Chapter Twelve

Gerry tossed his empty Bohemia bottle in the air and caught it. "I'm going to go get me another one. Anyone else thirsty?"

Both men shook their heads. As soon as Gerry was out of earshot, Brent asked, "What do you want to do now?"

Joe toyed with his empty beer bottle, picking at the damp label. "Track down this Perry guy. If he gave her a new name, we won't be able to find her any other way. Maybe he'll know something about her plans, too."

Brent nodded. "If we can do that and lean on Sylvia to tell us what she knows, we ought to be able to find her without too much trouble."

Joe set the bottle on the table and leaned back, stretching his arms over his head. "Maybe I ought to be the one to talk to her this time."

"Go for it," Brent said. "I'm willing to try anything at this point."

Joe spotted Sylvia near the kitchen door, talking on her phone while she counted a wad of bills. He wandered over and leaned against the wall, watching as she smoothed each bill and turned them all to face the same direction. "Well," she said into the phone, "I can hold them for you another day, but if we run out and you haven't shown up for yours, you know Gerry'll sell them." She listened a moment, nodding. "I'd bring them to you if I could, but my car is in the shop right now, and Gerry's truck is acting funny. Last thing I need is to break down on the side of the road with your rocks in the glovebox." Sylvia noticed Joe watching her. "You need something?"

"Whenever you're through."

Sylvia frowned and returned to her call. "Listen, I've got to go. Just do what you can, okay? I'll hold onto it as long as Gerry lets me. Bye." She stuffed her bills in her jeans pocket. "What's up?"

Joe folded his arms across his chest. "I want to start by thanking you for your hospitality. You and Gerry have been pretty generous, considering how we barged in, but let's you and me cut the bullshit. Elise was here today. You set her up with someone who could help her sell her car, change her name, and who knows what all kinds of other stuff. Now she's gone. You know where she went, though, and I think it's about time you told me."

Sylvia scowled. "Elise is a very old friend, okay? She told me if anyone came around looking for her, not to say anything. I don't snitch on my friends." She caught sight of Gerry coming out of the kitchen with a fresh Bohemia. "Unlike some people, who seem to think everything that happens around this place is worth blabbing on the streets to everyone."

Gerry heard her taunting words, as Sylvia intended him to. "What are you complaining about now?"

"You and your big fucking mouth that I wish you'd learn to keep shut."

"Hey, I didn't say a word about where she went. I told them she had been here, but that was all."

Sylvia rolled her eyes. "I thought I told you not to say anything to anyone."

"You did, but come on, Sylvia-- these guys care about her. They deserve to at least know she's been here."

"This isn't about deserving, it's about keeping your word."

"I didn't promise anything."

"You did, too. You are such a fucking liar, Gerry."

"Who are you calling a liar? At least I didn't tell these guys Elise hadn't been here and I didn't know what they were talking about."

"So what did you tell them?"

"Just that she'd been here, that was all."

"Bullshit. You told them she sold the car. You told them about Perry, too."

Gerry shook his head. "I can't believe you think I'd tell them that."

"Then how'd they know about the phony papers?"

"Okay, so what if I did tell them? Is it the end of the world or something? They're still not going to find her."

"They better not."

Joe butted in. "What is so god-awful about me wanting to know where my wife is?" He looked around the room, taking in the silent stares of Sylvia's guests. "Will somebody please just tell me where Elise went?"

The room was silent for a moment. The redheaded girl had been staring at Joe, but now dropped her gaze to her mirror and smiled at her reflection. "She went to the hospital."

Sylvia jumped in front of her, hampering Joe's efforts to get close. "Can't you see she's fucked up? That girl doesn't even know what day it is, let alone where your wife--"

Joe shoved Sylvia out of the way and knelt beside the redhead. "What do you mean she went to the hospital?" Joe asked. "You mean Elise, right? Pretty girl, black hair?"

The girl was staring into her mirror again. "She's not as pretty as me." She pointed to her reflection. "I should be a movie star."

"Yes, you should," Joe agreed. "So which hospital did Elise go to?"

The girl was lost again in her dreams though, gazing into her own eyes. "I'm so pretty I could be a model. Someone should take a picture of me."

Joe grabbed her by the shoulder and shook her, but Brent pulled him away. "Forget it. She's so high her brain is completely pulverized." He turned on Sylvia, who had been watching the whole scene, biting her lip. "Come on, which hospital did Elise go to? See if you can tell us the truth."

Sylvia tossed her head. "Ask somebody else. Seems like just about everybody in here is willing to spill their guts to you, anyway." She turned sharply, brushed past Gerry and stomped off down the hall.

Gerry took a step toward the two men, then stopped and looked at his feet. "We had somebody take her to the emergency room at St. Jude Thaddeus," he confessed.

"The emergency room?" Joe grabbed Gerry by the arm. "What for? Is she sick? Is she hurt?"

Gerry shrugged. "She'll be all right, I think. She didn't really want to go, but I insisted."

"What happened?"

The girl sitting on the sofa, who had been asleep earlier but was now watching the developments with interest, spoke up. "She wasn't feeling too good. She wouldn't really say what was wrong, but she seemed to be in a lot of pain."

Gerry nodded. "Yeah, it was pretty freaky. Since she was on her own and all, I told her not to take any chances and get checked out. It's not like she couldn't afford it, since she made a bundle selling that car of hers." He shrugged. "We had a friend just fixing to leave, and he said he'd drop her off at St. Jude's since he was going that way."

Brent and Joe looked at each other solemnly. "Let's get out of here," Brent said.

"I'll get our coats." Joe hurried over to the table and returned a minute later wearing his plaid jacket and carrying Brent's coat in his arms. "We can be at St. Jude's in fifteen minutes if we hurry and the traffic is in our favor."

Gerry followed them to the door. "Good luck!"