A Town Called Evening (Episode II)
The Girl’s Gone Missing: Luke follows up on Grace Kirkwood's last pinged location
Previously on A Town Called Evening…
Luke could not remain still after the Kirkwoods left.
Coffee untouched, he returned to his place behind his desk and picked up the phone. He hesitated, staring at the keypad. Who should he call first? His eyes found their way to the missing poster once again.
Grace Kirkwood is an artistic type who kept to herself. But did that mean secretive? thought Luke. Did she have a strict father, an overbearing mother?
But these explanations were pieces that Luke conjured up without evidence. First thing, he needed to find this Vincent Adder.
Luke replaced the phone on its receiver and reached into his desk. He brushed aside a novel and pulled out a map, a notepad, and a pen. After jotting down all the counties in the area, Luke dialled the nearest town.
Two rings were quickly followed by a woman’s voice. “Hello, Banding County Police, how can I help you?”
“Hi, I’m Deputy Luke Gatelin with Rackham County. I’m, um, I’m following up on a missing—potential missing persons case. Would you happened to have spoken to anyone by the name of Kirkwood recently?”
“Oh, yes. They stopped by here last Friday. Poor things.”
“Ah, alright.” Luke paused. “Would you happen to know anyone with the family name Adder?”
“I’m sorry, but that’s gonna be a ‘no’ too. We checked our databases when they came by. No one by that name.”
Luke’s finger hovered over the disconnect button, not answering straight away. After a moment, he asked, “Banding’s pretty big, right?”
“For Montana, sure.”
“Would you happen to have any open missing persons cases?”
“I’m afraid not. You might wanna check with the National Park Service.”
Grace wasn’t a hiker. Hikers disappearing off the trail, mostly solo, was common. It felt like a waste of time to be looking here. Maybe she wasn’t even in Montana anymore. Maybe she’d lost her phone.
But Luke couldn’t let go.
“Right. Thank you. Have a nice day.”
“Yep. You too.”
The other deputies came for lunch. The radio was turned up, canteens opened, and jokes were shared, but Luke remained. He hardly noticed anyone there at all.
The clock continued to tick and night fell but Luke did not rise from his seat. He called town after town in the area, drew up lists, and crossed out names. Every so often, his eyes would flick to Grace’s missing person’s poster.
He filtered through the documents they’d meticulously gathered. Grace’s parents even possessed the last place her “Find My iPhone” had pinged. Out here, it could be inaccurate by miles. It was mostly wilderness. The closest towns to Grace’s phone were Rackham and Banding.
Well not exactly.
West of Pondera and crushed beneath Glacier County, was a tiny dot; a place that Luke had only seen in passing.
A quick Google search revealed a population of less than a thousand people, a few local government numbers, and not much else.
No tourist website.
No real estate for sale.
Absolutely nothing.
Luke dialed their local police.
Someone picked up on the first ring. A man spoke. “Evening County police.”
“Hi, how are you, I’m Deputy Luke Gatelin over here in Rackham. I’m following up on a potential missing persons case.”
An awkward beat passed. “Okay.”
“Do you have any open cases with missing women?”
There was a pause. Luke listened to the sound of soft static on the other end of the line.
The other speaker took a breath. “Other than hikers?”
“You wouldn’t happen to know anyone by the name Adder, would you?”
“Why? You’re looking for him?”
“Not sure yet. I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?”
The line clicked.
“Hello?”
Frowning, Luke replaced the phone on its receiver. Weird. He’d had enough ‘weird’ for one day.
Luke pulled out his personal cell from his pocket and unlocked it. Hopefully, Sheriff Carver wasn’t too busy to answer a text—
A pair of headlights flashed, temporarily blinding Luke. He winced and got to his feet.
The lights and the car engine were shut off. A moment later, two men crossed the threshold: one very tall indigenous man and the other very, very blond. They wore muddy boots and flannel shirts. The bridges of their noses were both peeling and burned from the wind and sun. As they entered, Luke could smell pine trees and a particular scent of livestock.
Another life.
Luke smiled. “What’re you two bastards doing here?”
“Your mom sent us to check on you,” the blond said, speaking around a rather thick wad of chewing tobacco. Without warning he removed his baseball cap and threw it at Luke’s head.
Luke dodged. “What?”
