CHAPTER 14
Eighty-year-old Donna Kingsbury talked faster than an auctioneer on speed. And louder, too, although she needed to talk loudly if she wanted to be heard over the television blasting in the other room. Mrs. Kingsbury stood in the middle of the kitchen in her trailer home wearing a flowery muumuu, nylon knee-highs, and slippers. The place smelled like old dishrags and cat pee, which made sense when an orange-and-white cat appeared from the other room and began to weave around her thick ankles, its tail curling around her calves.
Hayley had been listening to her talk for ten minutes nonstop. Her cavernous mouth just kept running like a faucet that couldn’t be turned off.
She couldn’t remember it ever being so difficult to get information out of someone. Adoption searches were usually easy. Hayley could do them with her eyes closed. But getting anything useful out of this crazy lady felt never ending.
The good news was Donna Kingsbury lived in Citrus Heights. At least she hadn’t had to drive too far.
Kitally and Hayley had learned from their short visit with Dan Blatt that he’d been unable to handle all the grief stemming from the death of his first wife and had asked his mother-in-law, now ex-mother-in-law, to take care of his daughter for a few weeks. A few weeks turned into a few months and a few months turned into years. At least, that’s what Mr. Blatt had told them. The man was slime. How could you give away your daughter as if she were a cat or dog and then never look back?
“That child was the devil’s offspring,” the old woman assured her. “I always wondered if Barbara and Dan made a trade with some new-aged gypsies.”
Hayley opened her mouth to speak, but she wasn’t fast enough.
“I don’t have too many good things to say about Dan, either, you understand. That man couldn’t take care of a cactus, let alone his own wife and daughter. My Barbara deserved better. She would probably still be alive if it weren’t for that man taking advantage of her, forcing her to slave over him day and night.
“As Mrs. Kinsbury droned on, Hayley found herself wishing she’d waited for Kitally to return from her morning surveillance, another workers’ comp claimant with an alleged neck injury. Kitally had patience, and she knew how to handle people like Mrs. Kingsbury.
When the old lady finally paused for breath, Hayley jumped in. “Please, Mrs. Kingsbury, I need to know what happened to Debra Blatt.”
“I told you already. I gave her away.”
The words came out so fast, Hayley thought maybe she heard her wrong. “You gave her away?”
“Damn straight,” she said, lifting her chin, daring Hayley to judge her. “She was nothing but trouble.”
Another cat appeared. This one was solid black.
“I had four cats at the time, and she used to pull on their tails. Once she started peeing in the bed, I couldn’t take it any longer.”
“How long did Debra live here with you?”
“Two hellish years. She must have been five or six when I finally called social services and told them they needed to take the girl or I was throwing her out on the street.” The woman snorted. “That did the trick.”
“Do you know where she is now?”
A spider skittered out from under the carpet and onto the linoleum. The woman was fast, though—she jumped on the thing, putting her whole body into killing it with the bottom of her slippered foot. “What do you mean do I know where she is?” She guffawed. “It’s been close to twenty years.”
“You haven’t stayed in touch with your granddaughter?”
“No. Why should I? She wasn’t my blood. I only took her in because Dan promised to pay me, which he never did.”
Having heard enough, Hayley started for the exit.
“She must be close to twenty-five years old now,” the woman shouted after her. “Wait. Did she die and leave me some kind of inheritance? Is that why you’re here?”
Hayley had never been much for words, but it took everything she had not to turn and verbally rip the old hag to shreds.
“That’s it, isn’t it?” the woman screeched after her. “My granddaughter died and she wants to help out her ol’ Grandma.”
Hayley stepped outside without bothering to shut the door behind her. Away from the stench, she inhaled.
“You come back here right now and tell me how much she left me!”
Hayley pulled a tape recorder from her back pocket and pivoted so that she was facing the old woman, who’d skittered after her as far as the doorway. “It’s true,” Hayley told her. “Debra married well. She had millions when she died, but her will specifically states that we can only disperse monies to the people who loved her most.” Hayley smiled and held the recorder in the air for her to see. “I’m so glad we had this talk. I can’t thank you enough for being so frank with me. I’ve got everything the estate attorney needs right here.”
It was a ludicrous lie, but this was a ludicrous, awful old woman. It felt sweet to watch her mouth fall open, and sweeter still to hear no words come out of it.