Part 6 (1/2)
”I was watching for you, and had my foot on the gas in case you couldn't stop. Listen. I had to tell you two things I couldn't say at home. First, Harriet may have gone to live with her mom. My parents pretend Myrna is dead, but I overheard them talking once. I think she's living down in New Orleans-as a prost.i.tute, or something.”
I don't like to let on when children shock me, but Julie caught me by surprise. Her lips flickered in a pleased little smile. ”Also, Mom said you're going down to see Ricky. I know she says she hasn't gone because Daddy won't let her-”
Oho! I thought. The child listens at doors.
She either didn't know she'd given herself away or didn't care. ”-but that's not the real reason. Daddy might be furious, but he usually lets Mama do whatever she wants. The real reason she hasn't gone is, Ricky's scary.”
”What do you mean, scary?”
”He was in juvenile detention once for robbery and a couple of times for selling drugs. You don't really want to go out there. You could get shot.”
Eight.
Counsel and sound judgment
are mine; I have understanding
and power. Proverbs 8:14.
That left me in a perfectly marvelous frame of mind to drive back to the hospital.
I was so upset I made a wrong turn and wound up on Highfield Drive, wherever that is. The name reminded me of one fall when Joe Riddley and I drove around the Scottish Highlands. Their fields were so high, we kept expecting a sheep to roll down and crush us.
From sheep it was a natural progression to that parable about a shepherd with a hundred sheep who lost one. How did it go? Something about leaving ninety-nine to go looking for the one that was lost. I should have known my subconscious was thinking about Harriet all along.
What would happen to that particular sheep, I wondered, if n.o.body went seeking her? At least ninety-nine dreadful things could happen to a fifteen-year-old on the streets.
”Look,” I reminded myself firmly, ”you are here to help Glenna. Until Jake's on the mend, you can't spend your time running around looking for other people's lost children.”
I was right, of course, but something inside me squirmed. ”Okay,” I relented, ”if I get time tomorrow, I'll run out to Ricky's to see if she's there. How long could that take?”
Not being Glenna, I spent fifteen minutes finding a parking place at the hospital, then had to walk quite a distance in the heat. That, coupled with getting lost, nearly running into Julie, and her cheerful news, made me mad as spit by the time I reached the waiting room. ”People ought to have to have licenses to raise children!” I greeted poor Glenna, who was placidly reading an old Reader's Digest and munching a candy bar.
She handed me the last half of her candy. ”You didn't find Harriet?”
I told her the whole story, grateful she's known me long enough not to believe half the nasty things I say about other people when I'm mad. ”I'm glad it's Nora Sykes who's your friend, and not Dee,” I finally told her. ”She seems like the only one with her head on straight. Dee not remembering when Harriet left really gets my goat. Furthermore,” I jerked the damp, wilted envelope from my blouse, ”this thing is driving me crazy.”
”Why don't you pop in to see Jake again, then go deposit the money in my bank account until you find the child?”
That was so utterly Glenna: simple, practical, and exactly what most people would never offer because they'd worry somebody might sue. Glenna never worries about getting sued. She worries about how she can help.
I didn't stay more than a minute with Jake. He was sleeping, his face a horrid gray that made me sick, and his skin warm and too dry. At least by this time tomorrow it would all be over.
One way or another.
I could not bear to think of that, so I touched him lightly, whispered a prayer, and tiptoed out.
Glenna had filled out a deposit slip while I was gone. I went down the hall and stuck it in with the money, which by now was shaped to my body like papier mache.
”I've got another suggestion,” Glenna said when I got back. ”I think you ought to call Mr. Henly at the teen center and explain the whole situation. If somebody has to visit this Ricky, it should be him, not you. We've got enough on our plate with Jake.”
Why hadn't I thought of that? Joe Riddley claims I'm such a good delegator that he spends a good bit of his life pointing me in other people's direction. It would be wonderful if Lewis found Harriet while I was at the hospital. Besides, I had one more thing on my plate than Glenna did. Once Jake got his surgery, he'd start pestering his doctor about coming home. I needed time to prod the police to find his car.
Lewis Henly started apologizing as soon as he heard who I was. ”I'm sorry I didn't get to see you before you left this morning, ma'am. My board treasurer came by unexpectedly and wanted me to go over some figures.” I remembered which figure he'd been going over. ”I want to thank you for organizing the girls, though,” he added. ”The room looks great.”
”Relatively speaking,” I amended.
He chuckled. ”Point well taken. Say, how's Jake?”
”Not good, but he's supposed to have surgery in the morning. I didn't actually call about Jake. I called about one of your girls. Harriet Lawson.”
”Was she around this morning? I didn't see her.”
”No, but you do remember her?”
He must have been doing something else, because he paused for a couple of seconds before he answered. ”Harriet? Of course I remember her. She comes in the center all the time-or did until her grandmother died last spring. After that she moved in with an auntie, and slacked off some. She hasn't been here much this summer at all. What about her?”
I explained about finding Harriet's things, why I'd taken them with me, and what I'd learned at Dee's.
”She's run away again?” Lewis Henly didn't sound the least bit concerned. ”How long has she been gone this time?”
”Her aunt doesn't remember, but it's been about since school was out.”
”That's longer than usual, but I wouldn't worry. Harriet's got a history of running away when things don't go her way. Is that what happened?”
”Apparently so. She had a row with her uncle and stormed out, but she came back a few times in the next week to pick up some things. However, they can't remember exactly when she stopped coming. Have you seen her this past month?”
”No-” He spun the word out like it was searching his memory, then repeated it firmly. ”No, I don't think I have. What did you find of Harriet's?”
I was tired of hiding it. ”Three thousand dollars, in hundred dollar bills.”
He whistled. ”Where on earth did you find that kind of money around here? Even nickels and dimes have a habit of walking.”
”I found it while we were cleaning, tucked in a library book behind the hideabed. When I returned the book, it was Harriet's, so I a.s.sume the money must be hers, too.”
His voice rose in disbelief. ”Where would she get three thousand dollars?”
”I don't know, but there it was. At first I thought the book might have slipped down accidentally while she was sitting on the couch, but I did a little experiment before I left, and I don't think that's possible. The sofa's pretty tight at the back, and the cus.h.i.+ons are so sprung that a book would slide forward, not back. Harriet must have deliberately shoved it down there for safekeeping. I just can't imagine why she hasn't come back for it.”
He laughed. ”Ma'am, if you figure out why these kids do half the things they do, you let me know. If it was as hard to get to as you say, maybe Harriet's decided our sofa is safer than a bank. I'm not half as worried about why she hasn't come back for it as I am about where she got it.”