Touching Cottonwood

by Randall Simpson

  A moment later, Agent Westmore’s cell phone rang. He looked at the caller I.D. and recognized his boss’s number. “What’s up, Harry?” answered the agent.

  “Hi, David,” said Harold. “Well, a lot’s up, buddy. They caught your man. Matthew Duncan’s in custody.”

  “What?!” exclaimed Agent Westmore so loudly into his phone that Officer Burnham took notice, and even Max and Chloe’s ears perked up, as much as a hound’s droopy ears can. “You’re kidding! Where?”

  “We got a call from Colorado. Seems the sheriff in some small town called Cottonwood nabbed him last night. It’s the same town we’ve all been watching on the news—you know, the Dead Zone and all?”

  “Yeah, I know about the Dead Zone,” replied the agent as he looked over at Officer Burnham, who was conspicuously trying to look busy but doing nothing at the front desk. “I don’t fucking believe it!”

  “You sound disappointed,” said Harold.

  “Uh, Harry, I’m standing here in a Colorado State Patrol office about thirty miles north of Cottonwood right this second. I was heading down there myself but got stuck in a little detour related to the Dead Zone.”

  “Uh…well, sorry about that. At least you’re in the area. When this Dead Zone thing gets cleared up, you can just go in and pick him up. Superintendent Tremont is going to be thrilled.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m overjoyed for Tremont,” said Agent Westmore. “Looks like I’ve got a ride into Cottonwood tomorrow. So…from whom do I get the pleasure of picking up Mr. Duncan—damn it, Harry—who’s the clown that’s gonna get credit for his arrest?”

  “His name is Sheriff John O’Neil. His office is right on Main Street. He said you can’t miss it.”

  “Wonderful. I’ve driven a thousand miles, and some small-town hick sheriff arrests my man when I’m thirty miles away. Christ…I need a vacation.”

  “You can have one when you get back with Mr. Duncan, I promise,” said Harold.

  “Thanks,” said Agent Westmore. “See ya in a few days.”

  After he hung up, David Westmore simply stared in the general direction of the coffee table but was really looking at nothing. He was tired, frustrated, discouraged, and caffeinated all at once. He was right, and his instincts were right; he was close—but not close enough.

  “Sounds like they got your escapee,” said Officer Burnham after a moment. “I’d be pissed, too.”

  Agent Westmore nodded and looked at the officer. “So, you must know this Sheriff O’Neil?” he asked.

  Officer Burnham smiled and nodded. “Oh yeah, John and I go way back. He’s a good lawman. Didn’t care much for him when I was younger and living in Cottonwood, but now that we’re both in law enforcement, we actually get along fine. We have an arrangement on how the state patrol sets up speed traps near his town, and he even helps me out once in a while, when I use Max and Chloe to track someone. You can at least take some comfort from the fact your escapee was captured by a good man, and also, since John undoubtedly knows Matthew Duncan, I’m sure he’s taking real good care of him.”

  Agent Westmore thanked Officer Burnham for his hospitality, and they exchanged contact information. The officer gave the agent directions to the Slumberjack, and the two agreed that if the agent ever made it to Colorado again, Officer Burnham would show him some of his secret fishing spots—all guaranteed to be well-stocked with an ample supply of trophy rainbow trout.

  “And don’t forget to stop in at the Tasty Burger,” the officer added with a wink as Agent Westmore headed out the front door.

  As he drove to the Slumberjack, Agent Westmore began to reflect on his situation and his one-day detour in Montrose. It wasn’t all bad. He had secured a ride into Cottonwood and would eventually return to Washington State with the man he’d come for. Now, at least, there was no particular hurry to get down to Cottonwood. He could relax for the night. Matthew Duncan was safely behind bars and under the capable supervision of Sheriff John O’Neil. In the end, the breadcrumbs had led the agent to an accurate end of the trail but a hollow victory.

