“Tom . . . come on.”
He set down the cup and looked steadily at her. “I once treated a young woman from Athens Point, Mississippi. That’s Lusahatcha County. She looked white, but she was African-American. Her mother-in-law brought her in. The woman had some female trouble, but her real problem was psychiatric. She refused to see a psychiatrist, but I managed to get a few things out of her.”
“Such as?”
“Her husband had been murdered by the Ku Klux Klan down that way. And she’d been assaulted the same night. Just as Viola had—a gang rape. Her recollections weren’t very coherent. She and her husband were taken to the crime scene by boat.” Tom closed his eyes as if to see the past more clearly. “But she did describe a tree. A cypress tree with chains hanging from it. And either she or her mother-in-law used the term ‘Bone Tree.’”
“Was that crime ever reported to the police?”
“I’m pretty sure they told the FBI about it. But they never found the husband’s body. The tree, either. The local police down there took the position that it was all a lie made up to cover the fact that the husband had run off with another woman.”
“Christ.”
“That’s the way it was back then, Cait. I wish I had more details, but I don’t.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I’m going down there tomorrow. Maybe I’ll see if I can find that woman.”
Tom’s expression made plain what he thought of this idea.
“Do you remember her name?”
“No. And I don’t have records of it, either. This was thirty-five years ago.” Tom looked over his shoulder at the patio door. “Let’s get Melba. She’s gone far beyond the call of duty tonight.”
Caitlin nodded, but she didn’t go to the door. She looked up at Tom and said, “You are loved by more people than you’ll ever know. By me, by your family, by thousands of patients you’ve taken care of. Can’t you trust us to take care of you this time?”
Tom’s knees creaked like horsehair ropes as he slid off the bar stool and stood erect. When he took Caitlin in his arms, the familiar smell of cigars seemed to come from his pores. “They can’t help me now,” he said. “I told you how you could, but you can’t go against your nature, any more than I can go against mine.”
She tried to pull away, but he held her tight.
“The past is always with us, darling,” Tom went on. “Sometimes we carry it lightly, but other times it’s like dragging a wounded brother behind you. I’ve got a debt to pay, and nobody can pay it but me.”
Caitlin’s throat ached like it had when she was a little girl and her father told her he was moving out of their house.
“Forget what I asked you to do,” Tom said. “Print anything you want, except that you found me. Just give me time to do what I must for our family.”
She thought about Penn’s desperate worry for his father. Keeping Tom’s location from him seemed unthinkable, and yet both Drew and Melba had done it. Their actions—and her own quandary—were testament to how much belief Tom inspired in people. She thought of Jamie and Keisha and all the reporters working practically around the clock to find the truth at the bottom of the Double Eagle murders. If she granted Tom’s request, she would be betraying both their faith and their work. But after weighing all in the balance, she realized she had no choice.
“Twenty-four hours?” she asked into his chest.
“Yes.”
“One minute longer and I’m calling in the Marines.”
Tom squeezed her once more, then kissed her forehead, walked to the patio door, and rapped on its glass.
Three seconds later, Melba slid open the door and walked in shivering.
“I’m sorry, Mel,” Tom said, lifting an afghan off the back of the couch and draping it around her shoulders.
“I’m fine,” the nurse said. “You two get this mess straightened out?”
At the same moment Tom said, “I think we did,” Caitlin said, “I’m afraid not.” Melba heard both answers and realized the situation had not improved.
Caitlin looked at the nurse. “Are you going to stay the night with him?”
“I’m going to stay until Mr. Garrity gets back.”
Caitlin nodded gratefully. “I hope that’s sooner rather than later.”
A shadow had fallen over Tom’s face. “I do, too.”
“I’m heading back to the paper. If you change your mind about anything we said, you call me, and I’ll send the cavalry.”
Tom managed a smile. He’d always loved western metaphors.
Caitlin kissed him on the cheek, then turned and walked to the side door. Only when she reached it did she realize that Melba had followed her. The black nurse’s large brown eyes had fear in them, she realized.
“How badly is he hurt?” Caitlin whispered.
Melba sucked her lips between her teeth and shook her head. “Dr. Elliott did a good job on the wound. But Dr. Cage has so many co-morbid conditions, it’s a miracle he’s alive on a normal day, much less under these circumstances. He needs a week in the hospital.”
“I tried, but he won’t listen to me.”
“He don’t listen to nobody,” Melba said bitterly. “Sometimes that’s good, but not now.”
“I promised him that I wouldn’t tell Penn where he was. Do you think I should break that promise?”
“I can’t answer that. I swore to Penn that I’d tell him if Doc called back, and I haven’t. I guess that’s partly because Doc asked me not to. But I’m not sure Penn could really do much to fix things now.”
Caitlin squeezed the nurse’s forearm. “Do you have any idea what Tom is really up to?”
“I don’t. All I know is, he’s hurting in a way I’ve never seen before. Deep down in his soul, he’s sick like. It hurts me to see it.”
Caitlin nodded in commiseration.
“How much danger do you figure we’re in?” Melba asked.