Elementary, My Dear Watkins

by Mindy Starns Clark

  Alexa thought about the small side room where the doctor kept a desk and a file cabinet. He did a lot of paperwork in there. Even if the main notes weren’t kept on site, there might be something in there that she could find—some kind of list or printout.

  “Look, honey, the doctor’s running late today, but you can talk to him about this when he finally gets here. Tell him how you feel. Maybe…I don’t know…maybe he can try to put together a support group or an Internet loop or something for kids in stroke recovery. No one involved here wants you to feel like a freak. I think you just need some interaction with kids your own age for a change.”

  Alexa nodded, her plan already set. She was going to break into the office tonight and find the information that she sought. Dr. Stebbins might get angry if he found out, but that was nothing compared to the thrill of finding someone else—anyone else—who was just like her.

  12

  Three hours and forty-five minutes after leaving her grandmother’s estate in Westchester County, Jo finally spotted the exit sign on the highway that said “Mulberry Glen.” She had already given Fernando directions to her neighborhood, and she watched now as he took the exit and drove them there, steering through the lazy, tree-lined streets, past modest homes and rolling parks. Mulberry Glen.

  Home.

  Why did it feel as though she’d been gone forever? She had only left early yesterday morning, but it seemed like ages ago. She was glad now that she had asked Danny’s dad to drive her to the train station yesterday morning, intending to take a taxi or call Marie for a ride home, so that at least she didn’t have to retrieve her car from there now.

  The driver put on his blinker at Jo’s driveway, turned in, and pulled up beside the pile of charred rubble that had been her house, a roughly-repaired fence, and her lone little home office sitting in the backyard looking like a lost puppy.

  Jo went into the office after the bodyguard checked it out, and then Fernando showed up at the door a moment later with two huge Louis Vuitton suitcases on wheels, loaners from Jo’s grandmother. As the bodyguard stood near the doorway, Fernando opened each bag in turn so Jo could fill them with her necessary papers and equipment.

  “Is there more luggage in the car?” she asked, wondering whether she needed to leave room for her clothes as well.

  “Two more this big,” Fernando replied, “plus three smaller ones.”

  Okay. Obviously her grandmother expected her to stick around a while.

  In that event, Jo filled the second suitcase also, mostly with her chemicals and testing supplies. She’d miss the ease and convenience of having a built-in test kitchen right at her fingertips, but maybe her grandmother would let her set up something temporary that would suffice.

  Finally, when both bags were full, Fernando brought them back to the car and loaded them into the trunk.

  “You see that house there?” she asked him, pointing across the back lawn to Danny’s. “We’ll walk over and meet you. Just go around the block that way and come back up.”

  Fernando did as she said, though as he started up the limo and shifted into reverse, Jo noticed her across-the-street neighbor standing near her mailbox, eyeing the luxurious vehicle.

  “Jo?” the woman called out. “Everything okay?”

  Mrs. White had lived in the same house Jo’s whole life and was probably her favorite of all the neighbors. When Jo was young, whenever she came to stay with her grandparents, inevitably she would end up at some point over at the Whites with the other neighborhood kids, just hanging out or playing a game of Uncle Wiggly or learning how to knit. Trained as an RN, the woman was a nurturing sort who simply drew children like a magnet. When Jo grew up and finished college, Mrs. White insisted that she call her by her first name, Jean.

  “Hi, Jean,” Jo said now, walking toward the tiny octogenarian with the salt-and-pepper hair and sparkling blue-gray eyes. “Don’t worry. I’m fine.”

  “I saw the limo, and I wasn’t sure if someone died or if you were getting married again.”

  Jo cringed, wishing she could tell her the whole truth.

  “Neither. I…uh…I’m taking a vacation with my grandmother. She likes to travel in style.”

  “I can see that. And how do you do?”

  Jean introduced herself to the bodyguard and shook his hand, probably assuming he was Jo’s date. Not wanting to start any rumors in this small town, Jo quickly interjected that he worked for her grandmother.

  “I needed somebody strong to help with the luggage.”

  Not wanting to linger, Jo bid her sweet neighbor goodbye and hobbled back across the street, through her yard, and past the gate into Danny’s yard. The path between the two homes was well worn from years of use, a sight that almost always made Jo smile.

  Loving thoughts of Danny were on Jo’s mind as she waited inside the back door, the bodyguard doing a quick sweep through the house before giving her the all clear. Thinking of the man who was her best friend and also her true love, Jo found herself practically humming as she went about the business of packing up her clothes and personal items that were in his house. While Jo was living there, she had slowly been cleaning and organizing the place, not so much so that it would seem intrusive to him once he returned—as though she had rearranged his life or invaded his privacy—but just so that it was livable for her in the meantime.

  More than once she had resisted the urge to put up a fresh coat of paint in the living room or totally reorganize the way he had set up his kitchen cabinets. He probably wouldn’t have cared on either account, but she did. This was his home, and she wanted to respect all of the boundaries that ought to come with that.

  At Jo’s request, Fernando tossed out all of her perishables from the refrigerator and carried out the trash as she packed her things. Once she was finished, she told the two men she’d just be a few more minutes, and then she walked down the hall and opened the door to Danny’s tiny darkroom, stepped inside, and pulled the door shut behind her.

