by Dallis Adams
“That’s probably true,” she replied thoughtfully. “Still. I like Creed. And they are his brothers. I’m sure he wants his brothers problems to be alleviated. Perhaps I can try to see what can be done. I can certainly look into the problem.”
“Why don’t you start now? Travel to San Francisco. See if you can meet with Horatio Howell, the owner of Evenlight Express.”
Stunned, she simply stared at him. “But … but what about solving Doc Elroy’s murder? I’ve been exonerated but we are nowhere close to solving who did kill him.”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“Of course I do,” she replied without waiting a beat, wondering what trust had to do with anything.
“Let me find the murderer. After all, I’m the Sheriff.”
“But I can help.”
“Uma,” Jack said quietly. “Somebody is trying to hurt you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you forgetting that the murderer tried to get you blamed for Doc Elroy’s death?”
“No, of course not.” There he was again, trying to smother her with his overprotective demeanor. “But I can protect myself.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I’m going hunting for the killer and I don’t want to be looking over my shoulder, watching over you, and worrying about you. I’m the law and I’m glad I’ve been elected for the position of Sheriff, now more than ever.”
“Forget San Francisco. I’m not going anywhere until Doc Elroy’s murderer is identified and apprehended.” She shrugged, and rolled over, away from him, intending to get up and get dressed. “Besides, I want to look over my inheritance that I got from Doc Elroy. Maybe there are clues in his vardo. He had photos of my mother that he was going to share with me. I would like to see them. Take inventory of the things he gave me. Oh! And Loki. I want to make sure he’s alright and taken care of.”
“I haven’t even thought of Loki.” He climbed out of bed and reached for his pants. “Surely Orchilo and Luther have been looking after him.”
“If not them, maybe Harvey is. After all, he’s been hounding me to either give or sell Loki to him. So, are Orchilo and Luther back together?”
“Of course. Orchilo got tired of Manfri and ran him off. She said his intelligence didn’t match his brawn.”
She fastened her tight-fitting pink-and-green sprigged blouse, making sure the item was right-side out and the buttons were lined up. Then she looked in the wardrobe and found a matching, forest-green skirt. “What about Law Number Thirty? The Courtship Law?”
“She says it doesn’t apply since Manfri isn’t a true Cryptian.”
Sitting down on the side of the bed to put on her lady’s boots, she thought about Orchilo and her mercurial moods. “At Doc Elroy’s spiel, she told Luther Cryptic Cove citizenship didn’t matter.”
Jack shrugged. “Orchilo was mad at Luther then.”
She finished lacing up the dark brown footwear and stood. “Well, Orchilo is a force to be reckoned with and I sometimes feel sorry for Luther.”
“He not innocent. He can stir the pot. He brings a lot of her ire on himself.” He looked at her. “So. After you visit Doc’s vardo and look after Loki, will you go to San Francisco? Start looking into Rishley and Tye’s claim that the blueprints are theirs and that Evenlight Express took them without recompense?”
She’d told him that she was staying until Doc’s murderer was found. But she didn’t want to argue with him, not so soon after she’d been freed. “Maybe. Ask me after I finish with Doc’s inventory and seeing to Loki.”
His shoulders sagged, and he dropped his head.
In four strides, she had her arms around him. She cupped his cheeks and nuzzled his nose with her own. “I love you. And I appreciate your concern because you love me. But I’m not leaving. At least, not today. Or tomorrow. I want to enjoy my freedom, to get back to teaching at the schoolhouse, instead of from a jail cell. Too, I want to visit Zada. Make sure that Rosia and Orlando are giving Zada good family time. I need to visit the rest of the students’ homes to make sure they know to come to the schoolhouse on Monday. Even though I held class from my cell, it was only part time, and not the quality of teaching that I usually do.” She’d held class earlier that morning, but not for long. She was glad it was Friday. She would have the weekend to visit families. “And Lala. I want to spend time with her. Too, don’t forget that I’m good at defensive moves. I know how to protect myself. And I will be near Caravan Row. Members of Cojocaru are always around.”
“Will you at least find Orchilo, Lala or Luther? Ask one of them to be with you? You can catch up with them that way.”
