Authors: Rosemarie Naramore
Message Received
All the
characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons,
living or dead, is purely coincidental.
MESSAGE
RECEIVED
©
Copyright 2012 by Rosemarie Naramore
All
rights reserved.
Table
of Contents
“Your grandmother is … well, missing.”
Amanda Richardson pressed the phone tightly
against her ear. Had she heard the caller correctly? She ran a frazzled hand
through her hair. “I don’t understand. How can you misplace a senior
citizen?”
Amanda had been in the middle of an important
meeting when the emergency call came in from the director of the retirement
center where her grandmother Liz had resided for the past six months.
Grandmother Liz was missing.
Missing?
How did a senior citizen
go missing from
a reputable retirement center?
Mrs. Williams, the director, sighed worriedly.
“We’ve searched the entire facility, but Liz is simply nowhere to be found.”
“Okay, I’ll … be right there.” Amanda hung up
the phone. She pushed back from her desk, grabbed her purse, and dashed out of
her office. She paused long enough to speak to her assistant, Lori. “I have
to go,” she said.
“When will you be back? Don’t forget, you have
a one o’clock meeting with Dennis Bradford.”
“Uh, I’m afraid I’ll have to cancel. Will you
reschedule for me, please?”
“Of course.”
Amanda hurried to her car and sped out of the
lot. A million thoughts whirled through her mind as she drove. Had her
grandmother left of her own accord? Had she even left at all? Perhaps she had
decided to take a stroll around the grounds, or even offsite for a bit, without
alerting the center staff.
Amanda knew there was a department store nearby
the retirement home, where many of the seniors did their shopping. Of course,
if that was the case, she would have signed out at the front desk, as was
policy. But perhaps she simply forgot the protocol. She was seventy-five
now. She could certainly be forgiven a memory lapse or two.
Amanda ran a nervous hand through her thick
auburn hair. Her emerald eyes reflected her worry, as did the downturn of her
full lips. She prayed her grandmother was okay. They had always been close,
though she felt some guilt for neglecting her lately.
She’d been so caught up with her work—spending
countless evenings and weekends there—that she could scarcely find the time to
do a load of laundry, let alone visit her beloved grandmother.
She took a shoring breath.
Grandma is fine
.
As she neared the retirement center, she
couldn’t help wondering why she’d received the distress call, rather than her
mother. But the director had been insistent that she come. She was grateful
she’d been alerted, but it seemed her mother should have been the first one
called. Why hadn’t she been?
Amanda placed a quick call to her mom, but when
she didn’t pick up, dialed her cell phone instead. She left a message when she
didn’t answer. Had her mother been in communication with Liz? Had she been
visiting her regularly? Had Liz gone off with her somewhere and the two
forgotten to tell the staff?
Amanda gave a withering sigh. Heck, not only
had she been neglecting her grandmother, she’d put her own mother on the back
burner too. But what could she do? She had a demanding job in advertising,
and was currently developing a new ad campaign for a popular soap brand that
had been experiencing lagging sales. It was critical she come up with a
campaign that pleased the long-time client. It was proving easier said than
done.
Forcing thoughts of work from her tired brain,
she tried to recall the last conversation she and her mother had had about her
grandmother. From what her mother had told her, Liz was doing well at the
facility. She had a small apartment, replete with a bedroom, bath, and sitting
area. She was allowed to take her meals in her room, or join other residents
in a large cafeteria, where the dietary needs of residents were diligently
met. Craft classes aplenty were offered, as well as daily outings to nearby
and distant attractions. What more could anyone ask for?
With a relieved sigh, Amanda arrived at the
retirement center. It was a beautiful facility, the newest in town, and
boasted crisp, manicured grounds and a tasteful interior décor. She dashed
through the main entrance and found the director waiting for her at the
reception desk.
“How long has my grandmother been gone?” she
asked breathlessly, as she approached her.
“I’m afraid she never showed up for breakfast.”
Mrs. Williams reached up to smooth her perfectly coiffed blonde hair. “When
she didn’t come into the cafeteria this morning, as is customary for her, we
sent a staff member to her room.” She gave an apologetic shrug. “She wasn’t
there.”
“What do you mean? Where could she be?”
“We don’t know. We’ve searched the facility
from top to bottom, but there’s no sign of her.”
“Do you know when she was last accounted for?”
Amanda asked, glancing around as if her grandmother might suddenly materialize.
“She was at dinner last night in the cafeteria,
but I’m told she didn’t stay for dessert. We had a visiting student pianist
from the local community college, who treated our residents to a concert. We
know Liz was eager to attend, since she mentioned it to her best friend,
Gladys.”
“Where is Gladys?” She shook her head. “
Who
is Gladys?”
Mrs. Williams nodded toward a silver-haired,
elderly woman who was presently talking to a police officer. They were sitting
on a sofa across the room. Amanda hadn’t noticed the officer before, and
hurried over to him.
