by Frank Hayes
“Anyway, Jimmy, where’s your boss? It’s that lady I’m calling about.”
“Well, Doc, can’t exactly say. He’s somewhere up on the High Lonesome looking for Charlie Thompson. Been gone two days now.”
“Do you think there’s any chance of cell phone service up there?”
“No way. He’s probably thirty miles away and up over three thousand feet. Is it something real important? I could maybe get word to somebody at the ranch if he shows up.”
“No, it’ll keep. I just wanted to find out if he remembered anything about the logo on that truck that lady was driving when he met her.”
“I’m sorry, Doc. You’re digging a dry well here. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Sorry, Jimmy, I thought you boys shared everything except your women.”
Art explained about his last conversation with Virgil.
“So the sheriff actually did meet that lady before?”
“Seems like, but that’s all we got,” Ark said.
“Maybe, if we could find out where she was working?”
“Yeah, but how are we going to go about that?”
“Well, I haven’t figured that part out. But you know how nothing’s a secret in this town. I bet somebody knows.”
“You know, Jimmy, you might be onto something. Think you’ve just given yourself a job. Good luck with your search.”
Jimmy sat back in his chair after he hung up the phone, trying to figure out what had just happened and what job he had actually taken on. He was still sitting in his chair wondering when the phone rang a few minutes later.
“Jimmy, you want me to come in?”
“No, Dif. I’ve got it covered, unless you’re looking to escape your relatives.”
“Jimmy, I do believe you’re a mind reader. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
Dif was as good as his word. Jimmy had just come out of the bathroom when Dif walked through the door.
“How was your Thanksgiving, Dif?”
“Oh, it was good, particularly as far as the eats go. I’m still trying to recover from that overindulgence. You know, I promised myself I wasn’t going to eat like one of those starving Armenians. Decided I was just going to take a little of everything. But there was so much of everything that it didn’t make no difference. Edna put out all these appetizers. Then her sisters come along adding more, insisting I had to try this one or that. Course to be honest, I didn’t put up much of a fight. By the time we sat down for the main event, I’d already let my belt out two notches. You know what they say, Jimmy—the road to hell is paved with good intentions.”
“Yeah. I guess a lot of people are feeling like you today.”
“Not that brother-in-law of mine from Alamogordo. He got up today like yesterday never happened. My God, eating everything in sight. Couldn’t watch anymore. For a second, thought he’d eat the plate. Wouldn’t mind, if he was three hundred pounds, but my right leg weighs more than him. Go figure. There I am, trying to cut down. He’s got a gleam in his eye like a cannibal at a Weight Watchers convention. Anyway, that’s why I’m here—so you can take off.”
“Actually, I realized after you called I could squeeze in my last PT appointment in a half an hour, so I’m outta here.” Fifteen minutes later, Jimmy was sitting outside the physical therapy room at Hayward Hospital when he heard someone call his name.
“Hey, Deputy Tillman, we’ve got to stop meeting like this.”
When Jimmy looked up from the magazine he was reading, Virginia Dalton was standing next to his chair. There was a quick response hiding in his brain somewhere, but he couldn’t find it.
“Hello.” It was the best he could do. She sat in the chair next to him.
“How are you feeling?”
He looked into the warm smile he saw in her blue eyes and felt like he was drowning. He mumbled a response. He could hear the words coming out of his mouth, but he had no idea what he was saying.
“That’s good. So do you think this will be your last session?”
“I think so. I’ll know in a little while.” He was finally getting a grasp on language.
“Hey, I have a great idea. I’m going upstairs to visit a friend. I’ll stop back later. If you’re done, why don’t we grab some lunch at Margie’s to celebrate your recovery?”
“Okay, sounds good. Actually I’m starving.”
He didn’t say that if she asked him to walk hand in hand with her to the train station, to step in front of a fast-moving freight, he would have obliged with a stupid grin on his face.
* * *
Margie’s place was like a church after a funeral. Not a soul in sight.
“Hope you have a reservation,” Margie yelled from in back of the counter when they walked through the door.
“We can always do takeout if you haven’t got room,” Jimmy yelled back. Jimmy had found his voice.
They sat in one of the booths that looked out on Main Street. “Deader than a graveyard,” Jimmy said.
“Guess the day after a big holiday is always a bit of a letdown. Christmas is the worst,” Virginia said. “You work up to it for weeks, even months, then it’s over in the blink of an eye.”
“Guess that’s why a lot of people get depressed at that time of the year. All that expectation of something. Then they wake up the next day and realize nothing’s really changed, except they have a boatload of bills they didn’t have before.”
“So, you all done with PT?” Virginia asked.
“Seems so. They gave me a printout of exercises for my arm that I can do at home.”
“Pretty soon you’ll be back to a hundred percent.”
“Don’t know that I was ever a hundred percent. I’ll settle for anything above eighty.”
Margie was standing next to the booth.
“So, you better get your order in before we run out of food.”
“Yeah, guess you could have stayed home today, Margie.”
“Well, you know how that works. If I had, I’d have gotten a call that they were lined up down Main Street. That’s what they call Murphy’s Law. So what can I get you?” Virginia and Jimmy each ordered the Southwestern burger and fries. Margie left only to return in a few minutes with a couple of lemonades. They each immediately took a long drink.
