The Rowdy Coyote Rumble (Jackrabbit Junction Humorous Mystery Book 4)

by Ann Charles

  Ronnie shuddered, easing back into the General Store.

  Claire pulled out her hammer and eyed it. Maybe another hit to her head would block out the horrible refried bean and whipped cream memory that kept resurfacing.

  “What’d I miss?” Chester asked, settling down on the barstool again.

  “Something that a year of therapy won’t even touch.”

  “Hey, Claire?” Jess strolled out from the kitchen with a sandwich in her hand. She hopped up on the barstool Manny had just vacated and bit into her snack, speaking through a mouthful of bread. “Did Mom leave me any money?”

  Of course Ruby had left money in case Jess needed anything, but Claire hadn’t been born yesterday. “Why?”

  “I need some cash. Dad wants to take me to Tucson this weekend.”

  “What happened to your dad’s wallet?” Chester asked, speaking around the cigar he was lighting. “Did he accidentally drop it in the mud pit at Dirty Gerties again?”

  Jess’s legs swung as she chewed. “He said he’s a little short.”

  Ah ha! Once again, the asshole was trying to get Jess to give him whatever she had in her piggy bank.

  Ever since Ruby had married Gramps and come into some money thanks to unearthing a couple of her dead husband’s stashes, Jess’s previously nonexistent father had shown up with both hands held out for Ruby’s charity. Never mind that he owed years of back-pay on child support. Had it not been for Jess, Ruby would have sent the son of a bitch packing straight off. But Jess was at a vulnerable age and had been having troubles at home and school. Ruby was walking a tightrope, trying to keep her child from running off with a piece of crap father who only recognized his child now because he had dollar signs in his eyes.

  “What happened to that primo job he landed with the Copper Snake Mining Company?” Claire asked while stuffing plaster pieces in a big garbage bin.

  “Oh, he’s still working there. He said he’s on probation, whatever that means, and isn’t getting his full pay until he puts in ninety days.”

  Chester snorted his feelings on the matter, but a head shake from Claire kept him from saying more. Until Ruby returned, it wasn’t Claire’s or Chester’s place to tell Jessica what a huge cow patty her father was.

  “Your mom left a little cash, but she said it was supposed to be for school lunches and a night or two at the movies with your friends, nothing more.”

  “Ah, man. Come on, Claire, you know where she keeps my college savings stashed. Can’t you get more out so I can get some new jeans in Tucson? Dad said he’ll take me to the mall.”

  Of course he would … on Ruby’s dime. “Nope. I have to do as your mom says, Jess. I don’t want to get in trouble with Gramps.”

  “Her grandfather is gonna be pissed enough when he sees what she’s done to the rec room.”

  “Seal your loose flaps, Chester.” Claire pointed at Jess’s backpack. “Why don’t you take your pack into the store and get your homework done while you’re watching the register. I need to haul some of this garbage to the pile back behind the toolshed.”

  “Give me five bucks and it’s a deal.”

  It never failed; Jess was always wheeling and dealing. “How about you do it for free and I don’t tell your mom you were at the movies last Friday with your college boyfriend.”

  Jessica was sweet on one of the young college kids who had been doing some fieldwork for the University of Arizona’s archaeology department over the last couple of months. The whole team was using the R.V. park as a base camp while excavating some ancient cave dwellings Mac had found in Ruby’s Lucky Monk mine. Being that Jess was only sixteen and the boy was closer to twenty, everyone had been keeping an eye on the two to make sure nothing more than hand holding and stolen kisses were making headlines in Jess’s daily news.

  Jess’s face turned as red as her shoulder length curls. “Were you spying on me?”

  “I don’t have to spy, kid. You’re horrible at hiding the truth. Ask Chester.”

  The old boy tsked. “Your face is one big freckled tell. You’re gonna need to work on it in the mirror if you want to partner with me in Euchre in the future.”

  Grumbling about how unfair life was, Jess grabbed her backpack and hopped off the barstool.

  “Don’t eat anything else after that sandwich.” Claire called after the kid as she shoved through the old blanket. “Chester said he’s going to barbecue some burgers later for supper.”

