29

“How well do you know Bart Dover?” Tess asked Oliver.

“Pretty well. He’s a regular church attender and I’ve dedicated all of his children.” He paused and looked away.

“What is it?”

“He tried to help Tilly. It was just too much. She is so often not in her right mind that he feared for his children. We thought tough love would have an impact, wake her up, but . . . well, that hasn’t been the case.”

Tess shook her head. “Not your fault, not his fault. I dealt with so many homeless people in Long Beach with mental issues. No one has the best answer for how to help them. They fall through the cracks too easily. And drug abuse issues exacerbate the problem. If I were a parent, I’d think my first priority would be my children. I don’t blame Bart for giving up.”

“Anna never gave up on her. She prayed with her often and tried to direct her to programs that would help her beat the addiction. Tilly was never ready to take that step to sobriety.”

“And they can’t be forced. If they don’t want the help, it will never stick.” She got up. “I’m going to have a talk with Mr. Dover. With any luck, he might have an idea where I’m likely to find his sister.”

Oliver stood. “I’m going with you.” Before Tess could raise an objection, he said, “He might be more forthcoming with me there.”

Tess thought about that for a moment and then agreed. The family might be more inclined to talk if it meant helping Pastor Macpherson.

The Dovers had several acres on the western boundary of Rogue’s Hollow. They grew pears and peaches and touted that everything was organic. Tess drove west past Wild Automotive on River Drive. She passed residential streets on her left—Broken Wheel, Baldwin, Deerfield, and Anglers Lane, streets that wound back into the hills, the area of Rogue’s Hollow where larger homes and property were.

The Dover farm was at the end of River Drive, and Tess drove slowly down the gravel driveway, noting that there were several pickers tending to the pear trees. She hadn’t seen Bart Dover since her swearing in. She guessed he was in his early thirties, but he looked older. He worked hard; she could still remember the rough, hard feel of his hand when he’d shaken hers. He was wiping his face with a rag when they pulled up to the house. In front of his house was his truck, Dover’s Pears and Peaches written on the side.

He frowned when they parked and got out of the cruiser. There were four kids of various ages playing in the yard. They all stopped what they were doing to stare. A woman came out onto the porch. Tess recognized Jessica Dover. She’d brought a blackberry pie to the swearing in. It was the first fresh berry pie Tess had ever eaten and it was heavenly.

Bart stepped toward them. “Pastor Mac, you coming here with the police—well, that can’t be good.”

Tess realized he probably thought the worst about his sister.

“No tragedy, Bart. We’re trying to find Tilly and wondering if you have any idea where she might be. You know Chief O’Rourke.”

He nodded and sighed heavily. “Well, for a minute there I thought you were going to tell me she was dead. She might as well be. Chief, I told her in no uncertain terms to stay away from me and my family the last time she was here. I felt sorry for her, but she left her drug stuff out, and I found my youngest playing with a coke pipe. You can understand I don’t need that stuff around here.”

“I do understand, Mr. Dover. But it’s important that I find Tilly as soon as possible. Anything you can tell me might help.”

He played with the rag in his hands for a few seconds. “The only person I know who could help you is Glen. And I heard what happened to him.”

Weariness seemed to settle over him, and he leaned against his truck. “It’s sad, really. Tilly was always the smart one. I was the one who struggled in school while she sailed through. Mom died when we were little. Dad raised us. He expected great things from her. But something isn’t right in her head, and when he died—” His voice caught, and for a second Tess felt the pain he’d been dealing with for probably too long resonate within her.

He cleared his throat. “Well, she lost all touch with reality. She stopped taking her legal medicine and started up with the illegal stuff, and you know the rest. Just glad he’s not around to see it.”

He shoved the rag in his pocket. “I’m sorry, Chief, but I don’t know where she is. I doubt she’ll come to me, but if I do see her, I’ll call you right away.”

–––

They left the Dover farm and drove back to the station in silence. Tess could understand the man wanting to protect his family from what Tilly had become. Too often people with mental issues ended up self-medicating and becoming a faceless smudge in the homeless world. They became a police problem when the police had no resources to deal with them. Whose problem were they really?

She was considering the situation when a 911 dispatcher came over the radio with a call for Rogue’s Hollow, a call to aid an injured woman. Tess turned it up, and she and Oliver listened as Del answered and requested clarification.

“Anonymous 911 call, requested assistance, stating there is an injured female on the east side of Midas Creek, below the Stairsteps. Paramedics are asking for more information, a better location, and what type of injuries. The caller disconnected. NFD.”

No further details.

Tess was all ears. Del indicated he was en route and would advise. He must have cleared the accident he was on earlier.

“Do you think that could be Tilly?” Oliver asked.

“I’m not sure, but I’m very interested in what Del has to say.”

After a few minutes, Del asked the dispatcher to raise Tess on the air.

“I copy, Boy-1,” she said into the radio mike.

“Chief, we got a body, a woman.”

Tess looked at Macpherson, saw him pale as they waited for Del to continue.

“I’m below the Stairsteps. In some brush. She’s a few feet from the creek and barely breathing, but you better get down here.”