The Ruth Valley Missing (22 page)

“Bears? Really? In these woods?”

He nodded and popped the barrel in
place, making me jump. “Where’ve you been this early?”

“I went for a run.”

Jack squinted towards the woods.
“Back there?”

“Sure. You know, they say running
through rough terrain like that is a really good workout. Of course, that was
before you told me there could be a bear running around out there. Now it seems
more like practical training.”

“You can’t outrun a bear, James.”

“I guess I need to add ‘tree
climbing’ to my morning regimen then.”

“Or we need to teach you to shoot.”

I gave an exaggerated shudder. “No,
thanks. I’m not good around guns.”

Jack smiled. “That’s right. I forgot.
Well, then, let me put this one up.”

I followed Jack into the house and
opened the fridge, checking the contents. “You want some breakfast?”

I drummed my fingers on the door,
grabbing a package of bacon and a carton of eggs with my free hand, waiting for
an answer. I popped up to see Jack’s face hovering over the other side of the
door. He leaned over and gave me a quick peck on the forehead. “Mind if I grab
a shower first?”

“Not at all. You stink.”

“Correction. I smell manly.”

“If by manly you mean ‘like whiskey
and old socks’, then yes. Very manly. Go shower. I’ll have things ready when
you come downstairs.”

I went to work prepping for
breakfast, listening for the water to stop running upstairs before putting the
eggs on. I was about to go ahead with them, when there was a knock at the front
door.

“Can you get that?” Jack yelled
downstairs. “I still need to put on some pants.”

I swung open the front door and
swallowed.

“Hello, Sisters.”

Two nuns, neither of them Sister
Marjorie, stood at the door. I heard Jack coming down the stairs, slowing as he
got close to the bottom.

“Come in, Sisters. What can I do for
you? Everything’s okay I hope?”

The nuns stepped just inside the
door, but didn’t come in any further.

“Everything’s fine, Sheriff. We
won’t be long. Making the rounds, visiting the neighbors.” She held out a
basket of baked goods. “Wanted to stop by while we were over this way.”

“We didn’t expect to kill two birds
with one stone,” added the other nun, looking over at me, “so to speak.”

Jack grabbed the basket I’d
neglected to accept. “This is very kind of you. Can you stay for coffee?”

I relaxed as they both shook their
head. “Sadly, no. Lots to do.”

The other sister looked at Jack’s
wet hair and then over at me. “And we wouldn’t want to interrupt anything.”

I opened the door wide. “Maybe next
time.”

Each sister gave me a forced smile
as they walked out. I slammed the door behind them and made my way to the
kitchen, Jack in tow.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” I didn’t look up as
I threw the eggs in the pan.

“You seemed eager to see them
leave.”

I pushed at the eggs in the pan,
formulating a response.

“They’re just so…so...judgey.”

“‘Judgey’?”

“Yeah, they look at me all Judge-y
Judgerson, with their stupid judging.”

Jack leaned forward on the counter,
covering his mouth with one hand. I could see the corners of his eyes begin to
crinkle.

“Are you laughing at me?”

Jack cleared his throat, and pulled
his mouth into a straight line, moving his hand away. “No, ma’am. ” He added, mumbling,
“And I’m certainly not judging you.”

“Oh, shut up and get your plate.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I smiled as he got up and grabbed a
dish, piling a healthy amount of bacon on it. “You’re so accommodating.”

“I know where my bread is buttered.
Or bacon is fried, I guess.”

I scooped some of the finished eggs
on his plate, kissing him on the cheek.

“And don’t you forget it.”

“What’s this?” Father Mike looked at
the blue folder I tossed on the diner table as I slid into the corner booth.

“It’s clearly labeled: Bake Sale.”

“Thanks, I got that.”

I slid further into the booth,
positioning myself next to Father Mike, and placed my hand on the folder. “It’s
full of details about my ‘new assignment’ so I don’t have to bore everyone in
the diner with the details.”

“Very nice, 007. You sure it wasn’t
so you could sit closer to me without raising any eyebrows?”

I flared my nostrils and shook my
head.

Father Mike laughed. “That one was
on purpose. Didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Mornin’ Father, James.” Emma stood
in front of the table, smoothing her yellow frock, chewing on her lip. “What
can I get ya’ll?”

“Sunshine special for me. And orange
juice.”

Emma smiled at me and nodded, then
looked at Father Mike, her smile fading. “And you, Father?”

“Same for me, Emma. How are you this
morning?”

“I’m okay,” she replied quietly.
“I’ll get your order in.”

As she turned to walk away, I kicked
Father Mike’s leg under the table.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“That’s your fault you know,” I
said, nodding in Emma’s direction.

“What are you talking about?”

“Last time we were in here you were
a grump. I think she took it personally.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I speak the truth.”

“I think under the circumstances, I
had good reason to be out of sorts.”

I put my hands up. “I’m not debating
that. Doesn’t change that there was collateral damage.”

“Fine. Fine. I’ll fix it.”

Emma returned to the table, filling
two glasses and setting the carafe of juice on the table. I gave Mike another
nudge.

“How’s your mother doing, Emma?”

Emma looked up. “Oh, about the same.
She had a bit of a spell this mornin’. But she’s gettin’ along.”

“Anything I can do for you?”

Emma’s dimples slowly made their
appearance. “No, Father. That’s very kind, but we’re fine.”

I cleared my throat.