“I was so thirsty,” Virginia said.
“It’s the hospital. Every time I come out of there, the first thing I do is get a drink. They keep that place so hot.”
“So, where’s your boss? Still looking for Mr. Thompson?”
“Far as I know. Haven’t heard a word.”
“So, who’s minding the store?”
“I was, then Dif came in, so I was able to get to that last PT session.”
“Guess our meeting was meant to be,” Virginia said. “Kismet.”
“Kismet?” Jimmy said. “Like the word, but don’t think I ever heard it before.”
When Virginia offered an explanation, he suddenly felt out of his depth. He had experienced the feeling many times, but never was it as painful as it was at that moment. Margie put plates of food in front of them. He immediately picked up his sandwich and took a bite. He felt Virginia’s eyes on him. If he could have snapped his fingers and been a thousand miles away, he would have done it in a heartbeat. Instead, he ate quietly while her eyes burned a hole right through him.
“Margie sure knows how to cook a burger.”
Jimmy didn’t respond.
“So, what are you going to do with the rest of your day?”
Jimmy had just put his glass on the table. “Oh, I’m going to try to track down something about that lady that landed on my car.”
“Can you tell me about it?”
Jimmy related his earlier conversation with Dr. Kincaid.
“I think that’s a great idea you had. Find out where she was worki
ng. Nobody else thought of that. Way to go, Jimmy. Where are you going to begin looking?”
“Well, it’ll take forever if I start door to door,” he said. “I’ve been thinking if there’s some common connector. A place where she might have gone while she was in the area often enough that someone might have noticed her.”
“Like a gas station or a restaurant, you mean.”
Jimmy’s eyes seemed to come alive.
“That’s it,” he said. “Even if she was working on her own, she had to stay somewhere, eat somewhere. Maybe someone noticed her.”
He looked around the restaurant. One other person had come in while they were eating. He was sitting over a cup of coffee at the counter. Jimmy spied Carmella, one of Margie’s longtime waitresses. She saw him wave to her.
“What can I get you, Jimmy?”
“Carmella, do you remember a woman who might have come in here alone a couple of times a few weeks ago? Mid to late thirties, maybe wearing a kind of uniform? A jumpsuit?”
Carmella shook her head. “Sorry, Jimmy. I missed a week a while back, but you should ask Margie. Even though she doesn’t wait on that many people, she doesn’t miss a trick. Anybody new, she would know. I’ll send her over as soon as she comes out of the kitchen.”
While they waited, they finished their food. When Margie came over, they put the same question to her that they had put to Carmella. She leaned on the corner of the booth for a moment, looking out onto Main Street.
“There was someone who came in by herself a couple of weeks ago. I’d never seen her before, but because she was alone I noticed her. I didn’t speak to her or wait on her.”
“Was there anything about her that you noticed? Something different?”
Margie stepped back from the booth. “Sorry, Jimmy. Drawing a blank.”
“Thanks anyway, Margie.”
Margie turned, then walked back to the kitchen.
“Well, we can try some other places, like gas stations,” Virginia said.
“Yeah, I guess.”
They stood up from the booth after paying their bill, then started for the door. They had it opened when Margie yelled to them. She came out from in back of the counter.
“I just remembered. There was one thing, Jimmy. It was because she was parked right outside the door. I noticed when I went outside to sign for a delivery. Her truck, she was driving a pickup. It had a cool logo. A wave. It said ‘Coastal’ underneath.”
“Great. Thanks, Margie.”
“A wave and a word. That’s a good start. Your instincts were right on target.” Virginia made the comment as they stepped onto the sidewalk.
“Well, it’s only a part of the puzzle, but it’s something. More than we had. Now I’ve just got to figure out how that piece fits.”
They walked down the street, around the corner to the parking lot outside the office, where they had left their cars.
“That was fun.” They were standing next to Virginia’s car. “Like being a detective. I’m sure your boss will be impressed.”
Jimmy’s mind was going in another direction. “I was wondering if, maybe you would like to do this again. I mean, maybe you and I could . . .”
She was looking at him in a different way. “You mean like a date?”
Virginia wasn’t making it any easier. Jimmy had that drowning feeling again as he looked at her. He felt his tongue start to swell in his throat.
“Well, I just thought . . .”
Virginia reached up, putting her index finger to his lips.
“Relax, Jimmy. We just had a date. I asked you out, now you’re asking me. That’s the way it works, if the first date is a success. I just said it was fun, so the answer is an unequivocal yes. I would like a second date with you. Of course, maybe you might want to tell your boss when he returns.”
“Why should I tell the sheriff?” he said. “I mean, I don’t tell him everything I do.”
“Oh. I thought you knew.”
“Knew? Knew what?”
“It’s just, I guess it’s still not out there.”
The look on Jimmy’s face told her he didn’t have a clue.
“Jimmy, the sheriff . . . Virgil is my father. I thought you knew. My real name is Virginia Dalton, not Hayward. I haven’t changed it. Legally, I mean, because I only just found out. For that matter so did Virgil. He’s my father. I thought you should know. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.” Jimmy couldn’t have stood more rigid if he were carved from stone.
