by Amber West
“You’re looking a bit weighed down there, Jameson.” Father Mike stared at the camera bags hanging from my shoulders. “Need a hand?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
“So you’ve said.”
There was that smirk.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m trying to get home with this stuff, so you’ll excuse me if I’m not in a chatty mood.”
“No problem. I’ll walk with you.”
I shrugged and stayed silent, hoping lack of conversation might make him go away.
“I’m glad I ran into you. I was thinking about what you said the other day.”
“About punching a six year old? I think I’m mostly grown out of that. You shouldn’t be too worried.”
“No, about feeling like something bad is happening. What your moral obligation is.”
I slowed my steps. I didn’t really want to be conversing with Father Mike but two things struck me. One, he could give something away in trying to talk to me. After all, in just about every crime show I’d seen on TV, the bad guy can’t help but hint about his crimes, right?
Second, I really didn’t want to be walking up to the house with him by my side. I didn’t know what his involvement was with Andy, but if he was capable of making him disappear, there was no telling what he might do if he saw me as a threat. I decided my best bet was to engage him in conversation and hope it would end before we got to Oak Lane.
“I think that you don’t have a moral obligation to do anything if it is only a feeling. Acting without evidence can end up hurting people for no reason. Now, if you had any evidence to support your feelings, that might be different.”
“Makes sense.”
“But I understand how even a bad feeling can weigh a person down, so I wanted to apologize if I didn’t seem sensitive to that when we spoke. I want you to know that you should always feel free to come to me with anything.” He smiled, the kind of smile that I would have found charming if I didn’t think it was covering something sinister. He stopped walking and stepped in front of me, standing uncomfortably close. “Really, Jameson. Anything.”
I was holding my breath and hoped he couldn’t hear my heart pounding. The sound of a car pulling up beside us drowned out the sounds of my own anxiety.
“Afternoon, Father.” Jack leaned his head out of the Jeep. “James, you headed to the house? Wanna lift?”
“That would be great.” I tried not to sound too eager, and turned towards Father Mike. “Thanks for the chat.”
He nodded, looking at Jack rather than me, eyes narrowing slightly. “Sure thing, Jameson.”
“Everything ok?” Jack asked as I shut the Jeep door.
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
“Father Mike is a little...” I paused, searching for the right word, “...intense sometimes. That’s all.”
“I noticed.”
“It’s not just me?”
“I hate to speak ill of a man of God, but I don’t know. Something about him just doesn’t sit right with me. He seems to show a little more interest in some of the women in town than I think is right for a priest.”
“Do you think he’s been involved with any of them?”
“Probably not, but sometimes I think he’d like to be.” Jack looked at me as he pulled into the driveway. “Your forehead is all scrunched up. What are you thinking?”
“Just thinking about what you said. And what happened to Andy.”
“Andy?”
“Yeah. Andy gets mysteriously hurt and then leaves town without a word, then Father Mike is comforting Emma after confession...”
“What?”
“She went to confession the other day. He gave her a hug after and told her that he spoke to Andy before he left, that he wanted to get out of town to find work and better himself for Emma or something like that.”
Jack shook his head. “That doesn’t sound right.”
“Right? That’s what I thought.”
We were out of the Jeep, standing in the yard between our houses. “Listen, James, maybe you should keep your distance. He’s been showing you an awful lot of attention. I think it might be best that you didn’t wander alone so much.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“I’m sure you will be. But I’d feel much better if you don’t go playing detective by yourself. I don’t want anything happening to you.”
I blushed. “I won’t go play detective. At least not alone.”
“Alright. I’m headed in, but you come on over if you need anything.”
“Thanks.”
I unloaded my stuff at the bottom of the steps, grabbing the memory card from my camera and headed upstairs. I opened my laptop and sat on the window seat, letting the images load, while I stared out the window.
I said I wouldn’t go play detective. I didn’t say anything about playing detective indoors.
Chapter 22
“James, can I come up?”
Jack’s head appeared at the top of the stairs, while I sat on the floor, back against the window seat, surrounded by prints from the photos Emma and I took of the townspeople.
“Wow. No wonder you’ve been holed up here.”
“Insane, right? I don’t think I realized how many people we took pictures of that week.”
Jack tried to navigate across the floor to the window seat without stepping on anything. He held up a paper bag. “Emma sent over some chicken n’ dumplings for us.”
“She’s such a sweetie. I’ll have some in a little bit. Don’t want to get grimy hands on the photos.”
“These came out real nice.” Jack sat down and leaned over my shoulder. “Emma took these?”
“I helped her here and there, but she got the hang of it really quickly. She’s got a good eye.”
“And a good teacher.”
I waved my hand, ignoring the compliment. “You can go ahead and start eating if you’re hungry.”
“Can I help you finish up here instead?”
“Actually, you probably could. I have this stack of envelopes here with every family’s name on them; I just need to put the pictures in the right envelopes. They’re already stacked together, so it shouldn’t take long at all.”
