The Buck Stops Here (23 page)

“We’re so thrilled Tommy’s finally going to give Family HEARTS some more money,” she said as she helped her son into his chair. “And just in time for our big fundraiser too.”

Tommy?
She called him
Tommy?

“Provided the approval process goes well,” I said. “Did you say
more
money? Has he donated before?”

“Oh, of course,” Veronica replied. “He gave us the seed money to get started. But this will be his first donation since then.”

The waiter appeared at our table and we placed our drink orders, the three kids piping up simultaneously to ask for Shirley Temples. Everyone at the table, in fact, exhibited such easy familiarity that I had a feeling they dined out together frequently. Even Beth dropped some of her shyness and loosened up. I commented that the children seemed to get along well.

“Oh, we’ve all known each other forever,” Veronica said. “My family grew up next door to their family. Miz Irene was like a second mama to me.”

“You grew up around here somewhere?”

“No, over in the city. Beth and the kids moved out here last year.”

“Thanks to my brother’s generosity in getting us a house,” Beth said softly.

“It’s a lovely home,” Irene added. “I had a stroke last fall, so I’ve been staying with them since then.”

“We want Grandma to always live with us forever,” Leah proclaimed.

“We moved her in so that I could help her,” Beth said, glancing at her mother, “but now she’s a tremendous help to me. I don’t know what we’d do without her.”

“Well, it’s not like I’m moving out tomorrow,” Irene said to Beth. To me she added, “My house in the city is still closed up, though I do have a woman in to dust and vacuum once a month.”

I was disappointed, as I had hoped to visit Irene in the home where Tom grew up, just to get a glimpse of his past.

“How about you, Phillip?” I asked, pulling him into the conversation. “When did you come into the picture?”

“Not until graduate school, actually,” he said, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin. As beautiful as his wife was, he was not similarly attractive. His pale cheeks bore the scars of what must have been some really bad teenage acne; he also had small eyes, close together, and a rather bulbous nose. He did, however, have that “power” thing going for him, which I knew some women found very attractive. Between his elegantly cut suit and his aristocratic air, I could see how a woman like Veronica could be drawn to him. “Beth and I worked together on a few projects, and then I made friends with Tom, and then through them I met Veronica.”

He flashed a smile toward his wife, but she was too busy helping Tucker with his napkin to notice.

“I understand you and Tom worked together?”

“And Beth,” Phillip added, nodding. “All three of us. Well, there were five of us actually, but that was a long time ago. A lifetime ago.”

This time when he flashed Veronica a look, she caught it.

“So, Callie,” she said, obviously changing the subject. “Tell us about yourself. You live in Washington, D.C.?”

I let her guide the conversation, providing answers to her questions without really giving up a lot of information. I was eager to bring the conversation back around to the past, but they seemed just as determined to keep it in the present.

Talk turned to their organization, Family HEARTS, and its mission of providing hope and support to families of children with rare diseases. They spoke glowingly about the group and its mission, describing for me the plight of such families, their isolation and confusion and devastation.

“We provide a lot of different services,” Veronica said, “but our most important function, by far, is to connect people with other people. Sometimes these families feel like they are the only souls on the planet going through something like this. It helps to bring them into the fold, to connect them with others who are going through the exact same thing.”

The way she talked, I could envision a vast, nationwide network of love and support and guidance. Suddenly, I was eager to take on this charity investigation for its own sake.

“What’s your involvement with the organization, Beth?” I asked, remembering that she was listed on the contact sheet as a volunteer.

She glanced at Maddie and then back at me.

“Well, first as a client,” she said. “Then as a volunteer. Phillip and I run the computer network. I also maintain the website and do other computer-related functions for them.”

“A client?” I asked, confused.

“I have JDMS,” Maddie announced.

“JDMS?”

“Juvenile dermatomyositis. Only one in a million kids have it.”

My pulse surged. Maddie had a rare disease? Tom had never said anything about that.

Beth went on to describe Maddie’s disorder, an autoimmune disease that caused her body to attack its own healthy tissue, particularly in the muscles. They were obviously comfortable talking about it in front of the child, who seemed very matter-of-fact about the whole thing, but I decided to bring it up again later when we were alone and I could ask more pointed questions.

“She was diagnosed when she was in kindergarten,” Beth continued. “For a long time, we struggled all on our own. Then Veronica got involved, and she was such a godsend for me that eventually I talked her into helping others the same way. About a year later, Family HEARTS was born. With Tom’s financial help, they were eventually able to take it nationwide.”

“And the word ‘HEARTS’ stands for…”

“Help, Encouragement, Advocacy, Resources, Treatments, and Services,” Veronica said. “It’s kind of hard to explain everything that we do, but you’ll learn more when you come into the office.”

We made arrangements for me to do that first thing in the morning. I asked Irene about her involvement there, but she said she was simply on the board of directors and not involved with the day-to-day activities.

“But it’s a top-notch group,” she said, smiling proudly at those of us assembled around the table. “Tom couldn’t find a better organization to support with his money.”

“Well, I look forward to conducting a full investigation,” I said, raising my glass. “Here’s to a successful grant process.”

“Hear, hear!” Phillip cried.

One by one, we all clinked glasses, the mood around the table jubilant. For a while, at least, I forgot that the Family HEARTS investigation was the very least of my concerns, but merely a tool to get to know the people around the table.

Twenty-Six

My cell phone rang as the waiter was serving dessert, a decadent plate of pecan pie topped with caramel sauce. I glanced at the screen and recognized the number as that of my computer hacker in Seattle. I excused myself from the table, stepped outside onto the deck, and answered the call. As I did, the full reality of the situation came slamming down on me once again.

