Message Received Read online

  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

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter One

  “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 sho
pping 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.

  She managed to find her voice and folded her arms across her chest. “Do you have any idea where your grandfather might have taken my grandmother?”

  He narrowed his eyes and gave a humorless laugh. “Perhaps you could tell me where your grandmother might have taken my grandfather?”

  Amanda scoffed. “Are you suggesting my grandmother…?” Her worlds trailed off in unveiled disbelief.

  Her grandmother would have never done anything as irresponsible as running off, had she not been under the influence of another resident. Was Brady’s grandfather a con man? A sweet-talking lothario intent on getting his hands on her money? Well, he was in for a surprise. She didn’t have any.

  Oh, heaven help them.

  “If he harms a hair on my grandmother’s head…” she warned, piercing him with a cold stare.

  “If your grandmother married my grandfather at some drive-thru wedding chapel, I’ll...” He let the words hang in the air, as he glared at her.

  Both remained locked in a form of visual mortal combat. Mrs. Williams hurriedly interceded. “Look, we don’t know who influenced whom, of if indeed anyone influenced anyone. All we know is, that they’ve run off.”

  Amanda gave a mortified groan. “Run off? Run off to do what?”

  Mrs. Williams shrugged. “I … have no idea.”

  “Did you call my mom,” Amanda asked wearily.

  Liz recently listed you as her emergency contact person, in place of your mother,” the director told her.

  “And … my grandfather listed me, rather than my parents?” Brady asked, clearly perplexed.

  “Yes. Didn’t they tell you?”

  “No, but Granddad did call me yesterday, asking me to visit,” he related.

  “My grandmother called me too,” Amanda remembered. “But I couldn’t get away from work. We have to find them,” she declared, wringing her hands.

  Suddenly, her cell phone buzzed. She checked the screen and gasped. “I just got a text message from my grandmother! I didn’t know she knew how to send a text.”

  Brady abruptly pulled his phone from his pocket and checked the screen. “It’s Granddad! I didn’t know he had a cell phone.”

  “Come to Sunnyside Park—to the roses,” they read aloud and in unison.

  After a pause, Brady asked, “What is this about?”

  Amanda gave a shrug. “I don’t know.”

  They both turned to the director, who shook her head in response. “I have no idea either. I’m just glad they’re apparently okay.”

  Both Amanda and Brady nodded. She was right. If they were sending text messages, they were presumably okay. But what the heck was going on?

  Amanda sought Brady’s eyes. She could see that like her, he was worried sick about his elderly relative. She found herself incrementally less frustrated with him. It wasn’t his fault his granddad had pulled this stunt.

  “We have to sort this out. I’m going to head over to the park,” she announced. “You’re welcome to join me.”

  He watched her briefly, checked his watch, and then gave a sigh. “I’ll drive.”

  Chapter Two

  Liz Sanders sent a worried glance at Ike McKinney. The older couple were presently sitting in the front seat of Ike’s 1992 Oldsmobile. They were parked on the north side of Sunnyside Park, in an obscure spot behind a couple of evergreen trees.

  “Do you see the kids?” Liz asked.

  Ike lowered his binoculars. “Not yet. They’ll be here,” he said, though he wondered if it was wishful thinking on his part. Would his hard-headed grandson actually show up? The kid was so focused on his job, it wouldn’t surprise him a bit that he’d sent someone in his stead when he’d received the call from the center.

  “What if they don’t come?” Liz asked worriedly. “Your grandson didn’t return your last phone call,” she reminded him.

  Ike gave a shrug. This younger generation couldn’t be counted on for much of anything. Most had abandoned real, honest-to-goodness interaction in favor of anonymous, new-fangled, techno communication. If they didn’t want to talk to someone, they didn’t have to. Calls went to voice mail, to be dealt with later—or not at all.

  In his day, a person had to actually pick up the phone to know who was on the other end of the line. Of course, people of his generation knew how to talk to one another. They also knew that words had power—and were therefore, much more careful with them. They understood that words, once said, couldn’t be taken back. And by gosh, if they had something important to say, they said it face-to-face—prepared to face any consequences. Not so the kids today. They hid behind their gadgets.

  He was still astounded that Brady had recently learned of the end of his long-term relationship via a text message from his girlfriend. What kind of a woman broke up with someone via a text? It was the coward’s way out, as far as Ike was concerned.

  For a smart kid, that Brady could sure pick ‘em, he thought sarcastically, as he ran a hand through his still-thick grey hair. It was a shame too, since he was a good man—had sound values. He deserved a good, loving woman in his life.

  “Oh, Ike, I think I see them!” Liz said eagerly, pointing off into the distance.

  He followed her directions and sure enough, spotted his grandson standing beside a young woman. He recognized the pretty girl from her rare visits to her grandmother. She seemed to be a nice enough girl, but he couldn’t help be disappointed with her for her apparent disregard for her grandmother. Liz was a wonderful person, loving and kind, and deserved better than to be warehoused and forgotten by loved ones.

  He knew Liz was hurt with the girl for her infrequent visits. She often made excuses for her, insisting she had an important job that required her undivided attention, just as he was forever making excuses for his own absent family members.

  He turned his attention to Brady again. Good looking kid. Reminded him of himself as a young man. Tall, could have a bit of a swagger under certain circumstances, but was so serious most of the time. Frankly, the kid needed to let loose and have a good time on occasion. He was so hell-bent on growing that company of his that he hardly ever made time for himself, or others. He was going to burn out by the time he reached forty if he wasn’t careful.

  “Ike, what if they spot us?” Liz worried aloud.