At first he wasn’t alarmed when he didn’t hear from her. He sat in his office and talked aloud to me. “Why wouldn’t she let me take her to the airport?” He fiddled with a paperweight on his desk. “What’s she gonna do with her car? Why didn’t I think of any of that?”
After six evening meals - my time was determined by my regular feedings - Ashlundt started to worry. “She should be there by now. Why hasn’t she called me?” He looked at me like he expected an answer and dished out my regular kibble mixed with leftover beef stew. I gobbled down my meal, then followed him into his office where he dialed her cell phone. “Damn, voice mail,” Ashlundt muttered.
Sara’s parents had been killed in a car accident when she was 19, and she was an only child. I heard her explain why holidays sometimes made her sad to Corky once. She really was alone in the world but for her life with us and her friends. I was worried about her to begin with, but Ashlundt’s nervousness made me want to scratch an itch I didn’t have.
The next day, Ashlundt sat brooding at the small oak kitchen table. He was drinking his coffee in one of Sara’s USC college mugs. I was just beginning to take my morning after-breakfast nap when he sprang up and ran to Sara’s office. Startled, I padded after him, then sat and watched as he dug through Sara’s desk drawers. “Where’s her phone numbers?”
Papers made circles in the air before landing in a pile on the floor. “Bingo, Luke! It’s her address book!” He found it at the very bottom of a bunch of files. Clutching it to his chest like a precious treasure, he carried it into his office, settled at his desk and began dialing the numbers of Sara’s friends. I followed, then stretched out on my office bed in the corner of the room. His first message was to her best friend and old roommate Debi.
“Hi, this is Ash. Please call me if you’ve talked to Sara in the last week or two. Thanks.”
He tried her other good friends from USC, Lauren and Stephanie, and their mutual close buddy Bruce Hines, Ashlundt’s old college roommate. I had heard that Bruce was an oncologist and researcher –whatever that was - at the UCLA cancer clinic. After he had introduced Dr. Hines and Sara, they too had become good friends. Sara had often talked to Bruce about doing therapy with cancer patients. Ashlundt ended up leaving voice messages for all of them.
A call to Sara’s former boss, Dr. Suzi Wild, left him with zip. “Hi, Ash. How’s Sara doing at Oxford?”
“Haven’t you talked to her?” was his quick response.
“No, other than when she gave her two weeks notice at work. She told me about Oxford. What an exciting opportunity for her. Is there something wrong, Ash?”
“No, Suzi, nothing. I … she … it’s just been a while since we talked,” he tried to wash over the truth.
“Well, when you talk to her tell her I send my best.”
“I will, Suzi, thanks.”
He turned to me quickly, “Well, that was a wash out.”
The phone calls went on for many days. Finding no success, Ashlundt decided to change his strategy. “Gonna block my phone number, boy. They’ve gotta be avoiding me ‘coz they know it’s me calling.”
A call to the phone company seemed to resolve the caller id problem. But, he still waited until night this time before making his round of phone calls to Sara’s friends. As always, he used his speaker phone.
“Debi. Hi! This is Ash. Quick question: Have you spoken to Sara in the last month?”
“Ash, hi, spoken to Sara? No, why?”
Ah, a live voice at the other end, not a beeping answering machine. Ash was probably right about blocking his number. I listened as he talked to Sara’s friend.
“So she didn’t tell you she was going to Oxford?” His face reflected his amazement.
“Oxford? Really, wow. That’s cool. Good for her.”
Ashlundt hunched closer to the speaker phone. “Debs, come on. She didn’t tell you about it?”
“Uh, no. Haven’t talked to her in a while. I must be out of the loop.”
Ashlundt scratched his chin; his eyes filled with suspicion. “How can that be? She’s one of your best friends?”
“Can’t answer that, Ash.”
Her voice was too cavalier, and that made me suspicious. I gave out a muffled growl, though Deb probably didn’t hear me from her end.
“Ash, haven’t you talked to her? I mean, you do live with her. If anyone would know anything…” Her voice tailed off.
“That’s the whole point!” I could see his frustration growing. His face was reddening. He bit his lip and tried to dial down his temper. He squeezed his eyes shut as if in deep thought. “I’m just… she just… it’s all a bit confusing. I thought maybe you could help.” He rested his elbows on his knees, cupped his face with his hands and frowned still with his eyes shut.
