Cracks in the Sidewalk(86)

“You might try hiring a private investigator, but you’d probably be wasting your money. When somebody like Jeffrey decides to disappear, it’s pretty hard to find them. And even if you do, you still can’t make him let you visit the kids.”

A stream of tears started to come from Claire’s eyes. “Those children are all we have left of Elizabeth. We’ve got to find them.”

“We will,” Charlie promised. “We will.” He put his arm around her and together they left the office, both of them hunched over with sadness draped across their shoulders.





Searching


For two weeks Claire remained in bed. In the morning she’d wake, remember she’d lost her grandchildren along with Elizabeth, and then drop back onto the pillow.

“Why bother?” she’d moan. “There’s nothing to get up for.”

The telephone went unanswered, uncollected mail jammed the mailbox, a thick layer of dust settled on tabletops, and Charlie went back to eating his dinner at the diner.

On Sunday he tried to coax her into going to church.

“The Lord’s not interested in hearing from me,” she said and turned toward the wall. When Charlie argued such a thing wasn’t true, she rattled off a list of prayers that hadn’t been answered.

“What about those? If He was listening, would He have let me lose Liz and then lose my grandbabies too?”

Charlie tried to remind her the Lord moves in ways we don’t always understand, but Claire’s ears closed tighter than her eyes. Finally he went to church alone.

“Where’s Claire?” Pastor Tom asked. Charlie simply said she didn’t feel well.

Mildred sauntered over. Mildred had known Claire since grade school, knew Claire inside and out, better perhaps than Charlie.

“Is Claire still home feeling sorry for herself?”

Charlie gave a sheepish grin. “She’s a bit under the weather.”

“Baloney! She’s not sick. She’s just feeling sorry for herself. I stopped by three times last week, but she wouldn’t open the door. I’m her best friend, and she won’t open the door!”

With a weary nod of his head, Charlie sighed. “It’s not you, Mildred. Claire won’t talk to anyone these days. She’s crawled into a shell and she—”

“She doesn’t need you feeling sorry for her, what she needs is somebody to drag her butt out of that bed!”

“As depressed as she is, I hardly think it would help for me—”

“Well, I’d do it if she’d open the door!”

When Charlie left for work Monday morning, the front door of the McDermott house was left unlocked.

Shortly after ten o’clock, Claire heard the doorbell chime but she remained in bed and tugged the covers up around her ears. The chime rang a second time and then a third. After that she heard the front door open and footsteps tromp up the stairs.

Fear slid through Claire’s chest as she nervously called out, “Who’s there?”

“Me,” Mildred said, barreling through the bedroom door.

“How did you—”

“The door was open, so I figured you must’ve left it open for me.”

“As you can see, I’m not up to having company.” Claire dropped her head back onto the pile of pillows.

“What I see is a woman feeling sorry for herself for no good reason.”

“I have a reason,” Claire said defensively, then launched into the story of how Jeffrey had disappeared, taking her grandchildren with him.

“And you figure staying in bed is better than looking for them?” Mildred asked sarcastically.

“Did you not hear what I said?” Claire replied. “No one knows where they’ve gone!”

Mildred plopped down on the bed. “And you’re willing to accept that without looking any further?”

“Where else can I look?”

“David’s in first grade, so try checking the school. Ask some of the neighbors. You said Jeffrey had a girlfriend, try finding her. Go see Jeffrey’s parents. Anything is better than lying here like a lump. You’re so busy feeling sorry for yourself you haven’t thought about anybody else. What if the kids are someplace they don’t want to be? What if they’re waiting for Grandma to find them?”

When Claire gave no answer Mildred said, “I guess they’ll have to keep waiting, because Grandma is busy wallowing in self-pity!”

“I am not,” Claire argued.

“Then prove it. Get out of that bed.”

“I told you, I’m not well.”

“Okay, I’ll take you to the doctor.”

“I’m not that sick.”

“Then get dressed, and we’ll start trying to find those kids!”

The thought of finding her missing grandchildren pried Claire from the bed. Then the two old friends set off on a mission.

Their first stop was David’s elementary school where the records clerk assured them she had no knowledge of the children’s whereabouts.

“Mister Caruthers picked up David’s records himself,” she said. “He didn’t give any indication of what school David would be transferring to.”

“If you hear anything—” Claire said.