Dark Moon Crossing (Kendall O'Dell Mystery series)

by Sylvia Nobel

  “Just fine, I think.”

  “I felt bad that I didn’t get to say goodbye when they came by a few weeks ago, but I was away at school. Say, your hair is really cool. Are you a natural redhead‌ I’m thinking about dyeing mine red,” she said, fluffing her short bangs.

  She seemed anxious to talk and that was great, as I was anxious for information. I thanked her for the compliment and motioned towards the green car. “So, you attend the U of A in Tucson‌”

  At the mention of school her face lit up. For several minutes, she chattered on about her hopes to major in microbiology, work for a big pharmaceutical firm and find the cure for cancer. Lofty goals.

  “Do you come home often‌”

  Her enthusiasm diminished. “Twice a month. Sometimes my two brothers drive down, and once in a while my big sister comes to help out,” she said, stuffing my card into the front pocket of her jeans, “but it’s not much fun being here anymore. In fact, it’s like a morgue. There’s nobody to talk to most of the time.”

  “Why is that‌”

  She drew her knees up to her chin and sighed. “As you could probably tell, Grandma’s got emphysema, so she can only talk for two minutes before having a coughing fit. She’s not supposed to smoke, but she gets on my ass if I say anything.”

  “And your mother‌”

  Her swift shrug and upward eye roll told me a lot. “She pops Prozac all day or else she’s zonked out on sleeping pills….” Her voice trailed off and she stared straight ahead blank-faced momentarily before meeting my eyes again. “Why do you want to talk to her‌”

  “I wanted to ask her some questions about your dad.”

  Little distress lines fanned out across her forehead. She lowered her eyes and absently petted the dog again. “Good luck.”

  “Why do you say that‌”

  “Because, she gets totally paranoid if we try to talk to her about him.” She paused to clear her throat. “Maybe things will be better when we sell this place and she moves up to Tucson. Bad vibes here now.”

  “Your brothers, are they at the university too‌”

  “Yeah. Carl’s got one more year, I’ve got two, but Todd just started.”

  I did a quick calculation. Tuition, room and board for three college students would add up to a substantial amount of cash. Would the financial burden have pushed Bob Shirley to abandon his principles and become involved in drug smuggling to augment his income‌

  “We’ll be there for the rest of this semester anyway,” she said, sounding despondent. “If the house doesn’t sell and we don’t get the grants we applied for…well, we may all have to drop out.”

  “Losing your dad has obviously been pretty hard on the whole family emotionally and financially.”

  “Nothing will ever be the same.”

  I flipped open my notepad and leaned forward. “Jennifer, I’m hoping you can answer some questions for me. I’m trying to help out a friend who’s in some serious trouble. I can’t give you specifics except to say there are bizarre similarities between her current predicament and something that happened involving your dad. I’m trying to figure out if there might be a connection between these two situations.”

  The color seeped from her face. “What are you talking about‌”

  “Did your father ever discuss his work‌”

  “Sometimes.” A cautious note had entered her voice.

  “Did he ever talk to you about one particular immigrant he arrested in a place called Morita‌” I consulted my notes and tacked on, “It happened the last week of June.”

  Her eyes fogged for several seconds then cleared. “Oh, you mean the guy who thought he saw a space alien or something‌”

  “Exactly. What was your dad’s reaction to his story‌”

  “At first we all laughed about it, but then later on….” She hesitated for a few seconds before fixing me with an odd look. “You know, so much was happening around that time, I hadn’t really thought about this until now.”

  I leaned closer. “What‌”

  “A couple of days afterwards, when Todd was joking about it at dinner, my dad just suddenly lost it. I mean he got really mad and said he didn’t want us to discuss it ever again.”

  “Really‌ Did you think that was strange‌”

  She hitched one thin shoulder. “Kind of.”

  “How would you rate your dad’s state of mind during that time period‌ Did he seem depressed‌”

  “Well...I wouldn’t exactly call it depressed, but I did overhear him talking to Mom that he was bummed about his job and he was thinking about quitting.”