  The blanket hadn’t stopped moving before Ronnie pushed through into the rec room. “Hey, Claire, there’s a lady out here who needs change for the laundry room, but the cash drawer is locked.”

  Claire pulled the keys from her pocket and tossed them to her sister. “Give those to Jess. She’s going to run the store for me for a while.”

  “Got it.”

  “You working at The Shaft tonight?” she asked Ronnie.

  “I wasn’t scheduled to, but I’m going there anyway to help. Katie could use the support. I have a feeling she may want to get out of there early tonight.”

  “That’s right. Butch comes home today.”

  “I saw his pickup in the parking lot,” Jess yelled, eavesdropping from the other side of the blanket. “But Kate’s car wasn’t there.”

  Claire frowned at Ronnie. “Where’s Kate?”

  She hadn’t seen her younger sister all day, and that had Claire a little worried. Kate had really locked her jaws on the idea that the biker guy at the bar the other night was the Polar Bear. Something told her that Kate wasn’t going to let this rash notion go until Claire could prove the biker’s innocence.

  “She got a phone call this morning from the school in Yuccaville. They needed her to substitute.”

  Claire had forgotten about Kate getting state approval to be a substitute teacher. “Oh, good.” At least she wasn’t stalking the biker. Then she remembered how nutty Kate had been of late and wondered if a classroom full of kids would knock her more off her axis. “Or maybe not.”

  Maybe Claire should help out at The Shaft, too, after she wrapped up demolition. A full day of teaching and a night of waiting tables wasn’t easy for anyone, let alone a pregnant woman.

  The phone rang.

  Ronnie disappeared back through the blanket as Claire picked up the phone extension Ruby kept on the bar. “Dancing Winnebagos R.V. Park.”

  “Hey, Slugger.” Mac’s voice in her ear made her smile. “How’s life in Jackrabbit Junction?”

  “Dusty.” She drew a heart in the layer of plaster dust coating the bar. “So can you get Friday off and make it a long weekend?”

  “Yes, but we need to talk this weekend. Alone.”

  “About the Humdigger mine?”

  “And something else.” His tension registered on Claire’s uh-oh radar. She drew a sun with a wavy worried smile. “Did Ruby and your grandfather take off this morning as planned?”

  “Yes.” But that didn’t matter right now. First off, she’d been burning with curiosity for long enough. “What did you find out about the mine?” She didn’t want to wait until this weekend to hear. “Is it real? Does Ruby own it?”

  “According to the Arizona Department of Mines and Mineral Resources, it’s legit and it’s owned by one Joe Martino, or rather his widow since he’s no longer alive to claim it.”

  “Where is it?”

  “In the area.”

  “Weren’t there coordinates listed in the records?”

  “Yes, there were, but I’m not going to give them to you.”

  “Mac,” she started.

  “No way, sweetheart. I know you too well. You’ll hang up the phone and go out looking for it.”

  “I won’t either.”

  “Claire.” He echoed her earlier tone.

  “Okay, maybe I’d go take a peek, but I’d wait for you to go inside.”

  “I’m not taking that risk. Besides, there’s no easement to get to the property. You’d have to trespass to even go near it.”

  “No easement?
Who owns the neighboring property?”

  “I’m not telling you that either.”

  She growled through the line at him, drawing an unhappy face in the dust. “What if I promise I’ll be good?”

  He laughed. “I wasn’t born yesterday, Slugger. You’d be crossing your fingers behind your back when you promised. I’m not going to tell you anything more than I have already. You can wait for me to get there, and we’ll check it out together.”

  “Spoilsport.”

  Chester leaned over and wrote in the dust next to her doodles: Mine? She shook her head in reply.

  “Hey, I want you to deliver on all of your promises about nakedness, which you can’t do if you’re behind bars in Sheriff Harrison’s jail for trespassing.”

  Mac had a point there, and she really didn’t want to end up in jail again so soon after the Deadwood mess. “Okay, okay. I’ll be patient. What’s the other thing you want to talk to me about?”

  “Some good news.”

