We stood there, awkwardly silent.
“I love you, Morgan.”
She kissed me. She turned away and started out of the barn and I could tell we still had a problem.
“Morgan,” I called to her.
She stopped, but did not turn to face me. “What?” It came out as an uncharacteristic bark.
“What am I supposed to say?”
“You’re not supposed to say anything.”
“I didn’t do anything,” I said.
“I know you didn’t, John.” She turned and looked at my eyes. “You’ve been perfect. You’re always perfect. You take care of all of us perfectly. Now, I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Is that all right?”
The rain was falling steadily now. It was five-thirty and dark and still there was no sign of the Jeep coming down the hill toward the house. I’d been checking the window for a couple hours and before that I’d been stepping out of the barn to watch the lane. Morgan brought me some tea.
“I’m sure he’s all right,” she said.
“Come on, let’s go for a drive,” I said. “Gus, you stay here in case he comes back.”
“You got it.”
“I’ll drive, you look,” Morgan said.
We put on our jackets and walked out to Morgan’s car. Morgan was shaking and not because she was cold.
We drove all the way to town. The pharmacist told us that David had been there hours ago. I used his phone to call Gus. David had not shown up. We drove the streets of town. I was behind the wheel now. We checked the grocery parking lot and the lots of the Wal-Mart, the motels, and the restaurants. I parked in front of the sheriff’s office.
“John?” Morgan said.
“I don’t know, honey. Let’s see if we can get some other people on the road with us.”
Inside, Hanks listened to me and told me that no accidents had been reported. I used his phone to get another no-show report from Gus. He had a dispatcher call another deputy and ask him to drive the road to my place.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Come on,” Morgan said to me and pulled me toward the door.
“I’ll call you if I hear anything,” Hanks said.
Morgan and I walked out and got back into her car. I was again behind the wheel, but I didn’t start the Jeep. “I can’t believe this is happening again,” I said. The rain was falling less hard.
Morgan reached over and touched my hand.
“I love you so much,” I said.
“I know you do, John. I love you, too.”
“Where is he?”
THIRTEEN
TO SAY THAT I couldn’t believe the current set of circumstances was an understatement. Morgan and Gus took turns convincing me, or trying to convince me that I was not to blame for having let David drive into town alone. After driving back and forth between town twice, Morgan and I stapled ourselves to the house and waited for the phone to ring. Gus fell asleep on the sofa and Morgan covered him with a blanket. Then she fell asleep on the big chair in front of the stove. I paced, let the dogs out a couple times, and finally watched the sunrise. At first light I called the sheriff and learned that nothing had been learned.
“So, what now?” I asked Bucky.
“I called the Highway Patrol and they’re supposed to be sending an investigator,” he said.
“What should I do?”
“I don’t know, John. We’re still out there driving the roads. All the roads we can anyway.”
“Thanks.” I hung up and looked in on Gus and Morgan. They were still asleep. I gently woke Morgan to tell her I was going to feed the horses.
“Okay,” she said. “Do you want me to make breakfast?” She was only half awake.
“No, you sleep some more.”
I left the house and went about the chores. My mind kept turning to the thugs in the BMW. How could I not think of them? The next time I talked to the sheriff I would mention them, ask if anything was known about them. I wondered if I should call Howard or David’s mother. That thought made me feel as if I was giving into the worst notions and I felt bad, like I was giving up on the boy. Thinking of this made no sense to me and I became disoriented. I sat and watched the three-legged coyote splash after a stick in the mud.
I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t very well go about my daily business as if nothing was wrong. I didn’t know where else to drive and look. And I didn’t see myself going into town and making myself a troublesome and unwanted fixture at the sheriff’s office. I cleaned half the stalls and went back to the house.
Morgan had coffee waiting and was starting breakfast when I walked into the kitchen. Had there been any word she would have spoken up immediately, so I didn’t ask.
“What’s the weather like?” she wanted to know.
“I think we’re done with the rain,” I said. “It’s not terribly cold.”
“That’s good.”
“Is Gus still asleep?” I asked.
“He’s in the shower. You know, he’s looks really tired.”
I nodded. I opened the door and let the dogs in. They were wet and muddy, but I didn’t care. The phone rang. Morgan watched me while I picked up. It was Daniel White Buffalo.
“Daniel,” I said.
“Hey, I heard about your friend,” he said.
“What did you hear?” I could hardly feel myself breathing.
“One of the deputies drove by last night, said he was missing.”
“Yeah, he’s driving my Jeep,” I said.
“We’ll keep our eyes open over here.”
“Thanks, Daniel.”
We sat stupidly silent on the phone for a few seconds. “Okay, Daniel. Thanks.”
“You bet.”
I hung up.
The phone rang again and this time it was Bucky. Morgan came and stood close to me while I talked to him.
“John, I’ve got a guy from the Highway Patrol and he’d like you to come talk to him.”
“Okay. Anything yet?”
“No, nothing. Can you come in now?”
“I’ll be there in an hour.”
“We’ve looked just about everywhere,” the sheriff said. “We’ve got a plane up right now.”
“That’s good, I guess. I’ll be right there.” I hung up and looked at Morgan. “I’m going in to talk to the Highway Patrol.”
“You want to eat something first?” Morgan asked.
“I can’t eat. I’m going to go wash my face, then head into town.”
“I’ll stay by the phone,” Morgan said.
The drive into town felt exceptionally long and I didn’t even notice the view of the valley as I made the big curve. Though my hands weren’t shaking, I wouldn’t have been surprised to find them so. The traffic in town was a little heavier than usual; I had to sit at one light through three changes before I could get past it. But it was while I was idling there that I saw the BMW parked in the Wal-Mart lot. My thought was to go into the store and find the men, but I didn’t know what I’d say. Instead, I drove on to Bucky’s office and parked the pickup in a diagonal space in front of the town square.
Bucky introduced me to a tall man with a handlebar mustache. His name was Reg McCormack. He wore expensive Western boots and an easy manner. His handshake was cold, limp.
“Tell me about your friend,” he said.
“He’s about six feet tall, one-sixty maybe, twenty years old, light brown hair. He’s white. He was driving my Jeep.”
“Any reason he drove into town alone?”
“We’d just come back from picking up hay and we found out my uncle had forgotten to have us pick up his medicine,” I said.
“Whose idea was it that he drive?” McCormack asked.
I looked at Bucky, then answered, “He offered to drive in.” I didn’t like the tone of his questions.