The grandfather clock in the hall chimed six times.
“Maybe she forgot the time,” Ibby offered. “She could just be late. You know how she gets sometimes when she drives around in that car.”
“Miss Fannie, she left the house early this afternoon. She never goes out for more than an hour or two,” Queenie said. “We kept waiting around, thinking she’d be back, but she been gone a good five hours now.”
“Besides,” Doll added, “she knows you come around for supper about this time. She’d never miss that.”
“Do you know where she went?” Ibby asked.
“She never tells us. But I know sometimes she goes out to visit the family in the cemetery,” Doll said.
“What do you want me to do, drive around and look for her?” Ibby asked.
Queenie heaved up her chest. “Yes, Miss Ibby. That might be a good idea.”
“All right then, I’ll go out to the cemetery, see if she’s there.”
“Come on, Mama. Let’s get back to the kitchen.” Doll took her mother’s arm. “Maybe she show up soon, then you can quit your worrying.”
Queenie swatted her arm. “Like you ain’t worried.”
Ibby was sure Fannie would turn up sooner or later, she always did, but by the time she reached the cemetery, the gates were locked for the evening. She drove to the racetrack, to the perfume shop, anywhere she thought Fannie might be, but after an hour she gave up. When she returned to the house, Fannie’s car was still not in the driveway.
Queenie and Doll were both waiting on the front porch this time.
“Well?” Queenie asked.
Ibby shook her head. “She hasn’t called?”
“No, Miss Ibby. Where could she be?” Queenie’s eyes began to well up.
Ibby put her arm around her shoulders. “Let’s go in the kitchen and figure it out.”
They all sat down at the kitchen table.
“Has anyone called the police?” Ibby asked.
“We didn’t want to do nothing until you got back, in case you found her,” Doll said.
“Do you have Commander Kennedy’s phone number?” Ibby asked.
“It’s in that little book Miss Fannie keeps by the telephone.” Doll pointed toward the hall.
Ibby dialed the number. “May I speak to Commander Kennedy?”
“Speaking.”
“Kennedy, this is Ibby Bell.”
“You caught me just as I was leaving. What can I do for you? How is Fannie?”
“Well, actually, that’s why I’m calling. She seems to have gone missing. She left the house this afternoon and hasn’t returned. We’re getting a little worried. You haven’t heard of any accidents or anything, have you?”
“Let me check.” Ibby could hear him scoot away from his desk. He came back on the phone a few minutes later. “I don’t see any that would correlate. Do you want me to file a report?”
Ibby hesitated. “No, I’m sure she’ll turn up. You know how she is.”
“I’ll call if I hear anything.”
Ibby put down the receiver and went back into the kitchen. She sat back down at the table, trying to appear chipper.
“What he say?” Queenie asked.
“He said there weren’t any reports of accidents, but he said he’ll call if he has any news,” she said.
Queenie set a plate in front of Ibby. “Best go on and eat. Getting pert near eight o’clock.”
Ibby picked up a fork and chewed on a piece of okra. “Tell you what. I’ll get my books and study here in case Fannie shows up. Why don’t you all take some supper and go on home? I’ll call if I hear anything.”
Queenie and Doll looked at each other.
Ibby could tell this wasn’t sitting too well with them. “No use everybody sitting around here panicking. Besides, how am I going to study with you two fretting?” she said.
“Miss Ibby’s right. Come on, Mama,” Doll said.
“I’m gone leave Miss Fannie a plate in the oven, case she do come back,” Queenie said.
After they left, Ibby finished her supper, then drove to her apartment to get her books. She half-expected to find Fannie sitting in the dining room smoking a cigarette when she returned. But when she pulled up to the house, it was dark.
Ibby went in and sat at the kitchen table. She opened her textbook, trying to get in a bit more studying, but the house was so quiet it was making her nervous. Every five minutes or so, she’d get up and look out the back window. When it got to be midnight, there was no doubt in her mind that Fannie was in trouble. Sometime during the night, she dozed off on the lumpy couch in the front parlor.
She was awakened by the sound of the back door slamming at six-thirty the next morning. Queenie came into the kitchen grumbling because the oven had been left on all night, the plate of food she’d left for Miss Fannie still in it.
“Like to have burned the whole house down,” Queenie was saying as Ibby came into the kitchen.
“Ain’t a good sign, Mama. Means Miss Fannie ain’t here,” Doll said.
“Morning,” Ibby said groggily.
“You stay up all night, Miss Ibby?”
“Most of it.” Ibby yawned.
“No phone calls?” Queenie asked.