  “I could use good news right now.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I sort of have a tiny mess to clean up here.”

  Chester guffawed. “Tiny? This place looks like someone threw a grenade in here.”

  “You want to muzzle that yap trap, Thomas?”

  “How’s life with Chester?”

  “He’s helping me with the rec room remodel.” Claire pinched Chester, making him grunt and curse.

  “You mean drinking beers, smoking cigars, and critiquing your work?”

  “Bingo. So, give me some good news.”

  “Maybe I should wait on delivering that, too.”

  Claire’s heart thudded a little faster at his somber tone. “No way, teaser.” She tried to keep things light, now worried about more than the messes she was dealing with in Jackrabbit Junction. “Spill it, Sweet Buns. I could use a little sugar here.”

  Her use of the old boys’ nickname for Mac drew a chuckle from him. “You’ve been hanging around Chester too long. How are your sisters?”

  “Ronnie is pissed at the law and Kate is cuckoo.”

  “So nothing has changed since the last time I asked?”

  “Not a thing.”

  Actually that wasn’t true. Ronnie seemed to have turned some corner. Or maybe she’d just reached a new level of anger in the stages of grief brought on by her divorce from her ex-piece-of-shit.

  “Mom and Manny are home now, though.”

  “Damn. I was counting on a few more days of reprieve from your mother’s scorn.”

  Claire’s mother continually made it clear to Mac how unfit she felt he was for her daughter, even though Deborah never hesitated to tell her daughter how unfit she was for life in general.

  “You and me both.” Pleasing her mother was impossible. Manny would soon find out the prize fish he thought he’d caught was really a Great White Shark with a never ending supply of sharp teeth. “On a high note, Mom is moving into Manny’s Airstream.”

  “How did you accomplish that miracle?”

  Claire glanced around the demolition zone. “I let the house get too messy for her fancy clothes and sensitive allergies.”

  “Whatever you do, don’t clean it.”

  “No worries on that front.” She wiped the top of the bar clean. “So quit stalling and tell me your news.”

  Silence filled the line.

  A whirlwind spun to life in Claire’s gut. She gripped the bar, bracing for whatever had him hesitating. Oh, crud. He hadn’t gone and bought an engagement ring or something foolish like that, had he? She’d been working hard on overcoming her commitment phobia, and while saying ‘I love you’ was getting easier, she was nowhere close to stomaching the ‘I do’ freefall.

  “I’ve been offered a promotion at work,” he finally said.

  She sagged against the bar in relief. “That’s great.” When he didn’t agree with her, she added, “Isn’t it?”

  “Yes and maybe.”

  “What do you mean maybe?”

  “Well, it’s a position I’ve been wanting and working toward for years and would mean a lot more pay.”

  “More money is always good.”

  “It would also mean a lot more traveling.”

  “You mean to job sites each day?” Mac often worked long hours driving to and from job sites, so that wasn’t a big stretch.

  “And even further a few times a month via airplane.”

  “Oh.”

  “But the raise would easily cover the cost of you traveling with me. You wouldn’t need to work at all anymore.”

  Claire looked around the rec room, taking in the disorder that resembled her life. “Oh,” she said again, her brain unable to process what this meant to her future while surrounded by so much clutter and chaos.

  “I haven’t accepted the position yet.”

  “Why not?” If it was what he’d been working for over the last few years, it was his dream. He should jump on it.

  “Because of you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah, Claire. You. I want to know what you think of my taking the promotion.”

  “Mac, it’s your dream job, not mine.” She didn’t want to hold him back or stand in his way.

  “That’s true,” he said. “But I love you.”

  “I lo …” she coughed on some plaster dust and swallowed a gulp of Chester’s cheap beer. “I love y …” she coughed again, her throat tickling so much her eyes watered.

  “Let’s drop it for now.” He sounded tired. Or maybe frustrated. “I had a feeling you wouldn’t be jumping for joy over this news.”

  “No, it’s just,” she coughed, “I have dust in my throat.”

  “Dust. Right. Listen, I need to get back to work.”

