Miss Me When I'm Gone

chapter 21



Before I got on the highway ramp, I stopped at a little convenience store called SmartMart and bought a Dr Pepper. I’d been avoiding the stuff for months because of the baby, but tonight I felt I needed a little caffeine for the road. Still parked in the store’s lot, I took a few sips and flipped on the overhead light. I was eager to glance through the papers from Gretchen’s desk at Dorothy’s, just to get a sense of what was there.

There were a few notebooks. Among them, though, was a red plastic folder like Gretchen’s green one that had contained the police report and newspaper articles.

I opened it. Seeing three envelopes with the return address DNA Diagnostics, I gasped and greedily ripped through their contents.

The dates on the three results reports were January 14, February 10, and March 26. The first one had tested Gretchen Waters and Keith Bergeron and said “Probability of Paternity: 0%.” The next one tested Gretchen against a “Sample A” and a “Sample B.” One said “Indeterminate result/Inadequate sample,” the other “Probability of Paternity: 0%.” The final one—the March one—tested Gretchen against two more samples: a “Sample C” and a “Sample D.” Sample C was 0%. Sample D said “Probability of Paternity: 99.999%.”

“Sweet Jesus,” I whispered. She’d figured it out. After five tries. None of her writing—at least what I could find on her computer, or read so far in her notebooks—indicated she’d put in that kind of effort. Nor did anyone around her seem aware of it.

She’d gotten the positive result one week before she died.

I stared into the light of the convenience store. I didn’t want to leave the Emerson area now. I wanted to stay here and figure out who Gretchen’s father was—as Gretchen had.

And then, as if he’d somehow read my mind from a hundred or so miles away, Sam rang me on my cell.

“You on your way, I hope?” he asked.

“Just left Dorothy’s house, actually,” I said.

“What? Jamie, do you know what time it is?”

“Yeah. Um. It’s just that Dorothy’s a real sweet lady, and we got to talking about Gretchen . . .”

“I see. Well, I’m worried about you driving so late. It’ll be after one by the time you get here.”

“I’ll be okay,” I said, still staring at the lab reports.

“Are you sure you shouldn’t get a cheap motel room and come in the morning?”

“Really, it’s not a big deal,” I assured him, although I considered this possibility. If I stayed around here I could chat with a few people in Emerson tomorrow, then take off later. Maybe I could make contact with that Kevin guy, for one.

“Either way, though, Madhat . . .” Sam sighed. “You’ve gotta get here by two tomorrow.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’m driving you to that little tearoom restaurant at two-thirty. That’s where your mom’s having your shower.”

“Oh, man. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Crap.”

“It’s not crap. This isn’t a bad thing. If you don’t feel up to driving tonight, just stay over. I can book a motel from here online, if you want. As long as you leave by ten-thirty or so, you’ll be fine.”

“I’m driving home tonight, Sam. In fact, I’d better get on the road now. Okay?”

“Okay.”

I chugged my Dr Pepper and started my car.