“Tabby is the kind of character Arthur would like.”
“Tell me where she took you last night.”
“First we went to a Welsh restaurant called a ‘public house,’ where we ate and drank at a communal table.”
“Wow, how’d that go for you?”
“It was fun, believe it or not. We met two really nice guys—and that was how we ended up at the gay bar.”
“That is so Tabby!”
“What is so Tabby?” Tabby said, sticking her head in the door. She came in, still wearing the blue maid’s shirt.
“Did you see Ursa?” Gabe asked.
She sat on the bed. “I almost did.”
“You got past the ICU doors?” Jo asked.
She nodded. “I bought a balloon and stuffed animal and wrote a note that said Ursa, We love you! Get better fast! I signed it Hugs and kisses, Jo, Gabe, and Tabby . The stuffed animal was a tabby cat, by the way—isn’t that awesome?”
“Tell the story!” Jo said.
“I went to the hospital directory lady, but she didn’t have Ursa listed. She looked at my toy and asked if the patient was a child. When I said she was, the lady said Ursa was probably at their children’s hospital a few blocks away. She checked for me, but they didn’t have her listed either.”
“That’s weird.”
“That’s what I thought. I went to the ICU in this hospital to look around, but the doors were locked. I waited until a nurse came out with a guy in a wheelchair—”
“You didn’t.”
“I did. I ran in. Before anyone realized I wasn’t supposed to be in there, I went looking for Ursa. That was when I saw her room.”
“How do you know?” Gabe said.
“There was a cop guarding her door.”
“A cop!” Jo said.
“Are you sure it was her room?” Gabe said.
“Before I got to the door, a nurse stopped me and asked who I was. I said I had a gift for Ursa Dupree. I told her I was supposed to deliver the toy and balloon and sing her a song. I assumed the cop was guarding Ursa, so I started walking fast toward him. The nurse yelled Stop her! and guess what happened?”
“Oh my god,” Jo said.
“Yeah, the cop drew his gun on me. I got hauled to some security office, and they asked me a bunch of questions about how I knew what room to go to—which means that really is Ursa’s room. She’s probably not in the children’s hospital because the police know that’s too obvious.”
“How did you lie your way out of security?” Jo asked.
“I didn’t. Lying was too dangerous. I told them I knew Ursa through you, and I was upset because the hospital wouldn’t let me see her. I admitted I hatched the plan to sneak in.”
“What did they do?”
“They took my name and address, but they were only trying to scare me. And they said I’d be arrested if I tried it again.”
“I can’t believe this,” Jo said. “Ursa is under police guard.”
“I believe it,” Gabe said.
“So do I,” Tabby said. She lowered her voice and leaned forward. “I bet the government knows she’s an alien in Ursa Dupree’s body!”
32
Jo had looked through every magazine in the ICU waiting room, even Guns and Gardens , which would have amused her pacifist-gardener mother. Her favorite seat was the one next to an adjacent table on which she could support her bandaged leg. She exercised every hour, walking in circles on her crutches around the room. She used the handicapped stall in the waiting-room bathroom to bathe and brush her teeth, and she slept on the couch. She ate when Gabe brought her food. He was still at the nearby hotel, and he washed and dried her clothing in his room every night.
Tabby had wanted to join Jo in her sit-in, but she couldn’t be away from her job any longer. Gabe wanted Jo to leave. He said the police would never let her see Ursa, but Jo couldn’t accept that. She needed to see Ursa again. She knew without the slightest doubt that Ursa wanted to see her, too.
Word of her sit-in had spread through the hospital. Jo’s surgeon came to talk to her on the third day. He said she was risking infection from stress and maybe a blood clot from sitting too much. Hospital security also came the third day. They told her to leave, but Jo said she wouldn’t until she saw Ursa. They said they’d have the police physically remove her, but that hadn’t happened yet.
