Page 74 of Evil Bones
“Hair, skin, or eye color. Hair style? Height? Build?” Slidell’s eyes were boring into the tiny woman.
The old nun shook her head. “I just saw him that once, and I was too far away.”
“Did he get into a vehicle?”
“Seems so. Maybe. I’m not sure.”
“What make?”
“I don’t know much about cars.”
“Can you describe it?” Slidell was, for Slidell, being very patient.
Sister Adelbert closed her eyes, going back in her mind to that day in the park. Opened them.
“It was small. And very dark blue. Maybe black.”
“Did you catch the tag?”
Adelbert looked at me.
“The license plate,” I clarified.
“No. One of those Amazon trucks was double-parked and blocking my view. But I wouldn’t have been able to read a license plate from that distance anyway.”
Slidell shifted his feet and cocked his chin. A signal that he was eager to move on.
“Thank you, sisters,” I said. “You’ve been very helpful.”
“You’re most welcome,” Mona said.
“I’ll pray for you,” Sister Adelbert said.
And crossed herself.
While Slidell returned to headquarters to follow up on our interview, I spent a couple of hours sorting through long-ignored correspondence at the MCME, then headed to the Annex to appease my niece, whose multiple calls I’d missed because my phone was again in silent mode.
Maybe it was low blood sugar, having eaten nothing all day. Maybe it was knowing my cupboards were bare. Maybe it was my conscience pointing out that the situation was due to my hatred of shopping. Maybe it was the friggin’ heat. For some reason, my spirits had dropped into the cellar.
Coming through the back door, I called Ruthie’s name. Got no response.
I saw zero sign of Birdie. Even the cat seemed to be keeping his distance.
Parking my keys and phone on the counter, I crossed to the refrigerator. Not optimistic, I opened the door and stood a moment, enjoying thewhooshof cool air.
In my absence, a miracle had taken place.
The shelves and drawers were crammed with a variety of healthy foods. Broccoli. Romaine and iceberg lettuce. Campari tomatoes. Carrots. Apples. Grapes. A dozen yogurts in a dozen flavors.
Choosing apricot, I grabbed a spoon and sat down at the table.
A note lay centered on one of the place mats.
Got hungry. Called Instacart.
Got bored. Called Uber.
Meeting the UNCC group.
