"But…"
"Stay with Joe," Wilma had snapped, and had unceremoniously tossed Dulcie into the car where she hunched miserably on the front seat.
The second stop had been to pick up Charlie, who was waiting in front of her building before the antique shop, sucking on a mug of coffee and snuggled in a fleece-lined denim jacket. She slid into the front seat between Clyde and Wilma, frowning with worry over Mavity.
"Has she remembered her name? Does she know what happened to her?"
"We haven't talked to the hospital," Wilma said. "All I know is what Harper told me when he called, that she was confused and groggy."
"Was she alone in the car?"
Clyde put his arm around her. "As far as we know, she was. They found the VW smashed against a lamppost, outside a pawnshop in the old part of town. Not a likely place for her to be in the middle of the night."
As they sped east on the nearly empty freeway, the dawn air was damp and cool through the open windows, helping to wake them. On either side of the road, the thickly wooded hills rose dark and solid against the dawn sky. Soon they were inland between flat fields, the crops laid out in long green rows, the dawn air smelling of onions. When they arrived at Salinas Medical, Mavity was asleep, an IV tube snaking up her arm to a slowly seeping bottle. In the corner of the room on a hard wooden chair, Max Harper dozed, his long legs splayed out before him. He came fully awake as they entered.
"I've been here about an hour," he replied to Wilma's questioning look. "Haven't gotten much out of her-she's pretty confused."
Clyde went out to the nursing station to get some chairs, and Charlie went to find the coffee machine, returning with four large cups of steaming brew that tasted like rusted metal.
"She has a cerebral contusion," Harper said. "A lot of swelling. They had a shunt in for a while, to relieve the pressure, to drain off some of the fluid. And she's had trouble breathing. They thought she'd have to have a tracheotomy, but the breathing has eased off. She's irritable and her memory's dicy, but that's to be expected. Not much luck trying to recall yesterday afternoon. And when she can't put it together, she gets angry. They're waking her every two hours." He sipped his coffee. He looked like he could use a smoke.
Wilma smoothed Mavity's blanket. "Were there any witnesses to the wreck?"
Harper shook his head. "None that we've found. We don't know yet whether another car was involved or if she simply ran off the street into the lamppost."
Mavity woke just after six and lay scowling at them, confused and bleary. Her wrinkled little face seemed very small surrounded by the thick white bandage and snowy bedding. When Wilma spoke to her, she did not respond. She frowned at Charlie's wild red hair and glared angrily at Harper. But soon something began to clear. She grew restless, and she reached up her hand to Wilma, trying to change position, kicking out of the blanket with one white, thin leg.
Wilma looked a question at Harper, and he nodded. She sat down on the edge of the bed, helping Mavity to get settled, holding her hand. "You had a little accident. You're in Salinas Medical. We came over to be with you."
Mavity scowled. Wilma smiled back. "Do you remember cleaning for Mr. Jergen yesterday afternoon?"
Mavity looked at her blankly.
"Mavity?"
"If it was his day, I cleaned for him," she snapped. "Why wouldn't I?" She looked around the room, puzzled. "I was fixing supper for Greeley-sauerkraut and hot dogs." She reached to touch her bandage and the IV tube swung, startling her. She tried to snatch it, but Wilma held her hand. "Leave it, Mavity. It will make you feel better."
Mavity sighed. "We had a terrible argument, Dora and Ralph and me. And the hardware store-I was in the hardware store just a minute ago. I don't understand. How did I get in a hospital?"
"You hit your head," Wilma told her.
Mavity went quiet. "Someone said I wrecked my car." She gave Wilma an angry glare. "I've never in my life had a wreck. I would remember if I wrecked my little car."
"When did you make sauerkraut for Greeley?"
"I-I don't know," she said crossly, as if Wilma was being very rude with her questions.
"When did you and Dora and Ralph argue?" Wilma persisted.
But Mavity turned over, jerking the blankets higher and nearly dislodging the IV, and soon she dropped into sleep. They sat in a tight little group waiting for her to wake.
When she did wake, she jerked up suddenly, trying to sit up. "Caulking," she told Wilma. "Caulking for the shower. Did I buy the caulking? Pearl Ann is waiting for it."
Wilma straightened the bedding and smoothed the sheet. "Pearl Ann sent you to buy caulking? When was this?"
But already she had forgotten. Again she scowled at Wilma, puzzled and disoriented, not remembering anything in its proper order. Perhaps not remembering, at all, Winthrop Jergen's ugly death?
27
IF WILMA GETZ hadn't spent thirty years working with federal criminals, Max Harper would not have placed Mavity Flowers in her custody. Two days after Mavity entered Salinas Medical, she was released to Wilma's care. Wilma drove her home, tucked her up in her own bed and moved a cot into the room for herself. Her official duties, besides helping Mavity, were a perfect excuse to evict Bernine Sage from the guest room, to make room for the twenty-four-hour police guard that Max Harper had assigned. The county attorney agreed that Mavity's care by an old friend might ease her fears and help her remember the circumstances of Winthrop Jergen's death; the case was growing in breadth as law enforcement agencies began to uncover links between Jergen/Cumming, Troy Hoke, and several unsolved crimes in Tennessee and Alabama.
No one knew how much of Mavity's memory loss was due to the cerebral contusion and how much resulted from the shock of what she had witnessed. Under Wilma's gentle questioning, she was beginning to recall more details, to put together the scattered scenes.
But Dulcie's information about Troy Hoke alias Pearl Ann Jamison, which Dulcie passed on to Max Harper during an early-morning phone call, had been-so far as Dulcie and Joe could surmise-totally ignored. Harper felt certain that Troy Hoke had come here to Molena Point to find Warren Cumming; he'd told Clyde that much. So why did he ignore their important and dearly gathered information that Pearl Ann was Troy Hoke?
Mavity could remember returning from the hardware store with Pearl Ann's caulking. She could remember crossing the patio and hearing angry shouts from Jergen's apartment. "Two men shouting, and thuds," she had told Wilma. "Then seems like I was at the top of the stairs standing in the open door." But always, at this point, she went silent. "I don't remember any more. I can't remember."
"Did you see the other man?" Wilma would ask. "Did you know him?"
"I can't remember. When I think about it I feel scared and sort of sick."
Now Wilma glanced out toward the living room where the police guard sat reading the paper. "You were standing in the doorway," she said gently, "and the two men were shouting. And then…?"
"A red neon sign, that's what I remember next. Red light shining in my face. It was night. I could hear people talking and cars passing."
"And nothing in between?"
"No. Nothing."
"The red neon-you were walking somewhere?"
"I was in my car. The lights-the lights hurt. I had to close my eyes."
"In your own car?"
"In the back, with the mops and buckets." Mavity looked at her, puzzled, her short gray hair a tangle of kinks, her face drawn into lines of bewilderment. "Why would I be in the back of my own car? I was lying on my extra pair of work shoes. The lights hurt my eyes. Then someone pulling me, dragging me. It was dark. Then a real bright light, and a nurse. I'm in that hospital bed, and my head hurting so bad. I couldn't hear nothing but the pounding in my head."