The Mortal Groove (30 page)

“Oh my God,” she whispered, knowing immediately who the child was. “You found her.”

Peter's smile was so dazzling, it could have lit up the entire city. “Jane, I'd like you to meet Mia.”

“Mia? Not Margaret?”

“It's the name she goes by now.”

The little girl stopped and picked up the dog, who seemed to be right at home in her arms. Jane also assumed it was Mia's way of putting some space between herself and a total stranger.

“Hi, Mia,” said Jane, bending down to her level.

Mia wouldn't meet her eyes.

Jane gazed up at Peter.

“She can't hear you, Janey.”

“She's . . . deaf?”

“Yeah, but she can read lips. And she knows how to sign. Unfortunately, I don't. We've been communicating mostly by writing things down.”

Jane held out her hand. When Mia finally met her eyes, she said very slowly, “I'm Jane. Peter's sister. I'm very happy to meet you.”

Mia didn't respond.

“Nolan got me a copy of the file New Jersey Child Protection had on her,” said Peter. “From what I read, I wasn't sure what was wrong. I thought maybe she might be retarded, or learning impaired. But she's incredibly smart.”

And clearly in love with the little dog, thought Jane. “Can I pet him?” she asked, holding her hand over the dog's head.

Mia bit her lower lip and nodded.

“It's a
her”
said Peter. “Name's Teacake.”

Jane shook the dog's paw.

Mia stepped back closer to Peter, grabbed hold of the sleeve of his jacket.

“She's very slow to let you in,” said Peter. “But we're working on it.

Jane held the door open for them.

Once inside, Mia tiptoed forward, gazing around cautiously.

“Hope she's not terrified by Swedish modern furniture,” said Peter, adding, “like I am.”

Mia seemed to be fascinated by the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking downtown Minneapolis. She walked up to them and stood looking outside for almost a minute, then turned and sat down on Cordelia's newest Ikea purchase, a white leather ARILD armchair. Teacake jumped into her arms as Mouse trotted out from the back of the loft, followed by Blanche, the matriarch of Cordelia's cat colony.

Mia set Teacake down so that she and Mouse could sniff each other.

“She's got a way with animals,” said Peter, sitting down on an orange love seat that looked like it belonged in a bus terminal. “Seems to really understand them.”

Mia let Mouse sniff her hands. When he seemed ready, she petted his head very softly, scratched under his chin. She didn't smile, but some of the hardness in her expression had disappeared.

Blanche, the most doglike cat Jane had ever known, jumped into Mia's lap and settled down, ready to be adored.

“If she likes animals,” said Jane, “she's come to the right place. She's beautiful, Peter. But so serious.”

“She's had a hellish life. I stole her—kidnapped her right off the street not three blocks from her foster home. And I don't regret it, not for a minute. The family she was living with was a nightmare. I don't know what Child Protective Services was thinking, letting her live in a situation like that. At night, while we were on the road, we'd sit on one of the beds in the motel room and write things to each other. I asked her about what it was like in her foster home, but she doesn't want to talk about it. It'll take time, I suppose.”

Jane put her arms around her brother, squeezed him tight. But her joy was tempered by an even greater concern.

“Do you think I made a mistake?” he asked.

“I don't know,” said Jane, stepping back. “I agree you rescued her, but what if the police come after you? Kidnapping across state lines is a federal offense.”

“Believe me, Janey, nobody from New Jersey will ever come looking for her. Child Protective Services hasn't even checked on her in over a year. And besides, Mia tried to run away not too long ago. The cops brought her back. I figure that this time, they'll think she succeeded. She'll just be one more lost kid. Nobody's got the money or interest to go looking for all the lost kids in this country.”

“But . . . if, all of a sudden, you and Sigrid just show up with a child, what will you tell people?”

“That we adopted her.”

“But if you don't have the court papers—”

“We'll get them. You can buy them, Jane, it's not hard. We'll get away with it, I know we will. Mia is a throwaway kid. She was lost the minute she entered that child welfare system. I found her, Jane. And I'm not letting her go back there. Ever.”

