by Mark Bentsen
She didn’t. He reached down, pulled her off and held her in the air by one arm like a rag doll.
“Put me down, you fucking asshole,” she screamed while kicking her legs and swinging her other arm at Willy. Finally he dropped her. She confronted him, ready to fight. “He’s my friend. You’d better leave him alone.”
They both turned to look at Luke, who had moved to safer territory by putting a car between him and Willy. Blood oozed from the scrapes on his face and nose where he’d hit the brick wall. He had finally caught his breath and stood massaging his throat. They locked eyes and Luke tried to make him understand. “Listen to me, I didn’t tell the cops you did anything. I told them you talked to my wife at the clinic. That’s all.”
“I didn’t do nothing to your wife.” Willy pulled a wadded-up handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed blood from the top of his head where Doc had nailed him with his crutch. As Willy backed up, Joey got in his pickup and backed out of his parking space. Willy started toward it. When he turned away, Luke noticed he no longer wore the diamond stud earring he had on in the clinic. Now a small gold cross filled the pierce in his left ear. It was a unique design. Ricky Wilson, a friend and jewelry designer in Austin, had made it for Bonnie as a wedding gift. It was one of a kind and she always wore it.
“Hey, wait. Where’d you get that earring?”
“Fuck you!”
Luke was right behind him, following just out of reach, as Joey’s truck pulled up. Willy slid into the passenger seat.
“That’s my wife’s earring,” Luke shouted.
As Willy slammed the door, he turned to Luke and gave him a defiant glare. “Screw you,” he said as the tires spun and the truck raced out of the parking lot.
Chapter 22
While Queenie and Doc helped Luke gather his groceries from the sidewalk she asked, “You think that earring Willy was wearing was your wife’s?”
“It looked just like it,” he said as she handed him the steak and the bag with the salad in it. “And Bonnie never takes them off.”
Griz walked up, holding two leaking beer cans in one hand and the rest of the twelve-pack in his other. “Sorry about the brewskis, bud, but I had to do something to keep Joey from helping Willy. These are wasted, but the others are okay—just a little shook up.”
Luke waved him off, “Keep them if you want them.”
“Thanks bud, but we don’t drink.”
“You don’t?” Luke said with a look of disbelief. He had always heard that most of the homeless were alcoholics or drug addicts. “None of you?”
“Hell no,” Queenie said peering up at him from her diminutive height. “No booze and no drugs. Being homeless and unemployed is hard enough without being a drunk, too.”
Luke raised his eyebrows and smiled. “That’s interesting. You guys surprise me.” He tossed his supplies into the Jeep and climbed into the front seat. “Thanks for helping me out back there. I think Willy would have killed me if you hadn’t been here.”
“He was pissed, that’s for sure. I’ve known Willy for a while now. He likes to make people scared of him, but I don’t think he woulda killed you.”
“How do you know Willy?”
“I met him at AA.”
“Wait a second,” Luke said, as he held up a hand. “AA? Like Alcoholics Anonymous?”
“Sure, down at the community center on Mondays and Thursdays. Part of his parole was that he had to go to AA meetings. We go too because they got good food and we can clean up in their bathrooms. We never miss it.”
This homeless trio continued to surprise him.
“He looked mad enough to kill me.”
“He’s not a killer, I don’t care what nobody says. That first guy he killed was an accident. Willy didn’t even start the fight. They say he killed another guy, but who knows. There are all kinds of stories about Willy. You know, like the time he killed a full-grown grizzly with that knife he carries.” Queenie shook her head slowly and looked from Doc to Griz. “But, he’s not a killer, is he?”
“I don’t think so,” said Doc. Griz shook his head.
“But what about the earring?” Luke asked as he cranked up the engine.
“Willy’s not stupid,” Queenie said confidently. “If he had something to do with your wife’s disappearance, he’s not going to run around town wearing her earring unless he wants to get caught.”
