Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
“We’ve got a bite!” I said, opening my phone.
“Jet?” Dante sat up, his voice eager.
“Looks like it.” I opened the dating app. Dante peeked over my shoulder and we read the message together.
Dear Estelle:
I was pleasantly surprised when your message came through. I, too, am looking for a partner in today’s cold, aloof world. I understand loneliness. Your picture is lovely, and I found myself captivated by it. I’m an undercover agent posing as a financial analyst, so I can’t disclose my whereabouts, only that I’m on an important mission for the government. Know that it has to do with national security and involves the president.
I would love to talk to you more. Do you mind switching over to What-The-App, in case I accidentally say something that my supervisors would be angry at me for disclosing? WTA is more secure. Please write back. I have a lonely life and I want to find a woman I can treat like a queen. –Jet
I rolled my eyes. “Every cliché in the book, but then again…they wouldn’t use these lines if they didn’t work.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed. “Damn him. We were right. If he was truly planning on marrying Tilly, he wouldn’t be contacting you.”
I set down my phone. “So many of these scammers try to avoid meeting, so Jet’s an exception. It makes me wonder why.”
Dante thought for a moment. “I don’t know, but there has to be something fishy about it.”
“I’ll write back and tell him I’d love to chat. Maybe…can that website be hacked? Do you think they’d have a way to tell where their clients are located? I’m talking pinpoint it to the house.” My thought was that Carson might be able to hack in and figure out where Jet Shy was.
“I don’t know,” Dante said.
“We’ll get Carson on this—” I stopped as Penn appeared in the doorway. “Hey, find anything?”
“I found a spell for attacking revenants. It’s something I can do, I think.” She yawned. “I feel like my head’s full of ghosts and spirits, after all the research I did today.”
I glanced at the clock. It was now past dinner time and lunch seemed a million miles away. “We should eat dinner,” I said. “I’m tired too. Let’s bag work for the evening and watch a movie over some dinner. What do we have that we can heat up?”
Penn laughed. “I put a frozen lasagna in the oven. It should be ready in about ten minutes. Why don’t you pick out a movie? But, can we avoid a ghost story? I’ll get out plates and silverware. We can eat in front of the TV.
Fifteen minutes later, we were curled up in front of the TV, with an oldie-but-goodie on the screen. As the T-Rex from Jurassic Park bellowed out his roar, we lost ourselves in lasagna, dinosaurs, and the falling snow that drifted past, outside the window.
Morning arrived and I texted Jet back, telling him I’d get What-The-App and let him know when I had it. I did my best to sound excited. Then, I looked outside, cinching my robe tightly around me as I stepped onto the frozen porch.
It had stopped snowing, and everything was covered with a sparkling blanket of white—unmarred except by some animal that had trekked across the front yard. I inhaled a sharp breath, the cold slicing through my lungs. But it smelled clean and clear, and the sky showed patches of blue amidst the silverish clouds that boiled overhead.
As I stood there, looking around, I noticed that my neighbor across the street had several boxes piled on her doorstep, and a few newspapers had piled up. She always took things in promptly. Alarmed, I hurried back inside.
“Hey, Penn, I’m going to dress and go over to check on Terri. She has a bunch of mail piled on her porch.”
“That’s unusual,” Penn said. “I’ll start breakfast while you do that.”
I darted back into my bedroom and quickly slid into jeans and a cowl-necked sweater, then zipped up my boots. Dante was putting on his shoes, after his night on the sofa.
“Hey, come with me, please?” I grabbed my phone and found the spare key to Terri’s house that she had given me. While we weren’t good friends, we considered each other to be good enough neighbors to share keys in case of emergency.
Dante yanked on his jacket and followed me out into the yard. We cautiously made our way through the snow and across the street, to Terri’s place. It was a lovely little house, English-cottage style, with a trellis arching over the front gate. Her gardens were always tended carefully, and she maintained her house as meticulously as she did her yard.
“Terri?” I called, as we headed up on the porch. I rang the bell, growing worried as there was no answer. Her car was in her driveway.
“I’ll go around back,” Dante said, as I prepared to unlock her door.
Pushing open the door, I peeked inside. “Terri?”
I heard a muffled sound, but it seemed to come from a distance. Then, as I stepped inside, Dante’s voice came from around the back of the house.
“Kyann! Call an ambulance.”
I raced through the house and opened the kitchen door, leading out into the backyard. There, Terri was sprawled on the back porch, a plastic tarp over her. Dante was kneeling beside her. Terri was so pale that, at first, I thought she was dead. But she moaned gently as Dante stripped off his jacket and rested it over her.
I dialed 9-1-1 and, as soon as the operator came on, I gave them the address. “We need an ambulance. My neighbor’s on her back porch and I think she’s been out here at least part of the night. She’s unconscious but breathing.”
“We’re on the way. Can you move her inside and find blankets to cover her? If she’s wearing wet clothing, remove it.”
“Yes. I left the front door unlocked, so come in that way.”
Together, Dante and I managed to get her inside and onto the sofa. I scooped up her cat—she had a blind, fat cat named Bubbles, whom she adored, tucked her in the bathroom, and shut the door. As Dante kept watch over Terri, I darted into her bedroom and found a warm nightgown and several blankets. With Dante’s help, we got Terri out of her shirt, which was damp, and her jeans, which were also damp. The moisture had gotten into her clothing and I tossed the clothes to the side. Then, Dante and I slid her nightgown over her head, propped her up so she wasn’t lying flat, and covered her with the blankets.
At that moment, sirens wailed as the medics arrived. Penn appeared in the door before they did.
“I got worried and then I heard the sirens—oh, what happened?” She took one look at Terri and gasped. “Terri—is she okay?”
