Emory said nothing.
“Or, Mama said, maybe he’s hiding from a wife and kids he ran out on.”
No bride. No wife. Not ever.
“But I don’t think that’s it,” Lisa said. “I’d sooner believe he was an outlaw than a man who deserted his family.”
Emory looked over at her. “Why would you think that?”
“He just don’t seem the type. But something’s going on there. It’s invisible, but you can tell he carries it around with him.”
Silently, Emory agreed.
“If I was guessing,” Lisa continued, “I’d say he has a mean streak a mile wide. He keeps it under control. But if he ever let it loose, look out.”
Without realizing how disturbing her observations were to Emory, she added, “But he’s been awful nice to me, from right off when he looked into the truck and saw that I was ailing. He’s treated me nice, and not like he expects anything in return. If you know what I mean.”
Emory nodded understanding.
Lisa thoughtfully plucked at the frayed hem on the top sheet. “I don’t think he’s the kind of man who’d mess with me. Take advantage of a woman. You know?”
“No, I’m certain he’s not that kind of man.” Emory had been with him for three days, and he hadn’t taken advantage, even when she’d thrown herself at him. You almost got me, Doc.
“What do you make of him, Dr. Smith?”
Emory turned back to the window and watched him scratch the dog behind its ears. He unhooked the chain from its collar. Nuzzling his hand, the dog happily fell into step beside him as he turned and headed back toward the house.
“Honestly, Lisa, I have no idea what to make of him.”
Chapter 16
You warm enough back there?” Sam Knight looked at Jeff through the rearview mirror.
Riding in the backseat of the SUV, with its official markings on the door panels and light bar of the roof, he felt like a caged animal in a circus parade, part of the sideshow, but disliking it intensely. “I’m fine. Thanks.”
“Still cold as a witch’s tit this morning. But at least the snow has stopped. Let me know if you need more heat.”
“I will.”
“There’s Buddy.”
Knight pulled off the road and up to the entrance of a local bakery, where Grange was waiting out front. He was holding a flat box and a white paper sack in his gloved hands, stamping his feet to stay warm. As soon as the SUV came to a stop, he climbed into the passenger seat.
“Lord! It’s cold.”
“Thanks for volunteering to get our breakfast,” Knight said. “Coffee smells good. Pass a cup on back to Jeff. What kind of doughnuts did you get?”
“An assortment.”
Knight drove back onto the highway but stayed in the outside lane, driving with care. With so much care, in fact, it was maddening to Jeff.
Grange distributed the coffee and passed the box of doughnuts around. Knight, fortified with a bite of his, addressed Jeff in the mirror. “Dr. James called us this morning.”
Grange corrected him, mumbling around a bite. “Dr. Butler.”
Knight turned to his partner. “Huh?”
“Dr. Butler’s the lady. Dr. James is the man.”
“Oh, right,” Knight said. “I keep getting their names mixed up. Anyhow, Jeff, she called.”
“She called me, too.”
“Did she?”
He nodded as he blew on his coffee. “To let me to know that the clinic is offering an award for information.”
“That’s something, isn’t it?” Knight exclaimed. “Twenty-five grand.”
Jeff said, “I’m humbled by their generosity. To think that Emory’s associates would do that for her. For me.”
“Speaks well of both y’all.”
“Emory is highly regarded among her colleagues.”
“I read about her going to Haiti after the hurricane,” Knight said. “Volunteered for weeks at a time.”
“She’s made three trips and is planning to go again when she can work it into her schedule.”
Grange wiped sugar glaze off his fingertips with a paper napkin. “What does she do about her practice when she takes off like that?”
“Other pediatricians cover for her, and they’re glad to do it because she never forgets a favor and always returns it.”
“Sounds like she’s got a kind spirit,” Knight said as he reached into the box for a second doughnut. “A genuine humanitarian.”
“She is, which is just one of the reasons why I love her. But with all due respect,” Jeff said as he folded his half-eaten doughnut into a napkin and replaced the cap on his Styrofoam cup of coffee, “you’re telling me things about my wife that I already know. When are you going to tell me something that I don’t know? Like why you can’t find her and what’s being done to remedy that.”
“We’re working on it.”
“So you’ve said. Dozens of times. But I see no evidence of it.”
“There weren’t any developments overnight. We’re hoping for better luck today.”
“You’re depending on luck? Jesus.”
He turned away from the rearview mirror, choosing to look out the window rather than into Knight’s woeful eyes. They had exited the main highway and were now on one with only two opposing lanes and an occasional passing lane. It was a twisty road, the curves coming so frequently that the backseat ride was making Jeff carsick.
“Don’t be discouraged,” Grange said. “We’re working on other angles.”
“You mentioned those last night,” Jeff said. “You failed to specify what those angles are.”
“Well, for one, there’s the money.”
Jeff’s head snapped around to Grange, who was watching him over the back of his seat.
“Emory’s money,” the detective clarified, as if Jeff didn’t know to whose money he referred.
“Your wife is loaded,” Knight said. “Family fortune. She could up and quit and never have to ask another kid to say ‘aah.’” He laughed. “If I was that rich, I’d never turn a lick.”
“That’s offensive,” Jeff snapped.