CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The phone again. This place was busier than his office. In fact it was Ms. Wilbur. “Hobart, are you all right?”
How to answer that? “I’ve been shot.”
“I know.”
“Well, I don’t think I’m going to die. The doc was in and said I was lucky. They’ve got me eating real food now, but I’m still on an IV. Must be some pain killer in that, too. Every so often I just sort of fade out. Is that what you mean by all right?”
“Well, I just wanted to see. And you’re as sweet-natured as ever, so I guess you are. All right, that is.”
“Listen, maybe you can do something for me. I’ve been trying to find out what happened to Mother. She was with me when that guy shot me. I can’t find out where she is. I tried calling my house and there’s no answer. You know, she isn’t quite—I don’t think s
