There Was an Old Woman

Chapter Fifty-three


Evie spent the afternoon at the hospital, sitting at her mother’s bedside and quietly free-associating. Talking. Singing. Though she had no idea whether her mother registered a single sound she was making, she rattled on about the new exhibit, about Mrs. Yetner’s incredible story of survival. For some reason that made her think of Disney World. The Haunted Mansion. From there, to the hotel they’d stayed in on a family trip. The only family trip they’d ever taken, though Evie didn’t say that.

“Remember the slide at the pool?” Evie gently pressed the back of her mother’s hand. The skin was mottled, covered with angry purple blotches and as cool as bedsheets. “You slid down on a dare, and when you hit the water, you nearly lost your bathing suit top. And remember how Ginger freaked out when Chip and Dale tried to sit down with us at breakfast in the restaurant? And you’d paid extra for that?” In a squeaky voice, she sang softly, “I’m Chip, I’m Dale. We’re just a couple of cwazy wascals.”

Minutes ticked by as Evie shared more random memories. She sang the lullabies and nursery rhymes she’d learned from her mother before everything at home went sour and boozy. She laughed. She cried. She surprised herself with how many good memories there still were to savor. It was time—past time, really—for her to let go of her anger and give herself permission to be her mother’s daughter without being afraid that she was going to turn into her.

“I love you, Ma,” she said.

But her mother just lay there, mouth open, each breath rattling in her throat. The numbers monitoring her vital signs didn’t go up and they didn’t go down. They just stayed stuck in place, and Evie felt the same way.

She was thoroughly drained by the time she caught the bus to Higgs Point. It was nearly dark, and Evie leaned her head against the bus window, feeling caught in a kind of limbo as familiar landmarks floated past. How many more times would she have to make this trip past that street corner, sit at this red light? When her mother died and the estate was settled, there’d be no reason to return.

As she walked from the bus stop, she realized she’d actually miss the neighborhood. Not so much sleeping on a mattress in the middle of her mother’s still rank-smelling living room, but there was something special about Higgs Point. Where else in New York City was there both a saltwater marsh and a view of the Empire State Building?

Sparkles already had its outside lights on when Evie got there. She paused at the window to catch a glimpse of Finn, standing at the register and talking on the phone. She didn’t go in. She wanted to get to Mrs. Yetner’s before dark and tell her how excited everyone was about making her story part of the exhibit. Plus Finn had promised her dinner—she didn’t want to keep showing up and make him think she was overeager.

Brian’s Mercedes was parked on the street in front of Mrs. Yetner’s house. The pile of lumber in the driveway had grown. Evie rang the bell. Almost immediately Brian opened the door. Before Evie could say anything, he said, “She’s not feeling up to visitors.”

“Is she all right? Can I do anything?”

“Let her rest. I’m afraid she’s weaker than we expected her to be.”

Evie heard a cat meowing. “I brought her an invitation to a gala where she’d be the featured guest. I could just pop in and deliver—”

“I can take that for her.”

Brian reached for the card, but Evie held it back. “Thanks. I’d like to deliver it personally. It might even cheer her up.”

“Well, now is not a good time. I said she’s resting.”

“I’ll come back.”

“You do that.” Brian was closing the door when Ivory squirmed out through the opening and streaked across the lawn and around to the back of the house. Without thinking, Evie dropped her bag and took off after her, arriving just in time to see the cat slip under her mother’s back porch.

Evie turned around, expecting to see Brian chasing the cat, too. But it seemed Evie was on her own with this particular rescue mission. She crouched and peered under the porch. It was so dark she couldn’t see anything.

“Here, kitty,” she said. She made some kissing sounds. “Come out now.” Kiss kiss kiss.

After a few minutes of that, it was clear that Ivory was determined to stay hidden. So much for Mrs. Yetner’s claim that Ivory wouldn’t know what to do with herself outside. What Evie needed was something nice and smelly to lure her—like one of those empty cans of cat food she’d collected from her mother’s kitchen. Plenty of them had what a cat might consider tasty bits still stuck to them. She’d thrown those cans into one of the already full garbage bags, so she could probably retrieve a few without too much digging around.

But which one were they in? she wondered as she stood contemplating the five bags of garbage she’d forgotten to put out at the curb for garbage pickup. Even closed they exuded a nasty smell.

Eenie, meenie, miney . . . She took a breath, held it, and opened Mo. It was a lucky guess. There, on top, were some of those cans. Most of them were surprisingly clean, and she had to pick through to find one with a few crusty clumps stuck to the bottom. She carried it over to the edge of the porch and set it on the ground. As she stood waiting for Ivory to come investigate, the last glow of amber and pink sunset disappeared from the sky. It really was beautiful out here. Why had Evie never appreciated it when she was growing up?

At last the cat poked her nose out from under the porch and slunk forward. Evie crouched. Nudged the can a little closer to the cat. Waited until the cat had sniffed, sniffed again, and finally settled, licking at the inside of the can before Evie grabbed her.

Ivory squirmed and tried to wriggle free as Evie carried her around to the front of Mrs. Yetner’s house. At Evie’s knock, Brian opened the door again. He took the cat from her arms with a grudging thank-you and closed the door.

Evie went to throw away the can and close up the garbage bag. This time, she’d drag all five of them to the curb. But as she was tossing the can into the open bag, she noticed a familiar-looking jar with a green-and-white label right on top. She lifted it out. NaturaPharm. Vitamin C. She shook the container. Pills rattled inside.

Trying not to inhale, Evie dug around until she found a second NaturaPharm container. Vitamin B1. The rest of her mother’s cache of vitamin pills that had disappeared from her medicine cabinet after the break-in were probably in the bag, too, but Evie wasn’t about to scrounge around for them. But what were they doing in there? Who had taken them from the medicine cabinet, and why take them and then throw them away?

Evie took the two containers inside and set them on the kitchen counter. She opened the vitamin C. Shook out a large white oval tablet into the palm of her hand. One side was scored for easy breaking. Imprinted on the other side was the code L484.

She opened the container of B1 vitamins. The pills inside were the same size. Same shape. Same L484.

It took Evie just a moment to Google the number on her phone. L484 was the pharmaceutical industry’s code for acetaminophen.

Moments later, Evie had dug from her purse the card from the police officer investigating the earlier break-in. Sergeant Bruce Corday. He’d said to call if she discovered anything else, and now she most definitely had.

When he called her back an hour later, he listened. Said he’d come to the house first thing in the morning, and that he’d be bringing a detective with him.