Sara pressed her lips together, wondering when she had turned into Fred Bart's best friend.
He confided, 'Jake comes from a big family, though.'
'Oh?'
'Four older sisters. His baby brother, Tom, died here about six years ago. Overdose.'
'I didn't know.'
'Jake was awful tore up about it. I think that's why he joined the force in the first place. Then, he saw what was really going on, how nobody wanted to tackle the problem. He decided to run for sheriff so he could do something about it.'
Sara wondered if he expected her to take notes. Obviously, Fred Bart was trying to deliver a message to Jeffrey. Jake's a good guy, she thought. Message received.
'Anyway,' Bart said, slapping his knees as he stood. 'You need a ride somewhere?'
'I'm waiting for my husband,' she told him, again wondering how much longer Jeffrey was going to be.
He gave her a wink. 'Lucky man.'
'I'll tell him you said so.'
'You do that now.' Bart flashed a smile, showing her his tiny, white teeth. He walked toward a green pickup truck, and Sara waved at him before going back inside.
Ignoring the dour woman behind the reception desk, Sara walked toward the alcove where they kept the snack machines. She was suddenly hungry enough to eat a horse. That was fitting, since horse by-products were pretty much a key ingredient in most of the snacks on offer.
Jeffrey's cell phone rang and she pulled it out of her pocket, saying by way of greeting, 'Where are you? I'm starving.'
The line was silent, and Sara was about to hang up when Lena said, 'It's me.'
Shock paralyzed Sara for a moment. Foolishly, she looked around, as if she expected Jake Valentine to suddenly appear out of the woodwork and snatch away the phone.
Lena asked, 'Where are you?'
'I'm at the hospital. With Hank.'
She didn't respond immediately. 'Is he okay?'
'No.' Sara looked for somewhere more private, but in the end decided it was best to stay put in case she lost the cell signal. 'We found him in his backyard. Someone tied him up, beat him. He was left there to die.'
'Maybe he wants to die.'
Sara could not believe the cold words she was hearing. 'Some people could argue you're doing the same thing,' she countered. 'Jeffrey knows about Ethan.'
'Ethan's not involved in this.'
'Do you really think Jeffrey is going to believe you? He's going to go to the prison tomorrow. I can't stop him. If anything happens, it's all on you. Do you hear me? It's all on you.'
'Tell him ...' Lena began. 'Tell him I went to tell Ethan that I had an abortion.'
Sara felt her mouth open in surprise.
'It would've been born by now,' Lena said, her voice a scratchy whisper. 'Maybe you and Jeffrey could have raised it.'
Sara leaned against the vending machine, feeling as if she had been stabbed in the stomach.
Lena kept talking. 'I know you can't have kids, Sara. Doesn't it piss you off to know what I did? Doesn't it make you angry that I got pregnant when I wasn't even trying?'
Tears came to Sara's eyes. She shouldn't have started this game because she didn't have the heart to play it.
'Hank took me to the clinic,' Lena continued. 'They put this metal thing inside of me, and they cut it out.'
Sara begged, 'Please stop.'
'I wonder what it looked like when they took it out,' she asked. 'You must know what it looked like, right? You're a doctor. You deal with babies all the time.'
Sara felt the tears come. 'How can you be so awful?'
'Tell Jeffrey everything I've said,' Lena instructed. 'Tell him that everything you've ever thought or said about me is true, Sara. I'm not a good person. I'm not worth saving. Go home. Take Jeffrey with you and go home.'
'I know what you're trying to do.' Sara wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, angry at the manipulation. She wasn't going to be Lena's unwitting accomplice again. 'It's not going to work. You're not going to rope me in.'
'I don't want to,' Lena told her. 'I don't want you here. I don't want Jeffrey here. If Hank lives or dies, I don't care. I just want you both to go back home and forget I ever existed.'
Sara demanded, 'Are you still trying to play me, Lena? I'm not on your level. I don't know how these games work.'
Lena was quiet. Sara strained to hear if there was any background noise, anything that might give away Lena's location. All she heard was a whimpering, almost like a wounded animal. It was Lena. She was crying.
