by Dawn Eastman
Katie led the way to the table, with Matt right behind her.
Gabrielle stood as they approached and gave Katie a quick hug. “Katie, Matt, this is Russell.”
They shook hands all around and said their hellos while grabbing seats. Before they had a chance to say anything more, the waitress was at the table for their drink order.
Whisky for Matt, of course. Katie ordered a pinot noir.
“You look really familiar; have we met before?” Matt asked Russell.
“I don’t think so,” Russell said. “Did you go to undergrad here?”
Matt nodded.
“Maybe you took one of my classes?”
“Doubt it. I was on a pretty tight premed track.”
Russell shrugged and smiled at Gabrielle.
Katie asked Russell about his classes to distract him from Matt’s continued staring.
“Gabrielle says you teach sociology,” Katie said. “She was telling me about a project your students are working on. Something about true crime?”
“Yes, I’ve assigned that project for a couple of years now.” Russell leaned back in his chair. He had that look of someone about to launch into a lecture. Probably an occupational hazard for a professor. “I like to have the students look at a criminal case through the lens of the media and then to try to get alternate views to demonstrate how media bias can skew public perception.”
“That’s very interesting,” Katie said. “I’ll bet you learn a lot yourself reading those papers.”
“Definitely.” Russell chuckled. “I learn a lot just sitting in the classroom and listening to them debate and defend their positions. It’s usually a pretty lively class.”
The waitress arrived with the drinks, and Gabrielle took the opportunity to interrupt.
“I’m sure Russell doesn’t want to talk about work all evening,” Gabrielle said. She slid her hand around Russell’s arm and gave Katie a pointed look.
“Oh, I don’t mind,” he said. “I love my work. I can’t imagine doing anything else.”
“You’re a lucky man,” Matt said. He lifted his glass in a toast, and Russell did the same.
“Don’t you enjoy your work, Matt?” Russell asked.
“I do, most of the time,” Matt said. “I’m not sure I love it the way you seem to. But it is rewarding to help people.”
Katie looked at Matt. He’d alluded to this before. It made Katie wonder if she loved her work. She thought she did. She certainly had worked hard enough to get to this point. You didn’t do that unless it was your calling, right?
“I understand,” Russell said. “Sometimes I’ll have a student that just really gets into the class and the projects, and it’s rewarding to see that happening. To see a young person reshape their ideas about the world.”
“Did you think Taylor Knox was that kind of student?” Katie asked.
Gabrielle raised a warning eyebrow at Katie. Katie pretended not to notice and focused on her drink.
“Taylor?” Russell looked momentarily confused.
“Katie also knew Taylor,” Gabrielle said. “I introduced them because she wanted to be a family medicine doctor. They spent some time together over the summer.”
“Oh, you’re that doctor!” Russell said. “She talked about you. She really liked you.” He took a gulp of his drink—something mixed with soda. “I really hope she’s okay.”
A heavy silence fell over the table as they all thought of Taylor Knox, who had been missing for four days. Katie thought Russell would ignore the question about Taylor, but he sighed and nodded.
“Taylor was exactly that kind of student,” he said. “She took this project seriously and threw herself into the spirit of it. In fact, she was almost too invested. I didn’t know how to stop her.”
“Why would you want to stop her?” Matt asked.
Katie tilted her head and waited for Russell’s answer. She would have asked the same question if Matt hadn’t beat her to it. Regardless of what Russell said, she sensed he definitely had wanted to stop Taylor.
Russell shook his head and stirred his drink, avoiding eye contact. “Not stop her exactly. Just, I don’t know, it was like she’d lost sight of the reason for the project and got herself wrapped up in trying to prove her subject’s innocence.”
“Gabrielle said she was working on Eugene Lowe’s case, is that right?” Katie said, and ignored Gabrielle’s glare.
“Yes, that’s right. He was accused of killing a young woman ten or fifteen years ago. They never found a motive and there was a lot of talk at the time that maybe the police jumped to conclusions, but he went to prison just the same.”
Gabrielle stood up. “I need to use the restroom. Katie, want to help me find it?”
Katie did not want to help her find it, especially because there was a large neon arrow at the back of the bar indicating the location of the restrooms. But she couldn’t ignore Gabrielle’s pointed looks any longer.
“Sure,” Katie said.
As soon as they turned the corner into the hallway where the restrooms were located, Gabrielle turned and faced Katie.
“I know what you’re doing,” she said.
Katie held her hands up and tried to look innocent.
“Stop interrogating Russell. This is supposed to be a fun night out, not an investigation.”
Katie figured she’d gotten as much out of Russell as she could anyway. She held her hands up in surrender. “Okay, no more questions.”
They returned to the table, and Gabrielle steered the conversation toward Michigan’s chances of going to the Rose Bowl. It didn’t matter that they were barely halfway through the season. In Ann Arbor, the discussion was ongoing.
Russell spent ten minutes pontificating on the defense and the offense and the coach’s errors so far this season. It seemed sociology wasn’t the only thing he liked to lecture about.
After they had exhausted the football talk, Matt stood. “I’ll get us another round.”
“Looks like the dart board has opened up—anyone up for a friendly game?” Gabrielle said.