She didn’t want to. Even though she’d been alone for hunks of time, stuck in the jail cell, she wanted freedom to look through her new belongings, to think about the mother she didn’t remember, to spend time with Loki. She didn’t want to feel like someone had to be with her, watching her every move. It was too much like being locked up. But she sighed and reluctantly gave in. “Fine. I’ll go by their vardos and see if one of them can join me before going to Doc’s caravan.”
“Alright then. I’m heading to the Kincaid Mansion. I need to talk to Chuck.”
“Glad I’m not you,” she teased. “Don’t say hello to Chuck for me.”
“Yeah, thanks a lot. There’s another fellow who makes me want to wring his neck.”
“We might have to go on the run after all, if you do that.”
“I’ll abstain. He’s not worth getting on the wrong side of the law.” He leaned down and kissed her passionately, bending her backward to do so.
She delighted over his mouth upon hers, how his tongue explored the underside of her lower lip.
Then he set her uprights and reluctantly stepped away. “Be careful. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Twenty-One
“If you’re looking for my mother, she’s at Thistle Do Nicely, working on refinishing furniture,” Chuck said as a way of announcing his entry into the parlor.
Jack had been studying the layout of the drawing room. A baby grand piano that set along the west wall. The walls were papered with large peach and pink flowers on a yellow background. An ornate armoire stood in the long room. A fireplace was on the far wall in the middle of the room. One set of furniture had a sofa that was covered with peach and green swirled fabric. An Elizabethan chair had a light pink chiffon fabric. Across from it was a low-backed, green-velvet chair. A huge painting of George Kincaid hung next to an oil of Celeste. The pair had made a handsome couple. The oil of Uma’s mother, Suzette, hung on the other side. Jack studied the oil painting. Suzette’s chin was rounder, softer. Uma’s face, however, had beautiful bone structure given her high cheek bones and sharp jaw line.
“I just saw your mother,” Jack replied.
“Then you’re here to see me.” Chuck motioned toward a curio cabinet painted a soft lime green and pale yellow, the doors illustrating a scene of Lilith’s Lighthouse on a craggy cliff. “Speaking of Mother … this is her latest piece. I didn’t think she would be good at refinishing furniture when she decided to pursue the craft, but she surprised me.”
“It’s beautiful,” Jack replied. “Yes, she’s very talented.”
“So, what can I do for you?”
He turned toward Chuck. “Your mother came to my office this morning and told me that she shot Doc Elroy.”
“Yeah?” Chuck said, crossing his arm. “Well, he didn’t die from it. And he can’t press charges against my mother because he’s dead by somebody else’s hand. So I don’t know why you’re here.”
“I’m here because, according to your mother, you visited Doc Elroy after Celeste shot him.” Actually she’d insinuated Chuck had gone to see Doc Elroy after she’d arrived back home, shaken and disheveled. Anyway, that was how Jack took it when she’d said Chuck announced he would take care of the situation.
Still crossing his arms, Chuck studied Jack. “So you think I finished him off after my mother did a botch job?
”
He wasn’t going to back down, no matter how belligerent Chuck became. “Did you?”
“No. But I considered it.”
Jack looked up, surprised that Chuck would admit to such a thing.
Chuck shrugged in a show of indifference. Yet his shoulders sagged and there was a pall that surrounded him. “Even though there was no love lost between old man George and me, my mother loved her second husband, and I don’t like to see her grieving. After the shooting a week ago, she seems more at peace, like the sharp edge of her grieving has smoothed out, if that makes sense. She still refuses to court anybody, but I’m hopeful. Jack, I love my mother. And if killing Doc Elroy would have helped her get over her mourning, I would have. But killing him wouldn’t bring George back. I decided his punishment would only be served while he was still living. With Uma on his back, I knew she would give him hell. Not that I ever believed Uma had killed Doc Elroy. Unless one could be killed with her badgering. Anyway, I was glad to hear she was released from jail, and that Marshal Spivey is gone.”
“Oh? And how did you hear of her release?”
