“Your brother visited your mom on the day he disappeared?” McKenna asked. Fiske nodded. “Then she might be able to tell us something.”
“McKenna, my mom has Alzheimer’s. She thinks John Kennedy is still president.”
“Okay, what about somebody who works there?”
Fiske wrote down an address and phone number on the back of one of his cards. “But leave my mom out of it.”
“You’re going to see her, aren’t you? How come?”
“She’s my mother.” Fiske disappeared out the door.
Hawkins looked over at McKenna. “You ready to leave? Because I want to lock up. Don’t want anybody else coming in here and stealing any more stuff.”
The way Hawkins said it made McKenna blink. The guy couldn’t know that he had taken the gun, could he? Still, he felt guilty about it. But he had bigger things to feel guilty about. Far bigger.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
* * *
Sara was stopped at a red light on her way to Fiske’s office when she saw him drive through the intersection heading west. She didn’t have time even to blow her horn. She thought about flagging him down, but a glimpse of his tense face stopped her. She turned right and followed him.
Thirty minutes later she slowed as Fiske’s car turned into the parking lot of a long-term care facility located in the West End of Richmond. Sara had been here once before, with Michael, to visit his mother. She kept her car hidden behind a broad-leaved evergreen next to the entrance and watched as Fiske stepped out of his car and hurried inside.
Fiske met up with Anne, the woman who had just called him, who apologized again and led him to the visitors’ lounge, where Gladys sat docilely in her pajamas and slippers. When Fiske appeared, she looked up and silently clapped her hands together.
Fiske sat down across from her, and Gladys put out her hands and tenderly touched his face. Her smile broadened, her eyes wide and catching absolutely nothing of reality.
“How’s my Mike? How’s Momma’s baby?”
He gently touched her hands. “I’m fine. Doing good. Pop’s good too,” he lied. “We had a nice visit the other day, didn’t we?”
“Visits are so nice.” She looked behind him and smiled. She often did that. It was hard keeping her attention. She was an infant now, the cycle complete.
She touched his cheek again. “Your daddy was here.”
“When was that?”
She shook her head, “Last year sometime. He got leave. His ship went down. Japs done it.”
“Really? He’s okay, isn’t he?”
She laughed long and loud. “Oh yes, that man is A-okay.” She leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “Mike, honey, can you keep a secret?”
“Sure, Mom,” Fiske said hesitantly.
She looked around, blushing. “I’m pregnant again.”
Fiske took a deep breath. This was a new one. “Really? When did you find out?”
“Now, don’t you worry, sweetie, Momma’s got enough love to go around for all of you.” She pinched his cheek and kissed his forehead.
He squeezed her hand and managed a smile. “We had a good talk the other day, didn’t we?” She nodded absently. This was crazy, he thought, but he was here and he might as well try. “I had a good trip. You remember where I went?”
“You went to school, Mike, just like every day. Your daddy took you on his ship.” She frowned. “You be careful out there. Lot of fighting going on. Your daddy’s out fighting right now.” She punched a fist in the air. “Get ’em, Eddie.”
Fiske sat back and stared at her. “I’ll be careful.” Looking at her was like watching a portrait that was fading daily under unforgiving sunlight. Eventually, he would come to visit and all the paint would be gone, the only image left would come from his memory. And so life goes. “I have to get going. I’m, uh, I’m late for school.”
“So pretty.” She looked past him and waved. “Hello, there.” Fiske turned around and froze as he saw Sara standing there.
“I’m pregnant, honey,” Gladys told her.
“Congratulations,” was all Sara could think to say.
* * *
Fiske stormed down the hallway to the exit, Sara trailing him. He threw open the door so hard it smacked against the wall.