William nodded his head, and the group continued walking down the corridor. A few moments later, Dr. Reese spotted Rebecca D’Arcy and found it was his golden moment to pass the tour to a knowledgeable staff member. It had been over twenty minutes since the tour started, and he was thinking Amanda and Chelsea might eat and leave for home if he delayed much longer.
“Rebecca,” he called out, “could you please come here for a moment?”
Rebecca set the empty food tray she was carrying onto a nearby table and joined the group. She seemed even more radiant than usual to Dr. Reese. He, of course, had no idea why.
“Rebecca,” Dr. Reese said as he motioned to Gwendolyn. “This is Gwendolyn Mercer. She’s the regional director of CDEM.”
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Mercer,” said Rebecca.
“And a pleasure to meet you, Rebecca,” said Gwendolyn.
“They’re here for a tour today,” continued Dr. Reese, “and I was hoping you’d be so kind as to show them the resident areas and the recreation center. Do you have a few minutes?”
“Well, I—” began Rebecca.
Dr. Reese wasn’t going to let her have a choice. Cutting her off and smiling, he said, “Rebecca is one of the staff members I was telling you about. She’s one of the reasons our facility is nationally recognized.”
“I suppose I have a few minutes,” said Rebecca. It was a lie. From the moment Eddie brought her into work, she had been on her feet non-stop, caring for patients.
“Great,” said Dr. Reese. He then looked at Gwendolyn. “You’re in very good hands now. Rebecca knows this facility as well as, if not better than, anyone. I’ll be out front having lunch with my wife and daughter. I’ll make sure we see each other again before you leave.”
“Thanks,” said Gwendolyn. “You go and enjoy your lunch. I’m sure Rebecca will do a great job showing us around.”
Dr. Reese looked at Rebecca. “Thanks again,” he said, before turning and walking quickly down the hallway toward the front door of the building.
Rebecca surveyed the group standing before her and took a deep breath. “Well, for those of you who may not have heard,” she began, raising her voice enough so that those at the back could hear, “my name is Rebecca D’Arcy. I’m the daytime nursing supervisor here at what we lovingly refer to as ‘the Home.’”
Rebecca spotted Fire Chief Paul Redmond, Wes Stein, and Brenda Quintana toward the back of the group. “I see some of you are from Cottonwood, so I hope some of the things I mention will not be too repetitious for you. I guess the first thing we’ll look at is the recreation area—if you’ll all just follow me.” Rebecca turned, and the group followed her down a carpeted corridor toward the recreation area.
Sitting at a nearby table in the dining area, and watching the group following behind Rebecca down the corridor, was Eddie. He had been noting the activities of the group with some interest, not, of course, because he viewed the group as a security threat, but more because of who was now leading the group. He had noticed her brighter than usual aura of loveliness during the ride from town. On this day, there seemed to be something almost magnetic and enchanting in the way she looked and carried herself, and Eddie found it harder than usual not to look at her whenever he could steal a glance.
Outside on the front lawn of the Home, Dr. Reese joined his wife and daughter under the shade of a large cottonwood tree. Except for the apple Chelsea was chomping on, the lunch was untouched.
“Thank you for waiting,” he said, giving his wife a quick peck on the cheek and then sitting next to her on their picnic blanket. “It took longer than I thought.”
“No problem,” said Amanda. “It always does. Cold chicken can’t get any colder.”
Dr. Reese nodded and reached for a drumstick and began nibbling. Chelsea took that as her cue to begin eating the rest of the food and quickly grabbed a piece of chicken while continuing to hold the apple in her other hand.
“Hungry?” Amanda asked, noticing her two-fisted eating.
“I’ve had my eye on this drumstick for twenty minutes, and I just wanted to make sure I got it before Dad,” Chelsea replied, holding up the drumstick like a trophy.
Dr. Reese smiled and through the chewing of chicken, replied, “You know I would never get between you and a chicken leg.” He took another bite of chicken and winked at her. The competition between Dr. Reese and his daughter for chicken drumsticks went back many years. When Chelsea was younger, there were always plenty, but now that she had the appetite of a very active teenager, the rivalry had grown.