  “I love you.” It came out sounding gargled, but at least she’d gotten it out.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow night, Slugger.”

  The line went dead.

  “Shit sticks!” She fell back onto the barstool next to Chester, feeling like a wrecking ball had torn through her world. Even more so with the piles of construction debris surrounding her.

  What a mess she’d made.

  Of everything.

  She took another swig of Chester’s beer.

  And now Mac was going to want an answer this weekend about taking that promotion.

  She pulled the hammer from her tool belt and turned it over in her hands. You wouldn’t need to work at all anymore.

  “I’m no mind reader,” Chester said, stealing his beer back, “but you look like a girl who’s up to her hips in alligators.”

  “Not my hips.” She sighed, leaning back against the bar. “More like my neck.”

  Chapter Six

  Kate leaned against the wall of the bathroom stall, closing her eyes for a moment while she caught her breath. The throbbing bass din of The Shaft reverberated through the ladies room door. Butch’s face floated across her thoughts, spurring another geyser of panic up from her stomach. She bent over the toilet again.

  Panting in between gulps of air, she tried not to think about the fly carcass on the floor next to the tampon wastebasket or the myriad of smells that came with toilet bowl close-ups. She’d taken to carrying travel packs of antiseptic wipes in her purse to save herself from catching some icky disease from all of the toilets she’d face-planted over the last month.

  After a few swallows of stomach acid, the nausea ebbed. She leaned back against the stall door, wiping her mouth with a piece of toilet paper and flushed away her woes. “Stupid morning sickness.”

  She had a feeling this churning gutful of anxiety had more to do with the return of one Valentine “Butch” Carter to Jackrabbit Junction than the hormonal effects of his child growing inside of her.

  What am I gonna do?

  There was no avoiding him anymore. Butch was back, those broad shoulders and long legs right here under the same roof as she. Even worse, his heartbreaking smile and mesmerizing blue eyes were waiting for her in his office at this ve
ry moment.

  Fifteen minutes ago she had been delivering a pitcher of beer to a table full of spandex-clothed cyclists who were cruising down U.S. Route 191, aiming for the finish line in Douglas, Arizona, when Butch walked up behind her and shattered her thin veneer of calm.

  “Kate, I need to talk to you.”

  She’d nearly dumped the beer in a cyclist’s lap at the sound of Butch’s voice. Her heart took off like it was being chased by a man in a hockey mask wielding a chainsaw.

  “I’m a little busy right now.” She’d avoided meeting Butch’s gaze, making a stage production out of smiling at the cyclists, trying to keep her ruffled feathers hidden.

  “Meet me in my office in five minutes.” His tone left no room for argument. Then he was gone.

  Thank God the cyclists had been too busy chowing down on their sandwiches to notice how badly Kate had been shaking as she topped off their mugs of beer. After making sure they were good for the time being, she’d made a mad dash for the bathroom.

  Now as she stood there debating whether to crawl across the bar’s floor to escape without being seen, she wondered what Butch would do if she didn’t show up in his office. Maybe she could send him a text saying how tired she was after babysitting a classroom full of sixth graders all day and needed to take off early. Ronnie was there to cover for her, so it wasn’t like she’d be leaving Butch shorthanded.

  The bathroom door creaked open.

  Kate froze, breath held.

  “Katie-doll?” Arlene asked. “Are you in here?”

  Kate’s knees about buckled in relief at the sound of the other waitress’s voice. “Yes,” she called over the top of the stall door. “I needed to use the bathroom quick.”

  Arlene was well aware of Kate’s rabid state of pregnancy—as in sick as a dog and foaming at the mouth most days when she wasn’t having to pee for the umpteenth time during her shift. She’d been a good friend since starting at The Shaft back in September. In spite of Claire’s numerous suspicions about the fifty-plus-year-old who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, Kate believed Arlene’s tale about why she’d chosen this dusty corner of the world to enjoy her pre-golden years. Yuccaville wasn’t Sedona, but there were plenty of men thanks to the Copper Snake Mining Company, in case a woman got lonely and wanted some company to make her forget about life’s kicks and punches for a while.