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“Why did she visit you?”

“Hello-o. She was probably like totally bored. Who wouldn’t be?”

“What did you talk about with her?”

“Nothing. Life. She was trying to cheer me up. As if.”

So much rage in one so small. Cardinal estimated Cindy’s height at about five-four. Slight build. Very similar to Terri Tait, maybe a little bigger.

“Did she tell you anything about herself? Where she was from? Where she was going?”

“She said she was from like B.C. or Vancouver. Whatever. She was studying acting. Totally wants to be famous—like who doesn’t. Mostly she asked questions.”

“What sort of questions?”

“She’s like, Where do you live? How many brothers and sisters do you have? What do your parents do? And I am so not into it. She’s like, Do you have a boyfriend? And I’m like, As if.”

“Did she tell you why she’s here in Algonquin Bay?”

“No.”

“Did she tell you what happened to her?”

“No.”

“You didn’t ask about the bandage on her head?”

“Bandage?”

Of course not, Cardinal thought. You didn’t even see it. No one else exists in your world.

“She did ask to use my cellphone. And I let her. Said she didn’t have one, and the hospital phone wasn’t working.”

“When was that?”

“Last night. Around seven.”

“Do you know who she called?”

“No way. Some Vancouver number. She asked first if that would be okay. I didn’t care.”

“Was it a man or woman, do you know?”

“I’m not a snoop. Soon as she started dialling, I put the headphones on.”

“Did she say anything about planning to leave here? Where she might go?”

“Nope. Why are you so, like, after her? What is she, like a total criminal mastermind or something?”

“We’re not after her. We’re trying to protect her.”

“I hate being protected,” the girl said, as if people were constantly forcing their protective services on her.

“When did you see her last?”

“Couple of hours ago.”

“What was she wearing?”

“Hospital nightgown thing.”

She could have hidden her other clothes underneath that, then gone and changed somewhere else.

“What happened?”

“What do you mean, what happened? She came in, made a little chit-chat. And left. I didn’t know she was going anywhere. Why would I care?”

“We need to know who she called. May I look at your cellphone?”

“It’s right there. Knock yourself out.”

Cardinal picked up the phone from her night table. It was seashell pink with a tiny sticker that said Do Not Enter. He pressed the memory button and a list of numbers appeared on the tiny screen. There was only one with the Vancouver area code.

“Is this the one she dialled?”

Big shrug. Bored eyes. “Search me. I fell asleep.”

Cardinal made a note of the number.

“You fell asleep while she was here?”

“There’s not like a whole lot else to do in this place.”

“Have you checked your things? Are you missing anything?”

“No, I’m not missing anything.”

Cardinal opened the closet. There was a denim jacket, bell-bottoms, cargo pants and a couple of T-shirts on the shelf.

“My hoodie,” she said. “Bitch took my hoodie.”

“Hoodie?”

“Long-sleeved T-shirt with a hood. Dark blue. That total bitch. That thing was expensive. I’m gonna kill her.”

“You may have to get in line.”

“That total LOSER.” The pale hands slammed down on the bed.

“Listen, Cindy,” Cardinal said. “I’m sorry about your clothes, and I want to thank you for your help. I hope you feel better soon.”

“As if.”

The girl clamped the headphones over her ears, banishing him.

In the corridor, Cardinal pulled out his own cellphone and dialled the Vancouver number. A snippy, synthetic voice informed him that service at the number had been suspended.

“Excuse me,” he said to the nurse on duty. “How many women’s washrooms are there on this floor?”

“The patients’ rooms all have their own washrooms,” she said. She looked scarcely older than Cindy, minus the incandescence of rage. “Or did you mean public washrooms?”

“Public, yes.”

“There’s two. One right there.” She pointed to a door across the corridor. “And another one by the elevator.”

Cardinal showed her his ID. “I’m looking for your patient Terri Tait. I need to check both those washrooms. Will you come with me?”

The nurse went to the closest washroom and knocked loudly on the door. She pushed it. “There’s no one in here.”

Cardinal went with her into the white glare of tile and porcelain.

“What are you looking for?”

“I’m not sure.” There were only two stalls. He checked both of them. “Will you show me the other one, please?”

He followed her down the hall to the elevator area. Once again the nurse knocked loudly on the door before pushing it open.

Cardinal opened the first stall. Nothing. Then the second. A patient’s nightgown and robe hung from the hook on the back of the door.

The nurse bent down and picked up a narrow strip of paper, a patient’s ID band. “I guess they never changed her tag,” she said.

Cardinal took it from her. It still read Jane Doe.

* * *

Back in the car, Cardinal called Delorme at home. There was a clatter on the other end of the line and then Delorme’s sleep-husky voice saying hello.

“I woke you. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t sound sorry.”

“I’m not. Terri Tait has disappeared from hospital.”

Delorme’s voice cleared. “Abducted, you think?”

“Looks like she just borrowed some clothes and snuck out. Of course, it’s possible someone picked her up in the parking lot. Did we ever hear anything back from the Vancouver police?”

“Nothing. But I got a social insurance number. I’m waiting for employment records.”

“So we still don’t know if she has relatives in this area.”

“’Fraid not.”

“I’m thinking it’s possible she’s spent time here before. That she has someplace to go, people who will take her in. If we do the footwork, we’ll find the place, find the people.”

“What do we do in the meantime?”

“I’ve got a phone number to follow up on. Someone she called from the hospital.”

“Local?”

“Vancouver area code, but it could be a cellphone. I’ve already put out an all-points. That red hair of hers, somebody’s bound to spot her sooner or later. In the meantime, I’m going to bed.”

“Where are you now?”

“Trout Lake Road. Coming back from the hospital.”

“Do you ever wish you did something else entirely? Something unrelated to police work?”

“I fantasize about running a carpentry business. But then if I did woodworking full time, I’d probably get sick of that, too.”

“Me, sometimes I wish I’d just gone into business. I wasn’t too far from an MBA when I got sidetracked.”

Cardinal realized after he hung up that that was the most personal conversation they’d had in six months.

29

THE BLINDS WERE ALL SHUT; the house was in the dim, lightless grey of limbo. Terri was sitting on her jacket, but even folded up it couldn’t soften the hardwood floor. Run, run, run. The words reverberated in her head as if they had become the soundtrack for her life.

She stared at the red-brick fireplace and its sooty interior. Whoever had last lived in this house had certainly cleaned the place up before shutting the door for the last time. She wondered who they were, and if they had been happy. There was nothing special about the house itself. There were a hundred just like it in the neighbourhood, but Terri had been happy here.