  “Why‌”

  “He was totally…well, disillusioned is the word he used. Half the time he was out of his mind with boredom, but when they did catch a group of migrants it was like playing a game of tag because they’d just come back again.” Her elongated shrug and sad little smile spoke volumes. “He used to say that it was like a revolving door.”

  I nodded, thinking that his complaints echoed exactly the grievances quoted by the disgruntled agent in the article I’d read last night.

  She chewed her lip for moment before tacking on, “Mom was always giving him grief about the low pay too. She said it wasn’t worth him working such crappy hours and certainly not for risking his life in some cases.”

  I knew the next question was going to hurt, but I had to ask it anyway. “Tell me, Jennifer, do you know anything about the allegations that he….”

  Fury erupted in her eyes. “Don’t even say it! I don’t care what you’ve heard or what you’ve read, my dad was not, and I repeat not, involved with drug smugglers. He was honest and decent and kind and he would never, ever in a million years have done anything like…like they’re saying.” Her voice trembled over the last few words and she pressed her lips shut.

  I smiled in sympathy. “I’m sorry. I know this is a painful subject, but Walter doesn’t buy the official ruling that your dad committed suicide. What do you think‌”

  She appeared to be straining for composure. “Like I said, he wasn’t exactly himself those last few weeks, but who would be with that kind of shit coming down‌” She pushed to her feet, marched to the edge of the porch and stood with her back to me for a minute before she swung around to face me, her eyes luminous with tears. “Does it sound logical to you that a man with a wife and four kids and a grandbaby on the way would kill himself the night before his fiftieth birthday party‌”

  Frowning, I shook my head. “No.” The mournful wail of the wind seemed to accentuate the unspoken realization that passed between us. “Jennifer, did your father have any enemies‌”

  “Not that I know of.”

  We both flinched when a voice commanded, “Jennifer! Get inside right now!” I swung around. A haggard-looking woman with eyes as morose as the hound dog stood behind the screen door. Wrapped in an oversized terrycloth bathrobe, her graying sandy hair was squashed flat against the side of her head as if she’d been lying on it a long time.

  Jennifer’s brow crinkled. “Mom, what’s wrong‌”

  She edged the door open, beckoning frantically. “Get in here. You shouldn’t be talking to this woman. She works at a newspaper! You could be endangering the whole family.”

  Her choice of the word ‘endanger,’ coupled with the expression of fearful agitation tarnishing her dull blue eyes, set my pulse rate skyrocketing.

  Jennifer fired a bewildered glance at me as she brushed by and disappeared inside the house. “Mrs. Shirley,” I began, “I’m sure your mother told you that I’m a friend of Walter and Lavelle….”

  She cut me off with a curt, “Did anybody see you come here‌”

  “What‌”

  “Does anyone else know you’re here‌” Her eyes

  darted all around and then widened with fright when her gaze locked onto something behind me. “Hell’s fire, they’re still watching me. Get out,” she snarled. “Get out of here now and don’t ever come back!” The door slammed in my fac
e.

  I swiveled around in time to see a white Chevy Blazer slowly cruising past the house. A lightning bolt of alarm shot through me when I recognized the beefy skinhead I’d seen earlier at the café. The menace smoldering in his close-set eyes was every bit as frightening as if he’d reached out and wrapped his hands around my throat.

  11

  Twenty miles later, my apprehension persisted. Keeping one hand on the wheel, I adjusted the rearview mirror again. The road was clear behind me, but the knowledge that I had been followed to the Shirley residence, coupled with Loydeen’s claim that she was being watched, unnerved me. There was zero doubt in my mind that the malevolence directed towards me both yesterday and today was a direct result of my association with a person of Mexican origin, plain and simple.

  The skinhead’s timely appearance, combined with the Shirley woman’s violent reaction, gave merit to Walter’s assertion that Bob may have had some association with the Knights of Right, and his warning that the situation could get dicey had me wondering how best to proceed. I couldn’t realistically take my fears to the authorities, as there’d been no direct threat against me.