“Virgil is your dad.”
Virginia nodded. “I guess it’s a bit of a surprise.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know.”
“I thought maybe he had told you,” she said.
For a long moment they looked at each other. The stillness in the world around them underlined the awkward moment.
“Think about it for a while, then if you still want that second date we can talk.”
She opened her car door, then got in and started the engine. She gave a slight wave. Before she turned onto the street she looked in her rearview mirror. Jimmy hadn’t moved. He stood in that same spot awhile after she had gone. At last, he turned, then walked into the office.
Dif was sitting behind one of the desks. He had turned on the television, which was mounted on the opposite wall. He was watching a football game. He hardly looked up at Jimmy when he came through the door.
“Hey,” was all he said.
When Jimmy didn’t acknowledge, he turned slightly in his chair to face him. “How did it go? Any problems?”
Jimmy looked at him without comprehension. “Huh,” he said. “What?”
“I said, how did PT go? Any problems? Any questions for me?”
“Oh, it was fine. No problems. I’m finished.”
“Good. Any questions?”
“Questions?” Jimmy said. “Yeah. What does ‘unequivocal’ mean?”
20
They were less than a quarter mile from the next cabin when Virgil pulled Jack to a halt. They had not seen or heard anything since they had found Jupiter’s carcass.
“What is it, Virgil? Do you see something?”
They had turned away from the fence bordering the reservation land. Now they were at the bottom of the ridge. Once again they were among the conifers that were interspersed throughout the rugged grassland. It was in a cluster of them that Virgil had stopped.
“What do you see?” Marian said again.
“I don’t see anything, but I smell something. Wood burning.” He stood in the stirrups, looked about, then settled back down into the saddle. “Can’t see anything. How far do you think the cabin is?”
“It’s been a long time, but I smell the wood smoke, too.”
Virgil got down from Jack. He handed the reins to Marian. “Wait here. Hold the horses.” He slipped his rifle out of the scabbard.
She watched him disappear in a copse of trees up ahead. After a few minutes, her anxiety began to build. She bit her lip, then toyed with the idea of dismounting and tying up the horses to follow Virgil on foot. Every movement of a branch, even the prick of Jack’s ears, caused her to tighten her grip on the reins till her knuckles showed white and the nails of her fingers bit into her palms. Finally, when she couldn’t stand it a minute longer, she got down off Ringo, still holding the reins of both horses. Then she heard the crack of a branch underfoot. She gasped, slid her own rifle from its nest as she looped the reins around a low-hanging branch. Then she put the rifle to her shoulder, squinted through the sight as she aimed it at the sound. A slight drip of blood oozed from her lip. She held her breath. Then Virgil stepped from behind a tree.
“Oh.” It was all she could say.
“Sorry I was so long, but I think we might have a problem. Are you okay?”
“You were gone so long . . . I though
t maybe . . .”
“It’s okay, Marian. Take a deep breath. Here, let me have that.”
He took her rifle, slipping it back in the scabbard, doing the same thing with his. Then he came over to her, held her a little awkwardly, then had her sit down.
“I think we might have a problem. That smoke is coming from the cabin.”
“Maybe Dad . . .” She didn’t complete the thought.
“I thought of that, too, but I didn’t want to chance it. I waited to see if I could spot anyone, but no one came outside. It was too light to chance getting closer, especially with you waiting for me. Besides, if it is him, he was able to build a fire. That tells us something.”
“But I don’t understand. What are you saying?”
“I’m thinking because we don’t know who is in there, that maybe we should wait until dark before we go in. If it is your father, no problem. But if it isn’t, it just might be the person who put the hole in Jupiter.”
Virgil checked the reins where Marian had tied them. He unsaddled each of them, placing the saddles on the ground. Marian got up from where she had been sitting. She took a currycomb and a brush from her saddlebag, then began grooming Ringo. Virgil spread the saddle blankets out, got some energy bars from his saddlebag along with a thermos. By the time Marian had finished with both horses, he was sitting on one of the blankets, munching on one of the bars. She came over, sat on the other blanket, took the energy bar he offered, and bit into it. They passed the thermos back and forth a couple of times before Marian spoke.
“Damn. Damn, I hate this waiting, not knowing.”
“I understand, but I think this is the smart thing to do.”
After a few minutes, Virgil lay back. He pulled his Stetson down, shading his eyes. Marian got up, walked around for a few minutes, then returned and stretched out on her own blanket. A faint breeze moved the branches overhead in a constant rhythm. Angled sunlight filtered through. She could tell from Virgil’s regular breathing that he was dozing off. She had become suddenly anxious. The last couple of days were taking their toll. She had truly expected her father to turn up at the ranch like he had done all her life. The unexpected loss of her mother had hit her hard. The agonizing moment when her father showed up and she had to break the news was all she thought about. Then when Virgil turned up everything changed. After his narrative, she had to confront the possibility of losing her father, also. Now, when the answer was within reach, she was lying on a blanket under some swaying conifers, and it was killing her.
