Every Fifteen Minutes (23 page)

“What is the nature of your emergency?” asked the female dispatcher, and Eric recognized her voice from before. Radnor was a small township, so it wasn't completely unexpected.

“This is Dr. Parrish calling. You remember, I called you about my minor patient, the suicide risk. Max Jakubowski. I still can't locate him. Have there been any calls from him or in reference to him?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“You would know if somebody was going out on a call regarding him, wouldn't you? It's not that large a police force, and you can't get that many calls.”

“Dr. Parrish, it isn't procedure to discuss the calls that come in.”

“Just tell me this, you're the only dispatcher, aren't you?”

“No, there is one other. May I put you through to the squad room so you can ask them your questions? This line is for emergencies only.”

“Thank you, please do.” Eric sped through the darkened streets, planning his next move, driven by an urgency that was more than professional. Partly he felt responsible for Max, and partly he knew that the boy had no one else to rely on. Eric pressed the gas and accelerated forward into the darkness.

“This is Officer Melanie Nathan. How can I help you?”

“Officer Nathan, I am Chief of Psychiatry at Havemeyer General and I'm trying to locate a minor patient named Max Jakubowski, who I believe is a suicide risk. His grandmother died tonight and he disappeared. Officer Gambia went to look for him at the house, but he wasn't there, only his mother.”

“What is the location of the residence?”

Eric told her. “He lives there with his mother and grandmother but his mother doesn't know where he is, either.”

“What is her name?”

Eric told her that too. “I spoke with his mother and she's not much help.”

“When was he first reported missing?”

“I called at around six thirty but I don't know if he's been officially reported missing yet. I'd like to do that right now, if I could.”

“When was he expected home?”

“He wasn't expected at any time. He was home. His grandmother died and he was home with her alone, then he left abruptly and no one knows where he went.”

“And what time was that, Dr. Parrish?”

“Around six o'clock,” Eric repeated, tense.

“This evening?”

“Yes.”

“That's too soon for him to be considered a missing person, as you probably know.”

“I understand that, but time is of the essence with a patient under this kind of stress. I need to know if he called or if any of the other officers got an emergency call involving him.”

“I have no knowledge of that, Doctor.”

“But you would know if Max called or a call came in about him, wouldn't you? He's a teenage boy. How many calls about a teenage boy can you get on a weeknight in Radnor?”

“I will ask around the squad room and get back to you. May I have your number?”

“Thanks.” Eric gave her the number, they both said their good-byes, and he hung up, then dialed Laurie's cell phone and waited for her to pick up.

“Eric?” Laurie asked, concerned. “What's happening?”

“Max still hasn't shown up, and I need your help.”

“You want me to see if he's in any of the other EDs?”

“Yes, please.” It was just what Eric had been thinking. “I'm assuming he didn't come into ours?”

“No, he didn't. I would've called you. I checked in twice and told them to call me if they had any word of him. Did you try the police?”

“Yes, in Radnor Township, but so far, no word.”

“I know a lot of uniforms in Chester County and Delaware County. Let me see what I can find out.”

“Thank God for you,” Eric said, meaning it. It felt good to have help.

“Where are you? What are you doing?”

“Looking for him.”

“How? Where? Do you want company?”

“No thanks,” Eric said, touched. “You're helping me more by making those calls. I have one last move.”

“What is it?”

“Tell you later, if it pans out. Got to go.”

“Sure thing, call me later. I'm up watching Jimmy Fallon. He's my new television crush. That's how pathetic my life is lately.”

“Bye.” Eric smiled as he hung and turned into the parking lot and pulled into the first available space. SWIRLED PEACE, read the multicolored sign; it was where Ren
é
e Bevilacqua worked. Eric was following a hunch that the only lifeline Max had was Ren
é
e, and it was possible that the boy would find his way here. Max could be sitting here in his car this very moment—crying, grieving, and every fifteen minutes, tapping his forehead.