Considering the potential trouble Peter might be in, Jane felt
more than a little conflicted, and vet he seemed so determined that, for the moment, she let the subject drop. “Have you talked to Sigrid?”

“No. I've kept her in the dark about all of this. I had to. I didn't know if I'd ever find Mia, so I never said anything, and then when Nolan located her, I couldn't break it to Siggy over the phone.”

“Sure, that makes sense.”

“Mia and I have been on the road for three days. Honestly, we've had a great time. We stopped at some stores in Pennsylvania and I bought her all new clothes, shoes, socks, hair barrettes. Even some perfume. She likes to read, so we found a children's bookstore along the way. Bought the first
Harry Potter.
One
Lemony Snicket.
And three from
The Black Stallion
series. That's her favorite so far. And Teacake, I mean, she's a great dog, good in the car, good in the motel rooms. She was a stray, but completely house-trained. I got lucky when I found her.”

Cordelia appeared at the top of the stairs leading down from her bedroom. She'd been at the hospital late last night, so Jane was a little surprised to see her up so early. She glared a moment, then moved trancelike down the steps to the main level. “And who do we have here?” she intoned, sounding about as friendly as the wicked witch in
The Wizard of Oz.
She was wearing her red silk dragon robe, her arms folded over her ample bosom.

Mia didn't turn her head, but she did look at her sideways. She seemed more startled than frightened.

“Holy stars and garters!” said Peter, breaking into an amazed grin. “I leave for five minutes and someone steals your hair.”

“How droll.” She walked up to Mia, stared down at her with an austere look, then gave her a broad wink. “Thorn, Cordelia—with a C. And you are?”

Taking in Cordelia's height, size, and dress, Mia's jaw dropped at least an inch. She spelled her name using sign language.

Cordelia's eyebrow inched upward. “Ah, I see.” She signed something back. They signed for a few more seconds, and then Cordelia sat down in the chair next to her. Teacake jumped into her lap.

“How is it possible that I never knew you could sign?” said Jane, hands rising to her hips.

“There are many things you do not know about me, Jane dear. I am multilayered. Labyrinthine in my complexity. Possibly even unknowable in all my infinite variety. And also, we got a woman at the theater who signs for the hearing impaired. She's been teaching me for years.”

“Incredible,” said Peter. “Maybe you can teach me.”

“Little Miss Mia is adorable,” said Cordelia. She winked at her again, her expression still dour.

This time, Mia almost smiled.

“You know,” said Peter, “you're such a natural with kids it's amazing to me to think you spent most of your life hating them.”

“So how are you planning to proceed?” said Jane. “I assume you're going to tell Sigrid right away.”

“Tonight,” said Peter. “I thought, if you didn't mind, I'd leave Mia here for a few hours. I know it's a lot to ask, but could one of you take care of her?”

Cecily walked sleepily out from the rear of the loft. She had on a light blue sweatshirt that came almost to her knees. “What's all the commotion?” Her eyes landed on Mia. “Who's that?”

“Long story,” said Cordelia. “You didn't have anything planned for the rest of the day, did you?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Good. Then Cecily and I will take care of the child, Peter. Not to worry. I've taken a leave of absence from the theater for a couple of weeks, so my time is my own.”

“Wonderful. Do you have a piece of paper and a pen? I need to explain this to Mia.”

“Not necessary.” Cordelia turned to the little girl. As she signed, she spoke out loud. “Mia, Peter has to run and do some errands, so I was hoping you could stay here with me for a few hours. I'm Peter's good friend. That funny-looking woman over there with the long brown hair is Jane, Peter's sister. The other woman wearing the blue sweatshirt is Cecily. While Peter is gone, we can play with the cats and dogs. And I've got a bigscreen TV and lots of movies to watch. Oh, and games, too. Do you play checkers? Or we could make some chocolate chip cookies. Do you like cookies?”

Mia nodded. She seemed mesmerized by Cordelia.

“Great, then it's a deal.” She held out her hand.

Mia shook it.

“God,” said Peter. “You're amazing.”

“I know.”

