Chapter 21

Chapter

Twenty-One

Dr. Sumner Delano

Saturday starts fair but breezy. I'm so anxious about Luke that even though Pastor Andersen will probably drive out later to check on members of his flock, Rose and I get on the road at dawn. The land between Boise City and the Red Cross hospital is flat and parched, but not so dusty I can't see where I'm going.

I'm so relieved.

I tell myself Luke is a grown man. He's got some money to tide him over, clothes, and a letter of recommendation from me. We send teenage boys into war with less. Except if I put myself in Luke's shoes, I can't imagine I'd adjust easily to a foreign world alone—even if I speak the language. There are a thousand things I take for granted daily. I'm sure Luke is good at pretending he knows how we live here, but he'll make mistakes. He'll ruin his cover like a bad spy. Living that way has to be uncomfortable. That's why spies have handlers. Unless Lucas has confided in someone there, he has no one but me.

The drive takes less time than I thought it would. One and a half hours later, we pull up in front of the Methodist church. Their meeting hall, which is situated behind the chapel, is where I expect to find Luke.

I don't have to search the faces of the volunteers; they're all women. Luke is not here. The woman in charge is called Afton. I spot her, but she's with a patient. I must wait while she finishes what's she doing before I approach her. It's killing me.

I hurry to catch her before she starts something else.

"Afton?" I ask. "Is it Miss Afton? My name is?—"

"Just Afton." She's a redhead with pale skin, florid cheeks, and unusual eyes. Green as grass. "Of course, I know who you are, Doctor Delano. Pleasure to meet you. Luke speaks very kindly of you."

"That's nice to hear. I'm looking for Luke as a matter of fact. Do you know where I might find him?"

She frowns. "Last night, he said he wanted to take a walk and get a drink, but he never came back."

"What?" My reaction causes heads to turn. "You let him go out for a drink by himself ?"

"I thought nothing of it." I've startled her. She steps back. "He's not one of my nurses or young volunteers. He's a grown man. I gave him the name of one of the nicer places a body can find a drink around here. The Watering Hole isn't bad, as far as bars go."

I gain control of my emotions. "I'm sorry for overreacting. Luke had a concussion recently. If I seem overly protective, that's why."

"You did say that in the letter." She frowns. "Maybe I should have made him stay here."

"Do you have any idea where he might be now?"

"Let me ask Kate." Afton calls over a volunteer wearing mismatched men's clothing. "Kate, dear. Do you know where Lucas might be?"

"Last time I saw him, he was going for a drink. That was last night. Didn't he come back?"

"I didn't see him." Around them, the patients are pretending not to listen. At least the alert ones. "I'll go to and check the basement again." She leaves at a vigorous walk.

One silver haired patient asks, "Did you…lose…Lucas?"

"He's not lost, Mrs. Cartwright, just misplaced." Afton goes to her bedside, where she carefully lifts the woman up enough to give her a few sips of water.

Kate returns. "Nobody has seen him."

"Lucas is missing." I have no idea what to do now.

"Don't panic, Dr. Delano. We'll find him."

Rose takes my other arm. "Luke's smart and fit. He doesn't make trouble."

I spot worry behind Rose's calm facade. Anything can happen to men of my kind when bigots are involved.

Afton joins our little group. "Ask the sheriff for help."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea." Kate purses her lips. "Sheriff Johnson can be pretty hard on people he thinks don't belong here."

How much does she know about Luke, I wonder?

"On the other hand, the sheriff can organize a search," says Afton. "The more people out looking for Luke, the better. I'll call him."

"That would be very kind, thank you."

Kate, Rose, and I watch her go into the side door of the chapel and knock. The pastor greets her warmly and closes the door behind them. The three of us stand there in silence until Kate holds out an envelope.

"He wrote you a letter, Dr. Delano. I found it with his things. He must not have had a chance to mail it."

I take it from her and place it in my pocket. "Perhaps he was waiting to give it to Pastor Andersen during one of his frequent visits."

She bobs her head. "It doesn't have a stamp."

"Well, I'm here to take him home."

Kate bites her lip. "He might want to stay. Read the letter."

Is it a Dear John? I know he's unhappy here. He feels useless and out of place. He misses his daughter. I didn't consider that he might leave for good.

I turn away and tear open the envelope. It's a normal letter. Thoughts on a page like a journal entry, except for the sweetness he expresses toward me. I can't wait to find out what endearment speaks to him. I sigh with relief and turn back to our friends.

"He hasn't left. At least, this isn't a goodbye letter."

"Oh, thank God," Rose murmurs.

"Luke wasn't unhappy." Kate twists a lock of hair by her ear. "But he did seem a little lost."

The door to the office opens, and Afton walks out, visibly angry.

"We don't need a search. They've got Luke in jail," she says.

"What?" Of all the possibilities, that never crossed my mind. Luke would never do anything to attract attention here, much less cause trouble.

Rose turns to me. "What on earth?"

"That old bully." Kate pushes her jacket sleeves up. Afton's sharp whistle nearly deafens me. I seethe while we listen to what she has to say.

