by Amber Foxx
“I’m sure you can.” Their eyes met. “But I hope I find out that he’s faithful to you. And I hope I can find out. Whose stuff did you bring me, if you couldn’t bring something of Zak’s?”
“Will’s. I got the idea to grab it while I was cleaning at Tana’s place.”
“That might not work.”
“Sure it could. He’s part of their secret and he was at Zak’s party. Since Zak doesn’t give that kind of party and he doesn’t like Will and the guy from the pottery booth was there, the party had to be a cover-up for them having a meeting. You could find out about all of them this way.”
Mae picked up the bag from the table. It was full of empty tobacco tins and cigarette packs. She recoiled and Melody laughed. “I figured you’d think it was disgusting. That’s why I left it on the porch.”
“What’s disgusting is that all this was lying around your sister’s place.”
“That’s the Chino sisters’ housekeeping.” Melody let out a whoop of laughter. “You saw my place before you and Jamie cleaned it.”
“Yeah.” That was a wreck. “You know, if I see the party, I might find out about their meeting, but I wouldn’t see Zak and Letitia alone.”
“You could see how he acts around her when I’m not there. I almost called Will to ask him if he saw anything, but knowing him, he’d have made something up to make trouble for Zak, and he was too drunk to remember, anyway.”
Mae put down the bag of Will’s tobacco trash. All of these packages had ridden in his pocket. There would be a lot of his energy in any one of them. And yet she hesitated. He was her client. She felt she owed him a respect she didn’t owe Reno, who had called her a witch and betrayed people left and right. Will had wanted to clean up his act. But he hadn’t done so completely, if he was still part of this secret, and it was hurting Melody. Her marriage was suffering. She had to know what Zak was hiding. “Okay. I don’t promise results, but I’ll give it a try.”
After Melody’s workout, she left, and Mae prepared for a psychic journey. The indirect route she had to take might be for the best, less intrusive, since she was unlikely to witness anything too private between Zak and Letitia. She sat on the floor holding one of the empty tobacco tins, chose her crystals, and set the question to focus her search. What does Will know about Letitia? What has he seen that would tell me about her and Zak?
The tunnel took her vision to a half-dirt, half-paved parking lot between a row of adobe buildings and a strip mall. Will, smoking a cigarette, paced around his jeep. It was parked in front of a shop whose sign read The Exotic Aviary. A sign in the window advertised a sale on bird supplies. He glanced in the window, squinting against the glare on the glass.
“Shit.” He took another drag and ground out his cigarette. “She needs more animals like she needs a hole in her head. “
He entered a room displaying bird cages, food, and toys, and books with various parrots on the covers. On the other side of a glass wall was a room full of cages with an open space in the middle, where smoothed branches had been turned into perches. Shelli held up a small, crested, rose-colored bird on her wrist and waved at Will with her free hand. He scowled. She smiled in return, gently passing the bird to Letitia, and the two women spoke softly.
Will walked to the door of the bird room. “I thought we came here for the sale on bird food.”
Letitia sidled up, petting the cockatoo. “I know, Willie, but I am so tempted. Peaches would love to have a little friend, wouldn’t she?”
Will shrugged. “It’s your money, darling.” She practically danced back to Shelli. “Or mine,” he added under his breath. “I’d better win at the slots.”
Startled, Mae lost her focus. The last thing she’d expected to find was that Will’s other woman was Letitia. It would be ironic if she was cheating on him with Zak, but it would fit Zak’s agenda perfectly if he wanted to punish both Melody and Will. He didn’t know, though. He would have told Montana, to get Will out of her life sooner.
Mae had learned nothing about Zak. Still, the fact that Will and Letitia knew their way around this bird store made his finding—or stealing—the parrots less strange. How did it lead up to the parrots in the gallery, though? Mae refocused, and broadened her questions, seeking anything in Will’s past that would tell her about Reno and Zak or Kathy Chavez-Mirabal’s gallery.
When her vision emerged from the tunnel, she saw Will smoking in a parking lot again. She recognized this one, situated between the side of a long white building with red and green trim and a stand of scrubby trees. He was outside Rio Bravo Fine Art in T or C. Relaxed, enjoying his smoke, Will leaned against the passenger door of a white pickup decorated with paintings of mountains. On the door panel a nighthawk flew under a moon that lit the peaks, while on the side of the bed an eagle soared under the sun.
David Mirabal pulled up in a dusty gray van and got out. Shelli remained inside, primping in the rearview mirror. Kathy, in the back seat, leaned forward to talk to her.
Mae guessed she was seeing the past. David’s belly was a bit smaller and his braids a little shorter. He walked around the painted truck, jingling his keys. “That’s amazing. It looks like Orville Geronimo’s work. On a truck.”
