Missing

by Adiva Geffen

  “Did you ask her what was going on?”

  “I asked her if everything was all right and she said yes, but her eyes… I don’t know, maybe I just imagined it.”

  I already knew he hadn’t. God bless truck drivers.

  14

  “Don’t you want to hear about our specials?” asked the waitress in Bob’s Steakhouse in Netanya. I imagine she’d been instructed to gently promote the day’s specials, and if that didn’t work, to shove them down the diners’ throats. I had no doubt the sea bass fillet swimming in chestnut sauce cost at least as much as a grand piano.

  “I already told you what I want, fillet mignon with potatoes.”

  “What would you like to drink?”

  “Tap water.” I took my revenge.

  She closed the pad she’d been holding with contempt.

  I decided I’d earned myself a decent meal. Both because I hadn’t eaten in two days and because the telephone call with Sarah had finally given me a real, solid, genuine lead. Good old sister Sarah had suggested Daria apply for a job at a nursing home in Ramat Gan, where she herself worked twice a week as a geriatric social worker. As far as I knew, Daria had been working there for a week. In a quick phone call to the nursing home I learned that Daria was scheduled to work the next day’s morning shift. The nurse who gave me the details wanted to know who I was, and I lied with ease and presented myself as her concerned sister again.

  When I finished the last bite of my juicy steak, I leaned back, lit a cigarette, and called Sammy to tell her about my glorious achievements.

  “Just like that?”

  “Just like that. We got her. So what do you have to say now?”

  “Sammy’s happy.”

  “So, can I make a suggestion?”

  “What?”

  “That you hold off on reporting this to Eve. Let me get to Daria and talk to her first.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. But Eve can hang on a few more hours. You can always wait a little for good news, right? Besides, I’m the one who found her, so let my razor-sharp instincts guide you for once.”

  “That just won’t fly, Shoshkowitz, she’s insane with worry. She at least deserves to know there’s a burning match at the end of the tunnel.”

  “But think for a minute, Sammy. What if it was all just one big misunderstanding and the truck driver was just rambling? What if Sarah was wrong and Daria doesn’t even work there? Suppose she doesn’t show up to work tomorrow morning? Your Evie would have a nervous breakdown. Why get her hopes up before we’re absolutely sure?”

  Sammy didn’t answer.

  “Sammy, you’re the one who taught me all this bullshit, all right?”

  “All right, but to prevent any slipups, I want you to go there now. Investigate the area before tomorrow’s visit.”

  “Are you kidding me? I’m beat!”

  “Shoshkowitz, did you forget I can see everything, even through the phone? Get that stupid cigarette out of your mouth and get a move on.”

  ◊◊◊

  All the lights were on in the nursing home windows. A few elderly men and women sat in the yard and stared vacantly. The skinniest woman I’d ever seen sat in a wheelchair and smoked. When she noticed I was staring, she gave me an angry look and I walked away.

  There was a twenty-four-hour grocery across the road from the nursing home. The illuminated sign over the door read Morris One-Stop Grocery Store. A neighborhood store is always a reliable source of information. I went in, and the shopkeeper eyed me curiously.

  A lady with an enormous rear end stood in line in front of me and a small, mustached man stood off to the side, scientifically comparing two types of yogurt without being able to pick one.

  “Go ahead, I’m still deciding,” said the yogurt man, and the woman moved forward and started to take toxic-looking soft drinks, snacks, and an assortment of other ass-nurturing foods out of her basket.

  “How’s your dad?” the grocer asked.

  “It’s complicated, Morris.” She shook her head sadly. “He hardly eats, hardly gets out of bed.”

  “God bless him. That’ll be seventy-three fifty,” he told her, glancing at the adding machine.

  “Expensive,” she protested.

  “Same as yesterday,” answered Morris calmly. “Tell your dad I said hi.”

