"Did you ask her family if anyone knows where they might be?"
He shook his head. "Her mother's called everybody she can think of, on account of she's as worried as I am about the boys. If you want to talk to her, she'll tell you same as I did, that I ain't ever done anything bad to Norella. I paid child support on the first of every month like the judge ordered, even when she wouldn't let me see the boys. I might not have been the best husband, but ain't nobody can accuse me of being a bad father."
"I understand, Duluth," I said, "but this is a family court matter. Norella has custody. She may have violated the visitation decree, but technically she hasn't kidnapped the boys."
"I suppose not," he said as he stood up and put the mug on the corner of my desk. "Thanks for hearing me out. Soon as I finish waiting around to talk to my lawyer in Farberville and trying to track down Norella, I'll go by Ruby Bee's and see what all I can do. I'm liable to be tied up for the time being, so you might ought to find somebody else."
I sprinted to the door. "Okay, Duluth, let me see what I can find out. Here's the key to the bar and grill. Assess the damage and get back to me."
"Norella's ma said she didn't think Norella had more than twenty or thirty dollars. None of the rest of the family's seen hide nor hair of her. I called the battered women's shelter in Farberville, but they were real tight-lipped. You might start there."
"I'll do my best," I vowed sincerely, "and talk to you later this afternoon."
His eyes may have been yellowish, but they were also shrewd as he nodded and left.
I was thumbing through the directory for the number of the shelter when yet another Buchanon intruded, confirming my view that there are entirely too many Buchanons in Stump County-or anywhere else on the planet.
"Arly," said Mrs. Jim Bob (aka Barbara Ann Buchanon Buchanon) as she came inside and sat down, making certain to smooth down her skirt and cross her ankles. Her white blouse was so brittle with starch that it crinkled like aluminum foil when she moved.
I propped my feet on the corner of my desk. "That's my name. Need my rank and serial number?"
"No, I need a favor."
"You want I should shoot Jim Bob? I'll have to bill you for the bullet, you know, but it will be worth it. Not one soul in Maggody will skip the funeral. Afterward, we can all enjoy Ruby Bee's green bean casserole and Estelle's special snowflake salad and-"
"Don't be impertinent, missy. We are going to need your assistance for the next… few days. I was under the impression that it was all under control, then Eula came down with a head cold and Elsie had the audacity to announce she was going to her niece's wedding in Texarkana. Millicent's rheumatism is flaring up and she can hardly be expected to come to our aid."
"As in?" I asked.
"The youth group at the Voice of the Almighty Lord Assembly Hall is scheduled to spend a week at Camp Pearly Gates down in the south part of the county, just past Dunkicker. I need a chaperon."
My feet hit the floor so abruptly that I came damn close to falling out of my chair. "What does that have to do with me?"
"The group is going the day after tomorrow. Six girls, four boys. It is imperative that they have constant supervision to prevent any sort of immoral interaction. I assume you know what that means. I'd hoped Lottie would accompany us, but she's barricaded herself in her house and refuses to answer the door. To think she calls herself a good Christian!"
"Cancel it."
"Camp Pearly Gates used to be a summer camp for children with asthma, cancer, and the like. Now church congregations all across the state have agreed to pitch in and restore it. Our youth group voted to go there instead of Branson for their spring break. I fell to my knees and thanked the Lord that all those years of Sunday school finally paid off and they're willing to make the sacrifice and utilize their youthful energy to help the less fortunate."
I really, truly hated it when she had the moral high ground. "But I don't see why you should need a second chaperon. Your presence ought to be more than adequate to keep them in line. Take hymnals and lots of marshmallows."
"Brother Verber will be accompanying us, naturally, but he and I will stay in the lodge, where we can supervise the work assignments, monitor supplies, see that kitchen chores are carried out, and lead nightly gatherings of a spiritual nature. Larry Joe Lambertino will be staying in the boys' cabin. You'll be with the girls. Between the four of us, we ought to be able to maintain discipline and prevent rampant promiscuity." She gave me the sharp look of a crow perched on a mound of putrefying flesh. "You of all people should know what wickedness these teenagers get into around here. This very morning I found whiskey bottles in the ditch in front of my driveway, and Jim Bob swears they steal so many packs of cigarettes from the supermarket that he can barely keep the shelves stocked. Just imagine what they'd do without someone to ride herd on them. I feel faint thinking about it."
She did look a bit pale, but it might have been caused by her girdle rather than the vision of couples behaving with abandon under the whispering pines.
"You'll have to find someone else," I said. "I already have a full-time job making sure the inmates don't take over the institution. If Larry Joe's agreed, why not ask Joyce to go, too?"
"I suppose she might, as long as you're willing to babysit their children. I happened to see them at the supermarket the other day, and it was all I could do not to rip open a box of tissue and wipe their disgusting noses. I'd be real surprised if they don't all have head lice. Joyce has never struck me as the sort to pay much attention to hygiene or personal appearance. Larry Joe's shirts look like he sleeps in them. I shudder to think what kind of example he's setting for the impressionable youth in his shop classes. I was fully expecting the whole town to come down with food poisoning after Joyce passed out jars of that repulsive green slime."
I stared at the water stain on the ceiling. "What about Ruby Bee? She might enjoy a restful week at this camp."
"And go prowling in the woods with a flashlight? How are you going to feel when she's bitten by a snake and dies? Why don't you start writing the eulogy about how you sent your own mother to her death because you couldn't be bothered? What kind of message will that send to our young people, who have volunteered to pass up waterslides and corndogs to help sick children deserving of a carefree week at camp? Some of those little children won't be with us a year from now, you know. I don't know if Jesus runs a summer camp up in heaven, but-"
"I can't take off for a week."
Her lips curled upward. "Yes, you can. The town council voted last night."
"In a secret meeting?"
"As you well know, I am married to the mayor of Maggody, and I saw to it that you were given permission to take a week of vacation time to accompany us to Camp Pearly Gates. We're meeting at the Voice of the Almighty Lord Assembly Hall on Saturday morning at six o'clock sharp. You'll need clothing, personal items, a sleeping bag, insect repellent, and a reliable flashlight. The teenagers will be bringing their Bibles, but since everybody knows you're an atheist, we won't ask that of you."
I did not ask if it might be more expedient to bring a case of condoms.
2
Once Mrs. Jim Bob had swept out in an acidic haze of self-righteousness, I sat back and wondered how difficult it might be to provoke an appendicitis that would allow me the better part of a week of TLC in the Farberville hospital, where I could indulge in pudding, overcooked broccoli, and cable television.
The specific organ failed to twinge.
I did not give up hope of anything short of spontaneous combustion, but resigned myself to deal with the matters at hand. I found the number of the battered women's shelter, dialed it, and was informed that no one named Norella Buchanon had been or currently was in residence. End of conversation, as in dial tone.