Frogskin and Muttonfat (A Thea Barlow Mystery, Book Two) Page 16

  “They should be in my purse, wherever that might be. Did you eat at Racy Ladies tonight?”

  “Yes. In fact, I joined Garland Caldwell and his wife for dinner. News gets around fast; he was quite concerned about you.”

  “He’s quite concerned about anything in skirts.”

  Max grinned. “Anyway, they send their best to you. He seems like a decent guy.” I rolled my eyes. “Well, a little gung-ho, maybe.” Max laughed. “He thinks he’s getting an inside look at the real wild west, and by now is expecting a shoot-out at every corner. And, of course, Buster doesn’t help, filling him full of crazy jade-hunting stories.”

  “He was there, too?”

  “Yes, but we can talk about all that later.” He got off the bed and reached for the food carriers. “This is from Sheila.”

  He swung the tray across my lap, whipped out napkins and silverware from the top container and arranged them on the tray. He took out the first dish and uncovered a thick, creamy slice of pate studded with capers and pine nuts, and ringed by an assortment of crackers. “This is for both of us. Sheila said you have to share.”

  From his pocket, he pulled the rose, which was drooping a bit by now, and propped it in my water glass. “This,” he said, placing it on the tray, “is from me.” He leaned over and kissed me tenderly and smoothed my hair away from my face.

  “We will talk about the serious things; I want to know exactly what happened to you,” he said softly, “but let’s make time for this, too. Okay? I about went crazy when I couldn’t find you in town this afternoon.”

  He sat back on the bed and, with elaborate flourishes, thickly spread a cracker and offered it to me.

  Heavenly. We dug in.

  We talked about the little things. His job, my job, how my parents were, our plans for the next few days, all the things we would have said to each other if there hadn’t been a Phoebe, or a murder, or Kid Corcoran. A small bowl of richly flavored consommé followed the pate, accompanied by thin triangles of pumpernickel.

  “Help,” I said, happily. “I have to rest, or I’ll never be able to eat again. I hope Sheila remembered that I’m an invalid.”

  “Yes, that’s why the consommé. I had the most incredible chowder over there tonight that I’ve ever eaten in my life.”

  “Thank you for this, Max. I didn’t realize how badly I needed some quiet time.”

  “Okay, we can talk now, then we’ll have the next course.” He moved the tray out of the way so he could sit closer to me. “I called the police, as you wanted me to, and Dwayne came out. The doc didn’t think you should be bothered tonight, so Dwayne will be back to see you in the morning. But he talked to Hildy and me. Or rather,” he said wryly, “Hildy talked to him. We told him what little we knew, that you’d gone to the country with the Kid, that either he, or some mysterious other person, bashed you on the head, and that now the Kid was missing.”

  “Did they go look for him?”

  “Well, that is the sheriff’s jurisdiction out there, so Dwayne called them. They were going to send a man out, but because the sheriff’s out of town and it’s a holiday weekend they’re understaffed. I don’t know how they settled it, but someone went out there to look for the Kid. They didn’t find any sign of him.”

  “But how hard did they look, Max?” All I could think of was all that land, all those weeds, all those buildings, all that junk. An elephant could have been hidden out there and not be found for a week.

  “I don’t know, Thea. We have to assume they know their job.”

  “But—”

  “I called again, before I came here. I know someone’s been to Corcoran’s ranch. I gave them a second set of keys to the Bronco. It’s still there, they locked it and I’ll get it back when they’re finished with it. The Kid hasn’t turned up. They claimed they did a thorough search, but I also got the distinct impression that they think he’s skipped out.”

  “What did Florie say?”

  “Not much,” he said. “I couldn’t figure her out. I told her everything I knew. Part of the time she seemed genuinely worried about the Kid, and at other times I got this kind of hidden elation about something. We didn’t connect.”

  “She’s not happy being burdened with her grandfather. I guess he just showed up one day, and here she is with an ex-con on her hands and the town in an uproar. I think she hopes he’ll be convicted of Phoebe’s murder and sent back to the pen. In fact, I think she’s pushing for it.”

