Mercy (Buchanan-Renard 2)
“You did call the police, didn’t you?” he asked Michelle.
She looked exasperated. “Yes, I did. Ben Nelson, the chief of police in St. Claire, took the report. He’s investigating, and like my father, he thinks it was kids looking for drugs. Hopefully, word will get out that I don’t keep any there, and this will be an isolated incident.” “I’m not sure I can do anything constructive . . .”
Jake disagreed. “You work for the government, and you carry a gun. I figure those folks in Justice wouldn’t give you a weapon unless they had trained you to use it.”
“Daddy, you sound like you want him to shoot someone.”
“I’m just saying he’s an expert. Ben Nelson is a fine chief of police. We’re lucky to have him,” he said. “But two heads are better than one. Isn’t that right, Theo?”
“I doubt that the chief would want me to interfere in his investigation.”
“You wouldn’t be interfering, and I think he’d be happy for your assistance.”
“For heaven’s sake, Daddy. It was just vandalism. Ben will catch the kids. Give him time.”
“Mike, honey,” Jake said, “why don’t you go get me a glass of cold milk from the refrigerator.” The minute she was out of earshot, he turned back to Theo, leaned closer, and lowered his voice. “Pride’s going to be my daughter’s downfall,” he said. “She’s stubborn and so independent she thinks she can take on the world by herself, but she’s got enough on her plate being a doctor. Maybe it was vandalism. Maybe it wasn’t. But since you’re going to be passing time with us for a few days, I think you ought to look into this situation. Besides, she saved your life — you said so yourself — and you owe it to my daughter to watch out for her while you’re here.” He glanced over his shoulder before whispering, “I’m thinking it might be a good idea if you stayed at her house.” He saw Michelle walk out of the kitchen and quickly added, “Don’t let her know I said anything to you.” As Michelle was handing her father the glass, Jake said emphatically so that both could hear, “Yes, sir, I think Ben could use another opinion. I’ve had my say and that’s the last you’ll hear about the subject.”
Michelle grinned. “For how long?”
“Don’t you sass your daddy. I just thought Theo might like to help out.”
“I’d be happy to take a look at the clinic,” Theo offered.
“Good. Mike can take you there now, and then tonight you can stay at my place . . . or with Mike,” Jake said with a conspiratorial glance at Theo. “We’ve both got extra bedrooms. I won’t hear of you staying at some motel. You’re my partner in the tournament, so you’re also my guest, and you can eat all your meals free here at The Swan.”
“No, that’s all right.”
He said it so quickly Michelle laughed. “I don’t think Theo likes your gumbo.”
She gave him that smile again. That incredible smile. What the hell was he getting into? This fishing trip was getting complicated. “I forgot,” he said. “Cooper sent another box of supplies for you. It’s in the trunk of the car.”
“That was nice of him.”
“He’s wooing her is what he’s doing.”
“He’s a married man, Daddy.”
“He’s wooing you to join his practice and move to the big city. That’s what I meant.”
A knock sounded at the door interrupting the conversation. They all turned as the door opened wider and a teenage boy stuck his head inside. The kid was huge. He had a buzz haircut and looked as if he weighed over two hundred fifty pounds.
“Mr. Renard?” His voice cracked when he called out Jake’s name. “Since you’re not officially open for business, would it be all right if I came inside?”
Jake recognized the boy. His name was Elliott and he was the oldest of Daryl Waterson’s brood. Daryl and Cherry had eight strapping boys, all healthy and fit, but the family was in a bad way financially, ever since an unfortunate shredder accident at the mill. The older boys were working part-time jobs to help feed the family until Daryl could get back on his feet.
“Elliott, you know my rules. No one underage steps foot inside The Swan anytime, day or night. You don’t want me to lose my liquor license, do you?”
“No, sir, I sure don’t.”
“You looking for work?”
“No, sir. I got a good job over in St. Claire with the packing company unloading boxes on weekends. We were all just wondering how long — ”
“Who exactly is we?” Jake demanded.
“Some of the guys.”
“Are they all underage too?”
“Yes, sir, I guess they are, and the girls too, but they — ”
“Shut the door after you, son. You’re letting the flies in. You be sure to give my best to your folks, and tell Daryl I’ll be over Sunday to pass the time with him.”
Elliott looked confused. “Yes, sir, I will, but —”
“Get going now.”
“Daddy, don’t you think you ought to find out what they want to see you about?” Michelle asked.
Theo started for the door. “Maybe one of them knows something about the vandalism at your clinic,” he said. “We ought to talk to them.”
“Maybe I was too hasty,” Jake admitted. “Is somebody sick or hurt, Elliott? Mike, maybe you ought to have a look.”
Elliott was frantically shaking his head. “It’s nothing like that,” he said. “I mean no one’s hurt.” He turned around, leaned out the door, and shouted, “Hey, you guys, he wears a gun. Is that cool or what?”
The teenager whirled around again just as Michelle walked forward. He glanced at her legs and quickly looked away. “No, ma’am, I mean, no, Dr. Mike, no one needs to see you. I mean we all like looking at you . . . no, that’s not what I mean. I’m just saying no one’s sick or nothing. Honest.”
