When Did We Lose Harriet? Part 8

"Let's go," Josheba commanded, getting into her car and putting down all the windows. "It's so humid I feel like we're breathing clouds."

Before I got in the car too, however, I just had to ask once more. "Kateisha, are you sure you don't have any idea where Harriet could be?"

Kateisha stuck out her lip and grew sullen. "I don't know and I don't care. I ain't studyin' Harriet. She ain't my fr'en' anymore. Like I said this mornin', Harriet ain't come *round here since school let out, and I don't carer!" She swung off down the street with her nose in the air and her whale spout bobbing. At the corner, she turned and yelled, "Maybe Miz Scott has seen her. You could ast her." She turned the corner before we could ask who she meant.

"I'll catch her with the car," Josheba said, starting the engine. Just then I saw something red turn into our street from an intersection two blocks away. I gasped and pointed. "That looks like Jake's car! Can you catch it?"

"I can try." Josheba's Honda spurted ahead. As we got closer, I saw an Auburn sticker in the right place. I also saw somebody in the backseat look back, then lean forward. At the next corner, the Buick turned right on two wheels.

"Follow them!" I cried.

"Hold on!" Josheba wrenched her wheel to the right, and I hung onto her side door for dear life.

We followed for several blocks, faster than I would ever have dared drive in that neighborhood. Small children on tricycles and women on sidewalks pa.s.sed in a blur. But the other driver knew his way better than Josheba. We never got close enough to see the driver, and wound up at a corner with several choices of streets and no sign of the Buick.

"You did a great job of trying to catch them," I told Josheba.

She was breathing hard and shaking so much she had to drop her hands from the wheel to her lap. "Mac, what would we have done with them if I had?"

"I don't know," I admitted, ashamed. I hadn't thought that far. Once again, I'd acted impulsively without thinking of the consequences-which was what had gotten me in this whole mess in the first place. "You really are nice to put up with me," I told her ruefully.

"Well, one thing about being around you, Mac," Josheba said as she put the car back into gear. "Life is never dull. What're you planning to do next?"

"Give the acting school a call as soon as I get home," I planned as I spoke, "then if they don't know anything, maybe after Jake's surgery I'll try to talk with Eunice Crawley, Harriet's mother's sister. If she doesn't know anything, I'll ask Lewis to find out from Kateisha who this Mrs. Scott is."

"Tell me, Mac, why are you going to all this trouble for a girl you don't even know?"

"Well, I'd like to think it's because of the Bible story about a lost sheep-"

Josheba raised one hand to stop me. "Don't give me Bible stories. My daddy was a preacher, of the twice-on-Sunday-and-once-in-the-middle-of-the-week variety. I had enough Bible stories growing up to last a lifetime. Never did him or me a bit of good. Killed him, and turned me off religion for life. The way I see it, you are either a very nice lady, or you're just plain nosy. That's all there is to it."

"Just plain nosy, then," I admitted, "and so dad-blamed sure I can finish things up if I talk to just one more person."

When we pulled into Glenna's driveway, I asked automatically, "Will you come in?"

Josheba shook her head. "I've got a big paper due tomorrow, so I'm heading for the library."

"Hot date?" I teased.

She laughed. "Lewis Henly thinks he's G.o.d's gift to women. I couldn't let him believe he's the only one with a social life. But don't you tell Morse. He'd flat-out kill me."

I started to get out, then paused. "Can you imagine a single reason why Harriet should have left all that money behind, Josheba? I am increasingly worried about that child."

"You and me both," Josheba said soberly, "but it looks like we're the only ones."

Eleven.

As a north wind brings rain,

so a sly tongue brings angry looks.

Proverbs 25:23.

I'd written down the intersection where we'd lost the car, and Josheba had doubled back so I could jot down where we'd first seen it. The minute I got inside Glenna's house, I called the police.

I'd been pretty rattled that morning, but normally I'm on easy terms with police officers. Joe Riddley has a constant stream of them coming to swear out warrants in the office we share, and if he's tied up on the phone or with a customer, I chat with them and offer them a cup of coffee. I talk to them the way I do my own boys.

Having probably seen Jake's car, therefore, I wasn't shy about ordering the Montgomery police, "Find it. It's in that neighborhood somewhere. Look for a young man with hair like a crow's nest driving a car too big for him, and do it fast. My brother's in the hospital with a heart attack, and I want his car back before he gets home."

Talking big made me feel like I'd done something, even if I knew I really hadn't.

Next I tried the acting school in Atlanta, but they had closed for the night. Finally I could, in good conscience, get that shower I'd been wanting for hours. I can't remember any other that ever felt so good.

Everything I'd taken to Albuquerque was too dressy for hospital visits. "As soon as Jake gets his surgery," I promised myself, "I'll go to the mall and pick up a few things."