  I headed to the mission, determined to pick up Lupe’s bag before going to the ranch. With Sunday services long over, the place looked deserted again. I parked near the pink house and entered the kitchen. Celia and the second Hispanic woman were there washing dishes, but when I asked for Sister Goldenrod, Celia shook her head and pointed to the door. I gathered she wasn’t around and headed towards Javier’s room.

  Judging by the clean soapy smell and the shine in his dark hair, it was apparent that Sister G had given the little guy a bath. An empty plate and new stuffed toy sat next to him on the floor of the closet. The touching scene thawed the cold dread icing down my insides. Even if it was eventually revealed that Sister G’s ministry was bogus, her concern for the illegals and her affection for this little waif appeared genuine. I wondered how she would react to Mazzie La Casse’s request.

  I grabbed Lupe’s bag from the floor and Javier returned my smile with his timid one as I waved goodbye before closing the door to his sanctuary. Disappointed that I was having no luck connecting the dots in this weird puzzle, and grappling with an overpowering sense of defeat, I headed down the hall, anxious to get to the ranch, fearful that the little orange kitten might be dead. I’d definitely have a few words to say about Jason Beaumont’s deplorable behavior.

  I hadn’t gone two steps past Sister G’s bedroom door when I heard rustling followed by a soft thump. I halted, listening intently. Perhaps I’d misunderstood Celia. I tapped lightly on the door, calling softly, “Sister Goldenrod‌” before easing it open to stare in surprise. The noisemaker proved to be Froggy McQueen. Balanced atop a small stepladder, he was so absorbed in rummaging around inside some cardboard boxes on the top shelf of her closet I knew he hadn’t heard me. Well now, what was this‌ Instinctively, I knew he shouldn’t be there. And wouldn’t it be a crying shame to let an opportunity like this slip by‌ Warily, I eyed the far corner of the room and suppressed a shiver of terror before tiptoeing into the room. Why did I always torture myself with the irrational belief that a spider could vault from its web and travel by air to pounce on me‌

  Preoccupied in his explorations, Froggy did not notice my stealthy approach. “Where the hell did you hide it, you miserable bitch‌” he muttered, stopping to wipe beads of perspiration from his forehead before reaching for a bottle of beer perched on the lower shelf. He tipped it skyward, drained it and then let out several croaking belches that actually sounded like the call of a bullfrog. The origin of his nickname perhaps‌

  The word obnoxious couldn’t begin to describe this guy. It also occurred to me that Froggy must indeed have an alcohol problem if his drinking had begun already. It wasn’t yet one o’clock. When I cleared my throat, he started so violently he almost lost his footing. “Jeezuuuus!” he cried, gawking open-mouthed at me while grabbing the shelf for support. “You scared the everlivin’ shit out of me!”

  “Sorry. I was looking for Sister Goldenrod.”

  He swallowed convulsively and clambered down, missing the last rung on the ladder and almost falling. “Ah…she’s not here, but I expect her back any minute.” He punctuated his statement with a hiccup.

  It took all my willpower not to laugh out loud. I said nothing, just stared at him coolly until he offered up a sheepish smile. “She…um…asked me to do some cleaning for her.”

  “Really‌ You should get rid of the spider over there in the corner while you’re at it.” I retraced my steps, calling nonchalantly over my shoulder, “I’ll check back with her later…and I’ll be sure to mention that I saw you. Bye-bye now.”

  I hadn’t gotten more than ten steps outside the door before he caught up with me. Breathless, he gasped, “Hold on a minute!”

  Smiling inwardly, I stopped and wheeled around to face him. “Yes‌”

  “Listen,” he said, nervously rubbing his hands on his faded jeans. “Do you s’pose you could maybe not mention anything about me being in her room.” His words slurred just a little bit.

  I folded my arms and let him stew for a few seconds. “Well, I think we can work something out.”

  His bloodshot eyes narrowed with suspicion. “How‌”

  “I have some questions I need answered.”

  He knew I had him and he looked like he wanted to cry. Furtively, he glanced around before making tentative eye contact with me again. “What kinds of questions‌”

  “For starters, how long have you known Sister Goldenrod‌”

  Puzzled frown lines formed a cleft Y above his mottled nose. “Why do you want to know that‌”

  “Do we have a deal or not‌” I had the upper hand and intended to keep it.