“Okay, I'm going to call Siggy and tell her I'm home, then I'm off to buy flowers, champagne, and food to make her a fabulous dinner.”

“She'll know something's up,” said Jane.

“That's fine with me. After I tell her about Mia, we'll come by and pick her up.”

“I want to be here when that happens,” said Jane. “I have to be at the Lyme House for the rest of the day. One of my managers is sick. Maybe you could give me a heads-up when you think you're heading over.”

“No problem,” said Peter. He couched down next to Mia and
took her hand. “I love you,” he said, making sure she was looking at his mouth. “I'll be back soon.”

She scowled, shook her head.

“It's okay, Mia. I promise you—word of honor—that I'll be back in a few hours. And I'll bring your mother with me. These people are all kind and good. You'll have a fun day and then I'll come get you and take you and Teacake home.” He hesitated, then said, “Will you let me hug you?”

She slid off her chair and threw her arms around his neck.

“Oh, my God,” he said, hoisting her up. “She's never done that before.” He kissed her and held her, closing his eyes, lost in the moment. When he finally set her back down, he reassured her again that he'd be back soon. “Cordelia will take good care of you,” he said, brushing a strand of blond hair away from her eyes. “Will you wait for me?”

She patted his beard, gave him a serious nod.

“Good girl.” He hugged her again, then said his good-byes to everyone else.

After he was gone, Mia picked up Teacake and sat down on the floor by the front door to do just what Peter had asked. Wait.

Jane's heart nearly broke.

“It'll be okay,” said Cordelia. “I've got a lot of ammunition in this loft to entertain a kid. Besides, if nothing else”—she spread her arms wide—“there's always the stupendousness of me.”

 

Jane was working the dining room at the restaurant that night, moving from table to table, greeting returning customers, welcoming new ones, when one of her waiters came up and told her she had a call that sounded urgent.

It had to be Peter. Jane quickly excused herself and returned
to her downstairs office. She pushed the blinking light on her intercom and said hello.

“Jane? It's Sigrid.”

“Oh, hi. How's—”

“Have you heard from Peter? He was supposed to be home tonight. He called me this morning before I left for work, said he'd fix us dinner. I got here around six, but his suitcase isn't in the closet, so I assume he's not back yet. I've called his cell at least half a dozen times, left messages, but he hasn't called back. Have you talked to him today? I think he was going to rent a car, drive back from Chicago. I'm starting to worry that something might have happened on the road. I mean, it's after eight.”

Jane pulled out her desk chair and sat down. “Yes, I spoke to him this morning.”

“Where was he?”

“I'm . . . not sure.” She had no clue how to handle this.

“Maybe I should call Dad, see if he's heard from him.”

“Sure, you could try that,” said Jane. “You're positive Peter hasn't been home?”

“The mail hasn't been touched. I chilled some beer in the fridge. None of that's gone. No dirty clothes in the hamper.”

“Huh,” said Jane, her mind searching the possibilities. “I know how excited he was to see you tonight.”

“Do you think he could've been in a car accident?”

“I suppose it's possible. But he had plenty of ID on him. If he was taken to a hospital, I'm sure one of us would've been contacted by now.”

“I don't like this,” said Sigrid. “Something's wrong. He would have called me if something had come up. He always lets me know where he is.”

Jane had a bad feeling, too. Somewhere between Cordelia's
loft and Peter and Sigrid's apartment, something had happened.

“Look, I don't mean to jump the gun, but maybe we should start calling hospitals.”

“Oh, lord.”

“I'll do it,” said Jane.

“No, let me. It's better than just sitting around worrying. He wouldn't have called Cordelia, would he?”

“I doubt it, but I'll check. If I hear anything, I'll call you back.”

“Is Cordelia even home tonight?”

“Yes,” said Jane, her heart sinking as she thought of Mia, of what would happen if something prevented Peter from coming to pick her up tonight.

Sigrid didn't say anything for a few seconds. “You don't think anything really bad happened to him, do you?”

“It's probably nothing. Just some mix-up. Maybe his cell phone is out of juice and he can't get to a phone.”