Bruja Brouhaha by Rochelle Staab

arm. “A moment, Dr. Torrico. I have to talk to Dr. Morales. He’s not returning my calls. Do you know where he is?”
    That was my Mom—she loved a compliment but not a dismissal.
    “He may be at the hospital with Dr. Perez,” Tony said.
    “He’s not,” Mom said. “I was with Carmen all morning. She hasn’t heard from him.”
    “Oh.” Tony hesitated. “How is Carmen?”
    “Resting comfortably, no thanks to Victor who doesn’t return
her
calls either. She’s worried and I’m disappointed, Dr. Torrico. Really, how rude. I expected Carmen’s business partner to be more responsive at a time like this.” Mom crossed her arms. “I hope his behavior doesn’t make the Cherries regret our decision to raise money for this clinic.”
    Tony glanced down the hall. Helen and an intern watched us from the nurse’s station. He set his hand on Mom’s shoulder. “Let’s talk about this in private, Mrs. Gordon.”
    He escorted us past the dispensary to his office. Mom and I settled into the guest chairs facing his desk and the array of wall photos. Tony sat across from us and folded his hands on his desk.
    “I can’t explain why Victor wasn’t at the hospital when you were there, Mrs. Gordon. Please don’t judge the clinic and all the work we do for the neighborhood by his failure to return a phone call. Today is his regular day off. It’s possible he had a prearranged commitment.” Tiny beads of perspiration glistened at his temples.
    I shifted in my seat. “Carmen’s emergency surgery threw us off. I think we expected Victor to step in to keep everyone calm and reassured.”
    “I promise you”—Tony pointed his finger at Mom—“Victor is a good man, dedicated to the clinic and to his friends. He’s had an extremely difficult week, Mrs. Gordon. His best friend was murdered, and Victor took on the responsibility of the funeral arrangements and care for the widow while managing his patients here. He could be home, resting, unaware that you’re trying to reach him. He would be devastated if his actions affected the fund-raiser. The Cherry Twists’ generosity and support will benefit hundreds of people in the years to come. What can I say or do to assure you all is well?”
    “Have him get in touch with me or Carmen,” Mom said.
    He breathed in, nodding. “I will. If you want, leave your number and I’ll let you know when I reach him.” Tony rose from his desk. “But I have patients waiting. You understand they come first.”
    I realized I hadn’t checked to see if Lucia had seen or heard from Victor. As Tony and Mom walked through the hall ahead of me, I phoned Lucia’s apartment.
    Cruz answered. “Lucia is taking a nap. She fell asleep right after her lunch.”
    “I’m across the street at the clinic. Has Dr. Morales called her or come over?”
    “He didn’t come. Lucia got a phone call last night. Do you want me to ask her if it was him?” Cruz said.
    “No, don’t bother her.”
    “Liz?” Helen Leonard waved me into the empty nurses’ station across from the exam rooms. “I heard you talking to Dr. Torrico about Dr. Morales. I haven’t heard from him either. The e-mail he sent Wednesday night was strange. I assumed he was busy. He usually checks in with me on days he doesn’t come to the clinic, and he calls me every Friday morning before he tees off. But he didn’t call—yesterday or this morning. I’m worried, too.”
    “Where does he golf?”
    “The Wilshire Country Club.” Helen clenched her hand, rubbing her wrist with her thumb. “He always tees off at eight thirty.”
    I did a quick search on my phone for the number, dialed, and asked for the starter.
    “Pro Shop, this is Chad.”
    “Hi. I’m trying to locate Victor Morales. Can you tell me if he played this morning? He would have teed off close to eight thirty,” I said.
    “I know Dr. Morales. Let me check.” Chad came back and said, “Nope. He wasn’t here this morning.”
    I hung up disappointed, but the