The two women hugged. Aunt Margie engulfed my mother’s small frame.
“You still smell like roses.” Mom turned to me, waving her fingers at Aunt Margie. “She still does.”
“Same toilet water. Keep thinking it might sweeten me up some.” Aunt Margie walked over to hug me too. “Come on in the kitchen. We’ll have something to eat, and you can tell me your story. I imagine it’s a whopping one.” She took Mom’s arm and began ushering her out of the garage. I followed on hollow legs.
“Do you have tea?” Mom asked.
“Of course I do.”
“Oh, good. You know, I had a friend named Margie once.”
“Well, you’ll just have to tell me about her sometime. But for now, let’s get you some tea.”
They stepped through the kitchen door. I grabbed my purse from the car and trailed behind.
My aunt sat us down at the table, then bustled about making tea, toast, and scrambled eggs. For a few moments I watched her, my body graceless and my mind on hold. Aunt Margie was smart enough to give Mom her tea as soon as possible. My mother gave a soft crow of delight and lifted the cup to her lips. “Ah. So good!”
I wanted the moment to last forever. Mom satisfied. The two of us safe. After the night we’d had, everything seemed so surreal.
Emily.
“Oh!” I pushed back from the table. “I have to call my daughter.”
“Of course.” Aunt Margie whisked eggs in a bowl. “You can go down the hall to the guest bedroom, if you like. There’s a phone in there.”
“Thanks.” I rose. “Stay here, Mom. Okay?”
She nodded and sipped her tea. As I left the kitchen, I heard her say, “Did you know the Bad People are after us?”
I hurried into the bedroom and dialed Emily’s work number. And was informed she’d gone home sick.
“You mean she was there and left?” I sank down on the bed. This was not good. Emily was much safer at work than in her apartment alone. And she hadn’t seemed sick the last time we talked.
“Yes, she just walked out the door a minute ago.”
I checked my watch. It was now 9:45. “All right, thanks. I’ll try her cell phone.”
Emily answered on the first ring. “Hello?”
“Em, it’s me. Are you sick?”
“Mom, thank God! Where are you?” Emily’s breath came in puffs, her voice with an echo.
“At your Great Aunt Margie’s in Fresno. Are you sick?”
“No. I have stuff to tell you. How are you and Grand?”
“Not good. Did you see me on the news?”
“What? No!”
“The sheriff’s department says I’m a ‘person of interest’ in Leringer’s death, and that I’ve fled to escape. And that I also likely killed two other men—a man who worked for Leringer, and the deputy who was watching my house. Three men, Emily. Everyone’s looking for me. Everyone. They showed my picture and even gave out my make of car and license plate.”
“That’s . . . ” Emily exhaled over the line. “This is insane.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“I saw national news about Leringer’s and the other guy’s murder—what’s his name, Eddington?—but nothing about you.”
“This was local news, the latest update. It was the same reporter who showed up at the scene.”
“And they think you killed all those people.”
“They can’t really think that. I told you Harcroft and Wade couldn’t be trusted. This is their way of getting everyone to help bring me in.”
“This is just crazy.” Emily’s voice rose. “They really are after you.”
“I told you.”
A beat passed. I could still hear Emily breathing hard. “Where are you?”
“I’m going down the back stairs to my car. I needed to get out of the office an hour ago, but I got pulled into this meeting. So frustrating! Now we’ve lost time.”
At Emily’s last sentence the echo in her voice stopped. I could hear wind over the line. “Time?”
“I’m at my car now, but I have to tell you.” Emily rattled off the news about finding a stunning message on the video. A terrorist attack—for real? I listened, unable to utter a word. “That’s today, Mom, get it? Tonight at seven o’clock the West Coast goes dark. And Washington, D.C.—that means the government. Tomorrow it’s the East, and next day it’s Texas. The whole country. Who knows for how long. I don’t even know if we’ll be able to call each other. I mean, how do cell phone towers work without electricity?”
My lungs felt like lead, and my brain chugged. This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t take it all in. The West Coast and Washington, D.C? After that, the rest of the country? Our nation would be crippled.