Page 14 of Elsie's Strong Shelter

“Afternoon, Mrs. Pauly. My name is Dean Kingston, and this Elsie Sweet. Can we borrow a few minutes of your time?”

“Well sure. Why don’t you step inside? Standing here will let the cold air in and it’s not so good for these old bones.” Before they answered, she turned away from the door and slowly made her way to the recliner in the living room.

Dean waited for Elsie to step inside before following. The door shut behind him. A velour couch pressed against the wall mirrored the loveseat across from it. Both nearly identical to the set his grandparents had owned when he’d been a child. Framed photos littered the walls, and knick-knacks covered the mismatched stands that made the small space suffocating.

Elsie moved further into the room but stayed on her feet. “Thank you for agreeing to speak with us. I’m Mila Kinsley’s roommate.”

Delight lifted Mrs. Pauly’s face. “Oh, Mila. I just love that girl. How is she?”

“She’s missing.” Elsie’s voice cracked, broadcasting her emotion.

“Oh my.” Mrs. Pauly’s hand fluttered up to cover her mouth.

“That’s why we’re here,” Dean said. “We know she kept coming by to visit you, even after you severed ties with Hometown Healers. Did she stop by last night? We thought maybe she decided to see you before coming home.”

“You’re right, she does stop by from time to time, but not last night.”

Elsie’s shoulders dropped.

Disappointment pressed on Dean’s lungs, but he wasn’t done yet. “When was the last time you saw her?”

Mrs. Pauly rested her shaky hand on the arm of her chair. “It’s been about a week. My grandson recently moved in so there was no reason for her to come care for me. Not when she has a little boy to look after. I always love to see her, enjoy our visits, but she doesn’t need to waste her time on an old woman.”

“I know for a fact she never looks at time spent with you as wasted,” Elsie said, leaning forward to squeeze Mrs. Pauly’s hand. “She spoke about you with Jimmy, her son. Told him all about you. She only talks about the most special people with him.”

Mrs. Pauly beamed. “Thank you for that, child. I hope with my whole heart you find her.”

“Before we leave, can you tell us if she ever discussed anything personal with you? Bad feelings or vibes she got from anyone? Other patients she looked after on her own time?”Dean doubted the older woman could give them much more information, but it was worth a shot.

A cloud of disgust tightened the lines of her wrinkled face. “We talked a little about her boy’s father.”

A small gasp came from Elsie. “Really? She hardly ever discusses Keith with anyone.”

Dean mentally slapped himself. How had he not considered Jimmy’s father? He didn’t know the history beyond the fact that the deadbeat wasn’t a part of his child’s life, but there had to be a reason for that. A reason that could point directly to Mila’s disappearance.

“She didn’t say much, but I understood her pain of being a single mother. The guilt and burden that come along from loving the wrong man. Other than that, she talked mostly about Jimmy. Or let me prattle on about my own life. Such a sweetheart.”

“Thank you again for your time.” Dean plucked a business card from his back pocket and laid it on the side table by the front door. “Please call me if you can think of anything.”

They said their goodbyes then walked back into the dreary day.

Elsie sighed and stared at the house, as if willing Mila to be there. “That was a waste of time.”

“Not at all. We know Mila brought up Jimmy’s dad. That’s an angle we haven’t discussed yet.”

Scrunching her nose, Elsie stepped off the stoop and walked back to his truck. “Keith’s an asshat but he left town years ago. It’s hard to imagine him randomly showing up and hurting Mila. What would be the point?”

“A lot of crimes don’t make sense. They just happen.”

She stopped with one hand on the door handle, eyes round and pinned on him. “A crime. That makes it sound so sinister. So dangerous. I hate this.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be?—”

“Wait!” Elsie jogged around the front of his truck and made a beeline for a cluster of bushes on the edge of the property. A patch of red showed through the green leaves. She plunged her hand through the thicket and emerged with a long strand of red, silky material.

“What is that?” he asked, crossing to her side. “Fabric?”

She clutched the material in her fist and fire flashed on every inch of her face. “Mila’s scarf. She wore it to work last night. I don’t care what Mrs. Pauly said. Mila was here.”

---