“Look, Ash. I’ll let you know if I hear from her. All right?”
“Sure, thanks. I’d appreciate it.” He hit the off button on the phone, stood up, grabbed a book from his desk and pitched it against the wall. “Damn! She’s clueless, Luke.”
I stood up from my bed and barked once in agreement. Ash patted me on the head, then sat back down in his chair, hit the speaker button on his phone and dialed another number.
“Bruce, it’s Ash. Got a minute?”
“Hey, Ash. What’s up?”
“What’s up? Well, for starters, why the hell haven’t you returned my calls?” Ashlundt kicked off his flip flops under the desk, stood up and began to pace.
“Sorry, man. I’ve been swamped. My caseload’s insane these days. I’ve also been training some new residents. You know how it is.”
“Okay, never mind. You got my messages … so, have you talked to Sara in the last month?” He stopped and shrugged, his hands pointed upward.
“Sara, no, why?” Hines’ voice was cautious.
“She’s over at Oxford. Went for a year as an assistant. Says she’s completing her doctorate. But she isn’t answering her cell. I can’t get hold of her.” Ashlundt walked back to his chair and plopped down hard into it. “Weird, eh?”
“Hmmm … well, you know cell phones can be dodgy in Europe, Ash.”
“Voice mail works fine, Bruce! She’s not calling me back. Something’s wrong. Didn’t Sara tell you she was going to Oxford?” Ashlundt was up and pacing again and on the point of losing it.
“Nope. Didn’t know, but that’s great news!”
“This isn’t right! Debi didn’t know either. You’d think this would be something she’d tell her best friends. Look, if you hear anything, call me ASAP, okay?”
“Of course, man. Calm down. I’m sure you’ll hear from her. She loves you, Ash; you know that.”
Ashlundt took a deep breath. He seemed to relax a little. “Okay, Bruce, thanks. Call me if you hear.”
More calls to Sara’s other girlfriends yielded the same results. They all sounded surprised to learn from him that she had gone to London.
When Ashlundt had finally checked off the last name on his list, he jumped up from his desk and started pacing back and forth between the kitchen and his office. I jumped up and followed him, my tail wagging the whole time. I was surely hoping for a late-night snack, but it didn’t materialize. Instead, Ashlundt made a cup of coffee for himself and checked his watch. “Hmmn… after midnight here; should be morning there.”
I followed him back into his office and watched him down the cup of coffee. For several minutes, he sat, drumming his fingers on his desk. Finally, he seemed to find his courage. “Luke, boy. I’m gonna call the psych department at Oxford. They’ll tell me the truth.” Slowly, he dialed the digits until a funny double ringing sound filled his speaker.
“Margaret Hyde-White,” a woman’s voice answered.
“Hello, this is Dr. Ashlundt Jaynes from Los Angeles. Are you the dean’s assistant?”
“Yes sir. That would be me. And how can I assist you?”
“Um, well, I’m trying to locate a friend of mine, Sara Colson. She recently accepted a position in your department.”
“Hold on. I’ll call up her file on my computer, Dr. Jaynes.”
Ashlundt drummed his fingers on his desk some more. He stared up at the ceiling as he waited. I sauntered over and sat next to his chair in support.
Finally, the voice with the formal accent returned to the line. “I’m sorry, Dr. Jaynes, but what is your relationship to Miss Colson?”
Ashlundt ran his hands through his hair. “She’s my girlfriend. My fiancé. I’m worried about her welfare. I haven’t heard from her since she left for London a month ago.”
“I see. Hmm … well policy dictates that I cannot give out this kind of information over the telephone …”
“Look, Mrs. Hyde-White, I’m really worried about her. I just need to make sure she’s there and safe at the very least!”
I thought he might throw another book against the wall any second now, but Ashlundt remained surprisingly composed.
“All right. I appreciate your concern. Let me scan the file.”
I held my breath waiting for her answer.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Jaynes, but Miss Colson was offered an opportunity here at the department a year ago. Brilliant girl, that. But she declined. The note I have in my file says her circumstances no longer permitted her to leave the states.”
I watched Ashlundt’s face pale. “You’re saying she isn’t there?”
“Correct. She is not currently situated at Oxford. I hope this is helpful to you, Dr. Jaynes?”
