“I saw the EKG reading. Mr. Claybaugh needed to be taken to another facility immediately.”
“I do know how to read an EKG monitor, Ruth. Just because my bedside style is different from yours doesn’t mean I can’t handle patients.” Jama heard the snap of her words, and looked away from Ruth’s stolid stare. This was her director. She needed to remember that. Be gentle with her.
Ruth tossed a hanging file folder to the desk. She leaned back in the chair and looked at Jama. “Is this the way it’s going to be for the next two years?” She shoved the other office chair toward Jama. Its wheels whispered along the polished wood floor.
Jama grabbed the chair and looked at it, then at Ruth.
“Sit down and stop towering over me,” Ruth said.
Jama sat.
“Did you talk to your resident trainers the way you’ve been talking to me today?”
“I spoke up when I needed to, but I didn’t feel the need to do so often. I was treated with respect, because until two weeks ago, I was chief resident in my hospital’s family health program. I realize you’re my director, but I had thought there might be a spirit of mutual cooperation. I expected to be treated the way I treated my med students and other residents. With respect.”
For the next moment, the only sound in the room was the soft hum of the computerized medication dispenser.
“You might eventually have convinced Mr. Claybaugh to leave,” Ruth said quietly, “but it was easier for me. Nobody knows me. I don’t have history with any of the patients, and none of them have their bluff on me.”
“Ted didn’t have-”
“Jama, you’ve got to learn how to take charge of a situation. You are responsible for the health of the patients who come in here.”
“I know how to-”
“You have lives in your hands, and you can never forget the heavy responsibility of this job.” Ruth returned her attention to the computer.
Frustrated, Jama stood up and pushed the chair back to its place. She turned to walk toward her office.
“If you think your friendship with these people is going to cause a problem, it would be better if you let me know that now,” Ruth said over her shoulder.
Jama stopped. “And then what?”
“What I’m asking is whether or not you feel you need remedial help while working with family and friends. This is a close-knit community, and it’s understandable that you might have some difficulty separating official responsibilities from friendships. It’s why doctors are discouraged from treating family members. Just work on it, will you?”
Ruth stood up and held her hand out to Jama. In it was a silver key. “This is to protect the rest of our windows. It could save you a bundle of money.” She turned and walked away.
Jama watched her retreating back. Ruth had a habit of getting the last word. Two years would be an eternity.
Doriann lay scrunched between the bales of hay. Clancy was in some kind of whacked-out frenzy, whispering questions to himself so softly that she could make out only a few words, then answering himself and giggling. Like a girl. Aunt Renee had never mentioned any drug reactions like these. Maybe he wasn’t on drugs. Maybe he was just psycho.
Covering her nose with the sleeve of her jacket so she wouldn’t have to smell his breath, Doriann closed her eyes and listened…
“Whad’ya think of your perfect legal system now, Dr. Moore? You think they’ll find your kid in the Mighty Mo?”
Doriann frowned. Who was Dr. Moore?
Soft laughter. “All you rich doctors who look down your noses at the rest of the world…you let her suffer! You could’ve kept her from suffering. You weren’t the one who heard her screams. What’ll you do when they dredge your kid from the river? Then you’ll know what suffering is.”
Doriann felt a little thrill of hope. He thought she might be in the river? He was confusing Dad with somebody else, but maybe this meant he wouldn’t expect to see her hiding from him the next bale over. If she stayed very quiet and still, maybe he would leave before she sneezed or-
“Deb!”
The shout startled Doriann so badly she squealed and nearly wet her pants again.
“Hey, that you, Deb?” There was movement, and Doriann knew he was raising his head to look. He expected to see Deb.
Some kind of desperation took control of Doriann’s brain. She couldn’t decide what to do.
“Deb?” The voice was directly above her.
He couldn’t see Doriann, but she could see his dark shape clearly.
He reached out. She braced herself. He was going to grab her.
But just before he touched her, the hound outside started baying again. The howl was closer now, really close, and Clancy swore, a long string of curses.
He leaped up, then jumped toward Doriann. She stifled a scream. As she tried to crawl away, she was grabbed from behind-not by Clancy, because he was still in front of her.
Something clammy and soft clamped over her mouth-someone’s hand-and before she realized it she was rolling onto her back-onto a human body!-then back onto the floor. Rough hands shoved her away so hard she rolled and slammed into something hard.
She found herself in a stall, where she saw light coming through a hole in the outer wall of the barn. She remembered seeing a spot that looked as if a big animal had kicked out the wood. It was large enough for an eleven-year-old girl to crawl through.
She didn’t look back. She was outside before she heard a voice in the barn.
“What’s all the yelling about? I’m trying to sleep in here.”
Doriann stood staring at the side of the barn. Deb?
The hound had run into the forest, the echo of his hunting yowl refracting through the trees. Refracting? Yes, that was the word.
While Deb scolded Clancy for being afraid of a little ol’ hound dog, Doriann used the cover of her voice to run full tilt toward the trees.
