I charged up and down aisles, and next thing I knew my cart was full of everything from toilet paper to deli meats. Then I got out a map and the address Pleasants had given to me. His mother was not too far off the main route, and when I arrived she was asleep.
‘Oh dear,’ I said from the porch. ‘I didn’t mean to get you up.’
‘Who is it?’ She peered blindly into the night as she unhooked the door.
‘Dr Kay Scarpetta. You have no reason . . .’
‘ What kind of doctor?’
Mrs Pleasants was wizened and stooped, her face wrinkled like crepe paper. Long gray hair floated like gossamer, and I thought of the landfill and the old woman deadoc had killed.
‘You can come on in.’ She shoved open the door and looked frightened. ‘Is Keith all right? Nothing happened to him, did it?’
‘I saw him earlier, and he’s fine,’ I assured her. ‘I brought groceries.’ I had the bags in my hands.
‘That boy.’ She shook her head, motioning me into her small, tidy home. ‘What would I do? You know, he’s all I’ve got in this world. When he was born I said, “Keith, it’s just you.”‘
She was scared and upset and didn’t want me to know.
‘Do you know where he is?’ I gently said.
We entered her kitchen with its old, squat refrigerator and gas stove, and she did not answer me. She started putting groceries away, fumbling with cans and dropping celery and carrots to the floor.
‘Here. Let me help,’ I tried.
‘He didn’t do anything wrong.’ She began to cry. ‘I know he didn’t. And that policeman won’t leave him be, always coming over, banging on the door.’
She stood in the middle of her kitchen, wiping her face with her hands.
‘Keith says you like chocolate milk, and I’m going to make you one. It’s just what the doctor ordered.’
I fetched a glass and a spoon from the drain board.
‘He’ll be home tomorrow,’ I said. ‘And I don’t imagine you’ll be hearing from Investigator Ring anymore.’
She stared at me as if I were a miracle.
‘I just wanted to make sure you have everything you need until your son gets here,’ I said, handing her the glass of chocolate milk mixed medium dark.
‘I’m just trying to figure out who you are,’ she finally said. ‘This is mighty good. Nothing in life any better.’ She sipped and smiled and took her time.
I briefly explained how I knew Keith and what I did professionally, but she did not understand. She assumed I was sweet on him and issued medical licenses for a living. On my way home, I played CDs loudly to keep me awake as I drove through thick darkness, where for long stretches there was not a single light except stars. I reached for the phone.
Wingo’s mother answered and told me he was sick in bed. But she got him on the line.
‘Wingo, I’m worried about you,’ I said with feeling.
‘I feel terrible.’ He sounded like it. ‘I guess you can’t do anything for the flu.’
‘You’re immunosuppressed. When I talked to Dr Riley last, your CD4 cell count was not good.’ I wanted him to face reality. ‘Describe your symptoms to me.’
‘My head’s killing me, my neck and back are killing me. Last time my temperature was taken it was a hundred and four. I’m so thirsty all the time.’
Everything he said was setting off alarms in my head, for the symptoms also described the early stages of smallpox. But if his exposure was the torso, I was surprised he hadn’t gotten sick before now, especially in light of his compromised condition.
‘You haven’t touched one of those sprays we got at the office,’ I said.
‘What sprays?’
‘The Vita facial sprays.’
He was clueless, and then I remembered that he was out of the office much of today. I explained what had happened.
‘Oh my God,’ he said suddenly, as fear shot through both of us. ‘One came in the mail. Mom had it on the kitchen counter.’
‘When?’ I said in alarm.