by Dawn Eastman
“She has so much energy, she always made me feel like an old lady,” Katie said. “I’m not surprised she wanted to interview people. I think her favorite part of seeing patients with me was hearing their stories.”
Gabrielle smiled. “She’s an original, that’s for sure. But Russell saw her on Friday. If she disappeared on Sunday, I’m sure he wouldn’t have any information that would help the police.”
They sat quietly, neither one wanting to think the worst. Then both of them realized at the same moment that Russell did have some important information.
“What was the local case she was working on?” Katie asked, her voice low.
Gabrielle put her fork down, pushed her plate away, and took a sip of her drink. “Something about a girl that was killed around Halloween time. I think Russell said it was ten or so years ago. Apparently, Taylor thought the guy who was convicted had been innocent.”
Katie sat very still. It couldn’t be, could it?
“I saw a new patient this week. He just got out of prison. For murder. Well, technically manslaughter, but still.”
“What? Wow. That’s pretty crazy. Was he scary?” Gabrielle said. “Wait, you don’t think it was the same guy?”
“I don’t know. And no, he’s not scary. He’s nice and not threatening at all,” Katie said. “It would be very strange if Taylor was researching his case.”
“So, he was from Baxter, went to prison for murder, and then returned here? Why wouldn’t he just go and get a fresh start somewhere else?”
Katie lifted a shoulder. “His family is here, I think. I got the impression he liked Baxter. But I was only removing stitches and he wasn’t a big talker.”
“So, who did he kill?”
“A student at U of M. It was twelve or thirteen years ago around Halloween.”
* * *
After Gabrielle left, Katie decided to wash the dishes by hand. There was something about the warm sudsy water and the quiet clinking of plates and cutlery that calmed her. They hadn’t had a dishwasher in the tiny house where Katie grew up. Her mother would wash the dishes while Katie sat at the counter and did her homework.
“What does ‘peculiar’ mean?” Katie would ask.
“That’s a tough one; maybe you should look it up,” her mom would reply.
“What’s six times eight?”
“Do you know any other math facts that would help you figure it out?”
Fourth-grade Katie had sighed. She was convinced her mother had never been to school since she didn’t know the answers to any of her homework questions. It was only when Katie was much older that she realized the gift of self-sufficiency her mother had given her. By then her mom was gone, and Katie had never gotten a chance to thank her.
But the fresh smell of dishwashing liquid and the sound of running water helped her think through the tough questions.
And she was facing a tough question. Had she sent Taylor off to confront a criminal? Had she gone to talk to Eugene? Katie had been distracted by the call from the hospital and left without really talking it through. She pictured Taylor standing in the middle of the garden, one hand raised in a wave as Katie hurried down the path to the hospital. Where had she gone after that?
Katie needed to find out.
5
He’d promised himself he wouldn’t. After all he’d been through, he didn’t want to be back here. Watching.
But, because of all he had been through, he’d reverted back to the one place he felt safe. Even if he couldn’t be with Alicia, he could be near her. All that time in prison, keeping his head down, learning how to play the game, trying to avoid danger, he had thought of her.
Warm golden light poured out of Alicia’s windows, and Eugene fought the urge to stand in that light. He knew it wouldn’t be as warm as it looked. It never was. He stayed toward the back of her yard but not in it, crouching behind the large shrubs that separated her yard from the neighbor’s. The old habits died hard. When the restraining order was in place, he’d had to stay at least one hundred yards away. But he didn’t want to be caught in her yard anyway. How would he explain it?
He thought back to the last time he’d been restricted by the order. It had almost killed him to be denied access to his best friend. But that night, so many years ago, he had no longer cared if he got caught. He’d gone to the party and watched Alicia from across the room. She seemed happy. Laughing with her friends. They were all dressed in the same costume. A coven of blonde witches.
When she spotted him, she had made her way quickly through the crowd. He’d thought she would be happy to see him, but she wasn’t. She was mad that he’d broken the restraining order. She said she didn’t want to get him into any more trouble. He’d left in a huff, storming across the campus to his car. He’d walked past dozens of students in every kind of costume. Pirates, witches, a few dressed as Austin Powers, and of course the superheroes.
He’d parked way over by the athletic complex. It was at least a twenty-minute walk, but by the time he was near his car, he had calmed down and come up with a great idea. He would convince her to come home with him. He knew Alicia’s parents were worried about her. If he brought her home, he could be the hero and they would remove the restraining order. It could all go back to the way it had been. He’d headed back to campus and decided to cut through the Law Quad. Then he saw her. But he had promised himself not to think about that.
Now, almost twelve years later, he was watching Alicia again. If he were honest, he would admit that this hadn’t been a spur-of-the-moment decision. He’d been planning it since he got out. He’d watched the neighbor’s house to figure out their schedule. And he’d watched Alicia’s house from a distance. All of his patience paid off when he saw the neighbors leave, he assumed for dinner, and he knew he’d have some time to crouch in their yard undetected.
He thought of the other girl who reminded him of Alicia. Why was she dredging up the past? He didn’t want to be reminded of that awful time. He just wanted to move forward if the rest of the world would let him.