“Yes … it is, thank you.” He ended the call, pounded a fist on his desk and shouted the unthinkable … “She lied to me. Why? And where the hell is she?”
*****
Days went by. Ashlundt grew more frantic by the hour. He sat behind his desk dialing other numbers in Sara’s address book. When he felt he hit another dead end, he’d lean back in his desk chair, hands on head, staring blankly into space. He didn’t eat; he rarely slept. He looked scruffy from not shaving. A few of his remaining patients knocked on his outside office door, yet no amount of barking would move him. He only came to life when I made so much ruckus about being fed that he had to fix me my food. Other than that, no matter what I did, he wouldn’t budge. His phone would ring, and he would grab it, only to hang up on the person at the other end if it wasn’t Sara or someone who could help him locate her. It was so sad to watch.
He was sitting at his desk staring at the wall again when I decided to try and shake him out of his dark mood. I retrieved a rawhide chew bone from my toy box. Hickory flavor. I began by chewing on it as hard as I could to get Ashlundt’s attention. Chomp. Chomp. Crunch. Chomp. The rhythmic crunching must have driven him crazy. Finally, he turned to me and threw his hands in the air. “Luke, you’re gonna break a tooth if you don’t stop chomping on your bone like that.”
That was my cue. I began to growl and slowly brought my left hind foot toward the bone in my mouth. It was as if another dog was trying to steal my treasure. As the foot grew closer, I growled louder and evaded it by turning my head in the other direction. I forced my foot closer to my head again and growled even louder. I pushed my foot back and forth toward my face, then turned and snarled at it. Just as quickly I dropped the bone and flashed my teeth at my “rival” foot, which retreated quickly.
Ashlundt threw back his head with a big belly laugh. “Luke, you… you are… ha ha ha. Too funny! You goofy dog… come here you silly guy.”
I was rewarded for my momentary entertainment with a huge hug that seemed to last longer than usual. He squeezed me to him and continued to laugh. It made me smile inside. I had succeeded in making him smile.
Encouraged by my success, I searched for something, anything in the house to continue to jog him out of his dark mood. I started in the den. It was my favorite room because shutters covered the windows and made it cool in summer. The large L-shaped leather sofa was my favorite place to nap. I had a spot right on the end and could lay with my head resting on the stuffed arm. A nap would have been good about then, but I had work to do. I looked at a picture of the three of us on the fireplace mantle. It was the day Tim and Corky came home from vacation and were introduced to me. I was 10 weeks old. Tim took the happy photo. It jogged back memories of my puppy days. Those first weeks at home were full of excitement. I remembered exploring the huge yard and surrounding woods. Ashlundt had bought two beds for me, one for his home office, another for Sara’s office and one for the master bedroom. I looked around the room, but I couldn’t find what I needed. I jumped from the sofa and continued my search.
The master bedroom was my next stop. I nosed through the laundry basket. Phew! Ashlundt better wash his clothes. It was full of dirty socks and underwear. But never mind that. I needed to find something, anything to help us find Sara. No obvious clues. Sara was such a neat person, and all of her personal items were tucked away or taken with her. Another photo of the two of them wouldn’t help. I loved the one on their dresser. It had been taken at a party for patients and their pets at Dr. Wild’s house. Ashlundt had thrown Sara in the pool, clothes and all, then jumped in after her. Dr. Wild had snapped the photo of them, heads together and wet, laughing in the water. Unfortunately, that was no help.
Finally, in the kitchen, I saw it. A police magnet on the refrigerator that Sara received after a donation to the LAPD Benevolence Foundation. I pushed it to the edge of the door with my nose until it fell to the floor. Gently, I grabbed it with my teeth and carried it to Ashlundt, dropping it in his lap. He was at his usual spot behind his desk. Startled, he looked down at me. “What is it, boy?”
Ashlundt stared at the magnet, then picked it up and turned it over slowly. “Smart boy, Lukey. I thought about going to the police.” He shrugged. “It just makes it so … dire. But you know what? It may be our only chance to find her.” He flipped the magnet in the air several times, then stood up.
“Luke, come on. We’re going to take a trip down to the police station to report Sara as a missing person.”
I cocked my head and looked at him. He was wearing his usual t-shirt and shorts uniform. That just wouldn’t do for this occasion. I quickly ran to his bedroom and found Ashlundt’s navy blue sports jacket that had been flung over a chair. I grabbed it in my teeth and carried it over to him. I thought it might make him a little more “credible.” Besides, with Sara not here to look after him, someone needed to make sure he looked presentable.