Elliott had turned three shades of red. Staying coherent in the presence of a beautiful woman was obviously beyond him. Theo had great empathy for the kid.
“Do you know something about the vandalism?” she asked.
“No, ma’am, I don’t, and I did ask around just like your dad told my dad to tell me to do. No one knows anything, and it’s kind of odd ’cause usually if kids do something like that, they like to brag. You know what I mean? Only no one’s bragging. Nobody I talked to knows anything. Honest.”
“Then why are you here, Elliott?”
He couldn’t quite bring himself to stop staring at Michelle, but he was able to point at Theo. “Uh . . . we were all just hoping . . . uh, that is, if he doesn’t mind . . . uh, maybe Coach Buchanan could come outside now and meet some of the team.”
Michelle was sure she hadn’t heard correctly. “What did you just say?”
“Maybe Coach Buchanan could come out and meet some of the team.”
She blinked. “Coach Buchanan?”
Theo was at a loss for words. Where in God’s name would Elliott get the idea . . . Then it clicked and he started laughing. “There was this kid —”
Elliott interrupted his explanation when he shouted outside, “Coach is coming out. Everybody get ready.”
Jake was nudging Theo between his shoulder blades. “Might as well step outside, son, and find out what all the ruckus is about.”
“This is all a misunderstanding,” he said as Michelle walked to the door. Theo followed her and was about to explain, but the second he stepped out into the sunlight, a resounding cheer went up. He looked around in amazement. The parking lot was filled with cars and pickups and kids, at least forty of them, and every single one was shouting and whistling.
Four young, perky, blond-haired girls moved forward in unison. They were all wearing the same outfit, white shorts and red T-shirt. One of them had a pair of red-and-white pompoms, and she led the others in a cheer.
“Give me a B,” she shouted, and was aptly rewarded with a screeching, “B!” “Give me a U, give me a K, give me an A, give me an N, give me an A, give me an N. What’s that spell?”
“Beats me,” Theo said dryl
y.
“Bukanan!” the crowd roared.
Michelle burst into laughter. Theo put his hands up, trying to quiet the mob. “I’m not your coach,” he shouted. “Listen to me. It’s all a misunderstanding. This kid —”
It was hopeless. No one paid any attention to his protest. The exuberant teenagers came running toward him, all shouting at the same time.
How in thunder had this gotten so out of hand? He felt Jake put his hand on his shoulder, and he glanced back at him.
The old man was smiling broadly. “Welcome to Bowen, son.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
He tried to clear up the misunderstanding, but the boys, obviously high on testosterone, wouldn’t let Theo get a word in as they surrounded him, each shouting to be heard over the others. They wanted Coach to know what their special talents were and what positions they wanted to play. One boy called Moose shoved his way to the front of the crowd and told Theo he thought he would make a good linebacker. From the kid’s size, Theo thought he could probably handle the entire line.
He kept trying to quiet them down so he could explain, but they were too excited to listen. In the background, the cheerleaders were doing back flips across the parking lot.
Michelle wasn’t much help. She couldn’t seem to stop laughing. Then one boy thought he might like to get a closer look at Theo’s gun. Theo’s reaction was swift, instinctive. He grabbed the kid by the wrist and pushed. The boy landed on his knees.
“Cool reflexes, Coach.” Moose nodded as he shouted his approval.
“You kids back away,” Jake shouted. “Let Coach and Mike get to his car. Go on now. Move out of the way. They’ve got to get over to Mike’s clinic so Coach can start investigating.”
Calling Theo “Coach” was only making the matter worse, and from the grin on Jake’s face, Theo knew he was doing it on purpose.
Michelle took Theo’s hand and led the way through the throng while Theo continued to try to get the kids to listen to him. The pair wound their way around the vans and pickups to where he’d parked his rental car. He opened the passenger door for Michelle and was immediately surrounded again by the high schoolers. Theo was a tall man, but some of the boys towered over him. He couldn’t help but think that, with the right training and motivation, they could be one hell of a team.
He gave up trying to explain and simply nodded as he walked around to the driver’s side and got in.
“Yeah, right, center,” he said as he pulled the door closed and hit the lock button.
“Center what?” she asked.
“That kid with the earring wants to play center.”
She was biting her lower lip to keep from laughing, but as they were leaving the parking lot, Theo was subjected to yet another cheer, and Michelle lost it.
“Give me a B!”
“You know what those kids need?” he asked.
“Let me guess. A football coach.”
“No, they need an English teacher, someone who can teach them how to spell.”
“They’re just very happy you’re here,” she said. She wiped the tears away from her eyes and let out a sigh.
“Listen,” he said, “all I did was stop for gas, and this kid mistook me for the coach.”
“They’re going to be very disappointed you’ve led them on. Oh, my, I haven’t laughed like that in a long time.”
“Glad I could help,” he said dryly. “Tell me something. How come no one in this town will listen to me?”
“They’re too busy trying to impress you. Are you going to let Andy Ferraud quarterback this year?”
“Very funny.”
“He’s got a good arm.”
He stopped the car at the intersection and turned to her. “I came to fish.”
