I didn’t think Sky would take kindly to an ambush, so I texted her from The Street Bar and asked if I could stop by the hospital to ask her a few questions. She replied right away with a chipper Sure! And so I grabbed my purse and said a quick goodbye to my dad, determined to make it there before visiting hours ended.
On my way to Mass General, I called Spike from the Uber and told him everything I’d figured out today. The driver kept glancing at me in the rearview, until I explained to him that I was brainstorming a screenplay idea.
“So where are you off to now?” Spike asked.
“Mass General,” I said. “I’m going to see what I can get out of Sky.” The driver glanced at me again. “You know…for screenplay research.”
“Whatever,” Spike said. “You want me to come?”
“I think it’s best if you stay with Elspeth,” I said. “We don’t know who…the other characters are going to be and if they might…surface in the third act.”
“I hate it when you speak in code,” he said flatly.
“I can’t help it,” I said. “You have to admit, this is a very scary-sounding script, and we don’t need people telling others…about our idea.”
He gave me an exasperated sigh. “Look, Greta Gerwig, I really don’t think Elspeth shot Sky.”
“Tell me why,” I said.
“Okay, I’m not being sexist. But she’s very small, especially in the shoulders. Even if it was just a .22—and I’m guessing it was a higher caliber if it did the damage you said it did to Sky’s shoulder—the kickback alone would probably take her arm out of its socket.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. Plus, she’d be more traumatized than she is.”
“Yeah?” I said. “How is she?”
“Pretty good, considering. Calling friends. Working her way through my menu. I gave her one of Flynn’s tracksuits to wear so she didn’t have to be in that bloodstained Armani anymore. Fits her pretty good. Which concerns me about Flynn.”
“Okay, so I tend to agree with you. But that means someone else had to have shot her.”
“Don’t forget to say ‘in the screenplay.’ ”
“In the screenplay.”
“God, that’s annoying.”
“It means there’s more of them working with our villain. And so our supporting character needs to be protected.”
“I know, I know,” he said. “I’ll take her to your place after work. How’s that? It went pretty well before. Your building’s secure. And you can update us on whatever you get out of Sky.”
“Sounds good.” I smiled. “For the screenplay.”
Spike ended the call without saying goodbye.
Five minutes later, we were at Mass General. I got out of the car quickly and headed for the elevators, checking my watch as I ran. I had about twenty minutes before visiting hours ended. I wondered if that was enough time for the truth to work itself out. I hoped so.
I arrived at Sky’s floor and headed directly for her room, bumping squarely into Maurice from behind. He was still wearing his security guard uniform, along with a heavy coat, and he was talking to one of the nurses. He turned around when I bumped into him. “Sunny!” he said. “Good to see you.” Sky’s room was empty.
I looked around. “What’s going on?” I said.
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Maurice said, turning back to the nurse. “This young lady says Sky was discharged an hour ago. But I was told by Sky herself that she was being kept overnight for observation.”
The nurse shook her head. “That was never the plan, though,” she said. “She was never told that. She was probably just confused.”
Maurice turned to me, his eyes widening slightly. “Probably,” he said. The nurse left. I looked at him.
“She clearly told me tomorrow morning,” he said.
“Me too,” I said. “She even texted back ‘Sure’ when I asked if I could stop by the hospital tonight.”
“Really?”
I nodded.
“It’s almost like…I don’t know…she didn’t want anyone to find out when she was leaving.”
Something passed between us—a knowledge that neither one of us seemed to want to voice.
I cleared my throat. “I told my dad about you, by the way,” I said. “He told me to tell you hi.”
“Phil’s a great guy,” he said.
“He feels the same about you.”
“That’s good to know,” he said. “Because I was going through some things back then.”
I gave him a smile that I hoped looked understanding. “We all go through things,” I said.
“True story,” he said.
“Maurice?”
“Yeah?”
“I think Sky may be up to something.”
He breathed out loudly. “Oh, man, I’m so glad you said that.”
“You are?”
“I’ve thought it for a while now,” he said. “I think she’s harboring Dylan.”
“What?”
“That’s not what you were thinking?”
“Well, it was part of what I was thinking,” I said. “Kind of. Maybe.”
“Okay, well, can I tell you what’s going through my head first?” he said. “Because my, uh, theory has time constraints.”
I looked at him. “I’m all ears,” I said.
He spoke very quietly. “A bunch of times since he disappeared, I’ve seen her talking on her phone to someone in a very low voice. And when she sees me looking at her, she hangs up. Mid-sentence sometimes.”
I nodded.
“Then I found this on her desk.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket—a list, written in neat block letters. I read it.
3 warm sweaters, men’s large
4 sets long underwear—men’s large
1 jar instant coffee
5 cans tuna, packed in water
6 boxes pop-tarts—frosted strawberry, chocolate (anything but cinnamon)
1 bottle Maker’s Mark
1 bottle Johnny Walker Black
3 bottles Oxy (in medicine cabinet)
I looked at Maurice. “That’s not for Sky,” I said.
“I know,” he said. “I brought it with me to the hospital because I wanted to confront her with it.” He cleared his throat. “I found one like it a few days ago—you know, with different things on it,” he said. “I was super-curious. I guess it’s the cop in me. But I decided to stake her out. I followed her from work. She does all these errands, stops at the liquor store, the drugstore, Dylan’s apartment building. Then she starts driving out of town. I follow her to this crappy stretch of beachfront, just outside of Marblehead. I think my dad took me to a carnival there once when I was a kid.” He rolled his eyes. “Jesus, my dad was a cheap asshole. Anyway, Sky stops at this motel—The Dunes, it’s called. It’s a pit. Meth Addict City. And I watch her bring all these bags into this one room on the first floor.”
I stared at him. “You didn’t go in?”
He shook his head. “I felt like a stalker,” he said. “Like it was none of my business, and I’d probably lose my job if I did anything more. I also thought, What if it isn’t Dylan? What if it’s a crazy sister nobody knows about or a secret boyfriend or something, and I’m about to insinuate myself into someone’s private business?”
I nodded. “Do you still feel that way?”
“No,” he said. “I mean, I don’t think I do.”
“Good,” I said. “Because I think you should insinuate. I think it’s the right thing to do.”
“Really?” he said. “You don’t think I’ll look like some creepy stalker?”
“Okay, listen,” I said. “There’s a crime investigation going on, and even though I don’t think Dylan had anything to do with these shootings, he’s wanted for questioning. And if it goes much further and they think they’ve got enough on Dylan to make him a suspect, Sky is, at the very least, aiding and abetting a fugitive.”
“Wait, hold up,” he said. “You don’t think Dylan did the shootings?”
“You want to go to The Dunes or not?”
“I’m not sure I—”
“Because you’re right, it’s time-sensitive. And if you’re really going to talk to Sky and Dylan, convince them that what they’re doing is wrong and that they should come back, you should do it now, before Sky leaves.”
“I should, right?”
I took a breath. Said it as casually as I could. “If you think it would help, I can go with you.”
His face brightened. “Okay, see, that wouldn’t look anywhere near as creepy.”
It was a special type of thrill, that feeling of everything coming together the way I wanted it to—a missing person about to be found, a criminal about to be brought to justice, all those questions roiling in my mind finally on the verge of being answered. It happened rarely during cases, but when it did, like right now, it was exhilarating. How could I give this feeling up for the man I loved? Maybe I won’t have to. Maybe he’ll wait.
Maurice was looking at me expectantly. I smiled and clapped his shoulder. “Come on, big guy,” I said. “Let’s hit the beach.”