Long Shot

by D. Jackson Leigh

  “Nice to meet you,” Bridgette said. She pulled Tory forward. “Do you know Tory?”

  “We’ve met,” Leah said curtly.

  Tory was sheepish. “Sorry I haven’t gotten back to you. I’ve been really busy.”

  Leah looked pointedly at Bridgette. “I can see that. No matter. I made my own appointment. I couldn’t wait any longer for you to call. My lawyer will be looking over the papers Monday for the sale of Gram’s farm.”

  Tory folded her arms over her chest to stop the sudden pain there. “You’re leaving that soon?” she said weakly.

  “As soon as I get Gram settled and tie up loose ends.”

  Tory was aware that Bridgette was watching them closely, but she didn’t care. “I’m sorry to hear that. When’s your appointment next week? I’ll arrange my schedule so I can go with you. I can probably help you place the horses in new homes, too, if you haven’t promised them already.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “I want to, damn it.”

  Jessica jumped in to stop the argument. “Speaking of horses, I haven’t had a chance to tell you guys that Long Shot has finally made a friend at the farm. We put Summer back in that pasture, and they immediately became best buddies.”

  Before Leah could answer, her cell phone rang. “What do you mean she’s gone? Damn it. I can’t believe she found those keys. I didn’t even know that old truck would still run. Which direction did she head? I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. Don’t worry. I’ll call the sheriff. Can you stay there just in case she comes back to the house? Thanks.” Leah closed her cell phone and looked up. “Gram found the keys to the old farm truck while Margaret was in the bathroom. She’s taken off to God knows where. I’ve got to find her before she hurts herself or somebody else.”

  Tory had seen the color drain from Leah’s face and the fear cloud her eyes. “I’ll go with you.” She turned to Jessica. “Can you get Bridgette home?”

  “You don’t have to help me,” Leah said weakly.

  “For once, don’t argue with me,” Tory said, pulling Leah toward the door. “You can call the cops while we head toward your place. We’ll take my truck because I’ve got a police scanner in it. We can turn it on and listen in case they find her before we do.”

  Jessica and Bridgette followed them outside, but Tory and Leah had leapt into the truck and were tearing off down the road before they could reach the curb.

  “Uh, Tory is such a do-gooder,” Jessica said in apology. “Let a crisis pop up, and she’s instantly in rescue mode.”

  “I’ve got a feeling there’s more than that going on here.” Bridgette looked at Jessica. “That was Leah whose grandmother who is suffering from dementia, isn’t it?”

  “What has Tory told you about her?”

  “More than she realizes. She told me about Leah’s grandmother shooting her in the butt. She also told me about them winning at the track, then using the money to save that mare from the pony-ride man. It wasn’t her words that gave her away, though. It was the way she lights up when she talks about Leah.”

  “Leah’s leaving town,” Jessica pointed out.

  “Maybe,” Bridgette replied.

  “I’m sorry,” Jessica said, wondering why Bridgette didn’t seem too upset about being left on the sidewalk.

  Bridgette shrugged. “Tory needs to make peace with herself before she can find her way to someone else. We’ll remain good friends, I hope.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  While Tory sped toward the Montgomery farm, Leah called Jimmy and told him that Gram was on the loose. Tory turned on the scanner and adjusted the frequency just as the call was going out to all law enforcement currently patrolling the county.

  When they arrived at the farm, Margaret was nervously rocking in one of the porch chairs. “I’m so sorry,” she said to Leah. “I was only in the bathroom a few minutes. I was looking for her in the house when I heard the truck, but by the time I got outside, she was headed down the driveway.”

  “It’s okay, Margaret,” Leah reassured her, despite her own worry. “God knows she’s slipped out on me a few times. We’ve called the sheriff and they’re looking out for the truck.”

  “Did she say anything about wanting to go somewhere?” Tory asked.

