'You really think my daughter's missing?'
'Yes.'
Lita shrugged. 'That would be too bad. Not that Marie and I get along so great. But she is my own flesh and blood. I'd feel bad if something happened to her.'
Marge didn't answer.
'What were we talking about? Where's my damn ice cream? What're they doing, growing the cherries?'
'How many times was Marie pregnant?'
'Oh, three or four that I know about. She aborted them
all.'
Marge kept her expression impassive. Marie had made quite a transformation. From radical politics and free sex to nursing and God. She said, 'Marie had three or four abortions?'
Lita smacked her lips. 'Yep. Cost me a pretty penny! Abortion was expensive in those days. But by that time my old man had kicked and left me some money. Guess he was feeling remorseful for never talking to me. So Pop made up by filling my pocketbook in his will. I was
spending an awful lot on myself. I really didn't mind spending a little on Marie.' 'Did Marie ever lose a baby?' 'Lose - like in a stillborn?' 'Or a late miscarriage.'
'Not that I know of. Far as I know, she never got that far in any of her pregnancies. She'd come to me and say, "Ma, I'm in trouble - again." I'd give her cash, and that's the last I'd hear about any of them.'
'She mentioned to a friend that she lost a baby when she was young. Maybe it was after Marie left the house. Around nineteen or twenty.'
'Around twenty...' Lita scrunched up her nose as she thought. Then she glared at the tabletop. 'This is just ridiculous. Where's my ice cream? What are they doing? Shelling the nuts?'
'Here comes Leek.'
'Well, it's about time!' Lita grabbed the bowl out of McKay's hands. 'Took you long enough.'
'Spumoni's a hot item, Lita.' The nurse set a bowl of ice cream in front of Marge. 'Here's your ice cream, Detective.'
'I changed my mind.' Marge pushed the bowl in front of Lita. 'Is it okay if I give it to her?'
McKay gave her an admonishing look. 'Boy, Lita, you really fooled me with that one.'
Again the old woman broke into howls of laughter.
'Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do.' McKay waved goodbye.
'Ain't he gorgeous?'
Marge smiled.
'He's going to take me to Hawaii.'
'Yes, you mentioned that Lita.'
'I'm supposed to give all my money to the home, you know.'
'I know.'
'No one knows about my secret money. Not even Marie.'
'I understand.'
'Hawaii was actually Leek's idea. He wants to settle there for a while. Just him and me. Like honeymooners.'
Marge waited a beat, then said, 'Lita, let's go on with Marie for just a moment more.'
'You're missing out on this ice cream.'
'Enjoy, Lita. So you don't know if Marie ever lost an infant when she was around twenty?'
'Nope. I never remember seeing Marie actually pregnant. She'd always scoop 'em out before she got big. Least that's what she claimed she did. Maybe she was just taking my money and having a good time. I wouldn't have been surprised. Hell, that's what I would've done.'
'Would it have been possible for Marie to have lost a baby and you not know about it?'
'Sure. By the time Marie was twenty, she was on her own, living up north following in the footsteps of all those crazy sixties hippies. Miss Flowerchild Hippy complete with tie-dye T-shirt and love beads, always living in one commune or another, fucking her brains out. Those were her words, not mine. She'd come home from Berkeley, I'd ask her what she'd learned. She told me she learned how to fuck her brains out. I told her she didn't need college to learn how to do that.' 'So she could have lost a baby and you wouldn't have
known.'
'Yep.' Lita licked her cream-soaked lips. 'I think she woulda told me about it though. She sure as hell told me about everything else - all the drugs, all the sex and the orgies. She screwed everyone and everything - alone, in groups, guys, girls, students, professors, anything that breathed. She went from one commune to another. And
when she couldn't find peace in sex, she went from one god to another. Then she found Jesus, left Berkeley and became a nurse.'
Lita stopped talking and appeared to be lost in thought.
'Wanna know the truth, Detective? Marie did better than I did. She's adding to this world; all I ever did was take, take, take. Not that it was my fault. Nobody ever gave me anything, so I just took it. Deep down in my heart, I'm really proud of my daughter. I tell her that, too. I tell her I was a shitty mother and that I'm proud she overcame my deficiencies to make something more of herself than just a libertine woman.'
'What did Marie say when you told her that?'
'Just smiled. She doesn't say too much. Too busy reading me the Bible. I don't mind. I can use all the help I can get.'
Marge was writing so fast her hand started to cramp. She took a deep breath and said, 'Did Marie seem preoccupied with children lately?'
Lita shook her head. 'Nope.'
'Did she mention anything about her past abortions by any chance. Any guilt, maybe?'
'Nope.'
