Free Long Gone Man by Phyllis Smallman

things eat all the flowers. I have to hang baskets out of their reach in the trees to keep any color.”
    One of the deer had enough and with one graceful leap was gone. The other deer followed.
    â€œGood job,” Lauren said, as Missy charged back to the house, pleased at having conquered the invaders. “I’m going to set you on those reporters if they come up here.”
    â€œWhat reporters?”
    â€œThe ones who have been calling—at least half a dozen this morning wanting interviews. Can you imagine?” She opened the oven and put in another tray of muffins. “It’s only because they think John was murdered. They weren’t interested in him when he was alive. Who told them? Do you think Wilmot did?” She ran water into the mixing bowl.
    Singer wasn’t interested. “I hope they can get Beastie back on the road. It’s right at the edge, may even have tipped over by now.”
    â€œNope, it’s still there. I went up and had a look. Do you know how close you were to crashing down a few thousand feet? It explains why your hair is white.” Lauren frowned at her. “We have to find you a change of clothes.”
    Singer stared down at her orange skirt, which fell to her ankles. Made of Indian cotton, the bottom flounce of the skirt had ripped loose and a large oil stain soiled one side.
    Lauren said, “Look, I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but do you want to pick up some new clothes downtown? The hospital runs a secondhand shop. I’ll give you a little cash.”
    â€œThis is my favorite outfit.”
    â€œAnd it makes a great statement, but if you change your mind . . .” Lauren left the offer unfinished.
    â€œWell, give me the money and I’ll check out the shop.”
    Lauren laughed. “Yeah, right. I’ll meet you there.”
    â€œMaybe later.”
    Lauren dried the bowl with the towel she’d slung over her shoulder. “I called Janna. She wasn’t there, but I left a message to call me.”
    â€œJanna? That’s Johnny’s daughter?”
    Lauren nodded. “I didn’t want her to hear it on the news but I shouldn’t have done that, should I?”
    Singer shrugged. “On a machine or in person, the words hurt the same.”
    Lauren nodded. “I called her mom too.” Lauren set the bowl aside and got out a mug and filled it with coffee. “She said she’d go over to Janna’s right away, be there when she got home.”
    Lauren took a plate from the cupboard, put a collection of baking on it, and set it and the mug of coffee on the bar in front of Singer.
    â€œWhat’s Johnny’s kid like?”
    â€œShe’s a student at Simon Fraser University. She isn’t much like John and that’s a good thing. I’ll try to talk her into flying over when she calls, but she’s never liked float planes. Everything frightens her. It used to infuriate John. Janna didn’t see much of him growing up. Earla and John divorced when Janna was only two, and Earla raised her, kept Janna away from John for years.”
    â€œOh yeah, Earla, the girl who never met a drug she didn’t like.”
    â€œJohn told me about the drugs. But all of that changed after Janna came along. This past summer was the first time Janna and John spent any real time together. She came out in June and stayed until university started.”
    â€œHow was that for you?”
    â€œGreat. I missed her when she left.” Her face clouded over. “I don’t know what happened. There was some big disagreement. John wouldn’t tell me what it was about and neither would Janna, but she hasn’t been back since. She and John weren’t talking.” She opened the oven door and pulled out the rack. “I’ve called and called but she never returns my calls.” Lauren tested a muffin with a fork and then pulled out the pan, setting it on the stovetop. “I