He took the bracelet out of his pocket and let it sit in the palm of his hand. He lit a cigarette, got comfortable, and waited. Half an hour later, he was rewarded.
He saw her in an upstairs bedroom walking back and forth past the window. She was holding the baby on her shoulder, and he thought he could almost hear the lullaby she was singing. After five weeks, he finally felt like he was home.
He lost himself in memories of Alicia. From the moment she moved in next door when they were both twelve, they had been best friends. Then, in high school, things had changed. She wasn’t the same Alicia at school as she was at home. He stood to push the memories of that time away. He dropped the cigarette and ground it out under his boot.
Just as he turned to walk back home, he realized his mistake. He’d let his guard down while reminiscing.
The first fist to the gut knocked the wind out of him. He bent over and wheezed. The push on his back only prompted what he already wanted to do. He fell to the ground and clutched the bracelet tightly in his fist. He curled into a ball and waited for it to be over.
6
Wednesday morning, Katie was surprised to see Eugene Lowe on her patient list again. She felt wary after her conversation with Gabrielle the night before. He couldn’t have anything to do with Taylor going missing, could he? Katie wondered again if Taylor had interviewed Eugene. But Katie hadn’t sensed any threat from him, and why would he want to hurt a stranger? Of course, he’d been convicted of doing just that, and Katie had only met him once. It made her uncomfortable. She’d always thought of herself as a good judge of character, but her recent brush with murder had made her question herself. She didn’t like it, but there it was. Fortunately, a doctor’s job was straightforward: treat the patient regardless of who he was. He wasn’t booked for a physical. She flipped open the chart and saw the reason for his visit: contusions and rib pain. Katie frowned. Why hadn’t he gone to the ER? It sounded like a car accid
ent. Katie took a deep breath. The only way to find out was to open the door, which she did after a brief knock.
Eugene hunched in his seat and looked up through his fringe of dark hair as she entered. He looked terrible. Red, swollen cuts and scrapes disfigured his face. He held himself in a protective way that made Katie worry about a rib fracture.
“Mr. Lowe, what happened?” She stepped forward and crouched near him to look in his eyes.
“I fell off a ladder trying to put up some Halloween decorations,” he said. His voice was low and hoarse.
Katie didn’t believe him. He certainly could have hurt his ribs falling off a ladder, but it was unlikely he would get his face as swollen and bruised as it was.
She pressed her lips together, stood, and gestured to the exam table.
“Can you climb up?” She asked. “I’ll need to examine you and be sure nothing is broken.”
He nodded and moved stiffly to the table. She pulled out the metal step and helped him onto the cushion.
He had a bruise on his left cheekbone, a small cut above his right eye, and a split lip. She pulled the otoscope off the wall and asked him to tilt his head so she could look in his ears. Both eardrums were intact and there was no bleeding.
She pressed along his collarbone and didn’t elicit any tenderness.
“I’ll need you to lie back if you can,” she said. “I want to examine your ribs. Does it hurt to breathe?”
He nodded and moved slowly into a faceup position on the table. Katie pulled the metal shelf out for him to rest his legs.
She asked him to pull his shirt up. She noted more bruising on his abdomen and along his rib cage. Although it was tender, she didn’t think anything was broken.
She helped him to a sitting position again and watched him carefully. He wouldn’t meet her eye.
“I don’t think anything is broken, but you definitely have some severe contusions. When did this happen?”
“Last night, around eight or so.”
“You were putting up decorations in the dark?” Katie crossed her arms and looked him in the eye.
He squirmed a bit and didn’t answer.
Katie moved to the wheeled stool by the small desk. “It looks to me like you fell onto someone’s fists and maybe the toe of their boots.”
Eugene sighed. He looked up at the ceiling and then finally looked at Katie.
“Ever since I got home, they’ve been harassing me. First, it was just notes left on my car, or egging the house. They painted things on my garage. But recently it’s gotten worse.”
“Who is doing this?”
Eugene lifted a shoulder and winced. “They wear masks. I don’t know who they are, but they don’t want me in town.”
“Where did this most recent attack take place?”
“A few blocks from my house.” Eugene looked away and became interested in his fingernails. “I went for a walk.”
Katie sensed another lie but let it go.
“Did you see who attacked you this time?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Have you told the police about this?”
He nodded yes. “At first, they came and took a statement. But nothing changed. It’s not like an ex-con is their top priority.”
“Mr. Lowe, I’m sure if Chief Carlson knew you had been attacked, he would have a plan to protect you.”
Eugene remained silent.
“Do you mind if I talk to them?”
“I’d rather you didn’t,” he said. “I’ll call them again myself.”
“Okay. Do you need something for the pain?”
He shook his head and held his hands up. “I don’t like to take pills.”
“Even if you don’t want to take it during the day, you could take some at bedtime so you can sleep. It’s going to be a week or more before your ribs feel normal when you breathe.”
Eugene shrugged, winced, and then nodded.
Katie scribbled a prescription and held it out to him.
Eugene took the paper and slipped it into his jeans pocket.