“Emma,” Mike continued, shooting me
a look, “I wanted to apologize to you. Last time I was in here, I wasn’t
feeling too hot, and I think I may have been rude. There’s no excuse for my
behavior, and if it upset you I wouldn’t forgive myself.”

Emma beamed. “Oh, don’t worry about
it. We all have our down days.”

“That’s a load off my heart, Miss
Emma. Thank you.”

Emma skipped back to the kitchen,
and Father Mike grinned at me, eyebrows raised. “I’m good, right?”

“You laid it on a little thick for
my taste, but Emma’s happy. That’s all that matters.”

He shook his head, grinning, and
opened the blue folder, scanning through the contents. He sipped his juice,
slowly, his grin now gone, and flipped through the pages.

“This is...”

“Impressive?”

“I was gonna say ‘thorough’, but
yeah, a little bit of that, too.”

I was up all night compiling every
detail I could think of that could lead us to what the nuns in this town were
up to. An account of both abductions, every detail about the places I’d been
held, the wardrobe in the convent, the surgical tools, anything and everything
I knew.

Mike leaned forward a bit, speaking
in a hushed tone. “How did you know about Joan’s husband? The truck?”

“She told me.”

“Really?”

“What can I say, I have a face
people trust.”

He laughed. “Is that what they tell
you?”

“How’d you know about that?”

“People tell their priest a lot in
confession, James.”

Emma walked up to the table,
balancing two plates loaded with hash browns, eggs, and extra bacon. “Here you
go.” She looked at the blue folder Mike quickly closed. “Oh! Are you working on
this year’s bake sale?”

We nodded in unison.

“I really want to make something
this year. I always get stuck babysittin’ instead.”

“Consider yourself signed up then,”
I replied.

“Really? Oh, James, you’re the
best!” she squealed as she left the table.

I shrugged and dug into my
breakfast. Father Mike returned to the folder.

“So, there are some notations in
here about photos?”

I nodded as I swallowed a mouthful
of eggs. “I put a note next to anything that I have a photo to back it up.”

“And they are where?”

“Uploaded to a password protected
account online. After the break-in at my place, I figured it was too risky to
keep physical copies around. I even deleted the local copies from my phone and
laptop.”

“There are no hard copies?”

“Well, except for the few I gave to
you.”

“And the ones you mailed to a safe
place.”

“Hmm?” I asked, mouthful of bacon. I
swallowed, remembering my threat at our last diner meeting. “Oh, right. Those.”

“That wasn’t true was it?”

“Not at the time.”

He shook his head and sing-songed
quietly. “Pants on fire.”

“Oh, whatever. Somehow I doubt
you’ve been one hundred percent forthcoming with me. Where’d you pick up those
fighting skills, Father?”

“What skills? Not my fault you fight
like a girl.”

“No, no, no, I lived in the city. I
took self-defense classes. You have training.”

“Seminary. People don’t recognize
what a well-rounded education you get there.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”

I continued eating in silence while
Father Mike finished reading the contents of the folder. He flipped a page,
then looked at me over the folder. “Really?”

“Last page?”

I smiled, remembering what I wrote
as I finished the night before.

This folder will self-destruct in
10...9...8...7...

Just kidding. But seriously. You
should probably burn this or something.

“I’m hilarious.”

Mike shook his head. “You have
issues.”

“You're not the first to say so.”

“I’m not surprised.”

We both grabbed our juices, grinning
over the tops of our glasses. I set mine down and grimaced as I watched Mike’s
smile change from genuine to forced, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he
did.

“Didn’t expect to see you two here.”

Jack stood over the table, looking
down at us. I was relieved to see it was him and not another nun.

Father Mike leaned forward, resting
his arm on top of the folder. “Sheriff, good to see you. Care to join us?”

“For a minute. Can’t stay too long.
Some of us have work to get to.” Jack sat down and slid his arm around my
waist, before grabbing a piece of bacon off my plate. “So, what are you ladies
chatting about?”

Father Mike replied in a calm voice,
calmer than I would have expected given Jack’s comment. “Jameson volunteered to
coordinate this year’s bake sale. We’re discussing what needs to be done, what
her ideas are for this year. I won’t bore you with the details.”

“You know, Jack makes a wicked
chocolate cake, Father.” I looked at Jack and gave him a big smile. “You have
to make some for the bake-off.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Bake-off? I
don’t know. And I wouldn’t call it ‘wicked’. Particularly in present company.”

“He knows what I mean.” I gave Jack
a playful nudge, doing my best to ease the tension at the table.

Mike cleared his throat. “I am sure
I can leave convincing Jack to grace us with his cake to you.”

I ignored Mike’s smirk and hoped
Jack would too.

“We’ll talk about it later. Over
dinner, okay?” Jack took me by surprise as he planted his lips on mine before
getting up from the table. He was usually more reserved about showing affection
in public. “Father, see you on Sunday.”

Father Mike nodded and watched Jack
as he stopped at the counter to grab a bag and then head out the door. “Well,
that was a bit primal.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” I said,
unconvincingly. “Wait, what?”

“He came over to mark his
territory.”

“Stop. I’m not territory. And he
wasn’t marking anything.”

“You know, he hasn’t been in to
confess in a long while. Probably doesn’t want to talk to me about his impure
thoughts.”

“Okay, that’s just...ew.”

“I told you. Priests get to hear
everything.”