Chapter 13 #2
“You know I am. But I’m also exhausted. It’s not a good idea to go into a situation that could be dangerous when we’re not at our best.”
He took her point. He was also grappling with the impulse to drive right past Houma and keep going, but he had the feeling they would never be safe if they kept running. And he knew from her churning thoughts that she agreed.
Despite his eagerness to get the search over with, he settled down beside her on the bed.
He’d thought he was too keyed up to sleep, but maybe time travel took a lot of energy.
They were both asleep within minutes and stayed that way for several hours.
And she was right. When he woke up, he was feeling better able to cope with whatever was in Houma.
While Rachel took a shower, he did some more research on Houma.
“What do we know about the place?” Rachel asked when she came out of the bathroom.
“The population is around 33,000. You can book swamp tours and fishing expeditions, eat spicy Cajun food, walk bird trails in the wildlife park.”
“It’s not all that large.”
“But it has a long history and an historic downtown area. The Terrebonne Parish courthouse is located there.”
“No mention of a Solomon Clinic?”
“No.”
“Maybe we should change our appearance before we go there.”
“You mean more than a change of clothing.”
“Yeah. As you pointed out, it’s a small place. I don’t want to be recognized.”
They stopped at a big-box shopping mall where he told her to see if she could find a blond wig. Meanwhile, he bought work boots, a cowboy hat and a denim shirt, which he tore the sleeves off of and wore open down the front.
“Nice,” she murmured when she saw him.
“So are you,” he answered, taking in the wig.
“You like me as a blond?”
She answered her own question. Don’t bother to lie. I’ll get rid of the damn thing as soon as I can.
They both put on sunglasses as they drove away from the shopping center. They stopped for burgers, which they ate as they drove toward the town.
He’d looked at some pictures on the Web, but it was a strange experience driving into Houma.
“Do you recognize anything?” she asked after they’d entered the city limits.
“I’m not sure. Maybe I have some vague memories of coming to a place like this, but it has to have changed over the years.”
The area was bounded by rivers and bayous. They had to cross a bridge to get into town and another soon after. They headed for the downtown area. As they drove past art galleries, tee shirt shops and restaurants, they kept an eye out for the man who had tried to take them captive twice.
Finally they passed the Waterside Restaurant.
“In our . . . vision we came down the street from the Solomon Clinic,” Rachel said. “It was only a few doors away.”
“The restaurant’s still here.” She gestured toward what she thought was the location of the clinic. “But that building doesn’t look like what we saw. Does it to you?”
“No.” He eyed the structure. “It looks like newer construction.”
“They must have torn the place down.”
He made a rough sound. “Maybe they thought it was haunted.”
“Or something.” After a long moment, Rachel cleared her throat.
Before she could speak, Jake said, “You’re right.”
“What are you, a mind reader or something?”
She laughed, and he went on.
“The clinic’s gone, and we’re not going to find out anything unless we start asking some questions.”
“But where should we start?”
“Maybe a casual conversation in a restaurant.”
They stopped at a place called Big Ralph’s where the decor was simple and rustic, and a sign told them to seat themselves.
After they’d claimed a wooden booth in the back, a short, plump woman who looked to be in her fifties came over to take their order. Her name tag identified her as Maddie.
By mutual agreement, Rachel was the one who struck up a conversation. “We’d just like a snack. What do you recommend?”
“The shrimp gumbo is excellent.”
Rachel looked at Jake. “We could each have a bowl.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“And sweetened iced tea.”
After they’d placed their order, Jake sat back and stretched out his legs.
When the waitress brought the tea, he said, “So what do you recommend for someone with a few days in town?”
“Do you like to fish?”
“Uh huh. Do you have nature walks?” Rachel asked.
“Sure do. You can pick up some brochures by the door.”
“What about a bed and breakfast with cottages?”
She thought for a moment. “The Magnolia House would be perfect. It’s very charming. Mrs. Madison runs the place and cooks wonderful breakfasts. Do you want me to call and find out if they have a cottage available?”
“That would be very nice of you, but we don’t want you to go to any trouble.”
“No trouble at all.”
“Then thanks so much,” Rachel answered.
The woman was back with their gumbo and a smile on her face in a few minutes. “Mrs. Madison is holding a cottage for you,” she said as she set down their bowls. She also had a slip of paper with the address and phone number of the B&B.
