by Mark Bentsen
Flustered, he unlocked the car and sat down. Looking at his phone he recalled a recent conversation where Bonnie had said they needed to get smartphones. All of her friends said sending texts was easier than making phone calls all day long. Luke thought it was a waste of time. His friends had told him how it works. They said you’ll be working, moving cattle from one pasture to another and your phone will buzz. You’ll have to stop your horse, pull out your reading glasses, clean the dust off them and read a message on the phone that says, “How’s your day going honey?” That kind of bull shit he didn’t need. He tossed his dead cell phone on the passenger seat, and thought, and another thing. I can’t even remember to keep this little piece of shit charged up.
Luke turned on the radio and tried to think of something else. But, two minutes later he turned it off. It was impossible to sit still, so he got out and stood in the open door looking over the roof of the car toward Main.
Where else could she have gone?
Luke closed his eyes and massaged his temples. His headache was almost gone. Food, he thought, might help, but he’d wait until Bonnie came back. He vowed to drink no more wine on this trip. Maybe no more wine in this lifetime.
A few minutes later he sat back down in the car. He glanced over the seat and saw the paperback he bought at the drugstore. Then it hit him. On the flight to Calgary Bonnie said she was almost finished with the book she was reading and needed to get another one before they left civilization. This small, nothing of a town was about the last chance. She probably went to find a bookstore, if they had one. And when Bonnie was in one, she lost all track of time. I’ll give her a few more minutes, then I’ll find out if there is a bookstore in town.
With that logic, Luke relaxed; he knew she’d walk around the corner any minute with a new mystery or romance paperback in her hand. His anger seemed to settle down a notch, but they’d still have to talk about wandering off without leaving a note.
But five minutes later he couldn’t stand it so he walked up to the corner and watched, scanning the faces of the pedestrians as they came and went. For the next fifteen minutes, he walked half a block one way then the other. Just before one, he looked back at the car and noticed most of the parking spaces in front of the clinic were filled again. He might as well check with the receptionist one more time. He hurried inside and when he got to the open window the receptionist smiled with a look of recognition.
“I was in here before lunch looking for my wife. You haven’t seen her, have you?”
Her expression changed to confusion. “No, sir. Was she going to come back?”
“I don’t think so, but I can’t find her. If she comes back, would you tell her I’m looking for her?”
She nodded. “Yes sir, I will.”
He started to leave, and then turned back to her, “Is there a bookstore in town?”
“There’s only one and it sells mostly used books.”
“Can you tell me how to get there?”
“Just go to Main and turn left. It’s down on the left about five blocks.”
Luke thanked her and as he started walking he felt as if he was on a wild goose chase. She wouldn’t go that far without telling him. But he was out of ideas.
The Great Exchange Bookstore was bigger than he expected for a town this small. The bookshelves were tall and the aisles were narrow. As he walked through the store he felt like he was in a maze as he rushed from one aisle to the next, looking hopefully around every corner.
After passing an old man wearing a dirty gray Stetson for the third time, the man stopped him. “You look lost, son. Can I help you find something?”
“You work here?” Luke said, eyeing the old cowboy curiously.
“Not really, this is my wife’s store, but I kind of know my way around.”
“I’m looking for my wife,” Luke said. “She’s about five-eight with long reddish blonde hair. She might have a cast on her forearm.”
“You don’t know if she has a cast on her arm,” the man said. He gave Luke a wary look.
“It’s a long story, but bottom line is that we got separated down at the clinic.”
He nodded as if he understood, and said, “I haven’t seen her, but let’s go ask Ruthie.” He started toward the front of the store, talking as he walked. “I just got here a few minutes ago. Brought Ruthie some lunch.”
At the checkout counter he relayed the question to his wife. She said, “I can’t remember seeing anyone like that, but I could have missed her. Lots of people come and go.”
Disappointed, Luke thanked them and started back to the car.