“I don’t know. We found her on her back porch. She’s unconscious.” I moved out of the way to let the medics get to her, as Dante took one of the young men with him to show him where we found her.
“It’s a good thing you found her when you did,” the medic said, checking her blood pressure. “Any longer and she’d be facing frostbite. At least she appears to have been wearing gloves and shoes that kept her feet dry. I think she’s been out there awhile.” He took her temperature. “Her temperature is ninety-four. It looks like she hit her head when she fell. She’s got a small lump on her skull. Do you happen to know what she was doing?”
“No. Even though the back porch is enclosed, it’s not heated. She keeps a lot of supplies for her plants there, as well as spare cat food and a small pantry and freezer.” I stared at the prone figure. “Will she be okay?”
“I can’t make that determination, but I think she has a good chance. If she lives, it will be because you and your friend found her.” The medic stood, motioning for the gurney. As they lifted her onto it, he turned to me. “Do you know if she has any next of kin?”
I thought about it for a moment. “I think she has a daughter. I’ll try to find her information. Terri’s got a list of emergency numbers somewhere. I’ll also make sure her cat gets fed and taken care of.”
As they trundled her out of the house, Dante stood beside me. Penn had returned to our house, to keep an eye on breakfast.
I turned to Dante. “What did you find?”
“Well, they determined she slipped on a patch of ice. Looks like some water either got spilled or came through the roof or something—it froze. She went out to the porch, slipped, hit her head, and was there at least six or seven hours.”
“I wonder…then why the mail build up?” Then, I remembered something—I’d seen something that caught my eye when I brought her nightgown and blankets to the living room. “Hold on.” I headed back to her bedroom. Sure enough, a suitcase sat near the bed. I unzipped it and saw that it was filled with jumbled clothes. The baggage claim ticket on the handle had been stamped at five PM, yesterday, from SeaTac airport. She’d flown in from Chicago.
“I think I know why the packages were piled up,” I said, returning to the living room. “She just got back from a trip. She was in Chicago. I don’t know whether for a layover, or if that’s where she was visiting.” I asked Dante to bring in all the packages, and the mail, and then I found her purse. Her phone was in it, so I opened it up—she didn’t have a passcode—and I glanced through her Recent contacts.
She’d called a Sara Brinkwater twice yesterday, and there were two unanswered calls from the same number. I opened her voicemail and, sure enough, there was one from Sara last night, and one from this morning.
“Mom, are you okay? I know you were tired when you left, but you didn’t answer my message last night and I’m worried. Call me, please.”
I punched the return call number and, two rings later, a woman answered.
“Mom! I was starting to get worried?—”
“Excuse me, but is this Sara Brinkwater? Are you Terri Stillman’s daughter?” It seemed that a direct approach would be best.
Immediate pause.
Then, “Yes, who am I talking to?”
“My name’s Kyann Sarasan. I’m your mother’s neighbor. Long story short, I found your mother on her back porch this morning, unconscious. She’s being taken to Harbor’s Edge Medical Facility. As far as I know, she has hypothermia, but I’m not a doctor, so I’m not entirely certain. I have their number for you.” I gave her the number.
“You’re sure she’s alive?” Sara sounded in tears. “You must have saved her life. I can’t thank you?—”
“Why don’t you call the hospital and see how she’s doing. I’ll give you my number, too, in case you need to contact me later.” After texting her my number, I hung up and placed Terri’s phone in her purse.
Dante glanced over at me as I entered the kitchen. He was feeding the cat, who was mewing softly. “Did you find any next of kin?”
“Her daughter. She’s flying out to be with Terri.”
Glancing around the kitchen, something struck me. Inside the fridge, there were several single serving containers. A half-gallon of milk. A few veggies, and meats in small containers. Everything pointed to one person living here, with few guests. Her calendar was on the wall, with two appointments written on it, one for returning from a three-day trip to her daughter’s, the other, a doctor’s appointment. Nothing else.
“I wonder…” I stared at the calendar. “Are these her only meetings with other people? If so, does she have an online life? I realize how little I know about her. Is she lonely? Does she have any friends?”
“You’re thinking about my aunt, aren’t you?” Dante wrapped his arm around my shoulders.
“I guess I’m suddenly sensitive as to how many people feel isolated or alone, and we never know it. Terri could have died if we hadn’t noticed the build up of packages. And this is magnified all over the country. You can’t tell me it’s not.” I turned to face him. “We’ve become a nation of isolationists. Some people thrive on that, but there are many who don’t. At least in a nursing home, the elderly have someone to check on them.”
Dante sighed. “Yeah. But even with connections, people will be lonely, or slip on the ice. My great-aunt sees her friends and family on a regular basis. I go to visit a lot. And she’s still searching for love. We can’t save everybody, Kyann.”
I ducked my head. He was right. When I was first on the streets, after my mother died, I’d been alone and frightened. Dante had come along and helped pull me out of a one-way trip toward a very bad end. But I was lucky. If it hadn’t been for him, I probably wouldn’t be here now. But not every young girl had a Dante to save her. And he was right—even though Tilly had lots of family around her, she still felt alone.
“I don’t know what to think,” I said. “I’m just...I guess I feel guilty. Terri’s my neighbor, and I’ve barely said two words to her over the past year. I guess, we try to reach out, pay attention to signs—like her build up of packages—and hope for the best.”
“Sometimes, that’s all you can do,” Dante said. “Come on now, Penn is waiting breakfast for us. Let’s get back to the house.”
As we headed back across the street, the sky clouded over again and a light dusting of flakes began to fall. It wasn’t as thick as yesterday, but I suddenly found myself longing for my green lawn and the rain. They felt warm and cushioning, in a way the snow never did.