  The room hadn’t been used for weeks, not since Danny left, but there was something about being in there that made her feel close to him. She thought it was probably the smell—the odor of photochemicals and special papers and developer fluid—mixed with the worn spot on the floor where he stood as he worked, and the places on the counter where he had rested his hands so often that there were permanent smudges there.

  Placing her hands in the same spot, she simply closed her eyes and inhaled, wishing desperately that he would come home to her, knowing that she would never ask him to. In fact, she wouldn’t even tell him what was going on so that she would never be the one to have come between him and the dream come true he was currently living. Just a few more months, and then they’d be together again anyway.

  If she wasn’t killed in the meantime, that is.

  Alexa didn’t think Yasmine would ever leave. By the time the physical therapist said her goodbyes, got in her minivan, and drove away, Alexa had only a 15-minute unsupervised gap in which to break into the doctor’s office and search his files.

  At least she knew how to do it. She’d never done any breaking and entering, as some of her friends had, but she knew the techniques for getting past certain locks. She’d taught herself how a long time ago, when her mother would pass out on the couch inside their apartment and Alexa’s only choices were either to climb through a window or jimmy the door.

  All she needed was a little screwdriver or a slim piece of metal. Quickly, she rooted through the drawers of the workstation, but all she could come up were two paper clips. If the lock was simple enough, they might work.

  Running to the door she wanted to open, she knelt in front of it, bent the paperclips to a 45 degree angle, and placed them horizontally above the knob. Then she jiggled the clips with one hand while she twisted the knob with the other. Fortunately, this was no deadbolt, just a household key lock. Within 30 seconds (though it felt like 30 minutes) the knob twisted all the way and she was in.

  Holding her b
reath, Alexa got up, stepped inside and pulled the door quietly shut behind her. With the big glass window that separated the office from the rest of the room, she couldn’t exactly hide. On the other hand, at least there was enough light spilling through the glass that she didn’t need to turn any lights on. She simply sat at the desk and went to work, flipping through drawers, looking at files, and trying to find some clue about the others, the medical marvels like her.

  Jo’s last stop before leaving town was to get Chewie, who had spent the night at the home of Chief Cooper’s father, Harvey Sr. During Jo’s hospitalization and the week following that she’d spent at Danny’s parents’ house, Chewie had remained happily ensconced with his new best friend, the man everyone called Harv. Harv had lovingly cared for Jo’s dog until she was well enough to take him back herself, though he refused any sort of remuneration for his trouble other than a gift certificate from his favorite restaurant, the local pizza parlor.

  Jo stopped off now to buy another one and then called Harv to tell him they were coming. When they pulled up in front of his house, he was sitting on the front stoop, petting Chewie and holding tightly to his collar. He let it go as soon as the limo came to a stop and Jo climbed out. She simply got down on her knees right there on the grass, awkward though it was with the cast on, and held open her arms as the dog ran to her.

  Jo closed her eyes and embraced her big baby, knowing how foolishly dramatic their reunion must look, considering they’d only been apart for one day and night. She didn’t care. Jo was as happy to see Chewie as he was to see her, and she cooed and rubbed and cuddled him as he yapped and nudged her and furiously wagged his tail. They were together again.

  Jo thanked Harv and slipped him the pizza certificate, which he accepted with a laugh and tucked into his shirt pocket, thanking her.

  “Chewie here has a thing for spiders. Did you know that?”

  “You mean how he likes to torment them?”

  “Apparently, he likes to eat ’em too. Sort of.” He went on to explain how he had swatted a spider down from the ceiling with the broom, and the insect ended up sailing right into Chewie’s open mouth. The man laughed just thinking of it. “That dog got the weirdest expression on his face, kind of crossed his eyes like he was trying to look down his own throat, swallowed a couple of times, and walked away. Funniest thing I ever saw.”

  “Chewie will keep you entertained, that’s for sure.”

  Back in the car with Chewie this time, they set off toward the highway, Jo saying a prayer of thanks that the Lord had put so many kind people in her life.

  Chewie sniffed furiously at her cast, stepped on every inch of seat and floor while exploring the entire back of the limo, and finally settled down next to her, so close that she could feel his chest expand and contract against her leg with every happy, excited breath he took.

  Jo scratched him behind the ears and thought about Harv and Chief Cooper and Jean White and her friends Marie and Anna and Danny’s family and everybody at church and all the ladies in her Bible study group and the teenagers at the high school and on and on until she felt a huge swell of gratefulness for all that God had blessed her with in Mulberry Glen.

  Somehow, He had given back to her, as an adult, the connections she’d never been able to make as a child. Being moved from place to place for many years had left Jo feeling rootless, essentially friendless, and empty. But as she had put down roots in this little town and slowly allowed them to deepen, something had changed in her heart. She realized now that despite her recent problems, those roots had finally begun to allow her to blossom and grow in a way she never could have imagined before.

