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"I HAVE A FLOWER DELIVERY for Mary Shea," I said over the intercom while I stood outside the main entrance of The Lone Pine Nursing Home in Cooper's Creek, less than an hour from Mrs. Shea's last verified address. It was the third nursing home we'd been to, and the flowers were wilting. If Mary Shea wasn't here, we'd have to rethink our strategy as widening our circle beyond this point would eat up valuable time. I waited impatiently and nearly dropped the bundle when the buzzer sounded and I was allowed to enter.
An eagle-eyed resident sat near the door, watching for someone careless enough to let her see them punch in the code that unlocked the door for them to exit. Another resident, wearing pajamas, waved at me as I headed to the main office. I expected a fight over asking to personally deliver the flowers, but the attendant in the office just called one of the aides to accompany me to Mary's room. It wasn't what I had hoped for, but by the time we reached the room where Mary lived, the aide was bombarded by the patients with questions.
"I'm stepping outside for a smoke," she whispered to me at the room entrance. "Don't try leaving without me because I have the code to let you out. I'll be back in a few minutes."
I smiled. "No problem." She ran for the nearest exit while I turned to face the two women in the room. "Mary?"
The one nearest me was heavyset with a round red face and sparse hair. The shriveled one in the far bed nodded at me, so I took her the flowers. She clapped in excitement and grabbed them, burying her face in the arrangement. Then she lifted her nose and sneezed violently. She did this three times and was preparing to do it again, so I pulled the mangled bouquet from her hands and set it on her side table.
"You'll want to save them for a vase," I told her. I thought she might cry, but she smiled after a few seconds and pointed at the curtain, which I pulled so we could have a little privacy.
"Who sent them?" she asked.
I gave her the story Ida Belle, Gertie, and I had decided on. "I think they might be from someone named Robert. Or maybe it was Dennis." She didn't respond, so I gave her a mental nudge. "Does that sound familiar to you?"
She giggled and slapped her cheeks lightly with her hands. "He's my boyfriend."
"You don't got no boyfriend!" the woman in the other bed called.
"You mind your own business, Frieda!" Mary lowered her voice and whispered, "I have lots of boyfriends, and she's so jealous of me."
Oh, boy! "So do you have any brothers?" I asked.
"Hmm." Mary thought it over and replied. "Yes."
Great. I now had to pull teeth from a woman wearing dentures. "How many brothers do you have? Two?"
Mary nodded eagerly. "Yes, exactly! How did you know I have two brothers? Can you guess how many sisters I have?"
"No." I'm only interested in your brothers.
"You better guess, or she'll be asking everyone at dinner tonight," eavesdropping Frieda advised.
"Okay." I raised my eyes at the ceiling and guessed, "Five?"
"Eek! I can't believe it! You must know my whole family." Mary began bouncing in her bed, and I hoped she wasn't on activity restrictions.
"I only came to deliver the flowers," I stated carefully and wondered if Mary's mind was as creaky as her bedsprings. "Does Dennis come to see you?"
Mary glanced at the curtain dividing her bed from Frieda's, and she waved me closer. "He comes almost every night," she said in a conspiratorial whisper.
"How about Robert?" I asked. I already knew the answer but didn't want to give up, having made it this far. I hoped she might have a lucid moment if I asked the right question.
Mary's shoulders lifted as she covered her mouth and nodded. "Him too."
"Every night?" I couldn't help myself. I know it was wrong, but the old ladies' fantasies might be all she had to live for.
"Sometimes twice," she said with a coy expression. "I told them not to fight over me."
"And your brothers?" I asked, realizing too late I shouldn't have encouraged her because my question definitely made things awkward. Thankfully, Mary retained a sense of basic morality.
"Oh, no. That's wrong," she said, looking very serious. Her voice dropped, and she pointed at the curtain. "I tell them to go see Frieda when they come calling, but they don't like looking at all her moles."
I was ready to slap my forehead. "So your brothers come to see you?"
"Yes?" She sat forward and nodded, waiting for me to answer her question.