  “Incredible. I’d never met the woman before. I’ve eaten there a couple of times, but mostly I stay in the country at the rig. I’ve met Rocky a time or two. Buster raves about the place; he likes his food. In fact, he’s the one who took me to dinner there the first time. He’s a great salt-of-the-earth kind of guy. I like him a lot. Do you know Buster?”

  I told him about the few times I’d met him. The frog skin and mutton fat. And how I first met Hildy the jade lady. “Did you know the buzz has it that the Kid killed Buster’s father?”

  “No kidding? When was this?”

  “A long time ago, I guess. ‘Forties, I think.”

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “From Hildy Gilstrom. Her daddy was one of the old jade men. Or, wait, maybe it was Jimmy Chin who actually told me about the murder and stolen jade.”

  “Jimmy Chin? What does he have to do with this?”

  “That’s what I’d like to know.” I was rather enjoying Max’s astonishment. There’s nothing like being the purveyor of choice bits of gossip, rumor and innuendo. “Jimmy claims to be disinterested, but there’s no love lost between him and the Kid.”

  “Hold on,” Max said, standing up and pacing. “I knew Buster’s dad was into jade, he still has some impressive pieces in his home, but he never said anything about murder, or stolen jade. He’s the one who told me about the Kid in the first place, didn’t say anything against him.” He stood, hands on hips, eyeing me with a mix of bewilderment and exasperation. “How in hell did you get messed up in all of this? Lord, woman, you haven’t been here two days yet.”

  So I told him everything. Well, everything except the Tarot stuff. Somehow I didn’t think he was ready for that.

  “I was so sure the Kid couldn’t have killed Phoebe that I had no qualms about taking him to the country. But the rumors proved right, the Kid had a stash of stolen jade buried in the old flower borders of his brother’s house. And I helped him dig it up.”

  “I can’t believe it, Thea. Why did you do it?”

  “I don’t know. It seemed so logical at the time. He told me the jade was his nest egg. He has a friend living in the nursing home here, named Kate. He doesn’t want to end up there as well, and I don’t blame him. He had plans for the two of them to move out to the old home place. Talk about the halt leading the blind. Still, it just tore my heart out.” I made one of those helpless gestures. I couldn’t believe myself, how easily I’d been taken in. “And I believed him when he said the jade was rightfully his.”

  Max sat back on the bed. “What made you change your mind?”

  “I recognized the last piece I dug up, a carving of a lotus bud. It’s called the Fingers of Buddha. Very strange looking piece.” I grimaced, remembering how I’d mistaken it for real bones. “There’s a replica of it in the Lotus Cafe, and I heard at great length from Jimmy Chin’s Auntie Lee how the real thing, and some other family heirlooms, had been stolen from them many years ago.”

  “You’re sure it was the same thing?”

  “Yes. I mean, how many jade masterpieces of Buddha’s Fingers would you expect to find in Rawhide, Wyoming?”

  He grinned. “So what did you do then?”

  “I accused him flat-out of lying to me.”

  “And he said?”

  “Nothing. I must admit I didn’t give him much opportunity. I was really steamed. I stomped off to the car, and next thing I knew I woke up in the ravine.”

  Again, he popped up and began pacing like a restless animal. “Did you see wh
at hit you?”

  “I saw something reflected in the car’s window, enough to make me duck. I thought it was the shovel, but whether I actually saw it or not, I’m not certain. When I came to and started remembering things, I know I believed that the Kid had whomped me with the shovel.”

  “Logical conclusion. He was the only one there.”

  “But now I’m not so sure, Max, and it really bothers me.”

  I told him about my unsettling exploration of the old house, or non-exploration. “I had a distinct feeling that I was not alone in that house, but it was more than that. How could the Kid have rolled, or even pushed, me into the gully? It’s not that close to the house. He doesn’t have the strength to drag me that far. I mean, I saw how just a few digs with the shovel nearly did him in.”

  “Could he have put you in the Bronco?”

  “He might have been able to hoist me onto the tailgate, drive to the edge and dump me over, but there weren’t any tire tracks. I was right there afterwards. I know I was pretty loony-tunes at the time, but even then things didn’t seem right. I looked; there weren’t any tire tracks anywhere around the edge of the gully.”

