GANDALF SIMON

Was this a good idea, walking around the gardens with the missing woman’s daughter? She and Jess barely knew Lexi. She did not live on the Court, but she visited her parents regularly; at least it seemed that way to Gandalf. She and Jess didn’t have many friends and Gandalf knew that was her fault, so having another person to walk and talk with—even someone whose mother was missing and possibly worse—was a welcome change in a twisted kind of way. And Gandalf had always been curious about the Community Gardens.

“I walked through the gardens yesterday from where I parked,” Lexi said. “I didn’t see any sign of my mother. But we’ll take a closer look.”

“Do your parents have a garden plot?” Jess asked.

Lexi shook her head. “Mom loved to grow flowers in the yard, but she’s arthritic and can’t do much anymore.”

They reached the gravel road circling the seven acres of garden, carved by footpaths into square plots. Surprisingly orderly and neat for something as messy as dirt and dead plants and compost. Lexi pointed to the left. “Let’s start here and go up and down the rows, okay?”

Gandalf nodded and tightened the scarf around her throat, studying the garden squares on both sides of the path. At least the rain was over. Rainstorms, with wind and raw chill, sent her reeling back to the island, to the quarry, to an urge to escape she could only soften by curling up in bed and covering her head with pillows. She rarely came outside in daylight, but most nights she walked for an hour or longer on the sidewalks and pathways of the neighborhood, trying to tire herself out enough to sleep.

They walked in silence. Some plots were neat, with dead plant material removed and rake marks visible in the partly frozen soil. A few plots were covered with strips of burlap held down by stones and bricks. Others sprouted brown stalks, dead leaves and the occasional shriveled tomato or pepper.

“Mom!” Lexi called out. “Mom, are you here?”

“Not many places a person could find shelter here, are there?” Jess commented.

Lexi’s face crumpled. “She gets cold so easily. She’ll freeze out here if we don’t find her.”

Jess put her arm around Lexi and hugged her. For the hundredth time in their lives together, Gandalf wished she could be as spontaneously warm as Jess.

“What about that?” Jess pointed to an overgrown plot containing a wooden structure. It could have once been a grape arbor, or perhaps a greenhouse abandoned to the elements. Black plastic was draped across the top and sides and nailed down, but one loose piece flapped in the chilly wind. Lexi picked her way between tall stalks that might have grown Brussel sprouts. She lifted the blowing edge and peered inside.

“Anything?” Jess asked.

“Just tools and buckets.” Lexi rejoined the women on the path bordered by piles of wood chips and deep moist dirt, dried brush and leaves. “I keep trying to understand, but I just don’t know what Mom was thinking, leaving the house like that.”

“Do you think it was her dementia?” Jess asked.

Lexi stopped walking and turned to face Jess. “I’m not convinced my mother has dementia. Her symptoms started too rapidly. I’ve been reading about Alzheimer’s. This, whatever it is that my mother has, doesn’t feel right.”

“What are you saying? What do you think happened to your mother?” Gandalf asked, not really wanting an answer that would involve her and Jess more with this woman and her family and their problems.

“I don’t know,” Lexi said. “But I think her disappearance might have something to do with my father.”

Gandalf’s expression probably matched the shocked look on Jess’s face. Lexi stared at them both, her face flushed.

“Forget it,” Lexi said. “I don’t know what I’m talking about.”