Vivid (48 page)

V
ivid slept late the next morning. No one minded. Everyone figured
she still needed to recover from the fire. Only she and Nate knew her tiredness
stemmed from riding a Thunder God until dawn.

Sara James came by to visit one afternoon
a few days later, and Vivid was so glad to see her, she hugged her as tightly
as she could manage.

Sara looked around the quiet front room
and asked, "Is Miss Gail here?"

“No, she and my mother have gone to
Kalamazoo for a few days to do some shopping."

"I'm sorry I missed them," Sara
said. She had a yellowed handkerchief in her hand and spent a few minutes
fidgeting with it while Vivid waited to hear what else Sara might have to say.

"I came by to thank you for all
you've done."

Vivid could feel her heart breaking all
over again at the remembrance of Sara's double loss. "You've been very
strong, Sara."

"It hasn't been easy. That's the
other reason I came today, to say goodbye."

"You're going away?"

"Yes, down to Tennessee. I've been
staying with Kate, but my uncle's a preacher outside Knoxville and he and his
congregation are trying to buy some land in Kansas. They plan on migrating in
the spring and I've decided to go with them."

"Then I wish you happiness, Sara. Is
your husband, Quentin, going along?"

"I haven't seen him since we buried
little Quentin. Can't say I miss him any, not anymore. Last I seen him he was
cursing you and me both, holding us to blame for little Quentin's death. I
don't know where he is and don't much care."

Vivid then told Sara that she had seen
Quentin at the lacrosse field.

Sara hadn't seen her husband but when she
heard about the fire she expressed her condolences. "Good thing you were
able to get out."

"Yes, too bad we haven't been able to
find the culprit so far."

"Well, as the reverend always says,
the Lord works in mysterious ways. You're a good person, Dr. Lancaster, if you
weren't you would have burned up."

Vivid smiled warmly at the genuine tone of
Sara's words, then listened as the young woman added, "Wait and see, the
person who set that fire will be found out, especially with Mr. Nate on his
trail. It won't be long."

"Well, we do have what we believe is
the arsonist's shirt. Nate's been showing it around the Grove, but no one
recognizes it."

"Can I see it? I probably can't help
but it can't hurt to make sure."

Vivid went into the study. Using Nate's
hidden key she retrieved the shirt from a locked strongbox in his desk drawer,
then carried the shirt back out to show it to Sara.

Sara stared at the material, slightly
confused, as Vivid held it out, and asked, "Turn it around so I can see
the back."

Vivid complied, pointing out, "Miss
Edna has sold hundreds of these flannel shirts over the years. It could belong
to anyone."

Then Sara said coldly, "Not anyone.
Just Quentin. Hand it here, let me make sure."

Vivid felt the chills race over her body
as she passed the shirt to Sara's outstretched hand.

"See," Sara said, pointing to a
spot on the shirt's back. "He ripped it on a nail in the barn wall. This
is where I stitched the tear."

Vivid saw the stitches. They were fine
enough to be overlooked unless one knew they were there. "Is Quentin
capable of doing something so awful?"

"Quentin will do anything if someone
pays him enough."

Sara took one last look at the shirt and
gave it back to Vivid, who asked, "So you haven't seen him?"

"Nope. Like I said, haven't seen him
since the day my son died, but that doesn't mean he can't be still around. Have
Mr. Nate ask the barkeep over at Miss Maddie's old place. If anyone has seen
Quentin, he has; they're old drinking mates."

Sara then offered Vivid a short list of
other people and places that might help them discover Quentin's whereabouts.
"I want to say I can't believe he would do something so horrible, but I
know he would, especially if he was paid to."

Vivid asked, "Sara, do you think
someone did?"

She shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. Like
I said, he was mad at both of us. Could be he thought of burning you out on his
own, but not likely. He's never been smart enough to plan nothing, at least not
since I've known him. What are you going to do, Dr. Lancaster?"

"Wait until Nate and the others return
and hear what they think, but in the meantime I'll see what I can learn from
these names and places you've given me."

"You be careful," Sara warned.

"Don't worry," Vivid replied.
"That last encounter proved a bit close for my tastes. I never want to be
in such danger again."

They spoke for a few minutes more, then
Sara had to depart. They shared another long, fierce hug of goodbye, and Sara
asked, "May I write to you, Dr. Lancaster?"

"Only if you agree to address me as
Viveca."

Sara smiled with what looked like shy
elation and said, "I'd be pleased to."

"You know, Sara, according to Nate
and the Committee men, over the next few years many others of the race may
follow you and your uncle's congregation to Kansas to form new towns. So yes,
write me so we may gauge their progress and yours.''

They parted and Vivid waved until Sara and
her wagon disappeared from sight.

Vivid reentered the house and gathered up
the cups and other items from the tea. She couldn't help speculating on Sara's
startling identification of the red shirt. Could Quentin really be so
distraught over the death of his son that he wanted to burn her alive, or had
he been paid by someone? Like Sara, Vivid had no way of knowing.

Nate and the men returned late the next
day. They were startled by the news of the shirt's owner.

"Do you think he'll be easy to
locate?" Vivid asked, looking into Nate's hard eyes.

"The longer it takes me to find him,
the angrier I'm going to be. So for his sake, I hope he shows up soon."

Once word got around that the shirt's
owner had been identified, the people of the Grove began combing the woods for
Quentin James. It took only three days.

Nate found him lying on the Grayson front
porch one morning, trussed up in a large burlap seed bag that had been secured
at the neck with knotted rope. Only Quentin's head was visible above the bag as
he flopped around like a landed fish. The gag on his mouth kept his angry
curses from filling the air.

