“Because she probably couldn’t get another job. Because I don’t really want to see somebody I’ve known since kindergarten sleeping in the street. Why do we have to go through this again?”
“Because,” Jimmy said, “I’m the most loyal person on the planet, and you know that, but even I wouldn’t go on taking care of somebody who spent all her time trying to screw me up. Is that why you won’t marry me? Because you’re afraid I’ll make you fire Maris?”
“Be sensible,” Liz said. She got a cup of tea rigged up—why was it that places always gave you little tiny cups to drink tea in, as if they thought that only coffee drinkers were in it for the caffeine?—and took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Think about Maris for a minute,” she said.
“Where is she?”
“How should I know where she is?” Jimmy said. “Not here. That’s enough for me.”
“Why isn’t she here?”
“Is this a trick question? Maybe if we, you know, did a little rock and roll, it would clear my head and I could answer better.”
“Behave yourself,” Liz said. “Think about this for a minute. Last night, when Chris’s body was found, Maris was at my mother’s house. Right?”
“Right.”
“And then she fell asleep on the couch,” Liz said. “Passed out, really. You remember that? You went off to take a shower, and Mr. Demarkian came in to talk, and then Mr. Demarkian left and I went to bed and Maris was still asleep on the couch. I think I mentioned something to you about it at the time.”
“I think I said something about Maris going down one more step of the alcoholism ladder. I still don’t see what you’re getting at.”
“Well,” Liz said, “if she was asleep on the couch when we all went to bed, where was she when we all woke up?”
Jimmy shrugged. “Maybe she woke up in the middle of the night and went home. Or to wherever she’s staying.”
“At Belinda Hart’s place. How?”
“How what?”
“How did she get home?” Liz insisted.
Jimmy looked thoroughly confused. “She got home the same way she got to the house in the first place,” he said. “She must have driven out, right? So she got back in the car and went home, and it’s probably a miracle she didn’t kill herself or somebody else.”
Liz shook her head. “She didn’t drive out. Or at least, she didn’t drive herself out. She’s got a car she rented, yes, but it’s a bright yellow Volkswagen, one of those new bugs. She told me. There was no bright yellow Volkswagen in the driveway at my mother’s house when Chris’s body was found, and there wasn’t one in the garage, either, because my mother’s car is in there. Maris hates to drive. She even walked all the way back from the Sycamore yesterday after we had lunch.”
“Maris is scared shitless that she’ll kill somebody,” Jimmy said. “It’s one of the few signs of common human decency I’ve ever been able to attribute to her.”
“The thing is,” Liz said, “if she didn’t have a car, then where did she go? Where was she this morning? And what bothers me, what I keep thinking about, is maybe that nothing happened to her this morning. Maybe she’s still out there. Back at the house.”
“Doing what?”
“Waking up to find the house deserted,” Liz said. “Waking up to find the phone lines cut. Or, if you really want to write a worst-case scenario, waking up maybe an hour and a half ago and finding some reporters still outside the house and nobody in it and needing a ride into town and having only one place to get it from. If you see what I mean.”
“Shit,” Jimmy said.
“Exactly,” Liz said. “She could have been half a dozen places in that house and we’d never have seen her if we weren’t looking for her. All she had to do was get up in the middle of the night, still mostly drunk, and go wandering around looking for a bathroom in the dark. Is there a way we could send somebody out there to check?”
“There’s supposed to be a policeman posted,” Jimmy said. “Maybe he can check. Maybe he can find another cop to get her a ride back into town. Assuming she’s still there. Shit, shit, shit. I forgot all about her.”
“I forgot all about her, too,” Liz said. “Oh, damn. This is going to be messy, too. Maris, stranded while we flee, giving no thought to her comfort or well-being. Or however the papers will put it. And People. I’m beginning to be very glad that George folded when it did.”