“Thanks, boy.” Ashlundt flashed me a wide-eyed look. “Sometimes I wonder if you weren’t someone’s personal assistant in a past life.” With that, he pulled on a pair of jeans, loafers and a buttoned-down shirt. The jacket finished off the look I wanted him to have.
********
We sat in some cramped office filled with rolls of yellow police tape and unused road flares. The front desk sergeant had ordered me out of the Chatsworth Station, but Officer Holtzman had chided him. “Oh, for Pete’s sake, Harold, let the dog through. He’s a handsome one.”
I had no idea why Harold thought I’d be a problem. The place had grimy concrete floors and walls and needed a good scrubbing.
“And why do you think she is missing, Dr. Jaynes?” Officer Holtzman asked. He was a short, rotund man who smelled of garlic and cheese. The smell made my stomach growl slightly, and I hoped we could eat soon. I loved cheese.
“Well, we lived together for two years, and suddenly she told me she was going to get her doctorate in England.” Ashlundt went on to explain the details of how Sara had disappeared from our lives. “She lied, but that’s not like her. Something’s happened to her.” My master squinted in heavy concern.
“Err, is there the possibility that she wanted to leave you and didn’t have the courage to say anything?” Holtzman tipped back in his chair with a knowing look. “These things happen sometimes.”
“No, she’s not like that. She’s straightforward and honest. And if she’d been sick of me she’d have told me!” Ashlundt slapped the table to drive home his point. “No, I’m starting to think that something bad has happened to her. Either that, or she’s hiding something from me; doesn’t want me to know something’s going on with her. But that’s just a guess.”
I put a paw on his leg and whined at Ashlundt to let him know he was on the right track.
Ashlundt shot me a puzzled look, then went on talking to the detective. “That’s her nature. She’s very giving, loving. She was extremely upset when she left.” He turned back to me and gave me a sideways glance.
“Would anyone have reason to threaten her for any particular reason?” The policeman questioned while scribbling notes on a yellow pad.
“No, absolutely not. She’s a kind, thoughtful person. Can’t think of anything. I mean, she never mentioned being threatened.” I could smell Ashlundt’s anguish. He was breathing heavily; sweating profusely.
“Okay, let’s calm down. I have to ask these questions. Look, regardless of what you think, doc, she may have had her reasons for leaving. Can you think of anything?”
“No, nothing,” my master muttered.
I whined to try and get their attention to no avail.
“Okay.” Officer Holtzman tapped his pen on the desk. “Here’s what I can do. I’ll start entering the info about Ms. Colson into our system. But, I need to get more detail. Then, I can circulate her as a ‘missing’ on the Police National Computer. Any officer domestically or internationally can contact us if they find out anything helpful.”
“Good.” Ashlundt leaned forward and wiped his brow with his sleeve. What do you need? Oh, wait, I brought something.” Fishing into his sports jacket, he handed Holtzman a piece of paper. “That’s her license plate number and the make and model of her car. It’s a blue and white Mini-Cooper.”
“This will help. We’ll run it through our database; put a trace on it,” Holtzman added the information to the pad in front of him.
“Oh, and you’ll need these.” Ashlundt handed Holtzman three photos of Sara: One a head shot, a second image of her standing with me in our front yard and another of the two of them together in front of Dodger Stadium. I think the last one was taken by Corky a couple of months ago.
“Okay, this is a good start. Any further description would be helpful. You know, height, weight and so forth,” the policeman said as he turned to his computer keyboard.
“Well, she’s unusually tall for a woman, as you can see in the photos… a little over six feet, but slender, 130 pounds. She’s not a typical Southern California girl – but she was born and raised in L.A. She has black long hair to her waist, dark brown eyes full of mischief, freckles across her nose. She has this heart-shaped face…and a wide smile that shows off perfect-”
“Uh, doc, I get the picture,” Holtzman interrupted. “It’s clear you care about her. Thanks.”
After getting her full name, age and our address and phone number, Holtzman tapped his knuckles on the desk. “Any relatives?”
“Her parents are dead. A car wreck. Sara’s an only child.”
“Friends?”