On the way he came to the fire station and saw two fire trucks and an ambulance backed into the stalls. Two EMTs in black uniforms were standing near the open doors, one smoking a cigarette. What if something happened to her, Luke thought. If she got hit by a car or fell on the sidewalk and got knocked out, no one in the clinic would know about it. The EMTs would take her to the hospital, if there was a hospital in town.
“Excuse me,” Luke said as he stepped over and spoke to the EMTs. “I wonder if you could help me.”
“We’ll try,” the smoker said. “What’s up?”
“I’m looking for my wife. We got separated a couple of hours ago and I’ve looked all over town and can’t find her. She was at the clinic waiting to see the doctor and I left for about an hour. When I came back, they said she was gone. Have you guys gotten any calls to pick up a woman this morning?”
“No, we came on at seven this morning and haven’t had a call at all. You might go down to the hospital and see if they know anything. It’s down there in the next block,” he said, pointing down the street. “Go in the emergency entrance and talk to the lady at the desk. If she was taken in for any reason, she’ll be able to tell you.”
“Okay, thanks.”
At the hospital Luke explained the situation and was told no one had been admitted all morning.
Back at the clinic he found the car exactly as it was when he left. He dropped into the driver’s seat and with his thumb and forefinger rubbed his eyes while he tried to make sense of it.
He knew that something was not right. This was a little town, the downtown area not more than four blocks long and he’d searched it over and over for the past two hours with no luck and now his concern turned to fear.
As he looked out the window, a couple of kids on bicycles rode past on the sidewalk, and his imagination began to wander.
Maybe someone grabbed her when she came out the front door? No way, he thought. Not at eleven thirty in the morning in broad daylight in this little Podunk town.
Maybe the police arrested her for something, like J-walking.
Or maybe those jerks from the border crossing came and got her and now are trying to convince her to file charges against him as a wife-beater. She’d never do it, because it wasn’t true.
Luke shut his eyes and unconsciously shook his head. None of those options seemed possible. Nothing made sense and he knew he had to do something about it now.
He locked the car and trotted back to the clinic. As soon as the receptionist saw him, she stopped typing and gave him a stunned look.
“You still haven’t found your wife?”
“No, I haven’t. Rita’s a friend of hers, and I was wondering if I could talk to her.”
“She’s busy with a patient right now, but let me tell my boss.”
The receptionist disappeared around the corner and a minute later returned. She took Luke back to an office where an attractive blonde sat behind a desk.
As soon as she saw him, she stood and walked around the desk toward him.
“I’m Mitzi Lindsey, the office manager. Monica told me you can’t find your wife. That’s bizarre. I’ve never heard of such a thing. Let’s go talk to Rita.”
He followed her down a hallway to the nurses’ station where a brunette in a green smock stood making notes in a file. She appeared to be about forty with a trim body and dark hair in a ponytail. As
they got closer, she gave them a sidelong glance and said, “What’s up, Mitz?”
“Rita, this is Luke Wakefield. He said his wife was in here this morning and is a friend of yours?”
“That’s right,” she said, looking at Luke.
“He’s got a few questions. Can you help him?”
“Sure,” she said. She closed the file and looked at Luke. “Your wife is a fantastic photographer. Everyone loved her presentation and I can’t wait to get her book. I ordered one for me and one for my mom.”
“Thanks, I know she enjoyed coming up here to talk,” Luke said, shifting his weight. “Did you see her this morning?”
“I did, but just for a few minutes,” Rita said, pulling another file. “Is she feeling better?”
“I don’t know. I left her here at the clinic about ten-thirty to run some errands and when I came back they said she was gone. I’ve been looking for her since noon and can’t find her. Did she say anything about going anywhere else?”
