by TM Simmons
"Yes. And that will be the last time I speak her name. Our beliefs say we do not speak the name of the dead."
"Why is that?" Channing asked with both interest and to sidetrack the conversation from thoughts of the tiny body, now lifeless.
"The odjitcags, their spirits, or some call them their souls, must make the trip to the land of our ancestors without hindrance. We believe that if we speak their names, it creates a hold that might interrupt their journey. There can be a time when it is truly necessary, but we do our best to avoid that, if possible."
"I see." She bit back the resultant question, but Nodinens eyed her sagely.
"The person who did this will not escape justice," Nodinens said. "However, our Elders and I fear there is more sorrow ahead first."
Channing frowned, and this time she went ahead with the query in her mind. "And you know this how?"
"From the smoke that confirmed the vision," Nodinens said without a hint of hesitation. "We met before I drove over to identify the daughter of my niece, and Gagewin told us of what he saw in his vision quest."
Channing sipped her latte without responding. She was aware of the various beliefs of many different societies, as well as the power of the mind. As a doctor, she had seen so-called miracles over and over again. However, she drew the line at the idea of foretelling future events, despite how intriguing the interpretations of Nostradamus' predictions were. She'd been pulled into the fascination of mystic and new age spiritualism herself for a while, especially after one patient she had given only a month to live recovered without a trace of the horrible cancer ravaging her body.
Were it possible to know of, or even have a hint as to, an approaching disaster or triumph, Rose wouldn't be dead. She would never have left her daughter's side that day.
But you didn't, her mind said. Grant was the one who wouldn't accept his mother's decline.
Still, I saw the signs, she told herself for the hundredth time. I should have reinforced my diagnosis to Grant.
It's your guilt that makes you feel that way, not the truth.
"What the hell?" Channing said aloud. She nearly jumped out of her chair as she spoke, barely catching her latte cup before it tumbled. The liquid that spilled on her had cooled, but it still smarted on the tender skin between her thumb and forefinger. She almost threw the cup aside in reaction, but the elderly lady across from her reached over and took it from her.
Instead of thanking Nodinens, Channing sat back in her chair and stared around the room. Who the hell had said that? The comment about her guilt had rung as clear as a bell in her mind; everyone should have heard it. But no one else in the room appeared to have reacted.
Channing's gaze settled on Nodinens. The tiny woman shrugged.
"I do not know what you heard," Nodinens said. "However, it was evidently something you need to pay attention to."
"How…?" Channing licked her dry lips and reached for her coffee. Nodinens relinquished the cup, but before Channing took a drink, she went on, "How did you know I heard something?"
"Your reaction was quite revealing to one versed in spiritual ways," Nodinens answered as Channing took a welcome swallow of latte. "You may or may not believe the truth about those of us who see and communicate beyond this world. Many times it is only that we are very good at reading people and their reactions. Their body language. Not always, though."
Channing nodded without voicing any of her own beliefs. There was no need to explain Grant's occupation to a woman she might never talk to after today.
Nodinens continued, "I am well aware you have strong convictions suiting your scientific, doctor's mind. But you need to know you are a part of what is to come."
Channing froze, then shook her head. "You've just helped me make up my mind. I have two other places that need a doctor to look at. I'm going to check those out as soon as I can get on the road."
"You may do that," Nodinens agreed, "but you will be back."
Channing left the rest of her coffee on the table as she stood. "It's been nice meeting you, but I need to go see the mechanic. Have a good day."
Channing strode to the door, for some reason expecting Nodinens to call something after her. She even halted and looked back. However, the tiny woman appeared engrossed in her coffee.
Chapter 9
After Channing walked the short two blocks to Gabe's Garage and accepted a ride back to the bed and breakfast with him, she took Gabe's advice and drove the car around a bit to heat the engine. She noted a sign for a casino, and since the road was cleared, decided to use that for her destination. Surprising her, given the recent bad weather, the casino parking lot was full. There was also a huge hotel adjacent to the gambling hall. There hadn't been a vacancy there when she made her abrupt decision to travel here to look at the practice, but maybe there was one now. Deciding to check, she drove into the self-parking lot. She truly didn't want to impose on Annalise's grief and sorrow any longer than necessary.
A while later, she had a room key and started back to her car. The sounds of merriment drew her instead to the casino floor.
Well, maybe not merriment, she thought as she looked at the intense gazes on some of the people at the various machines. Perhaps they're vocalizing their hopes of not losing this month's rent.
Channing liked to gamble, but usually only on the video slot machines. She could lose herself in the flashing lights and bells, the funny little animals and people who prompted her to try just one more time for that jackpot. She only took a certain amount of money and spent a day in Louisiana or Oklahoma whenever she needed that sort of stress relief. Sometimes she won a little, sometimes she lost, sometimes she came out even. She considered what she spent part of her month's entertainment budget.
She dug in her billfold, took out one of the twenties there, and headed for a bank of penny slots. An hour later, she pocketed another twenty, which made this trip one of the come-out-evens, and rose from the stool. She needed to get back to the Lake Sunrise to pack and move. There was even a buffet at the casino, where she could eat that evening. She'd received a free buffet coupon with the player's card she got in order to get her room discount. Although she hadn't dined too often at gambling hall buffets, when she did, she'd found the food fairly palatable.
