“Twelve are considered MIAs or POWs. Not all of them died in the war, Sam,” Frank clarified. “After all, most of the men would be close to seventy by now.” He pointed to a section of the depositions. “There was one deposition they weren’t able to obtain — a house boy by the name of Ling Toy. The base commander was pretty fond of him. He went out with Hap’s unit but never returned.”
“Do we have a picture of him you can give to Elvis?” Sam asked.
Frank shook his head no. “Maybe Elvis can put some feelers out.”
Jake scribbled a note to Elvis and placed it in the envelope with Hap’s pictures.
Sam fanned the sheets of paper. “How did you get this information so quickly?”
“Some of us start at the crack of dawn,” Jake remarked.
“I was working at home, if you don’t mind,” Sam snapped back.
“On what?”
Sam handed them copies of newspaper articles on Preston Hilliard. “The top article is the one I found most interesting. It seems Preston served in Korea. Even earned himself some medals,” Sam said.
“Mushima Valley?” Jake looked up from the page. “Isn’t that where
…”
“Yes. That’s where Hap Wilson was last seen. Preston and some of his men supposedly risked life and limb to carry injured soldiers out of the valley. The injured were members of Task Force Kelly from the Fifth Regimental Combat Team.”
Sam let them read the articles while she read the report Frank had given her.
“Eight men were rescued, four died on the ride back to base,” Frank read from the first article. “I guess I have four more veterans to contact.”
“Wait a minute.” Jake pointed at the byline. “Samuel Casey?”
“My father was an investigative reporter. He followed Preston’s campaign,” Sam replied.
“From the sound of the articles, he wasn’t too fond of our esteemed state rep,” Frank pointed out.
Glancing over the top of his copies, Jake said, “It seems his daughter inherited his distaste for politicians.”
Frank thumbed through the copies of the articles. “What happened? There aren’t any more articles by your father?”
“He died,” Sam replied simply. “Car accident.”
There was a brief silence until the phone rang. It was Tim Miesner, the teen computer geek. He might have a way to make the device she had requested. She was smiling when she hung up.
“Good joke?” Jake asked.
“Just admiring talent.” As she spoke she drew shapes of lightning bolts on her pad of paper. She had to see Preston’s pin again. Posing as a reporter, she had called Juanita earlier and learned that Preston would be gone most of the night on Friday. So Sam knew Friday would have to be the night.
Chapter 23
The rocks had been on the fire for most of the day. Alex carefully carried them inside the square structure and set them in a pile on the ground. The sweat lodge was situated between Alex’s house and the tipi. The ground was bare except for the blankets they sat on.
“We are ready,” Alex announced.
Once he pulled the tarp down the entire lodge was sealed off. Alex proceeded to pour water onto the hot stones. Steam filled the air.
Abby sat on her blanket across the hot stones from Alex. Her long hair was pulled around to the front, gathered in two thick ponytails adorned with beads and feathers. They hung strategically over her naked torso, concealing her firm breasts. Her thin skirt was hiked up to her thighs exposing muscular legs.
Alex wore a traditional breechcloth, his bare chest exhibiting a sprinkling of gray hair. The glow from the rocks provided the only light.
“Do you have the cannunpa wakan?” Abby asked, referring to the sacred pipe.
“ Hau,” Alex responded. “Where is the medicine bundle?”
Abby touched the unwrapped bundle next to her. She lifted up a small glass jar and passed it to Alex. He stared at the contents and grumbled.
“I know you are not enthused about this,” Abby said.
“The purpose of a sweat lodge is to pray for the sick, to communicate with the spirits in helping someone in need. Not for this. You are trying to control fate.”
“Fate has already been determined. I’m just trying to hurry it along. This is necessary for Samantha’s mental and emotional health. We are to pray for our loved ones and that is what I am doing. I call this laying the foundation for Sam’s future.”
Alex moved around uncomfortably. “I call this sweating my ass off.”
“Shhh,” Abby whispered. “You will anger the spirits.”
“YOU will anger the spirits, foolish woman. Using the spirits to play Cupid.”
“Go, then. I will pray on my own. I do not need a nonbeliever in my midst.”
Abby took her rattles and bags of tobacco from the bundle.
“You would probably mess things up; it’s been too long.” Alex tossed more water onto the rocks. Sweat trickled down his chest as he unscrewed the bottle cap. Abby handed him a lock of Sam’s hair. He carefully dropped it into the bottle where it lay haphazardly among the hair clippings Abby had saved when she cut Jake’s hair.
They worked silently. Alex tied the bundles of tobacco to the sticks that surrounded the fire. Abby drew a circle in the dirt and placed the glass jar and a handful of medicine beads in the center. Alex picked up the horned rattle and shook it as he sang, “ Ah Hey Yah.” Abby lit the pipe, and after pointing it to the four directions beginning with the east, she took a puff and passed it to Alex.
Sam checked the clock on the stove. Seven-thirty at night. The house was uncomfortably quiet. It shouldn’t have bothered her, but for some reason the silence was deafening. She opened the refrigerator and studied the contents.
Her uneasiness had a lot to do with Benny’s call. He had apologized for not calling her earlier but had wanted to wait until his visitor left — a forensics expert with the Bureau. She assumed a soldier missing since the Korean War was probably going to attract the Pentagon. But the Bureau?
The cold from the refrigerator was chilling her legs, but she wasn’t even looking at the chicken or potato salad. Instead, her mind was wandering, thinking back to Hap, a line drawn from him to… where? To Preston for one. And to many others whose faces were blank right now. Her father’s byline kept creeping into the picture. And the lightning bolt shapes. Lightning strike. The words again echoed in her head.
The doorbell interrupted her thinking. She was surprised to see Frank and Jake. Frank carried a briefcase, Jake an accordion file folder.
“I’ll just set it all down here.” Frank laid his briefcase on the dining room table and snapped it open.
Sam removed the grapevine tree trunk arrangement from the center of the table. She heard the refrigerator being opened and walked into the kitchen to find Jake setting out plates and silverware. He knew exactly where everything was which made her wonder just how many visits he had made here to see Abby.
“Let’s see, chicken, potato salad, kidney bean salad.” He looked up at her. “Anything else you’d like to eat?”
She surveyed the buffet he had spread on the island counter. “Fruit salad.”
Jake opened the refrigerator again and located the fruit salad. Sam brought out a pitcher of iced tea.
“Benny called,” Sam announced. “Seems the FBI has sent a forensics expert from their Chicago office to examine Hap’s body.”
“That’s not unusual,” Jake said.
Frank loaded his plate and followed his colleagues into the dining room. “The guy was AWOL. I guess someone in Washington would be interested.” He found an empty spot between the papers strewn around the