Though she didn’t hear the sound of anyone coming after her, she plunged into the darkening forest as the baying of the hound echoed through the trees around her.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Tyrell issued final instructions and left the ranch in Daniel’s care. He climbed into his freshly serviced Durango and was buckling his seat belt when his cell phone-nearly out of juice-beeped at him. Renee again.
“They’ve found it!” she cried.
His stomach clenched at her words, and then the tone of her voice registered. For the first time in hours, he heard hope. But he also heard dread, and a contagious urgency.
“Tyrell, they found the truck that was stolen earlier this morning in Kansas City. The old brown truck. They found it!”
“Who found it? Where?”
“You know Andy Griswold, Dad’s buddy who lets you guys hunt on his land, west of River Dance?”
“Andy found the truck?”
“In that swamp near the road. The license plates matched. Now tell me, why would someone who knows he’s in deep trouble with the law not change the plates if he wanted to get away with his crime?”
“Stupid? High on drugs? Was anybody found at the-”
“It was empty, but the Feds are on their way there now.”
“How many agents are coming?”
“Not sure, but, Tyrell, you know that place so well. If Dad were able, he would be out there in-”
“I’m on my way.”
“I love you, big brother.”
“Then you can bail me out of jail.”
He disconnected, leaned his head back against the headrest as he considered what might be happening. How he wished he could talk to Jama.
Jama’s cell phone call tone rang from her pocket as she began to organize the new desk in her new office. She’d never had her own office before.
The call was from her foster sister, Renee Abramovitz. “Jama, how are your tracking skills now?” were Renee’s first words, no greeting in the mezzo-soprano voice.
“My what?”
“Remember that trick
Dad used to teach you and Tyrell on his hunting trips? Actually, he tried to teach all of us, but you and Tyrell were the only ones who caught on.”
Okay, something was definitely wrong with her. “Renee, are you okay? I know this awful ordeal with Doriann-”
“Listen to me! She’s there, Jama. Near you, near River Dance. That’s where the Feds think she is. What I need you to do is meet up with Tyrell, get out there before a whole squad of strangers can mess up the tracks, and work with Tyrell to find out where-”
“Hold it. Why do the Feds think Doriann’s in River Dance, specifically? And if the Feds are coming-”
Renee sighed. “Tyrell hasn’t kept you in the loop today, has he?”
“He didn’t tell me she was in River Dance.”
“He’s probably calling everyone he knows from Columbia to St. Louis.”
“So what’s up?”
“You remember that swamp just off the road west of town on Highway 94? It’s where sophomores dunk all the freshmen during initiation.”
“Okay, I remember.” When Jama and Amy had been initiated, they’d been expected to find their way home in the dark without flashlights. But the sophomores hadn’t counted on Jama’s navigational skills to lead them to Andy Griswold’s house.
“A brown truck was found in that swamp today, and the license plate numbers matched the vehicle we suspect was used to abduct Doriann.”
Jama felt suddenly sick. “Has the swamp been dredged?”
“Andy saw recent tracks leading from the swamp. There was no one in the truck. He checked. That means Doriann could be someplace between Andy’s place and River Dance.”
“Renee, that’s dozens of square miles of forest-”
“Which means you’d better hop to it. Do you have your hiking boots and jeans?”
“Not on me,” Jama said dryly.
“Do you have clothes at the ranch?”
“No.” Jama had given all but a few of her clothes to a homeless shelter after Amy’s death. She’d cleaned out her closet at the ranch house, but she decided not to remind Renee about that.
“Then you’ll have to make do with some of Amy’s things,” Renee said. “Mom’s still storing all of it in the attic at the ranch, and if I remember right, you and Amy wear the same size shoe. You can use her hiking boots.”
Jama hesitated. Renee’s anxiety could be affecting her judgment. Was this expedition sanctioned by the FBI? Renee had always been the most excitable of the Mercer clan; as a child, she’d screamed at scary stories before they even got scary, she’d laughed more loudly and talked faster than her twin in a bid for attention.
It was Renee who had been the holdout in the family when Jama became a foster sister. Though Renee had accepted Jama as Amy’s friend for so many years, Jama became a threat to Renee’s place in the family when she joined it. Jama got the attention, for a while, because of her father’s death, her rebellion and Fran Mercer’s compassion. It was months before young Renee thawed enough to welcome Jama to the fold, though her twin, Heather, had embraced Jama from the beginning.
“Jama, we need you and Tyrell out there looking for Doriann before the place is overrun by people who don’t know the area like you do.”
“Where’s Tyrell?”
“On his way to pick you up as we speak.”
“So he’s agreed to this crazy plan?”
“Crazy? Jama, Doriann’s life is at stake. You’re the only person I know who’s better at tracking than Tyrell.”
Jama continued to ponder this deluge of information.
“Hey!” Renee said. “Are you listening to me? You’ve got to get moving now!”
“Andy did see footprints coming out of the swamp?” Jama had known the place well at one time…many years ago. “Nobody was in the truck?”
“No, but one set of prints leading away from there was small. That’s got to mean Doriann’s still able to walk on her own.”
“If those are Doriann’s footprints. Are you sure you aren’t jumping to-”
“No, I’m not,” Renee retorted. “It’s got to be her.”