Jo watched everyone who went down Ursa’s ICU corridor. She took note of police and official-looking people who went through the doors. A woman with a white-streaked Afro visited frequently, and Jo began to suspect she was Ursa’s court-designated counselor. The woman often looked at Jo while she waited for the ICU doors to open. At first she assessed Jo with apparent coldness. But by the third day, there seemed to be some grudging admiration in her stare.
Gabe came in with lunch on the fourth day of her sit-in. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his cheekbones seemed more prominent. He was in contact with Lacey and his mother, but he didn’t tell them the truth, that Jo had been discharged from the hospital after three days.
Gabe took off his backpack and sat next to her. “Turkey, provolone, avocado, and lettuce on wheat,” he said, handing her a white paper bag.
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I wish you’d go home.”
“I wish you would stop this insanity,” he said.
“I can’t.”
“She’s probably not here anymore. I’m sure they’ve moved her.”
“She must still be in there. That woman with the Afro went in about an hour ago.”
“You don’t even know if that woman is connected to Ursa!”
“I think she is. She always stares at me.”
“Everyone does—because what you’re doing is crazy. You need to get out of here and find a lawyer.”
“I don’t need a lawyer.”
Rather than argue about that again, he shook his head and looked away.
“Did you bring me clean clothes?”
“Yes, but they’re still damp.”
As she finished the sandwich, he closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. Jo kissed his cheek. “Don’t you want to get back to your birds?” he said, eyes still closed.
“I can’t on crutches, and Tanner and Carly are finishing my work.”
He opened his eyes and looked at her. “I’d think you want to make sure they’re doing everything right.”
“Tanner has to get it right.”
“Why?”
“He’s using my nests to get back in Shaw’s good graces. Shaw was pissed when he dropped me like I was Typhoid Mary after my diagnosis.”
“I still can’t believe he did that.”
“I can. Tanner is—”
The ICU doors opened. Jo looked into the sharp eyes of the woman with the Afro. She was wearing a light-gray skirt with a peach shirt that nicely complemented her brown skin. Her shape was like Lacey’s, full-bodied and strong, but not quite as tall.
She walked straight toward Jo and Gabe. “Joanna Teale, right?” she said.
“Yes,” Jo said.
“And you must be Gabriel Nash,” the woman said, stopping in front of them.
“Yes,” he said with tense vocal cords.
She crossed her arms and looked down at Jo. “So . . . how long have you been out here?”
“This is the fourth day,” Jo said.
“After surgery, no less. You’re as stubborn as her.”
“Ursa?” Jo said.
“Who else? I never met a more stubborn child in all my days.”
“I know how you feel,” Jo said. “She mule-kicked me for a long time before I decided to back off.”
“You know, when I first heard this story, I couldn’t imagine why you did what you did. How could you not bring her to the police for a whole month? How could you not know that was wrong?”
“I knew it was wrong.”
“But the alien got in your head—with her pow
ers—right?”
“She still says she’s an alien?”
“Oh yeah, I know all about her planet. Hetrayeh is its name, and her people’s skin looks like starlight.”
“Did she tell you about the five miracles?”
“She sure did. You know why she didn’t go back to her planet after the fifth miracle?”
“How did she explain it?”
“She said she decided to stay when she found out you loved her. The fifth miracle made her stay instead of go.”
Jo had to look away.
The woman waited for her to recover. “Want to know a little secret? Say Hetrayeh backwards.”
Jo and Gabe looked at each other, trying to work it out.
“It’s not easy, right?” the woman said. “People with regular brains do it slow.”
“Eyarteh?” Gabe said.
“A th sound can’t be reversed unless you put a vowel in. Try that at the end.”
“Earth!” Jo said.
The woman nodded.
Jo tried reversing Ursa’s name. “Ursa Ann Dupree is Earpood Na Asru. She said that was her alien name.”
“You got it,” the woman said. “But she does it fast. Give her a book and she can read the words backward as fast as she can read them forward.” The woman smiled at Jo and Gabe’s confusion. “No, she’s not an alien. But in a way she is—at least to the rest of us. She’s a genius. In first grade, her IQ measured over 160.”