“I’m Amanda Richardson, the granddaughter of the
missing resident,” she informed. “What are you doing to find her?”
He glanced up from his notepad, meeting her
gaze. “I’m afraid there isn’t much I can do. Your grandmother is free to come
and go as she pleases. I understand her mind is sharp, she has no pressing
health concerns, and that she isn’t subject to any restrictions about her
comings and goings here.” He gave a shrug. “She’s a retiree, rather than a
patient.”
“That’s true,” Amanda agreed, “but she just
wouldn’t leave without alerting someone.”
Mrs. Williams joined them then. “Miss
Richardson is right. It isn’t like Liz to leave without telling someone where
she’s going.”
“Oh, Lord,” Amanda muttered worriedly, as her
heart began thudding in her chest. What if Liz had been kidnapped? What if
she’d been the victim of a crime? What if she’d had an accident?
What if…?
She took a shuddering breath and the director
placed a reassuring hand on her arm. “I’m sure she’ll turn up. She hasn’t
been gone that long.”
“You don’t know that for certain,” she said.
“For all we know, she’s been gone since yesterday evening.” Amanda turned her
attention to Gladys. Mrs. Williams had identified her as her grandmother’s
best friend here. She extended a hand to the elderly woman. “Hello. I’m
Amanda, Liz’s granddaughter. I understand you’re a friend of my grandmother…”
Gladys eyed her speculatively. “Your
grandmother doesn’t see much of you since she moved here,” she said pointedly,
her lips pursed in disapproval.
Amanda’s breath hitched in her throat. She felt
another piercing stab of guilt for not visiting her grandmother more. Had Liz
expressed to Gladys that she was hurt by her absence from her life?
She pushed the guilt aside, since she had more
pressing concerns at the moment. “Gladys, do you have any idea where my
grandmother might be?”
The elderly woman pinned her with a look. “You
work too hard,” she said accusingly. “You need to slow down. You’ll never
find a man if you don’t slow down…”
Amanda shook her head, watching the woman with
confusion. What did her work life have to do with the situation at hand? And
what was with this ‘man’ business…? She gave a perplexed shake of her head.
“But Gladys, do you know why my grandmother isn’t here…?”
“Liz knows what’s important,” she said with a
curt nod. “She knows what she’s doing. Just because we’re older now, doesn’t
mean we don’t know what we’re talking about—that we don’t have something
important to say.”
Amanda watched the woman curiously. She wasn’t
making sense. The poor old soul.
She turned back to the cop. “We have to start
looking for her. You need to form a search party…”
He only smiled reassuringly in response. “Since
another resident is missing as well, we have to consider they may have gone off
together.”
“
What
?” Amanda watched his face,
dumbfounded. “Wait a minute. You’re telling me someone else is missing too?”
She watched him in disbelief, and then turned to Mrs. Williams. “Why didn’t
you tell me someone else is missing too?”
“Well, I was about to tell you but you hurried
away from me to speak to…”
“Do you often lose residents?” she cut in
shrilly. “Or, is this a first? And why didn’t you tell me you believe my
grandmother left with a girlfriend?” She took a shoring breath. “They
probably decided to go shopping together.”
She gave an audible sigh of relief. Liz had
likely gone across town to a favorite women’s clothing boutique with a friend.
“Okay, yes, Grandma probably went shopping with a girlfriend,” she said,
breathing deeply to slow her pounding heart.
The woman shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, well, Liz
didn’t leave with a … er…”
Suddenly, a handsome young man burst through the
front doors. “Have you found my grandfather yet?” he queried, glancing around
with alarm. He raked a hand through his thick dark hair.
“I’m afraid not, Brady,” the director told him.
Amanda glanced between the older woman and the
man, her brows furrowed in confusion. His grandfather was missing?
The director noticed her puzzled expression.
“We believe Liz ran off with Ike, Brady’s grandfather. He didn’t make it to
breakfast either.”
Amanda and Brady turned to one another, both
wide-eyed and thoroughly confused. “Are you telling me my granddad took off
with a … woman?” Brady asked, while Amanda appeared to have lost the power of
speech.
“We’re fairly certain,” Mrs. Williams said with
a wince. “They had been spending quite a lot of time together, prior to their
… disappearance.”
Amanda attempted to process this new turn of
events. Were they really suggesting that her grandmother—her level-headed,
morally stalwart grandmother—had run off with some silver-haired Casanova from
the retirement home?
She watched Brady accusingly, but abruptly
realized, he was watching her with the same suspicious expression on his
handsome face.
And it was definitely a handsome face. His dark
eyes were heavily lashed and his nose straight over well-formed, masculine
lips. Wavy brown hair was cut short, in a crisp precision cut, though she had
no doubt his hair would tend toward unruly curls if left to grow out. She
wondered, did he ever grow it out?
She gave her head another swift shake, as if
ejecting the errant thought. Her grandmother was missing and she was
practically ogling the grandson of the man she’d likely run off with.