What will you use for money?

The question-as clear as if somebody had said it out loud-took my breath away. I'd never before understood what it meant to be dest.i.tute. I couldn't buy a dress, a meal, or a ticket home without asking for help. How on earth was Harriet paying for food and necessities, if she'd left her money behind?

At least I had Glenna and Joe Riddley. I even had Harriet's three thousand dollars-although I hoped I'd never stoop low enough to use it. "Poor little rich girl," I chided myself, "stop feeling sorry for yourself and put on your navy linen dress. Without the pearls it ought to look all right for tonight."

Without the pearls I looked like I was ready for a funeral. With them, I looked like I was ready for church. Neither was likely to cheer Jake up very much. I sank into the chair again, defeated. "Never again," I vowed angrily, "will I ever leave home without at least one cotton skirt and blouse in my suitcase."

Just then the phone rang. "Well, Little Bit," Joe Riddley began without preamble, "I've canceled all the durn credit cards, but don't you ever go expecting to get another."

"Don't you dare talk to me like that after the day I've had!" I told him fiercely.

"Jake worse?" he asked, concerned.

"He sure is. He's having a bypa.s.s tomorrow morning." Low-down creature that I am, I let poor Jake take the blame for my whole bad mood. If Joe Riddley knew what else I'd been up to, he'd burn rubber getting to Alabama.

"Do you need me to come?"

We both knew he couldn't really come. Not with our big summer sale going on. "Remember what happened the last time you let Ridd and Walker run a sale?"

He snorted. "How could I forget? Walker was so cheap he didn't lower prices enough, so we got stuck with a lot of stuff we wanted to get rid of, and Ridd got so entranced with our new bedding plants he bought them all for his own yard."

"His yard sure was pretty that year."

"Our profits weren't. Okay, Little Bit, I'll stick around here and keep the home fires burning, but if you need me, I'll come in a minute. You know that." For a second, I was tempted to tell him to hit the road.

"Since you can't come," I told him, "do the next best thing. Wire me some money. I don't have a blessed thing I can wear to the hospital."

"I could overnight you a suitcase," he suggested.

"I can just see what you'd put in it. Send cash instead. I'll run down to Gayfers-"

"With poor old Jake incapacitated, you can't be running all over town shopping."

I hoped he would never find out exactly how much running all over town I'd already been doing-and why. "Just send the money, Joe Riddley. Western Union. I don't want some bank holding it up because it's from out of state."

"Will three-four hundred keep you from running around naked?"

"That would be splendid. I probably won't spend it all."

"Spend what you need-I don't want you shaming your relatives. And get something pretty, you hear me? None of that *I can make do with this' stuff you sometimes pull. But I sure would prefer to send the money to Glenna's account. I hate to think about you carrying around that much cash."

For once, I didn't say a word.

When we hung up, I bawled. I didn't know if I was crying from missing Joe Riddley, from worrying about Jake, from losing the car twice, from being responsible for all that money all day, or from not being able to find Harriet, but I felt a lot better afterwards.

Then I went through Glenna's closet and found a peasant blouse and skirt she'd bought on a missions trip to Guatemala. The skirt had an elastic waist, so although it brushed my toes, it would work if I didn't breathe or eat.

I wasn't very hungry anyway, and I knew Glenna wouldn't be. Quickly I put together a couple of thick sandwiches from fresh beefsteak tomatoes, lettuce, a Vidalia onion I found in the fridge, and slices of Glenna's homemade sourdough bread. I set the table on the sunporch, because the yard glowed in the setting sun.

As we ate, I told Glenna about our trip out to Ricky's. "I'm going to call the acting school tomorrow to see if Harriet's there," I concluded. "If she's not, I'm going to leave this up to Lewis until Jake's home. We've got enough to do just worrying about him." I noticed her empty plate. "Do you want another sandwich?" I asked.

"No, but that reminds me!" Glenna jumped up and went to the kitchen. "I have to feed the sourdough tonight. Tomorrow one of us needs to start the bread."

"Better you than me," I called in to her. "My family still calls any baking I do *Mama's Unique Experiences.'"

She came back with bowls of ice cream. As she sat down, she reached over to pat my hand. "You do other things, Clara. My mother used to talk about divine appointments-places we are put or people we meet that we've been given special responsibility for. I keep thinking maybe Harriet is your divine appointment."

"If so, she missed it. There's plenty for you and me to do right now between the hospital and here. Harriet is other people's problem, and it's time Dee reported her missing-whether William likes it or not. I'm ready to take the money back out there and tell them so."

"You still have the money?" Startled, Glenna looked anxiously around the sunporch as if she thought I'd left it lying around.