“There are plenty of legs for both of you,” said Amanda, carefully picking out a small thigh from the basket. “So, how’s the tour going?”
Dr. Reese chewed his chicken for a second and then responded, “Nothing too exciting. I’m sure the group was probably quite bored with me. I handed them off to Rebecca who, I must say, seemed to be positively glowing today.”
Amanda and Chelsea momentarily locked eyes. Dr. Reese could not possibly understand the thoughts behind the look that passed between them as they nearly simultaneously recalled that the last time they’d seen Rebecca—she had been sitting next to Matthew Duncan at Ernie’s.
“She did, huh?” asked Amanda, between bites of chicken.
“I think she’s pretty all the time,” said Chelsea, finishing up her apple and starting in on her chicken drumstick.
“I’m surprised she’s here today,” said Amanda. “How’d she get out here—bike?”
“No, I had Eddie go pick her up in one of our golf carts. It seems this traffic stoppage hasn’t affected them,” said Dr. Reese, now taking a few large spoonfuls of potato salad from a bowl and placing them on a paper plate.
“That was a pretty smart idea,” said Amanda.
“Thank you,” said Dr. Reese, smiling with mock pride.
The three sat on the blanket a while longer, enjoying the food and talking about the stoppage of traffic and other events of the past day, until finally Dr. Reese came to the topics they all knew were inevitably going to come up during lunch. Two were looking forward to the topics—one was dreading them.
“So, is there any more news about Old Blind Carl and his cane? Or what about this Matthew Duncan character?” asked Dr. Reese plainly as he crunched on a mini carrot and took a sip of iced tea. “He hasn’t been walking around in the buff anymore, has he?”
Chelsea stopped chewing and looked at her mother.
“Well,” said Amanda, “to answer your last question first—no, there’s been no more public nudity today, as far as I’m aware. Have you seen any nude men today, Chelse?”
With eyebrows raised and smiling, Chelsea shook her head but said nothing.
Amanda continued, “And to your first question, about Old Blind Carl, I don’t think he’s been found yet, as far as I know.”
“How do you know that?” asked Dr. Reese.
“Why else would Sparky have picked up the cane from us this morning?” Amanda said. “He must still be missing.”
Chelsea continued her silence, slowly chewing some potato chips and glancing at but never making eye contact with either parent.
“So, you think the cane really might be evidence for them?” asked Dr. Reese.
“That’s what Sparky said would happen, if they didn’t find Old Blind Carl,” said Amanda.
“From what you told me last night, that could be bad news for this Matthew Duncan character,” said Dr. Reese, keeping his attention focused on his wife and not noticing that his daughter had grown silent. Chelsea had picked up a piece of watermelon and was now chewing it very slowly, keeping her gaze down at her paper plate and the small pool of light pink watermelon juice rolling around on it, scattered with tiny black seeds.
“I don’t think Old Blind Carl is dead!” Chelsea suddenly blurted out, looking first at her father and then at her mother.
Dr. Reese and Amanda both stared at Chelsea.
“Who said he was dead?” asked Dr. Reese.
�
��That’s what everyone is implying,” said Chelsea.
“I don’t think anyone is saying that, right now,” said Dr. Reese. “It’s just a missing person’s case, I’m sure.”
Amanda was silent for a moment and then finally said, “Chelse, no one knows what’s happened to him. That’s why we’re all so concerned. I’m just curious to know why you seem so certain that Old Carl is not dead.”
Chelsea looked down at her plate again. She could feel the living wooden grain of the cane in her mind. The images, stories, and truths of the old man’s life came rushing to her anew, with fresh certainty. Her facial expression didn’t change.
“It’s just a feeling I get,” she said. “I dunno…I’m just sure that nothing bad has happened to him.”
“Well, let’s hope you’re right, honey,” said Dr. Reese, looking carefully at Chelsea.