Jama was once again alarmed by the edgy sound of Renee’s voice. With all the pressure she’d been under today…
“Look,” Jama said, “it’s been months since I’ve hiked, longer than that since I’ve done any tracking.”
“Dad always said you were a natural, that you were born to it. Don’t give the Feds time to trample the site, Jama.”
“Are dogs being brought in?”
“Of course,” Renee snapped, “but it’ll be a few hours before Search and Rescue can get here. A young couple went missing two nights ago over the state line in Kansas, and I suspect they might have been victims of these same killers. Come on, Jama, why are you stalling?”
Jama sighed and cast her gaze to the ceiling. Tyrell was no pushover, and Renee said he was on his way through town. He was agreeing to this aggressive plan. He had more sense than to allow his excitable younger sister to browbeat him into anything. After all, he was the eldest, pragmatic beyond bearing sometimes.
“It would be crazy to wait,” Renee said. “Every moment that passes means more danger to Doriann. You’re right there. Utilize your skills.”
“Okay,” Jama said at last. She heard Renee’s soft sigh of relief. “I won’t take time to suit up.”
“Do you have a flashlight?”
“Several good ones in my car. You know the Mercer men all give them for Christmas and birthdays.”
“Dress warm.”
“You’re sure Tyrell is picking me up?”
“He’ll be there shortly.”
“Which means you were pretty confident you could maneuver me into this, or you haven’t told him yet, and you’re going to call him and browbeat him into picking me up.”
“This is the right thing to do. It’s our best option.”
“It’s foolhardy.”
“You’ve played the fool a few times, Jama. It won’t hurt you to do it one more time.”
Jama scowled at that uncalled-for remark. “It’s also dangerous.”
“Which is why I’m calling. Tyrell wouldn’t dream of asking you to do this. But you know how to take care of yourself. You took that self-defense class. In fact, didn’t you teach self-defense for a while?”
Jama closed her eyes and thought of Amy, who had talked her into taking that first class. Amy, her best friend in the world. If Jama could do something to help make up for this family’s loss, then shouldn’t she do it?
Or am I being a little overconfident? What makes me think I can do something the FBI can’t, just because Renee wants me to?
On the other hand, the FBI may not have enough personnel for a thorough search.
Renee was right. The more time that passed, the higher the risk to Doriann.
“I can drive to Andy’s,” Jama said.
“His place is going to be overrun with cars before long, and the fewer civilian vehicles on the property, the better.”
“In other words, this is a covert operation.” Jama’s unease mounted, but nothing about this day was comfortable.
“Tyrell will be there. Be ready.” Renee disconnected, and Jama sat staring at the cell phone in her hand.
She couldn’t tell if her racing heart was from fear, or excitement that she might actually be able to help find Doriann, or from trepidation about spending still more time with Tyrell.
Doriann took precedence. Her safety was top priority. Jama would do this for her.
Tyrell was driving through downtown River Dance-total distance, four blocks-when he received yet another call from his sister.
“You need to stop at the clinic and pick up Jama.”
Why was he not surprised? “No.”
“She’s agreed to help search.”
“It’s dangerous out there. We don’t have any idea where these killers might be.”
“You’re right, and Doriann’s out there with them somewhere. Jama’s an adult with self-defense train
ing, Doriann’s a helpless child. Jama’s waiting for you at the clinic, because I told her you would pick her up.”
In spite of his doubts about Renee’s plan, he found himself automatically turning toward the clinic when he reached River Street. “Since when did you become the head of this family?”
“You try homeschooling four strong-willed children and caring for a baby, while helping your husband with his landscaping business.”
“I don’t have a husband. Come to think of it, I don’t have children.”
“Stop fooling around. You’re picking Jama up, aren’t you? She’ll be out there tracking, anyway, she might as well be under your watchful eye.”
He pulled into the clinic parking lot and saw Jama waiting beside her car, wearing a pea-green army coat over navy-blue scrubs. She still wore her bright white, thick-soled shoes, which would be caked with mud by the end of the night…whenever that end may come.
She was in the passenger seat before he could get out and open the door for her.
“I’m in, Renee,” she called loudly enough for Renee to hear.
“Then my work is done,” Renee said. “Call me as soon as-”
“My cell phone’s out of juice,” Tyrell said. “I’ll call you when I can.” He flipped his phone shut and tossed it into the console.
Jama reached for it, pulled an electronic charger from one of the many pockets in her coat and plugged it into Tyrell’s phone. “It’ll be recharged by the time we reach the trailhead. It’s a good thing I talked Monty into the family plan when I changed phone companies. Your phone’s compatible with mine and Monty’s. Now that Fran’s agreed to get a cell-”
“Wait a minute, which trailhead?”
“Well, okay, it’s not an official trailhead, but you know where the Katy Trail comes closest to the road without actually crossing it, about a hundred and fifty feet east of Andy’s swamp?”
“Sure. There’s an open field and a creek where we used to have bonfires.”
“It’s the best place for you to park.”
He thought about that for a moment, realized she was right and grunted. So now, not only was she a better tracker than him, she was also a better strategist.
A Killing Frost Page 17