  Though it was only mid-afternoon, he began planning ahead for a special evening—in celebration of somebody else capturing Matthew Duncan. Once he checked in at the Slumberjack, he planned to retrieve the bottle of exceptionally fine whiskey from the trunk of his car, as a special toast was always a tradition with him. He would then go back to his room and sprawl across the bed, laying there in much the same “lumberjack style” he’d seen on the signs—only he’d be in his T-shirt and underwear. But true to form of the lumberjack, he’d also have his socks on—black polyester rather than wool. There, on what he was sure would be a bed-bug infested or at least suitably lumpy mattress, he’d make several toasts and drink until he fell asleep to some totally unsatisfying and barely worth the effort cable movie. Rather than an axe, resting next to his bed would be a more empty than full whisky bottle. Above all, he promised himself, though the roadside signs for the Slumberjack had bombarded him all the way from Grand Junction and eventually won out, he would not, under any circumstances, allow Tim’s World Famous Tasty Burger to win. With a belly full of whiskey—there’d be no need for food.

  Fifty-Three

  An Empty House

  After Eddie dropped Rebecca off at the curb, she watched him drive away in the golf cart until he was down the street and out of sight around the corner. She found the front door of her house unlocked, which would be unusual if she was still living alone, as she always locked her door, but with Matthew there, she didn’t think it strange.

  “Hello?” she called, as she stepped into her front room. “Matthew? Hello?”

  She checked the kitchen and noticed that the sliding glass door was open, but the screen was shut. She looked out into the backyard. There was no one, though she did notice a candle burning on the table. He can’t be far away!

  “Matthew?” she called out through the screen door. “Are you out there?”

  She turned and went downstairs, checking the basement and then the rest of the house, ending up in her bedroom. The bed was made, and there were three piles of nicely folded clothes and sheets on it. She touched the shirt on top of one of the piles. It was her “Gardening is Life” T-shirt. He did the laundry after all!

  She moved into the bathroom, no longer looking for Matthew but something else. She spotted it, still sparkling the way she’d remembered it, right where she’d seen Matthew set it. But it now rested on top of a folded piece of paper. She slipped the ring on her finger, admiring its perfect fit, and then unfolded the paper. It was a note from Matthew:

  My Dearest Rebecca,

  If you are reading this note, it means that things are falling into place as I thought they might. There will be challenges ahead for us—and no doubt some dangers as well. The path ahead may not be an easy one, but you must trust me that it is necessary. If you are faithful to our love, as I tell you that I will always be, then things will work out and allow us to be together again.

  Please remember these words in the hours and days ahead—The first time you will hear my footsteps again, I will be in bondage; the second time you hear them, I will free you but then will be taken from you; the third time you hear them, I will return to you forever.

  Know that I have been honest with you and have never lied to you. If I were there with you at this moment, I would hold you and wipe the tears from your eyes, but please have faith in us! You are my star and my fullness. You, Rebecca, my sweetest wife and dearest love, are the other half of my soul.

  Love,

  Matthew

  She read the note twice more. Though some of the words were strange and confusing, her eyes were now filling with tears; whatever the odd words meant, it was clear that Matthew was gone. She seemed paralyzed and frozen to the spot where she stood. She looked at herself in the mirror. With streaks of wetness flowing down her cheeks, she managed to raise her hand and wipe them away, only to be replaced by more. She looked down at the nearly luminescent ring on her finger
. What does it all mean? What could it mean?

  Fighting back the tears, she moved her body into action. She slipped out of her nursing uniform and went to the shower. The hot water washed over her in energizing rivulets. She would search the town. She would ask everyone she knew if they’d seen him. There was no way out of Cottonwood, so unless he decided to walk, he must still be in town. As she was nearly done with her shower, she remembered the answering machine. Maybe Matthew left more information there!

  She dried herself quickly, grabbed a lightweight robe from the closet, and rushed out to the answering machine. There were six messages. She tried to remember how many times she’d called, but couldn’t.

