22

 

“What are you doing here? How did you get in my house? Don’t you know what time it is?” I should call the police instead of asking inane questions.

“Ivy, Ivy, I’ve missed you.” Stanley Brewer held out a foil-wrapped box. “I brought you these.”

“Stanley, you can’t just walk inside a person’s house.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Isis came from the direction of my bedroom. I wondered if Stanley might have accidentally let Memnet out during an earlier foray.

“I see you still have that old cat.” Stanley tried to make nice.

“That is not Memnet,” I replied.

Isis curled her ears back and the tip of her tail twitched.

I folded my arms. “Stanley, how did you find out where I live? And what are you doing here? How did you get in?”

“I jiggled the handle. It turned. Can we sit?”

“No.”

“I’ve been driving for hours, Ivy. This isn’t my normal route. I’m tired.”

“So’m I. You mean, you sell this kind of candy now? You used to work for—”

“I’ve changed companies. A lot of things, actually. Ivy, I just wanted to see you, talk to you.”

“At midnight? By breaking and entering? Yes, I see things have changed, and not necessarily for the better.”

“It’s not like that. I…”

I tapped my slippered foot on the linoleum. It didn’t make the annoying sound I desired. I sighed. “Stanley, this is not a good time. Come back later. At a decent hour. And call first.”

His receding chin lowered until it disappeared inside the collar of his coat. “I don’t have your number.”

“You know where I—oh, never mind.” I marched over to the phone on the counter and picked up a business card. I thrust it in his direction. “Here. Take this.”

He accepted the card, turning it over and over, staring at it. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything. I…I’ll call you.”

Famous last words. Again. My life was turning into one big cliché. I closed the door behind him, and set the deadbolt. With all the commotion, I suppose I could have forgotten to latch it earlier.

I leaned my head against the coolness of the door and let my eyelids meet. That satchel he hitched over his shoulder. Something about it seemed familiar. Exhaustion swirled around me like fog. “Isis, I’m beat up. I lost my best friend Memnet and found Stanley. Not an even trade in my book. I can’t think about this anymore. Bed!”

In the morning I woke to Isis pouncing on my feet. In my dream, I had been walking quickly along the bed of the Founders River but running to or from a man carrying a salesman’s sample bag, I did not recall. One thing was clear, however. My guest from last night had not found my house by chance.

“Good morning, Isis. You’re in a playful mood, aren’t you?” She bounded up to nip my hand, but gently. “If you’re telling me to be careful about our midnight visitor, I agree. He was the perp who stole my purse. Right before the candy started showing up. I remember where I ran into him before. On the sidewalk.”

An internal debate over whether or not to call the police backlit my entire morning routine. I should not have spent this much effort making this decision. I knew what my mother would say. She had not been openly hostile to Stanley, but neither had she been welcoming; not as she behaved with Adam Thompson.

As I washed my breakfast dishes, I decided to give Stanley the benefit of my doubt and hear him out.

Virgil telephoned about 9:30 for a consultation about Memnet. “We just finished hanging up the rest of the posters, Miss Ivy,” he told me. He sounded out of breath and I wanted to urge him to take it easy.

“Thank you so much, Virgil,” I said instead. “You and the Seeds have helped me love Apple Grove even more.”

“If only we could organize and find out how Mayor Conklin contracted that disease,” Virgil replied.

That surprised me. “I agree. Donald invited me to move to Apple Grove. He was a constant friend and I’d dearly love to know what happened to him and to Tut. The mayor’s cat has been missing a long time, too.”

“Well, well. I think we have a lot to talk about. Can we meet up some time to discuss this?”

I wondered for an instant if he had read my email to Addy. Even if he had, I instinctively felt that he was on our side.

“Yes. I agree. I’d like to talk to you.”

“After we find your cat.”

“Yes.”

“Until then. Good-bye.”

The next call I answered was, if possible, worse than finding out Memnet was missing. Little Jenny had apparently decided to look for him herself. According to her frantic grandmother, no one in the neighborhood or the family had seen her for several hours.