'Do you recall if she had any guilt?'
'Girl never seemed guilty to me. But I'm not one to look for guilt. I never feel guilty about anything. Life's too short for guilt.'
Marge nodded, thinking how blatantly self-centered the old lady was. Conversation revolved around me, me, me. She probably was a shitty mother. No wonder Marie was reading a book about parent-child role reversals.
But what, if anything, did that have to do with Marie taking a baby? Perhaps Marie was capable of feeling loss and guilt. Perhaps she felt her abortions were past sins and even Jesus's forgiveness wasn't enough. Maybe she'd
decided to atone in a very harmful way. From what Lita had described, Marie had been self-destructive before. Why not now?
But why now? What had exploded this potential time-bomb?
'Do you know if Marie was seeing a gynecologist lately?'
'I wouldn't know.'
Marge asked, 'Had Marie been feeling well lately?'
Lita shrugged. 'She seemed fine to me.'
As if the old woman would notice. 'Do you know if she'd been seeing any doctors lately?'
'Nope.'
As long as they were on the subject of doctors, Marge had found herself a perfect opportunity to slip the question in. 'Do you know the name of Marie's dentist?'
'Her dentist? Why would I know Marie's dentist?'
'Maybe she took you to him.'
'I don't have any teeth.'
'For dentures.'
Lita furrowed her brow. 'She did take me to a dentist once. 'Bout five years ago.'
'Do you remember his name?'
'Nope. Just remember his breath smelling like coffee. I think he worked in Glendale.'
'You're sure?'
'Nope. Not sure of anything.'
'Lita, would you know any of Marie's friends?'
'Not a one.'
'She never mentioned any friends to you?'
'I said no.'
'How about Paula Delfern?'
'Never heard of the girl.'
'How about Sondra Roberts?'
'Sondra?'
Marge said, 'You know her?'
'She's a friend of Marie's?'
'I don't know, I'm asking you,' Marge said.
'Well, if she is, that's news to me.'
'How do you know Sondra?'
'She used to work here. I think she quit a while back. Some sort of problem about her license... that was the rumor.'
'What kind of problems?'
'I don't know. Then she quit and that was the end of her.'
Until now, Marge thought. She hoped the place saved old employment records. If the employee quit under clouded circumstances, the home would want to keep good records to protect themselves legally. Disgruntled employees are often suit-happy. The records would be old, but it would
be a start. Not that Marge would know exactly what to do with Sondra, even if she found her. There was no indication that she was relevant to this case.
'So you didn't know that Marie and Sondra were friends?'
'News to me. I know that girl had the hots for Leek.'
'She was Leek's girlfriend?'
'Unrequited love, Detective. Girl was nice enough, pretty face, too. But downright fat.'
Fat... Overeaters Anonymous. All made sense. Marge was hoping for that tiny off-chance that maybe Marie stashed the baby with a friend before she did her kamikaze over the cliff. "Marie was the one who actually took the baby.
'Well, Lita, you've been a big help.'
'I have?'
'Yeah, giving me your insight into your daughter.' Marge stood. 'Can I talk to you again if I need to?'
'Course.' Lita finished her ice cream off by scraping the
bowl with her spoon and started on Marge's bowl. 'You can come any time. Just bring some ice cream with you... or pudding. The four-packs. Get chocolate or butterscotch.' The old lady flashed a toothless grin. 'Or both.'
'You got it, Lita.'
Marge turned to walk away.
'Oh, Detective.'
'Yes?'
'One thing.'
'What?'
'About Sondra Roberts? That was her official name-tag name. Most of us here called her Tandy.'
Leek had gone on break by the time Marge completed the interview. In his place at the front desk was a middle-aged black woman in a white uniform. Her name was Sarah and she had worked at the home for four years.
'Sondra Roberts...'the woman said to herself. 'You mean Tandy don't you? Sure I remember Tandy. A nice girl, but kind of sad.' Sarah shook her head. 'She was very heavy and shy. She also had a terrible crush on Leek. Needless to say, the feelings weren't reciprocated.' 'That's what Lita Bellson told me.' 'Lita told you that?' Sarah laughed. 'Gracious, they are observant - see and hear it all.'
'I heard Tandy quit because of problems with her license.'
'Really?'
'You heard different?'
'I thought it was just cutbacks. They let go of a dozen people at once. Had us all a little worried. Excuse me.' Sarah picked up the phone. 'Golden Valley... yes, Mrs Louden, how are you.'
Marge waited until Sarah was done with the phone call, then said, 'I'd like to talk to someone in the personnel department. Can you ring anyone up for me?'
'Certainly.' Sarah punched in numbers on the intercom.
'Grace will come get you in a moment.'