  The first message was a hang-up. The second message was from her mother. The answering machine showed it had been received on Saturday evening:

  “Hello, sorry to bother you on your first day as newlyweds, and I promise not be the pesky mother-in-law, but I just wanted to call and say thank you for including me in the ceremony last night. I’m so thankful to have been part of your special day. Of course, I’ve always imagined your wedding a bit differently, but I guess you can’t stop the impulse of love. I never thought I’d see you get married while I was wearing my pajamas and standing next to a yellow lab. I’ve got to tell you, it all happened so fast, it seemed like some kind of a dream. I even woke up this morning and wondered if it was a dream. I know you’re on your honeymoon and all, but I do have a question for you, honey, so please give me a call when you get this. I love you. Bye.”

  The next message was the first time she had called home from work. She skipped forward to the next one. It was again her mother and was received early Sunday morning:

  “Hello honey. I heard via the grapevine that you might have gone to work yesterday, after all. I still have a question for you. Give me a call. Love you. Bye.

  The next message was the second one Rebecca had left from work. She skipped forward. The next was from Judge Reynolds, also from Sunday morning. He said:

  “Hello Rebecca. I didn’t see you in church today, so I’m guessing maybe you’re at work, but I wanted to make sure you got this message as soon as you got home. These are very confusing times for everybody, and I’m not sure how to tell you this in the best way, so I’ll just be direct. Matthew was arrested by Sheriff O’Neil last night. He’s being detained at the sheriff’s office. I don’t know all the details surrounding his arrest, but I can tell you that jail rules allow for one visitor a day for up to fifteen minutes, so it might be best to talk with Matthew directly to see what this is all about. Finally, please know that Gayle and I have not told anyone about your marriage. Your secret is safe with us as long as you want it to be—we can promise you that. Please call if you have any questions. Good-bye.”

  She felt dizzy and took a deep breath. She wanted to cry but suddenly couldn’t. The answering machine automatically played the next and final message. It was her message just before she’d left the Home with Eddie: “…and I’m praying you’re home when I get there!”

  Her prayers had not been answered, but at least she knew where he was. She picked up the phone and was about to dial her mother but changed her mind. She quickly got dressed and left her house, heading for Main Street and the sheriff’s office.

  Fifty-Four

  Coffee Cake Revelations

  There was a sense of urgency in Judge Reynolds’ voice during his phone call to Diane D’Arcy. He was insistent that he and Gayle needed to speak with her as soon as possible. He offered to come over to her house and even bring some coffee cake. Based on the judge’s insistence, along with all that she had heard during the hen session at Irma’s Quilt & Sew, Diane was more than ready to talk to someone she trusted about her daughter and, more importantly, her new son-in-law.

  The three of them sat down at Diane’s dining room table with a delicious looking coffee cake, baked fresh by Gayle after church. The cake was covered with liberal amounts of pecans, all smothered with a gooey mixture of brown sugar and cinnamon. Diane had made coffee, which was decaf, as it was afternoon, and she never drank caffeinated after lunch.

  “I’m actually happy you called,” said Diane to the judge. “I heard some very disturbing news—or rather gossip, yesterday. The two of you are probably the only ones I can speak openly with about it.”

  The judge looked at Gayle and then back to Diane. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I think it could be related to what we have to speak with you about. I’m afraid we’ve got some bad news to tell you. We were hoping to get to you first, before the local gossip circuit.”

  Diane could feel her chest tighten. She hesitated. “I’m afraid of what you might have to say, but you go first, before I tell you what I’ve heard.”

  The judge took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “There’s no easy way to tell you this, so I’ll just come out with it all—last night Matthew was arrested by Sheriff O’Neil. He’s being held at the sheriff’s office right now.”

  “Oh my god!” exclaimed Diane. As she said this, Gayle reached over and put her hand on Diane’s shoulder. “Amanda was right,” Diane said softly.

  “Amanda?” asked the judge. “I’m not sure how she found this out.”

  “She seems to know everything—we all know that about her,” said Gayle as she rubbed Diane’s shoulder. Diane remained silent, but tears began streaming down her face.

