Timber City Masks

by Kieran York

  Royce realized their affair was difficult. But being without Valeria would be even more difficult. She knew all the pages by heart. She conceded that love flames lapped her skin each time she saw this woman. And when they touched, it was a burning that moved inward as if driven by a strong gale. She wondered why she would seek this kind of a love shelter. Valeria’s arms roped her waist. She whispered of her love for Royce. It was all Royce ever needed to hear.

  Valeria then pulled Royce’s torso toward hers, against hers, as she lulled, “Royce, I need to hold you. Please.” Royce felt Valeria’s softness. She grappled for restraint. Valeria pleaded, “Please kiss me. Please, baby, kiss me.”

  “We’ve got to be careful. Someone might see us.”

  “Tell them you’re frisking me. Or better yet,” Valeria said with a chuckle, “tell them I’m frisking you.”

  There was more truth than fiction to the latter, Royce concluded.

  Chapter 13

  “We’ve issued an all-points missing person alert,” declared Royce. Scanning the dimness of midmorning in the Bell Ringer, she squinted at Faye. Vacant of patrons, the bar seemed strangely forlorn. Clustered chairs’ legs grew from marred tabletops. The musty pungency of flat beer was sour.

  “Faye, we’ll keep patrolling until we find her.”

  “Jade has only been gone a day, but it’s like an eternity,” Faye whispered. They were words of agony. Her eyes were swollen. The hours of crying had nearly shut her tufted eyelids. “My nerves are ratting up on me.”

  Royce wanted to console Faye. She sat on the barstool across from where Faye had plunged her weary body. “Yanc will be back sometime today. We’ve got the highway patrol scouting for him.” Royce wished that he had taken the off-road instead of his camper. He would have had the radio with him then. By design, Yancy had wanted two days of isolation.

  “Sure, do wanna thank you and the others for all the hours you’ve been putting in. You’ve all been going full tilt since yesterday morning. Everyone’s been so damned nice. Your mom’s been keeping everyone on the search party fed.” Faye’s eyes flooded again. “Hell, even Gwen comes over yesterday afternoon and gets a picture of Jade so they could print up some flyers for me. Wouldn’t take a red cent.”

  “Times like these in Timber City, we all bind together. I wish I could tell you that we’ve come up with something. I did pull that ticket on the kid Jade was with. He’s been in New York with his family for the past week. He has no idea where she might be. He did mention that we should look up at the Crystal Lodge. I called up there again and requested that they search. They didn’t want to rile their patrons, so I threatened to send up uniforms to do a room search. They quickly agreed to cooperate. They’re in Timber County’s jurisdiction and don’t want trouble. Said they’ll get right back with us after they check.”

  Faye sniffed and then gave a foghorn blow of her nose into limp tissue. “Look at me, bawlin’ my eyes out. Smoking like a bonfire. Third pack this morning.” She pulled a cigarette out and lit it. She blew a cloud of smoke. “You think she’s okay?”

  “Too early to speculate. But she has had a history of leaving. Just not this long. And she does have a mind of her own. Maybe she just needed to get away. Seventeen is a tough year. She might be trying for independence.”

  “Yeah. Shit, when I was her age I gave my folks many a start. I was all over town in those days.” Faye’s face looked like unglazed porcelain. Her nasalized speech continued slowly, “And when my baby was born, all the busy bodies dished the dirt. They were waitin’ for me to point a finger. Guess I never said anything about her daddy. Folks think she’s Yancy’s. I couldn’t tell you. For the life of me, I don’t know. Yancy. Could be; they sure look alike. Act alike even. But I don’t know. All I know is who she doesn’t belong to. She wasn’t your daddy’s. He was true to Molly. So who was Jade’s daddy? Don’t know. But I never been with anyone I didn’t like. Something nice about all of 'em. So I guess it doesn’t matter. Some of those cowboys are plenty crazy, but they were all good to me.”

  “Faye, had her mood changed? Any problems in her life?”