Amanda said nothing.
After a few more moments of silence, Dr. Reese looked at Amanda and asked, “So, what about Matthew Duncan? What sort of a person is he? I mean, besides a nudist.”
“Like I told you last night,” said Amanda, “he’s a very strange person. Wouldn’t surprise me a bit if…” Amanda paused and glanced at Chelsea, who was staring right at her, and then continued, “…at least, he knows more than he’s letting on. Imagine his nerve in telling us that the reason Old Blind Carl gave up his cane was because he was no longer blind. Does he think we’re fools?!”
Back inside the Home, Rebecca was finishing up her segment of the tour. She seemed to have completely charmed the CDEM group and had equally impressed those from the Cottonwood group who had known her for years but didn’t realize she knew so much about the overall operations of the facility.
“Our reason and philosophy for liking the nickname of ‘the Home’ for our facility is simple,” Rebecca said while leading the group back to the main hallway near the front office. “This is home to our residents. They are a family here, and we are part of their family. You were all guests today in their home—in our home. I hope you’ve all enjoyed the tour.”
Rebecca had been so inspiring during her portion of the tour that the group, led by Gwendolyn herself, could not help but give Rebecca a round of applause, after which several members of the group insisted on shaking her hand. The energy and vibrancy of this woman, for whatever the reason, was contagious, and the group left Rebecca and exited the front door of the Home energized and chatty.
When Dr. Reese saw them coming out of the building, he wiped his mouth with a paper napkin, got up from the blanket under the tree, and walked over to meet them at the bottom of the steps.
“And how was the rest of the tour?” he asked Gwendolyn.
“Quite informative and even inspiring,” Gwendolyn replied. “You were right. Rebecca is an incredible asset to this institution. You are fortunate to have such staff, Doctor Reese.”
“I told you I was. They make me look good.”
“Rebecca’s knowledge is exceptional,” interjected Brenda Quintana who was standing next to Gwendolyn. “I had no idea she had such skill. She seems so in touch with her patients and their feelings.”
“Thank you both for saying such kind words,” said Dr. Reese. “I will certainly pass your comments on to her.”
“Well, I think we’ll head back to Cottonwood and sort of wrap up our day,” said Gwendolyn. “If there’s anything you need throughout this emergency, please let us know. We’ll be more than happy to help you out.”
“Thank you for that offer. Outside of some staffing issues, I think we’re in pretty good shape right now. A lot of the staff are doing double shifts, and I think that if this whole thing continues for more than a few more days, we’ll need to figure out a more effective way than our golf carts to get them back and forth each day. Maybe you could help with that.”
“I’d be glad to arrange to get a few electric cars for your staff to use for carpooling and shuttling back and forth to town,” said Gwendolyn as she made a few notes in her notebook. “At this point, of course, we have no idea how long this will last, but we do have one of our top investigators coming on Monday. We’re hopeful he can quickly get to the bottom of whatever is causing this.”
“Thanks for the offer of the electric cars. I’m sure they’ll come in handy if this thing continues. Let’s hope it’s over soon or your investigator does figure it out quickly. My guess is it’ll turn out to be something simple and obvious. Your investigator will probably be in and out of here in a day.”
“That’s what I’m hoping,” replied Gwendolyn as the group slowly meandered over to the electric cars. “If he can’t figure this thing out fast, then there’s not an engineer or scientist I know of who could.”
The CDEM and Cottonwood group got back into their vehicles and pulled out of the parking lot and back onto the main highway. The Colorado afternoon summer sun had heated the interiors of the electric cars to steamy greenhouse temperatures, and all the cars had their air conditioners cranked on high as they headed south on the highway toward Cottonwood.
Dr. Reese watched the cars until they had disappeared around a heavily treed bend in the highway. He then stepped over to Amanda and Chelsea who had been busy loading up the remains of the lunch and now stood next to their bicycles.
“Well, were they pleased with the tour?” asked Amanda.
The doctor nodded. “I think it went quite well. They were most impressed with Rebecca, it would seem. She must have charmed them.”
