What I wanted to say was: And how come your men didn’t see her? It was their job to see her! But I didn’t say that. I just sat there and hung my head. I knew I looked guilty. “Sir, I don’t know anything,” I barely whispered. I raised my eyes to meet his as he faced me again.
“Now, Mr. Sequoyah, I understand you’re a good worker. You mind your own business for the most part.” He was pacing now. “But we’re talking about the missing child of a foreign diplomat during wartime. Now, I also understand that your affliction keeps you from serving your country with your peers, but there are other things you can do to be of service. I want you to think real hard about the last few days. I want you to remember everything about those days. You don’t want this to turn into some international incident, do you?”
“No, sir.”
“Tell me about the bone.”
I thought about denying I knew anything of any bone. But then I thought about Essie. She had clearly given them some information, and my denial would either land me further in trouble or place blame on her. At least he wasn’t asking about my attempt to sell bear parts, not unless he thought the bone was bear. “I found a bone when I was gathering branches on the property.”
“And you didn’t think it was important to tell anyone in authority?”
“No, sir. It was earlier in the summer.”
“Know a lot about bones do you, son?”
“No, sir.”
“See, from where I sit, it sounds mighty convenient that even though the army is just now hearin’ about this bone you found on this property, you claim to have had it for quite some time.”
Given his lean, I knew I had to ask. As much as I didn’t want to utter her name even within earshot of these uniforms, I had no choice. “What did Essie tell you? She knows how long I’ve had it.”
“She told us you showed it to her just the other day for the first time.”
“Well, yeah, that’s true, but I told her about it a long time ago. If it had anything to do with that missing girl, don’t you reckon it’d be more than just a bone? There’d still be flesh. The bone was clean. You said she went missing just a couple of days ago. That’s not even enough time for a body to decompose.”
“I’m going to warn you just this once to use a little more respect when you refer to the child. She is the daughter of a diplomat, you know.”
“I don’t mean any disrespect. I’m just saying that it doesn’t make sense that the bone I found has anything to do with this.”
“Any reason why your friend would have thought you with a bone was important for us to know about? You give her any other reason to suspect you might be involved?”
I had been launched into a nightmare. “No.”
“Have you made friends with any of the diplomats? Maybe got a little chummy with some of the folks on your break? Tried picking up a new language in your spare time?”
I shook my head defiantly.
The colonel rose, picked up the remainder of his cigarette, and took one last drag before extinguishing it. “I see.” He nodded at me. “I see.” He walked toward the door behind me. “Wait here and don’t move. We have much more to say to you.”
I did as I was told, moving only to rub my palms down my thighs, trying to dry the sweat that now flowed uncontrollably and to shift to the couch to avoid the sunlight piercing my eyes through a slight break in the curtains. The door closed softly behind the colonel, only to burst open again minutes later. I heard two hurried sets of footsteps enter and move toward me on both sides of the couch.
Chapter Twenty
Over the course of the next several hours, a steady flow of men in uniforms proceeded to question me. I tried to speak as little as possible, but found it difficult to control my tongue. I succeeded fairly well until Peter returned. He came to sit with me while the others took smoke breaks, or lunch breaks, or whatever it was time for in the world of those who could choose. I lost track of time.
“Peter,” I pleaded. “You know I had nothing to do with this.”
He didn’t answer, just paced the room.
“You said the girl has been missing for a couple of days, right?”
No answer.
“Well, why are you just now looking for her?”
Peter stopped and turned to me. “They’ve been looking. There were a lot of theories at first, but yesterday evening, a guard found a purple ribbon. That’s when they thought there might be foul play. You know we have to consider everything.”
“So how do you go from a ribbon to worrying about a bone?”
“Cowney, it’s not me. I’m just doing my job. You’ve been seen talking to guests before by other guards. And good Lord, Cowney! Trading with the Japs?” So she had told them about that.
“Okay, how do they make the leap?”
“They didn’t until they found Essie. Cowney, she was with Andrea again. After hours. Out near the fence line. Guess they realized more was going on than they knew about.”
“Did you tell them about Essie and Andrea?”
“No. I mean—I just kept my mouth shut. Did as I was told. They would have found them anyway.”
“And Essie told you I had something to do with the missing child?”
“Listen, Cowney, you’ve been a good friend to me, but I can’t say anything else.”
I could almost see Essie offering every bit of information that she could to protect Andrea, to protect her future with Andrea.
“Don’t be too hard on her, Cowney. Those guys can be pretty convincing. She didn’t accuse you. Just mentioned the bone, from what I understand. And how you thought about selling gallbladders. They’ve not found much on that, though. She must have thought she was helping.”
“Peter, I know exactly how convincing those guys can be. I’m the one who has been sitting in a room with them all damn day.”
“Alright. That’s enough.” Peter grew cold. “I’m not even supposed to be talking to you.” He turned back toward the window and resumed his pacing. I didn’t like this version of Peter. Even his face seemed dimmer, emptier than before.
“Is Essie okay?” I asked, ashamed that I still cared.