I handed him half the envelopes and got up on my knees so I could reach some of the photos further away. We had only filled a few envelopes when I stopped suddenly. “Does anything strike you as odd when you look at all these photos?”
“Not particularly.”
I looked over them again. “Look.” I started pointing to pictures. “Mother and daughter. Mother and three daughters. Aunt and niece. Grandma.”
Jack shrugged. “I must be slow, James. What am I missing?”
“It’s what the town is missing - men.”
He looked over the photos again. “There’s Gordon from the Inn there. And there’s Joan and her two boys.”
“Right. Old guy and school-aged boys. If you don’t count men over, let’s say 65, and boys under 18, how many men would you say are in this town?”
Jack sat, thinking. “Well, there are a few farmers that live a bit further out.”
“But right here in the heart of town?”
“I can’t think of too many.”
“Doesn’t that seem more than a little strange to you?”
Jack rubbed the back of his neck, his forehead wrinkling as he frowned and shook his head. “I don’t know. I guess it’s a little unusual. Don’t know if it means much, though.” He sighed and went back to stuffing the envelopes. “We should finish and eat.”
“You’re right. I’m probably being paranoid.” I didn’t really think it was just unusual, but I knew I’d be able to think more clearly after dinner. I took the stack of filled envelopes and placed them on the bed, while Jack broke out the food. He handed me a napkin and we sat on the floor, backs against the foot of the bed, foil containers balanced on our laps.
“It’s a good thing I walk most places in this town,” I mumbled with a mou
thful of dumplings. “This is so good.”
Jack laughed. “They do know what they’re doing around here.”
We finished our dinner and Jack gathered up the empty dishes, dirty napkins and plastic utensils and tossed them in a bag. He stood up, offering me a hand getting to my feet. I looked up at him and he started to laugh.
“What is it?”
“Just funny what turns out to be highlight of a person’s day.”
“Eating out of tinfoil plates with plastic forks? We need to get you out more.”
“Now that is an excellent idea. How about dinner tomorrow?” He looked down at the paper bag full of trash in his hands and added, “Dinner out.”
“The diner?”
“No, I was thinking something nicer. And a little quieter.”
“Sure.” I bit my lip, trying to keep from looking too excited.
“There’s a nice place the next town over. We can leave here a little after five.”
“Okay.”
I stood there, reduced to nothing but one word answers.
“Alright then. I’ll lock up on my way out.” He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “See you, James.”
“Night.”
I sat on my window seat, watching Jack walk to his house, only slightly embarrassed when he got to his back porch, turned and waved.
Chapter 23
“Is there something wrong with your food?”
I looked up from my pasta, shaking my head. “No, not at all. I’m just formulating my plan of attack.” Jack raised an eyebrow, so I added, “I’ve just never been very good at eating Italian food without wearing it.”
“Messy eater?”
“Sadly. I’ve lost one too many outfits to tomato sauce.”
“And that is a particularly lovely sweater, so we wouldn’t want that.”
I looked back down at my plate, hoping the restaurant was lit dimly enough that Jack wouldn’t see me blush. I pulled gently on the green cashmere sweater, picked out specifically for the evening. The sweater was an impulse buy before I left New York; the soft cashmere was fitted enough to show off my curves, usually hidden underneath sweatshirts and jackets.
Dylan rarely took notice of any effort I made when we went out, unless I was wearing something he bought or picked out for me. At a certain point, I stopped trying.
Tonight was different. Instead of my go-to ponytail, I wore my hair down, dark red waves falling below my shoulders. Most days I wore nothing more than moisturizer on my face, but tonight I added some mascara and eye shadow to highlight what I thought was one of my better features.
Jack was dressed up for the evening as well, abandoning his usual jeans and flannel for khakis and a blue dress shirt. His face was freshly shaved, giving him a more youthful look, save the occasional hint of silver gracing his temples.
I took a bite of the pasta and closed my eyes. “That’s really good. Great suggestion.”
“Glad you like it. Their Puttanesca is one of my favorites.”
“You come here often enough to have favorites?” I teased.
“Not that often.” It was his turn to look down at his plate.
I glanced around the small restaurant populated mostly with couples. The dim lighting, the crackle and glow from the red brick fireplace, the tiny tables and booths which forced the occupants to sit close to each other; this was clearly the type of place you brought someone you wanted to impress.
“Come on, when was the last time you brought someone here? You know about my last failed relationship. It’s only fair to share.”
Jack took a sip of wine and took a deep breath. “There really isn’t too much to tell. We dated for a few months. She was on the quiet side, real sweet. But it didn’t work out.”
“Didn’t work out?”
“She couldn’t get used to Ruth Valley, I guess. Not everyone is cut out for small town life.”
I swallowed another bite of pasta. “She wasn’t from Ruth Valley?”
He shook his head. “Not originally, no.” Jack paused and dug his phone out of his pocket. He glanced at it, then set it down on the table.
“Do you need to get that?”