'Thanks.'
'You're welcome, Detective.'
'Do you like working here, Sarah?'
'It's one of the best.'
'Seems like an up-beat place.'
'Compared to others, Detective, it's Disneyland.'
'Other nurses feel the same way?'
'I think so.'
'How about Leek?'
'He doesn't complain.'
'Lita told me he had independent wealth.'
Sarah let out a deep chuckle. 'Detective, if you had independent wealth, would you be working at a place like this... even if it was one of the best?'
Marge smiled. 'Wonder where Lita came up with that
one?'
'Lita's prone to fantasy, Detective. Not just Lita, most of them. And why not At their age, they don't like their lives, they just make up new ones. Like kids telling stories. Ah, here's Grace. Grace, Detective Dunn.'
Grace held out a tiny hand. Marge took it and observed that the tiny hand was attached to a tiny body - tiny in absolute terms, not just in relationship to Marge's five feet ten inches. The tiny woman spoke in a whisper.
'Pleased to meet you, Detective. How can I be of help?'
'I'd like to look at a file - a past employee.'
'Tandy Roberts,' Sarah said. 'You remember Tandy,
Grace?' 'Certainly I remember Tandy. She worked here for
about a year I believe.'
'Do you know why she quit?' Marge asked.
'I thought she was laid off,' Grace said. 'Budget cuts.'
'She didn't quit?'
'No, I do believe she was laid off.' Grace smiled at Marge. 'I'm sorry, Detective, but if you don't have the proper forms, I can't let you see the files without
permission from the higher-ups. Invasion of privacy, you see.'
'We're talking about a former employee.'
'Still, she's entitled—'
'The life of an infant may be hanging on this.'
The tiny woman's eyes widened. 'Well, I could call the administration office and see—'
'And how long will it take them to get back to you? Grace, we're looking for a helpless two-day-old infant.'
'What does Tandy have to do with the missing infant.'
'Maybe nothing. But we're exploring every possible avenue.'
'Detective, if you'd just let me make a call.'
Marge checked her watch. Four on the dot. Administration probably shut down at four-thirty, five. Unless Grace got through to the boss and was granted permission immediately, it was going to drag on for another day.
'Grace, how about if you go on a five-minute break and talk to Sarah while I wander around and get lost in the back offices.'
'Detective, this is highly irregular.'
'And so is a kidnapped infant. I was the one who had to interview the mother. Her first baby, Grace.'
The tiny woman said nothing. Marge could see her wrestling with her conscience. Finally, Grace's eyes traveled to the wall clock. 'I suppose I could use a cup of coffee. Five minutes. Files of former nurses are on the right side, tagged with a blue dot... for your information only.'
'Thank you.'
'Lord, I hope I'm doing the right thing.'
'Oh you are,' said Marge, giving her absolution.
Before the woman had a chance to protest, Marge was in the back offices. The door to the personnel office was
open and marked. A desk blocked the entry to the room which was lined with banks of files. Marge skipped around the desk and dug in. Grace's tip on the former nurses' files was an enormous time-saver because there was a slew of color-coding, the largest section belonging to the orange-dot category - the patients. Quickly, Marge started flipping through the R section of the blue files. There was only one Roberts, and the first name wasn't Sondra or Tandy.
Marge cursed and began again at the beginning of the R section, figuring the folder had been misfiled. After her third time through the Rs and finding nothing, Marge started on the other colors. It was a lost cause, something that couldn't be done in fifteen minutes, let alone five. A moment later, Grace walked through the doors.
'I'm sorry, Detective, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave.'
'Grace, I need your help.'
'Detective—'
'I couldn't find Sondra Roberts's file under the blue dots. Can you look elsewhere for me... just to let me know it's here.'
'Of course it's here.'
'Then find it for me. You do that, I'll play by your
rules.'
Grace sighed. 'Have a seat.'
'Thank you very much.' Marge sat down at the desk and watched the tiny woman tiptoe over to the blue-dot section. Marge had told her the file wasn't there but didn't feel insulted by the rechecking. Best thing to do was let Grace discover the absence with her own eyes. A minute later, the tiny woman quietly shut the file drawer, a disturbed expression on her face. She started in on a bank of red-dotted files.
'These are our current employees. Maybe someone
neglected to pull her file.' A sigh. 'That someone would be me, of course.'
'Mistakes happen.'
'I've worked here for fifteen years. I should know better.'
Marge didn't answer. A minute later, Grace closed the red-dotted drawers.
'It's not there, is it?' said Marge.
'I just don't understand. Maybe I filed it in the non-medical employees file.'
Faye Kellerman - Decker 06 - Grievous Sin Page 20