No game was ever friendly with Gabrielle, but Katie felt she owed her.
“I have to warn you, I’ve won some tournaments in darts,” Russell said. He dropped an arm over Gabrielle’s shoulders.
“Maybe you can teach me a few things,” Matt said.
Katie jumped up to help Matt bring the drinks to the dart board.
She stood next to him and leaned closer, lowering her voice even though Russell and Gabrielle were halfway across the room. “How good are you at darts?”
Matt turned to her with a broad grin. “It’s how I covered my bar tab all through med school.”
Katie’s shoulders relaxed. She knew Gabrielle could barely hit the target, let alone rack up a high score. There was something too self-satisfied about Russell and it rubbed her the wrong way.
This game was not going to be friendly.
13
Still gloating at the thought of Russell’s face when Matt hit a bull’s-eye three times in a row, Katie arrived at clinic on Friday morning and was met by both Debra and Angie in the back hallway.
“We have a bit of an issue,” said Angie.
“You’re overbooked and you have a walk-in,” Debra said.
“Emmett is scheduled to see the emergencies today,” Katie said. “Doesn’t he have space in his schedule?”
Debra shook her head. Angie said, “She’s refusing to see him. She’ll only see you and she’s very upset.”
“Okay, who is it?” Katie asked. She turned to Debra. “Can I squeeze her in?”
“It’s Gretchen Lowe. Eugene’s mom,” said Angie.
“You don’t really have time …” said Debra.
“Is she sick?” Katie asked.
“No,” Angie and Debra said together.
“I’ll see her,” Katie said. “Put her in the conference room and I’ll see what I can do for her.”
Debra bustled back out to the front and Ang
ie followed. Katie knew Angie would be giving her “the doctor had an emergency and is running late” speech all morning. And she wouldn’t be happy about it.
Katie went to her office and hung up her jacket. She put her stethoscope around her neck and glanced at the stack of phone messages. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and marched into the hallway.
Gretchen Lowe was a small woman, made even more so by her hunched posture. It was as if she were collapsing in on herself. Her dark hair was streaked with gray. Katie could see the resemblance to Eugene in her fine, pointy features and dark eyes.
“Mrs. Lowe?” Katie closed the door behind her and held out her hand. “I’m Dr. LeClair. How can I help?”
“I’m so sorry to burst in on you like this, Doctor,” Gretchen Lowe said. “I didn’t know where else to go. The police have been no help so far. They say he’s a grown man. We have to wait twenty-four or forty-eight or five hundred and two hours …” Her eyes welled up and a tear escaped. She brushed it roughly away. “He said he really liked you. That you treated him with respect and kindness. He hasn’t had that experience much in his life. I’m grateful to you.”
Katie tried to piece together the emergency and decided she’d have to guide Gretchen through the story. She handed her a tissue and pulled up a chair.
“Tell me what’s happened,” Katie said, “Has Eugene been hurt again?”
The distraught woman shook her head and sniffled loudly. “I don’t know. He’s gone!”
“Gone?”
“Yes, I woke up this morning and he was gone.”
“Was he planning a trip?”
“No, he would have told me.” She waved her tissue around and then dabbed at the new tears. “He would have said good-bye,” she said. “After everything we’ve been through, he wouldn’t just leave me wondering what happened to him.”
Katie ran through a list of responses in her head. The first of which was, “What am I supposed to do?” She rejected that one as being unfeeling, but she thought it was a good point.
“Okay, let’s talk this through slowly,” Katie said. She reached out and put her hand over Gretchen’s tightly clenched ones. “When did you see him last?”
Gretchen took a deep breath and seemed to calm a bit. Possibly just the idea of doing something, anything, made her feel more in control.
“I saw him last night at dinnertime,” she said. “He’d borrowed my car to run an errand and he came back in the late afternoon. I thought something was bothering him even then. He was quiet and kind of spacey. I had to ask him questions twice before he’d even notice I was talking.”
Katie immediately thought drugs, but she hadn’t heard any history of that.
“Was he a drug user, Mrs. Lowe?”
Gretchen caught her breath. “I didn’t think of that. Do you think he could be using drugs? Did you get that sense from him when he was here to see you?”
“No, I didn’t,” Katie said. “I got the impression he was glad to be home except for the … accidents he’d been having.”
“Accidents! Is that what he told you?” Gretchen looked at Katie, and she sensed the anger underneath the worry. “There was never any accident. They were harassing him. They didn’t want him to come back and they were trying to make him afraid of his own hometown.”
“Mrs. Lowe, do you know who ‘they’ are?”
She shook her head. “I have no idea. I don’t think Eugene knows either. The cowards only come at night, and they’re very careful to never be seen.”
“Eugene didn’t even see the men who assaulted him?”
“He says not, but I don’t know.” She looked at Katie through red, swollen eyes. “He didn’t do it, you know. He never touched that girl and he went to prison for it, and now he’s still in a kind of prison.”
Katie sensed the conviction in what Gretchen said. But was that just a mother’s bias? Did she actually know anything about that night? Katie wondered what Eugene’s excuse had been when they found him with Heather’s body.
