Миранда Джеймс - Claws For Concern

The young man said, “No, she’s not here today.”

“Do you know when she will be on duty again?” I asked.

“Tomorrow, I think,” the young man replied. “Let me look at the schedule.” He focused on the computer, tapped a few keys, and perused the screen. “Yes, tomorrow, seven a.m. till five p.m.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Guess I’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

“If your cousin was admitted, you can talk to the attending,” the young man said.

I nodded and repeated my thanks.

“No luck?” Jack asked when I joined him.

“No, she’s off today. Won’t be in again until tomorrow morning,” I said. “Looks like we’ll have to leave her until later, unless you want to try to track her down at home.”

“Let’s at least see if we can turn up her address or a phone number.” Jack pulled out his cell phone and began to tap on it.

“We can sit in the waiting room.” I was aware that the young man at the desk was watching us, and I didn’t feel comfortable with that.

Jack followed me, phone in hand, to a corner of the waiting room. We took seats next to each other against the wall. I watched as he continued his search for Leann Finch.

“I subscribe to one of the websites that gives you phone directory type of information,” Jack said. “I found our Dr. Finch.” He frowned. “The phone number must be unlisted, but I have her address.” He showed me the screen, and I read the address.

“That’s only a few blocks from here.” I checked my watch. “It’s not quite eleven thirty yet. She could be at church if she’s a churchgoer. Since it’s on the way, though, why don’t we go there and see if she’s at home? If she’s not, we can go have lunch and come back afterward.”

“Works for me,” Jack said.

The drive to Leann Finch’s street took only about three minutes. The neighborhood was a modest one with homes built mostly in the late 1940s, after the war, when Athena had a small growth spurt. Dr. Finch’s street featured one-story bungalows with lots that kept the neighbors from getting too close. Most houses had plenty of trees shading them, and the whole block appeared to take pride in their yards. Every one on Dr. Finch’s block looked manicured and well kept.

“Nice neighborhood,” Jack said. “Reminds me of my former neighborhood in Tullahoma. I sold my house when I got married. My wife’s place was actually bigger.”

“They certainly do keep things looking neat and tidy,” I said.

Most of the bungalows had carports, and Dr. Finch’s was no exception. Her carport was empty. I pulled into her driveway in order to turn the car around.

“On to lunch,” I said. “How do you feel about eating at the bistro?”

“Fine with me,” Jack said. “The food there is great. If we lived in Athena, we’d be eating there a lot. Wanda Nell loved it the two times we ate there together.”

“The bistro it is,” I said. “It probably won’t be crowded now. After the churches let out, there’s often a wait for a table.”

We arrived a few minutes later, and I found a parking spot on the square across from the bistro. I didn’t see Helen Louise when we walked in. With Henry out, she was probably stuck in the kitchen. I hoped Henry had recovered and was back up to speed soon.

Jack and I both opted for a small salad and a serving of Helen Louise’s signature quiche Lorraine. I recommended a favorite wine of Helen Louise’s choosing. We each had one glass, though I could happily have had a second. With driving on the agenda in the immediate future, I had to limit myself to the one.

During the meal Jack and I talked about our strategy for tomorrow. I mentioned that I planned to bring Diesel with me, since he always accompanied me. “He can be an excellent icebreaker,” I said. “People are always curious about him because of his size, and since Elizabeth Barber is a vet tech, he might help us get her to talk.”

“I like that idea,” Jack said. “From what I’ve heard, he’s also a pretty good judge of character.”

“I’ve discovered that when he doesn’t want a person to touch him or won’t go near them, that’s an indicator there’s something off about that person. Interestingly, he seemed fine with Bill Delaney.” I paused for the final sip of my wine. “That’s the one thing that holds me back from utter conviction that he killed the Barbers.”

“That is interesting,” Jack said. “But he’s not one hundred percent infallible, surely.”

“No, he isn’t,” I said. “Every once in a while, he likes someone who turns out not to be a good person, but I like to think he senses something good in them.”

We soon finished our meal, and as always I was tempted by Helen Louise’s rich, delicious cakes and pastries, but Jack declined. His waistline, I noted, was much trimmer than mine, probably due in part to his turning down incredibly fattening desserts.

Helen Louise left the kitchen briefly while I stood at the counter paying the bill—over Jack’s objections, but I insisted. I introduced Jack, and then we had to go. The after-church crowd was arriving in full force, and Helen Louise had to get back to the kitchen.

We drove back to Leann Finch’s house, and this time there was a car, a large dark SUV, in the carport. I parked the car on the street in front of the house, and Jack and I headed up the walk toward the front door. When we were close enough I glanced over at the SUV. I remembered the make and the model of the vehicle that hit Bill Delaney, thanks to Frank. Dr. Finch’s SUV didn’t match.

Jack had his finger on the doorbell but he didn’t press it. “I hope she isn’t in the middle of a meal. If she is, she might be ticked off and refuse to talk to us.”

“There’s nothing we can do about that,” I said. “We’ll have to take our chances and hope that she will be cooperative.”

“Right.” Jack pressed the bell, and we waited.

No more than thirty seconds after Jack rang, the door opened. Leann Finch, dressed in knee-length shorts, a sleeveless blouse, and sandals, appeared not in the least surprised to see us. Perhaps she had spotted us coming up the walk and was prepared for us.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Finch,” I said.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Harris,” she replied. “What can I do for you?”

“We apologize for disturbing you at home on your day off,” I said, “but my friend, Jack Pemberton, and I would like to talk to you about my cousin, Bill Delaney, whom you treated in the ER yesterday.”

Dr. Finch frowned. “I can’t discuss a patient with you without the patient’s permission, Mr. Harris. Besides, he’s in the care of another physician now, who will know more about his status.”

“I should have been clearer,” I said. “We actually want to talk to you about my cousin’s past.”

“The Barber case,” Jack added.

“Why do you want to drag all that up?” Dr. Finch scowled. “It all happened a long time ago, and it’s best forgotten.” She stepped back in order to close the door. “If you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.”

“Wait, Dr. Finch.” I put a hand on the door to keep her from closing it. “The case was never solved. It can’t be forgotten. Four people, two of them children, were murdered in cold blood. They deserve justice, don’t you think?”

Leann Finch glared at me, and I knew she was angry now. I had hoped to avoid getting her riled up, but this might be the only way to get through to her and get her to talk about the events of twenty years ago.

“Come in, then.” Dr. Finch stepped away from the door to let us enter the house. The interior was blessedly cool. I had begun to perspire, standing out on the doorstep with the midday sun blazing down on us.