Marcia Talley - Sing It to Her Bones

I was thinking how nice it might be to live in a town like this where people go all out for folks they barely know when David approached me with a plastic garbage bag of items retrieved from my car.

I picked out a sodden box of Kleenex with two fingers. Gee, thanks . The bag also contained a single tennis shoe and an old pair of gym shorts that had probably begun moldering long before this most recent dousing. “How embarrassing,” I muttered aloud. I upended the bag and dumped its pathetic contents out onto the grass: a thermos (unbroken), a coffee mug (minus handle), three waterlogged CDs (Placido Domingo), an umbrella, two pens, a snow scraper, and the car’s owner’s manual.

“Where’s my purse?” I could dry out the money, I thought, and my credit card should be okay. I turned the bag upside down and shook it.

“Sorry, Mrs. Ives. It wasn’t in the vehicle.”

I was short on patience. “It has to be! Look again!”

David regarded me with steady, unblinking eyes and shook his head.

I covered my eyes with my hands. I was certain that the only copy of Katie’s medical record lay somewhere-along with my checkbook, credit cards, and pictures of Paul and Emily-at the bottom of the Baxter’s pond. If Dr. Chase had destroyed Katie’s file, as Liz had ordered, without that photocopy, it was just my word and Angie’s against everyone else’s.

In the wee hours, when dreams are hard tocome by and good sense sometimes prevails, I made my decision. If the good citizens of Pearson’s Corner wanted me gone badly enough to kill me, I would leave. My narrow escape from the pond had left me weak and shaking. As mad as I was with Paul, I didn’t want to spend another day in Pearson’s Corner if it meant sleeping with one eye open or flinching every time another car tried to pass me on the road. In the morning I would call Paul and ask him to meet me at the Provincetown Airport, if only I could remember where I had put the scrap of paper on which I’d written his phone number.

In the soft glow from the bathroom night light I could see Connie’s green linen jacket, a tragic canvas of stains and wrinkles, draped over a hanger in the doorway, dripping dry. I thought I had put Paul’s number inside Connie’s jacket, but a frantic middle-of-the-night search of the pockets had yielded nothing.

“You don’t suppose Paul’s phone number was inside my purse?” I said to Connie as we were having breakfast the next morning.

“If it was, you can always look the number up in the phone book. How many Zelcos can there be in North Truro?”

“It’s a rental place, Con. Lord knows whose name the phone is actually listed in.” I sat at the table opposite her and pinched pieces off a slice of dry toast.

“Call the Zelcos in Annapolis,” she suggested. “Maybe someone’s at home who will know.”

“Already did. Got the answering machine.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it then, Hannah. Paul will get the message eventually, and even if he doesn’t, surely he’ll call when he hasn’t heard from you.”

I wasn’t so sure. After our recent telephone conversation he’d know I was still furious with him over that disgusting Jennifer Goodall business.

Connie leaned across the table to fill my empty glass with orange juice from a carton, pausing in mid-pour to examine my face. “Except for that red spot on the bridge of your nose, I’d never guess you’d been in an accident.” She handed me the raisin bran. “So what are you going to do today, now that you’ve more or less snooped yourself out of a job?”

“Go to work, of course. Dr. Chase doesn’t know that I know he knows about my finding Katie’s chart. It’d be suspicious if I didn’t show up at the office today, don’t you think?”

“Brilliant, Hannah. Now I’m convinced you’ve lost your so-called mind.”

“I’m not sure how Dr. Chase got involved in this cover-up, but he seems to be a decent sort of guy. I’m going to ’fess up. Admit I saw the chart. Reason with him about it. I should be able to persuade him to share whatever he knows with Dennis. Dr. Chase works with the police department, don’t forget.” I poured some cereal into my bowl. “If he had anything at all to do with those people who ran me off the road, I figure the best way to protect myself is to let him know that I told Dennis all about it.”

Connie stared at me without speaking, a frown of disapproval clouding her usually cheerful face. Suddenly I remembered that I was without wheels, completely at this woman’s mercy. She read my mind. “And I suppose you’ll be wanting to borrow my car?” I nodded. “Jeez, Hannah. With your track record, how can I be sure it’ll be safe with you?”

“Trust me.”

“Oh, I trust you . It’s the maniacs you seem to attract that I worry about.”

I had to agree. I’d been mulling it over all morning. I must have stepped on someone’s toes. Big time.

I finished my raisin bran, then spread some toast with grape jelly. I had eaten my toast and was licking the crumbs off my fingers before Connie relented. “Okay, you can have the car, but this is absolutely the last time I loan you any clothes. I don’t need to be shopping for a car and a new wardrobe. And, Hannah?”

“Yes?”

“Be careful. I don’t need to be shopping for a new sister-in-law either.”

Dr. Chase stood on the porch watering geraniums when I pulled into his parking lot twenty minutes before Saturday afternoon office hours were scheduled to begin. I was dressed in comfortable black slacks and a pink, short-sleeve knit top, accessorized with a frayed tapestry vest. Instead of black patent leather pumps, I wore a sensible pair of Easy Spirit sandals. On my head was my wig, washed, brushed, and looking ratty. Following yesterday’s dunking, it was barely presentable, but I wore it anyway. I didn’t have a hat that matched my vest.

As I climbed the steps to the front door, the doctor rested his watering can on the porch rail and smiled as if nothing had happened, completely disarming me. Finding Katie’s chart must not have been that big a deal; otherwise he would have been much cooler toward me. Dr. Chase wore his emotions on his face. He didn’t strike me as that good an actor.

“Hey, Hannah. Thought you were Connie for a minute.” Then he noticed I didn’t have my car. “Your car in the shop?”

“So to speak. A tow truck pulled it out of Baxter’s pond this morning.”

His eyes grew wide. “No kidding? How’d it get in there?”

“Haven’t you heard? I thought the news would be all over town by now.”

“Nope. I’ve been holed up here since last night.”

Without going into detail, I told him about the black van that had run me off the road. I watched his face transform from a mask of amusement into one of deep concern. “I was going to make some smart-ass remark about your being accident prone, but this is serious!”

“Dennis is treating it as a hit-and-run, but he’s not optimistic he’ll find the driver.”

“I’m surprised you’ve come to work today. Sure you’re okay? Come inside. Let’s have a look at you.” The way he fussed over me made me miss my mother.

“I’m fine, Doctor. Really. But I would like to talk.”

“Well, of course. Come in, come in.” He set the watering can down on the porch next to a fuchsia plant in full bloom and held the door open for me. I headed directly down the long hallway and turned into his office. Dr. Chase followed and tossed his key ring on the desk. While he got settled, I pulled up a blue upholstered armchair, tried to collect my thoughts, and began to sweat. My anxiety must have showed.

“Sure you’re okay?” He appeared genuinely concerned.