"What are their names?" I asked.
"Whose?"
"Your brothers!" Frieda screamed from her side.
"My brothers don't like you," Mary retorted.
I glanced at the door and couldn't decide if I wanted the aide to show up and end this circular conversation or if I should keep plowing. Well, as long as I was here... I took a calming breath and sat by Mary's bed. Maybe if she thought I was a visitor and not just delivering flowers, she might offer something useful.
She smiled at me. "Are you staying for supper?"
"Would you like me to?" I asked in an encouraging tone.
"Hell, no! They're serving meatloaf and it tastes like s***!"
Screams from Frieda interrupted the conversation, and she bellowed, "Mary's swearing, and I'm gonna tell!"
I hurried to Frieda's side to quiet her while Mary cried out, "You shut up over there or I'll tell my brothers not to visit you again!"
"Would you like some flowers?" I asked Frieda, desperately hoping she'd quit screaming for a nurse.
She did, but then asked suspiciously, "From who?"
Oh, God, please don't let me end up like this! Kill me first. "Who would you like to get flowers from?" I asked.
"It doesn't matter. What kind of flowers?"
"Roses?" My right eye twitched as I gazed longingly at the door. If Frieda asked what kind of roses, I was going to make a break for it, aide or not.
"Okay," she agreed, and I let out a sigh of relief. "What color?"
I emitted a strangled sound and handed her paper and a crayon from her tray. "You write down what you like," I told her before rushing back to Mary's side of the room.
She was holding her bouquet, giving it the stink eye. "I want orchids." The flowers sailed across her bed and smacked the wall beside me.
"You have quite an arm," I stated in admiration.
Mary nodded and smiled. "Dad taught me how to throw because I didn't have any brothers. I played in a state women's softball league, you know."
"We know! So quit bragging," Frieda snapped.
Since Frieda didn't dispute Mary's claim, I realized it was true and she wasn't the Mary we were looking for. I promised the ladies flowers before I hunted down the dallying aide and threatened to feed her the remaining cigarettes in her pack if she didn't let me out—pronto! After she set me free, I raced across the parking lot and hurled myself into the backseat of Gertie's Cadillac with Frieda's parting words still ringing in my ears. As I had left the room to find the aide, Frieda had shouted, "I want blue roses!"
Ida Belle snickered at my expression. "I take it that's not our Mary," she remarked.
"Make a note to send orchids and blue roses to Mary and Frieda in Room 142," I replied. "Gertie, can we go a little faster?"
"Blue roses? What happened?" she asked, ignoring my question and keeping her pace steady at five miles over the limit.
"Let's just say those women could offer tips on how to derail an interrogation," I admitted with a headshake. "It's too bad we couldn't have used the flower delivery scheme on more than one Mary at each of the nursing homes. If we have to go through this again tomorrow, then one of you gets to pose as a former neighbor."
"That would be Gertie," Ida Belle said. "I have an idea that I want to check when we get home. If it pans out for at least one of them, it will save us time and legwork."
"You won't hear me arguing," I replied. "I'm ready for some downtime!"
"Oh? Do you have plans for the evening?" Gertie asked. In other words, was I seeing Carter?
"I plan on watching a new kickboxing workout DVD," I replied. "Do you want to join me?"
Gertie made a face and mouthed to Ida Belle, "That's downtime?" before she smiled at me in the rearview mirror. "No, thanks. I need to rearrange my purse."
I knew Ida Belle wasn't interested because of her bunions, and I felt a little bad for deceiving them, but it wasn't an outright lie. I watched the DVD—with Carter.
***
WE MET AT IDA BELLE's in the morning, and she greeted me at the door with a broad smile. Either her hair had turned out really well or else she'd been successful tracking down another Mary. After a quick peek at her head, I decided it must be the latter.
Gertie was already in the kitchen drinking coffee, and she waved a brownie pan at me. "I made them last night. How was the kickboxing workout?"
