Marcia Talley - A Quiet Death

My jaw dropped. ‘What do you mean you can’t locate him? He’s at Kernan Hospital up in Baltimore. As you probably know, he was gravely injured in the accident. He’s in rehab.’

Hughes exchanged glances with his partner. ‘Was. Mr Aupry was discharged from Kernan two days ago.’

I sat silent for a moment, stunned. ‘Have you talked to his mother? Checked where he works? His mother told me he’s got some sort of research position at the Johns Hopkins Applied Physics Lab in Laurel.’

‘We haven’t talked to her yet, but we will.’

Corporal Sherry Miller folded her notebook, but before she could stuff it into her pocket, she asked, ‘Is there anything else you think we need to know?’

James Hoffner is a lying, murdering son of a bitch ? But I bit my tongue. ‘I’m not sure whether it’s related or not, but we had a break-in several weeks ago.’

Hughes glanced quickly at Miller – be sure to write that down – then back at me. ‘Did you report it to the police?’

I nodded. ‘Nothing seems to have been taken, though. Whoever it was could have been looking for the letters. Hard to say. The police dusted for prints.’ I shrugged.

‘We’ll check with them.’ Hughes stood and extended his hand. ‘Thank you, Mrs Ives. You’ve been very helpful.’

‘Promise me you will find the person who did this to Meredith,’ I said as I shook his hand. ‘She was a lovely young woman.’

‘We’re working flat out on that, Mrs Ives.’ Corporal Miller started toward the door, paused and turned. ‘You can be sure of that.’

‘Detective Hughes?’ I asked as I opened the door to see them out. ‘Have you ever played football for the Redskins?’

His laugh started somewhere deep in his chest and rumbled out of his mouth like a runaway locomotive. ‘I get that a lot.’

Not long after Hughes and Miller left, something struck me like a knife though the heart. The picture Hughes showed me of Nicholas Aupry. It wasn’t taken at the Library of Congress at all. In that picture, Nick was waiting near a reception desk, and hanging on the wall behind him was the distinctive red, white and blue logo of the Lynx News Network.

I telephoned Lilith right away.

‘Hannah, how good to hear from you.’

I didn’t shilly-shally around. ‘Lilith, is Nick with you?’

‘No, he isn’t. Why do you ask?’

If I mentioned the police it might alarm her, so I said, ‘I just called Kernan and they say he’s been discharged! I found that so hard to believe that I made them check the patient inventory again. How can he have gone home so soon? The last time I saw him he was flat on his back with stainless steel rods screwed into his skull.’

Lilith spoke lightly. ‘He made a lot of progress since the last time you visited, Hannah. When I was there last week, he had a brace on his leg, but was using a walker.’

‘Do you have a cell phone number for him. I’m assuming he got a new one?’

‘Nick gave it to me, Hannah. It’s around here somewhere.’

Great, I thought. They’ll uncover it in the next century when they dig down to the Mesozoic level. ‘Do you know where he went? I’d like to send him a card,’ I said, making it up as I went along.

‘I don’t know his mailing address. He’d just started at Hopkins before the accident and hadn’t found a place to live yet, so he was living in a motel while a realtor helped him find a condo. The lab’s been incredibly understanding. They’re holding the job for him until he gets back on his feet. Wait a minute!’ I heard papers rustling. ‘I knew it was here somewhere. Before the accident, Nick was staying at a Night and Day Suites, near Laurel.

‘Where on earth have they discharged him to, Hannah? I wish he’d told me!’ she rattled on, almost without taking a breath. ‘But then, we haven’t been close for years. I’m trying, I really am, but after all the baggage that we both bring into the relationship, it’s unrealistic to expect changes overnight.’ Lilith paused for air, then asked, ‘Do you want me to go to Kernan and see what I can find out?’

‘No, no, I’ll be happy to do it. I’m a hundred miles closer than you are, Lilith. Try to relax. I’ll let you know when I find out anything.’

‘Thanks, Hannah.’ Her voice faltered. ‘You’re the first real friend I’ve had in… well, just thanks.’

After that unsolicited endorsement, I got a little misty-eyed, too.

Two minutes after saying goodbye to Lilith, I telephoned Kernan Hospital and asked to speak to Nicholas Aupry.

‘I’m sorry, he’s no longer a patient here,’ the operator informed me.

‘Oh my gosh! I’m his aunt, and I was planning to send him this big box of chocolates, his favorites, dark chocolate with caramel. I can’t believe he left the hospital without telling me. Can you tell me his forwarding address?’

I figured the woman wouldn’t be a pushover, and I was right. ‘Sorry, dear. Even if I had it, which I don’t, I couldn’t give it out to you. Patient confidentiality. I’m sure you understand.’

I lowered my voice, spoke softly and slowly, adding a snuffly sniffle in the middle of the sentence for effect. ‘Sure. I understand. I understand completely. I’ve tried him on his cell, too, but he doesn’t pick up. Frankly, I’m worried. Nick isn’t in the best of shape.’

The woman on the other end of the line brightened, her next words sounding positively chipper. ‘You shouldn’t worry about that for a minute. Your nephew is listed as an outpatient now. He’s due here for physical therapy at three thirty this afternoon. Why don’t you come and wait for him here?’

I clucked my tongue. ‘You are kidding me! I go away for a couple of days… Men! They never tell you anything, do they? He probably thinks he can manage all by himself, but you know what that means. Living on Hungry Jack frozen entrées delivered by Pea Pod or something. I am going to make him the biggest lasagne…’ And I hung up.

I left Annapolis in plenty of time to arrive at Kernan in order to waylay Nick when he appeared for therapy. I sat in a waiting-room chair for a while, thumbing through copies of People magazine, then I paced. Thirty minutes, forty, an hour went by. Still no Nick.

The volunteer watch changed at four o’clock, and I was elated when the same woman who had been on duty the first time I visited the hospital strolled out from a staff area and took a seat behind the desk. I waited until she got settled, then approached her. ‘Hi. Remember me?’ I flapped my hand in an ‘aw shucks’ way and laughed. ‘Oh, of course you don’t. You see hundreds of people every day. I’m Nicholas Aupry’s aunt. He was supposed to come in for his physical therapy session today.’ I tapped the face on my watch. ‘But he’s over an hour late! Did he call or anything? I’m kinda worried.’

‘Sorry, honey. We don’t have that kind of information.’

In spite of how I felt about Hoffner, over the past several months he had been the closest thing Nick had to a friend and confidant. Grinding my teeth with distaste, I dialed 1-800-GOTALAW, but it rang once and went over to voicemail, making me wonder if the man had any partners at all. Where the heck was Smith? Where was Gallagher? Where was the receptionist, for that matter? The same smarmy syrupy voice that made my skin crawl came on the line. ‘Got a phone? Got a Lawyer! This is James Hoffner and I’m not available to take your call right now. But your call is important to me, so stay on the line and leave your message at the beep. And remember: Got a phone? Got a Lawyer!’

‘This is Hannah Ives,’ I told his machine. ‘You’ve got my number. Call me.’