“This explains so much!” Jo said.
“Doesn’t it, though?” She extended her hand toward Jo. “I’m Lenora Rhodes from Children and Family Services.” Jo and Gabe shook her hand. “I’ve been assigned the impossible task of getting Ursa to tell me what happened the night she ran away.”
“She won’t tell you anything?” Jo asked.
Lenora pulled a chair out and set it in front of them. “She says she’ll only tell you, Jo. For five days we’ve tried, and she says it has to be you.”
“Smart,” Gabe said.
“I’m about to tear my hair out, she’s so smart,” Lenora said. “I’m going to tell you what I know in exchange for your help.”
“Does she have family?” Jo asked.
“Her only known living relatives are a drug-addicted grandmother who lives in a trailer and a grandfather with Alzheimer’s who’s living in a senior home. She also has an uncle whose whereabouts are unknown because he’s wanted by the police.”
“If she has nowhere to go, I’d like to apply to be her foster parent.”
“Slow down. Let’s take it a step at a time. Will you agree to talk to her?”
“Of course. Do you know what happened to her parents?”
Lenora looked around to make sure no one was listening. She leaned forward in her chair. “We know all about her parents. They both grew up in Paducah, Kentucky. Ursa probably got her smarts from her father, Dylan Dupree. He was on a great trajectory, one of those kids who succeeds at everything—until he fell for Portia Wilkins his sophomore year. Somehow, one of the smartest students at that high school got involved with one of the most troubled. Portia was a real looker—maybe that’s how it happened.”
“Or she was as smart as he was, and that attracted him,” Jo said. “Lots of smart kids get into trouble.”
“True,” Lenora said. “Whatever the reason, everything went downhill for Dylan when he started seeing Portia. He got into drugs and alcohol, his grades dropped, and he was often in trouble. The summer between junior and senior year, Portia got pregnant. When both families refused to support their decision to keep the baby, Dylan and Portia ran away. They hitchhiked their way out of Kentucky and ended up in Effingham, Illinois.”
“Did they get married?” Jo asked.
“They did, but not until after Ursa was born. Portia was waitressing, and Dylan worked with a contractor. By the time Ursa was two, their combined income was high enough to move into a decent apartment. There are no arrest records during that time, but we believe Dylan and Portia were using drugs and alcohol regularly.”
“Why do you think that?” Jo asked.
“Because Dylan drowned, and they found heavy drugs in his system. That was when Ursa was five.”
“Poor Ursa,” Gabe said.
“Friends who were at the lake verified he was high when he went in to swim. Ursa was on shore with her mother, who also was intoxicated.”
Lenora stopped talking when a couple stepped out of the elevator. She waited until they went through the ICU doors before continuing. “Dylan was the glue in the family, and when he died, everything came unstuck. During the next three years, Portia was constantly in trouble. She was fired from several waitressing jobs, arrested on a drug misdemeanor, and investigated for writing bad checks. She also lost her driver’s license after getting a DUI. When Ursa was in second grade, her school had Portia investigated for child neglect. Ursa was showing up to school in dirty clothing, and more than once she was found wandering the grounds long after school was over. Her behavior became increasingly odd—”
“Smart kids are often considered odd,” Jo said.
“They took that into account. But she disrupted class often. She would read things backward obsessively and raise her hand to tell wild stories to the teacher.”
“She was bored,” Gabe said. “Can you imagine what a second-grade curriculum would be like for a person with an IQ like that?”
Lenora smiled. “I love how you two defend her. But when a child is acting out like that, it’s usually a sign of a stressful home situation. During the home investigation, the social workers got the impression that Ursa basically took care of herself. She knew how to cook easy things like macaroni and cheese, and she did her homework, got ready for school, and went to the bus stop without any help. Her clothes were dirty because she couldn’t get to the Laundromat by herself. After Dylan died, Portia had to move to a dirt-cheap apartment that had no washer or dryer.”