I grabbed a brownie to lessen the impact of Ida Belle's morning coffee. "Good, but I'll need to add another workout to my routine if I keep eating these," I told her. Who knew total bliss could be achieved with only a piece of cake and a cup of caffeine? Not long ago a full magazine in my pistol and spares in my belt would have figured into that scenario. But now? I closed my eyes and enjoyed the combination before getting down to business.
"I found our second Mary," Ida Belle announced. "Todd's search was incomplete. He looked for connections to Mary Smith, but I also checked for connections to Mary Smith-Millette and Mary Smith-Vanderford, the other two women on our list. Mary Millette remarried a few years ago, and her last name is now Castille. I even have her address," she said. "It's about two hours from here in a town called Harmony."
"Great! That cuts down our search time, but we still have to figure out a way to approach her without spooking her," I said. "Any ideas?"
Gertie waved her hand, and Ida Belle rolled her eyes. "I should have known."
"Your ideas might be practical, but mine are creative," Gertie said.
"I think you mean crazy," Ida Belle replied. "Like the time you bought a goat so you wouldn't have to mow your lawn. How did that work out for you?"
"That was a slight miscalculation. In retrospect, I realize I should have purchased a pygmy goat instead," Gertie said.
"Did your neighbors suggest that after your goat shaved their vegetation? Or is the smaller one another 'creative' idea?" Ida Belle scoffed.
Gertie waved it off with a sniff. "So that wasn't one of my best plans."
"What about the time you tried running a chauffeur service?" Ida Belle taunted Gertie while I helped myself to another brownie.
"Who knew people were so picky? I wore a uniform. What else did they want?" Gertie replied.
Ida Belle snorted with laughter. "Where do I start? Just because that wreck you drive is a Cadillac does not mean it's a desirable mode of transportation. It looks like the runner up in a demolition derby. Then there's the matter of you being almost blind! Did you think wearing a black vest would make them overlook the fact that you were driving the wrong way?"
"There's nothing wrong with my eyes. The GPS wasn't working." Gertie moved the pan of brownies out of Ida Belle's reach.
"Probably because you didn't install the app!" Ida Belle hooted. "And let's not forget the little matter of your license. You didn't have a chauffeur's endorsement."
"A mere technicality. Fortune, you see why I don't even consider going into business with her. My creativity would be crushed under her negativity."
"I think you mean your flights of fancy would be held in check by my common sense," Ida Belle retorted.
I smiled fondly at them, knowing they'd shred anyone else who said those things. "Well, I think since Ida Belle found this one we should let her decide how to proceed," I suggested. Gertie looked crestfallen, so I promised we'd go with her idea if we needed to interview the third woman.
"You might put a little thought into finding her first," Ida Belle said to Gertie in a final parting shot. Then she stood and unplugged the coffeepot. "Well, I'm ready to go. Who's driving?"
"Well, don't look at me," Gertie huffed. "I don't have chauffeur's license."
"I'll drive." They glanced at each other quickly and shut me down. Riding in my Jeep is fine for short trips with no backseat passengers.
"Oh, no!" Gertie exclaimed. "I mean, we couldn't ask you to do that."
"She's right," Ida Belle said firmly. "Gertie will drive. Consider it her contribution to the team."
I looked at Gertie to see if she was okay with driving, and she shrugged. "If my driving was as bad as Ida Belle claims, she wouldn't ride with me."
We headed out and piled into Gertie's car, but I didn't voice what Ida Belle and I both knew. Riding with Gertie provided an adrenaline rush, one that we'd grown accustomed to having. But there was no way in hell I'd allow a loved one to ride with her!
Todd called for an update while we were on the road and sounded impressed with the progress we'd made. He also warned me to be on the lookout for members of the Money crew. He'd spotted a black SUV with dark windows following him, even when he made a detour. "That's the kind of tactics they use. The employees of Karen Downey and Associates won't hide behind dark windows, so you don't need to worry about anything underhanded from them. Just keep an eye out for the others and be careful."