“Maybe so. But, I’ve never seen another one like it. I’ve got to get the cops on this right now,” Luke said as the black Jeep started to roll forward. “Thanks again for helping me out.”
***
When Luke walked in the reception area of the RCMP office it was deserted. He yelled down the hall and half a minute later an officer came out wiping his mouth with a paper napkin.
“Sorry, I was eating dinner back in the break room and didn’t hear you come in.”
“I’m Luke Wakefield and I have some important information for Paul.”
“I’ve got a call into him already. When he checks in, I can give him a message if you want me to.”
“How about Ernest?”
“I think they’re together because I tried him, too.”
Luke left a message and then headed back to the ranch.
Back at the bunkhouse he dropped the groceries on the table then stepped in the bathroom to look at his face. Where Willy had smashed him into the wall his cheek, nose, and forehead were skinned and his neck was still red where the huge hands tried to strangle him. In the medicine cabinet behind the mirror he found some hydrogen peroxide and dabbed it on the wounds to clean them.
Back in the kitchen he grabbed a beer then went out back where the Elvis and Buddy were waiting for him. After he cleaned up the old barbecue pit he started a fire. It would take at least twenty minutes before the coals were ready so he headed for the barn.
Lauren’s father’s small office was unlocked, and he stepped inside and flipped on the light. In the middle of the desk he saw a stack of unopened mail beside a dusty black telephone. From underneath it he retrieved a thin directory for Cardston. He thumbed through it looking for Dr. Duncan’s name. He wasn’t expecting to find it since most doctors don’t list their home phone numbers, but there is was, Duncan R.C. After he dialed the number, he checked his watch. It was almost nine. The phone rang five times before he answered.
“Dr. Duncan, this is Luke Wakefield. I hate to bother you at home this late but I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions.
“Luke Wakefield?”
“Yes, sir. I’m the guy from Texas whose wife disappeared. You saw her Tuesday morning. She had a sprained thumb. I came in and told you she had disappeared.”
“Oh, yes. She’s still missing?”
“Yes, sir. Do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions?”
“No, not at all.”
“I spoke to someone who was at the clinic at the same time my wife was there. She said that my wife came out and paid her bill just before noon, but before she left, a nurse told her you wanted to see her before she left, so she took her back again. You didn’t mention that earlier when I talked to you.”
“No, she didn’t bring her back to see me, because I wasn’t there. I left right after I saw her—men’s bible study every Tuesday at noon. Rita knows that. I’ll bet she had a question or needed some more information.”
“That’s interesting, because they said the nurse said you wanted to see her.”
“Not me. I imagine someone got things mixed up.”
Luke knew he wasn’t mixed up, but he continued. “Okay, one other thing: I understand you have an apartment connected to your office.”
“Yes, I do. How’d you find that out?”
“It came up when I was asking questions around town.”
“I see. I haven’t used it in years. Lately it’s become somewhat of a junk room. Why? Do you think I hid you wife in there?” Luke noted a defensive tone in the doctor’s voice.
“No, sir,” Luke said with a li
ght chuckle. “The person I talked to said she thought she saw some people carry a rolled-up carpet out the back door and put it in a white van. Maybe a carpet cleaner’s van.”
“Who’s the person that told you this?”
“Marinel Hayes. Do you know her?”
“Marinel? Sure, known her all her life.”
“Can I believe what she tells me?”
“I guess so, but, in this case, I’m sure she’s mistaken. If she was driving past the alley, she probably didn’t get a good look at the truck. I bet it was the linen service we use. They bring us sheets, lab coats, gowns, and towels several times a week. That’s probably what she saw.” There was a pause and he continued, “And none of my employees would have been in my apartment without my permission.”
“And no one else would have been in there?”
“No, I’ve got the only key.” He cleared his throat and said, “Son, I’m sure you’re doing everything you can to find your wife, but I don’t think anything happened to her at the clinic, or in my old apartment.”
“But Marinel said she saw a rolled-up rug being carried out of your apartment.”
