New to The Dalton Files? Start at The Empty Envelope and follow the leads here.

Case File #2:

I didn’t want to do it, but I had to. Today I will need to confront part of my past. If I am ever going to find Mary Dolen, this is where I have to start. Sure, I had friends there at one time, or at least one friend, but that was long ago and I burned many bridges. I don’t think anybody was sad to see me go.

But I locked myself in mentally and prepared for what was coming next. I made the long slow drive in my Ford Deluxe to the police station. I pulled into the parking lot outside the police station and sat in the car for a while. I almost wished I still drank, because I could use one to take the edge off, but that’s no longer an option.

Instead, I nervously lit a cigarette and said a quick prayer asking for the courage to face this part of my past for the first time. There’s nothing like diving straight into the lion’s den. Hopefully God will shut the mouths of the lions. Especially that one lion that was always at the front desk. The mouth that roared. I wonder if he still works there.

I finally worked up the courage to go face one of my demons. I got out of the car and began walking slowly toward the police station with my head down and the collar of my trench coat up.

I paused, took a deep breath, and walked through the door. There was Hank at the front desk. HANK of all people. I figured he would probably still be there, but I had hoped maybe he moved on from Desk Sergeant.

This meeting was going to take all the grace I could muster.

Hoping he wouldn’t recognize me, I pulled my fedora down over my face slightly and walked toward the desk. I was trying to look inconspicuous, but it probably made me look more suspicious.

As I neared the desk I was thinking, I can’t believe he still works here! Yes, actually I can, what else would this guy be able to do? I knew that was the wrong thing to think, but I still fight these intrusive thoughts.

Hank looked up from the report he was pretending to read and, with a sandwich still hanging out of his mustard-stained mouth, said, “Yeah, what is–well look who it is! The prodigal son returns.” Then, tauntingly, “The bar’s across the street pal.”

“Listen, I don’t need–” But then that new voice inside my head stopped me and reminded me to be slow to speak and slow to anger. I took a deep breath and said, “It’s been a long time, Hank. I’m not the same person I used to be. I’ve changed. I know I don’t deserve it, but give me a chance. I’m looking for a woman I used to know.”

“If you’re looking for a dame, try vice,” said Hank, trying to antagonize me. For once, I didn’t take the bait, but I almost did. “Listen, Hank,” I said, sounding a little more angry than I meant, “I need to find the woman who changed my life five years ago.”

“Why did you let her get away if she was so important to you?”

That struck a nerve as I thought back briefly to the beach. I pictured Martha’s hand slipping away. Hank knew about the beach, and he either didn’t care about the wound he was digging up, or he wasn’t smart enough to understand he should hold his tongue.

One of those intrusive thoughts entered my head. It was probably the latter, he wasn’t smart enough to understand. I pushed the thought away and tried again, but he had gone over the speed limit.

I paused, took another deep breath, and began to threaten him. “You’re lucky I’m not the same person I was when I was on the force or–” I calmed myself down. “Or what?” Hank chimed in. For once I was glad Hank interrupted me, I was about to say something I would regret.

“God help me,” I quickly prayed and tried again, “Look, are you going to let me go to the Public Records Department or not? This woman helped lead me to Christ and I’ll be praying that you one day find Him as well.”

That was tough for me, I’m still uncomfortable talking about my faith, especially to someone who I knew would be antagonistic. But at the same time, I knew it would make Hank uncomfortable. I relished the opportunity to make Hank uncomfortable even though I knew it was wrong. Why do I keep acting like this?

“Well, well, well, when did you become a Jesus freak?” Hank was taken aback and became visibly uncomfortable at the mention of religion. The police station was his church. I could tell he just wanted to get me out of his hair, “Right down the hall pal, just don’t give me any more of that Jesus stuff. I ain’t buying it. People don’t change. You were on the force long enough to know that.”

Hank was right about one thing. That was something I said to myself a million times before that night Mary Dolen appeared, people don’t change. Now I know people can and do change. And sometimes even for the better.

I walked down the hallway and knocked on the door of the Public Records Department, wondering if Babs still–Barbara opened the door before I could finish my thought. “Hank called and said you were here, but I didn’t believe it! I thought he was pulling my leg, you know Hank…”

Barbara was the one friendly face I had in the department when I was canned, but I was unsure how she’d feel about seeing me after the way I left. I didn’t exactly make it easy on anyone, including her.

She answered that question quickly. She threw her arms around me and said, “I’m so glad to see you, I have been praying for you for years. How are you doing?” I looked at her and said, “I couldn’t be better, Babs. It’s good to see you.”

“What brings you back here after all this time?” The question made perfect sense, she must have been stunned to see me come through that door. I joked, “I couldn’t stay away from you any longer, Babs, so here I am. I’m only half joking, I have missed you. You are the only person here that tried to understand what I was going through. You tried to help me, but I wasn’t ready.”

“But maybe now you can help me in another way, I’m looking for the woman who saved my life. She is responsible for helping me find God.” It was easier to share my faith with Barbara because I knew she was a Christian. I used to tease her about it back in the day.

She gave me a big kiss that left lip rouge on my cheek, “You’ve been saved?! Hallelujah! My prayers have been answered, we can’t gloss over this. We need to talk about this sometime. Anyway, what’s her name?”

“When I find who I’m looking for we’ll get together to talk about it. I promise.” She replied, “It’s a date. I’m going to hold you to it.” I knew she would.

“The woman I’m looking for is Ms. Mary Dolen.”

She scrunched her eyes as if the name rang a bell, “Mary Dolen… Mary Dolen…” she said, furrowing her brow and thinking out loud, “I know that name, but why?”

We dug through the files and found her name and her old address, but she had left years ago and there was no record of where she went. There was nothing on her record.

A dead end, but then it clicked and Babs remembered why she knew the name. “Mary Dolen was a member of my church years ago, but she suddenly disappeared one day and she never came back. We all wondered what happened to her. Perhaps you can try the church. It’s the congregational church on the other side of town. Do you know where it is?”

I knew these city streets like I knew the back of my hand, “Yes, I know where it is, thank you so much for your help.” She replied, “Don’t forget your promise.”

“It’s a date,” I affirmed.

It wasn’t much of a lead, but it’s all I had to go on, and I was grateful I had that much. I headed back toward the front desk. On my way out Hank pointed at the lip rouge on my cheek and yelled, “Hey pal, I see you did check vice. It looks like you found the woman you were looking for.” I bit my tongue, turned and said, half sarcastically, “God bless you, Hank” and I left the police station and headed toward Mary’s church…

Coming July 4th: The Dalton Files: At the Church