“Um… I made this list.” He pulled a rumpled page from his pocket and unfolded it. “Dr. Suzi Wild at the Wild Vet Clinic. Girlfriends – Debi, Stephanie and Lauren at school; one of my associates – Dr. Bruce Hines at UCLA, and our neighbors Tim and Corky Benson – but none of them know where Sara has gone. I’ve talked to them already. I’ve looked everywhere.” Ashlundt clasped his hands in front of him and rested his elbows on his knees.
“Write ‘em all down for me anyway on this form – names, addresses and phone numbers. Anything that’ll help us.” Holtzman slid a pad of paper across the desk to Ashlundt.
Before Ashlundt could finish writing the last bit of information, Officer Holtzman continued his inquiry. “Any particular places that she frequented?”
“Just work, home and out with me. She did some book signings – she’s a published author; wrote a book that grew out of her Masters thesis. It’s about unconditional love. She studies psychology. Most of the signings were at conferences – we attended them together,” Ashlundt remarked as he scratched his head.
“What about her health? Was it good?”
I started to wag my tail and bark.
“Shhh, Luke! Enough!” Ashlundt commanded me. Then, to the officer he remarked, “Sorry about that. He’s still a puppy in many ways. Thanks for letting me bring him inside with us.” He sighed in frustration. “Oh, and about Sara’s health… she never complained of anything. She’s just twenty three. Why’d you ask?”
“Just a thought.” The officer leaned forward. “Sometimes even young women have lingering health issues, or mental health issues. You know, like diabetes, high blood pressure, nervous breakdown, that sort of thing.”
“No, honestly, I can’t think of anything like that.” Ashlundt scratched his chin. “I mean, she’s had colds, even the flu last year for a few days. But that’s really it.”
“Okay, well how about your living situation? Did you have any problems before she left?” The policeman asked matter-of-factly.
“Well, uh … I recently was involved in a lawsuit related to my practice. I’ve been pretty tough on her … I tend to take things out on her a bit …” Ashlundt’s face slowly turned red as he spoke the words.
“Take things out? Did it ever get physical?”
“Physical?” Ashlundt stood up from his chair, then quickly sat down. “No, never. I’d never do anything like that. Why’d you ask?”
“Just covering the routine questions; not accusing you of anything.” Officer Holtzman scribbled something on his notepad. “Look, doc, we’ll do what we can to help you find her. But this hardly sounds like abduction at this point, or anything too serious. From what you tell me, it really sounds like Ms. Colson might’ve just needed some space for awhile. You know women. If you guys were arguing, maybe she just needed some time to cool down. Nothing else you’ve told me points to anything else.”
“So, what should I do next?” Ashlundt implored with outstretched arms. I immediately licked the hand closest to me in support.
“Well, first of all, I suggest you go back to Sara’s friends and see if you can’t get one of them to open up to you. Maybe someone’s protecting her. Also, if you have access, please get us her credit card and ATM info. Maybe a checking account number. We’ll run a trace and see if she’s been using them, and where.”
Ashlundt shrugged his shoulders. “Um, well if she’s left any records behind, I’ll find them for you. And okay, I’ll try her friends again. I just don’t know…” He began to choke back his anguish as his voice trailed off.
“Doc, to me it just sounds like a domestic disagreement. If you’ve been having troubles and taking it out on her …”
“It’s not like that!” Ashlundt shot up again from his chair. His reaction startled me, and I let out a loud bark. “Shhh.” He flashed me a scolding look.
Officer Holtzman reached over and patted Ashlundt’s hand gently. “Listen, most times it’s like that, doc. I’ll put her in the database like I said. And we’ll ask around the neighborhood. In the meantime, talk to your friends again and get me the credit card info. Hopefully, she’ll just turn up and make both of our jobs a little easier.”
“Is that all you can do?” Ashlundt took the detective’s extended hand reluctantly and shook it, knowing the meeting was finished.
“For now. Come back if you don’t find her. Unless I have some evidence of foul play, the database and the car and financial traces are the best things we can do.”
Officer Holtzman patted me on the head. “Hey boy, how ‘bout a donut with sprinkles? Would you like one?” He pointed to a pink box on his desk that I’d been eying since we entered the room. I wagged my tail in the affirmative, and he tossed the pastry in my direction. It never hit the ground; devoured in two quick bites.
*****
Somewhere in our house there had to be some evidence to help Ashlundt find Sara’s whereabouts. I knew what I had to do when we got home.