Gesturing to his watch, the second man spoke. “It’s 10 o’clock, Luke. Your mom’s looking for babysitters and so Sulley here and I were summoned.”
Luke released a genuine laugh. “Shut up, Isaac.”
“Yeah, Isaac,” said Sulley. “Respect the law.”
Luke picked up the baseball cap from the floor and tucked it beneath his arm. “Good luck getting this back, Sulley.”
“Nah, you go on and keep it,” said Sulley with a grin. “Help cover up your ugly mug.”
“I’m good.” Luke tossed it back with an easy flick of the wrist. “Sorry you guys had to come all the way down here. I’m just working late.”
“I’m not,” said Sulley. “It was a good excuse to get goody-two-shoes here to come with me to the bar.”
Isaac rolled his eyes.
“Always the principal’s boy,” quipped Luke.
Snorting, Isaac said, “don’t be jealous my mom never liked you.”
“Wanna join us, Luke?” asked Sulley.
Luke looked at the clock once more. Where did the day go? As he turned back to his friends, his gaze snagged on the desk phone. Luke visibly paused, holding his breath for a moment.
On his next exhale, he asked, “have either of you ever heard of a town called Evening?”
Sulley shook his head.
Isaac’s smile faded. “Evening?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Not much,” said Isaac. “Only stories.”
“Like?”
“Just girls going missing back in my grandpa’s day on the rez. It happened 100 years ago but everyone on my dad’s side of the family avoids that place like the plague. Don’t know much about it other than that. Why?”
“Just asking.”
“It’s police business, Isaac,” sniffed Sulley. He jostled Isaac with his elbow. “Luke ain’t no bronco bustin’ cowboy no more. He’s a man of the law.”
But Isaac didn’t laugh. He sent Luke a curious look. “You going home?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
Isaac nodded. “Okay, well. Don’t be out on the roads too late.” He paused. before adding, “And call your mama for God’s sakes.”
“Thank you, will do. And no drinking and driving and no fighting, Sulley,” said Luke. “I don’t wanna get called back out here.”
“The Luke from six years ago would’ve been in the pen with me,” returned Sulley.
“I mean it!”
They left and Luke shut down the precinct. He stepped out onto the frosted sidewalk, felt the ice grind into the heels of his shoes, and stopped in a streetlamp’s orange pool.
Everything was still.
Across the street, he could see his reflection in a darkened window. Luke looked at himself with curiosity. The clothes he wore didn’t feel like his; a costume. Suddenly, it felt like the life he was living and the night he stood in wasn’t real either. Like it was all a strange dream that he might wake from at any second. Above, the stars bore down with their unblinking eyes.
Luke felt like he was shrinking.
To escape, Luke hastily crossed the street and got into his car. It rumbled to life. He waited for the engine to warm. Thoughts turned to Grace Kirkwood. Luke pulled the missing poster from his pocket, not entirely sure when he’d folded it and placed it in there.
Grace smiled up at him. He could see Michael Kirkwood’s eyes and Ainsley’s nose. He wondered what Grace looked like as a baby.
Luke reflected on the hallway in his parents’ house. Two baby boys, blond hair now brown, four legs now three. Belt buckles and rodeos. Mother kissing Hank’s face at the USMC Recruit Depot in San Diego, an eighteen-year-old Luke watching in the background. Four years later, Hank gives the thumbs up from a hospital bed.
Next picture, Luke in his own uniform.
What did the Kirkwoods' hall look like? Probably finger painting and girls’ birthdays, honor roll certificates, and BA diplomas. Daddy coming home from deployment and a hug around the neck.
Luke couldn’t see Grace up and running. Perhaps he was filling in the spaces with what he wanted to, but he just couldn’t stop.
Tomorrow, he’d call in sick.
Tomorrow, he’d head to Evening.
Thank you for reading episode II of A Town Called Evening. This is an experiment for me. My goal is to keep this serialized fiction short and readable. Join me next Monday morning for the next entry!
I hope you enjoyed!
Kind regards,
M.E. Beckley
P.S. Be sure to stay tuned for Jack and Sari’s next adventure in Blackwater coming out this Wednesday.
Very interesting. Got my attention and held onto it. I like the subtle clues about the town of Evening. And having the line go dead as he asks the wrong question? Genius.
The setup is very intriguing so far!