Dream Lake (Friday Harbor #3)(89)

Emma rested for most of the afternoon, while Jeannie kept an eye on her blood pressure. Finally satisfied that the hypertension had subsided, Jeannie left for the day. “Try to get her to sip some water at every opportunity,” she told Zoë. “She keeps forgetting to drink, and we don’t want her to become dehydrated.”

Zoë nodded. “Thank you, Jeannie—I can’t tell you how much I appreciate everything you do for Emma. And for me. We couldn’t do without you.”

The nurse smiled at her. “I’m glad to help. By the way, you may want to give Emma one of the prescription sedatives after dinner, to get a head start on the sundowning. She had a lot of rest today, and even though she needed it, sleeping tonight may be a dicey proposition without a little help.”

“Got it. Thanks.”

Having discovered that Emma stayed calmer when the television was off during the evening, Zoë played some quiet music instead. The strains of “We’ll Meet Again” floated softly through the air. Emma listened as if mesmerized.

“When is Alex coming?” she asked.

The question made Zoë’s heart ache. She missed Alex the most in the evenings, the relaxed conversation while he helped put away the dishes, the way he would hold her and rub her back. One night he had discovered that his laser measure, with its red dot of light dancing across the floor, would drive Byron wild. Alex had sent the cat in circles across the room, chasing after the dot, and then he would switch it off so that Byron thought it was trapped beneath his paw. Watching their antics, Emma had laughed so hard she’d nearly fallen off the couch. On another evening, having learned that Emma was having trouble remembering where things were kept in the kitchen cabinets, Alex had labeled each door with a sticky note, one for plates, another for glasses, another for flatware, and so forth. The sticky notes were still there, making Zoë’s heart twinge every time she saw them.

“I don’t know when Alex will be here,” she told Emma. Or if he’ll ever come back.

“Tom is with him. I want Tom. Can you call Alex?”

“Who is Tom?”

“A rascal.” Emma smiled slightly. “A heartbreaker.”

An old boyfriend. Zoë smiled back at her. “Were you in love with him?” she asked softly.

“Yes. Yes. Call Alex and ask him to bring Tom.”

“A little later, after my bath,” Zoë said, hoping Emma would forget about it as the sedative kicked in. She gave her grandmother a quizzical smile, wondering what connection she had made between her old boyfriend and Alex. “Does Alex remind you of Tom?”

“Oh, yes. Both tall and dark-haired. And Tom was a carpenter. He made such beautiful things.”

There was no telling whether Tom had been real, Zoë thought, or was perhaps a figment of Emma’s imagination.

“I’m tired,” Emma murmured, twisting one of the buttons along the front of her flower-printed pajamas. “I want to see him, Lorraine. I’ve waited for so long.”

Lorraine had been one of Emma’s sisters. Swallowing hard, Zoë leaned over and kissed her. “I’m going to take my bath,” she whispered. “Rest here and listen to the music.”

Emma nodded, staring at the windows, the sky darkening to twilight.

Zoë drew a bath and sank into the hot water with a sigh. She would have liked to soak for a while, but allowed herself only about ten minutes, reluctant to leave Emma unsupervised for any longer than that. Letting the water out of the tub, she dried herself and dressed in a nightgown and a robe.

“Much better,” she said with a smile, walking into the main room.

There was no reply. The couch was empty.

“Upsie?” Zoë glanced around the silent kitchen, and strode into her bedroom. No sign of Emma anywhere.

Zoë’s pulse began to race. So far Emma hadn’t yet started to wander, which was usually a feature of a more advanced stage of dementia. But there had been a definite downturn today. And she had been so insistent on seeing this mysterious Tom, and having Alex bring him … Rushing to the front door, Zoë saw that it was unlocked. She darted outside, her breath coming in frantic bursts. “Upsie, where are you?”

Alex had just concluded a walk to the periphery of his Dream Lake parcel with a Realtor and a lawyer, both of whom worked for Inari Enterprises. They had met for dinner in town, and afterward had gone to the property. They had strolled along a bulldozed trail to the lakefront, ostensibly to get a feel for the land, but mainly to get a bead on what kind of guy Alex was. The meeting had gone well as far as Alex could tell.

Night was falling by the time he got into his truck. As he turned the key in the ignition, his phone vibrated, and he glanced at the small screen. The sight of Zoë’s number caused a tumult of eagerness. He was starved for the sound of her voice. Without even thinking, he answered.

“Hi,” he said. “I’ve been—”

“Alex.” Zoë sounded desperate, shaky. “I’m sorry, I—please help me. I need help.”

“What is it?” he asked instantly.

“Emma’s missing. I just took a bath, and … she’s only been gone for fifteen minutes, but she wandered off and I’ve been calling for her.” Zoë was sobbing and talking at the same time. “I’m outside right now. I’ve gone all around the outside of the house and she won’t answer, and it’s dark—”