Part 4 (1/2)

”The trooper didn't know. Said he's miles from there and couldn't check on him himself. What information he had amounts to hearsay, more or less, just that the man might be a private cop and he'd been injured somewhere out back of nowhere.”

”If the man's a private cop, then it has to be Mr. Pickens. How many of them can there be? But you'd think somebody would get in touch with us. Maybe we ought to go up there, Coleman, and find out what's going on.”

”Yeah, I'm thinking that way, too. I'd go today if I could get away, but we're swamped. On the other hand, it'd be foolish to go flying off without knowing who we'd find. It could be a complete stranger.”

”I guess,” I said, fighting the urge to grab Hazel Marie and fly off to keep a vigil by a bedside. Well, not fly, exactly, but drive real fast.

”I'm still working on it, so let's wait till we know more. Oh, and I do have the hospital's number. You want to take it down?”

I certainly did, and did so. ”Should I call or will you? Or should we go ahead and tell Hazel Marie and let her call?”

”Well, here's the thing, Miss Julia. I've already called, and even with telling them I'm a sheriff's deputy, they said they couldn't give out any information. It would have to come through their sheriff's office.”

”Well, let's call that office.”

”Yeah, well, I did, and got the runaround there, too. Told me that only the sheriff could discuss that, and the sheriff wasn't in. It's the d.a.m.ndest thing I've ever run into. Oh, sorry 'bout that.”

”Don't apologize. I feel the same way.” I let a few moments elapse, wondering what to do next. Then I said, ”I guess we better tell Hazel Marie, don't you?”

”Yeah, maybe so, now that it's probably him who's in trouble. Injured, and who knows what else.” Coleman stopped, seemingly to adjust his thinking. ”Except we're still not positive it's J.D. It could be some other private eye.”

”What do you think, Coleman? You think it's him?”

”Yeah, I do. Too many things fit together. Anyway, the trooper will try to get over that way later today. Apparently, they're few and far between in that part of the state and he has a huge area to patrol. He has my cell number and he'll call if he learns any more.”

”All right. I'll get dressed and go on over to Hazel Marie's, because I'm like you, Coleman, I think it's him, too. Let us know as soon as you hear anything.”

I stood staring at the long-distance number that I'd jotted down on a sc.r.a.p of paper. Coleman had already called it and gotten nothing for his trouble. How was it that a hospital would refuse to give out information to a qualified, certified and official law officer? If a police officer or sheriff's deputy asked me a question, I'd answer it without another thought. But then, there were those new privacy laws, and maybe that was the reason the hospital had turned Coleman down. After all, anybody and his brother could say they were law officers over a telephone, and the hospital would have no way of checking the claim.

But maybe, maybe they'd tell me something.

I thought of getting dressed first-you know, to give myself a little confidence. It's hard to be firm and persistent when you're in a cotton batiste nightgown with your bare feet dangling off the side of a bed.

I couldn't wait. I dialed the number slowly and carefully, waited for an answer and heard a woman's tw.a.n.gy voice say, ”Crayton County Hospital. How may I direct your call?”

”I'd like to speak to whoever is attending Mr. J. D. Pickens, please.”

”Who?”

I repeated myself, then added, ”He's a patient there, and I'll speak to anyone working on whatever floor he's on.”

”Honey,” the operator said, ”there ain't but two floors, and everybody's busy.”

”Well, could you just ring his room?”

”I could. If there was a phone in it. None of the rooms have 'em.”

Getting a little exasperated, I said, ”I just want a little information on his condition. How is he doing? And what's wrong with him anyway? We're all worried about him.”

”I'm sorry, honey, but I got a note here saying no information to anybody about anybody. Hold on a minute. I got another call coming in.”

She put me on hold while I wondered whether it was her way of getting rid of me. Still, she'd stayed on the line longer than the operator at our hospital would have. So I waited.

She came back on. ”You still there?”

”Yes, I'm here. Will you just tell me one thing-is Mr. Pickens a patient there? His wife is most concerned because n.o.body will tell us anything. And they have little twin babies who're crying for their daddy and it's all so pitiful.”

”Well,” she said, ”I guess it's all right to say that I got no Pickens on my list. But somebody's a patient here, but he's down as a John Doe. First time we ever had one of them, but whether he's who you're looking for or not, I don't know.”

”John Doe?” I couldn't believe it. How could they not know who he was? Or was it him? I didn't know what to ask next. ”Well, could you tell me how Mr. Doe is doing and what's wrong with him?”

”We can't give out that information to just anybody,” the operator said, somewhat sorrowfully. I had begun to hear a little sympathy in her voice. ”Would you happen to be a member of Mr. Doe's family?”

”Oh, yes,” I said, chagrined that I hadn't made that clear in the first place. ”I'm his ... ah, mother?”

”Well, in that case, I guess I can tell you that he's doin' as well as can be expected with a gunshot wound.”

”What! You mean he's been shot? Where? How bad is it?”

”That's all it says here and, uh-oh, I didn't see this. Says here anybody askin' is supposed to contact the sheriff. Honey, I wish I could help, but that's all I can tell you. And here comes another call, I gotta go.”

I sagged against the head of the bed. Mr. Pickens shot? No wonder he didn't sound like himself when he called me. No wonder he'd wanted Sam or Coleman, or both. The man needed help.

Standing up, I dialed Coleman's cell phone and caught him as he was leaving home to go on duty. I told him what I'd learned and that I was going to Hazel Marie's right away.

”Can you meet us there, Coleman?” I asked. ”I think your being there will give her some rea.s.surance. We can decide on our next step.”

”I've got to go to roll call, then I'll come over.”

Lord, I thought as I began dressing, Hazel Marie will climb the walls. She was already worried enough, a condition plain to see the night before. However much the babies and Latisha held our attention during and after supper, the unsaid concern had been present in her eyes.

Hearing Lillian come in downstairs, I quickly dressed, although my shaking hands fumbled with the b.u.t.tons and I almost walked out in my bedroom slippers.

”What you doin' up so early?” Lillian asked before I could speak.

”Problems, Lillian.” Then, seeing Latisha coloring in a Princess Coloring Book at the table, I said, ”Good morning, Latisha. Would you like to go into the living room and do your coloring on the coffee table?”

”No, ma'am,” she said, pressing down with an orange crayon. ”I'm fine right here where Great-Granny can make me some breakfast.”

”Oh, well, all right. Lillian, let me show you something in the dining room.”

I walked out with Lillian behind me, then I turned and said, ”Mr. Pickens is in a hospital somewhere in West Virginia, except they're calling him John Doe, so we don't know if it's him or not. But I think it is, because the highway patrolman told Coleman a private investigator was in that hospital. So how many of those could there be? Anyway, Lillian,” I said, my voice catching in my throat as I clasped her arm, ”anyway, I talked to the operator and she let it slip that Mr. Doe, who just has to be Mr. Pickens, is in the hospital with a gunshot wound.”

”Oh, Law,” Lillian said, her hand going to her throat. ”What we gonna do?”

”First thing is to go over and tell Hazel Marie. I want you to go with me because we can't keep this from her any longer. Lloyd spent the night with her, so he'll be there. He and Latisha can entertain the babies while we talk it over and decide what to do.”