  “She’s always been sulky. You know, she can piss me off with that snotty way of hers. Cold as an ice cream bar. Then she can turn around and be just as sweet as you please.” Concern covered her face. “I know I’m not mother of the year. Raising her over a sleazy, shoddy bar. And I know she’s like me. Griddles a mite too warm with the boys. But I don’t want her to go to waste.” Faye gripped her cigarette so tightly that she nearly crushed it in half. “If some fucker hurt my baby, I’ll take a pliers to him. Hell, I tried to be strict with her. Hold on tight. I just end up losing her.” Her face tumbled into the palm of her hand.

  “She knows you love her. That’s the important thing.”

  “Yeah.”

  With a somber voice, Royce probed, “Faye, there’s something I wanted to ask you about.” Royce carefully inspected Faye’s expression before she continued. Grady Madison had always told Royce that facial expressions are the best reference material. But he also cautioned that some people are very proficient at lying. Royce knew she would get an accurate reading with Faye. “You know Yancy better than anyone. On the murders, do you think he would cover up for Luther?”

  “I’m not sure.” She seemed vexed. Then, as if escaping a trance, she answered, “Naw. I don’t think so.”

  “It’s just that I’ve got to check out every possibility.”

  “I don’t think Yancy would. Hell, Luther got everything. Looks. Married a fortune. Never had to work for anything in his life. Never had a care. Sure, Yancy has probably taken care to keep Luther outta a scrape or two. Small stuff. But if you’re asking if Yancy would lie to protect Luther from a murder charge, I don’t think so.”

  “We’ve had two murders and now we have a missing person. I’m asking every kind of question in every kind of way. I don’t want to overlook anything.”

  Faye’s eyes revealed truth. “To be honest, I can’t see Yancy lying about that. But I’m not close to my family. Maybe with brothers it’s different. Since your own twin brother was stillborn, guess you don’t know about sibling stuff either.”

  “No.” Royce planted her feet on the floor and stood. “I’ll let you know the minute I have any information. Why don’t you try and get some rest.”

  “I’m not sure I’ll ever rest again. Not until we find Jade.”

  Royce went out into the bright sunlight. It always hurt when she thought of the baby Molly had lost. She tried to repress it, just as Molly had. Molly had not wanted to be reminded of carrying a stillborn child. And Royce didn’t want to be reminded of sharing the womb with her twin.

  Royce reached into her breast pocket and pulled out her sunglasses. After carefully unfolding them, she guided them onto her face. Blinking several times, Royce cursed her moist eyes.

  ***

  Royce was on her way back out to the Blazer when she saw Yancy’s truck pull into the parking area. It pitched forward as he put on the brakes. His steps slapped the earth as he trotted toward Royce. “Any news?”

  “We’re still searching. Glad the patrol found you. Nothing on the ticket. We’re sniffing out some leads at Crystal Lodge.”

  Within moments a circle of people formed around Yancy. He was rangering them toward the courthouse. “We’ll let you know when we find anything out,” he delivered with a stormy scowl. Taking Royce’s arm, he whispered through grinding teeth, “Anybody touches that girl and I’ll take their head off at the shoulders.”

  Royce knew his temper was broiling. She also understood his kick of frustration when Cinnamon ran toward the crowd. “Get that damned dog outta here.”

  Royce intercepted the Irish setter’s friendly prance. “Stay girl. Sit.” She pulled Cinnamon’s collar.

  “Keep that fuckin’ dog away from me,” Yancy raged.

  “I’ve got her.”

  Yancy’s head dropped and his eyes filled. “Royce,” he pressed the words from his t
ight lips, “nothing better happen to Jade. I think she’s mine,” he confided.

  Royce gave his forearm a bracelet squeeze of encouragement. “We’ll find her, Yanc. Whatever it takes.”

  He sighed as they reached the steps of the courthouse. Nick burst through the double doorway.

  “What you got?” Yancy questioned.

  “She’s fine. Up at the lodge.”

  Yancy wheeled around. His eyes pinched shut several times as the lids quelled tears. “Nick, you run over and tell her mama. Royce, you get that dog back to the Times and tell them. More folks call them for a rundown than call the department. So get that damned dog back to them. I’m goin’ to fetch Jade.”

  Royce walked back to the camper with Yancy. His body heaved with a heavy spurt of breath. “Yancy, I’m glad she’s safe.”