Sara made her voice firm, tried to take charge. 'Where are you? Let us come get you.'
She didn't answer, just kept crying.
'This has gone on long enough. You need to let us come find you.'
'Did you see her?'
'See—'
Lena began to sob. 'The ... woman ... the one in the car.'
Sara tasted the same stench in the back of her throat as she had when she'd performed the autopsy.
'Did you take care of her?'
'Yes,' Sara said. 'Of course I took care of her.'
'She suffered.'
'I know.'
'She suffered, and it was all because of me.'
'Who was she?'
'She was somebody's mother,' Lena cried. 'Somebody's wife. Somebody's friend.' Her voice caught. 'She was somebody's lover.'
'Why are you doing this?'
'Because it's what I deserve! You were right. Everything I touch turns to shit. Get out of here before it's too late.'
'Too late for what?'
'Do you want the same thing to happen to Jeffrey?'
'What do you—'
'Just get out!' she screamed, cutting the line.
Sara held the phone to her chest, unable to move, her heart pounding. Jeffrey. She was scared that something – someone – would get to Jeffrey. In a split second, Sara's mind conjured up the autopsy she'd done on the burned woman, only this time, she saw Jeffrey on the table, Jeffrey burned. Tears came into her eyes. She shook uncontrollably.
'Dr. Linton?' Don Cook asked. He was wearing his deputy's uniform. His hat was in his hand.
'Yes,' she answered, trying to compose herself, wondering how long the man had been standing there.
'You all right?'
'Yes,' she told him, willing her voice not to shake. She closed her eyes for a moment, tried to clear her head of the awful image.
'I'm Don Cook. We met the other night?' He waited for her to nod. 'Your husband asked me to come fetch you and take you to the jail.'
She stared at him, skeptical. 'He didn't call to tell me.'
The man shrugged. 'I was just told to take you to the jail. Jake and your husband are there waiting for you.'
She indicated the phone in her hand. 'Let me just call him first.'
'All right.' He stepped back into the lobby, giving her some privacy.
Sara looked at Jeffrey's phone, wondering what to do. Being a Luddite had once been a source of pride, but now she felt like a backward fool. She knew that Jeffrey's phone stored numbers, but wasn't sure whether or not dialing out would erase the last phone number received. If Lena had called from a traceable line, using the phone might erase it.
Cook poked his head from around the corner. 'Everything all right?'
'I left a message on his cell phone,' she lied.
'Good. Ready?'
Sara nodded. He swept his deputy's hat in the direction of the exit, indicating she should go ahead of him. Outside, she saw the ambulance parked in the bay. The paramedics who had driven Hank to the hospital were leaning against the wall, smoking. They saw Sara and gave her a friendly wave.
Cook's cruiser was parked in a handicapped space, and he walked around to open the passenger-side door for her. The seat was filled with crumpled bags of junk food and several cans of Diet Coke.
'Sorry for the mess. You mind getting in the back?'
Sara felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She was either being really paranoid or
really smart. 'Do you mind if I get a ride in the ambulance?' She saw his surprised look and tried one of her more winning smiles. 'I'll just go with them.'
The ride was quickly negotiated with the paramedics. Sara had made their job a lot easier on the short trip to the hospital and the two men were more than willing to return the favor. Besides, the jail was only three minutes away. Sara felt silly as she rode between the burly paramedics, but she had learned a long time ago to listen to her instincts.
Don Cook was pulling into the parking lot as the ambulance pulled away. He scowled as Sara waved at the departing paramedics.
He got out of his car, mumbling, 'Car's not that dirty.'
Sara suppressed the urge to apologize. Instead, she followed him silently into the building.
'Sheriff's office is up there,' he told her, indicating a set of stairs. 'Unless you want someone else to tell you where it is.'
'No, thank you.' Sara took the stairs, feeling his eyes on her the whole time. She heard children talking as she climbed. In the lobby, three young faces looked up at her from their coloring books. They were on the floor, their legs splayed, faces intent, as they worked their crayons. A teenage girl was on the other side of the room. Her sullen posture indicated she was not pleased to be left in charge.