“No one’s been in there for months. Lately it’s become a bit of a storeroom, a junk room. But, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. First thing tomorrow, I’ll check with my staff and see what I can find out. Call me about ten and I’ll let you know what they say.”
Luke thanked the doctor and hung up.
When he got back to the pit, the coals were perfect so he put the steak on the grill. He brought the salad out and munched on it while the steak cooked. When he finished he nursed his beer as he watched the cattle graze beyond the fence.
When the steak was ready the dogs watched closely as Luke used his pocketknife to cut his first bite. He savored the beef and for the first time all day, he relaxed.
But his enjoyment was short-lived. He had barely taken his second bite when he heard a car door slam on the other side of the bunkhouse. Probably Lauren coming over for the rental papers on the Jeep, he thought. But then another door slammed. He stood and walked over to the side of the building and saw a black-and-white police cruiser in front of the bunkhouse. Paul was standing on the driver’s side and Ernest was on the passenger side.
“Did you get my message?” Luke said as he chewed on his steak.
As they walked closer, Ernest focused on Luke’s face. “What in the world happened to you?”
“I ran into Willy at the grocery store,” Luke said, gently touching his forehead, “and he wasn’t too happy that I talked to you.”
Ernest examined the raw skin a little closer. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Did you get my message?”
“Yeah, we did. Tell me about this earring.”
“When we got married, a friend in Austin made some earrings especially for Bonnie and said he wouldn’t use that design again. They are simple gold crosses but the workmanship is unique. I can’t describe it, but his initials are on the back: RW. If you want me to, I’ll call Ricky and have him send you a picture of them. And you can compare it to the one Willy’s wearing.”
“I’ll let you know if I need that,” Ernest said as he glanced at his partner. “But Paul’s got some information that has changed our investigation.”
“You have? What is it?” Luke asked inquisitively.
Paul pulled a small spiral notebook out of his shirt pocket and flipped it open. “We’ve come up with some more information and we’ve concluded your wife left of her own free will.”
Luke stepped back and with a confused expression. “What are you talking about?”
“When you filled out the missing persons report, we asked for all of your credit cards. You didn’t mention a Discover card.”
“A Discover card? Oh shit, I forgot about that one. Bonnie just got that one a couple of months ago so she could separate her business expenses from our personal stuff. I don’t even carry one.”
“We found that she bought a bus ticket to Calgary about noon on Tuesday. The bus left at twelve-fifty. The ticket agent said she remembers selling a ticket to a lady with red hair and a brace on her arm.”
“Oh, bullshit,” Luke spit out vehemently.
“There was also an airline ticket, Calgary to Dallas, bought with the same credit card. And the airline confirms that Bonnie Wakefield was on the plane that left at six forty-five Tuesday night,” Paul said, glancing at Ernest.
Luke listened as Paul rattled off more information from his little notebook, “We’ve been in touch with the bus company and they contacted the driver of that run, Olin Carnell. He’s been driving for Greyhound for twenty-six years. We faxed them a photo and he said he’s pretty sure it was her. He said the bus had only about a dozen passengers on it from here to Fort Macleod and he remembers her sitting alone near the back of the bus.”
Regardless of how much it sounded like her, Luke refused to believe it. He backed away and shook his head. “It wasn’t her.”
Paul continued. “I talked to the driver. He remembers her because she was in the back and keeping to herself. She never took off the big sunglasses she had on.”
“She didn’t have her sunglasses. I found them in the alley, remember?”
“Yeah, I know that’s what you said,” Paul said, glancing at Ernest.
“Anyway, the driver said that at Fort Macleod the bus filled up and he couldn’t tell us much more about her, other than she did get off in Calgary, and she didn’t have any luggage.”
“It’s not her! He’s wrong, you’re all wrong. There’s no reason Bonnie would do that.”
Ernest said, “Paul’s going to Calgary tomorrow morning to meet Mr. Carnell and get his statement. We’ve already taken a statement from the girl at the bus station. We have no reason to doubt what she has told us.”