"Luke was arrested last night for drunk and disorderly and vagrancy. I told Sheriff Johnson he works here, but apparently, volunteering doesn't matter."

"That's ridiculous," says Kate. "Why doesn't he arrest all of us, then?"

Afton grimaces. "Volunteering doesn't count if you're a man."

Kate sighs. "The old double standard. I oughta go over there and wallop him."

"Rose and I will go," I tell her. "You can come if you don't wallop anyone."

She narrows her eyes. "I can't promise I won't try."

I wouldn't like to be the object of Kate's ire.

"I'll be sorry to see him go. I like him." Afton pulls a piece of note paper from her apron pocket. "I wrote down directions for you."

I'm so anxious to get to the car that Rose and Kate can barely keep up.

" You're not going to wallop anyone, are you?" Rose asks when I open the door for her.

"I don't plan to." But there could be circumstances in which I would wallop someone. Especially on Luke's behalf. "If they've harmed one hair on his head?—"

"I'm good with a shovel." She laughs as she slides into the passenger seat.

"I can be your alibi," Kate says as she gets in the backseat.

Before I get in on the driver's side, I check the sky for dust clouds. It's not clear, but it's not ominous. I get in and follow Afton's directions. It's not far to the sheriff's office. I pull into an almost empty dirt lot and park the Dodge. Before I can come around, both women have climbed out.

Two deputies stand talking beside a parked police car.

They oggle Rose as we walk past.

Kate says, "We're here to see the sheriff."

"He's in his office." The unprofessional deputy jerks his head in the direction of the building.

As we walk away, the man gives a wolf whistle. Rose stiffens beside me. She mutters. "Knuckleheads."

I open the thick wooden door for them.

Inside, the building looks more like a school than a sheriff's office. The floors are a golden welcoming wood. The walls are painted white. There are bulletin boards with signs and sayings. A plump wife makes a happy life , and This is a hard hat area , with the word ‘hat' crossed out. There's a picture of Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow with their faces doodled on. The room smells like beeswax and floor polish. It's very clean. A large office to the right bears a sign: Sheriff Albert Johnson . Next to that is an ad for Big Chief Gasoline.

An older woman sits behind a desk. Moments pass before she deigns to address us.

"How can I help you folks?"

I step forward. "We'd like to speak with Sheriff Johnson, please."

She looks me over. Then she gets up and knocks on his door.

"Come." The voice is a growl.

The receptionist steps inside Sheriff Johnson's office. They have a disagreement. It's clear he's not too busy to see me, but he does't want to. She's describing my clothes and making me sound like some VIP.

Well, Goddamnit, I am a VIP.

She returns and sweeps her arm out. "You may go in now, sir."

"Thank you." I hold the door for Kate and Rose. Sheriff Johnson appraises Kate with a sneer before looking at me.

"What can I do you for?"

"I understand you have Dr. Lucas Hamilton in custody?"

He leans back. Ruminates. "What if I do?"

His office is a box of a room. Like the outer office, it has honey-colored floors and white walls. The difference is this one has a twelve-point buck's head hanging on the wall. Its lifelike eyes follow us. Sheriff Johnson and I are about the same age. His military short haircut is graying, but only at the temples. He's got leathery skin, a face full of broken capillaries, and close-set beady eyes. When he sits forward, his chair gives a terrified squeak.

"I'd like you to release him."

He laughs. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"I'm Doctor Sumner Delano." I give him my card. "I've opened a clinic in Boise City. Doctor Hamilton came here to care for a patient who, sadly, passed. I need him back now."

He opens a file folder. "Do the doctors where you come from often get drunk and cause scenes?"

"I daresay some do." I am not surprised by his words. Luke has been hanging on by a thread since he arrived.

"We got a call that someone was acting strange at the Watering Hole. Dan, the bartender, said they had some hobo drinking like a fiend, howling with laughter, and scaring decent folk."

"My colleague recently suffered a head injury. Perhaps the alcohol affected him adversely. I won't know until I can examine him."

"I ain't letting him go." He narrows his eyes, which are far less lifelike than the buck's.

"What's the fine? I'll pay it."

Sheriff Johnson is cagey now. A hint of a smile ghosts over his lips. He senses he can press his advantage. Perhaps he thinks he can impress the townsfolk with his dedication to law and order. Perhaps he thinks he can extort money from me. Either way, I've had enough of him.

I remove a second card from my wallet. "I need you to call this number."

"That's long distance. Why would I do that?"

"Because it's in your best interest, Sheriff Johnson." I take two silver dollars out of my pocket and offer them to him. "For the bill."

He dials the number. From experience, I know the call will be answered quickly. He listens to the voice on the line and says, "Well who the hell are you?"

Seconds later, he leaps to his feet. His chair rolls into the corner like a whipped dog.

I hold my hand out for the phone. "Give that to me."

He reluctantly hands it over. I give him a look I reserve for people who make my life difficult, and then I speak. "Hello, Eleanor. Tell me, is Franklin within shouting distance?"