"It's safe enough. I stuck it in the bottom drawer of my dresser so I could shower." I didn't add that it had been sending out signals ever since. "I've also been thinking about what Ricky said, about Harriet inheriting from her grandmother. I ought to tell Dee that a part of the inheritance has turned up behind a sofa-and let her have it for safekeeping."

Glenna finished her ice cream and folded her napkin. "Then let's leave right now and stop by there on our way back to the hospital."

In the Sykes's yard, a man was taking plants from a wheelbarrow. Only a red pickup sat in the driveway. "Do you want to come with me?" I asked Glenna.

"No, I'll wait here," she said contentedly, leaving the motor and the air conditioner running. "Tell William I said h.e.l.lo." She was smart. Even though it was nearly dusk, heat settled on my shoulders like an unwanted blanket.

That man sure knew his plants. His gra.s.s was healthy and thick underfoot, and as I got near him, I found myself asking without thinking, "What is that marvelous smell? I'm in the nursery business, but I don't recognize that scent."

When he stood erect, he was not much taller than I-and nowhere nearly as pretty as his wife. His ruddy face was scarred from acne, his red hair was thin, and his eyelashes were a light yellow above bright green eyes. n.o.body would take him for the owner of that big house, either. For gardening, he wore a faded Crimson Tide T-shirt with khaki cutoffs, and dilapidated Top-Siders without socks.

If he was startled by a strange woman coming out of the dusk to ask about his flowers, he didn't show it. "Nicotiana," he told me, reaching across gaillardia and blue fringed daisies to break off a tubular flower with a flared mouth. "Pretty, isn't it-like a trumpet?"

I'd heard of that branch of the tobacco family, but we'd never carried it. Joe Riddley said he didn't think a magistrate ought to peddle tobacco in any form whatsoever. I hadn't realized it smelled so good, either. I held it to my nose and could have stood there smelling it all night.

He broke off another, gave it a sniff, then tossed it away. "Comes in white, purple, and yellow, too, but I like the red best myself."

I took one last smell and dropped my hand. "I was here earlier and didn't smell a thing. I wonder how I could have missed it."

"It's nocturnal. Only sends out scent at night."

So far he had shown no curiosity at all about why I was there. Maybe he had women stopping by all the time to ask about his flowers. With that yard, I could see why.

It was time for this woman, however, to get down to business-and I didn't mean nursery business.

When I explained who I was, he wiped his right hand across his shirt and held it out. "Oh, yeah. Dee said you came by looking for Harriet. Work down at that teen center or something, don't you?"

"I was volunteering down there this morning and found some things of Harriet's."

"Well, I'm real sorry Dee's not here right now. She's following Julie and her girlfriend down to the Gulf. I can't see the point of taking two cars, myself-if Julie smashes up, Dee will either crash or watch it all happen-but she wouldn't let Julie drive alone, and Julie pitched a fit about needing a car down there for the week. I'd guess Dee won't be back until late, but I'm about finished out here. Would you like to come in for a drink or something?" He took a plastic Alabama cup from one corner of the wheelbarrow, and I realized that not all the sweetness on the night air was nicotiana. Bourbon was also making a contribution.

"No, thanks. I just came-" I started to hand him the envelope, but he went right on talking. I guessed he might be a bit lonely.

"I'm sorry Dee isn't here." he repeated, taking a big swig from his cup. "She said she told you Harriet's probably staying with a friend down near the airport."

"But she isn't," I told him firmly.

Now I had his attention. "How do you know?"

"I went out there this afternoon. Ricky hasn't seen her. You need to call the police and report her missing."

"I don't think we're quite ready for that yet." He gave a short laugh that was more like a bark. "Harriet's just a rebellious kid who's taken off for the summer. If she gets into a little trouble, it serves her right after all she's put Dee through. But she's pretty streetwise. I expect she's down at the beach having the time of her life."

"How would she support herself?"

"Oh, Harriet's not lazy. She could get a job all right, and she's a hard worker when she wants to be. She's probably lied about her age and is slinging hamburgers somewhere, or taking orders for pizza." He took another swig from his cup.

It made sense. I wondered why I hadn't thought of that myself.

William gave a hoa.r.s.e whiskey chuckle. "She's sure not taking any back talk, though. Not Harriet." He emptied his cup and thrust his scarred face toward mine. "You may not know this," he confided, "but Harriet's mother took off too, years ago. Dee would kill me for telling you, but who cares? Myrna's no relation of ours. Left poor old Frank holding the baby when Harriet was two, and hared down to New Orleans-where the living is easy and so are the women." He winked.

Because of what Ricky had said, I couldn't help asking, "Have you heard from Myrna recently?"

He stepped back and growled, "What that supposed to mean? Why should I have heard from that s.l.u.t? She means nothing to me."