Part 25 (2/2)
”It's Amanda Caulden, Mr. Eiler. I want to see Reva,” Amanda yelled back. ”If she's here,” she said under her breath.
”She's asleep,” Mr. Eiler yelled.
”With whom?” Amanda muttered. ”I really do need to see her,” she yelled through the door.
A hand angrily tore the newspaper from the broken pane of gla.s.s. The rest of the window was so dirty it may as well not have been gla.s.s. Reva's face appeared at the window. ”I am here, Miss Know-It-All Caulden,” Reva said, ”and I'm alone in my bed, not that it's any of your business. What brings you to this part of town? Need somebody to clean your toilet?”
”Where is Hank?” Amanda asked.
”Not with me.”
Amanda glared at her. ”Then when did he leave? I a.s.sume it was his visit that has exhausted you into an early retirement.”
”It happens to be nearly ten o'clock. Some of us have to get up and go to work in the morning. Not all of us can be princesses like-”
”Just a minute!” Grace said, stepping forward. ”Before you two young ladies”-she emphasized the word-”start pulling hair, I think we should find out what we came here to find out. Reva, Dr. Montgomery seems to have disappeared, and we were told he might be with another woman and we a.s.sumed it was you.”
”He hasn't been here. He's been out at the fields all day. I saw him for a few minutes yesterday and he was pretty upset. He said it was awful out there and for me to stay away.”
”Do you have any idea where he could be?” Grace asked.
”Maybe he went back to his hotel and went to bed. Or maybe he went to the Union Hall, Or maybe he went to the diner for something to eat. Or maybe-”
”You have to help us look,” Amanda said. ”I think something has happened to him.” Now that she knew he wasn't with Reva, she was beginning to calm down. Whitey had lied to her, but why? Was he, perhaps, lying merely because she was a Caulden? Or was there another reason?
”He's all right,” Reva said. ”Hank can take care of himself. Besides, it's late and I need my sleep.”
”You either come voluntarily or I'll drag you out,” Amanda said.
”Really, Amanda,” Grace said. ”I'm sure Reva's right and Dr. Montgomery is fine. Perhaps we should-”
”I get Taylor,” Reva said, as if he were a piece of merchandise.
”Done,” Amanda answered in the voice of an auctioneer saying, ”Sold to the woman in the dirty nightgown.”
”Give me five minutes to get dressed.”
”Forget the lipstick and you'll save three minutes,” Amanda said with a sweet smile.
Grace looked away to hide her smile.
In four minutes Reva was dressed and outside. Amanda wasted no more time on catty remarks but issued orders like a general-or like her father. Neither Reva nor Grace considered contradicting her. Amanda a.s.signed them places to check and gave them less than an hour. They were going to have to search nearly all of Kingman at a run.
An hour later they met in front of the Kingman Arms.
”No sign of him,” Reva said. She too was concerned now. ”No one has seen him all day. He hasn't been back to the hotel. Joe's at the Union Hall and he hasn't seen Hank.”
Grace had had no luck either.
”If we could only find his car,” Amanda said. Her heart seemed to have jumped into her throat. Terror was what she felt, sheer debilitating terror. He would never leave the fields and the unionists unless something had... happened. She didn't like to imagine what could have happened. There was too much talk of bloodshed and violence. ”He would never leave that car of his,” she whispered. ”If we could just-”
”But his car is back at the fields,” Grace said.
Amanda and Reva turned to look at her.
”I tripped once and saw something yellow in the hop fields. It was almost hidden under the vines, but I knew what it was. There's nothing else quite the color of Dr. Montgomery's little automobile.”
”They've done something with him,” Amanda said softly, and she knew it was true. ”They want their violence, and Hank meant to stop them. They have removed him.”
”Removed him?” Grace asked. ”What in the world do you mean?”
Reva took a step backward. ”You know, it's awfully late and I'm real tired. I think I better go home and get to bed. I have to go to work in a few hours. Amanda, after the hops are in, let's have lunch.”
Amanda grabbed Reva's arm. ”You're going to the ranch with us. We're going to find that Whitey Graham-I know he's behind this-and make him tell us where Hank is.” She swallowed. ”If we're not too late. Reva, does your father have a gun we can borrow? I don't think a man like Whitey will listen to three women saying please.”
”A g-gun?” Reva asked.
”A pistol, maybe. Better yet, a shotgun. Two big round barrels should get his attention.”
Reva moved away. ”Then again, Amanda, you can have Taylor. You can have both men. I think I better get home now, so goodnight, Mrs. Caulden. Goodnight, Amanda.”
Amanda caught Reva before she'd gone ten steps and put her arm firmly through Reva's. ”Don't turn coward on me now. We have to find Hank. Maybe he can prevent the war that's about to erupt at our ranch, but, more important, Hank might be hurt.”
”Not to mention us being hurt,” Reva muttered.
”Sometimes, Reva, a person has to do things one doesn't want to do. Isn't that right, Mother? Mother?”
The two young women turned back to see Grace Caulden still standing in front of the Kingman Arms. Her oval face was as pale as the moon.
”Reva, does your father have any w-whiskey?” she whispered hoa.r.s.ely.
”I can guarantee he has whiskey,” Reva said, and fear sounded in her voice.
”Come on, we're wasting time,” Amanda said. ”We have to find Hank.” She walked off into the night, the two women following her hesitantly.
Chapter Eighteen.
”Are you sure you know how to drive this?” Reva asked. ”Or even start it?” Her voice was very quiet and there was a quality in it that could only be cla.s.sified as respect. Yesterday she would have said that proper, always-use-the-correct-fork Miss Amanda Caulden wasn't capable of any of the things she had done in the last two hours.
The three women had ”borrowed” a double-barreled twelve-gauge shotgun from Mr. Eiler (he had drunkenly snored through the entire event and only turned over when Grace took his half-empty whiskey bottle from the crook of his arm). Then Amanda had got them a ride in the back of a smelly old pickup to the Caulden Ranch.
In the back of the pickup, over the rattling and jostling, a pale-faced Grace had taken her daughter's hand. ”If I don't get out of this alive, dear, I have a confession to make. I am the Countess de la Glace.”
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