Chapter 14 #2
“Yes, I’m going for five thousand steps a day.
Gertrude Vanderzand told me she does seven thousand and she’s seen a huge improvement in her health.
She’s even lost some weight. She came to visit me after I fell and showed me a website where I could join this virtual walking group.
It came with this handy watch that keeps track of everything for me, so I signed up. ”
Oh dear.
Gertrude Vanderzand is late fifties, maybe sixties, but definitely far from her eighties, and in good physical shape.
The last I heard she was making money doing chair yoga videos for her YouTube channel.
Before that, it had been selling nutritional supplements, and I believe she even tried her hand at teaching Zumba classes in the church basement at some point.
She’s one of Silence’s more colorful individuals and always seems to find ways to capitalize on the latest fitness craze.
“I guess there’s nothing wrong with a little extra exercise,” I start cautiously. “But maybe five thousand steps is a little excessive to start with? Have you talked to Doc Wilson about this?”
She shrugs her hunched shoulders. “No need, they have medical professionals virtually monitoring. Isn’t technology amazing? Besides, since Doc Wilson took his partial retirement it’s almost impossible to get in for an appointment.”
Unfortunately, that’s true. I know my friend Dana, the clinic’s nurse practitioner, is constantly swamped.
We have a dire shortage of primary care physicians here.
That’s why Doc’s retirement is only partial until we can find someone to take his place, but it hasn’t been easy to draw fresh blood to Silence.
“Anyway, enough about me,” she declares. “How come you’re sitting here at the curb?”
“I’m actually looking for Jeff Sanchuk,” I explain casually. “But I guess he’s not home.”
“Coho are spawning. He’s got a fishing shack up river. I’m guessing that’s where he went.”
I should’ve thought of that, I knew he was an avid fisherman.
“Any idea where up river?”
Up river is north of town, generally speaking, but that in itself is an obscure description, since there are about seventy miles of mostly unpopulated wilderness between us and the Canadian border. He could be anywhere.
“I wouldn’t know. Can’t be that far, he’s never gone for longer than one or two days at a time.”
I know someone who might have an idea.
“Gotcha.” I smile at the woman. “Now, can I give you a ride back home?”
She checks her Fitbit. “Thanks, but I’ll walk. I’ve got a few more steps to go.”
I put a hand on her shoulder.
“Okay, but I’m going to follow you home. It’s dark and I don’t want you out here by yourself,” I persist when she starts shaking her head. “I can’t stop you from doing what you want, but it’s my responsibility to make sure you, along with everyone else in Edwards County is safe.”
And I’ve been doing a piss-poor job of it lately.
As I’m slowly rolling along, following Mrs. Dixon home, I dial my father’s number.
“Savvy, we were just talking about you,” Phil announces when she answers the phone.
“My ears must’ve been burning.”
“Ha. No, here’s the thing; your dad and I thought—” She’s cut off when I hear my father’s rumbling protest in the background.
“Your father is being a stick in the mud,” she shares.
“Fine. I thought it might be fun to throw an end-of-summer cookout with a bonfire next Friday night to kick off the Harvest Fest for a few friends and family. You can make it, right?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. Great. Something else to add to my already full dance card.
“And feel free to invite a friend,” she adds, not at all subtly.
I stifle a groan and distractedly wave back at Mrs. Dixon, who is turning onto the path to her front door.
“All I can promise is that I’ll try to be there,” I tell my stepmother, watching to make sure Mrs. Dixon makes it safely inside her little house.
“Of course. That’s all I can ask. I know you have your hands full, but I thought it might make for a nice distraction.”
“Absolutely,” I agree with her because it’s the fastest way to get to my reason for calling. “And I promise I’ll let you know, but before I go, could I talk to Dad for a second?”
“Yeah, he’s right here. Talk to you later.”
I hear some rustling as the phone changes hands, and then my father’s voice is on the other side.
“Don’t feel pressured, Toots.”
I chuckle. “It’s okay. It sounds like fun.”
He grunts, clearly of a different mind.
I don’t enjoy bringing up the man who has caused some tension between my father and me lately, but I’ve wasted enough time already.
“Reason I’m calling, though, is Sanchuk. I need to find him and I was told he’s probably up river at his fishing shack. You wouldn’t happen to know where that is, would you?”
“What do you want with Sanchuk now? Just leave him be, Savvy.”
My dad is a gruff guy, he wasn’t born with a lot of tact, or the ability to read the room. Normally, I can handle that, but today—after seeing Nate helpless in a hospital bed, with his head and face bloodied—Dad’s knee-jerk comment goes down the wrong way.
“You’re kidding me, right? Leave him be? For your information, Nate Gaines is in the hospital in serious condition, hooked up to monitors, and you want me to leave Sanchuk be?”
For a moment it’s quiet on the other side, and when he speaks, my father’s voice is cautious.
“You think it was Sanchuk?”
“Dad, did you know he’s the one who chased Nathan out of town years ago?
Threatened to frame him for something he didn’t do.
That’s why Nate disappeared. Do you know what he said when he was assaulting Nate in the kitchen at the station?
He called him a fucking idiot for showing his face back in Silence. ”
“I see. Gaines told you that?”
“No, I heard him say it myself as I walked into the kitchen. But Nate told me later what that was all about. He told me everything.”
“He told you Sanchuk threatened him?”
I take a deep breath to calm my flaring temper. I should know by now people are rarely inclined to listen to someone yelling.
“Yes. And after he attacked him in his garage, he told Nate he should’ve stayed away. Now, do you know where Sanchuk’s fishing shack is? I need to have a word with the man.”
There’s a brief pause before I get an answer.
“It’s about ten miles north. Take Pinegrove up, past the turnoff to the Mountain View Lodge, and continue a couple more miles until you see a red-painted rock marking a small dirt road on the left side. Follow that to the end. You may have to walk in the last bit.”
It’s clear my father has been there before, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.
“Okay. Thanks.”
I’m about to hang up when he adds.
“Savvy, wait. I don’t think you should go there alone.”