“No, she didn’t say anything. We barely had a chance to talk.” Rita leaned against the wall and studied Luke’s face. “When I saw her it was all routine. I got her information and found out what was going on. She told me about getting sick and falling down the side of the cliff, which sounded really scary. I’m glad she didn’t get hurt any worse than she did. Anyway, we took an X-ray and gave it to Dr. Duncan. The clinic was busy, I doubt if I talked to her for more than five minutes. Maybe Dr. Duncan can tell you something. Let me see if he has time to talk to you.”
Luke followed her down to the end of the hallway where she stopped at a brown paneled door and knocked softly. When there was no answer, she pushed it open and they walked into a spacious office. In the middle of the room was a massive mahogany desk. Across from it were two arm chairs.
“Have a seat and I’ll go get him.” Luke sat down and she walked out, closing the door behind her.
Behind the desk numerous plaques and diplomas decorated the wall. Below them on a credenza were a number of framed photos. In one, a tall, gray haired hunter knelt beside a fallen elk. In another, the same man knelt beside a dead bear.
About ten minutes later, the hunter in the photos walked in, wearing a white lab coat with R. C. Duncan, M.D. monogrammed above the chest pocket.
“Rita told me you can’t seem to find your wife,” the man said as he walked over and perched on the corner of his desk.
“Yes, sir and I don’t know exactly what to do. I thought maybe you might give me some help, or at least an idea where to start looking for her.”
“I’m sure there’s a logical explanation. I’ve never heard of anyone disappearing around here before. I’m sure everything will be okay.” Under normal circumstances, the doctor’s voice and demeanor would have been comforting.
The doctor laced his fingers in front of him as he recounted his visit with Bonnie. “Rita gave me the X-ray of her thumb. It wasn’t broken, but it is sprained pretty badly. That’s a common injury when people fall forward like that. So, I put a splint on it and told her to wear it as long as she feels she needs it. Then she said she’d been sick, vomiting. But it didn’t sound too bad to me. I think she’ll be over it by tomorrow, but I gave her some antibiotics to take. The drug companies send us lots of free samples, so I gave her some of those. I told her to drink lots of liquids. And just in case she’s not better by tomorrow, I wrote her a prescription for something a little stronger. And for her thumb, I told her to just take some Tylenol or Advil.”
“How long were you with her?”
“Oh, about five minutes.”
“When you finished, where’d she go?”
“After we finished, we walked out of the exam room and I remember watching her walk back toward the front desk. People who haven’t been here before get turned around in the hallways, so I usually watch them to make sure they go the right way. Which she did.”
Nothing sounded the least bit unusual. Now it seemed clear to Luke that whatever happened to her, happened after she left the clinic.
“I guess I just have to keep looking,” Luke said as he stood up. He walked over and pulled the door open. “Thanks for your time.”
“I wish there was more I could tell you.”
“There is one thing. Can you tell me how to get to the police station?”
Chapter 5
Luke was a bit confused. “RCMP?” he asked.
“I forgot you’re from the states,” Dr. Duncan said. “Here in Canada, we have the RCMP. The Royal Canadian Mounted Police. It’s our federal police force. You can find their office out past the grocery store about half a mile.”
Something about taking the car made him feel like he was abandoning Bonnie, so again, he walked. He found their office with no problem and when he entered the small lobby it was empty and quiet. Through an open door on the back wall he saw a long deserted hallway. He heard faint laughter and the sound of footsteps and a few seconds later, a very pregnant Native American woman in orange pants and a paisley blouse rounded the corner with her head down as she rummaged through her purse. As she got closer she stopped at one of the doors in the hallway.
“Chief, remember, I won’t be in until noon tomorrow since I’m going to the doctor in Lethbridge.”
When she started toward the waiting room she saw Luke and turned back down the hallway, and to no one in particular, said, “There’s someone at the counter.” As she walked toward Luke, she smiled and said, “Someone will be right with you,” then walked past him and out the front door.
A few seconds later, a man with a gun on his hip stepped into the hallway. He was short, robust, with gray hair and a bushy mustache. He was wearing khakis and a white short-sleeved shirt and looked to be in his late sixties or early seventies.
