Patricia Rockwell - Essie Cobb 02 - Papoosed (23 page)

            “I checked with the local newspaper and with the place where Gerald worked.  I actually spoke with his father.  It appears the father didn’t even believe in the legality of Gerald and Maria’s marriage.  No one at the place where he worked seemed to be aware that the two were married … if they were.”

            “This doesn’t sound good,” said Clara.  “If the mother … this Maria Compton was anywhere where she could communicate, you would think her top priority would be to get to her baby … or at least get word to Santos where she was.”

            “Yes,” said Essie, “that’s why we’re afraid that maybe she’s injured or dead.”

            “Out on the side of a road somewhere,” said Clara.

            “Yes!” agreed Essie. “Or in the woods or some deserted place near her home.  When she ran out on Gerald, she may have fallen.”

            “She may be injured!”

            “Or dead,” reiterated Essie. 

            “Yes,” agreed Clara, “but the good news is that so far no one has reported discovering her body, so we have to proceed on the belief that she’s out there somewhere and just can’t make it back.”

            “That’s what I’m thinking,” said Essie, “that’s what Santos is thinking too.  He knows her well and he just doesn’t believe Maria would desert her child.”

            “Certainly not this child,” said Clara in a soft voice that Essie had never heard from her nosy neighbor.  Clara beamed down at the infant in her arms.

            “So, Clara,” said Essie, “do you have any suggestions as to where we might look next?  Where we might search for this little boy’s mother?”

            “I do,” replied Clara, “the one obvious place you haven’t looked.  A hospital.  If she’s injured, she may have found her way to a local hospital … or possibly some Good Samaritan helped her get to an emergency room.”

            “But, Clara, if she’s in a hospital,” suggested Essie, “surely she’d call Santos and let him know she’s all right.”

            “That’s just it,” said Clara.  “She may not be all right.  She may be in a hospital … unconscious or even in a coma!”

            “Just like Bob Weiderley was!” declared Essie.

            “Yes,” said Clara, “and if she is, it’s going to be a lot more difficult to track her down.”

            “Oh, no!” cried Essie.  “We can’t wait much longer before we’re going to have to report Antonio.”

            “Then aren’t you lucky you have Clara Monroe on your side!” said Clara, smiling at Essie over Antonio’s little forehead.

            “We certainly are!” replied Essie.  “Thank you, Clara!  You are certainly a revelation!”

            “Enough, Essie!” said Clara.  “Let’s get to work!  Give me your telephone book!”

            “Coming up!” said Essie.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“It is the nature of babies to be in bliss.”

–Deepak Chopra

            Clara made haste in locating the main number for the nearest hospital and quickly dialed while Essie cuddled Antonio.

            “Patient rooms,” she announced in her sharp little voice when the operator answered.  “I’d like the room of Maria Compton.”  She glanced at Essie as she waited for the operator to respond.  “Hmm,” she said in response to the voice on the other end.  “No Maria Compton?  Maybe I got the wrong hospital.  Yes, thank you.”  She hung up and then spoke to Essie.  “I can try other hospitals in the area, Essie, but something tells me that if the baby’s mother was injured near here, she would have gone to or would have been taken to Reardon General.  I’ll check just in case.” 

            As Essie continued to rock the baby and marvel that she was sitting in her living room being assisted in this secretive endeavor by her arch nemesis, Clara quickly used her finger to locate the main numbers for the three other hospitals in the Reardon area.  Within a few minutes, it was obvious that Maria Compton was not a patient at any of them either.

            “Don’t lose heart, Essie,” said Clara firmly.  “I’m not done yet.  It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since Maria went missing.  She could still be out there undiscovered … .”

            “Oh, Fred’s heads, I hope not!” moaned Essie.

            “Or,” added Clara, philosophically, “she might be in a hospital but unable to contact anyone.  She could be unconscious or injured so badly that she is unable to communicate.  And, remember, you said she left her wallet in her apartment when she took off abruptly, so if she was in an accident and taken to a hospital and is unable to talk, the hospital staff has no way of knowing who she is.”