  The tiny mustached man was still considering his yogurt options, so I took the opportunity to step up to the cash register. “Just a question,” I said, and to make sure he wouldn’t turn impatient, added my loveliest smile. “It’s about my dad. We’re checking around. How’s the nursing home across the road?”

  “The best, guaranteed,” Morris ruled.

  “Really?”

  “Take Morris’ word for it. People come here and tell me horror stories from other nursing homes — nurses beating patients, foreign workers stealing their food — this place is heaven on earth compared to the rest of them. Your dad is going to the G-spot?”

  “The what?”

  “The geriatric ward.” I heard laughter behind me. I turned my head and saw two women who looked remarkably alike, both short and with red hair. They came to the counter together and piled their groceries on it.

  “You two look like you know a thing or two. What’s your connection to the nursing home?”

  “Our mom’s in the open ward. Tell me, your dad, how old is he?” A spark of hope ignited in their eyes.

  “Eighty-six, but he’s absolutely not G-spot material, he’s very active, full of life, plays cards.”

  “He’ll get snatched up over there; there aren’t many men. They’ll find him a match right away. Better start saving for the wedding,” Morris said and winked at the two sisters. “Wait a minute.” I hurried to protect my imaginary dad from the army of horny nursing home biddies. “I’m just checking into it for now. How’s the treatment, the food? Do they have field trips? Classes?”

  “It truly is an excellent place,” said the older of the two sisters. “You can rest easy. If you’re looking for a good place for your dad, you’ve found it. How old did you say he is?”

  “Eighty-nine.” I tried to lower their expectations.

  The sisters packed their groceries and left, and I quickly thanked Morris and hurried after them.

  “Go ahead, ask all the questions you want. It’s important to know everything in advance,” said the other sister, as if she’d read my mind.

  “How’s the building?”

  “Why, are you buying it?” The older one laughed.

  “No. It’s just that my old man has a thing about fires. He’s terrified. Are there any emergency exists? I have to check it out, otherwise he’d drive me crazy. That’s all he cares about.”

  “Of course they’ve got emergency exits. And you know how many nurses they have there? Half a nurse per resident, not to mention doctors and instructors.”

  ◊◊◊

  An hour later, and with enough knowledge to write a multivolume encyclopedia about the nursing home, I stopped at my favorite bar, fueled my system with two glasses of whiskey and went back home. I spat out the knowledge I’d acquired to Sammy and dropped on the bed. I heard the phone ringing again and again, hoping it was who I thought it was, and barely managed to stop myself from answering. I have my self-respect.

  I told myself that since Operation Daria was about to end the next day, I should spend the night sleeping. Little did I know that the storm clouds of trouble were only beginning to gather.

  15

  Sammy waited for me across from the nursing home, sitting on one of the white plastic chairs in front of Morris’ All-Inclusive Grocery Store. She had a rosy look on her face, full of excitement and hope, but she also looked a bit shrunken. Maybe it was the strict diet she’d forced on herself, convinced that shedding a whole twenty pounds would solve her meniscus
problem and keep her off the operating table.

  As expected, Morris had fallen madly in love with her and had abandoned his customers to sit next to her and listen to her stories.

  When she saw me getting closer to the nursing home, she allowed Morris to help her up, looked at her cell phone, made sure the walkie-talkie app was turned on, then walked to the main entrance and went inside. Just like we’d planned.

  Following Morris’ detailed description, I snuck my way around to the back of the building. The smoking skeleton woman sat there, the same scolding expression on her face.

  “Dikla, come in,” Sammy’s voice emerged from the phone.

  “What’s with the radio lingo?”

  “Just making sure you can hear me.”

  “Roger that, Supreme Leader. Just don’t get overexcited and press the red button that disconnects our phones.”

  I moved down the building wall all the way to the back entrance and waited in the yard by the service elevator. Should Daria try to escape from Sammy, I’d be able to catch her there. According to Morris, there wasn’t another exit.