“Can I help you?”
Luke took a deep breath and said, “I hope so. My wife is missing.”
The man hooked his thumbs in his front belt loops and let his arms rest. He furrowed his brow and said, “What do you mean, missing?”
Luke wasn’t sure where to start, so he started talking. “We were at the clinic, and while she waited to see a doctor I ran a couple of errands. Came back about an hour later and she was gone.” He looked at his watch and said, “That was about noon and I’ve been looking all over town since then and I can’t find her. I don’t know what to do. We’re from Texas and here on vacation, it’s been over four hours and—”
“Hold on, son,” the lawman said, holding up his hands. “Come back to my office.”
Luke followed him into his office and sat across the desk from him.
“Where in Texas?”
“Lampasas. A little town northwest of Austin.”
“What are you doing here in Cardston?”
“We were over at Glacier and my wife got sick, so we came over here to the clinic. Being from Texas, I’m a little confused on what to do here in Canada.”
“I see.” The man reached into the pocket of his shirt and pulled out a cigar. As he unwrapped the cellophane wrapper, he spoke. “It’s a little different here but not that much. I’m Ernest Oliveras, the commanding officer of this detachment, kind of like the chief of police where you’re from. You can call me Ernest.” He stuck the cigar in his mouth briefly, then pulled it out and examined it a few seconds before wrapping his index finger around it.
“Now, start from the beginning and tell me what happened since you got to Cardston.”
As Luke talked, Ernest nodded, and interrupted a few times asking for more details. After a minute Luke stopped and Ernest asked a few more questions.
“You didn’t have a big fight, did you?”
Luke shook his head, “No, sir.”
“And before you came up here, things were good at home?”
“Yes sir, everything’s perfect.”
“Um hum,” he said. “You folks got a bunch of oil wells back in Texas? Lots of money?”
“No oil wells. Not much money.”
“Got any enemies back hom
e? Anyone who’d like to get even with you for something you did to them?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Made any enemies here?”
Luke thought about that guy at the camera store, but was sure that wasn’t anything to worry about. “I don’t think so?”
Ernest leaned back and stuck the cigar in his mouth again but didn’t make any move to light it. He looked out the window and appeared deep in thought then said, “What did she have with her the last time you saw her?”
“All she had was her purse, with the normal stuff in it. You know, billfold, make up, a little cash, a cell phone. But nothing else I know of.”
“Is she on any medication?”
“Nothing much, maybe some allergy medicine, but nothing I know of. She’s real healthy.”
“Is she bipolar? Suffer from depression or anything like that?”
“No sir, about as normal as any woman can be, I guess.”
Ernest smiled and gave a silent chuckle. “I hear you. Does she have problems with her health? You know memory, fainting spells, does she get confused easy?”
“No sir. Like I said, she as healthy as a horse. Even training to run the New York Marathon in November,” Luke leaned forward. “That’s what I’m saying. She’s perfectly normal. I just can’t understand—”
“She ever do anything like this before?”
“No. Never.”
The chief asked, “Do you have any friends in Cardston or anywhere else in the area?”
Luke explained about Rita, the talk Bonnie gave at the workshop, and also about his conversation with Dr. Duncan.
“Did they see her talking to anyone else at the clinic?”
Luke shook his head. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask that question.”
“But they did say they saw her leave alone?”
“No, they didn’t say that.” Luke looked down at the floor and shook his head. “I’m not sure how well the receptionist or anyone else can see the door from where they sit. There’s a little window between them and the waiting room. When you’re in there, you can’t see the receptionist until you walk up to that window.”
“Yeah, I know how it is,” Ernest said. “I’ve been in there a hundred times myself.” He turned his wrist to see his watch. He stood up and said, “It’s been about four and a half hours. Ordinarily, we usually don’t get started on a missing person this quick, but I think we should. Let me get you a form to fill out with all the information and I’ll need a picture of her. Do you have one that’s recent?”