“Meet my friend? Who do you mean?”
She put her hand over her mouth, like she wished she hadn’t let something slip out.
“I wasn’t supposed to tell.”
“Tell what?” I asked.
“I dropped off a plate of Snickerdoodles, at the back door here, that’s when I last saw Anna.”
“What else, Millie? What aren’t you telling me?”
“Well,” she said, trying to find words to say something. “I…I know about your problem. Anna mentioned it to me.” She patted me on the arm like she understood all about me.
“What problem? What do you mean?”
“You don’t need to hide it from me. I understand. Things are hard.”
“Millie, would you be clear, please. I’m not following you.”
Her weathered old skin blushed into a pale shade of rose. “Anna had a phone call from a friend of yours. Someone from the hospital who knows about your problem. She was expecting them over any minute to come talk to her about you, to find a way to help.”
“I still don’t know what you’re talking about. What problem?”
She covered her mouth and barely let it out, as if by whispering, it’d be all right to say it. “Your drug problem.”
My answer wasn’t in a whisper though. “My drug problem? I don’t have a drug problem.”
“The first step to getting help, Kathleen, is admitting you have a problem.” She patted my arm some more.
I rolled my eyes. “But I don’t. I barely drink wine. My worst addiction is chocolate, but surely nobody cares about that.”
“Oh, dear. Maybe I misunderstood her.”
I didn’t think she’d misunderstood Anna. Someone was filling Anna’s head with hooey. Someone was trying to make trouble for me. Or get inside to see Anna. And take her baby.
“Don’t worry about it. That’s not what matters right now. Was this friend a man or woman? Did she say?”
“I don’t remember that she did.”
“And you didn’t see anyone? Did the police already ask you? Did you tell them what you’ve told me?”
“Of course not. If you’re misusing drugs, I’m not going to be the one to turn you in. There are treatments available, you know.”
“How long after you saw her was she shot? Do you think there was time for her visitor to come?”
“You don’t think your friend did this, do you?”
“No, Millie. Not my friend. You probably better tell the police what you know. It might help them figure out what happened.”
Her pinched face looked like she might cry.
“Don’t worry. They won’t arrest me for chocolate.”
I needed to get out of there and think. There seemed to be something to what she said, something somewhere in my mind that I couldn’t put my finger on.
“I need to go, Millie. Thanks for taking care of this. If you think of anything else, let me know.”
Poor Millie. “Bye, dear,” she said, clearly emotional.
All the way home, my mind kept turning over. Whatever was in there, it kept slipping away. Just as I thought I was about to grab hold of the idea, it slid deeper under the surface. A detail, some secret. Something I’d heard or seen had meaning.
I called Mack when I got home. He was still home, planning to go into the lab late. The night before, when I’d called him from the OR waiting room, he’d told me he promised Jackie he’d take care of the baby while she was out for the morning and he’d be late to work.
After telling him I’d gone over to Joe’s parents’ condo and everything Millie had said, I told him there was something else. I’d seen or heard something but wasn’t sure what it was, but maybe it was a clue about the crime. When we hung up, I lay on the couch, trying to get a hold of that elusive impression. While I scratched Ollie behind the ears, and he warmed my stomach, my mind kept returning to the condo. I tried to let it wander, and to pick up clues along the way of what it was trying to show me.
I tried not to think too hard so I wouldn’t scare the idea too deeply into hiding. I had to let it rest and come out on its own when it was good and ready.
I did such a good job of leaving it alone, I started to slip into a nap. It was just then that it became so clear, I wondered how I’d managed to miss it before.
Next to the picture of Joe and Anna, on the end table, sitting on the coaster was the clue. A mug of coffee.
If Anna had still been fine when her visitor left, that mug of coffee wouldn’t have had a chance in hell of being left out on the table. That coaster would have been scooped up, wiped off, put back, and the coffee mug bustled into the kitchen and popped into the dishwasher, if not washed by hand and put in the cupboard.
