“I don’t know. He packed his own things.”
The questions continued.
Had he ever attempted suicide before? Was he having financial troubles? Had he made any new friends lately? Had there been any suspicious activity in any of his bank accounts? Did he have a passport? Did he owe anyone money? Had there been phone calls to the house? Had she noticed anyone watching the bungalow yesterday?
When all the questions had been answered, the officer rose and thanked June.
“The county might investigate to rule out foul play,” he said. “This information will be helpful if we can’t find Mr. Blankenship. If you think of anything else that might help, just call down to the station. And when you return home to Malibu, we need for you to see if the gun is still under the mattress.”
The officers went back outside to confer with the other authorities and to get an update on the search party’s progress.
Max watched them go, shaking his head. “I should have insisted we get Elwood help when I was out at your place the other day. I shouldn’t have taken no for an answer.”
“I should have insisted,” June said. “This is my fault.”
Max swung back around. “No it’s not. You were too close to him. You weren’t about to ruffle his feathers. But I could have made the call. I could’ve brought someone in. So what if he might’vehated me for it? At least he would’ve gotten the help he needed and this wouldn’t be happening right now.”
Across from her, Melanie got to her feet. “I’m going to look for him, too.”
“I’ll join you,” June said, also rising.
Max stood as well. “The cops might say leave it to the pros to look.”
“I’m going anyway,” Melanie said. “Sitting here isn’t helping.”
“I don’t care what they say, either,” June said. “You can stay here, Max, if you want, and in case Elwood changes his mind and shows up.”
Those in charge of the search weren’t in the driveway to tell them to stay at the bungalow if they’d been of a mind to say so, so June and Melanie set out in a different direction than the search team to look for a man whom they both knew was nowhere in the desert.
When twilight began to touch the sky with shades of rose, violet, and peach with no sign of Elwood, Melanie and June drove into town to use a pay phone to call Eva for an update on the fire.
Eva didn’t know much more about the Malibu blaze other than multiple fires were still burning and all of Malibu had been evacuated. Nicky had asked about Melanie several times after he awoke from his lap nap, but he was fine now. He’d had fun splashing in his undies on the steps of Max’s pool, they’d taken a couple of walks in the neighborhood, played with his Christmas toys, and were now about to eat scrambled eggs and toast with jam for dinner. Max didn’t have much else in his kitchen to eat.
“How are things there?” Eva asked.
“The search party is still out,” June said. “I guess they’re going to continue until midnight and pick up again tomorrow. We’re sleeping at the bungalow tonight. You and Nicky can stay there atthe house. Max says the sheets on the guest bed are clean and there are linens in the hall closet if you want to change the sheets on the bed in the master bedroom.”
“Do you think you will be back here tomorrow?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
As they drove back to the bungalow, Melanie fiddled with the radio dial until she found a Los Angeles station relaying the latest information on the fire. The news was grim. A man had died that day trying to flee the flames, and more than thirty homes had been destroyed in the Zuma Beach area alone. Hot spots were popping up everywhere. The fire was predicted to burn its way into Ventura County, northwest of Los Angeles. Nine hundred firefighters—including two hundred and twenty-five Navy volunteers—were engaged in battling the flames, and an end was not yet in sight.
The second and third days in Palm Springs ended like the first had, with no sign of Elwood Blankenship despite a twenty-mile radius being searched by both trained professionals and teams of volunteers. June was told that without water, food, or shelter, a man Elwood’s age and health was not expected to survive beyond three days. The arrival of the fourth day would signal the end of the official search and rescue. If Elwood had indeed wandered out into the desert without any food, water, or shelter, and if he’d not been picked up by someone or been aided by someone, and even if he’d not used the gun, he’d most likely perished.
At this news, delivered by the search and rescue team captain, June broke down and wept. Both Max and Melanie immediately put their arms around her.
Elwood was alive to no one now. He’d been gone from just her life for almost three weeks, and now he was gone to everyone.
Presumably deceased wasn’t the same as officially deceased, though. June was also told it might be some time before Elwood was actually declared dead since no one saw him enter the desert and no body had been recovered.
Max said he’d stay a few more days in Palm Springs; he wasn’t giving up just yet. June said she wasn’t giving up, either—it seemed the right thing to say—but Melanie and Nicky had airplane tickets to Omaha for the next day. Their flight left at noon. And June was desperate to be reassured that the house was okay. Scores of homes in Malibu had been scorched or severely damaged, but so far Elwood’s house hadn’t appeared on any list of lost homes published in the dailyLA Times.
“I understand,” Max said when she told him this. “I’ll keep looking for Elwood during the day and I’ll read the script at night. He had to be close to being done before he did this. And I want him to be remembered well for his last screenplay if it’s really going to be his last one. Where would he have put it? I’ve looked pretty much everywhere in the bungalow and I don’t see it.”
A jagged bolt of panic darted through June’s body at the mention of the script.
“June?” Max said. “Where’s the script? You said Elwood came here to think and work. So where’s the script?”