“Yeah, they cut her loose as soon as she gave her statement. I haven’t seen her, but Colonel hasn’t mentioned her anymore.”
“And Andrea? They cut him loose, too?”
“Sent him back to his room. Probably going to speak with his father about catching him out on the property so late.”
“But he’s no longer a suspect?”
“I don’t have any reason to believe that he is.”
“You have reason to believe I should be?” I asked pointedly.
Peter breathed deeply. “Cowney, we just want to find the girl or find out what happened to her. The Feds are asking questions and Colonel Griggs is furious.”
I rubbed my face with my hands and dropped my feet back to the floor. I reached for a book lying on the coffee table, the cover of which had been torn off. Peter shot me a quizzical look as I flipped through the pages, hopeful there were pictures, charts, or illustrations of any kind to give me a single moment’s escape from the reality of the situation.
The door was slung open, startling us both.
“That will be all for now, Lieutenant.” Colonel Griggs waved off Peter. Peter did not look at me as he exited the room.
“So, Mr. Sequoyah. We need to see the bone now.”
My skin felt hot. Essie might go to 447 with Andrea—then they would be caught together … not that that should even matter. It would be her mess to clean up. The soldiers would close the room forever, or worse, open it for their own pleasure, exploring it as if it were their own. It would become their discovery of literature, amusement, and artifacts. They would likely nail golden numbers, “447,” into the wooden door, ordering it among all of the other doors already under surveillance. “It’s not much. I just ask that when all this is over and you know that the bone has nothing to do with the girl, you will return it to me. It’s wor
thless, but well … I don’t know. I just want to hold onto it.”
The colonel’s frown broke. “If your story shakes out and the bone means nothing, we will return it. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves, okay?”
I nodded and proceeded to tell the colonel every detail of how to find the room, the key, and the bone inside.
The office had no fan, and though the curtains were drawn fairly tight, with the exception of the seam incapable of shielding off the piercing thin line of sun, the air grew thicker by the minute. I unbuttoned the first two buttons on my shirt, and then feared that the colonel would take this as a sign of guilty nervousness, so I buttoned them back. I stood and paced the room, eager to churn some semblance of air, but only achieved working up more of a sweat. For several moments I just stood and stared at the godlike portrait of Jackson and studied every detail of his garb. I looked hard into his eyes, which refused to look into mine. Was a general higher ranking than a colonel? Essie would know. For the life of me, I could not remember. The only soldiers I really knew were my father and Bud, and neither of them held any significant rank, as their service was shortlived. Jackson looked tired. His skin was gray, stretched across his high cheekbones, his wild hair popularly considered distinguished due to its graying sophistication. I thought of how he had betrayed John Ross, a distant relative of mine, as Lishie told it. How Ross saved his sorry life at the battle of Horseshoe Bend, and Jackson repaid him with the same kindness Hitler was now affording the Jews. Maybe they left me with Jackson on purpose, had given him the orders to finish me off.
No fresh air entered the room until the door was heaved open again, and two soldiers flanked the colonel as he entered in a huff.
“Sit down,” he ordered.
I couldn’t understand why he looked so angry, why he had not brought the bone in with him. His hands were empty. I did as I was told, sitting back on the couch. The two soldiers stood on each side of me and looked straight ahead. Peter was not one of them.
“Now that you’ve wasted our time, Sequoyah, let’s cut the bullshit. Where’s the bone? I know you people do all kinds of godforsaken things with human—”
“What?”
“Is it part of some sort of sacrifice or conjure or some—”
“Sir?” I practically whimpered. “I don’t understand. I told you where to find it.”
“What you did was send my men and myself on a wild goose chase while you had some extra time to figure out the next lie you were going to summon up. We went to the room you sent us to. Hell, the goddam key was exactly where you said it was. But there was no bone. We turned the place upside down.”
“It should have been there, Colonel. I left it on the mantel. It has been there for weeks.”
“There was nothing on the mantel, son. It’s time to come clean. You can’t keep this up.”
“I swear,” I whispered, and my voice rose from my core. “I swear!”
The colonel shook his head.
“Colonel, I can honestly tell you that I have no idea where it is. But I also know that you won’t or can’t believe me. So, please, let me make a phone call.”
The colonel laughed. The sound echoed coldly throughout the office, maybe throughout the entire inn. I could feel the tears rise again. “A phone call. Sure!” he cackled. “Go right ahead. Call anyone you want to, but who the hell do you think you’re going to call? I’ve seen your file. You’ve got no family. And it seems as though that friend of yours, that Essie, isn’t too keen on helping you.”
“Yes, sir. You are probably right. But please, let me make one call and you can keep me here as long as you like. Ask me whatever you want.”
“Oh, we are going to do that anyway. Seems like you forgot this is wartime, son. Not like you get to lawyer up on this one. But …” The colonel stuck out his lower lip as he pondered the request. “I don’t see harm in it. Maybe whoever is on the other end of the line can talk some sense into you. Go ahead, there’s a line out over there.” He pointed to a phone on a corner desk in the room. “You’ve got five minutes.”