Ashlundt shuffled into the kitchen to make us dinner. I followed. He started questioning himself aloud. “Luke, what an idiot I’ve been! How stupid was I with that policeman?” He filled a pot with water and clanked it onto the stove. Next, he opened a jar of Ragu tomato sauce and dumped it in a smaller pan that he had retrieved from the cabinet. It smelled great. He stirred the sauce with a wooden spoon and broke open a box of spaghetti with the other hand. He waited for the water to boil and mumbled, “Now he thinks I’ve been abusing her; that she ran away from me! How could he think that?”
In frustration, he bent down and opened all the cabinets under the stove. He began to rummage through them, throwing pots and pans across the floor. I couldn’t resist getting into the act. I quickly slammed into the cabinet pushing the pots and pans out onto the floor and replacing them with my body. It felt cozy inside the pot cabinet.
“Luke! You’re making a mess!” The realization of our ridiculous behavior seemed to dawn on him. He put his hands on his hips and chuckled. “Oh, I see; showing me how stupid I’m being, right?” He bent down to clean up our mess. I howled in amusement.
After dinner, I decided to explore Sara’s office. I poked my head inside, stood on my hind legs so I could flip on the wall light switch with my nose, climbed into her chair and surveyed her empty desk top. Nothing there. The house was a mess. Ashlundt hadn’t allowed the cleaning ladies to do their job since Sara left. The trash can was overflowing with paper. I easily tipped it over with my big head and scattered the contents on the floor. Dirty tissues. Crumpled papers. An empty tape dispenser. I pawed through them slowly until I came to some pamphlets with hospital buildings on them. Maybe Sara had gone to one of them. I scooped them up in my mouth and took them to Ashlundt. He was just coming from the kitchen. I dropped them at his feet.
“Luke! No! Stop making a mess again!” Ashlundt bent down and gathered the pamphlets in his hands. He started to thumb through one of them, then stood upright and continued to shuffle through the pages until something caught his eye. “What’s this? UCLA Medical Center? Is this Sara’s?” He shoved the pamphlet under my nose and pointed to a section circled in red.
I jumped up and down on my hind legs to encourage him.
He stared at me thoughtfully and then announced, “I’m gonna try Bruce again, boy.” I followed him into his office. Ash snapped on an overhead light and hurried to his desk. I sat down on my bed in the corner. Thankfully for my benefit, Ashlundt hit the speaker phone button, allowing me to hear both ends of the conversation.
“Bruce, I know we’ve already been over this, but I think I’ll go insane if I can’t find Sara.”
“Ash, you’ve gotta calm down. I know you’re worried about her. It’s perfectly normal.”
Ashlundt rocked back and forth in his chair, then lurched forward toward the phone. “Listen, since we last spoke I’ve discovered a few things. I just… I don’t know what to do about them.”
“What do you mean, Ash? What kind of things? I don’t follow.”
“Well, for starters, I know that she isn’t at Oxford. They have no record of her there. She lied to me! I just can’t believe it!” Ashlundt shot up from his desk chair and ran his hands through his long blonde hair.
“I’m sorry, Ash.” Hines’ voice was filled with compassion. If he knew anything more, he wasn’t letting on.
“And that’s not all,” Ashlundt continued. “I went to the police and filed a report. Now they’re out looking for her too.” Ashlundt was pacing back and forth now, and I watched him intently.
“The cops? Ash, you can’t be serious. Why’d you do that?” Bruce suddenly sounded less confident than usual.
“Oh, c’mon. I had to. If someone abducted her on her way to wherever she was going… how could I live with myself if I didn’t do everything to find her?”
“Yeah, fine, I get it.” Bruce muttered, sounding agitated. “So, okay, you called the police. Why are you telling me all this?”
Ashlundt sat back down in his chair. He stretched his arms high above his head. “Well, actually, Bruce, when I came home, I found some pamphlets in Sara’s office. UCLA Medical Center. They had your department circled in red. The handwriting is hers.” Ashlundt paused, picked up a pen and rolled it through his fingers nervously. “So, if you know something, it’s time you share it! No doubt, the police are probably going to be asking all our friends anyway. I figured I’d give you a heads up.”
“Ash, I told you: I don’t know where Sara is. Why don’t you believe me?” His voice was on shaky grounds now.
