Diana stopped by the Hurst Flower Shop in downtown New Cambridge and asked about the flowers that were delivered to her mother. The clerk, a college student who only added to the endless loop of thoughts in Diana's head concerning Jacqueline Foley and Margie Todd, had no helpful information. She could only say that the flowers were purchased in person, paid for in cash, and no, she hadn't been working the day the order was placed.
"People do that all the time," the girl said. "You know, send flowers anonymously. I've had guys do it for me. Maybe your mom has an admirer?"
"Did you see the address the flowers went to?"
The girl studied the ticket. "Vienna Woods? Is that an apartment complex or something?"
"It's a mental hospital."
"Oh."
On her way to the car, Diana called Jason. She had resisted calling him all morning, hoping that if she stayed out of his way long enough, he would get back to her with some piece of information pertaining to the case, but he never did. And relying on the radio didn't cut it.
The call went to voicemail. She stopped walking to leave the message.
"Okay," Diana said, "I guess you're too busy to talk." She hated the sound of that, like she was a needy girlfriend. "Just call me when you get a chance. I have things to tell you, and I'm sure, I'm hoping, you have things to tell me."
She flipped the phone shut on her way toward the car, which was parked around the corner just off the square. When she turned the corner, she saw someone standing against the side of her Honda, leaning against the vehicle as though they needed the car to support their weight. At first, Diana couldn't make out who it was, and she wondered if it were a homeless person or a bum, someone looking for spare change to buy a fifth of whiskey. But then she recognized the short haircut and ratty shoes, the ever-present cigarette tossed aside as Diana approached.
"Kay?"
"Hi, honey. I saw your car and thought I'd stop."
"You just happened to see my car parked on a side street?"
"I went to a doctor's appointment this morning. The usual bullshit. He said my lungs are congested. I said, 'They're full of cancer, what do you expect?' I've reached the point where things only go one direction. Down."
"I was going to talk to you anyway," Diana said.
"Great. You want to have lunch?"
Diana looked around. "No, I think we need to talk in the car. In private."
"That's fine. I don't eat much anyway."
Diana climbed in and unlocked the passenger door, then waited while Kay made a slow circuit of the car to the other side. It was a cool morning, the sky bright and clear. Kay still wore the ugly windbreaker and the sight of it made Diana feel depressed. It might as well have been the purple flag of pathetic defeat.
When Kay was settled, Diana started.
"Did you send flowers to my mother's hospital room?"
Kay looked to be thinking the question over carefully. "Flowers?"
"Come on, Kay. No bullshit."
"No, I don't think so. I don't even know your mother."
"You don't know me either, but you keep showing up."
"Am I bothering you, honey? Is that it? I can go on my way—"
"Stay," Diana said, her voice firm. Kay's eyes showed a little motherly hurt. "Please. Stay."
"Okay." Kay fiddled with the buttons on her jacket. "Do you mind if I smoke in here?"
"Yes. What did you want to see me for?"
"I guess you've heard the news," she said. "About that poor girl being taken."
Diana felt her anger subside. Until that moment, she hadn't thought of how the story would affect Kay. "I've heard. I just called a friend who's still a cop, but he didn't answer."
"It's remarkable news for us, isn't it?" She seemed almost happy.
"How do you mean?" Diana said.
"Don't you see? Another girl taken right here, just like Margie. If the police find that girl, they might find Margie, and you know they're going to find this girl because she's from a rich family. That's what they're saying on the news anyway."
"Kay." Diana tried not to sound patronizing. "There's no way the two cases are related. It's been twenty-five years. It would be..."
"Foolish to think that?"
"Yes, it would."
"You didn't grow up here, did you?"
"No. And you're the second person today to ask me that."
Kay coughed just a little. She cleared her throat. "I'm not from here either. I moved here when I got married. New Cambridge has always seemed like a strange place. If you don't belong here, if they don't accept you, it can be difficult."
"Small towns are like that."
"It's more than just small town stuff. When I first moved here, I heard the stories of the way this town used to treat women, the way the men moved them around and controlled them like pieces on a chessboard."