The cup of joe certainly wasn’t a cup of Joe’s. He didn’t drink coffee. And I was certain the coffee hadn’t been Anna’s. She wouldn’t have been sitting there sipping that cup when someone came in and shot her. She was lactose intolerant and only took raw sugar in her coffee. The brew I’d seen in that cup had some cream in it. The person posing as my friend, that’s who was the owner of the mysterious java.
Fosdick needed to know this. His forensic guy had missed it. If the scary, hairy guy’s fingerprints were on the cup, or maybe even Carl’s, it would be all Fosdick needed to find the shooter, and maybe even Charlotte.
I pushed Ollie off my stomach and grabbed the phone. Fosdick’s number was in my speed dial now. It rang five times and a recorded woman came on saying “your party—‘Lieutenant Fosdick’ (his voice)—is not available.” Then I tried to get Millie. If she saw that stray cup, she’d swipe it up, wash it, and polish it into a mirror. That’d be the end of my lead.
But she didn’t answer. I tried her own phone, just in case she’d gone home and hadn’t started yet. Maybe she was waiting for Burt to come help. It went to voicemail.
There was no time for this. I needed to go protect the evidence. So with my emergency RedBox Visa, out the door I headed, hailing a cab to make a beeline back to the condo.
Millie was in the kitchen finishing up the floor with a mop when I walked in.
“My, what are you doing here?” She straightened up with her hand on her lower back.
“Forgot something.” I dashed over to the end table. The sandstone coaster was empty.
“Millie,” I said. “Where’s the cup of coffee that was over here earlier?”
“I don’t know, dear. I didn’t do anything with it.”
“No, right here. It was right here when you and I were sitting on the couch.”
“If you want some fresh coffee, I just made a pot at my house. Come on over and you can have some Snickerdoodles. I’m almost done here.”
“Millie, the cup was here. I want that one.”
“Sorry. I don’t know anything about it.”
I stood and frowned a moment.
“Do you think maybe Burt picked it up?” I said.
“He wasn’t here, dear. He feels a cold coming on and I told him to stay in bed.”
“Did the police come by? Anybody? Are Joe’s folks back?”
“I don’t know. I went to get my mop and the phone rang. I was at home for about twenty minutes.”
“And you left the door open?”
“I thought it was okay, Kathleen. What’s wrong?”
“Think, please. You must have picked it up. It was right there when I left. It might help us know who shot Anna.” I pulled down the dishwasher door in search of the mug. The racks were empty.
Millie’s face fell. “I may be old, but I still have a memory. I didn’t do anything with a cup of coffee.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be sharp.” I started pacing and thinking at the same time. “It’s just, it’s very important I get that cup. I think the person who shot Anna had used it.” Anyone could have claimed to be a friend of mine and convinced Anna of it. She wouldn’t recognize any people from the hospital. And she would have been more concerned about me than verifying the source anyway.
<
br /> “Millie, can you keep your eyes open for me? Just watch and listen, and see if anything unusual happens. Maybe strangers you’ve never seen before. Anything, let me know, okay?”
Her usual chipper spunk wasn’t there. She looked her age right then. “I’ll try. I’m sorry if I messed up. I shouldn’t have left the door unlocked.”
“Never mind that. No use crying over spilled milk.”
“Or lost coffee?” she said.
“That’s right.” I hugged her, hoping her sparkle would return soon. “Or lost coffee.”
I left and took the bus (much more-economical) home. I lay down and stared at the ceiling until I had to get up and go back to work.
Chapter 33
Tangled in a sea of covers, I imitated a bass flipping around on a boat deck. My eyes burned like sizzling sand and my lids felt as thick as catfish lips. I wrenched myself out of bed. The clock had somehow already hit five, leaving time to scarf a bite, feed Ollie, call Mack and leave him a message, and visit Anna before my shift started.