As the colonel closed the door behind him, I pulled the card from my pocket and unfolded it. The name had faded, but was still legible. The other information was clear somehow, even though it was a stranger’s name. Faded ink spun itself into my only lifeline.
Jonathan Craig
BG—U.S. Army, retired
Special Agent
Federal Bureau of Investigation
I dialed the operator and read off the number listed at the bottom of the paper. My heart felt as though it had ceased beating as I listened to the tonal ring. One. Two. Three. An “Ello” interrupted the fourth chime. “Elllooo?”
“This is Cowney. Cowney Sequoyah.”
“Are you okay?”
“No—” The tears welled again. “No, I don’t think I am.”
“How can I help?”
His response immobilized me. He hadn’t asked what I had done or how much trouble I had caused. He just wanted to help.
“I’m at the Grove Park Inn. I’ve been working here this summer and there’s been an incident and they think I … There’s a missing girl … diplomat’s daughter, and they think I might have something to do with her—”
“You sit tight, son. I’ll be right there. Don’t say another word to them.” The phone clicked.
When Brigadier General and FBI Special Agent Jon Craig walked through the door after what must have been less than an hour later, the colonel’s face turned the same dull shade as Andrew Jackson’s. I did not know the first thing about Craig, save two very important facts: he had served with my father and he wanted to help. The only other important detail in that moment was that I desperately needed his help.
I was still new to all of this army protocol jargon, so I expected Craig would salute the colonel or vice versa, but that is not at all what happened.
Craig spoke first. “Griggs, you asshole. What in the hell are you doing?”
“Sir?” the colonel responded, confused by the presence of the general. “I … we … Mr. Sequoyah is—”
“What’s this about a missing diplomat’s child?”
I was taken aback by Craig’s knowledge of the situation. Perhaps because he was a current agent or perhaps the men out front told him. Peter surely would if he had seen him on his way in.
“We’re handling it, General.”
“Looks like you’re harassing a kid to me.” Craig crossed his arms and frowned.
“Sir—”
“What evidence do you have to hold him?”
“Testimony of another worker.”
“That Essie Stamper?”
“Yes—”
“The one you found with an Italian diplomat’s son after hours?”
“Yes, but—”
“That’s enough, Colonel. That’s all I need to hear. If that is all you have, I will be taking this boy with me.”
“But—”
“Don’t worry your pretty little head,” Craig snapped. “Consider him in my custody until things get sorted out.” Craig turned to me. “Get up, son. The colonel’s done with you.”
“Now, you just wait—” Griggs reached for my arm.
“I don’t think you want to put your hands on a civilian, Colonel.” Craig stepped in front of me. He nodded to me to make my way toward the door. Softening his posture minimally, Craig continued, “Colonel, I’m not about to make this situation any worse for the bureau or the army than it already is. When you have a good reason to talk to him again, I will bring him in myself.” Craig turned and met me at the door. “Let’s go, son. Best we get you off property as soon as possible.”
Chapter Twenty-One
I followed Jon Craig down the hall as if I had known him my whole life. Whether it was the heat, the barrage of questions I had just faced, or the stress of it all, I am not sure; but whatever it was, it left me in a foggy state and I desperately needed someone else to lead the way. I was grateful to be able to follow Craig. As we
approached the main entrance, a semblance of awareness was shaken loose.
“Wait!” I think I startled Craig with my abruptness.
“What is it?” he questioned.
“I need to take care of a few things first.”
“Okay, but we need to get you out of here before Griggs changes his mind.”
“I understand, but I need to at least tell my boss and need to grab my car keys from the dormitory.”
“We’ll leave a note at the desk for your boss and you won’t need your car keys; but if you need to grab some clothes, you’ve got time for that. I need to make a call anyway.”
“What do you mean I don’t need my keys?”
“I’m driving you to Cherokee. Well, at least to the next county. Hopefully, your uncle will meet us there.”
“Bud?”
“You have another? I sure as hell would call someone else if I knew of somebody.”
“No, I mean, Bud probably won’t come get me.”
“Let me handle that. Anyway, if he won’t meet us, I’ll take you the rest of the way if I need to.”
“But my car. I can’t just leave my car.” “They won’t let you take it, Cowney.”
“Do they think I will run?”
“Probably. That and if they keep it, they know you’ll come back for it.”
“It may be best anyway. Essie would be without a—” “Wow. Now that’s something. Essie? That’s the girl that ratted you out, right? That’s what I was told.”
“Yeah.” I hung my head. “I know. But I can’t just strand her here.” “She’ll be fine. Go get your things. We’ll leave the key up front here, too.”
When I returned to meet Craig with my sweetgrass suitcase and duffle bag, I scribbled a quick note and handed it, along with my car keys, to Mrs. Parks. Craig didn’t love the idea, but agreed that it was better than handing it over to the colonel.
“Did you get ahold of Bud?” I asked, unsure of the answer I wanted to hear.
“Yes. He’s meeting us near Clyde.”
“Okay.” I nodded. “I’m ready.”
“Good. Me, too,” he agreed.
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