She didn't find Annalise until she carried her bag down from her room. At first, she only noticed the back of someone's head in a chair facing the fireplace. She set her bag down by the door and approached whoever it was.
"Annalise," she said when the woman looked up at her with red-rimmed eyes. "Again, I'm so sorry about Yancy."
Annalise nodded and replied, "You're leaving us … uh … me. I guess I have to get used to being the sole owner of this place now."
"I thought it best," Channing said. "You'll have a lot to do, maybe some relatives coming in that need somewhere to stay. I already got a room at the casino hotel."
Annalise stood. "Thank you for being so thoughtful," she said instead of protesting. She held out her hand. "If you need somewhere to stay when you come back, please check with me."
Channing accepted the handshake without mentioning she doubted she would return after the roads cleared enough for her to get back to Duluth and a decent airport.
"I wish you the best," she told Annalise. "I hope things work out for you."
Annalise sighed and glanced at the fire. "They have to. I've put a lot of work into everything."
"Well, goodbye, then," Channing said.
"Goodbye," Annalise acknowledged, but didn't turn to look.
Channing shook her head, understanding the woman's deep grief. She still carried a lot of the same emotion with her. Quietly, she walked to the door and retrieved her suitcase. She closed the door silently, realizing someone must have disconnected the bell that announced visitors.
The casino room was more luxurious than she had expected. Of course, she had never stayed overnight in one of their hotels. Her gambling was limited to day trips, then returning home at night, except for whenever she and
Grant had taken a cruise. They hadn't done that after Rose was born.
She barely got unpacked and turned on the television to check the weather before the phone rang. Frowning, she answered it. "Dr. Drury."
"Channing, " Hjak said. "Annalise said you had moved over here. I thought you might allow me to take you to dinner, since you don't know our area."
Channing bit her lip. She'd noticed the sheriff's interest in her, but it wasn't something she wanted to encourage. However, since she was leaving as soon as she could, it probably wouldn't hurt to have the company of a man for one evening.
"Actually," she told Pete, "I have a free buffet coming to me. But you're welcome to join me there."
"A cheap date, huh?" Hjak said with a chuckle. "Well, maybe you'd like to have a drink at the bar before we eat. I'll spring for that."
"Deal," Channing said. "But I want to watch the news and get a shower before I come down. So if you've got something to do for a half hour or so…?"
"There's a machine calling my name," Hjak said. "I'm sure it will keep me occupied for a good half hour. Do you gamble?"
"A little," she admitted. "I noticed a couple bars down there, though. Which one will you be at?"
"The Showboat," he informed her. "It's close to the buffet. You can find it on one of the floor maps."
"I'll see you soon."
The news had just come on the television, and given the interest in such things in this area, the weather was the first topic. It didn't sound good, Channing reflected, as she sat on the end of the bed and listened. Another storm was on the way, but it appeared they would have at least a two-day break before it hit. That should give her plenty of time to get to Duluth.
She took her shower and changed into some different jeans and a green cashmere sweater that highlighted her eye color. She didn't want Hjak to think she had dressed up to meet him, but she didn't have that many clothes with her. In fact, she had rinsed out her underwear and left it to dry on the shower rod.
She did use her makeup unsparingly. The circles under her eyes were embarrassing.
She saw Hjak immediately as she approached the Showboat Bar — and also noticed the man striding away from him. Why did she keep crossing paths with Keoman Thunderwood? She shrugged. Obviously, Thunderwood and the sheriff were involved in an investigation of some sort, probably the death of that small child at the clinic.
She shivered, but quickly straightened her shoulders and pasted a half-smile on her face.
"Hello, Pete," she said when he stared moodily into the drink in front of him rather than looking up at her approach.
Hjak pushed his chair back so quickly, he had to grab it to keep it from toppling. "Channing," he said in a welcoming voice. "Please, have a seat."
He pulled out another chair and seated Channing before he took his own again. "What will you have to drink?" he asked as he motioned for the bar waitress in her skimpy clothing. The woman carried a bowl of tortilla chips and a cup of salsa with her for the table when she came to take their orders.
After Channing requested a Crown and Seven, and Hjak asked for another Jack and Coke, Channing said, "I noticed the man who brought Nodinens' niece to the clinic leaving the table as I came up. Have you found out who harmed that beautiful child?"
"You've met Nodinens?" Hjak asked instead of answering her question.
"We had coffee together after I left your office."
The waitress approached with their drinks, and Channing waited until she hurried away before she repeated, "What about finding the person who murdered that child?"
"Murdered?" Hjak said, then sighed. "Well, there's no hiding it, I guess. I'm sure you're aware that I can't discuss much about an on-going investigation with you. I will tell you that, no, we haven't located any suspect yet."
"It looked like Mr. Thunderwood was angry when he walked away."
"Mr.?" Hjak chuckled. "Keoman would probably laugh at that title. We're pretty laid back around here. But I understand. Down south, you have better manners."
