Since I had chronically interrupted sleep patterns these days, I had done a number of strange things, like put the peanut butter in the refrigerator. Maybe I had had a brain fart and mistaken Robin’s keys for my own. Repressing a sigh, I prepared for this major operation.
My outsize bag was sure to have all kinds of crumbs and lint inside. (I don’t put food in my purse, but there are always crumbs, just another mystery in my life.) I spread a sheet of newspaper on the island, and turned my purse upside down. A shower of debris rained down on the newspaper: loose change, old tissues, shopping lists, grocery receipts, a credit card case, a billfold, a change purse. Lipstick, ChapStick, a compact. An ancient mint. Two pens. A case containing my dark glasses (bright blue frame). Crumbs, of course.
And Virginia’s telephone.
Chapter Sixteen
Robin and I stood on opposite sides of the island, staring down at the pile of detritus crowned with a bright turquoise telephone decorated with rhinestones.
“You got a new phone?” Robin said. He looked at it askance.
“That’s not mine,” I said.
Phillip came in the front door at just that moment. “Hey, when’s supper?” he asked, surprised at the absence of any visible preparation.
When I didn’t answer, he came over to see what we were staring at.
“Where’d you get Virginia’s phone?” He cocked his head, waiting for my (no doubt) simple explanation.
I shook my head. “I have no idea.” We three regarded the bright phone as if it had been a snake. After a moment, I said, “I guess I’d better take it to the law enforcement complex. I can put it in a plastic bag or something. I am just … tired of having people come in and out of this house.” I didn’t add especially Levon. I felt guilty—he was doing his job—but that was how I felt right now.
“This puts the theft of your diaper bag in a whole different light,” Robin said, thoughtfully.
“Wait, what?” Of course I’d told Phillip about being in the parking lot of the hospital, but the regaining of a diaper bag had seemed like a small item in the bigger picture.
“Why don’t I take the telephone there?” Robin said. “You’ve already started supper. You can brief me, if you want to. But I figure you’d rather not go. And Sophie is going to wake up sooner or later, and she’ll want her mom.”
“Well, she’ll want my boobs, anyway,” I said absently. I looked up at my husband. He was letting me know he might not return for a while, but he was willing.
The relief I felt when he offered told me I should take him up on it.
“Hey, should I go, too?” Phillip was smart enough to pick up the subtext. “And should we check out the phone before we take it in?”
Clearly, that would be very wrong, but I confess I felt a moment of temptation. I suppressed it nobly. “We can’t,” I said. “That’s a police thing. Robin, do you want Phillip with you?”
“Thanks, Phillip, but if—if they decide I need to stay there for some long interview—Roe will need you to help her, and you couldn’t do anything but sit in the waiting room at the station, if you came with me.”
“Okay,” Phillip said. “But I’m willing.”
“Noted,” Robin said. “Thanks. I’ll just bag it up and take it to SPACOLEC.” I handed him a plastic bag from a kitchen drawer. I found a set of tongs, and with careful precision I lowered the phone into the bag. Probably ridiculous to take such precautions after Virginia’s phone had been bouncing around in my purse, but we had to try.
“Oh, wait!” I’d had a thought. I was not a mystery reader for nothing. “Don’t they use paper bags now? Or…?”
Robin said, “They bag people’s hands. But I don’t know about telephones. It’s already in there. Let’s go with it.”
“Fine with me.”
It wasn’t far to the law enforcement complex, but I didn’t know how many people he’d have to talk to.
Before Robin could return, I had a call from Levon. He had a list of questions, of course. He opened with, “How did you get the phone? Why was it in your purse?”
“I have no idea,” and “I don’t know,” didn’t satisfy him.
“What’s your best guess, Roe?” Levon was clearly exasperated.
Robin came in the garage door. I pantomimed whom I was talking to. He shook his head, rolled his eyes, and pointed to the chicken. In return, I pointed to the bowls of melted butter and mixed Parmesan cheese and breadcrumbs. The oven had preheated.
“My best guess,” I said, aware my voice was weary and limp. I was ambling around the room as I talked, and I passed by the mirror near the front door. I rolled my eyes at my reflection; “death warmed over” was an apt description. I resolved to avoid mirrors for a while. “I always put my purse in the same place on the kitchen counter. I don’t remember exactly what kind of purse Virginia carried, but the first time she worked here, she stowed her bag right there beside mine, I remember that. I almost picked up hers by mistake once.”
“So do you think she popped her phone into your purse to draw it to our attention? Or did she believe she was putting her phone into her own bag?”
“You asked me to guess. That’s all I’ve got.” I hung up.
I’d always been a friend of law enforcement, even though I’d met police who hadn’t liked me one bit. Anyone working in this field had a dangerous and demanding job. Just at the moment, I was frustrated and angry, convinced Levon wasn’t really listening to me. “Aaaaargh,” I said out loud. Nothing I could do about it now. Time to pull my socks up.
Robin had coated the chicken and put it in the oven, bless him. I assembled a green salad. Then I chopped up fruit, and I preheated the lower oven for garlic bread. Dinner was on its way to being ready. The pasta and sauce (from a jar, sadly) could be left until the last minute.
This was the quickest I had moved in a week. I felt virtuous and efficient. I also felt tired—but I was better, physically. A couple more nights of regular sleep, and I’d be back on my feet. Since I’d done all the prep work I could do for the moment, I sank down on the couch and picked up my book, wriggling into a comfortable position.
I registered nothing more until I woke as Sophie was just beginning to complain. I shook my head, trying to clear it.
“Roe, you want me to get her?” Phillip called, in no very happy voice, and I saw Robin was hurrying down the hall from his office.
“If you’ll change her diaper, I’ll be there in a minute,” I said. I stumbled into the kitchen to peek at the chicken, took it out of the oven, turned up the heat on the pasta pot, drank a large glass of water, and went to the baby’s room. Robin was jiggling her and walking with her. I looked at them from the doorway, marveling again that I had my own family. This seemed incredible to me, still.
“Baby,” I crooned. “Mama’s here.” Sophie knew my presence meant food, and she was anxious for it. I sat in the rocking chair and prepared myself. This is like being on a treadmill, I reflected. But I loved her so much that it was worth it.