She knew enough about herself to know that her tardiness was a defense mechanism, a childish way to delay the inevitable—facing her mother and her mother's condition. Diana had quit her job and hadn't found a new one, so she had nothing to fill her time before going to the hospital except avoidance. And she was good at that, practically a master.
She scrambled to shower and dress, then paused to check herself in the mirror. She had lost a few pounds over the past couple of months, and she thought her face was starting to look too thin. Her brown hair had grown to her shoulders and needed to be trimmed before the ends began to split. Summer was ending, but she still looked pale, so she took the time to apply a small amount of make-up. If her mother was having a coherent day—more and more of a rarity—Diana wanted to look nice. She grabbed a light jacket since they kept the hospital cool, perhaps an added form of sedation for the patients whose brains were already in deep freeze. And she was out the door of her apartment and turning to lock it when she remembered the candy bars.
As her mother descended deeper and deeper into the ravages of Alzheimer's, she became more and more like a child. She refused to eat much of the time—had, in fact, lost about thirty-five pounds off an already slender frame. But she did eat sweets. So Diana never showed up without a handful of candy bars, which the nurses kept in a locked drawer at their station and doled out to her mother on a daily basis. She went back inside, grabbed the candy bars—Hershey's, dark chocolate—off the counter, and then left, locking the door behind her.
Later, when Diana looked back at the series of events that had been set in motion that day, she remembered the candy bars and wondered if everything would have been different if she hadn't gone back for them. She might have made it to the car a few minutes sooner, and Kay Todd might never have found her.
But Diana knew this was not the case. This was simply another attempt at avoidance.
Kay Todd was determined to find her.
They would have met one way or another.
CHAPTER TWO
Diana saw the woman approaching from across the parking lot. She looked unsteady on her feet, wobbly like a drunk, and Diana hoped to avoid her, to slip into her car and be on her way. It was a warm mid-September day, one that had started cool, with frost on the pumpkin, and was heading toward a blazing red sunset. The clouds were just beginning to flame along their tips when the woman said Diana's name.
"Officer Greene?"
She was an older woman with the heavily lined face of a lifelong smoker. She wore a maroon windbreaker, its tail fluttering up as she walked, pink polyester slacks and white tennis shoes that were scuffed and worn. Her hair was thinning and gray and cut short like a man's, and when she spoke again, Diana saw a row of discolored teeth.
"Are you Officer Diana Greene?"
"I used to be Officer Diana Greene. I'm not anymore." Diana squinted at the woman, scanning her face, trying to place it. "And you...?"
Someone played loud music in an apartment across the way, a thumping that Diana felt in her chest. Had she met this woman on the job, arrested her or a family member perhaps? Or, worse yet, was she someone from home, a friend of her mother's passing through town looking for an update on her condition? This seemed like a long shot since her mother had few friends, and Diana's goal of leaving Westwood and their life there far behind had worked.
The woman smiled and held out her hand. The odor of stale cigarette smoke came off of her in waves, and the tips of her fingers were stained yellow by nicotine.
"I'm Kay Todd. We haven't met." They shook. The woman's hand felt tiny and frail in Diana's, like holding a small, sick bird. "I was hoping we could talk."
"I'm actually on my way somewhere. But if this is a police matter, I'm not on the force any more. You need to go to the station—"
"I've been inside there before, honey," Kay Todd said. "I know how they handle things in there. If you would just let me come in. It won't take long."
Diana looked at her watch. Nearly five. A forty-five minute drive to Vienna Woods, and she had to be there by six. She still had a little time, but she didn't know what to make of the little, rocking scarecrow of a woman standing before her. Something stirred within Diana, some combination of pity and caution, and it must have shown on her face.
"We don't have to go inside your house. We can go to the diner up the way."
"I don't know you..."
"Please," Kay Todd said. Her eyes glistened. "Please. You're going to want to hear what I have to say."
The wind picked up, warm and swirling, tossing leaves across the tops of their shoes.
"Are you telling me this isn't a police matter? That it's something personal between you and me?"
"It's more personal than anything else at this point," Kay Todd said. "You see, I have a daughter, and she disappeared...and I know..."
She didn't finish her thought, but instead made a gesture, something to indicate that they should continue their conversation somewhere else.
Diana's heart fluttered, a quick stirring. She did want to know. She couldn't help herself now. She just followed along, letting Kay Todd lead the way.
*