Chief Pittman drove
through town with lights flashing, then pulled into the alley behind the bar to
the small, clapboard house.
There was no smoke coming
out of the fireplace, no lights on anywhere inside, and when he saw the front
door open and a tall, gangly boy and a huge bloodhound emerging, he jumped out
to open the back door of his cruiser.
As he did, a woman
followed them out. She was blue from cold and shivering. She coughed, then
couldn’t stop. Then the boy approached and held out his hand.
“I’m Charlie Conroy, Sir.
Thank you for calling.”
Lon wondered how
desperate they were and then decided to deal with that later.
“You can put your dog in
the back and ride up front with me.”
“Yes sir,” Charlie said,
loaded up Booger, then got into the front seat.
Lon turned around.
“Mrs. Conroy, I’m Chief
Pittman. Thank you for allowing your boy to help us. I’ll have him back as soon
as possible, okay?”
“Yes, it’s okay,” she
said.
And then another little
voice piped up, and Lon saw a tiny little girl standing in the doorway, also
wearing her coat over her clothes. She was crying.
“Mommy, Mommy, I’m cold.”
“I have to go,” Alice
said, and ran back to the doorway, picked up the little girl and disappeared
into the house, shutting the door behind her as she went.
Lon got in. The boy was
already buckled up.
“We’re going straight to
the nursing home.”
“Yes, sir,” Charlie said,
his heartbeat jumping as the Chief drove away.
“So what’s going on at
your house? Don’t you have any heat?”
“We don’t have any
utilities, sir. We got cut off.”
“When was this?” Lon
asked.
“Oh, a few days ago, but
I’ll get the money earned to get them back on.”
“Is this why you put out
the fliers?” Lon asked.
Charlie nodded.
“That was very
industrious. How old are you?” Lon said.
“I’m twelve, but I am the
man of the family now,” Charlie said, and then turned his head as they passed
the school, looking at it with a mixture of longing and despair.
Another two blocks and he
pulled up in front of the nursing home. One of his deputies was already there
gathering info, while the other one on duty was back at the station. People
were gathering here as the news had spread, ready to help search.
“Here we go,” Lon said,
as he pulled up and parked. “You get your hound and follow me.”
“Yes sir,” Charlie said,
and leaped out, grabbed Booger’s leash, and took off after the Chief.
Nathan Rose, the nursing
home administrator, was trying not to panic as he explained what he knew to the
Deputy, Ralph Herman.
“We’ve never had this
happen before,” Nathan said. “We lock the doors at night and everything. Wanda
is the one who discovered her absence.”
Ralph eyed the aide in
purple scrubs. She looked to be in her late twenties, and she also looked
scared to death, like someone was going to lay the blame of this on her.
“So, Wanda, how did you
know she was missing?” Ralph asked.
“She wasn’t in her bed
when I came on duty at six a.m., so I went looking for her, assuming she’d just
fallen asleep somewhere else inside the building. They do that sometimes, but I
couldn’t find her. That’s when we all began to search. She’s not here.”
“Were there any unlocked
doors?” Ralph asked.
Willa’s shoulders
slumped.
“The one from the kitchen
leading out into the back alley. There’s an extra lock up high. She’s so
little, I don’t know how she reached to open it.”
“Either someone helped
her, or it was unintentionally left unlocked,” Nathan said. “It’s the only
explanation.”
“Have you notified her
next of kin?” the deputy asked.
“She doesn’t have any,”
Nathan said. “She brought herself here three years back and hasn’t had a
visitor from outside Blessings, since.”
At that point, the Chief
walked up and didn’t waste time explaining.
“Nathan, I need something
that belongs to Gertie...something that would have her scent on it...like her
shoes... of a piece of her clothing...something that hasn’t yet been washed.”
Nathan saw the boy and
the bloodhound and didn’t ask questions.
“Wanda, you heard him.
Bring something that will have Gertie’s scent on it.”
Wanda turned and ran into
the building as the deputy recognized the boy.
“Hey, that’s the kid from
the flyer,” he said, then glanced at Lon. “Good call, Chief.”
“If it works, we can all
thank Peanut Butterman. It was his suggestion.”
Charlie had outgrown his
coat months ago, and had been wearing his Daddy’s clothes all winter, but he
didn’t have a coat. It had burned up in the explosion. He shivered slightly as
he waited, thinking nothing of the discomfort because it had become the norm,
but Lon saw it.
“Be right back,” he said,
and jogged toward his cruiser, popped the trunk and then came back with a
heavy, fleece-lined flannel jacket. “Put this on,” he said, as he handed it to
Charlie.
Charlie’s eyes widened.
“I might get it dirty.”
“Son, it’ll wash,” Lon
said. “Put it on.”
Charlie didn’t argue. The
warmth that enveloped him was so welcome it brought tears to his eyes.
“I thank you,” Charlie
whispered.
Lon patted the boy’s
shoulder as Wanda came running back holding a pair of cotton socks.
“Gertie wore these
yesterday. They were still in her shoes. Will this work?”
Lon glanced at Charlie,
who nodded.
“They’ll do just fine,”
Charlie said, then glanced at Lon. “Are you ready, Chief?”
Lon glanced around at the
small crowd of people who’d gathered to help search.
“We’re going to try this
first before we send everyone out in differing directions. If some of you want
to go home, you’re welcome. But if there are any who want to follow us and the
hound, then fan out in a grid behind him and do your best to keep up.”
A few waved and headed
back to their cars, but a good dozen of them stayed.
Lon heard one searcher
call out.
“That hound won’t track.
I reckon the rain has washed out her tracks and scent.”
“We’ll see,” Lon said,
and watched as Charlie Conroy got down on one knee and shoved the socks up
under Booger’s nose.
As he did, the hound
began to whine, as if sensing he’d just be given a task.
“Hunt, Booger! Hunt!”
Charlie said.
The massive bloodhound
lifted his head, sniffing the air, then put nose to ground and moved toward the
back of the building with Charlie hanging onto the leash. The moment they
reached the back door, Booger bayed.
“He’s on the scent,”
Charlie cried, and off they went, through two blocks of housing, across the
baseball field and then up into the woods, with the cops and the searchers
behind them.