  Jo realized, with startling clarity, that she felt complete now, as if that gnawing need for connection that had eaten away at her for most of her life had finally been filled. Just seven and a half months ago, when Jo had been ready to marry Bradford, that need had been at its greatest, its most frenzied. That must have been what had made her so ready to jump into such a shallow and speedy relationship—because at least then she might be able to fill the void and silence the pain of her isolation.

  It wasn’t until the wedding fell apart and she was left to face the hurt and loneliness by herself that she had finally begun to deal with the void for real. Wanting to honor God and fix what was broken inside of her, Jo spent the next six months immersing herself in introspection, Bible reading, prayer, and sharing, even joining a Bible study group for single women, led by Danny’s sister, that often felt more like a group therapy session than a mere lesson. Jo had known that true healing could only come through her relationship with God, but what she hadn’t expected was the different ways God would heal and grow her, not just through His Word, but also through the loving ministrations of His people. Jo had literally been led into wholeness not just by her King but by His kingdom here on earth. Those six months had been a time of serious personal growth on many levels. In the end, the most important step for Jo had been to let go of the notion that a mere man—any man other than Jesus—could make her whole. Once she did that, everything else seemed to fall into place.

  After that, when her best friend Danny told Jo that he loved her, she had done even more soul-searching, finally coming to understand that real love—true, gut-level, forever-kind-of-love between a man and a woman—was about trust and vulnerability and real sharing and bonding, not just the pale imitation that she had found with Bradford. With God’s help, Jo understood that she could now give her heart fully because it was already whole on its own. Finally telling Danny that she loved him too had been the easiest, most natural words she’d ever had the opportunity to say, even if she had been flat on her back in the hospital at the time.

  Nowadays, she was simply waiting for him to come back to her so that they could move on toward the next phase of their lives, together. It was hard to wait, but just as God had used the pain of the failed wedding to help her grow, Jo had no doubt that He was also making use of this time apart from Danny as well. Her biggest prayer was to understand what lessons God was still trying to teach her. In her best moments, Jo had to admit that she wanted to keep learning, to continue to become the person He truly wanted her to be. When she wasn’t feeling quite so pious, she was more likely to stomp her feet and demand to know why God was keeping them apart.

  Either way, she missed her true love more than she’d ever thought possible. Perhaps, she realized now, what God most wanted her to get from this situation was empathy. For the first time in her life, Jo finally understood how Danny must have felt all those years when she was traveling around the world with her parents and he remained back in Mulberry Glenn, just waiting for her to return. The waiting was pure torture. More than anything, she wanted Danny to come home, so they could go on with their lives and get married and live happily ever after.

  Correction, she thought. I’d like to live happily ever after…if only I could figure out who’s trying to kill me.

  Alexa’s search seemed fruitless. As the clock ticked on the wall across the room, her efforts grew more and more frantic. There were some files and notes in here, and a lot of computer printouts, but it was all just numbers and codes and scientific-type stuff. She couldn’t make sense of any of it, and there wasn’t a name or address to be had in the whole bunch.

  She was about to give up completely when she found one thing that was promising, a single sheet of pink Phone Message paper that had been shoved up in the corner of a drawer and forgotten, hand written from some secretary for Dr. Stebbins. There was a name and a callback number, and the message filled up almost the entire bottom of the tiny page: “Mrs. Finch called about the scan on Emma. Call her at above number to discuss. Ethan doing great, wants to know how much longer before he can go horseback riding.” The message was dated from last summer, which made the timing about right.

  Alexa wasn’t sure, but she thought this might be exactly what she needed. It was worth a try anyway. She slipped the note into her pocket and tucked away everything else. Then sh
e reached for the door and quietly swung it open. As she took a step out, she heard the surprised voice, deep and distinct, of Dr. Stebbins, only a few feet away.

  “Alexa?” he demanded. “What were you doing in my office?”

  On the way back to New York, Jo had Fernando make a detour through Gilbertsville, so that she could go to her favorite pet store and pick up some supplies for Chewie. Once there, Jo wished that she had time to stroll the aisles and shop for a while. But with a very ostentatious limo sitting in the parking lot under the “Zimmers’ Pets” sign, a hovering bodyguard who was making her nervous, and an agitated Chewie at her side desperate to play with all of the puppies that were for sale, Jo needed to hurry.

  Moving quickly through the family-owned-and-operated store, she was able to find everything she needed except the smoked bones, a treat that helped prevent the buildup of tartar on Chewie’s teeth. She asked a polite young man, one of the Zimmers’ sons, where they were keeping the bones now. As he led her there, she noticed the familiar bright, neon green socks peeking out at his ankles. She had spotted the socks on other employees and family members on previous visits to the store, and now she wondered if Alexa might like a pair. It seemed like something a teenager might wear.

  “Hey, Kevin,” Jo said to the owner as she approached the cash register and put down her items. “I have a question for you.”

  “Shoot.”

  “As usual, everyone in here seems to be wearing neon green socks. Is that part of the store uniform, or just a teen fad?”

  The man grinned and held up his own leg, tugging up his pants to reveal yet another flash of neon green at the ankle.

  “Not a fad or a uniform,” he said, “and not just for the kids. It’s the Zimmers’ family trademark.”

  He rang up her items as Jo dug out a credit card from her purse.