“Okay, let me see what I can do,” Katie said. “I think you should report this to the police. They may not act immediately, but at the very least there will be a record of it and people can be on the lookout for him.”
“Okay, if you think it will help,” she said. She pulled a tissue out of the box and blew her nose loudly.
“I have a friend in the police department, and I’ll talk to him and be sure he does whatever he can to help find Eugene,” Katie said.
Katie didn’t say what she was thinking. Eugene might not want to be found. Or maybe his tormenters had struck again and he was hurt, or worse.
* * *
Katie couldn’t get away from clinic until lunchtime. She saw Emmett in the hallway on her way out the door. He’d aged in the last month or so. He was tall, but seemed hunched, and his silver hair was dull. Katie hoped Nick, Emmett’s son, would come back from his “sabbatical” healthy and able to work.
“Hello, Emmett,” Katie said. “Any interesting patients lately?” Emmett loved to share stories of his patients with Katie. Whether it was an interesting medical puzzle or just a quirky personality, he seemed to save the good ones to tell her.
Emmett shook his head. “Not as interesting as yours, I hear,” he said. He flashed her a grin that reminded her of the old Emmett, but it was quickly gone. “I remember Eugene Lowe from when he was just a little guy. It was a real shame what happened. He’s been having trouble since he came back?”
“You could say that,” Katie said.
“This town has a long memory, but I also believe it has a good heart. I hope the situation will resolve itself soon.”
“Me, too,” said Katie. She put a hand on his arm. “How are you, really?”
“Just fine,” he said. When he saw her expression, he said, “Really. It hasn’t been easy these past weeks, but I’m doing all right. It’s Mrs. Hawkins I worry about. She’s thrown herself into a Halloween frenzy. Every day there’s another zombie or tombstone on our lawn. Gives me the creeps, but it keeps her busy, I guess.”
“I’ll have to drive by and see the display,” Katie said, smiling.
“Come during the day to save yourself the nightmares,” Emmett said.
They said good-bye, and Katie let herself out the back door into the parking lot.
She drove to the police station, and this time the receptionist called Chief Carlson immediately.
John Carlson ushered her into his office and sat behind his desk.
“I think I know why you’re here,” he said. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told Gretchen Lowe. We can’t start searching for an adult just because he decided to take a trip.”
“I agree,” said Katie.
Carlson’s eyebrows shot up. “You do?”
“Of course. He’s a grown man and he didn’t tell his mother where he was going. If you chased down every person who did that, you’d never do anything else.”
Carlson relaxed. “Well, I’m glad we agree.”
“I did come to ask if there was anything you could do to keep an eye out for him,” Katie said. “Gretchen insists that he wouldn’t leave without telling her.”
Carlson let out a sigh and rubbed his eyes. “I can have my officers watch for him, but we’re all still working on Taylor Knox. Her parents are frantic too, and she’s been missing for days.”
Katie felt a wave of guilt. Of course they were still looking for Taylor. The police didn’t have unlimited resources. She should have thought it through before charging into Carlson’s office.
“I’m sorry, John. Of course, you’re right,” Katie said. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Other than finding Taylor alive and well?”
“You know she was doing a project on Eugene Lowe’s case for one of her classes.”
Carlson lowered his eyebrows. “How do you know that?”
Katie shrugged. “I recently met her professor and he told me.”
“Yes, I’m aware
of that project. The Ann Arbor police are looking into it.” Carlson held his hands out. “It’s not really my case. We’re just helping them with any information we can. And, of course, searching. But she could be anywhere. She might not even be in Michigan anymore.”
“Were you involved in Eugene’s case?”
“Not really—it happened in Ann Arbor and Baxter had a different chief then—but I knew Eugene. He always seemed harmless to me. Maybe a little odd, but harmless. There had been that stalking episode with Alicia Stewart, but even that wasn’t proven. Alicia herself never said a word against him, and I got the impression there was more to the story. But the father pushed the restraining order through, and Eugene got labeled.”
“And then when he was found with the body of a young woman, they assumed he’d escalated.”
Carlson shrugged. “I’m not saying they didn’t do a good job investigating; they did. They had a whole list of people who they spoke to about that night. But they all had alibis except Eugene. And none of them had been labeled a stalker.”
“Do you think he did it?”
Carlson put his hands out, palms up. “I really don’t know. I didn’t have access to all the information, so I don’t know everything about the case. And Eugene never really gave a reason for why he was there. He just said he didn’t hurt the girl and left it at that. He wouldn’t give any more information, and I think his silence is what convicted him.”
“Will you do what you can, unofficially, to try to find him?” Katie asked. “I’m worried that something has happened to him. Someone in town is out to get him, and maybe they finally succeeded.”
“Or maybe he decided to cut his losses and move on to a place where no one knows him.”
“In that case, why didn’t he tell his mother?”
Carlson shrugged. “Do you tell your—” He broke off. “Sorry.”
After the recent murder a month earlier, Katie had told John about her own mother’s suicide when her cancer pain became intolerable. It was why Katie had refused to believe her patient could have killed herself. She was ever alert to signs of distress or warning signs of suicide.