Yolanda was in shock, I decided when I heard her strained announcement. “I—we—oh, Ivy, Jenny wasn’t in her bed this morning. Her daddy called me all in a panic, thinking she might have come here or even that he’d forgotten if she really had been with him. He’s so confused. All I can think of is that she went to search for Memnet.”

“Yolanda, I don’t know what to say. Who told her we didn’t find him last night?”

Raw emotion vibrated over the line.

“Yolanda. We’ll find her. She can’t have gone far. Everyone will help. I’ll be right there.”

The thought nagged at me that we might end up near the river. Had Jenny been around when we talked about the tunnels? She was quite a resourceful little girl. Where were the other entrances? I’d wait before I brought the idea up to the authorities, see if we found Jenny safe and well first. Just in case, I grabbed the flashlights we used last night, pulled out my old backpack and began to fill it with water bottles, crackers, and matches. What else? Rope? It might be melodramatic, but I wanted to be prepared for anything. I rummaged in the garage until I came up with the remaining plastic-coated coil I used to restring the clothesline. Cell phone. I pulled a whistle out of my purse. How about chalk to mark the walls? Well, it worked in the movies. Backpack full, jacketed and gloved, I was ready. We were to meet at city hall in ten minutes.

Stanley stood in the driveway.

“I thought you would call!” I was thoroughly worried and irritated. I kept walking to my car.

“Your line was busy. Where are you going? On some hike? I didn’t know there were any trails around here.” Stanley followed me.

“This is still not a good time. There’s a little girl missing. She’s trying to find Memnet and now she’s lost, too, and I have to help search for her.”

The hairs Stanley combed across the middle of his forehead blew in the breeze. “But I saw Memnet last night.”

My Christian charity was down to a trickle. “I told you, that was not Memnet.”

His pale brows wrinkled as he tried to work this new problem. “Now you have two of those weird cats?”

“Stanley! I don’t have time for this!” I slammed my door and started the engine.

He put his hands on the car. “I want to help, too.”

The stubborn knight to the rescue routine was also new for him. I rolled down my window and leaned out. I glared pointedly at his linen suit, his shiny leather shoes. “You can’t wear those clothes on a search and rescue mission,” I told him. “And you’ll get filthy. Stanley. I’ll talk to you later.”

“I don’t care. I can help. I want to help.”

I started to back out, but he ran around the car, grabbed the passenger door and managed to open it on the run.

“Stanley!” I jerked the gear shift to come to a halt.

He got in and closed the door, then pulled the seatbelt across his chest.

“You used to be more meticulous about your clothes than my roommate freshman year. You recall Amy, who was in fashion design? The one you used to ogle when you thought I wasn’t looking?”

“I told you, I’ve changed.”

I drove downtown in tight-lipped silence. When I stopped at the four-way, I said, “You stole my purse.”

“I can explain that.”

“Really?” I found an empty parking spot behind the hall. I turned off the engine and eyed the milling crowd at the municipal parking lot. We had a minute or two before the search began. “I’d like to hear your side. But maybe I should just talk to the police.” Seeing two uniformed men, I started to open the door.

Stanley put his hand on my arm. “Ivy. Wait. Please. I heard someone say that you’d moved. Just random, one afternoon when I had lunch. I don’t even know who…”

I rolled my eyes and got out.

He scrambled too. “I just needed time to think. I wanted to make changes in my life, but I was afraid you’d laugh or something. We were so used to doing the same things the same way. Then, this other career move came along—”

“Are you telling me you’re not a chocolate salesman anymore?”

“There’s more to it! We have a great product line. More than candy. It’s coffee—”

“It’s not different, Stanley. I never cared what you did for a living, only that it was something you wanted to do. Now, what about my purse?”

“I couldn’t believe it. I searched for you for weeks, and there you were. I got close enough to talk to you, but then…” he flushed an unattractive cream of tomato soup color. “I chickened out.”

“How did you…?”