After a few seconds Michelle realized the car wasn’t moving. He had obviously stopped to wait for her to give him directions, and there she sat, like a lump, staring at him.
“Turn left here,” she instructed. “My clinic’s a few blocks down this road. If you keep going, you’ll run into my house. It’s about a block further along the curve. It’s a little two-bedroom house actually. Nothing fancy. I’m rambling, aren’t I? It’s odd,” she added. “I think you make me nervous.”
“Why is that odd?”
“I should make you nervous. After all . . .”
“What?”
“I’ve seen you naked.”
“And you were, of course, naturally impressed.”
“Your appendix impressed me.”
“Whatever it takes to make a beautiful woman notice me,” he said as he steered the car to the left.
“There’s my clinic.”
It would have been hard to miss. The clinic was the only building on the gravel road. Theo pulled into the black tarred lot on the side of the building and parked the car near a giant sycamore tree. The branches of the tree draped across the roof. It was a disaster waiting to happen.
“You should get someone to trim those branches for you. A good lightning storm and you could lose your roof.”
“I know. It’s on my to-do list.”
Her clinic was a small, rectangular, stone building that had been freshly painted white. The front door was black, and above the doorknob in the center was a black plaque with Michelle’s name in gold letters. There were two overturned potted geraniums in cement planters flanking the stone walkway. Both of the planters had been smashed.
Michelle led him to the back entrance of the building. There were trash bags ripped apart, and the metal garbage container had been overturned. The backyard resembled a dump site.
“I just finished painting the door, and look what they did to it.”
Across the white enameled door, the word “bitch” had been spray-painted — spelled correctly, Theo noticed.
She pointed to a discarded spray can on the ground. “They got the paint from the supply closet.”
He glanced at the back lot again, then backed out of the way so Michelle could get her key into the lock to let him inside. She brushed against him as she walked past into the back hall and flipped on the lights.
There were three examination rooms, and all of them appeared to be intact. Aside from the spray paint on the walls, the exam tables and the cabinets had been left alone. The doors were open and the supplies had been overturned, but it didn’t appear that much had been tampered with.
Her office was another matter altogether. Theo whistled when he saw it. The room looked as if a cyclone had hit it. Her desk had been turned on its side, the drawers ripped out and smashed in, and there were papers everywhere.
“I meant it when I said I hadn’t had time to start cleaning up,” she warned. “I took one look and called Ben.”
Theo was looking at an old sofa across the room. One of the vandals had taken a knife to it. The burgundy leather had been shredded, and the stuffing was sticking out like puffed wheat. It looked like someone had worked himself into a rage in this room.
“Look what those creeps did to my door. I always keep my office closed, but I never lock the door. All they had to do was turn the knob. They went to a lot of trouble kicking it in.”
“Maybe they had just figured out you didn’t have any hard drugs around.”
“And went crazy?”
“Possibly.”
She started down the hallway. “Wait until you see the front. It’s worse.”
Theo continued to stand in the office doorway staring at the wreckage.
“What are you doing?”
“Figuring out the pattern.”
“What pattern?”
He shook his head. “How come your brother and your dad haven’t started cleaning up the place? Jake told me he offered, but you wouldn’t let him touch anything. Why not?”
“I’m going to have to put the files back together first or at least be here when they do it so I can supervise. The information in the patient files is confidential, and I need to make sure all the reports get back in the right folders.”/> “I thought you were just opening this clinic.”
“I am.”
“Then where did all the patient files come from?”
“They’re Dr. Robinson’s files. He left Bowen two months ago and sent all his patient files to me. I found out about it after the fact,” she said. “I knew he hated Bowen, but he really left his patients in the lurch. He told my dad that life was too short to work in a, and I quote, ‘Godforsaken shanty town.’”
“With that attitude, his patients must have loved him,” he said.
“No, they didn’t like him much, and they only went to him for medical help when they were desperate. They knew how he felt about our town . . . and about them, or rather, us. You ready to see the front office?”
“Sure.” He followed her down the hall and around the corner to the nurses’ station behind the reception area. A glass partition that separated the space was shattered, and most of the jagged glass was still on the floor. There was a broken window next to the file cabinets. He slowly crossed the room to get a closer look at it. Then he looked at the floor below and nodded.
“Be careful where you step,” she warned.
Though it didn’t seem possible, the nurses’ station was much worse. The countertop had been torn out of the wall and was on the floor on top of a mound of torn files and papers. The fabric on the chairs in the reception room had also been cut. They were all too badly damaged to be repaired.
Theo was glancing from the reception room to the nurses’ station when Michelle interrupted his concentration.
“Thank God I’m starting a vacation.”
“It’s going to take more than two weeks to get this place in shape again.”
She disagreed. “Two of my friends are going to drive up from New Orleans. It shouldn’t take us more than one long day to get files in order. They’re both nurses and will know what goes where. Once the paperwork is put away, John Paul and Daddy can help me paint. I’ve got enough time,” she added. “But not the money to replace the furniture, not yet anyway.” She picked up one of the chairs and put it against the wall, then bent to shove the white cotton stuffing back inside. “I guess duct tape will work for now.”