Then she loaded the baby and Ralph back into the car and drove to the nearby grocery store to buy a few groceries, mouse traps, and some cleaning supplies.
She made up the bed, got the baby settled, and ate a peanut butter sandwich and a glass of milk before walking down the hall to the pay phone.
She stood there for a minute, coins in hand. But maybe this call wasn’t such a good idea. What if the phone was tapped?
It couldn’t be, she told herself. No one knew that she was here. But what if Mrs. Brammer had let something slip to a friend or neighbor? Or her husband had? Maybe their phone was the one that was tapped.
Jamie felt as though she was going to pass out if she took one more step. Maybe she should wait until tomorrow to call Mrs. Brammer.
Instead, she loaded up the baby and the dog in the car one last time and, keeping to residential streets, drove to far north Oklahoma City and placed her call from a drive-up pay phone near a service station.
“Mrs. Brammer, it’s Jamie. I’m sorry to be calling so late.”
“Jamie, thank goodness!” Mrs. Brammer said. “I’ve been waiting all day for you to call. Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have a phone number where you can be reached?”
Jamie hesitated. “No, and please, you must not tell anyone about me,” she added. “Except your husband and Joe, of course.”
“Are you in hiding?”
“Yes. I am in hiding. I haven’t broken any law,” she hastened to add, “but I am in trouble. Serious trouble. Do you have any idea when Joe might call again?”
“Not really. It could be tomorrow or several weeks from now.”
Jamie ended the call by saying that she would try to call again the following Thursday evening.
She drove home by another route, getting lost on the way. Almost an hour had passed by the time she returned her car to the parking space in the alley behind the apartment house. She waited for Ralph to relieve himself before going inside. She wasn’t sure she had the strength to climb the stairs. Just one step at a time, she told herself.
She drank another glass of milk, fed the baby, and then at last was able to take a shower. A long, hot shower. Even though the bathroom was dirty, it was the most wonderful shower she had ever taken in her life.
She put on one of the flannel nightgowns that Amanda had given her, picked up her baby, and crawled into bed with him. Ralph jumped up on the bed and curled up at the foot. “We’re home,” she told her baby and her dog. Then she began to weep. She wept because she was more exhausted than she had ever been in her life and every muscle in her body felt as though it were on fire. She wept because she was lonely and faced an uncertain future. But mostly she wept because she was afraid.
So very afraid.
The next morning, she finished unloading the car and dyed her hair. The results were discouraging. Her hair not only looked as though it had been trimmed by a lawn mower, it was now a flat shade of brown that made her skin seem sallow. She wanted to cry, but she had already done enough of that.
Her aching body begged her to leave the cleaning and settling in for later, but she had been raised by a woman who believed that rest was allowed only after the chores were done. And it was such a small apartment.
Her grandmother used to say that scrubbing was good for the soul, and it did prove to be good for her spirits as she scoured away years of grime and mouse habitation and polished the two windows until they gleamed. Cleanliness gave the shabbiness a genteel quality that reminded Jamie of the little house in Mesquite.
“You mean that you couldn’t find a single person in Guymon, Oklahoma, or Liberal, Kansas, who remembered seeing Jamie Long?” Gus demanded.
“Yes, sir. That is correct.”
“You’re using that picture I provided?”
“Yes, we are, sir.”
“Have you looked at the security tapes from the ATMs?”
“Yes, sir. The girl had her hair stuffed inside a cap. None of the tapes revealed the presence of a baby, but she had a lot of clothes and boxes piled in the car, and it was impossible to view the far side of the backseat. There was a dog in the passenger side of the front seat.”
Yes, Gus thought. Kelly had said she took her dog with her. “Can you get a still of the dog?” he asked.
“We can try.”
“What about the hospitals in those two towns?” Gus asked. “The nurse here says the girl probably would have needed some stitches.”
“We thought of that. No one fitting her description and circumstances showed up at the emergency rooms in either city. We also checked with the family practitioners, obstetricians, and midwives in both towns, but the girl had not contacted any of them.”
“What about other towns?” Gus demanded.
“There aren’t any other towns in that area large enough to have a physician or a midwife.”
Gus looked at the map he had spread out in front of him. “Go on up into Kansas-to Ulysses, Garden City, Dodge City. To any town that has any sort of medical practitioner. And check at service stations, convenience stores, roadside diners. She has to buy gas and she has to eat. And if the baby is alive, she’ll need diapers and other baby stuff. And she would have had to stop and sleep by now. Check motels for any young woman who paid cash. This is the highest priority. You got that! Highest priority! I want that girl and her baby found.”
Gus slammed down the phone. The girl was outsmarting them.
He got up and kicked a wastebasket across the room. He started to throw a crystal decanter against the wall but decided instead to pour himself a glass of sherry. He downed it and poured another.
It was time for him to talk to Amanda.
Chapter Twenty-six
AMANDA HAD JUST stepped out of the tub and wrapped herself in a warm towel when Toby tapped on the door. “Your brother is on the phone,” he said. Then he stepped inside and, wearing a playful look, tried to pull the towel away.
She hit the side of his head with her fist and stormed out of the bathroom. He knew how upset she was about Montgomery. She was in mourning, for God’s sake. All the man could think about was sex.
“Gus, darling, why haven’t you returned my calls?” she asked, allowing her voice to sound a bit angry. It wasn’t like Gus to ignore her. “Are you still at the ranch? I thought you would be back home by now.”
“I am still at the ranch,” Gus said, his voice weary.
“Freda said the service for Montgomery went well, but I wanted to hear it from you,” Amanda said. “And we need to discuss a grave marker. Something in pink granite, I think. I still can’t believe that she’s gone and that I’m never going to see her again.” Amanda closed her eyes against the pain.
And the anger.
How could Montgomery have done this to her? Montgomery knew how much she and Gus depended on her. How much they cared for her. Who was going to look after Mother now? And the ranch?
“Are you sure she didn’t leave a note?” Amanda asked. “She owed us some explanation of why she would do such a thing. Or do you think she had a nervous breakdown?”
“Something like that,” Gus said. “She was very upset, Amanda. And she had reason to be. Jamie Long left the ranch.”
“Left the ranch!” Amanda cried out. “But why? Did she come back?”