I spent an hour or so at Anna’s bedside while Joe went to get the meal I’d finally convinced him to eat. When he got back, I reported to work and somehow managed to get through my shift without screwing up in any major way, in spite of my mind continually drifting back to Anna and Charlotte. I couldn’t keep my thoughts away from them, especially with the burn in my stomach continually reminding me how bad things were. Tums couldn’t fix this.
When I awoke Tuesday afternoon, stiff, achy, and exhausted, I remembered I was supposed to go back to the doctor for another blood draw. It hadn’t even crossed my mind with all the events of the previous four days. I tugged on some jeans and a sweatshirt and threw together a PBJ so I could get to the office before it closed. I called to check on the hours, and learned I was already too late. They were closing and I couldn’t make it in time.
But before I hung up, the office nurse told me to hold a minute and Dr. Chen came on the line.
“Kate, I thought you’d be in by now.”
“I’m trying. It’s been a rough few days.”
“Can you come in tomorrow? We can work you in and I’d like to see you too, not just have your blood drawn.”
“That should work. I’m working tonight. I’ll get off at seven-thirty.”
“How about four-thirty in the afternoon? You’ll have some time to sleep then.”
“Okay. I’ll be there.”
We hung up and the door buzzer rang. Mack! Finally! I needed to see him so badly. We kept missing each other. After the one time I’d gotten through to him from the hospital when Joe and I were waiting for Anna to come out of surgery, I kept getting his voicemail. He’d left a couple of short messages but said he wanted to see me in person and for me to call him back ASAP. After so many misses, he probably figured the best way to talk was to come over when he knew I’d be home. We needed to discuss a lot of things, like the face-to-face apology he owed me and then reconciliation for the abandonment at the dinner dance. But all of that was eclipsed by what had happened to Anna and Charlotte. I just needed him to hold me for a bit, and we’d work out the details of apologies and making up afterwards.
“Hi,” I said through the intercom. I almost started crying.
“Miss Johnston?”
It wasn’t Mack.
“Yes?” I bucked up and made my voice as steady as possible. I’d deal with the disappointment that it wasn’t Mack later.
“Lieutenant Fosdick here. Can I come up for a few minutes?”
My stomach monkeys jumped. Guess he needed to ask a few more questions about Anna. He’d been in to see Joe a couple of times at the hospital while I was there, but I didn’t really have anything to tell him. I hadn’t been at the scene of the crime. This time.
“Come on in.” I pushed the buzzer.
After he came up, I offered him a Coke.
“No. Thanks though. This shouldn’t take long.” He didn’t want to sit either. He just stood backed up to my door, his feet far apart, like he needed the leverage to balance his wide bulk.
I waited for him to start, trying to keep my face relaxed. I didn’t want him reading anything into my expression. Like my boyfriend was mixed up with a kidnapper and murderer.
“I understand the McBrides were staying at Mr. McBride’s parents’ condo—on your advice.”
“Yeah.”
“Can you tell me why you suggested that?”
I took a deep breath and hoped my voice wouldn’t crack. My stomach monkeys started tossing each other against my gastric walls. It felt like I was getting into trouble. Maybe he could read my mind and he knew I was holding back. But I didn’t want to implicate Mack in something that I didn’t even understand myself.
I explained my theory about Howard’s killer and the kidnappings. I told him that I thought Carl was trying to find his baby—Nikki’s baby. I left out the part about the cloning and let him think Carl fathered the baby in the traditional manner. I told the lieutenant that all of the victims of the kidnappings knew Howard. And that someone had gotten into my apartment and taken Howard’s card right before his murder and the kidnappings started. Then I even told him about my coffee mug hypothesis.
His thick auburn unibrow puckered and his gaze intensified. I wasn’t sure if he was mad or fascinated by my ideas. He might have already known everything I told him. And some. He was the professional, after all. He watched me a while after I stopped talking. It gave me heartburn the way his eyes drilled into me. No wonder the monkeys were going nuts in there with all that heat. Their feet were sizzling on hot coals.
“Someone broke in? Did you report it?”