“Well, I didn’t reach my hand in your pocket, in case you were wondering. It, um, I heard something fall, and after you went past, I went back to look. I didn’t take anything, Ivy. I just wanted to see where you lived. That’s all!”

“You waited a long time before you returned it. And why didn’t you just call? Oh, yeah, I remember. You didn’t have my number. Excuse me, but I need to go help my new friends.”

Stanley followed me to Virgil, who held a clipboard he used to check in and pair up volunteers. Stanley stated his name to Virg in a deep voice and offered his services. Virgil looked my former fiancé up and down. In the end, I took pity and vouched for him. Virg’s eyes narrowed, but he handed Stanley a whistle and told him to join Marty and Wilbur, two guys from the senior set whom I had met last night. Limp-fingered handshakes were applied to Stanley. Marion and Bob and the Gaineses made up another group, and I recognized quite a few people from church or through my work.

“You know that guy from where, Ivy?” Virg asked me out of the corner of his mouth.

“Previous life.” Ignoring Stanley, I went to Yolanda and hugged her. “We’ll find her.”

Yolanda held on to me, her whole body trembling. “This is so hard on Jim.”

A whistle blast caused us to straighten and turn toward Virg.

He held up a whistle in his right hand and the clipboard in his left for attention. “Folks, Yolanda thinks little Jenny went to look for Miss Preston’s spotted gray cat named Memnet. Some of you remember, Memnet disappeared yesterday and hasn’t been found. Yolanda also told me that the little girl thought she saw a cat near the Founders River earlier, so we’ll start our search there. Now, we’ll do it like this: spread out in pairs but keep the next closest group in your sight at all times. Walk slowly and carefully and use your whistle if you see anything suspicious. We’ll work both banks before we move inland. Any questions?”

He dealt with “what if we just find her clothes,” or “what if we find her dead” with a swift instruction to “stay put and holler for someone to come and don’t touch anything” and sent them out.

While the others went and searched along the river, I told Yolanda and Virg that I’d just walk up and down the streets of downtown, and look in all the alleys on the east side. Many of those businesses long ago fled, leaving gaps of empty darkened windows along vacant storefronts. Yolanda and I shared a lingering gaze, telling each other not to feel guilty. Small comfort, but comfort none the less.

I wouldn’t admit that I had an ulterior motive. I wanted to check the alley behind the barbershop where I had spoken to the mystery man the night of the fire.

Yolanda and Jim’s neighbors all came to help, as well as several teachers from the elementary school. The day was overcast, adding to the sense of gloom. I could hear calls of the searchers echoing along the riverbanks and under the bridge as I strode briskly along the sidewalk into the downtown shopping district. I realized I was close to Adam’s when Tiny’s deep fryer aroma clashed with the spicy scents from Lo Mah’s. I walked up Lombardy to Main Street, where I could see the blackened bricks of Mea Cuppa’s upper level. New windows and a power washing would take place one day next week, according to Bob Green. The roof had already been replaced and drywall hung. I ducked into the various alleys along the east side of Main Street.

When I got to the barber shop, I paused, then crossed the street. Mea Cuppa was the middle of three shops, and the alley between Bob’s and Odds ’n Ends did not go all the way through. A tall fence discouraged anyone passing from Main to First. I walked back around the block behind Odds ’n Ends to First Street and then behind Bob and Adam’s.

A fire escape to Toad’s apartment ended at the alley. Adam’s metal stairs zig-zagged down the wall. Big, dark green waste bins lined a brick wall. The mystery man had hidden in the shadow by one of them. I moved closer, tilting my head at a speck of color on the ground. I glanced along the pitted, mottled cream city bricks to Mea Cuppa’s back door and then Bob’s. Bob had a window overlooking the scenic bins. I toed the item, which turned out to be a turquoise crayon. I kept my hands deep in the pockets of my coat. Anyone could have left this here. Any child with a penchant for coloring. A child, perhaps, named Jenny.

I didn’t touch the crayon but instead hauled out my cell phone and called Ripple, then Virg.