  Now all I had to do was wait.

  Through the phone, I heard Sammy speaking to a man with a foreign accent who directed her to the head nurse, then a noise like a drilling rig looking for oil inside my head, then receding voices. A door slammed shut. Another door squeaked open. Then I heard Sammy again. She sounded like she was speaking from the bottom of a fish tank. “Excuse me, are you Rutha?” Ah. Sammy was pulling her nice-fat-lady routine. A woman’s voice answered her.

  “They said you could tell me which ward Daria works in. She’s new here.”

  I couldn’t hear Rutha’s voice, just a light humming, but Sammy came through loud and clear. “Ward D?” she roared so I wouldn’t miss that important bit of information. “How do I get there? Third floor. Thank you.” I heard rattling sounds; Sammy must have bumped into something. “No need, thank you, I’ll find her by myself. No…no… This will only take a moment… I don’t want to bother you… All right… I understand.”

  Another hum. Rutha was saying something.

  “Me? I’m her aunt.”

  More humming.

  “Do me a favor. Tell her that her mother just wants to know she’s all right. And I only want to talk to her, please.”

  Silence.

  “Sammy?” I whispered.

  “The bitch didn’t let me in. I hope you’re in position.”

  Five minutes that felt like an eternity ticked slowly by.

  I kept my eyes on the elevator floor indicator, ready for any development. Then I saw it blinking. It was coming down. Good. Just like we’d thought, Daria was headed my way. On the run again.

  The elevator door would open any second. I stood two feet away, ready to pounce. I watched the light over the door. I heard the chime when it reached the ground floor. The door opened and there was no Daria. Damn!

  A man in a plaid hat pushed a wheelchair carrying someone who might once have been a high-level executive, but who now looked like a dried-up prune. They were followed by a slender woman wearing a put-upon expression. I smiled and let them pass. Where was Daria?

  I looked around the backyard again, and I found her. I saw her eyes, twinkling in the darkness of a half-open maintenance closet.

  “Daria?” I whispered. “I know you’re in there. Come out. I just want to talk to you.”

  Only the sound of heavy breathing answered me.

  “Daria, my name’s Dikla, I’m here to help. Your mom’s worried.”

  “Are you here to take me back?”

  “Just come out here and we’ll talk.”

  “I can’t go back there,” she whispered. “Please.”

  “Listen, I don’t care what happened there and why you ran away. They just want to know you’re all right.”

  “Please, don’t take me there. Don’t take me to the blue room. I can’t go through that again.”

  “Give me your hand, Daria.” I extended my hand, fumbling in the dark. Then she did exactly what I expected her to do. All at once, she flew out of the closet, smashing into me and trying to escape. I stopped her by wrapping my arms around her, hugging her close as if she were my long-lost sister.

  “Let me go,” she whined and tried to free herself.

  “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  “Not back there, please.”

  “Settle down. Your parents just want to know you’re all right,” I said, still holding her. “No blue room, I promise. Come on, let’s get out of here and find ourselves a nice bench to sit on and talk.”

  “Please, let me go. You don’t understand.” She sounded desperate. I felt her muscles relaxing as she collapsed against me, too emotionally drained to resist.

  “You understand that your parents are concerned?”

  “I’m doomed,” she said. “They’ll never… I betrayed them… There’s no turning back.”

  We faced each other, huntress and prey. Up close, she looked even younger than she had in the photos…tinier.

  “Please,” she begged. “She…they… It’s not what you think. Please help me.”

  I had never seen such joyless eyes. My success suddenly felt bitter. Fuck it, I thought. Let her run, disappear, go to the other end of the world, to a place where Evie would never be able to lay hands on her. But I was a detective on a mission, and I just couldn’t do it. This was none of my business, I reminded myself. I’m just the junior partner in a penniless detective agency. A job’s a job.

  At the time, I thought I was acting with remarkable professionalism. Later on, after they found her lying on the sidewalk, I thought this could have been our shared moment of salvation, and I had missed it.