I patted the 9mm I'd set on the seat next to me and assured him we were prepared to handle anything that came our way. I knew Ida Belle and Gertie were both packing as well. "How are things going at your end?" I asked.
"I talked to one woman yesterday. She assured me she was born in Mississippi and has a copy of her birth certificate to prove it. I have appointments for two more today."
"Well, good luck," I said.
"You too. I'll be in touch."
I passed along the information to Ida Belle and Gertie, and as we approached the outskirts of Harmony, Gertie asked about how Ida Belle planned to approach Mary.
"I'll ask for her brother Robert's phone number and say my husband went to school with Robert and would like to get in touch. If she has the information, then I'll inquire about Dennis and go from there," Ida Belle explained.
"That's the best you could come up with?" Gertie asked.
"What's wrong with it? It's not like she'll know I'm not married." Ida Belle bristled defensively when Gertie snickered.
"Unless she asks about your fictitious husband, what's-his-name. Then she's gonna know you're telling a whopper," Gertie predicted. "Although if you describe him as a browbeaten pantywaist she might believe you."
"Just shut up and find the right house," Ida Belle snapped. "Lord knows you have enough trouble driving mindlessly. Adding chatter and a destination might overtax your already strained capabilities."
"I don't know what you're talking about." Gertie pulled to the side of the street, and the back tire went over the curb. When the car finally settled, she said, "Well, I got us here, so don't judge me for one tiny mishap."
Ida Belle shook her head and asked me if I wanted to come with her. I hopped out of the car and asked, "What if she asks who I am?"
"You're getting as bad as Gertie," Ida Belle replied. "Follow my lead." It came as a disappointment when no one answered the door. I wanted to see Ida Belle in action, and we decided to try later.
"It's a little early for lunch," Gertie said when we got back into the car. "Any suggestions?"
"Let's find a library," I proposed. "We might be able to use Ida Belle's method to locate our third Mary."
"Nix that," Ida Belle said. "There's a black SUV with dark windows parked across the street one block back. It wasn't there a few minutes ago."
Gertie adjusted her rearview mirror. "I see them."
I cussed under my breath for missing it and said, "I should have considered the possibility that they would know we're working for Todd. And now we have a problem on our hands. If we stay, they could cause trouble, but if we go, they might get to question Mary first. Ideas?"
"Yeah!" Gertie started the Cadillac and slammed it into reverse. I grabbed my gun to keep it from flying off the seat when she accidentally turned the wheel the wrong way and then overcorrected. I scooted along the seat while Ida Belle's head whipped around. Ignoring good sense and traffic laws, Gertie plowed her way back toward the SUV.
"Okay, you're getting close," I told her. The car continued its backward dash and I yelled, "You can stop now!"
CRASH!
We were close enough that I should have been able to still see the astounded expressions of the men in the front seat, but their blown airbags prevented it. Before they could work themselves free of the airbag restraints Gertie patted her hair and put the Cadillac in drive. When she pulled away, her bumper fell off and clattered to the street.
"I guess that takes care of them," Gertie said.
"What about Mary?" Ida Belle asked indignantly. "How are we going to talk to her now? We can't come back here."
"Listen, I've done my part. You need to pick up the slack," Gertie said.
Ida Belle's face turned red, and I sat forward to stick my head between them. "We just need to find out where Mary is and talk to her before she returns home. Do you remember anything else, Ida Belle?"
She leaned around me and gave Gertie a saucy look before whipping out her cellphone. After pulling up a page, she handed it to me. I read the article that she had bookmarked before passing it to Gertie when she pulled into a parking lot. "How old do you think he is?"
"He's probably getting up in years like Sheriff Lee," Ida Belle said with a shrug.
Gertie returned the phone and remarked, "If you knew Mr. Castille was Chief of Police, why didn't you say so before I lost my bumper? We could have started there."
"Lost your bumper?" Ida Belle asked incredulously.
"Yes. It fell off while I was driving," Gertie stated matter-of-factly.