“Because you’ve never been a good liar, Bruce. I’m sick with worry and need to know if she’s okay.” Ashlundt leaned forward in his chair, placing his elbows on his knees. “What are you hiding from me?”
“Look, Ash, stop worrying about her; I’m sure she’ll contact you when she can.”
“Okay, now you can’t tell me you don’t know something!” Ashlundt leaped to his feet in anger again shaking his fist in the air.
“Really, I don’t know anything, Ash!”
“Bruce, you’re lying.” He bent toward the speaker phone, hands on hips, as if to accuse it.
“Ash, I’m not lying. Stop bullying me about this.”
“Bullying? Bruce, how would you feel if our situations were reversed?”
“I … I don’t know what you mean.”
“Bruce, you’ve always been a good friend. Please help me; I beg you. Plus, now the cops are involved. If you have a lead…” Ashlundt sighed, not completing his sentence.
“I can’t do anything to help you, Ash. Wish I could.”
“Listen, meet me at Starbucks on Weyburn in Westwood. It’s close to you. I need a friend. C’mon, man. Please?” Ashlundt seemed to be begging the speaker phone now, both hands clasped together. I got up from my bed and moved closer to him. His hand immediately found my head and scratched it nervously.
“Well, I’m in the middle of a project right now. It’s a bad time.”
Ashlundt leaned toward the speaker. “Please, Bruce.”
Dr. Hines hesitated for a moment. I could hear papers being shuffled.
“The best I can do is later, after work, Ash. I’ll be done here by nine, maybe later.”
“Fine, I’ll be there at nine, Bruce. I’ll wait for you till you get there.”
Ashlundt paced around the house until it was time to leave. We loaded into his SUV, and I settled behind him and took a nap. I hoped Dr. Hines would provide us with the answers we needed.
********
It was a warm, comfortable evening. We sat at an outdoor table. Ashlundt sipped his iced coffee and rubbed my neck beneath my collar as we waited. I could feel his palms getting sweaty as his watch ticked onward. The coffee shop was pretty crowded for nighttime. A number of couples were sitting outside at tables throughout the patio with sweet smelling beverages. Ashlundt also mumbled something about some of them being students in study groups, whatever that was.
“Quarter to ten!” Ashlundt blurted out at one point. It was a few moments later when Dr. Hines finally appeared. He walked slowly to our table and shook hands with Ashlundt, then gave me a solid body rub that got my leg to shake involuntarily. It felt so good. Dr. Hines headed inside and ordered some coffee. Soon, he was back at our table. He seemed nervous. He was a thin man with dark brown hair and eyes somewhat obscured by dark horned-rim glasses.
“So, Ash, how’s the lawsuit going?” His coffee cup revealed the slightest tremble while he held it to add extra sugar from a paper packet.
“I settled it, Bruce. Attorney cleaned me out. Insurance covered the settlement.”
I could tell that Ashlundt was holding himself back. He kept bouncing his left leg off the ball of his foot in a nervous tick.
“Business hasn’t been so good.”
“Sorry to hear it. Such a bum deal.”
“Yeah. It was bad enough having my patient die like that… I thought I had her in a better place… it was horrible.” Ashlundt sipped his iced coffee again and continued to bounce his left leg while rubbing my head even harder as I sat closely next to him.
There was an awkward pause between the two of them with both men fidgeting. And then, Ashlundt took the plunge.
“Bruce, I can’t avoid the reason I’m here any longer. Please, if you know anything about Sara, you gotta tell me.”
“I told you, Ash, I know nothing.” Dr. Hines wiped his face with a napkin.
I knew it was a lie. He was sweating. I could smell it. He also refused to look Ashlundt in the eyes when he told it. If there’s one thing dogs know about sincerity, it’s eye contact.
“Bruce, why are you doing this? I know damn well you’re lying. You can’t even look me in the face.” Ashlundt leaned forward in his chair toward his friend. He’d picked up on the same concern that I’d noticed.
“That’s not true!” Dr. Hines hunched forward and looked somewhere between Ashlundt’s nose and mouth.
“Look, how long have we been friends? Fifteen years?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Since we were teenagers, right? High school, I guess” Dr. Hines admitted as he played with the stir stick in his coffee cup.
