Page 67 of The Women of Oak Ridge
“Same.” He handed back the printed news article. “I went through records and logs for the entire year of 1945. This is the only thing I found with Morrison’s name. There wasn’t anythingabout your aunt, which is good news. That means they never charged her with starting the fire.”
“That’s a relief.” I held the two documents side by side. “I wish I could ask Aunt Mae about all of this, but I don’t want to upset her. It’s probably nothing, especially if the military police didn’t pursue it. Besides, it happened over thirty years ago. It has no relevance to anyone today.”
“You’re right, but...” His voice trailed.
“But what?”
“The cop in me suspects there’s more to the story. What that might be, I don’t know. But you’re right. It happened a long time ago.”
I gathered my things and we made our way outside. Brilliant sunshine and temperatures in the low eighties created a perfect summer day. His police cruiser was parked next to my Camaro in the parking lot, the windows down, something you wouldn’t see in Boston. Delinquents had no qualms about filching from an unattended vehicle, including a police car.
“My mom got home last night,” he said with a grin. “She wasn’t happy when she found out about dad’s injury. He’s doing everything he can to appease her. She loves entertaining, so Dad’s going to fire up the barbeque grill tomorrow and invite some folks over. I was hoping you could join us. Your aunt, too, if she’d like to come.”
“That sounds fun. I’ll check with Aunt Mae to see if she has any plans and let you know.”
A male voice came over the radio from inside the police car, interrupting us. “I’ve got a 10-52 at the intersection of Illinois Avenue and Oak Ridge Turnpike. Fifty-six-year-old driver. Name is Maebelle Willett.”
I gasped. “Jonas, that’s Aunt Mae. What does he mean by a 10-52?”
He didn’t answer as he reached into the police car through the open window and grabbed the radio microphone.
“10-4. This is Tyson. What’s the situation?”
Static sounded, then the man on the other end said, “We have a 10-50 in progress, blocking the intersection.”
Sirens sounded before he cut off.
“10-4. I’m on my way.”
I didn’t wait for him to explain. “What’s going on, Jonas? Is Aunt Mae all right?”
When he faced me, he wore a look of concern. “She’s been involved in a car accident. They’ve called for an ambulance.”
I sucked in a breath and covered my mouth.
“Why don’t you come with me? I can get you there faster.”
We jumped into his vehicle. Jonas flipped a switch that turned on flashing lights and a siren, then tore out of the library parking lot. Cars pulled over to let us by, and I was grateful he’d volunteered to take me to the scene. All the while, I prayed Aunt Mae wasn’t seriously injured.
Two other police cars and an ambulance were on scene when we arrived.
“Let me find out what’s going on before you get out of the car, okay?” Jonas reached a hand to touch my shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”
He didn’t wait for an answer and exited the vehicle. I watched him stride over to where the ambulance was parked. From where I sat, I couldn’t tell if anyone was inside the emergency transport or not.
Not far from the ambulance, I saw Aunt Mae’s car, stopped in the middle of the intersection. It faced away from me and looked perfectly fine from this vantage point. However, another car sat across from it, the damage obvious. While I couldn’t be certain, it looked like Aunt Mae had broadsided the vehicle on the passengerside. A man stood a few paces from it with a uniformed police officer, his hands motioning as he spoke.
Jonas soon returned and slid into the driver’s seat.
“Is she okay?” I asked, my voice wavering.
He pressed his lips. “She’s pretty banged up, but the paramedic is hopeful her injuries aren’t life-threatening.”
Tears sprang to my eyes. “Can I see her?”
“They’re transporting her to the hospital now. We’ll follow.”
We drove behind the ambulance, lights flashing on both emergency vehicles. When we reached the hospital, Jonas pulled into a parking space while the ambulance headed for the ER entrance. We rushed over as the attendants brought Aunt Mae into the building on a wheeled gurney, with one of them explaining her condition to the doctor on duty as they sped down the hall. A blanket covered her up to her neck, and her head was swathed in a bandage. Her eyes were closed and her face had no color, causing my heart to race with fear.