  We sat silent for a moment, contemplating possibilities.

  “The Bronco was moved from where I’d parked it.” I said, thinking out loud. “The jade we dug up was gone. If he wanted me out of the way so he could take off with the jade, why not just steal the car? I can’t help wondering if a vagrant wasn’t in the house watching us all the time. Maybe that person attacked me and the Kid, too, and took the jade.”

  “Vagrant, Thea? Come on, this isn’t Chicago. You don’t get casual vagrants thirty miles out in the country where there isn’t any food. But he could have had an accomplice, and they both took off with the loot.”

  “Yes, but then why bring me in on it? Why risk letting me in on his secret cache of jade, unless I was his only chance for retrieving it? He knew I was sympathetic.”

  “A patsy for any hard-luck story,” he said. I knew this wouldn’t be the last I’d hear of it. “You could have been killed.”

  “Well, maybe,” I said, sheepishly. “But—”

  “It’s not up to you, Thea, to figure any of this out.” He took my hands in his, massaging them lightly, running his fingers over the various cuts and scrapes. “That’s what the police are for—actually the sheriff’s department, now.”

  “Is the Sheriff back in town?”

  “No, not ‘til next week, but his deputies are on it.”

  “It’s just that I feel so responsible, Max. I have this awful feeling that the Kid might be lying in a ditch somewhere, injured like I was, but without a chance of saving himself.”

  “My sympathy’s at a low ebb. He may be an old man, but he’s no saint. He put you in an unfair position, and if he’s the one who whopped you, left you for dead. I’ll gladly wring his neck all by myself. He’s probably high-tailed it out of here with his precious jade. Leave it to the authorities, Thea. They’ll find him.”

  I sighed. I knew he was right. I smiled at him and asked, “So what’s the next course? I’m ready to eat again.”

  We finished the food, light, airy bluegill fillets that melted in the mouth, and berries with clots of fresh cream for dessert. My eyes were drooping.

  Max kissed me goodnight and brought me my purse from the closet. I found the two keys to Madam Juju in my billfold where I’d put them. I gave one to Max.

  “What did you do with the other key?” I asked sleepily. “The one Rocky gave you last night.”

  “I left it on the dresser for you. Didn’t you find it?”

  “No. I might have overlooked it, but I didn’t see it anywhere. Another missing key, Max.” But I was too sleepy to worry about it now.

  I awoke in the middle of the night feeling quite refreshed and perhaps a little too full of Sheila Rides Horse’s wonderful food. All my body parts seemed to be working surprisingly well, I thought, flexing my arms and legs. The shoulder was sore to the touch, but the arm felt quite alive and useful. Only the headache remained, but reduced to a much gentler throb. Of course, I looked like hell, with livid cuts, scratches and a crazy variety of Band-aids, half of which were the kiddie kind, scattered all over my arms and legs. Small price, I guess.

  I went to the bathroom, drank some water, paced around a bit and decided I was too restless to go back to bed yet. Slipping on the hospital-issue robe and scuffs, I wandered out into the hall.

  “Hi there,” said the night nurse as I walked past her desk. “You’re looking pretty good. How do you feel?”

  “Surprisingly well.”

  “Good. Let me know if I can get you anything.”

  Hers was a new face. She seemed pleasant and ready to talk. But I knew what the subject would be and I just couldn’t face going through all the details of Phoebe’s death again. I smiled my thanks and moved on. It felt good to move around and get some of the kinks worked out.

  I walked the corridors, what there were of them; it was a very small hospital. Each time I passed, I stopped at the nursery. Three little cribs were positioned close to the window. Two boys and a girl. The baby girl looked brand new. I rested my forehead against the cool glass, and lost myself in admiration. Yes, I thought, I would like this.

  I’d been moved by the love I’d seen in Phoebe’s parents for their daughter and for each other, and how they were using that love to find ways to fight their grief.

  And I thought about the rest of us who had once been this new. Phoebe, who hadn’t had her fair chance, me, Max. Gramps, who had given up, and the Kid, wherever he was, who wouldn’t go easily, and even old Kate down the hall. What a strange passage it was.