  I saw Sammy wobbling toward us with a determined look on her face. I motioned for her to settle down, hinting that the girl was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

  “Hello, Daria,” Sammy said in her best Florence Nightingale voice. “I’m Sammy, pleased to meet you.”

  Daria suddenly looked hopeful, as if she’d just found her savior. “Help me,” Daria whispered, hoping Sammy, with her wide, generous smile, might understand her.

  “Of course. That’s what I’m here for, to help you.”

  “Don’t tell anyone that you’ve found me.”

  “Sure, but first you need to talk to your parents.” Sammy’s voice suddenly became as hard as steel. She was trying to protect herself from falling into the pity trap.

  “Don’t let them take me there.”

  “Listen, sweetie, I don’t care what made you decide to settle in here and wipe corpse asses instead of knitting in your royal palace. Right now, we’re going to leave this yard quietly, and you are going to behave yourself and smile. You’re not going to alert any of the nurses, and you will walk with us straight to the car.”

  Daria didn’t answer. She gradually turned inward.

  “Your mother is very worried.” Sammy continued to chatter while holding Daria in a tight, unambiguous embrace. “She misses her daughter. You can understand that, can’t you? I suggest that you don’t get smart with me. Maybe Shoshkowitz didn’t tell you how crazy I get when someone doesn’t let me finish the job.” Sammy pushed an elbow deep into her ribs, and Daria grimaced and shook her head.

  We started to walk. She marched between us, our hands clasped, with Sammy dragging her aching leg. Daria’s head was up, her back stiff, as if we were taking her to the gallows and she’d decided to show the hangman she wasn’t afraid of him.

  “Daria, where are you going?” a nurse called from the second-floor window.

  “That’s Rutha,” said Sammy. “We need to hurry up before she realizes what’s going on here.”

  “Daria, your shift isn’t over yet,” shouted Rutha. We kept walking. “Where are you going?”

  “Answer her,”
said Sammy. “And remember what I told you.”

  Daria turned around, looked at Rutha, and said nothing.

  “Daria, answer me. What is going on?”

  “I…I have to leave early today. They came to pick me up.”

  “Is everything all right?” Rutha insisted. “Are you sure everything is all right? Would you like me to come down?”

  “Thank you.” Daria flashed her a smile more like a grimace. “There’s no need. These are my friends… Great Mother has sent them.” She stopped for a moment. “I’m sorry for leaving like this, without… Please, Rutha, tell them on the ward that tomorrow, perhaps in a few days…after fixing the mess I’ve caused, I’ll come back.”

  “Daria, wait, do you want me to call security?”

  “No need. Tell Jonah from my ward to eat properly… He’s so lonely. Tell him not to forget me, to take care of himself,” she said and turned to leave, accepting that there was nowhere left to run.

  “I’ll tell him. Come back whenever you want,” we heard Rutha say. “You did a great job. Everyone here loves you. Come back to us when you can, do you hear me? Whenever you want to.”

  I heard Daria muttering something, almost like a prayer. As we left the yard, she collapsed, and we had to tighten our grip on her. A quiet sob escaped her lips, and I felt a cloud of despair engulfing her.

  Sammy rolled her eyes when she saw my tiny Kia but said nothing.

  She left Daria in my hands and squeezed into the backseat, grunting in misery. I tightened my hold on Daria’s arm, careful not to let her slip. As soon as Sammy settled in, I helped Daria in beside her.

  “Are you all right?” I asked Daria and brushed my hand across her cheek. It was ice-cold.

  Daria didn’t answer, as if she’d given up and surrendered herself to us.

  “Everything will be all right, you’ll see. They’re waiting for you.” I tried to be nice to her.

  “They’ll punish me. I know they will.”

  “You should have thought of that when you stupidly decided to vanish into thin air.” Once again, I’d lost patience with her.