  “Well, we were in the beauty shop and Florence started talking about how she remembered the day Lorraine married Earl. That seemed to upset Lorraine. I thought maybe she still misses Earl, but I couldn’t get Florence to shut up. Then Lorraine jumped up and said we had to go. She said it was a mistake to marry Earl, and she had to go find Willie. I don’t remember anyone named Willie.”

  “Oh, no. She could be headed anywhere,” Leah moaned as she turned back to Tory’s truck.

  But Tory stopped her. “No, wait. Is there a pond somewhere on this farm?”

  Leah thought. “Yeah, it’s probably still there. But we could only get to it by foot when I was just a kid. I’m not sure there’s even a path to it anymore. Gram left in the truck. Come on.”

  Tory thought hard as she drove. Where else would Gram go to find Willie? She drove by the old place where MG had lived as a child. The house had burned down years ago. Nothing remained but a chimney and the rubble of a stone foundation. There was no sign of Gram anywhere near.

  They had been searching for over an hour when the scanner crackled to life and a state patrolman reported having seen the truck headed down old U.S. 33 about thirty minutes earlier. Tory knew where Gram was going.

  “Hold on,” she warned Leah as she did a U-turn in the middle of the road and gunned the engine.

  *

  The freshly painted sign on the weathered building still said Edwina’s Place, and Gram’s battered green farm truck was parked in front of the huge plate-glass window. Leah jumped from the truck, but Tory stopped her.

  “Hold on a minute,” she said when Leah tried to pull away and run inside.

  “I have to make sure she’s okay,” Leah insisted.

  “We’re going inside, but you need to calm down. Margaret said Gram was already worked up about finding Willie. We don’t want to upset her more.”

  Leah looked away, her eyes filling with tears. “You’re right. I was just so scared I’d lost her.”

  Tory hooked her fingers under Leah’s chin and turned her face up to brush at the tear trickling down her cheek. She waited until Leah’s eyes met hers. “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes,” Leah answered without hesitation.

  “Then let me handle this. Please.”

  Leah nodded, and Tory led her inside.

  The interior fortunately didn’t look as weathered as the outside. The small restaurant was laid out in an L shape. Directly in front of the door was a long lunch counter where patrons could sit on red vinyl bar stools. Off to the left was a second room lined with wooden booths that were thick with yearly layers of varnish. In one corner sat an ancient jukebox that still played old country tunes.

  They paused at the entrance to that room, spotting Gram huddled in a booth close to the jukebox.

  “Y’all come for Lori?”

  Tory and Leah turned to the woman wiping down the counter with a gray dishrag. She and an old man sitting at the end of the counter were the only other people there. Her gray hair was short, and her bulky figure was draped in men’s pants and a faded T-shirt.

  “You know her?” Leah asked.

  “Naw. She came in here a little while ago all worked up and looking for someone named Willie. So I said, ‘What’s your name, honey?’ She told me her name was Lori. I could tell she was confused, so I sat her in the back with a cup of coffee. If someone hadn’t come looking for her pretty soon, I was going to call Beatrice down at the sheriff’s department to see if anybody had reported her missing. I don’t suppose one of you is named Willie?”

  “No, but I do a pretty good imitation. Let’s see if it works now.”

  Gram was picking at some sugar packets, trying to tear them open although five empty packets
already lay next to her coffee cup. She didn’t look up when Tory and Leah approached, so Tory slid onto the bench opposite her. “Hi, Lori. Whatcha doing?”

  Gram looked up and smiled shyly. She didn’t seem to notice Leah standing a few feet away. “I knew you’d come, Willie.” She shoved a dime across the table toward Tory. “I’ve been saving this dime so we could dance. I never got to dance with you again except that one time we came here.”

  “Would you like to dance now?”

  Gram nodded, and Tory helped her stand. It had been a while since the price of a song was ten cents, so Tory dug some quarters out of her pocket and slid them into the machine. “How about if you punch up our song,” she prompted Gram.

  Gram made her selection and, after some whirring and thumping, Patsy Cline’s “Crazy” filled the room. Tory held out her arms.