            “What would they do in that case?” asked Essie.  She assumed Clara, as a former nurse, would be aware of procedures that would be followed.

            “Of course, the staff would do everything they could to determine who she is,” explained Clara, “but their first concern would be her health.  They would be trying to stabilize her or deal with her injuries if she has any.  Or if she’s in a coma, then, of course, they can’t ask her any questions.  There are all sorts of possibilities.  Once she’s stabilized, they will certainly try to determine who she is.”

            “But that might not be for … .” Essie speculated.

            “Well, not now, certainly,” said Clara.  She continued to clutch Essie’s telephone as if it might inspire her to action.

            “Can’t we call the hospital and ask if they have a patient like Maria who is unidentified?” asked Essie.

            “They won’t give us information like that, Essie,” said Clara.

            “And neither will the police,” replied Essie, “for the same reason.  I guess we’re stuck with trying to track her down ourselves and keeping Antonio hidden until we find her.”

            “This horrible snowstorm!” exclaimed Clara, as she rose and wandered over to Essie’s window.

            “I know,” agreed Essie.  “All I can think of is this poor baby’s mama lying on the ground somewhere out in this weather.”

            “If I were younger, I’d put on my boots and winter coat and go out looking for her myself,” said Clara.  She pulled two of the blinds apart so she could get a better view of the swirling snow.

            “Me too,” said Essie.  “But we can’t do that.  We’re just going to have to do what we can do and that is to take care of the baby and try to find his mother in other ways.”

            Another soft knock at the door was followed by the door opening a crack and Santos popped his head in.

            “Miss Essie?” he called out.  When he saw Clara Monroe standing by Essie’s window, he gasped and his eyes bulged out.  “Miss Clara?”

            “Come in, Santos,” said Essie, waving him in.  “Don’t worry; Clara is on our side.”

            Santos moved into the room carrying his fake food tray.  He gingerly moved over to Essie and was quickly joined by Clara.  Clara popped back down on the sofa, beside Essie who was holding the baby. 

            “So, you’re the source of all this brouhaha!” declared Clara in full investigatory mode.

            “Miss Clara,” began the young man, clutching the tray in front of him like a protective shield.

            “Don’t worry, Santos,” Essie broke in, “Clara has been helping me try to locate Maria.  I don’t think we need to worry about her finding out about Antonio.”

            Santos’ relaxed noticeably.  His eyes softened and his shoulders dropped.  “You find Maria, Miss Essie?” he asked anxiously.

            “No,” she replied sadly, “I’m afraid not.  Clara checked all the local hospitals, but Maria is not registered as a patient in any of them.  That doesn’t mean she’s not there.”

            “If she’s unconscious,” added Clara, “no one would know who she is.  And I understand that you found her wallet with her identification …”

            “
Si
,” replied Santos, “Maria does not need any … you say … identification … but green card.  Miss Essie has green card now.  So no one knows who Maria is if she cannot talk.”

            “That’s unfortunate,” noted Clara, drumming her fingers nervously on the edge of Essie’s sofa arm. 

            “We will continue to search for Maria,” said Essie to Santos as she gently rocked Antonio.  Santos stood forlornly before the two older women.  “Santos, please don’t lose faith.  I can’t help but believe that she’s out there and that we will find her.  In the mean time, we need to keep Antonio’s presence quiet just a little longer.  Did you find out anything about Lorena?”

            “
Si
,” replied Santos, “Miss Lorena comes to work on bus.  She says she gets last bus before snow close the … everything!.  Miss Lorena is not happy to stay here at Happy Haven all night on sleeping bag.  She call husband.  Husband not happy.  Husband have to take care of children …”

            “Yes, yes,” interrupted Essie, “but Lorena is here and she will be making her rounds?”