“Did the social workers consider taking her away from her mother?” Jo asked.
“It has to be really bad for that to happen. They decided what was going on wasn’t that atypical for a child with a single mother. What they didn’t know was that Ursa lied when they asked if her mother used drugs and alcohol. Portia’s drug habit had gotten so bad that she was prostituting herself to get money to pay for it. She was a waitress at a bar-restaurant—”
“What was it called—the restaurant?” Jo asked.
“It’s not the place you stopped the night of the shooting.”
“You know about that?”
“I know about everything,” Lenora said. “We think Ursa had been to that restaurant before, but not because her mother had worked there. The last place Portia worked was a rough spot where she found men who would help her support her drug habit. Because she didn’t have a driver’s license, a friend who waitressed with her often drove her to and from work. One day in June, she went to pick up Portia at her apartment and got no answer. When Portia didn’t show up to work for two days, the friend convinced Portia’s landlord to let her look in the apartment. Inside they found a note on the refrigerator that said she and a friend had taken Ursa to Wisconsin for a vacation.”
“That was after school had ended?” Jo asked.
“Yes, Ursa was out of school. But Portia’s friend knew of no friend who would drive them to Wisconsin. She also knew Portia and Ursa wouldn’t leave behind their clothing. For a week she pestered the police, but when they finally started asking her questions, she suddenly backed off. She got scared because she also was a drug user and prostitute. The police pretty much dropped it after that.”
“When a little girl’s life was at stake?” Jo said.
“They had no leads, and the mother left a note. And by the second week, they had no evidence to search because Portia’s landlord dumped all her belongings and cleaned the apartment for new renters. Portia hadn’t paid rent for two months.”
“The police shouldn’t have let the landlord do that,” Jo said.
<
br /> “They realized that two weeks ago when Portia’s body was found in a borrow pit.”
“Jesus,” Gabe said.
“Do they know how she died?” Jo said.
“The body was decomposed, but there’s evidence of trauma on the right side of the skull. Decomposition matched the date she went missing. She probably died the night of June sixth.”
“And Ursa showed up in my front yard on June seventh,” Jo said.
Lenora nodded. “And a week ago you stopped in Effingham for dinner and noticed Ursa seemed afraid of a man. Possibly that man called two men who followed you home. You told the police Ursa said They’ll kill you, too just before the men started shooting.”
“Those men murdered Portia,” Gabe said.
“Probably,” Lenora said, “and we think Ursa saw it happen.”
“Why is Ursa being guarded if the presumed murderers are dead?” Jo asked.
“Who knows if only those two were involved? Maybe the man on the phone at the restaurant took part in the murder. We think Ursa knows who that man is and what happened the night her mother died.” Lenora leaned toward Jo. “To get that story, we need your help.”
“When?”
“Today. Her safety is up to you, Joanna. You have to make her talk.”
33
The ICU gatekeepers opened their doors to the two rogues in their waiting room. But there were rules. They couldn’t discuss what happened the night Ursa’s mother died until Detective Kellen and Deputy McNabb arrived. Ursa’s statement had to be witnessed by law enforcement to make sure she wasn’t coerced. And Jo and Gabe couldn’t tell Ursa they knew anything about her background. Most importantly, they couldn’t reveal that her mother’s body had been found. Lenora said knowing that might alter how Ursa told her story.
As Jo approached the ICU central desk on her crutches, a silvery balloon caught her eye. It was tied to a stuffed tabby kitten. Jo veered away from Lenora Rhodes and Gabe.
“Jo, what are you doing?” Gabe said.
She had to go behind the desk to reach the gifts.
“You aren’t allowed back here,” a man said. “Ma’am . . .”
Jo rested one crutch on her body, grabbed the tabby kitten, and faced the indignant staff. “Why wasn’t this given to Ursa?”
Where the Forest Meets the Stars Page 24