Sara looked around for their mother, but no one seemed to be in attendance. She was about to question them when Jeffrey opened the door.
'Back here,' he said. Then, noticing her concern, he assured Sara, 'They're okay.'
Sara stepped over one of the children as she walked toward Jeffrey. She whispered, 'I need to talk to you.'
He shushed her, indicating she should hurry. He didn't give her a chance to speak as the door closed. 'We've got a missing persons report.'
'A woman?'
'Her husband came in about twenty minutes ago. Larry Gibson.' 'Any relation?'
'Boyd Gibson's brother. Valentine says he's clean.'
Sara frowned, wondering when Jeffrey had started taking Jake Valentine at his word. She asked, 'How long has the woman been missing?'
'Since last Saturday.'
'I didn't find a wedding ring on the body,' Sara said, though she knew the metal could have melted off in the intense fire. 'If his wife has been gone for six days, why did he wait so long to come forward?'
'She's gone missing before,' he told her. 'Had a drinking problem, dabbled in meth for a while. She's a schoolteacher. Those are her kids in the waiting room.'
'Christ,' Sara whispered. A schoolteacher with three kids. What had Lena said? A mother. A wife. A friend. A lover.
Jeffrey took Sara's arm, concerned. 'Are you okay?'
'You got a call on your phone.' She pressed his cell phone into his hand. 'From an old friend.'
He scrolled through the various screens, saying, 'I had Frank do a trace.' He meant a trace on Lena's phone. 'There's only been one call made from that number since Monday night – to me at the hotel.'
'She said ...' Sara began, her throat going dry. 'She said that the same thing that happened to the woman in the car could happen to you.'
'She'd say just about anything to get us out of here.' Jeffrey frowned at the phone in his hand. 'Number withheld. It's probably listed on my call records, but it'll take a day or two for it to show up.'
'Jeffrey ...'
'Let's deal with the missing schoolteacher first,' he suggested. 'It'll be fine. Okay?'
She nodded, though it was far from okay. Unbidden, that same flash of Jeffrey on an autopsy table came to mind. Her stomach twisted into a knot as she preceded him down the hallway, Lena's words of warning ringing in her ears.
Do you want the same thing to happen to Jeffrey?
Back in Valentine's office, the sheriff was on the business side of his desk. He was writing on a sheet of paper, probably filling out the missing persons report, as the man in front of him gave the details.
'She's just average,' the man said, sounding frightened and angry at the same time. 'I don't know, Jake ... describe your wife. I don't know her height. I don't know her weight. She's just average.'
'That's okay, Larry,' Valentine soothed. 'Listen, I've seen her at church about a million times. I could tell you blindfolded what she looks like. No offense, buddy, but she's a good-looking woman. Am I right?'
The man gave a surprised laugh, as if he'd forgotten that detail. With a pang, Sara recalled the autopsy she'd performed on the man's brother. What if the woman in the Escalade was Larry Gibson's wife?
'Guy can't help but notice a good-looking woman,' Valentine said. 'I'd guess she's around five-six in height. For weight we'll put one-twenty. License probably says one-ten, but you know how women are.' He looked up from his form, saw Sara was watching and winked at her. It wasn't a suggestive wink, more like his way of letting her know that he was just doing his job. Whatever he was doing, it was working. Larry Gibson seemed to be calming down.
Valentine asked him, 'That weight okay with you?'
Larry started to nod. 'Yeah, she's about one-twenty, I'd guess. And I remember now – last time I saw her was around two o'clock. She dropped off the kids at the movies, and when she came back, she got on the phone with her mama. I heard her say she needed to go check on her.'
'Well,' Valentine said. 'Sounds like we need to check with her mama.'
'She didn't go,' Larry countered. 'She was taking a bath, and I asked her was she going to her mama's, and she said no, that she'd told her she'd come by tomorrow.'
Valentine tsked, shaking his head. 'Can't make up her mind.'
'Right, that's what I said,' Larry agreed. 'And then she told me she might still go for a walk and I said maybe later because there was a game on at two-thirty and did she need me to do anything before because I wanted to watch the game.'