            “
Si,
” said Santos, nodding.  “But I hear Lorena say she is very busy and has to do other nurse’s work too.”

            “So she might be here later?  Or earlier?” asked Essie.

            “I do not know, Miss Essie,” he said.

            “Essie,” said Clara, “if you’re worried about your night nurse’s aide discovering Antonio, maybe we can work out an arrangement so I watch him while she’s here.  I do my own meds, so I don’t have a night aide.  You can bring him over to me.”

            “
Si
, Miss Clara!  Very good!” said Santos, “but be very careful!  Miss Violet watch hallways!  She not want residents in hallways because of quarantine!  Very bad!”

            “We’ll be careful, Santos,” replied Essie, “but that does sound like a workable plan, Clara.  And I won’t have to bother you again, Santos.”

            “No bother Santos,” the young man exclaimed.  “I want to help baby Antonio.  And Maria.”

            “It sounds to me, Santos,” noted Clara, “that you have more than just friendly feelings towards this child’s mother.”

            Santos blushed. 

            “Santos,” cried Essie, “is this true?  Are you sweet on Maria?”  She rocked Antonio and wondered how much he looked like his mother.

            “
Si,
I like Maria a lot, Miss Essie.”

            “Popping porcupines!” exclaimed Essie, “I certainly didn’t see that.  I just thought that … oh, never mind what I thought.”

            “But, Maria, she does not notice Santos,” he added.  “Maria only thinks about work and baby and getting away from bad husband.”

            “If she returns … .” began Clara.

            “
When
she returns, Clara,” said Essie, with a cautionary riveting of her forehead.

            “When she returns, Santos,” continued Clara, “maybe you can express your feelings to her.”  Essie was beginning to wonder if Clara was a gossip or a matchmaker.

            “
Si
, Miss Clara,” he said, “but first must find Maria.  Very important.  I am very worried for Maria.”

            “I know, Santos,” said Essie, “we’ll do everything we can to find Maria and help this innocent little baby.”  She smiled at Santos who returned her smile and took a deep breath. 

            “Oh, Miss Essie,” he said suddenly, “I almost forget.  Here is necklace back from Miss Opal.”  He reached into his pants pocket and brought out the gold necklace and handed it to her.

            “Thank you, Santos,” Essie replied taking the necklace with her free hand that was not holding the baby and placing it on her end table next to the Kreigsted box in which it had come.

            “Miss Essie, Miss Clara,” said Santos.  “You want me to bring dinner here for you?”

            Essie and Clara exchanged glances.

            “Why not?” replied Essie.  “I know we’re breaking the quarantine, but I’m certainly not sick and it doesn’t look as if Clara is either.  So if we’re careful not to be seen and you don’t tell on us, Santos … .”  Clara smiled and nodded.

            “Santos not tell,” he said.  “I keep secret for you, ladies.”   With that, the young waiter grabbed his tray and plate topper and sneaked out of Essie’s living room. 

            “It’s so boring to eat alone,” said Clara with a smile.

            “Yes, it is!” agreed Essie.

            “I see Santos brought you a present?” asked Clara, a small snicker beginning to develop at the corner of her mouth.  She scooted closer to Essie’s end table.

            “Oh, that’s not from Santos,” said Essie, chuckling, when she realized that Clara was referring to the necklace.  “It’s from …”

            “Goodness, Essie,” said Clara, her eyes swelling.  “I’m not an idiot!  I recognize a Kreigsted box when I see one!  Santos couldn’t afford to buy anyone a gift from Kreigsted’s.  Someone has sent you this necklace a present?”

            “Evidently,” replied Essie, with a shrug.  “Unfortunately.”

            “Unfortunately!” exclaimed Clara.  “It’s from Kreigsted’s!”

            “It is,” Essie replied, “and that’s why I can’t accept it.”

            “You can’t?”

            “If you must know, Clara,” said Essie, “it’s from Hubert Darby! I’m certainly not going to accept an expensive gift from him!”