  Lori moved into Willie’s gentle embrace and closed her eyes as they swayed slowly to the music. “My Willie. I could dance forever with your arms around me, Patsy singing, and your heart beating so strong against my cheek,” she murmured. “Remember when we were here before?”

  Tory kept her voice soft. “Tell me what you remember, Lori.”

  “We danced and danced. Everybody else was gone, so they finally told us we had to leave so they could close up. I didn’t want the night to end.”

  She opened her eyes and her steps faltered as she focused on Leah. Tory watched as Gram’s smile faded and her eyes filled with sadness.

  Gram looked up at her. “I think I need to sit down,” she said.

  Tory led her back to the booth and helped her sit. Then Leah knelt in front of her and looked into her grandmother’s eyes. “Are you okay, sugar?”

  Gram patted Leah’s shoulder and looked up at Tory. “So much like Willie, you confuse me sometimes.”

  Tory smiled. “I know where to find Willie, Mrs. Montgomery. She wants to see you.”

  Gram gasped, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. Leah looked up sharply at Tory.

  “Willie’s here?” Gram asked.

  “Not very far from here. Would you like to go there now?”

  “Yes, oh, yes,” Gram said.

  They started toward the door, but Leah grabbed Tory’s arm to hold her back. “This better be good, I don’t want her hurt.”

  “You have to trust me,” Tory said.

  *

  They climbed into Tory’s truck with Gram seated between them. As she pulled out onto the highway, Leah phoned Jimmy to call off the search while Tory dialed a different number on her cell phone.

  “We’re on our way,” she said. “We’ll be there in about twenty minutes.” She listened for a moment before speaking again. “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”

  Almost exactly twenty minutes later, they pulled up to a fancy wrought-iron gate. The smooth walls of a high stucco fence extended in either direction to surround the property.

  A uniformed man stepped out of the gatehouse and greeted them. “Young Dr. Greyson. I thought this was your busy season, but this is the second time you’ve been out here this month. Is your aunt doing okay?”

  “She’s fine, Ed. I’ve just brought some friends out to visit.”

  “Good. She’ll enjoy the company.” He stepped back into the gatehouse and pushed a button that opened the heavy gate and allowed them to drive on toward the huge, colonial-style building.

  “I feel like I’m in that old TV show Dallas and we just drove up to the family mansion. What did they call it? Southfork?”

  Tory chuckled. “That’s a good one. I’ll have to tell my aunt.”

  “This is the great-aunt you said owns this place?”

  “Yes. Dr. Millicent Greyson.”

  “Ah, that’s why they call you young Dr. Greyson. Is she a veterinarian, too?”

  “Nope. She’s a retired surgeon.”

  They parked and Tory led them inside, where the receptionist greeted them. “Dr. Greyson said to tell you she would be in the sunroom.”

  While they kept their pace slow for Gram, Leah took in the details of the facility. “This place is swanky,” she murmured.

  They turned left and stepped into the brightly lit sunroom. Its glass walls were alive with the colors of the flowers blooming just outside.

  “This is my aunt’s favorite room,” Tory said as they moved into its warmth.

  In the corner, a tall figure rose and turned to face them. Leah could swear she was looking at Tory forty years into the future. The green eyes, straight nose, and square jaw were the same.

  “May I present my great-aunt, the proprietor of this grand place, Dr. Millicent Greyson, better known to everyone as MG,” Tory said.

  Gram stared, transfixed.

  MG smiled. “It’s my favorite room because it reminds me of a long time ago when I used to pick flowers to give to a certain very pretty girl.”

  Gram’s breath hitched and her hands trembled at the sound of MG’s voice. “Willie, is it really you?”

  “Hi, Lori.” MG shifted nervously, sliding her hands into the pockets of her sweater. “I’m not exactly the nineteen-year-old you remember. But it’s really me.”

  Gram moved forward and held out her hand, but MG didn’t take it. “Are you still angry with me, Willie?”