“Betty went shopping and heard about through Orchilo. You know how word travels fast here in Cryptic Cove.”
“So what happened when you went to see Doc Elroy after your mother had shot him?”
“I found him bandaging his own shoulder. In fact, I helped him wrap the gauze around it and tied it off. The wound was a through-and-through, mainly on the top of his shoulder. I told him that I would give him recompense if he would keep my mother’s shooting of him secret. But he declined the money, and said no worries. That the shooting would remain between the three of us. He hoped Celeste would forgive him someday.”
Jack remembered something that Uma had told him after she’d had a discussion with Creed when the pair had both been locked up. “So after your visit with Doc Elroy, why did you go to the copper foundry and pick a fight with Creed? He said it was unusual for you to do so.”
Chuck took a deep breath, as if the mention of Creed’s name was trying. “Because he’s a cocky son of a gun. He made a snide comment about Mother’s artwork the previous day and it just soured me the longer I thought about it. I decided to put him in his place. He needed a kick in the pants.”
Jack supposed that could be the case. “But why did you antagonize him into hitting you?”
Chuck shrugged. “I wanted him locked up, at least for a while to take that ego down a peg or two. Getting hit was worth it.”
Still trying to get a handle on their relationship, Jack decided to ask one more question, not that it had anything to do with finding the killer. “If you think he’s cocky and disrespectful, why did you put him in charge of the foundry when you were gone?”
“Because, drat him, the man is good at taking responsibility. The other workers respect him and follow his orders. And I can berate him if things go wrong when he’s leading. When I’m running the place, he just occasionally forgets his place and spouts off the first thing that comes to his mind.”
He decided Chuck was telling the truth. “Let’s go back to your visit with Doc. While you were there, did you see anybody around Doc’s vardo?”
Chuck pulled on his earlobe, his expression faraway. “When I was on my way to Doc’s, Thora was leaving her caravan with Tawni. The crazy seamstress … Rosia? … was shooting at Orlando, but her shot was wide. The bullet hit a tree instead. Luther was next to his caravan, chopping wood. I think he was hacking at wood as an outlet for his anger at Orchilo, who was flirting with a burly man I don’t know. She was packing a bag, and he was showing off his arm muscles for her entertainment.”
Jack resisted rolling his eyes. “It was probably Manfri, the new Strongman.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
It was no secret that Chuck disparaged the carnies. Too bad, since the majority of the citizens of Cryptic Cove came from Cojocaru’s. Carnies were dramatic, and sometimes Jack’s tolerance was stretched thin. But most of the time, he enjoyed their eccentrics. He never understood the Chuck’s prejudice. Maybe it was because as a child Chuck was discouraged from doing carnival tricks or socializing with the carnies. Old man George didn’t want to lose Chuck to the circus. “Did you see anybody else?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Chuck said slowly, tapping his jaw. “No, wait. The drunk. He was just past the tree line beyond Doc’s vardo, checking out Doc’s old horse. Oh, and Gildie sat at the end of Caravan Row with her father, practicing a song on her guitar.”
Rick Ridley and his daughter, Gildie, lived in a vardo on the far side of Caravan Row. As musicians, they often practiced at the east side of the tree line that bordered the edge of Cryptic Cove. “The drunk’s name is Harvey.”
“Of course. Harvey.” Chuck started pulling on his earlobe again. “Now, that struck me as strange. Why would that old drunk be messing with Doc Elroy’s nag?”
Why, indeed? “He’s been trying to buy the horse from Uma.”
“Why? The animal is on its last leg as far as I can tell. I think it’s sick. The nag’s coat looked lackluster, an almost gray shade.”
Jack looked down at his rugged boots, considering the past. “Didn’t Harvey used to perform his horse tricks in a show with Doc Elroy? If so, I wasn’t around. At the time I was traveling with Cojocaru, in charge of the law. So I never saw the show. But it seems like I remember somebody mentioning it. Do you remember it?”
“Come to think of it, yes,” Chuck said, rubbing the side of his face. “He did go into business with Doc Elroy for a short while. He called himself Doctor Travers at the time. The show was called Wild Hog and The Doc. That must have been ten years ago. But when Doc came to Cryptic Cove to treat George, Harvey wasn’t with him.”
