“Roger Carlton is a first-class jerk, Irene, and you would do well to heed the warning you were given. And if your precious Roger touches so much as a hair on that girl’s head, he’ll answer to me.” Johnny turned and strode to his car, the three girls huddled together in stunned silence. When he reached the Bel Air, he leaned inside and pulled out the red shoes Maggie had left behind.
“I think these belong to you, Irene.” He walked to where the girl stood, her mouth gaping, her arms hanging loosely at her sides. “In my mind, they’re pretty big shoes to fill. I don’t know if they’ll fit anymore.” Johnny turned on his heel, walked back to his car, and drove away.
~15~
A Time to Speak
Two hours later, Johnny was still driving around, trying to decide what to do. He had been back out to the reservoir and asked around, but no one had anything to offer. No one had seen a girl in a red prom dress wandering around the area, and everyone he talked to looked at him like maybe he was a little bit nuts when he had suggested it.
It was a perfect Sunday afternoon in May, and people were out and about enjoying the day. He saw people walking out of church, all dressed up, the women in hats, the kids done up in hair bows and bow ties. Two little boys raced down the street, loosening their ties as they ran, anxious to stretch their legs and be free of church for one more week. It reminded Johnny a little of him and Billy racing home the few times Momma had made them go. It had been a long time ago, when they weren’t much bigger than the little boys he’d just seen.
Momma had been a very faithful church goer for a while, until the young preacher at the church she had chosen up and married someone else. She had quit going right after that and they had never been back. When Johnny had asked her about it, she’d seemed sad and said God didn’t need people like her in his church. Johnny hadn’t known what she meant then, but he had thought about it since. Momma just never could get past her own pretty face. She always believed it was all she had to offer, and seemed lost when it wasn’t what some men wanted. He wondered if she had been born an ugly woman if it would have served her better in the end.
He drove past the police station and thought of Chief Bailey telling him to say hello to his Momma for him. Momma would never look twice at Chief Bailey, and if Bailey were a smart man, he wouldn’t spend any time looking at Momma. Johnny slowed and pulled into the station. Nobody should be here on a Sunday - so he was a little surprised to see a black and white in the empty parking lot. Well, speak of the devil. Chief Bailey pushed through the double doors on the front of the building and headed for his car at the same moment Johnny decided he had nothing to lose.
When Clark Bailey saw Johnny Kinross step out of his low-riding Bel Air, his step slowed and his eyes narrowed the slightest bit. Johnny Kinross was the last person Chief Bailey expected to see anywhere near the police station -- and on a Sunday afternoon to boot.
Johnny leaned back against his car and watched the Police Chief walk toward him.
“Mr. Kinross. What can I do for you, son?” Chief Bailey said cordially, extending his hand toward the young man as if he were an equal and didn’t have a reputation for being a hood.
“Chief.” Johnny clasped his hand and straightened up, looking the man in the eyes, taking his measure for a half a second. He hoped he didn’t regret this.
“I wanted to file a report, I guess. I’m not sure the person’s even missing, but if she is, and I don’t do anything about it, well....I’d feel terrible if she was in trouble.”
“How long’s your momma been gone?” Chief Bailey replied, concern flitting across his amiable face.
“No, um....Momma’s fine. It’s not her I’m here for.” Johnny shook his head.
“I see. Come on inside then, Johnny, and we’ll see what we can do. It’s too damn hot out already. By August this whole town’s gonna be a big puddle; we’ll all have melted away. It’s way too hot too soon.”
Johnny followed Chief Bailey inside and felt a little of the relief the chief had promised, but he was too knotted up inside to be reassured by a little shade and a whirring fan.
“All right.” The chief sank down into his office chair and took out a pen and an official looking form. “Tell me who’s missing.”
“Her name is Maggie,” Johnny started, “and I’m gonna tell you some things that you aren’t gonna write on that paper there.” Johnny nodded his head toward the paper Chief Bailey’s pen was poised above. He stared at him until Chief Bailey sighed, threw the pen down, and sat back in his chair, tossing one leg up on the corner of his desk.
“How about we just talk for a minute, and then we’ll decide whether we need to fill out a form at all. Deal?” Chief Bailey offered, folding his hands in his lap. Johnny nodded his head in response and sat back in his own chair, slightly more comfortable.
“Her name’s Maggie.” Chief Bailey prodded him.
“Her name’s Maggie. I don’t have a last name. I know she’s related to the Honeycutts. She was with me last night at the dance. Do you remember her?”
Chief Bailey nodded and brought his linked hands up to rest them on his head. “I remember. Real pretty gal, dressed in red, right? I thought you were going to the dance with Wilkey’s daughter, so I was a little surprised to see you leave with someone else.”
Johnny didn’t come to gossip like the ladies gathered in front of the church a few blocks down, and he slowly raised one eyebrow at Chief Bailey. The chief smiled a little bit and liked the kid just that much more for his unwillingness to kiss and tell.
“All right, then. Keep going. You left the dance together. Then what?”
“We ended up at the reservoir. We danced and talked. The battery died in my car, so we couldn’t get help until the morning. We ended up falling asleep. When I woke up, she was gone, but her shoes were still there. I looked for her all morning, and I went back this afternoon. Nobody’s seen her, and I don’t know enough about her to know where else to look.”
The chief screwed up his face in concentration, looking off for several moments, his hands still resting on his head.