Little Girl Gone

Harp touched the bandage on the side of his head. “Going to tell everyone I was in a bar fight. The chicks will dig it.”

That just made Logan want to eat faster.

As he neared the end of his second—and last—slice, his dad said, “Logan, we…uh…want to talk to you about Tooney.”

Damn. So close.

Logan leaned forward. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to say anything. If you guys want to lie to the sheriff, then have at it.”

His father’s face scrunched up, his brows dipping so low his eyes became slits. “What are you talking about? Of course you’re not going to say anything. You already promised us that. That’s not what I meant.”

That wasn’t the response Logan was expecting. “Okay, what then?”

Harp looked around the table at the other men, then turned so that he was fully facing his son. “Tooney needs help.” He paused. “And I, well…we thought maybe it was something that you could, you know, do for him.”

 “If he’s in trouble, he should call the sheriff. That’s their job, Dad.”  Logan looked around the table. Along with Barney the retired doctor and Jerry the retired accountant, there was also Alan the retired teacher, and Will the retired scientist. “What in God’s name has gotten into you guys? You’re acting like this is some kind of game. If your friend has a problem, then he needs to get help. And if he won’t do it, you need to do it for him.”

“What do you think we’re trying to do?” Harp asked. “We’re asking you.”

“I don’t mean me. I mean from someone official. Like, you know, the sheriff’s department?”

“If we do that,” Barney said almost in a whisper, “they’ll kill her.”

“What?” Logan was sure he’d misheard him.

“Are you sure you don’t want that beer?” his father asked.

“No, Dad. I don’t want a beer. I want to know what the hell you guys are talking about.”

“Whoa. Calm down. No need to get all up—”

Suddenly a tired voice called out from behind them. “I…I could use a little help.”

5

Logan turned.

Tooney was standing at the end of the short hallway that led back to the master bedroom, leaning against the wall for support.

Harp and Jerry were the first out of their chairs, but Logan was the first to reach him.

“Shouldn’t you be lying down?” Logan asked as he put his arm around Tooney, allowing the older man to lean against him.

“I lay down long enough already. Besides, I’m hungry.”

“We can bring you some pizza to the bedroom,” Logan suggested, then tried to turn Tooney around, but the older man showed surprising strength for a guy in his condition, and didn’t budge.

“I want to eat in here.”

“Bring him over to the table,” Harp said.

Logan wasn’t so sure that was a good idea, but it seemed to be what Tooney wanted, so he carefully led him over, and helped him into a chair. As soon as Tooney was settled, Barney had him open his eyes wide, asked him a few questions, then declared him healthy enough to eat. Sometimes it paid to have a doctor around, Logan thought, even a retired one who was apparently okay with lying to the authorities.

“Any news?” Harp asked.

The rest of the men stopped what they were doing, interested in the answer. But Tooney shook his head. “Tried five times. Same as before.”

Logan felt the tension level in the room rise a notch. “Somebody want to tell me what’s going on?”

There were shared looks, then Harp leaned toward Tooney. “I think we should do what we talked about. Logan can be discrete.”

Tooney sighed, then nodded. “Okay. I don’t know what else to do.”

 Logan prepared himself to once again direct Tooney to the Sheriff’s department. He was so expecting to hear something like, “please find out more about the guy who attacked me this morning,” that he only partially heard what Tooney really said.

“What?” he asked, his focus returning to the here-and-now. “Say that again.”

“I want you to find my granddaughter.”

Logan took a second to let his mind adjust. “Your granddaughter’s missing?”

“I don’t know. I think so, yes.”

“You think so. Look, I hate to sound like a broken record, but if she’s missing, you should call the police.”