  “I was hurt, Lori, but never angry.” She pulled her hand from her pocket and held it out. “I just didn’t think you’d want to hold this crippled old paw of mine.”

  Gram’s smile was tender as she folded MG’s large hand carefully in her smaller ones. “Will it hurt if I hold it gently?”

  “No. Your hands are warm. It feels good.” She looked up at Leah and Tory. “Perhaps Lori and I can visit here while you two take the grand tour.”

  Leah cleared the lump that had developed in her throat while witnessing their reunion. “I was told the administrator wouldn’t be available until next week. I have an appointment with him on Thursday.”

  MG cocked her head, her eyes twinkling. “If it’s convenient for you, I think you’ll find that he is available to show you around now and answer any questions you have.”

  Leah relaxed. “All righty, then. Gram, sugar, will you be okay here for a while?”

  “I’m fine, dear. You girls run along and leave us old women to visit,” she said, never taking her eyes off MG.

  *

  The tour and the discussion about the medical care her grandmother would receive took several hours. The facility had an excellent staff so that the patients were well cared for, and the high fence that surrounded it kept its residents safe without imprisoning them indoors.

  The interior was cheerfully decorated, and bulletin boards carried notices of manicure appointments, dance lessons, tai chi class, bridge club, and poker night.

  When they left the administrator and headed back to the sunroom, Leah was quiet.

  “So, what do you think?” Tory asked.

  “It’s great,” Leah answered. “I keep expecting to run into some old movie stars. I can’t imagine being able to afford something like this.”

  Earlier that morning, the offer on the farm seemed like a lot of money, but it was beginning to feel smaller and smaller. When she asked about the rates, the administrator demurred. “Dr. Greyson said you should discuss that with her.”

  “MG has never discussed the finances of this place, but I do know that an endowment keeps it running. If it did make any profit, MG would just add another staff person or give bonuses to the people who already work here.”

  “I know you said she was a doctor, but even doctors don’t make the kind of money that supports a place like this. What does she do? Sell drugs out the back door?”

  “Always the journalist looking for a story.” Tory chuckled. “I’ll start with the story MG told me and the rest of what I know of my aunt’s life. The day Gram got married, MG caught the bus to Richmond and joined the army. A woman couldn’t do much in the service back then. She had two choices, clerical or medical. MG chose medical. After her initial enlistm
ent as a medic, the army paid her way through medical school, then she did her internship and surgical residency in military hospitals. She was working in a MASH unit during the Vietnam War when she and an army buddy—another doctor—developed and patented a technique and a small device that prevented a lot of amputations. Trauma units still use it today.”

  “So why wouldn’t your aunt just take her money and fill her own house with servants? Why build this place?”

  “She said she just got used to living around a lot of people after spending most of her adult life in the military.”

  “This isn’t exactly a military barracks.”

  “No, it isn’t.” Tory laughed before she continued her story. “Rheumatoid arthritis ended MG’s surgical career while she was in her fifties. And her friend who shared the patent learned he was HIV positive. No, he wasn’t gay. He got it through a blood transfusion, but the army dropped him like a hot potato when he was diagnosed. His family pretty much deserted him, too. So MG brought him back here and they built this place together. It was mostly an AIDS hospice at first, but it later evolved to include patients with all kinds of ailments. When he died, he left all of his estate to the endowment.”

  Leah squinted in the bright light as they stepped into the sunroom again. “Where’d everybody go?”

  Tory looked around the empty room. “It must be lunchtime. Maybe they went to the dining room or the residence.”

  When they stepped into the hallway, Tory yanked Leah back out of the path of a speeding electric scooter.

  “There they are,” Gram sang out.

  The scooter slowed and made a U-turn in the hallway. MG was seated in the padded chair, driving with one hand while her other arm was wrapped securely around Gram’s tiny frame perched atop MG’s long legs.

  “MG, Della is going to hide your scooter again if you run over somebody,” Tory said.