“They’ll call back or leave a message if it’s important.”
“Maybe you should take the call, Jack. Something might be wrong. I don’t mind.”
“I’ll just be a second, then.” He answered the phone, getting up from the table. He paused as he walked away, then turned around, motioning for me to get up as he walked back. He tossed a couple of bills down and hung up the phone. “I’m real sorry, but we need to get back to town.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Not sure. Something happened to Doc Matthews.”
We raced into town and headed for his office. Joan from the bookstore was waiting there when we arrived. “Thank you, Jack. I didn’t know what to do.”
We walked back to an exam room, where Father Mike stood next to the patient table occupied by the Doctor. I walked over, checking his vitals while talking. I could smell booze on his breath. “Can you tell me what happened?”
Joan spoke up, “He came into the bookstore. He was about to ask me something when he grabbed his chest and fell over. I called Jack as soon as it happened. Fortunately, Father here happened by and was able to help me get him here.”
“He just fell over?” I asked.
Joan nodded.
“Did he grab his arm or his chest? Did anything seem unusual about him?”
She thought for a moment. “I’m not sure which. He pretty much passed out as soon as I looked up at him.”
I sighed.
Jack stood next to me and spoke quietly. “Is he going to be ok?”
“I don’t know. His vitals are stable at least, but he’s obviously not conscious, and there is no lab here. Doc is the one who sent out for everything. All I can really do is monitor him for now. How far is the closest hospital? A real hospital. One that could send an ambulance maybe?”
“I know Doc transferred a patient two towns over once for something serious. Let me call and check.”
Jack left the room and Joan spoke quietly. “Do you still need me here, Miss Quinn? I really should get home to my kids.”
“No. You can go home. Thanks for your help.” I watched her walk out of the room, leaving me alone with an unconscious doctor and Father Mike.
“So...” Father Mike started, “you look nice this evening.”
I looked down at my fitted green cashmere sweater and camel colored skirt. I replied through my teeth. “Thanks.”
“Do something special tonight?”
I shrugged. “Dinner.”
“With the Sheriff?”
“I don’t really see how that’s your business.”
Father Mike put his hands up, taking a defensive stance. “Just trying to make conversation.” He stuck his hands in his pocket, kicking at the linoleum floor. “Where’d you go? Couldn’t have been the diner, the whole town would be talking about that by now, and you two would have been here long ago.”
I stared at him trying to give my best glare without answering.
“Wow. I guess the night didn’t go well. Sorry.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No, but you’re awfully cranky for someone who was enjoying her date.”
“Didn’t say it was a date either.”
“No, but your sweater did. In my experience a girl doesn’t wear that to hang out with a pal.”
I crossed my arms, regretting the choice to leave my jacket in the Jeep. “In your experience?”
“From what I’ve observed, of course.”
I rolled my eyes and changed the subject. “You were in the right place at the right time this evening.”
“Was on my way home from visiting some parishioners and thought I’d pop in to say ‘hi’ to Joan.”
“God works in mysterious ways, I guess?”
He shrugged, “Some things are just a coincidence.”
Jack reent
ered the room. “Mill Springs Hospital is sending out an ambulance. It will probably be a half hour before they get here. I’ll stay here and wait for ‘em.”
“I should too, in case there are any changes in his condition.”
Jack and I stood, staring at Father Mike. He looked up from the doctor at us. “I’d like to stay as well. You know, to pray over him.”
Jack gave me a look and I shrugged. He slid a chair over and stood next to it. “You should sit, James.”
I sat down, Jack standing next to me with his arms crossed, while Father Mike stood next to the bed with his head bowed.
It was going to be a long thirty minutes.
~~~
My phone danced across the end table, and I jumped across the bed to retrieve it. After Jack dropped me home he headed to the hospital, in hopes of finding out what happened to Doc. I expected his call meant there was news.
“Just wanted to let you know I won’t make it back tonight. Not at this rate.”
“I’ll be sure to sleep with my bat next to the bed, then.”
Jack’s voice got serious. “If you think you hear anything, you call me. Doesn’t matter how late it is.”
“I’ll be fine. Don’t start worrying yourself.”
“I’m not worried. I just don’t like leaving you there alone.”
“I know. I’ll be fine. I promise, I’ll call if so much as a squirrel crawls across the roof.”
I swore I could hear him smiling on the other end of the line. “Thank you. Sorry for such a miserable date, by the way.”
“It wasn’t miserable. We had a good dinner, then you know, possible attempted murder and a creepy priest praying for the entire last half hour of it. As far as I’m concerned, the only disappointment was the lack of dessert.”
Jack laughed. “Well then, I owe you some pie.”
“Sounds perfect.”
“Leave it to you to have me joking about pie at a time like this.”
“Can’t let them take my sense of humor. Whoever ‘them’ is. Or, are. Whatever. I think I’ve officially lost the ability to string together a coherent sentence.”
“You should get some rest. I’ll swing by tomorrow when I get back.”