“Then why are you refusing to share what you know with me? I’m… I’m just sick with worry about Sara. I’ve been to the police. I’ve called everyone I know. If you truly don’t know where she is, then I’ll be terrified that something awful has happened to her.” Ashlundt sat back in his chair, sighed deeply and ran his hands through his hair.
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Ash.” Dr. Hines shrugged.
I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t know where she is, Bruce.”
Hines looked at Ashlundt and once again repeated, “I don’t know…”
“Bruce, let me level with you. Tomorrow morning I have to go back to the police with her credit card and ATM info. If she’s alive and using her money, they’re going to be able track her down through recent transactions. And it’s not just that. Bruce, the cops are starting to point a finger at me. I’m the last one who supposedly saw her alive. If she stays missing any longer, well, I could be arrested. I think the investigating officer thinks that I was abusive with her. So now, it’s not just about her. It’s about me too. If you know anything at all, now would be the ideal time to share it. For everyone’s sake.”
Dr. Hines rubbed the back of his thin neck and let out a deep sigh. “Look, I promised Sara. She’s… trying to protect you. But, we’ve been friends for a long time.”
“Protect me? From what? Bruce, damn it! Tell me what you know!” Ashlundt glared at his friend.
“Sara has… Sara’s been ill. I-”
I barked twice out loud to confirm that Bruce was telling the truth. Ashlundt ignored me, his eyes fixed on those of his friend.
“What? Sick! What’s happened to her?” Ashlundt leaped from his chair. “Please, Bruce, please tell me about Sara!”
The conversations from the surrounding tables seemed to stop at once. Everyone on the coffee shop patio was staring at us.
Dr. Hine leaned closer to Ashlundt and spoke in a hushed tone. “In the five weeks since she left you, Sara had a mastectomy… cancer… She’s just starting chemo.”
“Oh, my God!” Ashlundt fell back into his chair. The color drained from his face. Several moments passed. He just sat quietly with his head in his hands. I inched closer to him and licked his cheek in an effort to console him. I think I tasted a few teardrops.
Finally, Ashlundt looked up at Dr. Hines. He whispered, “Where is she?”
“Ash, please just wait until Sara contacts you. She will, you know.” Again, Hines wiped the sweat from his brow with a napkin.
“I need to know where she is, Bruce!” Ashlundt slammed his fist on the glass table again drawing the attention of onlookers around us.
“I’m not going to tell you that, Ash.”
“Why?”
Dr. Hines took another sip of his coffee. He wiped his forehead with his hands. “She already had the diagnosis and scheduled the surgery when she left you.”
“My God, she told me nothing,” Ashlundt replied, anguish in his voice.
“It had been her plan to call you the first week she left to keep up the pretense, but she had a rough time with the surgery. Then, after you started calling all her friends, well, she knew you were on to her.”
“So, her friends are in on this?” Ashlundt stared at the star-filled sky and said nothing.
Hines reached across the table and placed his hand on his friend’s arm. “I’ll need to tell her that I talked to you. I’m sorry, Ash.”
Ashlundt said nothing. He sat for what seemed a long time until I finally put my head in his lap and gave him a sympathetic whine. “Why …” he moaned. “Why did this have to happen?”
I whined again, put my paws in his lap and pushed the top of my body into it, licking his face and trying to console him. Gently, he pushed me back down.
Ashlundt straightened himself in his chair and looked up at his friend. “You won’t tell me where she is? Is she at UCLA?”
Dr. Hines averted his eyes and stared at his coffee cup. “I’m so sorry, Ash. I won’t say anymore. I’ve already violated her trust enough.”
Ashlundt stood and placed his empty cup in the nearby trash. “Well, thanks for being honest, Bruce. I gotta go now. Gotta figure out what to tell the police tomorrow.”
He took my leash and pulled me away. I turned back to the table. I could tell that Dr. Hines was probably equally as upset as we were.
Ashlundt was unusually silent on the way home. I expected he would make frantic calls to all of Sara’s friends, especially Debi… or try to find her at UCLA now.
But, something I hadn’t expected happened. Ashlundt changed into a pair of sweat pants, crawled into bed and wrestled with his blankets for hours until finally falling asleep. My instincts told me that his search for Sara had ended tonight. That his attempt to track her down concluded with the revelation of her hidden illness. He was no longer filled with worry about her disappearance. Now, he was angry and pained that she had left him without telling the truth.