Keeping Faith by Cindy Bradford (serial 18)
Cindy Bradford
PART TWO
Wondering and Wandering
To miss the path, to go astray
To wander blindly in the night
But searching, praying for the light
Until at last we find the way…
chapter 7
Notre Dame, 1972
Immediately the authorities found Patrick in Indiana and questioned him about Sue’s disappearance. His coaches and teammates said it wasn’t possible that he had anything to do with her disappearance since he was playing in a pre-season non-conference tournament the day she was discovered missing as well as the day before and the day after.
Heartsick that something terrible had happened to Sue and feeling responsible, he was equally distraught to learn she hadn’t told him about the baby.
On Friday night he borrowed money from his roommate and flew to Dallas Saturday morning. From there he took the bus, probably, he figured the same one that had taken him back and forth to Townsend the two years before. Though the landscape hadn’t changed with miles and miles of trees and exits to a couple of towns off interstate 20, Patrick couldn’t help but think it was different.
When he stepped off at the station, memories poured down on him like a warm summer rain. This is really where it all started. He thought about his first day when he was filled with anger and bitterness, when this was the last place on earth he wanted to be. Then he met Sue. She had made him comfortable here. Now he was adrift, a stranger again. He wasn’t sure why he had come.
≈≈≈
“I’d like to meet with Chief Murray when he’s available,” Patrick told the receptionist at the police station.
She glanced up from filing her nails and Patrick noticed how young she looked to have bleached hair. He didn’t know much about the process, but it seemed that something might have gone wrong, maybe too much orange color in the mixture, or it could be the black roots and the lighting. He wasn’t sure, the lighting was definitely deficient.
“You have an appointment?” she asked, indifferently as she chewed gum and flicked the file against the metal desk. Her long, dangly earrings swayed to the rhythm of her chewing, reminding Patrick of one of those plastic bobble-heads he had seen in the back window of a Chevrolet sedan.
“No. I don’t. But I don’t mind waiting.”
“Well, you’ll have to. He’s not here.”
“Do you know when he might be back?”
“Nope.” She turned to study her long nails and reached for a bottle of polish.
Patrick couldn’t help but notice the name, Razzle Dazzle Raspberry. It didn’t exactly match her personality or anything else in the drab room. He had visited the police station where his dad worked a number of times and it was nothing like this. Though it wasn’t a fancy place by any measure it looked like a fine parlor compared to this room. These walls, once an olive green were now long faded and water stained from an apparent ceiling leak.
He took a seat, picked up a two year old copy of National Geographic, and flipped through the pages.
The steady drip of water from the window unit into a rusted metal pan, along with the constant smacking of the receptionist’s gum, were unnerving him. He expected the air conditioner to stop at any minute and for her to blow a bubble. He was right about the bubble.
When an hour had passed, he stood up and walked the couple of steps to her desk. “Do you think you could find out how long it might be before the chief comes in?”
“Is it an emergency?” she drawled sarcastically.
“No, but it could be,” he caught himself. “I mean I have to leave tomorrow.”
“Shouldn’t be much longer. He’s probably over at the coffee shop. He usually goes there about this time, most days.”
Patrick tried to hide his agitation, but knew he wasn’t doing a very good job when the door opened and the chief walked in.
He strolled by Patrick without a word, tipped his hat to the receptionist and went into the first office past her desk.
She mumbled something Patrick couldn’t hear but the man soon came to the door.
“You wanted to see me?”
“Yes, sir. I’m Patrick O’Brien. I…I’m…”
“I know who you are. Used to watch you play ball. Sit down,” he said gruffly as he motioned to the only chair. “So, why’d you come back?”
“I’m not sure,” trying to make eye contact with the officer’s steely stare. “I thought maybe I could find Sue.”
“We’ve looked everywhere,” he said, softening a little. He was a giant of a man, solid for his sixty-five years, except for the slight paunch that had developed around his middle. His hair was gray and cropped short.
“We have absolutely nothing to go on, not a single clue. No fingerprints, no blood, no note, no missing jewelry or money and no body. It’s like she walked off into thin air, except I’ve known that girl since she was a baby herself. I was a pallbearer at her father’s funeral. She wouldn’t have left that baby for anything.”
“But there has to be something. What about her car?”
“In the garage. No money was withdrawn from her account. Nobody saw her going anywhere. We checked with the train conductor. He couldn’t remember any young woman. He said a couple of older women, a soldier and a man in his early twenties bought tickets. His receipts all matched. The bus didn’t run that day. The taxi company hadn’t run in two days of the disappearance.”
The chief turned to face Patrick, his penetrating eyes focused directly at him. “I wouldn’t normally be telling you this, but your coaches convinced me they could account for you every minute of the time she disappeared.”
“Sir, I would never do anything to hurt Sue.”
“Son, you could have gone all day without saying that. Anything else? I’m a busy man.”
Patrick looked around, knowing that there was no one else waiting, but he knew his time was up. “One more question and I’ll leave. How’s Alice holding up?”
Rising to his feet to let Patrick know he was dismissed, the chief replied, “She’s strong, like her daddy. And I understand Dwayne’s parents are helping out. Are you going by to see the baby?”
Patrick shifted his gaze and he could feel the color drain from his face. “I don’t think that would be the best thing. I think Sue would use her old expression and say ‘Let sleeping dogs lie’. I’d rather you keep this visit between us.” A lengthy silence fell on the room.
“Glad I’m not the man who had to make that decision. Thanks for stopping by,” as he led Patrick out of his office. He turned without as much as a handshake.