46
Leta stormed through the front doors of Heritage House and up to the receptionist. “I’m Leta Breckenridge—here to see my mother.”
Without waiting for the receptionist to acknowledge her, she bolted for the elevators and punched the button several times. There was a ding and the door opened.
Lester slowly toddled out of the elevator, this time with his pants on and Lucy holding his arm. “Oh, hey, Leta,” Lucy greeted her. “If you’re going to see your mom, she’s not up there.”
Leta panicked. “Where is she?” Without waiting for a response, she grabbed her phone and punched out 911.
“Honey, what’s the matter?” Lucy frowned. “It’s Wednesday. Your mother always has her hair done down in the salon on Wednesdays.”
Relief flooded over Leta.
“Hello. What’s your emergency?”
Feeling foolish, Leta spoke into her phone. “Cancel. No emergency. I apologize.”
Lucy looked concerned. “Honey, is everything all right?”
She assured Lucy all was fine and headed for the salon. Inside were four stations where residents who still had some level of cognitive ability could have their hair washed and styled. Her mother was sitting in the station nearest the window.
Leta headed that way. “Mom?”
A woman pulled the towel from her mother’s hair and grabbed a comb. “You her daughter?”
Leta nodded, wiggling her nose at the pungent odor of hair products heavy in the air. “Yes. Do you know how long before she’s finished up?”
The lady smiled. “Not long. Say, twenty minutes. Tops.”
Leta thanked her and pulled her phone from her bag a second time. “I’ll just wait over here, if that’s all right.”
She tucked herself into a hard plastic chair with wobbly legs and dialed Nate’s private number. The phone immediately went to voice mail.
“This is Senator Nathan Emerson. Sorry to have missed your call. Please leave me a message.”
Leta nervously rubbed her forehead. She needed him to be there.
“Look, uh, Nate—I can’t go into details, but I need you to call me. Please call me.”
She was about to end the call when suddenly Nate picked up. “Sorry, babe. I was trying to get off the phone with my mom. What do you need?”
She couldn’t help it. All the fear and emotion of the last several hours washed over her with the power of a tsunami. Tears flooded her eyes. “Nate, I’m scared and I need your help.”
With hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, Nate drove down the MoPac Expressway and across the Colorado River heading south.
He glanced in the rearview mirror at Leta. “I don’t understand. Who wrote that note?”
She clasped her mother’s fragile hand a bit tighter, worried the change in environment might frighten her and spur her to more confusion. Instead her mother watched out the window in fascination. “I’m not certain. But I have my suspicions.”
She told him about her findings at the secretary of state’s office, of what Bart had told her and what his files revealed.
“We’re calling the authorities.”
“Nate, are you sure? I know these people. They are willing to do anything, stoop to any level, to get Holiday elected. And now it looks as if there is a criminal element at play here. Shouldn’t we wait and make sure we have all the facts tied up in a manner that won’t let them wiggle free of any charges before breaking this into the open? I mean, I’m sure they have some backup plan. Even with Mom hidden away, I don’t trust them. They can find other ways to hurt us.”
She thought of Bernard Geisler, of his creepy black eyes and gold-rimmed glasses. “Clearly I failed to recognize how dangerous the situation really was.” She bit her lip. “Nate, I’m scared.”
“These are scary people,” Nate admitted. “Which is why we have to involve the authorities. And quickly.”
She could tell by the way he kept glancing in his side mirrors that he was nervous too.
“You did the right thing in calling me. I don’t want you to worry. This situation looks bleak, but everything will work itself out.”
She wanted to believe him, but even he didn’t sound all that convinced.
“You and your mom are safe. That’s what matters most.”
“But what about the campaign?” she argued.
“We have time to figure all that out. After we tell the authorities,” he assured her.
She looked out at the darkening horizon. The yuccas poking out from the ground looked like spears against the bloodred sunset.
“Okay, you’re right. We should get law enforcement involved.”
“I am right,” he said and gunned the engine.
They remained quiet as he continued driving. The lights of the metro area faded behind them, and soon Nate pulled off the highway and into his mother’s circular driveway.
Leta glanced over at her mom. She’d fallen asleep.
“Momma, Mom—wake up.” She gently nudged her mom, who slowly opened her eyes.
“Is that the castle?”
Leta couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, Momma. We’re at the castle.”
Nate parked the car and got out. He opened the rear door. “C’mon, Mrs. Breckenridge. Here, let me help you.”
Leta gave her mother over into his capable hands, then slid across the seat and opened her own door and got out of the car.
Porter and Vera stood out on the front portico. Vera waved.
Leta waved back, grateful for their offer of help. Suddenly another woman stepped into view. Her breath pulled from her chest as she saw the familiar woman standing next to them.
Jane Ladd.