  I stretched, flexed my legs some more and opened the swinging doors at the end of the corridor enough to see what was on the other side. It was the connecting corridor to the nursing home wing with a nice long hallway. I pushed through the door, thinking I’d walk the long hall and maybe peek in on Kate. Few people were stirring at this time of night. I waggled my fingers at the two aides doing paperwork at a desk by the entry and went on my way.

  Kate’s door was open. She sat in her rolled-up bed watching a small television pulled up close to her eyes on a hospital-style lap tray. I couldn’t tell if she was awake or asleep.

  “Are you awake, Kate?” I said in not much more than a whisper.

  Her head bobbed up. “Who is it?” Nothing wrong with her hearing.

  “It’s Thea Barlow. I was here this morning (was it really just this morning?) with uh…” I wasn’t sure what to call him, then decided she probably knew him the same way as everyone else. “I was here with the Kid.”

  “Of course you were. I remember,” she said, defensively. “Did you bring me my lunch?”

  “No, it’s not quite time yet.” I vowed that the next time I visited I’d bring some snacks.

  “Come sit down, dear. Where’s the Kid? Didn’t he come with you?” She sounded very lucid.

  “No, not this time.” What could I say? I hated to promise he’d be here tomorrow, or any other time, when I was dreadfully afraid that none of us might ever see him again.

  She caught whatever hesitation lurked in my voice. “Did something happen to him?” She clutched at my hand apprehensively.

  “No, I…I just haven’t seen him recently, is all.”

  “Oh, dear.” She became increasingly agitated, twisting her fingers, worrying the enlarged knuckles. “They’re after him, you know.” Her voice quavered and her dim eyes flittered helplessly around the room. “Someone’s trying to kill him.”

  Twenty-One

  “Now, now,” I said, murmuring soothing sounds. Holding her hands gently in mine, I tried to quiet her fears while still discovering what she meant. “Tell me more about it, Kate. Who’s after him?” Did she really know something, or was this just another quirk of her mind?

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Some men, hoodlums, I imagine. They’re hunting him down. Gonna steal him blind.” Then she dropped he
r fear to register what sounded like a major annoyance. “He tells me these things, but he thinks I don’t remember,” she said indignantly. “I’m not as dumb as he thinks. He’s got lots of valuables and we got to keep them safe, so’s we can go home.”

  “Home? Where’s home, Kate?”

  “Why, out to the country,” she said, as if surprised that everyone didn’t know this. “He’s got a grand, big old house out to the country. Are we going home tonight? Are you going to help me get my things ready?”

  “Not tonight, Kate.” Had the Kid really promised her they’d live in that awful house? Whatever, she wasn’t going to forget the Kid’s grandiose plans as quickly as he thought. I massaged her knobby fingers.

  She chuckled, her mind quickly switching to another channel. “We was wild ones, I tell ya. Ol’ Fancy Pants, he’d come down to Plumber Street, sneak in an’ wait for me. Then we’d run off and go honky-tonking all night. Out to the old Forty Mile house. Do you remember that place? They had some fine bootleg. Oh, we had good times, all right.”

  “I’m sure you did,” I said, wondering how I could get her back on the subject of who was after the Kid without alarming her too badly. “Why do you call him Fancy Pants, Kate?”

  She puzzled that over a bit. “Can’t rightly remember. He had a likin’ for fine clothes, he did. Used to love them gambler’s-striped trousers, maybe that was it.” She chuckled again, replaying the good times. “Yep, he was Fancy Pants and I was Madame Juju.”

  “Madame Juju!”

  “Yes.” She sounded offended by my surprise. “Those railroad turks liked Frenchy stuff, so I gave it to them. Made me some good money, too. They was always asking special for me.”

  “You mean you were…uh…in Racy Ladies?”

  “Racy ladies! Ha ha,” she chortled, as if I’d made the joke of the century. “That’s a good one. You bet we were, honey.”

  I laughed, too. “No, I didn’t mean that. I meant the house where you lived, uh, worked.”

  “The house on Plumber Street.”