  He hesitated, running his tongue along his lower lip. “Hey, listen, I’m kinda thirsty. You wanna go out to my truck and have a beer‌”

  I started to refuse and then changed my mind. Alcohol is wonderful for lubricating the jaw muscles. “Sure.”

  Outside, he plucked two bottles from a Styrofoam cooler in his camper shell, popped the tops and handed me one. “She won’t let me keep this in her refrigerators,” he groused, taking a long pull from his beer and then wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Say, I heard through the grapevine that you was a reporter,” he announced in an obvious ploy to change the subject. “Bet you got some real interesting stories to tell.”

  “Froggy, I don’t have a lot of time. Answer the question.”

  His face crumpled like a petulant child. “I dunno. I met her three, maybe four years ago.”

  “Under what circumstances‌”

  “She lived in the same…um…place as my sister.”

  Pretty vague answer. “Which was‌”

  “Tennessee.”

  Still vague, guarded. I took a tiny swallow of beer and switched gears. “Tell me something, is Goldenrod her given name‌”

  His lips twitched with mirth. “No, it ain’t.” Unable to contain his glee, he sniggered, “She don’t like anyone to know because she says people don’t take her seriously, but you know what her real name is‌”

  I shrugged. “I’m listening.”

  “It’s Hoggwhistle. Shalberta Hoggwhistle.” He let out a hoot of laughter and pounded his knee.

  I shook my head in wonder. With a name like that, I could understand why she didn’t want to use it. “Charming. And is she really a minister‌”

  “So she says. Hey, why do you want to know all this stuff‌”

  “I’m just curious to know why you’re blackmailing her.”

  He made a little choking noise and his eyeballs practically bulged from their sockets. “What‌ Where did you…I mean, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stammered, his face paling visibly. He looked so uncomfortable, I almost felt sorry for him. Almost. Matter-of-factly, I said, “I think you do.”

  I could see all kinds of activity going on behind his eyes in an apparent struggle t
o decide what he would or would not tell me. “Look,” he said, his tone now syrupy, “I ain’t doing nothing wrong. The good Sister, well, she got into a little trouble a few years ago and says she’s happy to help me out a little bit financially, if I keep that piece of information to myself.”

  “What kind of trouble‌”

  He looked everywhere but at me. “Oh…nothing much. She just spent a little time in the joint.”

  Nothing much‌ So, Sister Goldenrod was an ex-con‌ That certainly went a long way in explaining her coarse behavior. “What was she in for‌”

  “She swears she was framed,” he said, holding up his right hand as if he were being sworn in. “I think it had something to do with cashing bad checks or something.” His expression of contrived innocence told me he was lying but, if he’d been telling the truth to this point, at least now I had enough information to check out the story further. The rattle of a car engine made his eyes widen with alarm. “Oh, shit, she’s back.” He grabbed the unfinished beer from my hand and stowed it along with his empty bottle back inside the cooler before slamming the door to the camper.

  I decided not to let him off the hook too easily. “I think we should talk again. Soon.”

  His gaze turned flinty. I’m sure if he’d been a dog, he’d have grabbed my ankle with his teeth and hung on, but since I appeared to be holding the cards, he acquiesced. “Sure, sure,” he said, sliding an uneasy glance towards Sister Goldenrod’s Bronco pulling into the garage. “Maybe I could buy you a drink at La Gitana. I go there in the evenings sometimes.”

  I’ll bet he did. “Perhaps,” I said. “I’ll be in touch.” Damn, it felt good to see the self-satisfied smirk wiped off his face, but I was frustrated that I hadn’t had the opportunity to ask him what he’d been searching for.

  I watched him climb behind the wheel and rev the engine, but he didn’t get very far down the driveway before Sister Goldenrod motioned for him to stop. “Why haven’t you left yet‌” she barked, ambling up to the passenger window, her face one big scowl. “I told you we need those groceries here by four o’clock.”