Rock-a-Bye Bones (34 page)

I tried her cell phone—no answer. I hadn't expected her to respond, and I wondered if she even had the phone with her. She knew she could be tracked through the GPS on the phone. Likely, the smartphone was sitting on the foyer table at Hilltop ringing away.

I slid behind the wheel and drove to the Richmond house. If Tinkie was there, all of my suspicions could be put aside, and we could bask in the knowledge we'd solved our case and Libby and her mother would soon be reunited.

If she wasn't there … my choices became much more complicated.

When I pulled up at Hilltop, there was no sign of the Caddy or of Oscar's car. It wasn't yet five, so the bank hadn't closed. Oscar was still at work. I knew the worst when Chablis leaped from the car and ran yelping to the front door. She sounded as if someone were torturing her. She jumped and clawed at the front door. I understood. Chablis sensed that Tinkie was gone.

Trying to comfort the little dust mop, I lifted her into my arms and slipped into the house with the key Tinkie had given me so long ago. My worst suspicions were confirmed. The house was empty, and it looked as if a tornado had come through. Baby things were tossed everywhere. When I went upstairs to Tinkie's room, the floor and furniture were littered with clothes. Tinkie had gone through her things and packed in a great hurry.

Chablis ran around the bedroom, sniffing everything. At last, she sat in the middle of the room and howled. I'd never heard her make that sound. Sweetie Pie went over to nuzzle her, and even Pluto attempted to show sympathy by rubbing against Chablis's face.

There was no doubt now. Tinkie and the baby were gone. My heart ached for Chablis, but I had to focus.

My next call was trickier. I wanted to talk to Oscar without alarming him. As much as Oscar loved Libby, he would never condone kidnapping. Once he realized what Tinkie had done, he would be crazed. I didn't want to upset him and start a ball rolling that I couldn't stop. I needed to find out what, if anything, Oscar knew, and then I had to find my partner and the baby and bring them back before anyone realized they were gone.

It was a tall order, but this was one instance when I couldn't fail.

There were people I could trust, and I called Harold. “Do you know if Oscar has seen or heard from Tinkie in the last four hours?”

“Where is she?” Harold was nobody's fool, and he knew how attached Tinkie was to the infant. “She's taken off, hasn't she?”

“I think she's on the run. Pleasant Smith has been rescued and is safe at the hospital. Tinkie is nowhere to be found.”

“Tinkie called and said she was leading Coleman into the woods to find you and Pleasant. That's what Oscar told me. As far as I know, that's where he thinks she is.”

“She sent Coleman to the rescue, but she never showed.”

“She left you there? In possible danger? That's not like Tinkie.”

How right he was there. “If she's taken the baby—”

“That's kidnapping.” Harold sounded as worried as I felt. “What are you going to do?”

A better question would be, what could I do? She could have gone in any direction, but my guess was she'd head for Memphis with the thought of a flight to New Orleans or Atlanta, both international airports. Tinkie was one of the smartest people I knew. Her only hope of keeping Libby lay in getting out of the United States and ultimately landing in a place without extradition. Dubai or Croatia might have the most advanced technology or beautiful terrain, but they were too far from Oscar and Zinnia, Mississippi. And from me.

I had to stop Tinkie before she made a mistake she couldn't take back. Much like my moment of darkness in the woods with a gun barrel to Luther Potter's head, Tinkie was acting on a dark impulse. Before my turn with Potter, I might not have understood. But my aunt Loulane would say, “The heart wants what it wants.”

I'd heard that all my life, but I also knew the conclusion of the Emily Dickinson quotation. “Or else it doesn't care.”

And boy did Tinkie care. Libby had become her whole life. From where she was sitting, there was no future without that baby.

I only hoped that I could find her and bring her home before she wrecked her marriage and her life. Oscar might agree that Libby made the world go round, but he would be devastated that Tinkie had left him behind in a quest to keep the baby. I had to make this right before it was too late.

Where had Tinkie gone and how could I get ahead of her?