  “Now her mama will be relieved.” His smile was a slender line across his lips. “Thanks, deputy. You’d better get yourself some sleep tonight. You look like shit.”

  After Yancy’s camper had roared off with a trail of billowing dust, Royce gave Cinnamon a playful swat on the back. “Let’s head you back home, girl.” She followed the galloping setter to the Times office, appreciating the way Cinnamon’s ruffling fur caught the sunlight. “Not so fast, girl,” she called after the dog. She couldn’t match those long, energetic strides, and she knew it. Her own energy had been wasted hours ago. But at least Jade was safe.

  Royce wondered why some chunks of time seemed to be in the state of levitation. The down-draft then threw a person to the ground of harsh reality. Royce figured she would sleep the moment she crawled into bed. It would be nice not to need to be the somnolence inveigler. It would be nice to emerge into the surrender of sleep. Nicer yet if she was assured that her dreams would be only the safe kind.

  ***

  “Jade’s safe,” Royce announced as she entered the Times office. “She was having herself a little respite at the Crystal Lodge.”

  Gwen grimly peered over the upper rim of her glasses. “Damn kid. Glad she’s okay, but I wonder if she has any idea what she’s put Faye through. To say nothing of everyone else. Hell’s bells, we’ll need to pitch those flyers. She had to have known this little missing persons game would cause an uproar. With the murders. I don’t know what she was thinking. She’s up there comfy cozy, doing gosh knows what.” Gwen broke mid-sentence, then issued a slight grin. “Well, if she’s like her mother, we all know what she was doing.” With that spicy accusation, Gwen continued ranting. “I sure as hell wouldn’t put Jade in charge of the Senior Prom entertainment. And Faye wouldn’t be my choice for chaperon. So now you have my 'Vine’ venom for the week. A little folksy satire.” As an afterthought, Gwen added, “I ought to gather all my old columns and produce a book of severely scathing essays.”

  “Plenty amazing,” Royce murmured as she sat in the rocking chair. She teetered back and forth and then requested, “Speaking of books, maybe I could borrow some.”

  “Ah ha,” Gwen crowed. “Trying to impress the vet?”

  “Naw. Just want to have a point of reference, since all of you do all this reading. Where’s Nadine?”

  “My sweetheart is shopping. But she’ll also be thrilled about your entry into the literary world. We hate to see you miss out on a good woman because you’re chasing a beauty queen.”

  “I’m Hertha’s friend. Anyway, Valeria agreed to go dancing with me. We’re going to Denver Thursday night. They have a country-western night at a place called the Denver Matchbox. Val made a big deal out not wanting to sit home, yet not wanting to be seen around here with me. So I finally cornered her and insisted we go. I do love her, and she loves me.”

  “She’s got a funny way of showing it. But if she’s what you want, who am I to say your head’s turned around backward.”

  “She’s the one I want, or I wouldn’t be with her.” Royce yawned. “Now that we’re done with that. . .”

  “I wish you were done with it, Royce. Can you honestly say that she’s the type of person you want to spend your life with?”

  “She could be. She’s going through some bad times right now.”

  “There are always bad times in life. We can’t hide our moral signature by claiming we don’t know how to write. And we can’t hide our hearts by claiming we don’t know how to love. Royce, you deserve better. If we didn’t love you, we wouldn’t be concerned. She hangs out with her jet-setters and throws you the crumbs. The leftovers.”

  With a smile, Royce countered. “The leftovers aren’t bad. Look, I know you have my welfare at heart, but I do love her. It’s that simple. I know she’s difficult to understand.” Royce could feel her blanched face flush. “She can behave badly. But she can also be tender and vulnerable. Bright and funny.”

  “Like a vulture. Royce she leads you around by a ring in your nose and you know it. She’s ferocious. And she does know how to run you over the high hurdles. I just hate to see you pass by someone who would be great for you.”

  “I know Hertha is a lovely person. And I’ll admit that if Valeria weren’t on the scene, I would probably be attracted to Hertha. But Valeria is on the scene. Now, can we please talk about something else?”

