The town boasted an active tourism industry. Mostly hunters, fishermen, and folks who wanted a cabin to get away from the big city. Rentals were plentiful, suggesting most were second homes.
It had one hospital. Their destination.
Cain rolled to a stop at The Crossroads and turned right toward town. Highway 57, now Main Street, bisected the compact business district—ten blocks or eight traffic signals long, depending on how you wanted to count it, and two blocks wide. Residential neighborhoods wrapped the commercial area. At the east end they found Tanner Medical Center, across from a tree-studded park.
Cain slid The Rig into a parking slot outside the ER entrance and they entered through sliding glass doors. Quiet inside. Understandable at this hour, around five a.m. A nurse sat behind a counter and looked up as they walked toward her.
“What can I do for you?” she asked.
“I’m Bobby Cain. This is Harper McCoy.”
“Mona Faulk. I’m the charge nurse tonight.” She eyed them. “What’s the problem?”
“None,” Harper said. “Not a medical one anyway.”
“We’re here about Dr. Buckner.”
Mona’s head jerked up. Confusion erupted on her face. “Did you find him?”
“No. But that’s why we’re here.”
Her confusion deepened. “I don’t understand. Who are you?”
“We’re private investigators,” Harper said. “From Nashville. We were retained by his father. We understand he was kidnapped. Or something like that.”
She stood. “Have you talked with Chief Crowe?”
“Not yet,” Cain said. “We just drove in. This is our first stop.”
“From Nashville?”
Cain explained the two a.m. call, them hitting the road, driving straight through.
Mona seemed to digest that. “Let me get this straight. His father called you three hours ago, and now you’re here?”
“Time is critical,” Harper said.
“Tell us what happened,” Cain said.
“I’m not exactly sure. We got the story from Marla Jackson. She’s one of our local druggies. She was here earlier. Dr. Buck—that’s what we call him—took care of her. I think it was an infected injection site. Anyway, she went over to the park and shot up. A lot of kids around here use the park for that. It also seems to be the spot for dealing. She apparently saw two guys with guns put Buck in their vehicle and drive away.”
“Any idea who?” Harper asked.
Mona shook her head. “The chief and her guys have been looking for them.”
“What kind of vehicle?”
“Marla said it was a big black SUV, but she didn’t know the model.” She massaged her neck. “Look, Marla’s a headcase. Hell, it could’ve been a red sports car and I’m not sure she would’ve known the difference.”
Cain nodded.
“I better call the chief,” Mona said.
“Probably a good idea,” Cain said.
CHAPTER 16
Mona grabbed a pair of coffees from the break room for Cain and Harper. Black, strong, bordering on bitter. Like most hospital coffee in Cain’s experience. But it was hot and had caffeine so it did the trick.
Mona had called Chief Crowe and after she hung up had said, “She’s on the way.”
“Tell us about Dr. Buckner,” Harper said.
“Buck? He’s been here less than a week but he’s good people. A good doc. The patients love him.”
“So he fits in around here?” Harper asked.
“More than that.” She gave a quick glance over her shoulder, then leaned forward slightly. “All the doctors we have here are good. We’re lucky there. But Buck is something else again. Really good with trauma. Cuts and scrapes and contusions, broken bones, stuff like that. He did two years of a surgical residency before turning to ER work. Good with his hands.”
“That’s what we heard,” Cain said. “From his father.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t think his father was pleased with him splitting from that program. I talked with Buck about it once. Just a couple of days ago. How he ended up here in our little slice of paradise.” She smiled. “He said that the plan was for him to be a surgeon and return to the big medical group his dad had created. He decided he’d rather see the world and do the ER thing.” A quick head nod. “We’re sure glad he did.”
“I take it he had the day shift and was heading home when this happened?” Harper asked.
“Yep.”
“Where does he live?”
“The hospital got him an apartment. It’s not far. Maybe three or four blocks.”
The automatic entry doors slid open. Chief Cassie Crowe entered. She looked just like her photo. Now that Cain could see all of her, she was fairly tall, maybe five-ten, lean and fit, with long legs. She wore jeans and a Navy blue shirt and jacket, the PD logo on the left chest. Service weapon on her right hip. She walked toward them with confident strides.
“You the ones looking for Dr. Buckner?” she asked.
Cain and Harper introduced themselves. Handshakes followed, Chief Crowe saying they should call her Cassie since everyone else did. Cain explained they had been hired by Buck’s father and that they had left Nashville around two and had just gotten into town.
“Three hours ago you were in Nashville?” Cassie asked.
“We were.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Like we told Mona,” Harper said. “Time is critical in these cases.”
“I see.” Cassie examined each of them, sizing them up for sure. “I take it you know Dr. Buckner’s father?”
“No. A friend of a friend.”
She nodded. “When I spoke with him, he didn’t mention calling in anyone else.”
“He probably didn’t know then,” Harper said. “Needed to process things, I suspect.”
“And after he did, he called you?”
“He did.”
“What exactly do you do?” Cassie asked.
“Solve problems,” Cain said.
“That’s pretty vague.”
Cain smiled. “So is our job description. Each job is different.”
Cassie sighed. “Why do I get the impression that you might get in the way here?”
“We won’t,” Cain said.
“We’re here to help,” Harper said. “Find Buck Buckner. Find whoever
