Chapter 34
Ivy put her phone on silent and crawled into bed, not expecting sleep to come—every time she closed her eyes, she saw Aaron the security guard’s dead face—but the man’s blank expression was the last thing she remembered before conking out.
She woke before dawn.
Her phone.
Beep, beep. Beep. The only number that would come through no matter what.
She answered groggily, then dressed. Rushed out of her house.
Ivy found Sarah Kachinski waiting outside Delta Assisted Living—DAL, for short—less than fifteen minutes after she’d called.
The matronly, overweight woman was wearing some sort of blue smock that made her look like a giant blueberry. Her face was pinched.
“Ivy, I don’t know where he went. I checked the field, the Queen . . . whatever field, but I couldn’t find him. Sorry for calling you so late, but I’m worried.”
Sarah cared.
Maybe a bit too much. It would have been easier for Ivy to deal with someone more militant and straightforward.
When was he last seen? What time? How was his general demeanor?
The rapid-fire questions that flashed in her mind reminded her of Detective Sacker and his partner.
It was difficult to focus working on such little actual, restorative sleep.
“No—thank you, I appreciate it.” Ivy’s eyes drifted in the direction of the Queen Anne’s lace to the northwest. The DAL building was mostly dark, but the bright lights over the front entrance made everything else pitch-black by comparison.
She couldn’t even make out the flowers.
“I’ve managed to keep this quiet, but if management . . .”
“I know, I know. When’s the last time you saw him?”
“He was in his room for lights out, but I went to check on him at around midnight because of what happened yesterday, and he wasn’t there.”
Sarah’s voice dripped with desperation.
“Do you have a flashlight?” Ivy silently cursed herself for not bringing her own.
The nurse offered her a tired smile. Produced two thick black Maglites from an unseen pocket and handed one to her.
“I’m going to go look for him. Sarah, if I can’t find him in half an hour, I want you to go to management. Tell them he’s missing. Alert the troops or whatever—full-scale search.”
Now she was thinking like a cop, and sounding like one, too.
Sarah’s round face tensed as much as the thick layers of fat would allow. Ivy knew what was coming even before the woman opened her mouth.
“Management . . .” Sarah let out a heavy sigh. “Management’s upset. Frustrated. I think it’s an insurance thing, you know? The place is already over capacity. Money is tight. I heard them grumbling about enforcing the rules.”
Ivy had heard all this before. Disregarded it again.
“I just want to get him back safe.”
Sarah nodded.
“Okay, but I’m coming with you.”
Ivy wasn’t going to let the big woman slow her down, but two sets of eyes were better than one.
“If management asks why you didn’t inform them earlier, tell them I told you not to. Got it?”
“’Kay.”
Ivy switched on the Maglite.
Goddamn, it was bright.
Sarah shielded her eyes, and Ivy swung the beam away from the woman and the building.
“Let’s go.”
Ivy bounded off toward the field. Sarah might have said she searched the area, but Ivy wanted to see for herself.
Everything in the flashlight’s direct path glowed an artificial, ghostly white, while everything else remained black.
Ivy found herself in a sea of flowers.
“Dad?” she said loudly, falling just short of shouting. “Dad? You in here?”
She found the path from yesterday, half-jogged until she reached the end. The area was still depressed from where she’d found the man sitting, twirling the flower between his mangled fingers.
He wasn’t there now.
“Dad?” A little louder this time. “Dad?”
Ivy continued to scan the surrounding area, gradually raising the flashlight beam. Only saw those damn fractal flowers.
“Dad!”
“Ivy?”
Sarah Kachinski, being a much bigger and slower woman, was only arriving now. Her thick chest was heaving.
“What?”
“There’s something . . .” Sarah sucked in a deep breath, placed her hands on her thighs. “There’s something going on over there.”
Sarah pulled one hand off her leg, pointed.
Ivy saw it immediately: blue and red flashing lights in the distance.
“No,” she moaned and broke into a run.
Sprinting. Flashlight beam bouncing up and down.
The police lights were about a quarter mile away, reflecting off some sort of structure. A small barn, maybe, judging by the peaked roof.
Not one car, but two—two cop cars.
Please . . . please . . . please . . .
She was a quarter of the way there. Half.
Breathing hard. Legs and arms pumping. Flashlight swinging.
Ivy almost lost her footing in a boulder-sized divot.
Grunted.
Winced.
Was forced to slow.
The beam of light steadied, and that’s when she saw him.
A man, standing unmoving in the middle of an open field, his back to her, seemingly transfixed by the police cherries.
Ivy skidded to a halt.
“Dad?”