Tales of the City 03 - Further Tales of the City

Mary Ann was drained.
    DeDe, however, showed amazing resilience.
    “How do you do it?” asked Mary Ann, as the duo boarded a cab at Sitka Airport.
    DeDe smiled wearily. “Do what?”
    “Well … I’d have fallen apart by now. Just thinking about it.”
    DeDe searched for a mint in her tote bag. “I did my falling apart earlier. I screamed for five solid minutes after Mother called. No more … that’s it.” She popped a mint into her mouth. “It would only get in the way of what I have to do.”
    The faintly John Wayne-ish undertone of this remark unsettled Mary Ann. “Are you sure we shouldn’t notify someone. I mean … if not the police, then someone who’ll at least know …”
    “No. No one. If it’s him, then media coverage is the last thing we need. The man doesn’t take to being cornered. We would only freak him out.”
    “But surely some sort of protection would be …”
    “When we find him,” said DeDe. “When we know we can nail him without harming the children … and not before.”
    When, observed Mary Ann, not if. They had no proof whatsoever that the twins were still in Sitka, but DeDe kept the faith. It was hard to imagine a more courageous display of positive thinking.
    The cab driver asked: “Where to in town?”
    “The Potlatch House.” DeDe turned to Mary Ann. “The ship left this afternoon, I gather. Mother and Prue Giroux took rooms at this place.” She smiled sardonically. “If there was ever an odd couple …”
    “What did they tell the ship people?”
    “Nothing,” said DeDe, “at my instruction. They just disembarked, saying they had decided to spend some time in Sitka. Pretty flimsy-sounding, I guess, but we had no choice. Any report of the kidnapping would be deadly at this point.”
    Mary Ann felt her flesh pebbling. She had never heard “deadly” used quite so literally. “I’m surprised your mother didn’t call the police.”
    “So am I,” said DeDe. “Fortunately, she called me first. I’m sure that Prue encouraged it. He was her boyfriend, after all. The last thing she wanted was to tangle with the police. It’s not really the sort of thing she can use in her column.”
    “She met him on the ship, though. We can’t exactly hold her responsible for …”
    “She says she met him on the ship.”
    Mary Ann frowned. “I’m sorry. You’re losing me again.”
    “I think she knows more than she’s telling Mother,” explained DeDe. “And I think Mother knows more than she’s telling us.”
    “About what?”
    DeDe sighed. “I don’t know … just … well, something about her beloved Mr. Starr finally convinced her he was off the deep end.”
    “I would certainly think so,” said Mary Ann.
    “Something besides the kidnapping.”
    “Oh.”
    “She started to tell me, and then just shut up. I guess she’s protecting me. We’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?” DeDe’s smile was ironic and heartbreakingly brave.
    Mary Ann took her hand to ward off her own tears. “Don’t make it any worse than it is,” she said.
    “Is that possible?” asked DeDe.
    The cab crossed a streamlined white bridge, while the driver drew their attention to an extinct volcano that presided majestically over an archipelago of tiny islands. The town lay ahead of them, clean and compact as Disneyland. As a setting for indescribable menace, it was not very convincing.
    Mary Ann checked her watch. It was 9:13. Twilight.
    DeDe peered out at Sitka harbor. “It’s kind of pretty, isn’t it?”
    “Yeah … I suppose.”
    “I’m scared shitless,” said DeDe.
    “So am I,” said Mary Ann.

The Interrogation
    A T MARY ANN’S SUGGESTION, DEDE’S INITIAL MEETING with her mother was private. Mary Ann spent the time catnapping in her room at the Potlatch House, secretly relieved that she had escaped the anguish of the confrontation.
    An hour later, DeDe returned to the room and collapsed into a chair next to Mary Ann’s bed.
    Mary Ann rubbed her eyes as she sat up. “Rough, huh?”
    DeDe nodded.
    “Is she O.K.?”
    “Better,” sighed DeDe. “I gave her a Quaalude.”
    “Poor thing,” said Mary Ann.
    DeDe rubbed her forehead with her fingertips. “She knows less than we do. I can’t believe how out of it she is sometimes.”
    “What about Prue?”
    DeDe picked distractedly at the arm of the chair. “She’s next. I didn’t want to question her with Mother around. I figured she’d be intimidated. It’s gonna be hard enough as it is to get the