'Georgia–Alabama?' Valentine asked, probably to confirm the time. 'Man, that was a good game.'
'Yeah.'
'Did you hear her leave?'
'Yeah,' he repeated. 'Just before halftime I heard the door close. I figured she was going for her walk.'
'Couldn't have been the kids?'
'They were at the movies for that Halloween horror special they advertised in the paper last week.'
Valentine made a note on his sheet. 'Halftime, then. That'd put it at around four, don't you think?'
'Four. Yeah.'
Sara looked at Jeffrey, but he was intently following the interview. She wondered if he was as impressed as she was with Valentine's ability to draw out the details from the concerned husband. The sheriff certainly liked to keep his talents hidden.
'What's that you got there?' Valentine asked.
Larry put a small metal box on the desk. It was old, the cadet blue paint chipped off, showing the gray primer underneath. A rusty lock held the top closed, but Larry easily opened it. 'I wanted to show you,' he said, indicating the contents. Sara leaned forward, seeing a tarnished silver spoon with the handle bent and several unused hypodermics. Tin foil, a few cigarette filters, and a butane lighter rounded out the drug kit.
Larry turned around, as if he'd just realized that Sara and Jeffrey were standing there. He explained, 'She's been clean about six months now. I just brought this to show you' – he turned back to Valentine 'to show you, Jake. If she was using again, if that's why she left, then she would'a taken this. There's a pack in here.' He reached in and held up a small jeweler's bag of dirty white powder. 'There's no way she would'a left this if she was using again. You know that.'
Jeffrey asked, 'Mr. Gibson, I don't mean to interrupt, but why did you take so long to report that she was missing?'
Larry blushed, looking down at his shoes. 'I didn't want to get her into trouble. First thing I thought was she was back on the drugs. I started looking around the house, trying to see if she'd taken anything. All her clothes were still there. She'd even left her purse.' He looked at Sara when he said, 'She always took stuff when she ran off before – usually stuff she could sell. TVs, DVD player, iPod ... she never left her
purse. Women don't leave their purses.'
Sara nodded, as if she could speak for the man's wife.
Larry turned back to Valentine. 'I called around, talked to her mama, her aunt Lizzie. I guess I was just waiting for her to come back home. She always came back. She didn't want to leave the kids. This drug—' He indicated the bag of dope in his hand. 'It does things to your brain. You don't think right. She didn't know what she was doing sometimes. That's all it was. She just needed to let it run its course and then she'd come back and everything would go back to normal.'
Valentine asked, 'Where's her car, Larry?'
'See, that's the other thing. Her car's still in the driveway. If she just took a walk ...' He rubbed his face with his hands. 'I called into the school and told them to get a sub, that she had the flu. I don't think Sue believed me.' He gulped, tears filling his eyes. 'It can't be her in that car on the football field, Jake. I mean, she's run off before. It can't be her. I don't know what I'd do if ...' his voice was high-pitched, pleading. 'We're gonna put Boyd in the ground tomorrow. I thought for sure she'd come back when she heard about him. Boyd had his problems, but he was taking care of himself. He helped Charlotte get through her bad times ...'
'Mind if I look at this?' Valentine asked, but he was already picking up the box.
Carefully, the sheriff emptied the contents onto his desk blotter. He used the tip of his pen to push the hypodermics to the side, then the bag of meth and other paraphernalia. Sara didn't see anything of value unless you were a cop or an addict. Valentine obviously agreed. He tapped his finger on the inside of the box, then picked up his letter opener and used the edge to pry out the plastic lining. The box was so old that it came out in pieces.
'Well,' Valentine said. 'What's this?'
Sara couldn't tell what he had found until he pulled it out – two light blue sheets of paper that had been folded in two.
Valentine scanned the documents before handing them to Jeffrey, apparently unconcerned with fingerprints. Sara read the pages over Jeffrey's shoulder, recognizing them as old applications for birth certificates. Doctors handled the applications now, but back in the seventies, parents were still allowed to fill out all the pertinent information on their own. They were given six days to decide on a name, then were expected to file the application with the birth registration office at the hospital. The registrar would verify the information, then send it to the state.
A Grant County Collection Page 111