"So that harrowing fight you had with your steering wheel that gave me whiplash and nearly folded Fortune like an accordion is what you call driving?" Ida Belle pursed her lips and peered at Gertie from the corners of her eyes.
"That was offensive driving. I'm proficient at offensive and defensive," she said proudly.
"Now that I can believe!" Ida Belle snorted and then mumbled, "At least the offensive part."
I hid my smile and said, "I hate to interrupt, but I think we should find the police station and see if we can talk to Chief Castille. Do you have the address?"
Ida Belle nodded, and I punched the information into my phone and directed Gertie to the building. She parked in a city lot with her trunk backed up to a building. I put my gun under the front seat and got out of the car to open Ida Belle's door. "Have you thought of how you're going to handle this?" I asked in a low voice as we entered the small building. She nodded, so I let her take the lead.
"Can I help you?" A young officer standing behind a counter greeted us with a friendly smile.
Late twenties, five feet ten, a fit 170 pounds, contact lenses, minor hearing loss in right ear. Threat level: medium; high if provoked.
"Yes." Ida Belle stepped closer and examined his name tag. "Yes, Officer Millette—" She flicked her eyes at me and I lifted a shoulder, glad this one was in her court. "Are you by any chance related to Mary Castille?"
"Why, yes. She's my mother," he replied.
Mother? She's 75 and he's not even 30. But it's possible—obviously.
Meanwhile, the officer asked, "How do you know my mom?"
"It's a long story," Ida Belle said. "Is there any chance I could have a word with her? We stopped by the house, but she wasn't home and I don't know how else to contact her."
He stepped away from the counter and escorted us down a short hallway. "You can talk with Chief Castille."
"He's your mother's—husband, right?" Ida Belle asked.
The officer laughed. "Yeah, I introduced them a few years ago." He knocked on a door with a nameplate that said Chief of Police and opened it a crack. "There are two women here who'd like to have a word with Mom. Do you know where she is?"
"Show them in."
Officer Millette opened the door, so Ida Belle and I stepped into the office and faced Chief Castille. Early fifties, five feet eight, 180 pounds, impaired vision, fighting a spare tire and losing the battle, slightly arthritic fingers. Threat level: low.
Ida Belle greeted the chief as I examined the office and nudged her. Her eyes drifted to a photo of Chief Castille with his arm around a woman approximately his age.
"That's a nice photo," Ida Belle remarked. "Is that Mary?"
The chief's expression changed from welcoming to suspicious in a hot second, and I hoped Ida Belle knew what she was doing. "I thought you knew my wife."
Her imitation of Gertie's ditzy act that was so spot on, I nearly laughed. Ida Belle's eyes bulged, and she tilted her head at the picture with her brow furrowed. "I thought so too. I went to school with her."
"Did you now?" His brows rose at Ida Belle's comment, and she nodded.
"Yes, and when I heard that Mary lived here, I just had to come and say hi!" She applauded happily.
The chief's expression eased slightly at Ida Belle's look of goofy delight, and he sent me a quizzical glance before addressing Ida Belle. "Are you sure you have the right woman?"
"Well, it has to be her. I mean, how many Mary Smiths can there be, right?" Ida Belle lifted her shoulders and giggled.
He shook his head. "I'm afraid you're confused. Mary Smith-Millette is my mother-in-law. Mary Millette-Castille is my wife."
"Oh." Uh, oh. Well, that explains the age disparity. Ida Belle offered him a sheepish grin. "Oops. I guess I am confused. I'm hoping to find my school friend, Mary Smith."
"Where did you go to school?" he asked slowly.
Ida Belle blinked once, and I knew she was thinking fast. If he'd volunteered the name of the town where his mother-in-law went to school we had a better chance of pulling this off, but Ida Belle now was on the spot. However, the chances of her naming the right place were almost zilch, right?
"Chalk Lake," Ida Belle said, and my heart sank at the chief's look of surprise. A smile spread across his features until Ida Belle added, "Presbyterian Academy."
"I'm afraid you have the wrong person," he said.