“We’ll go over as soon as we finish eating,” Jake said.
Rachel set down her spoon. “I’m a history buff. I was looking at the history of the town, and I came across a place called the Solomon Clinic.”
Jake saw the waitress stiffen.
“The Solomon Clinic,” she said slowly. “How did you hear about that?”
“It came up when I was talking to a woman. She said she’d been there as a child.”
“It’s closed,” the waitress said, her voice turning icy.
“I see.”
“It wasn’t one of the scenic attractions in town.”
“What did they do there?”
“I really don’t know.” The waitress turned away abruptly and left the table.
That question certainly got a reaction.
Uh huh.
The place must have had some kind of bad reputation.
We’ll check into the Magnolia House, then ask around some more.
Is that a good idea?
What do you suggest?
Checking old newspapers.
Okay.
As soon as they’d finished their gumbo, the waitress was back with the check. Her smile was gone, and she didn’t have any more conversational gambits.
Jake paid in cash, and they left quickly.
In the car he said, “We’ll use the name on my alternate credit card. Mr. and Mrs. Jack Le Barron.”
“Okay.” She sighed. “What’s my name?”
He thought for a moment. “It should start with the same letter. What about Reagan?”
Jake consulted the address, then stopped at a gas station to ask directions. The Magnolia House bed and breakfast was located outside of town on a wooded tract off the main road.
Fifteen minutes later, they found a sign advertising the establishment and turned in at an access road through stands of oak and cypress trees.
Up ahead was a circular drive in front of a red brick mansion with a portico and white columns out front.
“This really is lovely,” Rachel murmured.
Jake nodded. He didn’t particularly care about the accommodations, but if a nice room made a difference to Rachel, he didn’t mind.
Thanks.
He was still disconcerted to discover that what was intended as a private thought was being picked up by someone else.
She didn’t comment on that as they climbed out of the car and started toward the sign that said “Office.”
Before they reached the door, a woman came hurrying out. She looked to be in her sixties, with short salt and pepper hair, large brown eyes, and a worried expression.
“Did Maddie from Big Ralph’s send you over?”
“Yes,” Rachel answered.
“I’m so sorry, but she was mistaken. I don’t have a cottage to rent–or anything in the main house either.”
Jake stared at her, wishing he had the ability to read more than Rachel’s mind.
Figuring he had nothing to lose, he said, “Are you turning us away because we were interested in the Solomon Clinic?”
She blanched. “We don’t like to talk about that place.”
“Why not?”
“I’d prefer not to continue the topic.”
Before he could say anything else, she turned and hustled back into the office.
They stood staring after her.
“Well, that was . . . something,” Rachel murmured as she stared at the doorway through which Mrs. Madison had disappeared.
He reached for her hand. “I’m sorry. I know you were looking forward to staying somewhere charming.”
“It’s not that important.”
Of course he didn’t believe her. They’d been under a lot of pressure, and she’d wanted to enjoy some of the town ambiance, but neither one of them wanted to continue the discussion.
As they drove away, she made a quick change of subject, “Do you think the clinic was unpopular here? Or is there a conspiracy to protect it?”
“It could be either. Or both.”
“Is there a library in town?”
“I think we passed one.”
“I guess we’d better stop bringing up the subject with residents and just stick with newspaper files.”
“We have no idea what we’re looking for. Or even what year,” Rachel said.
“We know it was in existence when we were here. . .” He stopped and thought about himself and Rachel as they’d been when they’d seen the children. “At least when we were three or four or five. Can you think of any other clues?”
“Could we go back there instead of the library? I mean to the building that’s sitting where the clinic was.”
“Sure.” He turned the car around and headed back to the downtown area, then found the Waterside Restaurant again and pulled a few doors down to where they thought the clinic would have been.
“I’m getting out,” Rachel said.
“Wait a minute. What do you expect to find out?”
“I don’t know, but I have the feeling that I’ll pick up something.”
“Do you need me with you?”
“Let me try it alone. So you don’t have to find a parking space down here.”
He looked around and didn’t see anyone obviously watching them, but what if that Smithson guy had come to town and was waiting for them at this spot? The thought made his stomach knot.
I don’t think he’s here, she reassured him as she headed for the building that stood on the old clinic site. After looking up and down the street again, she reached to press her palm against the brick exterior.
For long moments, her expression didn’t change. Then she closed her eyes.
And he heard her gasp.