  The judge looked at Diane and said slowly, “I thought the sheriff was being pretty careful who he told about this, but I guess Amanda is always surprisingly resourceful.”

  “This is so awful,” said Diane through her tears. “I need to talk to Rebecca…but tell me honestly, Richard…did they find Old Blind Carl’s body?”

  The judge squinted as he looked at her. “I don’t think so—but I’m not sure I understand. What’s that got to do with Matthew’s arrest?”

  Diane stared at the judge for a moment, then finally said, “Wasn’t he arrested for doing something…to Old Blind Carl?”

  “Oh my, no, that’s not it at all,” said the judge. “Is that what Amanda said?”

  “That’s what she implied. She let the whole group know, in her eloquent and certain terms, that Matthew Duncan was somehow involved in the disappearance of Old Carl—and that it was just a matter of time before the sheriff arrested him for it.”

  “Well, I can tell you that Old Blind Carl’s disappearance had nothing to do with Matthew’s arrest yesterday,” said the judge emphatically. “However, I’m not sure it will be easy for you to hear what he was arrested for.”

  Diane clenched her jaw tight and looked at him. “Better to hear it from you than the gossip group,” she said. “Let me have it.”

  “Well,” said the judge slowly, “it’s kind of complicated, and I only know as much as the sheriff’s told me, but apparently Matthew Duncan has some sort of criminal past, and there was a warrant out for his arrest from the State of Washington. It looks like he escaped from prison up there.”

  “Oh god…” Diane said softly as she began sobbing again and put her hand over her face. Gayle stood up and put her head on Diane’s and an arm around her shoulder.

  Diane sobbed quietly for a few moments as the judge remained silent, and Gayle rubbed her back. Finally, with teary and now reddened eyes, Diane held her head up and looked at the judge. “I really do need to speak with Rebecca,” she said. “I haven’t seen or spoken to her since we left your house Friday night. I guess she got called into work yesterday because of this transportation mess. I wonder how she’s taking this? Pardon me for a minute.”

  Diane stood up from the table and walked into the kitchen and dialed Rebecca’s number. The answering machine picked up. She also tried her cell phone and only got the prompt to leave a message, which she did, saying:

  “Rebecca, honey, I just heard about Matthew. I’m so sorry. I don’t know everything that’s going on, but I want you to know, as always, I’m here if you need me. Please call me as soon as you get this. I may go down t
o Main Street or come by your house to look for you…I love you, honey…Take care.”

  Diane walked back into her dining room, where Gayle had once more taken a seat next to her husband.

  “This world’s such a crazy place,” Diane said, now finding a bit more strength in her voice. “I just can’t believe all this is happening. Everything seems to have gone crazy since Friday, and Matthew seemed like such a wonderful man for her. She was so stuck on him for so many years, and then she thought he’d just disappeared from the planet, and then he comes back, they quickly get married, and now this. It’s just too much. I need to go look for my daughter.”

  “There is one little issue I think we should discuss before you leave,” said the judge rather seriously. “It’s a matter of the promise we all made.”

  Diane looked at him. “You mean the wedding gift promise? I haven’t broken that promise yet, but I suppose this could complicate things.”

  Gayle jumped into the conversation. “Richard and I have talked about this already, and we are convinced that as promised, no matter what, we will not tell anybody that Rebecca is married to Matthew, unless she tells us that it’s okay. She may be married to a wanted man, or a convict, or whatever he is, but her secret—their secret—is safe with us. A promise is a promise.”

  Diane looked at Gayle and the judge and saw the sincerity and conviction in their eyes. “I respect you both for that. As promised, we’ll let them—or at least Rebecca—decide when she wants the town to know who her husband is. You are such dear and wonderful friends—thank you.”

  After brief hugs, the Reynolds left Diane’s home as she locked up and headed toward Main Street. She would first look there for Rebecca and then, if unsuccessful, go over to her daughter’s home. Her initial destination would be the sheriff’s office. She knew she would need to be clever so as not to raise suspicions as to why she was nosing around there.