Ida Belle pulled off a credible crushed look. Her face crinkled and she turned to me, grasping my arm. "But I'm sure I went to school with Mary Smith."
"We'll keep looking. Chief, thanks for your help." I patted her hand and flashed him a smile that said, Thanks for indulging her. Then I walked Ida Belle out his door. Officer Millette was at his post so I decided to give it one more shot. In a hushed voice, I said, "My friend was certain that your mother"—I rolled my eyes—"and then your grandmother was the person she's been looking for. If you could help settle her mind—"
Ida Belle played her part and pretended she was watching a fly buzz around the room, and Officer Millette gave me a sympathetic look. "Sure. What can I do?"
I whispered, "I know her real friend was adopted as a baby. If you could convince her your grandmother wasn't adopted, she'll let it drop. Unless it's true. In that case, it's best not to mention it."
"I understand." He came around and touched Ida Belle's arm to get her attention. She stared blankly and he smiled. "My grandmother showed me her baby pictures. Did you know she had a twin sister who died shortly after birth in the hospital? Grandma always told me she wished her twin had come home with her and her parents." His eyes flipped to me, and I nodded.
"She heard you, but it might take a while for her to process it. Thank you." I grabbed Ida Belle's elbow, and we hustled out the door. An SUV with a smashed front end and blowing smoke like The Little Engine That Could was cruising down the street and seemed to be looking for a parking space. We ran for the Caddy that Gertie already had fired up and ready to roll. I guess she had spotted them too.
Ida Belle and I didn't complain about her driving as she barreled out of the parking lot onto a side street and nearly T-boned a car driving by. Mostly because we were too busy praying we'd get out of town without a detour back to the police station in the backseat of a squad car. I was certain a second trip wouldn't end as well as our first.
I spent the rest of the afternoon with Ida Belle and Gertie trying to locate Mary Vanderford. The closest we came was a probable relative, but we didn't pursue the lead immediately in case Todd had been successful. He called to report his day had been a bust, so I gave him an update on our progress and told him we were making headway locating the final woman on our list.
"Well, it looks like we're going down to the wire on this one," he said with a sigh. "I only hope we find her before the competition does."
***
THAT EVENING I SAT by Carter on my couch and rested my head against his shoulder while we watched a movie.
"It sounds like you had an adventurous day," he said, reaching up to play with a strand of my hair.
I bit my tongue because I'd given him an edited version. I smiled and nodded. "You have no idea." His green eyes mesmerized me, and I forgot about the day and the stupid action movie playing in the background when he moved closer. His lips hovered just above mine, and I sighed in anticipation.
Ding-dong.
Our eyes shifted to the front door, hoping whoever was standing outside with the world's worst timing would go away. It grew quiet, and he gave me a lazy smile as I watched him inch closer once more.
Knock, knock. "Fortune, are you in there? I saw the TV was on and decided to take you up on that video. And I brought the rest of the brownies."
"You invited Gertie?" Carter asked. As disappointed as I was, I tried not to giggle at the expression on his face. I failed.
"I can explain," I assured him while Gertie pounded again.
He got to his feet and pulled me up. "You owe me more than an explanation," he said.
"Right. Your raincheck also includes brownies," I joked. He left me breathless with a fast kiss that made me want to send my good friend Gertie packing. Then he headed to the back door to avoid her, and I followed him for one more bone-melting kiss. "I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you," I promised.
"I'll hold you to that," he grinned, twisting the doorknob.
The door burst open, and Gertie nearly fell into the kitchen. "When you didn't answer I thought maybe you couldn't hear me so I came around the back." She smiled at Carter and waved the brownie pan. "I came to watch the exercise video with Fortune."
He scratched his neck and sent me a mocking smirk after examining the dessert. "Exercising self-control?"
I wrinkled my nose and pushed him out the door while Gertie asked, "So how's the new workout?"
"Non-existent," Carter mumbled as I closed the door.
"Did I interrupt something?" she asked.
I smiled and turned to face her. "Nothing that can't be fixed with a pan of brownies," I replied. Well, almost.