After Anna(111)

‘It’s okay.’ Caleb nodded.

‘I see you got one of those phones. What you got on there?’

‘Clash of Clans. A game.’

‘My oh my. Good for you!’ Elma cleared her throat, with difficulty. ‘I’d love some tea. Caleb, would you get me some, so I don’t have to get up? The kettle’s full, all you do is turn the knob.’

‘Yes.’ Caleb rose and went to the kitchen.

‘Thanks, Caleb.’ Maggie glanced back to make sure he was okay. The kitchen was small, and Caleb turned the knob on the stove, then sat down at the table to play his video game.

‘Would you girls like some tea, too?’

‘No thanks,’ Maggie answered, for both of them. ‘Is PG your only granddaughter?’

‘Yes, she is.’

‘Do you have any grandsons?’

‘Not from the same man. You know how that goes.’ Elma sighed. ‘Do you smoke?’

‘No.’

‘Good. It’s terrible for you. I want a cigarette but I can’t have one. Not until bedtime. Sometimes I cheat.’ Elma smiled naughtily, showing dimples in her cheeks, which she must have passed on to her granddaughter, PG.

‘Where does PG go to school?’

‘Tipton High. She’s a whip, that girl. Smart.’ Elma frowned. ‘I was fit to be tied when she dropped out, but there was no stopping her.’

‘When did she drop out?’

‘January. Said school wasn’t her thing. She’s her own boss, that one.’

‘She was a waitress at Eddie’s, wasn’t she?’

‘Yes, she got the job there. Liked it for a time, but she wanted to move to the big city.’

‘Which city?’

‘Philadelphia, but they’re all the same, aren’t they? Tall buildings, too many people. No grass under your feet.’

‘Do you remember when she left for Philadelphia?’

‘No.’ Elma shook her head. ‘It’s been a while.’

‘Maybe April? Around Easter maybe?’

‘Yes.’ Elma’s rheumy eyes lit up behind her bifocals. ‘I remember because she came to visit me on Easter, to say good-bye. She brought me a hyacinth. I love hyacinth.’

‘So do I.’ Maggie glanced at Kathy, thinking that it confirmed that PG was the imposter. ‘Does she call you?’

‘Sometimes. Not in a while. I try not to worry. She’s a strong girl. Got a mind of her own. She wants to be president.’

Maggie fell silent a moment, sad for Elma.

‘You know what PG calls me? Not Elma, Elmo. Like the toy.’ Elma patted her head. ‘I had red hair when she was little, and she called me Granny Elmo. Her brother, too. They thought that was so funny. They would sit right there watching that show.’ Elma pointed at the floor. ‘Sesame Street. I put it on for them. Burton Ernie. I thought the puppet’s name was Burton Ernie. They said, “No, it’s Bert and Ernie.” ’

Maggie smiled. ‘I thought PG didn’t have a brother.’

‘Her half-brother, Roy. He’s older by three years. Roy and PG were thick as thieves when they were little. But he lost his way when he grew up.’ Elma frowned. ‘Fell in with the wrong crowd. They got him into trouble. He got locked up for a while.’

‘Elma, what’s Roy’s last name? Is it Tenderly?’

‘No, Watson. He’s a Watson, through and through. Him and his father, the low-lifers. Low-lifers.’ Elma shook her head. ‘I told my daughter, that man will get you in trouble. He’ll steal anything ain’t nailed down. He stole from me. He stole my check when it come in. He stole out my wallet. He stole my late husband’s wedding band out my jewelry box!’

‘Does Roy stay in touch with PG?’

‘Yes, he says she’s doing real good. She got an office job down there.’

Maggie knew it was a lie, so Roy must have known that PG was impersonating Anna. ‘Did he say where the office job is?’

‘Don’t remember.’

Maggie was thinking that it was time to go to the police and tell them about Roy and PG. Her purse was in the car, and she’d call when they left. ‘Where does Roy live, Elma?’

‘Few blocks over, on East Road. He drops off my groceries every other week. He’s got a good heart, that boy.’

‘What does he do for a living?’

‘He’s a truck mechanic.’

‘Is he married?’

‘Oh no, no way. He plays the field. His friends, too.’ Elma frowned deeply. ‘I don’t like them, not at all. Connie’s the main one. Another low-lifer.’

‘Connie?’ Maggie repeated, catching Kathy’s eye. ‘Is Connie a man’s name?’

‘Yes, he’s not from here. Konstantine. With a K.’

‘What’s his last name?’

‘I forget, I couldn’t pronounce it anyway.’

‘Where does he live?’

‘Oh, look, speak of the devil.’ Elma’s head turned to the window, and Maggie rose and looked outside, alarmed to see two men running up the front walk, kicking up snow. The bigger man took the lead, and when they got closer, she could see him slide a handgun from his jacket pocket.