“Callie,” Paul said. “I was just about to hang up.”

“What’s happening?”

“I got somebody for you.”

It took a moment for my mind to catch up, to remember that he had been looking for someone local who could analyze the mysterious asthma inhaler I had stolen from the carport of the prison guard in Georgia.

“In New Orleans?”

“Sort of,” he said. “This guy lives about an hour away in a town called Hammond. He’s a student at a college there.”

“Okay.”

“I just talked to him. He said if you can bring it over today, he’ll get to it this week.”

I stepped toward the rail, surprised that no one else was out here enjoying the warm May sunshine.

“Is he safe?” I asked softly, certain that Paul would know what I meant.

“Yes,” he replied. “He’s done some work for my buddy. Very reliable, very discreet. Also very expensive.”

“How much?”

“Five hundred dollars. Plus fifty to the friend who made the connection, and fifty to me.”

I let out a low whistle but, in the end, I agreed to the asking price. After all, what choice did I have? I jotted down the guy’s information and thanked Paul for his help. As soon as we hung up, I called the fellow and reconfirmed the information and the address, telling him I would probably be heading out in a half hour at the most.

Back inside, I apologized for the interruption and then retook my place at the table. Suddenly, I realized I had lost my appetite for dessert. I took a bite and then pushed the plate away.

“Don’t you like the pie?” Irene asked me after a while.

“It’s wonderful, but I’m quite full,” I said. “I’ll take it in a doggie bag.”

“Good idea. I’m sure your suite has a refrigerator.”

“Suite, huh?” Veronica asked. “So which of Tommy’s hotels did he put you up in?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your hotel. I assume Tommy put you in one of the ones he owns. So which is it? Place de Coeur? Hotel St. Jacques? The Marquis?”

“Tom owns all of those?” I asked, finally understanding what he meant when he said
They know me
at the place I was staying. No wonder they were all so solicitous—I was a special guest of the owner! “I’m at the Place de Coeur.”

The twins wanted to go out on the deck, and so I excused myself and walked out with them. We brought a leftover roll and they took turns tearing off tiny pieces and throwing them into the water.

“Gators live in there,” Leah said. “Sometimes they’ll come if you feed them.”

“They won’t come for bread,” Maddie corrected. “They’d rather have a big rotten chicken or something gross like that.”

“Or marshmallows,” Leah added. “Sometimes they like to eat marshmallows.”

I looked out at the beautiful, peaceful river and tried to imagine alligators in it. Just then, a pleasure boat rode past, the family on board in bathing suits and T-shirts.

“There aren’t really alligators in this river, are there?” I asked the twins. “I mean, people go swimming here and everything.”

“Oh, sure,” Leah said. “The gators won’t bother you. They’re lazy.”

“They’re cold-blooded,” Maddie corrected. “If you ever see them, they’re hardly moving at all.”

“Do people ever get bitten?” I asked, shuddering at the thought of coming face-to-face with an alligator, even if it was lazy.

“Just stay away from their nests,” Leah told me sagely. “They’ll leave you alone unless you threaten their young.”

“Or if you bump into one accidentally,” Maddie added. “Then it might snap your arm off!”

They went on to tell me about a school trip they had taken recently to a local alligator and turtle farm. The animals were sorted by age and size, with the cutest little baby alligators kept in tiny ponds—and the biggest, nastiest, oldest ones in big, fenced-in pits.

The other adults joined us at that point, my alligator lesson concluded for the day. In the water all manner of fish had surrounded the bread crumbs we had tossed in and were fighting over them, which created a swirl of turbulence. Phillip held his son up against the rail so that he could see, and Tucker kept pointing at the water and saying “Fishies! Fishies!” He was an adorable boy, with big eyes and his mother’s full lips.

Once the fish were gone, we all strolled around the side of the building to the parking lot and said our farewells. We had already made plans for the next day, with my formal introduction to Family HEARTS scheduled for first thing in the morning. For now, though Irene invited me back to her house for coffee, I begged off, saying I had some errands I needed to run.

In the car I thought about what a pleasant meal that had been, despite my flares of jealousy toward Veronica. She wasn’t that bad, I had to admit, just beautiful. And I also liked Beth, despite her shyness, as well as Irene. Had things worked out differently for me and Tom, this might have been the second time in my life that I married into a family I could really embrace as my own.

The GPS sent me west on the interstate about twenty miles until I reached the Hammond exit. After turning right, I passed a big shopping center and continued all the way into town. I spotted a charming little train station ahead on the right, and then made several quick turns that put me onto the campus of Southeastern Louisiana University.

We were meeting at a place called the “Friendship Oak.” I passed several campus buildings and then followed a wide curve lined with parking places. I pulled into a spot that sat in the shade of some tall trees, thinking this had to be one of the prettier college campuses I had seen. The terrain was very flat, but the trees were huge and the buildings quite gracious.

Though there was no sign, it wasn’t hard to recognize the Friendship Oak. It was a gigantic oak tree that sat in the center of the circle, its branches so huge and heavy that in many places they grew all the way down to the ground and then back up again. Thick green leaves formed a canopy overhead, and moss hung down from every limb. In the center, around the massive trunk, was a wide, curved bench. Sitting on the bench was a young man of about 20. I walked over to him and spoke softly.

“Hi, are you Hydro?” I asked, thinking of the code name Paul had told me to use.

“Yep,” he replied. “You the Pink Panther?”

Paul had thought he was being funny by giving us these names, but neither one of us was smiling now.