Eric cut the ignition, knowing that being here was a boundary violation. Still, he couldn't
not
come, given that he'd tried everything else and the downside risk could be Max's suicide. He twisted around, grabbed his old blue ball cap from the backseat, and popped it on, an improvised disguise. He didn't want Max to recognize him or he might take off.

He looked over at the frozen yogurt stop, which was a free-standing box in the middle of the asphalt lot. Cars parked in an upside-down U-shape around its sides and back, leaving both the right and left aisles for entrance and exit. Most of the parking spaces in the front lot were full, and a crowd of teenagers hung in front of the shop, which had a concrete patio with picnic tables and rainbow-striped umbrellas.

Eric kicked himself for not asking Marie what type of car Max drove, but he looked around to see if there was anybody sitting in a car, in the driver's seat. He looked to his right, and there was no one in the line of cars next to him, but he couldn't see the farthest car clearly, probably eight away. There were two shadows in the front seat in the seventh car, a couple.

He adjusted his outside mirror and used it to see the single line of cars parked down the middle aisle, but nobody was in them. He swiveled his rearview mirror and aimed it at the cars on the rightmost side of the lot, but it was too dark to see inside them. He realized that if Max had come here to follow Ren
é
e home, he could be parked behind the shop, in order to wait without drawing suspicion.

Eric could wait until closing time to see if Max would flush himself out, but the closing time was eleven. He'd never forgive himself if Max hurt himself between now and then, in a car parked only yards away. He slipped the keys from the ignition, unclipped his seatbelt, and got out of the car, closing the door behind him. He double-checked the parking lot out front, but didn't see anybody sitting in the cars on the rightmost row. He kept his head down and walked past the cars and teenagers, then kept going beyond the shop. Cars were parked against the back fence, rear-bumper side out, and they ended in a blue Dumpster on the right.

Eric walked along the rear bumpers, and nobody was sitting in the cars, except for a couple in the middle car, making out in the driver's seat. He kept going and turned right around the shop, walking the rightmost side of the upside-down U, and the only occupied car was a minivan full of kids, eating frozen yogurt while they watched a DVD glowing from the back of the seats. Eric turned and looked inside the shop. Families and teenagers milled around inside, and the store was brightly lit. Max wasn't inside, but there were three shop girls behind the counter and a fourth at the cash register, in tie-dyed long aprons over SWIRLED PEACE T-shirts and jeans. One was a redhead. It had to be Ren
é
e.

Eric found himself opening the door to the shop. Stainless-steel self-service frozen yogurt machines gleamed in an area to the right, next to stacked bowls and cups, and except for the cashier, the employees circulated among the crowd, helping customers work the self-serve fro-yo machines. Eric zeroed in on Ren
é
e, who fit Max's description of her: a petite young girl with a moptop of short dark red curls pulled back from her face with a skinny pink ribbon. She was naturally pretty, with a fresh-faced charm, blue eyes, and an easy smile. She must have felt Eric's eyes on her, because she turned to him and made her way over.

“Do you need help, sir?” Ren
é
e asked, cocking her head.

“Uh, yes.” Eric tried to get his act together. If he looked up “boundary violation” in the dictionary, there would be a picture of him talking to Ren
é
e. He spotted the gold necklace around her neck, the one Max liked.

“You haven't been here before, have you?”

“No, I haven't.”

“I figured, because new people get intimidated on their first time. The prices are by weight, and it's all self-serve.” Ren
é
e gestured to the lineup of machines, each with a double spout, labeled Vanilla, Belgian Chocolate, Banana, and Blueberry. “Which flavor would you like? You can mix two of them, we call that the Swirl-Away, and you can even mix three, which is called the Swirlwind Romance. Four flavors is the Tilt-A-Swirl.” Ren
é
e rolled her eyes in a goofy way. “The manager makes us say that. He thinks it's really funny.”

“It is, kind of.” Eric could see why Max had a crush on her because she was so warm and relaxed, and it must have put the boy at ease.

“So what flavor would you like? And do you want a large, medium, or small?”