“I also want you to go to the radiology department at the hospital and get an X-ray.” Katie handed him a radiology requisition. “I want to be sure I haven’t missed a rib fracture, and your cheek is too swollen for me to be sure you don’t have a fracture there. And I’ll need to run some blood tests and take a urine sample. Your kidneys took a beating; I want to be sure there wasn’t any more serious damage.”
He nodded glumly and took the lab slip and X-ray request.
“I’d like to see you again early next week to be sure everything is healing okay. And call me if things get worse.”
“Thanks, Doc.” Eugene slid off the table and followed Katie out of the room.
* * *
After a busy morning clinic that left time for only a protein bar before the first afternoon patient arrived, Katie was glad to see that her last two appointments had canceled. She’d struggled to stay focused on her patients and hoped they hadn’t noticed her distraction. Gabrielle had texted just after lunch to say, RUSSELL SAYS THE CASE TAYLOR WAS RESEARCHING INVOLVED EUGENE LOWE. IS THAT YOUR GUY?
Katie managed to leave clinic just after four o’clock.
She jumped in her car and headed to the downtown area of Baxter—this consisted of three blocks on Main Street where three restaurants and multiple shops were located.
The police station was tucked between an antiques store and a yarn shop. Its bright-yellow door blended with the rest of the cheerful facades in the shopping area. Katie parked down the block and marched to the station.
A young receptionist was on the phone when Katie burst through the door. The girl held up a finger to indicate that Katie should wait.
“Uh-huh. Uh-huh. No way!” The girl twirled her hair and smiled in a way that told Katie this wasn’t police business.
Katie narrowed her eyes. She stepped closer to the desk and looked at her watch.
“Yup. Okay.” The girl licked her lips and eyed Katie warily. “Listen, I gotta go.”
Katie could hear a voice still talking as the girl set the phone in its cradle.
“Can I help you?” Her tone was frosty, but Katie didn’t want to call her on it. In about thirty seconds, she would regret her attitude. Katie and John Carlson were good friends. Katie wasn’t going to rat her out, but she wasn’t above letting the girl think it was possible.
“I need to see Chief Carlson.”
“Name?”
“Katie LeClair.”
The receptionist pushed a button and spoke quietly into the phone. Before she had replaced the receiver, John Carlson was walking down the hall toward Katie. He tugged on his shirtfront, its buttons straining, and hiked up his pants as he walked. As he approached, he raised a hand in greeting.
“Hey, Doc!”
“Hi, John.”
The girl smiled sheepishly as Katie walked back to Carlson’s office.
“New receptionist?”
“Yeah, Marcy had bunion surgery and she has to be off her feet for a week. That’s her daughter.” Carlson made a face. “Not quite the same work ethic.”
Carlson pushed the door open and ushered Katie into his office. As usual, it was filled with the organized clutter of a person with too much paperwork. Several piles languished on his desk, and there were Bankers Boxes piled in the corner. A sad-looking fern wilted on the windowsill.
John Carlson had one picture of his wife, Linda, on his desk and three of his dog, Bubba. Katie wondered how Linda felt about the ratio.
“What can I do for you, Doc?” He gestured to the visitor seat and lowered himself into his desk chair.
“I wanted to ask you about the missing college student from Ann Arbor.” Katie moved the molded plastic chair a little closer to the desk and set her bag on the floor as she sat.
Carlson’s eyebrows inched upward. “I can’t talk to you about an ongoing case, Doc.”
“Are you involved?” Katie asked. “She spent
two weeks working with me over the summer. I was really impressed with her.” Katie stopped and swallowed hard. “I just want to help if I can.”
Carlson leaned forward. “The Ann Arbor police are coordinating with police departments all around the area. I didn’t know you knew her. If it seems like we need any more background information, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
“Do you think she’s still alive?” Katie asked. “I know she wouldn’t just run off. She’s very responsible and she was close with her family.”
“We’re exploring all possibilities.” Carlson kept his voice even and his face blank.
Katie sighed. Part of her had known he wouldn’t tell her anything. She’d just felt so helpless. And when she’d heard that Taylor had been researching Eugene’s case, she’d suddenly felt like she needed to do something. She didn’t really believe that Eugene was involved, but she didn’t know him at all. What if she had been patching up a kidnapper? Or worse?
Carlson lowered his voice. “Katie, we want to find her just as much as you want her found. We’re going over her last movements and hoping someone will report seeing her.”
“That’s why I’m here,” Katie said.
“You’ve seen her?” Carlson pulled his phone closer, as if he was about to send a car to Taylor’s location.
“I saw her late Sunday afternoon here in Baxter.”
Carlson released the phone. “Why are you just coming to us now?”
“I didn’t know until last night that she was even missing. And then I realized I might have been the last person to see her before she disappeared.”
“I’ll need you to give a statement and tell us exactly what she said and where you were. The Ann Arbor guys have been focused on the school and her friends there. If she was here Sunday evening, that will change everything.”
Katie told him about her meeting in the hospital garden and the odd questions Taylor had been asking. He took notes even though he was recording everything she said.
