Part 44 (2/2)
Aunt Tempe: I called but you must not be there. I am ferociously worried about Harry.
Please call.
Kit
From age two Kit had called his mother by name. Though his parents disapproved, the boy refused to change. Harry simply sounded better to his ear.
As I worked my way backward through my nephew's messages, I experienced a mix of emotions. Fear for Harry's safety. Annoyance at her cavalier att.i.tude. Compa.s.sion for Kit. Guilt at my own inconsideration. His must have been the call I ignored while talking with Kathryn.
I went to the hall and hit the b.u.t.ton.
Hi, Aunt Tempe. It's Kit. I'm calling about Harry., When I call your condo in Montreal she doesn't answer, and I have no idea where she's gone. I know she was there until a few days ago. Pause. Last time we talked she sounded strange, even for Harry. Nervous laugh. Is she still in Quebec? If not, do you know where she is? I'm worried. I've never heard her sound like this before. Please give me a call. Bye Is she still in Quebec? If not, do you know where she is? I'm worried. I've never heard her sound like this before. Please give me a call. Bye.
I pictured my nephew, with his green eyes and sandy hair. It was hard to believe Howard Howard had made any genetic contribution to Harry's son. Six foot two and thin as a ladder, Kit was an exact replica of my father.
I replayed the message and considered whether something was amiss.
No, Brennan.
But why was Kit so concerned?
Call him. She's fine.
I hit the speed dial b.u.t.ton. No answer.
I tried my number in Montreal. Ditto. I left a message.
Pete. He hadn't heard from Harry.
Of course not. He was as fond of my sister as he was of nail fungus. She knew that.
Enough, Brennan. Back to the victims. They need you.
I turned my thoughts from my sister. Harry had gone off before. I had to a.s.sume she was all right.
I went back to the sofa and lay down. When I woke I was in my clothes, the portable phone ringing on my chest.
”Thanks for calling, Aunt Tempe. I-Maybe I'm jumping the gun, but my mother sounded very depressed the last time I talked to her. And now she's disappeared. It's not like Harry. To sound so down, I mean.”
”Kit, I'm sure she's fine.”
”You're probably right, but, well, we'd made these plans. She's always complaining that we never spend time together anymore, so I promised to take her out on the boat next week. I've pretty much finished the renovations, so Harry and I were going to sail around the Gulf for a few days. If she's changed her mind, she could at least call.”
I experienced the usual anger at my sister's thoughtlessness.
”She'll get in touch, Kit. When I left she was pretty caught up in her workshop. You know how your mother is.”
”Yeah.” He paused. ”But that's just it. She sounded so . . .” He searched for a word. ”Flat. Not like Harry.”
I remembered my last evening with Harry.
”Maybe it's part of the new persona. A lovely, exterior calm.” My words even sounded false to me.
”Yeah. I guess. Did she mention she was going someplace else?”
”No. Why?”
”Something she said made me think she might have a trip planned. But, like, it wasn't her idea, or she didn't want to? Oh h.e.l.l, I don't know.”
He let out a sigh. In my mind's eye I saw my nephew run a hand backward through his hair, then rub the top of his head. Kit frustration.
”What did she say?” Despite my resolve, I felt the beginnings of anxiety.
”I don't remember exactly, but get this. It wouldn't matter what she wore or how she looked. Does that sound like my mother?”
No. It didn't.
”Aunt Tempe, do you know anything about this outfit she's hooked up with?”
”Just the name. Inner Life Empowerment, I think. Would you feel better if I made some inquiries?”
”Yeah.”
”And I'll call my neighbors in Montreal and see if they've seen her. O.K.?”
”Yeah.”
”Kit. Remember when she met Striker?”
There was a pause.
”Yeah.”
”What happened?”
”She set off for a balloon rally, went missing for three days, then turned up married.”
”Remember how freaked you were?”
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