“Why not?”
Chuck shrugged. “Doc said Harvey was recovering from a sprained ankle.” Chuck played with a tassel that hung from a nearby lamp that sat on the armoire. “As a matter of fact, I think coming to Cryptic Cove ten years ago was the last time I heard of Wild Hog and The Doc performing in California.”
A nasty suspicion started to form in Jack’s mind. He held out his hand. “Thanks for your help, Chuck.”
Chuck accepted the handshake. “Anytime. Hope you find the killer. We don’t need another one in Cryptic Cove.”
“You’ve got that right.” He let himself out of the mansion and took two steps down at a time off the veranda. The urge to hurry was ticking the small hairs on the back of his neck.
He remembered how Harvey sometimes bunked in the storage room at the back of The Wandering Axe, although lately Harvey had been sleeping off his drunkenness in jail. But not in the past week. Not since Uma had been forced to reside there. Which, in turn, caused Jack to spend the night with Uma.
With ground-eating strides, he marched into the tavern. Harlan Wolfe, the owner, glanced up from wiping down the Redwood bar, his expression startled. “Hey, Jack. What’s going on?”
“Sorry for the intrusion, Harlan. But I need to look in your store room, the one where Harvey sleeps.”
“Alright. Sure.” Harvey set down his rag and led the way.
The room was gloomy but the window let in some light. Barrels of whiskey were stacked behind a locked cage on one side. Extra glasses were on a shelf. Various bottles of spirits lined another. They were also barred and locked.
Jack nodded toward them. “Smart.”
“Yeah,” Harlan replied with a snort. “When Harvey wanted to stay in here, I had to lock up the booze. Otherwise, he would drink me out of business.”
A rumpled blanket lay in one corner.
“What are you looking for?” Harlan asked.
Jack picked up the blanket. There laid the horse brow band. The copper sheathing gleamed with the name Twilightbolt. He held it up for Harlan to see. “This.”
“Twilightbolt. Wasn’t that the name of Midnightbolt’s colt? The horses Harvey rode for his tricks when he was part of Wild Hog and The Doc Show?”
“Precisely.” He kne
w the motive. Which pointed to the identity of the killer. Jack had seen the beautiful brow band in Doc’s medicinal caravan shortly before he was murdered.
It was Harvey who had killed Doc. Harvey who had framed Uma. Because of the horse, a horse that was being disguised as an older mount. And Uma was walking into trouble.
Twenty-Two
Loki munched on some clover in the Redwoods. Uma could see him among the towering trees. The patch of leafy goodness grew close to the stream, which was about fifty yards from Doc Elroy’s caravan. On the way to Loki, she had tried to abide by Jack’s wishes and looked for Orchilo, Lala and Luther to see if anybody wanted to go with her to Doc Elroy’s place. But nobody had been at home. So she went alone.
She loved Jack, but he worried too much. Especially when there was trouble in town. He wanted to constantly watch over her. Which chafed. Didn’t he understand that he was freeing her from one cage and putting her in another?
Uma couldn’t stop thinking about the horse. He was old, at least, he seemed that way the one time she was able to see him before she got locked up. Thank goodness Marshal Spivey finally left. Strange how everything happened on the same day.
Celeste threatening to contact Spivey’s boss to get him out of town. The hunter, Marco Dragavei, coming into the Sheriff’s Office to say he saw her in the woods, two miles from Doc Elroy’s vardo at the time Doc was being poisoned. And then the train robbery, a crime that demanded the Marshal’s attention. Who would have guessed all that would happen in such a short time span? Of course that last one had been instigated by Jack. Warmth spread through her at the thought of Jack having her back. They really were a team, and she vowed to live up to her side of the pairing. She would protect Jack just as he protected her. At least she could play detective and help him keep Cryptic Cove safe.
When the old paint saw Uma, he raised his head and nickered in greeting, bobbing his head as if nodding hello. Then the horse frisked around in a circle, kicking up his legs, as if showing off for her, very unlike the horse she’d seen before she’d been locked up.