  Gwen expelled a blustering sigh. “Fine. Royce, maybe I’m just edgy over the financial situation and hammering on you to get it out of my system.” She took off her glasses and flung them on the desk. “It’s just so damned frustrating. To work this hard and long and have it all up for grabs. And be holding a losing hand. Feels as though my creditors are excavating my soul, a scoop-shovel at a time. If we could just get over this bad patch, we could hold on.”

  “I only wish there was something I could do. Folks all over are having problems due to the soft economy. Naturally they cut their advertising budget. But Gwen, Timber City needs a newspaper. We depend on it. Any word from the bank?”

  “Turned us down on the loan. They aren’t approving any new loans. Claim they can’t collect on their current notes. Well, we’ll just try to hold out.”

  “I wish we could come up with some big money. Not too likely on my salary. You know I’d give you anything I have. Gwen, you’re my mom’s best friend, and mine. That’s nice. I tell you everything. With this murder case ... I can’t talk with Yancy or Nick. And Hertha and Valeria both have something at stake in the investigation. So I can’t take either of them totally into my confidence.”

  “By the way, I checked out the file on your father again. My methodical and copious notes do point out one thing. Drugs seem to be at the core. There isn’t,” Gwen confided, “a molecule of proof in any direction. If you plan on being the great aegis of Timber City, you’d best turn your six-shooter toward cocaine trafficking. A very dangerous direction. I would question, for instance, if Valeria knew where Trish got her stash? If it was a drug-related crime, it could very well be the tie-in with Grady’s murder.”

  “Valeria doesn’t know. Trish could keep her lips buttoned.”

  “Maybe they began unbuttoning and someone wanted her quieted permanently.”

  “I’ve thought about that. Valeria assumed that Trish had a connection with someone in the glitter crowd in Aspen. We both know it’s available there. Val didn’t press to find out.”

  Gwen chuckled. “I always press. But what if Valeria isn’t telling you all she knows because you’re a badge? Maybe she doesn’t want you involved in it.”

  “And I might tell you. You know what they say about the press. If you can’t take the shame, don’t play the game.”

  “Royce, I thought the saying was if you can’t take the time, don’t do the crime.”

  “The sayings don’t matter. Someone got away with my father’s murder. And we haven’t got one shred of firm evidence saying that we have the killer of Trish and Osborn behind bars.”

  “My instincts are still shouting that Ray isn’t guilty.”

  The door squeaked open and Royce stretched to see Hertha enter. “Ray is in good spirits today,” she announced.

 
; “And how is everything else?” Gwen inquired.

  “The young woman who was missing has been located, and there are no gravely ill pets in the county. So it could be worse.” Hertha petted Cinnamon’s head. “I just came over to take this big redhead for her shots.”

  “Royce just returned her. Gallivanting again.”

  “I’ll escort her personally this time,” Hertha said with a laugh.

  “By the by,” Gwen confirmed, “we’re on for Monday.” Gwen noticed Royce’s frown. “We’re taking the day off to go up and look over old Goldville. Hertha has never seen the famous ghost town. A bit of history. There was an Indian battle on the outskirts of Goldville. People are always finding arrowheads.” Gwen’s eyebrows shot up. “Don’t suppose you could wrangle Monday off, Royce?” She traded an obvious glance with Hertha. “You don’t mind if Royce comes with us, do you?”

  “Not in the least.”

  “I’ll try and get the day off. Even if I don’t, I don’t report for duty until three in the afternoon.”

  “Wonderful,” Hertha remarked. “We’ll count on you.” She then enticed Cinnamon to the door. “I’ll bring her back after an injection and a treat. And Royce, I’m really glad you can make it for our Goldville excursion.”

  “Me too,” Royce mumbled as the door shut with a snug thud.

  “Now I’m really looking forward to the day,” Gwen gloated. Her smile was in full bloom. “My, my, my.”

  Royce stood and brushed her uniform trousers. “Let’s not pursue your next line of inquiry.”

  “Naturally. I wouldn’t think of it.”

  “You know that I’ve always liked ghost towns and old mines . . . and fishing.”

  “Yes, I know that.” Gwen’s lips churned. “And Hertha is easy to be around.”

  “Yes. She certainly is. And . . .”

  “And?”

  “And I like her very much.”

  “You silver-tongued goddess. I’m going to load your arms with books of a sensitive nature. And Royce?”