the first time, she considered consolidating the money into one bank. But the mostly inactive savings account, inherited from her father, provided some emotional touchstone for her mother. That alone made the few extra pieces of paper a minor inconvenience.
“I thought I heard you come in.” Corie Anderson, her mother’s companion and caretaker, came around the corner from the dining room.
Angel turned and smiled. “Hi, Corie. How is she today?”
“Today was mostly a good day.”
“Mostly?”
“She spent much of her time reading a book.” Corie crossed to the refrigerator and pulled out a diet pop. “We watched a movie. Then Mr. Dexter stopped by. He left an envelope for you—it’s on the front hall table.”
“Did he visit with Mom?”
Corie nodded, but a frown shadowed her face.
“What?” Angel prompted.
“She’s just been very moody lately. Mostly sad.”
Angel looked out the window over the sink. The grass needed mowing again. Already. Had it been a week? Probably longer. She shook her head and pulled back from the momentary escape. “I have to go out of town for a few days. As soon as I finish packing, I’ll come in and see if I can get her to talk some.”
“I wonder if it’s her medication.”
“You think she’s having a bad reaction?”
“It’s not that so much as I don’t think this new stuff is as effective as the original prescription.”
“Dr. Brenna said it would take some time to transition, and for the new meds to reach optimum levels.” She pulled a bottle of spring water from the refrigerator. “Until then, we’re bound to see some symptoms of the depression and paranoia.”
Corie nodded. “I guess that makes sense. But I keep wondering if maybe you should get a second opinion? I know of another doctor….”
Angel sighed. “I don’t know. Between Dr. Sanders all of a sudden disappearing without a word, Mom’s files getting lost, finding a new doctor and now this new prescription…it’s been a lot of change. At least she seems to like Dr. Brenna.”
She exchanged a look with Corie. Her mother’s moods had taken a marked downturn nearly two months ago. The change had been difficult for all of them.
Angel held the cool water bottle to her chest, wishing it would soothe the ache building there. She wanted her father, wanted their little family whole. Except some bail jumper— She shook off that line of thought.
“Tell her I’ll be in in just a few minutes. It won’t take me long to pack.”
“Sure.”
Angel turned back to the window. “The lawn needs mowing. You better call a service and get it done. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone.”
“I’ll take care of it. You pay me enough to do more than sit around all day.”
Angel smiled. Since joining their little household two years ago, Corie had become indispensable. “Don’t sell yourself short. Having you is a godsend. I don’t know how we managed without you.”
“Then we saved each other.” Corie gave her a quick hug. “If you hadn’t exposed my ex for the rat he was, I’d probably be dead now. The best thing I got out of that disastrous marriage was this job.”
“Thank Dex for that. He came up with the idea. All I did was make the offer.”
“As far as I’m concerned, the offer is all that counts. I’ll tell Maryam you’re home.”
Angel watched the seconds tick off as she drained her bottle of water. Precious time—time spent away from Mom—chasing shadows and ghosts that might not even exist anymore.
The chase was essential, and lately it seemed like she was actually making some headway. She was closer now than she’d ever been to tracking down the arsonist who’d killed her father. If she could keep at it a little longer, she’d succeed. She knew it in her bones.
Then, maybe, she’d capture the person she most needed to find—her mother.
Dropping the empty bottle into the recycling bin, she headed back to the basement. Ten minutes and a change of clothes later, she stowed a small suitcase filled with a range of wardrobe options in Rusty’s trunk, along with a gym bag now filled with the clothes and supplies she’d picked up for Cabrini. Another five minutes, and she had her overnight bag packed and sitting by the back door, ready for her departure.
She pulled a pint of Godiva chocolate ice cream from the freezer, grabbed a couple of spoons and headed for the living room.
The afternoon sun wrapped the butter-yellow room in a golden glow. At the center, her mother, dressed in tan slacks and a pale green cotton sweater, sat next to a side table piled with books.
“Hi, Mom.” Angel flopped down next to her on the chocolate leather couch and handed her a spoon. “Time for dessert.”
“We haven’t eaten dinner yet.” Her mother’s voice held a curious mix of amusement and sadness.
“There’s always time for chocolate. You two can do the healthy dinner thing later.”
“What about you?” Her mother looked at her with sad, gray eyes.
There had been a time, when Angel was very small, that her mother had laughed all the time. The memories acted as a beacon, reminding Angel of what life could be, would be, someday. If she found her father’s killer, her mother could heal and maybe even be happy again.
Angel dug her spoon into the ice cream. “I have to go out of town for a few days. I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but I’ve got my cell phone so you can call me anytime.”
“Where are you going?”
“It’s nothing to worry about, Mom. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“When you get back, we should talk.”
Angel shot a quick glance at Corie. Corie shrugged and shook her head. “Talk about what?”
Maryam shook her head.
“Do you like your new doctor? Is that what you want to discuss?” Angel tried another tack.
Again, Maryam shook her head, this time casting a furtive glance at her companion.
“Would you prefer to go back to the old medication?”
“No.” She picked at the crease of her twill pant leg. “That stuff made me feel…fuzzy, like I’m looking at the world through a big wad of cotton gauze.”
“So, the new stuff is better?”
“Better? Yes, but it’s still not right. Nothing is right. Nothing’s been right since…” She stabbed her spoon into the