Nate called for everyone to come and look.
Vivid crowded around, as did everyone else. Quentin flopped more intensely as
they all stood gawking, the muffled curses rising, but he wasn't going
anywhere. They all knew that.

Magic piped up, “Looks like someone pinned
a note on him, Pa."

Sure enough, under Quentin's bouncing chin
a note had been attached.

Quentin tried to keep Nate from retrieving
the piece of brown paper, but Nate planted his big booted foot atop Quentin's
waist, only inches away from the most vulnerable portion of his anatomy, and he
stilled immediately.

Nate smiled as he leaned down and snatched
the note free.

"What's it say?" Joseph
Lancaster asked.

"It says, 'I found this varmint in my
barn last night trying to run off with Chester. When you're done skinning him,
send him back.' It's signed Hiram Farley."

"Hooray for Hiram," Abigail said
with a smile.

"Who's Chester?" Francesca asked
curiously.

"Hiram's rooster," Adam
explained with a laugh. "Much as Hiram loves that ornery old cock, we
might want to look and see if Quentin's been gelded down inside that bag."

Nate looked down at his daughters and
said, “Majestic and Satin, isn't it about time you headed off to school?''

Magic dropped her head, then uttered
slowly, "Oh, I suppose so." It was plain the girls found the idea of
attending school today far less interesting than the man on the porch. However,
Vivid went back into the house with her soon-to-be daughters and helped them
gather their papers and books. "Think of it this way," she told them,
"you'll be able to tell everyone at school Quentin has been found. None of
your classmates know."

"You're right, Viveca, but I'd still
rather be here today."

"I know, but school's very
important."

The sisters reluctantly agreed, then
trudged out to the road to await Vernon and the ride to school.

Back on the front porch, Vivid found only
her mother and Abigail. The man and the bagged Quentin were gone.

"They took him to the barn,"
Abigail said.

"To chat," Francesca added.

The chat took only a short while.

Quentin had been hired by Evan Cole. Paid
to burn the Grayson home, he had let his grudge against Vivid override his
instructions.

Quentin said Cole had been in the area for
weeks but that he didn't know the man's present whereabouts. Vernon took
Quentin to Niles the next morning, to be jailed there until his trial.

The presidential election intruded upon
the search for Cole as the men of the Grove cast their votes. Black men had
been given the vote in Michigan in 1867 and had always voted Republican. Like
their brethren in the South, they stood solidly behind the party of Mr. Lincoln,
even though President Grant's refusal to send troops into the blood-soaked
counties of Mississippi had left many Southern Republicans at the mercy of the
Redemptionists.

The Centennial year's pre-election
wranglings had been rife with backroom deals, political scandals, and
Republican party infighting. For the first time since 1860 the Republicans
began the year with no clear candidate to represent the party as presidential
nominee. Former House Speaker James G. Blaine, one of the most popular Republican
leaders, seemed almost assured of gaining the nomination until last April, when
his name became linked to one of many influence-peddling scandals prevalent in
Washington, and within the Grant administration. As Blaine's reputation went up
in flames the liberal wing of the party called for a reformer to lead the
ticket, thus canceling out the hopes of men such as Roscoe Conkling and Oliver
P. Morton. The liberals wanted Secretary of the Treasury Benjamin H. Bristow,
but Bristow's investigation of the Whiskey Rings had revealed the involvement
of President Grant's personal secretary Orville H. Babcock, and the red-faced
party bosses were adamantly opposed.

In the end the Republican name on the
ballot turned out to be that of Ohio Governor Rutherford B. Hayes, described as
"colorless" by some when compared to Lincoln and Grant, and termed
"a third-rate nonentity" by Henry Adams.

Francesca's orders of medical books,
supplies, and instruments to replace the ones Vivid had lost in the fire began
to arrive the day after the election. Vivid stored some of the boxed goods in
the Grayson cellar and the rest at the church. Adam and Nate promised to erect
a clinic for her once the weather broke in the spring, but until then she
planned on practicing out of the church activity room and from her office in
town.

Satin and Magic were now inseparable.
Satin had taken to mimicking her older sister s every move. She seldom wore
dresses anymore, preferring to romp in the denims Vivid had given her as a gift
for her birthday. She could now climb trees, fish, and snare rabbits. She'd
even gotten over her fear of Hector and had joined Magic and the big hawk on
many of their adventures in the woods behind the Crowley place. The watchful
eyes of the family and neighbors were on the children wherever they roamed.

It was Saturday and a beautiful crisp
November day when the girls went out early in the morning to see Mr. Crowley's
new kittens. By late in the day they had not returned. Vivid could feel ice
spreading over her heart.
Where were they?

Nate immediately went out to look for
them, as did Adam Crowley, Eli, and Vivid's father. Vivid, needing to do
something besides wait, grabbed her coat and medical bag, hitched up Michigan,
and with her mother, went to fetch Maddie and the dogs.

Maddie's yard was eerily quiet as Vivid
and France-sea approached the gate.

"Do you think she and the dogs are
out for a walk?" asked Francesca.

Vivid had no answer as she glanced around
the dark yard. The sense of something being wrong was strong enough for Vivid
to touch. Vivid knocked on Maddie's door. When there were no sounds of
movement, Vivid knocked again, harder this time, while Francesca peered into
the windows.

Vivid raised her fist to pound again but
stopped when she heard Francesca gasp. "Viveca, Maddie's on the floor,
bleeding. We must get to her!"

Vivid pushed her weight against the door
but it was locked from the inside. She frantically glanced around for something
to aid her in forcing the door and saw a pile of split wood stacked off to the side.
Vivid grabbed a log she hoped would be heavy enough and hurled it into the
panes of the big front window.