“This is insane. Bonnie and I haven’t had any problems since we got back together.” He looked from Ernest to Paul for confirmation. Both watched him without expressions. “You’ve got to believe me.”
“You said you have only been back together since February, that’s only five months. Don’t you think it’s possible she changed her mind and just decided to go home?”
“Absolutely not. If there was a problem she would have talked to me about it.” He ran his fingers through his hair and commanded them, “You can’t quit looking for her.”
“Luke you haven’t been honest with us since this whole thing started,” Ernest said. “Time after time, your version of the truth in reality has been lies. You need to be honest with yourself now.”
“No. You’re wrong. You don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”
Luke couldn’t stand to hear any more bull shit about Bonnie. They didn’t know her or him or anything about their relationship. All he wanted now was for them to be gone. The information he got from Marinel didn’t matter anymore. Their minds were made up, and regardless of what he told them, it wasn’t going to change anything.
Ernest took a step closer to Luke and pointed a finger at him. “We do know what we’re talking about and the facts don’t lie. Here’s the truth as I see it: You hit her one too many times and she finally did the right thing and left you. I’d bet that by the time you get back to Texas you’ll find that she’s already moved out.” Luke saw a vein in Ernest neck throbbing and his face was getting redder. “Women like her are used to being beat up. She covered for you because she knew if she didn’t, she’d pay for it later.”
“I’ve never hit her,” Luke said through gritted teeth.
“I know your type, Luke. You are every woman’s worse nightmare. I’ll bet you can’t wait to find her so you can beat the tar out of her again.” Ernest inhaled deeply and stepped back. He held his chin high and said, “Now, we’re done here. This case is closed.”
Luke watched as Ernest turned and started walking away. Then he stopped and turned back to Luke. “And, one more thing: We’d appreciate it if you’d leave Cardston as soon as you can. We don’t need your
type here.”
Paul hesitated as Ernest walked away, then said, “If you’d like I’ll let you know what the bus driver says after I talk to him tomorrow.”
It was over. It was no use. Luke gave him a cold stare and said, “Don’t bother.”
Paul gave a half shrug and said, “I’m sorry, Luke.”
Luke looked Paul in the eyes and shook his head, then turned and walked away. He knew now it was up to him to find Bonnie.
Chapter 23
Luke walked around to the back of the bunkhouse trying to keep his temper in check. He was so mad he could eat nails. When he heard the Crown Victoria drive away he started to pace across the back porch. To think Bonnie had hopped on a bus to Calgary and flown back to Texas was beyond ridiculous.
For ten minutes he couldn’t hold a thought, all he wanted to do was beat the crap out of that old man. Now Luke was considered a wife-beater, and probably every law enforcement agency in Canada would know about it before he could get out of the country.
He went to the refrigerator and grabbed another beer. When he got back to the porch he noticed Elvis and Buddy sitting beside the table where his T-bone sat cooling. It was scrumptious ten minutes ago, but now, his appetite was gone. He stepped over to the table, cut the meat in half and set the plate down in front of the dogs. Elvis grabbed the piece with the bone and ran off in one direction, and Buddy grabbed the rest and went the other way.
Luke took several long draws on the beer while he paced. It took at least ten minutes before his blood pressure settled down enough to actually think of something other than pistol-whipping the old man with his own gun.
But, he knew staying mad wasn’t going to help anything. He had to do something. And now he had to follow his strongest lead.
He changed into blue jeans and boots and headed for town.
It was nearly dark when Luke found The Stampede on the north side of town. It looked like a Texas honky-tonk that passed its prime thirty years ago. The old wooden building was about half the size of a high school gymnasium and he could see where the tin roof had been patched at least a dozen times. The dirt parking lot was packed but he found a space between two pickups that looked like they’d been hauling hay all day. As he walked toward the front door he heard the whine of live country music reverberating off the wooden walls of the dancehall.