He spoke with Tiffany again, explained what she should do, and said he would call her back once businesses were open and he could figure out a plan. Knowing there would be no more sleep tonight, he fixed some coffee, showered and dressed, and started working on her dilemma.
Tiffany had to come back if they were to solve her problem. The thing that was controlling her brain and pulling her here was stronger than her will to resist. She couldn't fight the compulsion that was luring her to the building.
She would have to take time off from her job for who knew how long — a few days, hopefully, but maybe longer. He’d front her expenses, but he could already see possibilities in this story, and that meant WCCY would reimburse him. He searched for airports near Blythe and learned that the closest was Yuma, a hundred miles away. From there she could fly to Phoenix and on to New Orleans.
He worried about her traveling alone. Should he go there and accompany her back, since another bout of memory loss would exacerbate the dilemma? That question became moot when his phone rang.
"Mr. Drake, it's Charlie Peterson out in Blythe again. I have some bad news. Your friend's disappeared."
"Disappeared? What happened? I thought you were taking her to the motel —"
"I did. I paid for her room like you asked and made sure she got to the door. Then I came back to work. I worried about her, so I went over to check a few minutes ago. The desk clerk said she walked out right after I left her there. I'm sorry. I should have done more —"
"It's not your fault," Landry assured him as his mind raced. Where could she be? He knew she was headed this way, but how? "Did another bus come through after you left her, and did she have enough cash to get on it?"
"She had plenty of cash. I didn't charge her for breakfast, and the room was only twenty-nine dollars, so she had almost all of your two hundred bucks. She didn't take a bus; the next one's not due until this afternoon."
Landry thanked the man and said he'd try to contact her. He tried her phone but got voicemail. He left a message and ten minutes later he tried again. The call connected and in the background he heard Tiffany talking to someone.
"Say hello," the man said. "Lady, answer your phone."
"I can't. I mean I don't want to. I can't talk right now."
The man answered, Landry explained Tiffany was a friend and asked who he was speaking with.
"Tim Cowling. I drive for United Freightways. I picked this lady up hitchhiking outside Blythe, and we're headed for Albuquerque. She seems to be in some...er, some kind of mental distress. She's not acting out or anything, but something's not right, if you know what I mean." To Tiffany he said, "It's okay, lady. Calm down. This is your friend I'm talking to."
"What time will you be in Albuquerque?" Landry asked, and the driver said it would take around seven hours. With the time change, he'd be at the depot around four.
Landry had to put something together fast. He didn't know this guy from Adam, but he was a driver for a major trucking company, not to mention the only remedy available. He explained that Tiffany was going through an emotional experience and at age forty-seven she was literally running away from home. She's working her way to New Orleans, he added, and he worried about her safety. He told the driver if he'd make sure Tiffany got to Albuquerque, he'd pay him for taking care of her.
No need for that, Tim Cowling replied, promising to buy her lunch and get her to United's depot. "What do I do with her then?"
He took the driver's phone number and said, "I'll take it from there. Give me a little time and I’ll get back to you." He had no ideas, but he had seven hours to come up with something. He checked schedules, called Cate to enlist her help, and told the driver his plan.
Two hours later he took a Southwest flight to Dallas Love Field and connected to Albuquerque. He was waiting at United Freightways' vast truck depot when Tim Cowling and Tiffany arrived at a quarter past four. Thankful he could take charge of her now, he insisted the driver take a hundred dollars, thanked him for his help, and took Uber back to Albuquerque Sunport. At eleven fifteen p.m. he and Tiffany walked into his apartment on St. Philip Street, where Cate sat waiting for them.
"Thanks for coming on short notice," he said. "I didn't have much choice. She has to stay here so she won't run away, and I didn't want her in my house without you here too."
They put the addled woman to bed in Landry's second bedroom, moved the dining table and some chairs in front of the outside door as a barrier against her leaving, and crawled into bed themselves.
During this crazy day he'd forgotten to call his friend Henri Duchamp. He'd also forgotten about Jack, regretting he hadn't given the man a thought. He was to have reported for work this morning, but Landry hadn't even gone to work himself, so he didn't know. There had been no phone message, and Landry hoped things were okay. He listened to Cate snore next to him and willed the thoughts out of his mind. He hadn't rested last night, and he needed some peace right now.
His eyes popped open to see sunlight flooding the bedroom. They had slept until nine, a rarity for them but no surprise after yesterday. He and Cate checked the living room; the furniture