“Medium, vanilla.” Eric was thinking of Hannah, who loved vanilla ice cream and could make distinctions between Ben & Jerry's, Haagen-Dazs, and Turkey Hill.

“You want me just to do it for you?” Ren
é
e took a medium cup from the stack. “We're not that busy.”

“Thanks, yes, I appreciate it.” Eric took a flyer. “You look familiar to me. I drop my daughter off at PerfectScore and I think I've seen you there with your mother.”

“I go there! They're the best!” Ren
é
e held the cup under the spout, grabbed the lever, and twisted it up and over.

“I think they have a few different tutors, but she gets tutored by a guy named Max.”

“So do I!” Ren
é
e grinned as she twisted the yogurt dispenser, his Styrofoam dish in hand. “He's so smart. He's, like, a genius!”

“That's what my daughter says, too. She likes him.”

“I like him, too. He's shy and super-nerdy, but he's a nice guy.”

Eric felt reassured to think that Ren
é
e liked Max, then realized that was probably inappropriate. It struck him that maybe it was countertransference, after all. “What days do you go to tutoring?”

“Wednesday and Saturday.”

“Oh, so you haven't seen him today?”

“No.” Ren
é
e turned the cup as frozen yogurt coiled inside. “What's your daughter's name?”

“Hannah,” Eric blurted out, because he was a terrible liar.

“Where does she go to school? I go to Sacred Heart.”

“She goes to public school.” Eric wanted a story Ren
é
e couldn't verify.

“Sweet! You want toppings, don't you? Follow me, sir.” Ren
é
e led him to the toppings case, where there stood another employee, a tall young African-American woman with bright blue hair and a nose ring. Ren
é
e waved her down happily. “Trix, incoming!”

“Cool!” Trixie smiled.

Ren
é
e turned to Eric. “Sir, this is Trixie and she's in charge of toppings. She goes to PerfectScore too, but she doesn't have Max.”

“Oh, hi,” Eric said, surprised, though he shouldn't have been. PerfectScore was only five minutes away, and it made sense that local girls worked here.

Ren
é
e continued, “Trix, we were just talking about Max and how smart he is.” She turned to Eric. “We don't think the tutor she has is as good he is.”

Trixie stuck out her lower lip. “Totally, my tutor's all about the practice tests, but I can do the practice tests myself. Max is way better. He teaches Ren
é
e tricks, like, for the problems.”

“That's what my daughter says,” Eric said, before anybody asked him any more questions.

“Okay, well, I'll leave you to it,” Ren
é
e said, waving a hand airily.

“Thanks,” Eric said, as she went to help other customers.

Trixie smiled at him. “Sir, you can choose as many toppings as you like, and the price list is there on the wall.”

Eric chose strawberries and M&Ms, also Hannah's favorite, paid almost seven dollars, left the shop, and walked to the car, his head wheeling around to see if Max were here. So far, it didn't look like he was, and Eric went back to his car, chirped it unlocked, got inside, and ate the yogurt while he considered his next move. Max hadn't come yet, but he could still show up. Eric had nothing else to go on, no other idea where Max could be, and just like Max, nothing was waiting for him at home. He ate his yogurt absently, and his gaze fell on the parking lots of the other stores on this side of the street: a Walgreens, a drive-through Dunkin' Donuts, and a Hill's Seafood. Max could be in any one of those lots, waiting for Renée to get off work. In fact, it was probably likelier that Max was in one of those lots because it would be easier to go unnoticed.

Eric decided to wait it out, until eleven o'clock. The cars came and went, minivans and pickups, newer models and old, and as darkness fell completely, it was impossible to keep track or to discern anybody sitting in the cars, waiting. He felt increasingly worried, wondering where Max could be. He sensed it would shake out closer to eleven o'clock. He would have to bide his time.

He replayed his conversation with Max, then with Marie. She had been worse than Eric had imagined, and it was easy to understand how Max's life would fall apart now that his grandmother was gone. Eric could help Max if he could get to him before it was too late, and it made him sick to think that all he could do was sit in a car and wait, but it was his only bet.