*   *   *

I left Hilltop with all the critters in the front seat of the patrol car. Chablis was pitiful. She curled into the smallest ball of glitzed hair and trembled violently. She wasn't cold; she was having a fit of despair. I tried to console her, but she only whimpered and crawled away from me. Her little doggie heart was breaking.

Tinkie was in danger of losing everything she loved, but she couldn't see that. She was driven by the maternal instinct to protect her child. It didn't matter that Libby was not her blood. Nor did it matter that Libby had a mother who would love her. For Tinkie, this was a case of life or death.

I had to make a call to the sheriff's office—after I returned the patrol car. Or sort of returned it. I drove straight to Dahlia House and transferred the animals to my car. I would call DeWayne and ask him to pick up the patrol car at my house and return it to Coleman. I didn't want to inconvenience Coleman, but I also couldn't go to the hospital. If he took one look at me, he'd know something was amiss. I had to hit the road.

When I pulled up at Dahlia House, I was shocked to see an attractive blond woman in a wheelchair on the front porch. I jumped out of the car, worried that whoever she was, the bitter cold must certainly be affecting her.

“Just a moment and I'll open the door,” I called as I let the pets out. My first clue was when Sweetie Pie and Chablis charged down the front porch, ignoring my guest. Pluto slowly walked up the steps and sat in front of the woman, staring at her with his green, green eyes.

“Ma'am, are you lost?” What were the odds of finding an infant and a woman in a wheelchair on the front porch of Dahlia House all in one week?

“I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. I'm here to see you, Sarah Booth Delaney.”

I didn't have time for this interruption. Where had this woman come from and how was she going to leave? There wasn't a vehicle in sight. “Let's go inside. It's freezing out here.” Though I normally didn't invite strangers into my home, this beautiful woman didn't seem to pose a threat.

When we were inside, I held open the swinging kitchen door so she could wheel herself into the warmest room in the house.

“Would you care for something hot to drink?” I really had to get on the road, but I couldn't abandon the woman. “Can I call someone for you?”

“No, I'm exactly where I need to be.”

“Why are you here?” I rounded up some cans of cat and dog food for the four-legged kids. I didn't know where I would end up or how long I'd be gone. They had to have provisions.

“To bring you a message.”

It was only then that I realized who she really was. I'd read the news story about her—though I couldn't remember her name—Stephanie something or other. Her heroics had been all over the television and Internet.

“You protected your children with your own body during a tornado. You saved both of them. They survived without a scratch, and you lost the use of your legs.”

“A small sacrifice for my children.”

A really bad feeling knotted in the pit of my stomach. Jitty always came with a purpose, and this one scared me. “What is Tinkie going to have to give up?”

“She's a mother. Whatever sacrifice is called for, she'll make it.”

The beautiful blond showed not a whit of regret at what she'd given up to save her children, and while I knew the woman was an apparition—another guise for my haint, Jitty—I couldn't help the tears that formed. “Tinkie has given up enough.”

“Her willingness to sacrifice tells me how deeply she can love.”

“This isn't right, though. Taking Libby is wrong. I know Tinkie loves her, but she was never Tinkie's to fall in love with. And now she's kidnapped the baby. I have to save her.”

“You can't.” The blond shifted and morphed until Jitty sat in the wheelchair. “You can't save her, Sarah Booth.”

“I have to try.”

“Yes, you do.” She stood up and pushed the wheelchair across the room. It evaporated before it crashed into the wall. “But you can't save her. She is desperate and willing to sacrifice anything and everything to save Libby.”

“But Libby isn't in danger. Tinkie isn't
saving
her. Libby is happy and safe and she will have her mother back.”

“That is danger, to Tinkie. You have to put yourself inside her skin. She is that little girl's mother now, and anyone who wants to take her is a threat. Tinkie has convinced herself that she can give Libby what no one else can, that primordial mother love.”

“Pleasant will love her baby. She stayed alive in terrible conditions just because she hoped to hold her little girl.”

Jitty sighed. “This is a case for King Solomon.”

