Speaking in Tongues

believe the bald facts in front of him?
    A dark mood began to settle on Matthews but he struggled to throw it off.
    No, I have no time for this now! Fight it, fight it, fight it . . .
    (He thought of how many patients he’d wanted to grab by the lapels and shake as he shouted, Oh, quit your fucking complaining! You don’t like her, leave. She left you? Find somebody else. You’re a drunk, stop drinking.)
    And closing his eyes fiercely, clenching his fists until a nail broke through the flesh of his palm, he struggled to remain emotionally buoyant. After a few minutes he forced the mood away. He returned to the phone and called three Walkers in Fairfax before he got the household that included a teenage Amy.
    “Yes, Amy’s my daughter,” the woman’s cautious voice said. “Who’s this?”
    “I’m William McComb, with the county. I’ve gotten a call from Child Protective Services.”
    “My God, what’s wrong?”
    “Nothing to be alarmed at, Mrs. Walker. This doesn’t involve your daughter. We’re investigating a case involving Megan McCall.”
    “Oh, no! Is Megan all right? She spent the night here!”
    “That’s what we understand. It seems she’s missing and we’ve been looking into some allegations about her father.”
    There was a moment’s pause.
    “Tate Collier,” Matthews prompted.
    “Oh, right. I don’t know him. You think he’s involved? You think he did something?”
    “We’re just looking into a few things now. But I’d appreciate it if you’d tell your daughter she shouldn’t have any contact with him.”
    “Why would she have any contact with him?” the edgy voice asked. How easily she’ll cry, Matthews predicted.
    “We don’t think there’d be any reason for him to hurt or touch her . . .”
    “Oh, God. You don’t think?”
    “We just want to make sure Amy stays safe until we get to the bottom of what happened to Megan.”
    “ ‘Happened to Megan’? Please tell me what’s going on.”
    “I can’t really say any more at this time. Tell me, where’s your daughter now?”
    “Upstairs.”
    “Would you mind if I spoke to her?”
    “No, of course not.”
    A moment later a girl’s lazy voice: “Hello?”
    “Hi, Amy. This is Mr. McComb. I’m with the county. How are you?”
    “Okay, I guess. Like, is Megan okay?”
    “I’m sure she’s fine. Tell me, has Megan’s father talked to you recently?”
    “Um,” the girl began.
    “You answer,” the mother said sternly from a second phone.
    “Yeah, like, he said she’s missing and asked meabout her. He was going to come by and get her book bag.”
    “So he’s interested in what’s in her bag? Did you get the impression he was concerned with what might be inside?”
    “Like, maybe.”
    The mother: “You were going to let him in here? And not tell me?”
    The girl snapped, “Mom, just, like, cut it out, okay? It’s Megan’s dad.”
    Matthews said sternly, “Amy, don’t talk to him. And whatever you do, don’t go anywhere with him.”
    “I—”
    “If he suggests going away, getting into his car, going into his barn . . .”
    “God, his barn?” her mother gasped. Yep, Matthews could hear soft weeping.
    He continued, “Amy, if he offers you something to drink . . .”
    Another gasp.
    Oh my, this was fun. Matthews continued calmly, “. . . whatever he says tell him no. If he comes over don’t answer the door. Make sure it’s locked.”
    “Like, why?”
    “You don’t ask why, young lady. You do what the man says.”
    “Mom, like, come on . . . What about her book bag?”
    “You just hold on to it until you hear from me or someone at Child Protective Services. Okay?”
    “I guess.”
    “Should we call the police?” Mrs. Walker asked.
    “No, it’s not a criminal charge yet.”
    “Oh, God,” said Amy’s mother, the woman of the limited epithets. Then: “Amy, tell me. Did Megan’s father ever touch you? Now, tell the truth.”
    “Who? Megan’s father? Mom, you’re such a loser. I never even met him.”
    “Mrs. Walker?”
    “Yes. I’m here.” Her voice cracked.
    “I really don’t want to alarm you unnecessarily.”
    “No, no. We appreciate your calling. What’s your number, Mr. McComb?”
    “I’m going to be in the field for a while. Let me call you later, when I’m back at the office.”
    “All right.”
    Matthews felt a cheerful little twinge as he heard her crying. Though Amy’s silence on the other extension was louder.
    He couldn’t resist.