She always lived by the beach.
He turned on Peaches. “She goes to beaches,” he said.“Which ones?”
“Beaches?” he asked. “I don’t know.”
“Come on, Peaches. We don’t have any time to waste.Anything she might have mentioned.”
Another shrug. “She talked about that day you took herover the bridge. Liked that a lot...”
Too far. It was too far across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge.Besides, Tony didn’t want to think of what she might wantto do there. He wanted her on a beach, where she might go to settle things in the fresh air and watch the waves and the birds.
“Something closer,” Tony commanded, turning for the file cabinets. “Look for maps. Anything that might have aname on it. She has to have mentioned something. How’bout roads, places she talks about driving?”
“You think she just took off?” Peaches demanded, incredulous.
“I think she’s lost,” Tony said. “And we have to findher.”
Hehad to find her.
“But why?” Nadine demanded. “What could possibly beawful enough it could make her want to run from her babies?”
“Me,” Tony admitted. “I made her run.”
“You didn’t help,” Peaches snapped, then relented byinches. “But it was those nightmares sent her off.”
“Nightmares?” Nadine echoed. “What are you talking about? Is that what he was gonna help her with, nightmares? What the hell would a contractor know aboutnightmares?”
“She didn’t tell you, did she?” Peaches demanded, as ifit were Nadine’s fault. “She never tells anybody. She started her nursing in Vietnam. Seems she never really got over it.”
Tony found a map of Virginia in the top file drawer andturned for the door. “Nobody really does,” he said, moreto himself.
“Vietnam?” Nadine demanded. “No way.”
“You keep calling,” Tony said, his attention on the map, which had markings all over it, most of them wandering in the same direction. “I’m going to drive and see if I can findher.”
He was heading out the office door when Johnny appeared, truck keys dangling from his hand like a taunt, Petestanding in his shadow.
“I’m going, too,” the boy said.
“No need for that,” Peaches instinctively said.
Tony knew better.
“I’m going,” Johnny repeated. “She’s my mother.”
“Has she ever done this before?” Tony asked.
Johnny almost backed off. “Not since we’ve been here.”
“When, then?”
The boy shrugged, looked down. “Sometimes... like after Dad died. When she got real quiet.”
Tony nodded. “Okay, tell you what. Why don’t you and Pete head on up along the route your mom takes to work?In case she had car trouble. You want my car phone?”
“I have a CB in the truck.”
“Call Peaches with updates, okay?”