I knew the story of the two women who claimed the same baby. Their case was brought before King Solomon, who ruled that the baby should be cut in half so that each woman got a part of the child. When the real mother yielded her claim to save the baby, she was given the child because King Solomon recognized the true mother's willingness to sacrifice her heart to protect her son.

“Not even the wisdom of King Solomon can save Tinkie,” I said. “This is Pleasant's baby, and she is a capable, responsible young woman who deserves to have her little girl.”

“Then you must convince Tinkie to do the right thing.”

“First I have to find her.”

Jitty pointed out the kitchen window where the moon had come up over the empty horse pastures. “Times a-wastin'. If you want your partner home for Thanksgiving, you'd best find her and bring her back.”

 

26

Memphis was the city I settled on. Tinkie would go for the place most likely to have a flight. Jackson, Mississippi, had an airport, but there were longer delays and fewer flights. With Thanksgiving right around the corner, more frequent flights would work in Tinkie's favor, because she would be on standby.

How I would find her or stop her, I didn't know. I only knew I had to try.

With the accelerator to the floorboard, I flew toward Memphis, regretting my decision to bring the critters along. They were no trouble, but I didn't know where I'd end up. Which was why I'd brought them in the first place; I didn't know when I'd be home. But they would have been safe and more comfortable at Dahlia House, at least my two would. Chablis would not be happy anywhere but in Tinkie's arms.

If luck ran with Tinkie, she'd have caught a flight and be on her way. I had no idea what security measures were in place for infants. Did she need identification? Would Libby need a passport to get out of the country? Tinkie was far better versed in such things. International travel with a kidnapped baby wasn't part of my normal world.

It occurred to me to call the airport security and have an amber alert put out for Libby. I might catch her in that net, but such a move would effectively ruin Tinkie's life. I couldn't bring myself to do it. Not yet. Maybe I could catch up with her, reason with her, and bring them both home.

To that end I drove too fast and reached the Memphis airport in record time. I left the animals in the car in the parking garage. As long as I hustled, they wouldn't get too cold. When I entered the airport lobby, I took my bearings. As I'd assumed, it was crowded with holiday travelers.

Tinkie would be easy to spot. She was fashion perfection, and wherever she went, men turned to watch her walk by. But there was no sign of my petite partner in the lobby. I went to the boards and checked the flights to New Orleans and Atlanta. Two airlines had planes boarding.

Without a ticket, I would never get past the TSA agents. I went to the check-in desk of one airline.

“My cousin is on a business trip, and I can't remember whether she's going to New Orleans or Atlanta to catch a flight to Europe. Her Aunt Loulane has taken a turn for the worse and is dying. Could you check your passenger manifest and get a message to her?”

It was a long, long shot. The agent looked through the computer and shook her head. “I don't have a Tinkie Richmond ticketed.”

“Thanks.” I hurried to the next carrier's counter and went through the same process.

“I'm sorry, we don't have a person booked with that name.”

“Could she be on standby?”

The clerk checked the screen again. “I'm sorry. She isn't ticketed.”

Turning away, I walked toward the exit that would take me back to the parking garage. I'd chosen wrong and wasted nearly two hours. Tinkie had obviously gone to the Jackson airport. By the time I got back to Zinnia, it would be too late to do anything to stop her. Everyone would know Tinkie had kidnapped the baby and run away. The fallout would be terrible.

The best thing I could do now was to get home as quickly as possible so I could support Oscar. I didn't think criminal charges would be brought against him, though Tinkie would surely be a fugitive from the law. Oscar wasn't involved in this baby-napping, and I had to make sure he was viewed as an innocent bystander

I called Harold and gave him an update. “She probably went to Jackson,” I said.

“I'll call and see. I'm sure if she did, she's caught a flight, but we can begin to track her, at least,” Harold said. “I have all of her account information, so they may give me some help on the phone. Should I put a hold on her ability to access money?”

At this stage, I didn't know the right answer. If she was caught, she'd go to prison. If she left the country, little Libby would never know her real mother, and Coleman and I would be held responsible since we'd both insisted that Tinkie keep the infant until Pleasant was found.