“Rebecca is charming,” said Amanda. “Maybe it was her extra ‘glowing’ personality that you noticed.”
“Well, she certainly knows her stuff, and she’s always charming.”
“What about tonight?” Amanda asked as she and Chelsea simultaneously lifted legs up to straddle their bikes. “Will you make it home?”
“Lord knows I’m gonna try,” said Dr. Reese. “I’ll probably be driving one of our golf carts home, and I intend on being there by dark, but if not, I sure hope those things have headlights.”
Dr. Reese and Amanda kissed good-bye, and then he put his hand on Chelsea’s back. “Don’t go too fast for your mother,” he kidded and then added, “and watch out for naked men crossing. I don’t think the highway department has put those signs up yet.”
Chelsea smiled and rolled her eyes, and the two women pedaled down the entry road toward the highway, as Dr. Reese turned and climbed the stairs up to the front door. The summer air was sweet and warm and inviting. The stress of being at work two days straight, sleeping poorly the night before, combined with the other issues he’d been dealing with at the Home, made him want to turn around right then and follow his wife and daughter home. Had he known what the next few days would bring, he might well have done so.
Forty-One
The Search Party
Sheriff O’Neil had gathered a group of ten men from Cottonwood to help search along Little Bear River for Old Blind Carl. The group started at McCann Park and began by working their way downstream. Though the road from town ended at the river, a small footbridge crossed over to the other side at the park, and half the group worked the east side of the river while half worked along the west bank. Along with the sheriff, the search party included Vince Pasternack, Duke McKenna, Ernie Martinelli, Judge Reynolds, Ned Quinlan, and several others. After a very short briefing by the sheriff, the underlying assumption of the group was that something had happened to Old Blind Carl near the river at McCann Park, and that his body might have floated downriver and gotten caught in the weeds and heavy brush along the shoreline. Other than the fact that they were looking for Old Blind Carl, the sheriff had been pretty tight-lipped so far about exactly what he suspected or whom he suspected.
They began walking downstream using long sticks to poke into the thick underbrush near the river and lift up branches that hung low into the water. It was a slow and tedious process, and after an hour or so of searching, Judge Reynolds realized he and the sheriff were separated from the main group on their side of the river
, so he seized the opportunity to satisfy some of his growing curiosity.
“So, John,” the judge began while poking a stick in yet one more shrub overhanging the river, “you’ve been pretty secretive about all of this so far. What exactly are you thinking has happened to Old Blind Carl? Why would he be in the river?”
The sheriff looked around and then stepped closer to the judge. “I guess I’m safe telling you,” said the sheriff in a low voice, “but I strongly suspect that Old Blind Carl’s been murdered.”
The judge’s eyes opened up wide, and he shook his head. “Murdered? Who would want to murder Old Carl? What sort of evidence do you have?”
“It’s all circumstantial right now,” said the sheriff, still looking around to make sure the others in the search party were far enough away. “I’ve got Old Blind Carl’s cane back at my office, and I’ve also got the testimony of one of our most prominent citizens who came into possession of the cane from another person whom I believe likely killed the old man.”
“Hmm,” began the judge, lightly rubbing his short gray beard. “But we don’t know, in fact, that Old Blind Carl is dead, do we?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” said the sheriff. “A blind man can’t get around without a cane, right? So the only answer must be that Old Blind Carl isn’t getting around any more at all. A dead blind man doesn’t need his cane.”
The judge thought for a moment, and deep in the unconscious recesses of the logical and legal part of his mind, another possibility appeared for a brief moment, but his rational conscious mind quickly dissolved that possibility from existence. It didn’t fit with the world he thought he knew, and it never formed into a fully conscious thought, nor came close to passing from his lips.
“Well,” said the judge, “I suppose that makes some sort of logical sense. But I still say that there are some big assumptions you’re making here. I always like to see a body when I start using the word murder—I’d at least like to see a lot of blood.”
Touching Cottonwood Page 33