"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Channing said before she took a sip of her drink. "We just have our own way of hiding what we're really saying from you Yankees. For instance, if I compliment you, then end with a 'bless your peapickin' heart,' it means I really loathe you."
Hjak laughed fully, the melancholy erased from his eyes. "I'll remember if you ever say that to me."
Channing bit her lip, then decided she might as well let him know. "I don't believe I'll be taking the position at the clinic. I've got a couple other places I want to check out. They're closer to Texas."
Hjak studied her for a moment. "For some reason, I got the impression you wanted far, far away from Texas."
"For a while, I did." Channing ran a finger up and down the condensation on her glass. "But I made that choice at a time when I shouldn't have been making any major decisions."
While Hjak remained silent, she debated whether to remind him about their earlier discussion, then said, "Your internet investigation uncovered the fact I lost my daughter. Rose was only two. I thought I wanted to get away from the pain, but she's buried in Texas. I need to be closer to her grave."
"I'm so sorry, Channing." Hjak took her hand and clasped it between both of his. "I can't imagine. Both of my kids are off in college now, but they had a couple close calls in their teen years. My heart goes out to you, even if I don't completely know how bad it can hurt."
"Thank you," she said with an effort. He seemed to really mean it, although everyone did in their condolences. Underneath, however, always lingered the I'm glad it didn't happen to me.
Channing gently took her hand back and picked up her drink to take a long, soothing swallow. She could finally feel the alcohol fostering a bit of stress relief. For a couple weeks after Rose died, she had lost far too much time in booze. But she counted herself lucky when she was able to go back to drinking socially without her grief leaving her addicted to the shadow world of alcohol. Still, she always limited herself to two over any evening.
The glasses were small, however, and when she set hers down, there was only a thin layer in the bottom.
"Would you like another?" Hjak asked, motioning the waitress over even before she answered.
She decided to go ahead and accept, even though her stomach was empty. She did dip one of the chips into the salsa to nibble on, though.
Surprising her, Hjak said, "I would like to ask you something about our case."
"Of course. Anything I can do to help."
"You said you noticed Keoman leaving our table. And you're right, he was angry. We had a … a situation here a few months ago. I don't know how you feel about the supernatural?"
His last comment lingered in a questioning tone, and Channing smiled. Maybe it was the drink, although she wasn't an evasive person by nature.
"My ex-husband is an FBI agent," she said honestly. "Do you remember the show X-Files?"
Hjak nodded. "Watched it every week. Do you mean there really is an X-Files office in the FBI?"
The waitress brought their drinks, as well as another bowl of sauce for the chips, this time a cheesy mixture. "It's happy hour," she said. "If you want some cheese sticks and mushrooms, I'll bring you a plate."
"No thank you," Channing said. Then she thought to say, "I mean, I don't, but maybe Pete does."
"We're going to eat after this drink, Sandy," Hjak said. "But thanks anyway. How's your little Lark? Doc Silver said she wasn't feeling real good."
"She has the flu," Sandy said with a sigh. "I missed the free clinic Doc gave for the shots. Someone here called in sick, and they demanded I come to work. One good thing about my husband being laid off is that I don't have to pay a babysitter to take care of Lark. That day he had a job interview, and my mother was able to take care of Lark for a couple hours."
"Oh," Hjak said, "speaking of being laid off. I was talking to Ron over at the Chamber yesterday. He said the phone company is gearing up to replace a lot of their outdated lines in our area. T
hey're setting up a job fair on Monday. But you might tell Walt that he could probably email in a resume and get a jump on the applicants. He's got some experience they need."
Sandy's face lit up and she hugged Hjak and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, thank you, Pete. I'll call Walt on my break."
Hjak blushed but nodded.
"That was awfully nice of you," Channing said.
"Walt and Sandy are decent folks," he said. "They've had it rough since Walt got laid off. But he's one of the good guys, didn't take to drink to drown his sorrow over losing his job. He'll accept any handyman job he can get to supplement his unemployment."
Channing's stomach rumbled and she said, "I think my appetite is summoning me."
Hjak immediately stood as Sandy returned with their drinks. "We can take those into the buffet. They don't mind people doing that."
Sandy set their drinks down, then held out her hand as she said to Channing, "He's right. And I'm sorry Pete didn't introduce us. Still, I'm sure I know who you are. We do so need another doctor here."
Channing shook hands politely. "Well, I —"
"Sorry I forgot my manners," Hjak broke in as he laid some money on the table. "And you be sure and tell Walt I hope he gets one of those jobs, Sandy."
Sandy smiled brilliantly at Pete. "I have a good feeling about this. Thanks again."
Channing waited until they carried their drinks through the buffet line and were seated at the table before she returned to the interrupted conversation in the bar.
"What does my ex-husband's work with the FBI have to do with what your friend Keoman is upset about?"
"Yes, Hjak," someone from the next table said. "I'd like to hear about that, too."
Chapter 10
Channing swiveled to see Keoman Thunderwood behind her. She hadn't noticed the man as they walked to their table, probably because he'd been sat facing away from them. Without an invitation, he stood and walked over to their table, placing his cup of coffee in front of him.