I shuffled my feet. “Um, no.”
His gaze didn’t falter. His red buzz-cut seemed to darken and bristle. I don’t think he was very happy with me.
“It didn’t seem important. Then. I can see now—”
“Did you ever mention to anyone where the McBrides were staying?”
I let the card theft go and thought back to Saturday night.
“Yes. Well, I didn’t tell, but a lot of people heard. Saturday we were all at a benefit dinner for the hospital. It came up in conversation.”
“Who is ‘we’?”
“Carl Schroeder, his date, Sheila Langley. My date, Jim Mackenzie. His sister, Jackie Schroeder—”
“Schroeder? As in Carl?”
“Yes, but they’re divorced. An older couple, Mr. and Mrs. Ellsworth—some rich people who’ve given gobs of money to the hospital. And a guy named Scott. I didn’t catch his last name. Jackie might know. She talked to him more than I did.”
“And all these people knew, as of Saturday evening, where the McBrides were staying?”
“I guess that’s right.”
“But you say you didn’t tell them?”
“No, um, my boyfriend kind of did. At least he said who’s house they were at, but not where it was.”
“Had he known for a time before this?”
“Yeah, I suppose. I think I told him a few days before.”
“Okay. Thank you, then, Ms. Johnston. That’s all I needed to ask for now. Thank you for your time.”
“Sure. Anytime.”
He left and I flopped on the couch, nearly squishing Ollie. I needed an antacid.
“Wow. I didn’t like that.”
Ollie thought it was pretty disquieting himself. All those questions. He didn’t like questions from strangers. You know. His consistency and all.
Chapter 34
The unit wasn’t very busy. After checking my ladies—none were in active labor—I asked Sarge to watch them so I could run up to check on Anna.
She was improving. Vitals were more stable, she was off Pavulon, the vent rate was lower, and the evening nurse had felt a slight squeeze from her hand. Joe, with his big sad eyes, was sitting in the corner looking as though he hadn’t slept in years. I gave him a hug and just held on tightly as the relief flooded through me that she’d turned a corner. I told Joe I couldn’t stay
right now, but I’d come back after my shift.
We stepped out of the cubical and into the hallway outside the ICU so we could talk openly.
“Lieutenant Fosdick came by again,” he said. “Said they’re calling this a kidnapping and attempted murder—for now, until we know if—”
—Anna will survive and what happened to Charlotte, is what he couldn’t say. My mind cried back Anna will survive. We will find Charlotte.
“—if anything changes,” he finished.
I couldn’t talk. I was afraid I’d choke up and then what good would I be to Joe? A deep, slow breath calmed me.
“He came to see me too,” I finally said, getting a hold of myself. “Did he think it was the same kidnapper as the others?”
“Maybe, though it was different. The others didn’t end up with someone on life support. But maybe would have if they’d been forced. The gun Anna had might have made him panic.”
“Did he say anything about leads, about knowing where Charlotte might be?”
“No. He didn’t talk much. I couldn’t read him.”
“Neither could I. He seemed different.”
Joe nodded. It was a pathetic sad twitch with so little energy.
“Can you get some sleep?”
“I doze off and on in the chair. Mom and Dad took turns sitting with me. They went home to sleep for a bit.”
“You call me if there’s anything I can do. I’ll be here all night and my patient load is light.”
“I better get back to her. I hate to leave her alone in there,” Joe said.
“I’ll sit with her in the morning. Then you can at least grab a shower. You don’t smell as good as usual,” I joked.
He mustered a weak smile and disappeared back into the ICU.
I returned to the unit and lost myself in my work. I stayed close to one lady whose blood pressure was on the rise. I didn’t leave her room much, since I’d given sleepers to my other two patients and they were dreaming away till morning when they were both scheduled for Pitocin. There were only five of us on tonight the load was so light. Charge Sarge came in around one to let me know I’d be going to first lunch with Sheila. Sarge and the other two nurses would go to second lunch.
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