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“Who’s this?” Oleg barked into his cell as he sat in his parked car outside of Nicholas Smirkowitz’s dental office.
“And who is this?” an equally irritated voice responded. “You called me, and I don’t know who you are.”
“I’m looking for Tilda,” Oleg admitted as he attempted to lower his voice. “She’s the emergency contact for Dr. Nicholas Smirkowitz. Her name’s on the door of his office, and this is an emergency.”
Wilbur was bone tired. He’d returned from the budget meeting at his church an hour ago where he’d listened to a bunch of “God’s people” argue with each other and point fingers to blame for the financial woes of the church. He was powerless and all he’d wanted to do was come home, have a cup of tea to relax, and go to bed.
“Hello, hello, are you there?” Oleg persisted.
“Yeah, I’m here,” Wilbur said quietly. “What kinda emergency. What’s wrong?”
“I must speak to Tilda, and only to Tilda. Please put her on the line,” Oleg insisted, his voice anxious.
“What kinda emergency?” Wilbur asked again.
“Ah, a dental emergency. A tooth emergency.” Oleg stuttered and lied. “My tooth hurts me, and I need the doctor,” he insisted.
A sense of relief came over Wilbur. “Call the office number and they will direct you to an on-call dentist who will see you,” Wilbur assured him as he prepared to hang up.
“No, no. I must talk to Tilda. Dr. Smirkowitz is missing.” Oleg’s voice was insistent and his accent more pronounced. “I heard she knows his personal cell number. I must reach him,” Oleg pleaded with Wilbur.
“I dunno and Tilda’s not here. Just call the office in the morning. I am sure he’ll be in then.”
“You must help me, you have to help me. I’ve no one else to ask. Please let me speak with your wife,” Oleg begged him. “If I can’t find the doctor, many people will die.”
“People die? I thought you had a toothache. You’re lying to me,” Wilbur added, his voice reproachful.
Oleg was silent.
“Who are you?” Wilbur demanded. “What do you really want?”
Oleg responded in a slow, steady voice. “I need to find Dr. Smirkowitz or many bad things will begin to happen,” he promised in an ominous voice.
“I’m hangin’ up and callin’ the police,” Wilbur answered angrily. “That is, unless you wanna tell me more about this.”
Oleg sighed loudly. He could make sure Wilbur never woke another morning with no problem. He took the chance. “Dr. Smirkowitz is involved with very bad people. I’m worried about him and think he could be in great danger.”
“So what? I don’t care about Nicholas Smirkowitz. Why’re you telling me this?” Wilbur questioned in an irritable tone.
Oleg took a chance. “Your wife helps Dr. Smirkowitz sometimes in the evenings. Perhaps she stays late to assist with patients or to work on the bookkeeping. Perhaps she’s involved in the bad business. That’s why I’m looking for your wife.”
Wilbur sighed, and Oleg could tell he was getting somewhere with the moron. “Tilda’s not home, I dunno where she is.” His voice was quiet and discouraged.
“When did you see her last?”
“Late this afternoon. ‘Bout half after four or so. She left to go to Walmart.”
“Walmart? You think she went to Walmart?” Oleg’s tone turned incredulous and sarcastic.
When Wilbur spoke again, Oleg heard the defensiveness. “That’s what she said,” he repeated slowly. “She was goin’ to Walmart to pick a few things up and be back shortly.”
“That’s been hours ago. Any idea where she is now?”
“No,” Wilbur said, and then Oleg heard the click of the call ending.