“Did you go in search of her?” Delores asked.
“Yes, ma’am. Wasted no time. There’s not much to downtown. We covered every bit of it. Twice. All the businesses are closed. No place for her to go. She was just…gone.”
“How could she have disappeared, in that short span of time, on foot?”
“I can’t explain it, sir.”
No one said anything for a time, then Richard said, “Well? That’s it? ‘We lost her.’”
“I had an idea,” Goliad said.
“Praise be,” Delores said.
Goliad continued. “The last place she was before going to the café was the ER. We went back to check it out. I left Timmy in the car and went inside. Nobody was there except a woman with a bleeding finger wrapped in a dish towel, and the admitting nurse. I told her I was looking for Dr. O’Neal and described her. She said she’d seen her talking to White’s wife. And the pilot.”
Delores and Richard looked at each other. She raised a brow. “That sounds cozy.”
“That’s what I thought,” Goliad said. “So I chatted up this lady some more. Turns out Mrs. White lent the pilot her car so he could drive out to the crash site.”
“Do you think he and Dr. O’Neal rendezvoused outside the café?”
“Didn’t see him. This might be nothing.”
“But it could be something,” Delores insisted.
“Could be. The pilot left the sheriff’s office on foot, but he’s got wheels now. The doctor doesn’t. Only thing is, all we have to go on is that the car he borrowed is ‘blue.’”
“What’s the airfield guy’s first name?” Delores reached for a pad and paper.
“Brady. Brady White.”
She wrote it down. “I’ll get people checking on cars registered to that name. What county?”
Goliad told her.
“It shouldn’t take long,” Delores said. “I’ll text you the license plate as soon as I have it.”
“We’ll start by going to the crash site,” Goliad said. “But, like I said, this might be nothing.”
Richard warned, “I don’t want to hear any more buts, Goliad. Or any other kind of excuse.”
“No, sir.”
“And keep a leash on that Timmy. What the fuck was he doing with a laser?”
“He won’t be using it again, sir. A creek runs through town. The laser’s at the bottom of it.”
“Call us with better news next time.” Delores disconnected, then scooted off the bed, taking the phone with her. “We need that license plate number ASAP. I’ll rouse someone on staff, make up a reason that’ll convey urgency, but not panic.” She was already rapidly punching in a phone number.
Despite the gravity of the situation, Richard chuckled. “I love to see a take-charge woman in action.”
She blew him a kiss. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.” Then, into the phone, “This is Mrs. Hunt. The senator requires some information. Immediately.”
She gave the order with the confidence of someone who knew it would be acted on without delay. She disconnected and instantly began tapping in another number.
“I hope you’re calling Nate Lambert,” Richard said.
“He was awfully cavalier an hour ago,” Delores said. “I have some hard questions for him. Starting with if he knows where the hell his colleague is.”