Will started to speak when his younger brother Refugio came out of the gallery and jogged toward him. “You’d better go in, bro’. She wants to show off her model.”
“Shit.” Will pushed off the truck. “I hate these gallery parties. Everybody sober and over fifty.”
Shelli got out of the van. She was a little slimmer, too, and her hair was longer and pure black. Kathy followed, carrying two small white boxes tied with gold cord, a parrot feather stuck in the bowknot of each one.
As the five of them walked toward the front of the gallery, Will said, “I’m Will Baca. Mescalero Apache. Wildman Will to rodeo fans. And this is my little brother Refugio. Owner of the truck.”
The group paused for Kathy, David, and Shelli to shake hands with the brothers and introduce themselves by name and tribe. David said, “That’s some great art you’re driving around. I could swear it looks like Orville Geronimo did it.”
“No,” Refugio said. “His son. My parents gave me the truck for my sixteenth birthday and had Reno paint it. He was only a senior in high school, so it was a lot cheaper than having his dad do it.”
Will grinned. “For my sixteenth birthday I got grounded. Or did I get arrested? You remember?”
“No. You were always in so much trouble, it’s one big blur.”
“That’s the truth.” They resumed their progress. “Reno gonna be here tonight?”
“Yeah. He’s in there with that lady Tish wants to talk to.” Refugio spoke to the Mirabal family. “She’s in line to see this artist, Florencia Mirabal. Are you guys related?”
“Yes,” Kathy said cautiously. “We’re here to see her, too.”
“She’s got a parrot on a leash. And I think she’s got Reno on a leash, too. He just stands there like she told him to stay.” Refugio imitated someone giving a dog a command. “I haven’t had a chance to say more than hello to him.”
“When you do,” Will said, “watch your tongue about Tish. He’d tell Misty. And Montana doesn’t need to know what she doesn’t need to know.”
“You got me trained, bro’. I’m on my leash.”
They reached the gallery door. Shelli asked Will, “You’ve got two girlfriends?”
“Why not?” He took a final puff and put out his cigarette. “I’m not married. And I like to live dangerously. I can have as many girlfriends as I want.”
Shelli gave Will a crooked smile, shaking her head. David put his arm around her and kissed her on the cheek. “One woman is enough for me.”
They followed the Baca brothers inside. Refugio led the way through the front room, where quilts and other fiber art were displayed, past shelves of pottery, and through a large room with abstract paintings on the wall where a cluster of people stood talking around a table full of drinks and snack
s. The group proceeded up a short flight of stairs, through a hallway hung with small paintings, and into a gallery space displaying much larger works, including the Cowboy Angel. Florencia stood in front of it with Letitia, Reno, and several people Mae recognized as T or C residents, though she didn’t know their names. Reno wore small, dark-framed glasses that made him look even more serious than usual. Mae thought the man standing next to him might be the gallery owner, someone she’d seen with Niall on other Art Hop nights.
Letitia beamed at Will and reached out to him, pulling him closer. “This is Will. I’ve done some wonderful portraits of him.”
Florencia, healthy looking and strong, her hair and glasses frames rainbow-colored, had Violet on her shoulder. The bird wore a dainty harness and her owner held the leash, but Violet seemed disinclined to fly away. Turning one huge yellow-rimmed eye to regard Will, she whistled like a construction worker eyeing a pretty woman. Florencia laughed. “If Delmas ever does a cowboy devil, you should model.”
Will drew back, looking at the angel man. “Me? That’s gay art.”
“I bet women like him, too.” Refugio gave him a light punch in the arm. “It’s the Baca curse, bro. Pretty boys.” He added in a whisper, “I think she’s flirting with you.”
Letitia gave the brothers a warning look and smiled at Florencia. “I was wondering if you could introduce me to Mr. Howe. I know how much you like my work, and I was thinking of doing a new calendar, with his permission. I’d call it Howe-dy, Pardner—a tribute. Real cowboys posing like his paintings.”
Florencia sipped her drink, then addressed the people circled around her. “I suppose he should let Letitia do it. It would be her chance to move out of pornography.”
Letitia’s jaw dropped. “I don’t do pornography. I do art photography.”
Florencia let out a guffaw. “No. It’s good pornography, mind you, but it’s not art.” She spoke aside to Reno, but loudly enough for others to hear. “That naked cowboy calendar in my bathroom? She did that.”
Reno looked at his feet. The other people regarded Letitia, their expressions a mixture of embarrassment and amusement, and then moved away, one man wishing her luck with a suggestion of doubt in his tone. She gazed after them, her hands opening and then clenching, her lips parted for words that never came out.
Kathy, David, and Shelli closed in, approaching Florencia. Shelli cooed to Violet, telling the bird how beautiful she was. Florencia stepped back, her shoulders braced, her eyes narrowed, one hand going to her bird’s breast.
“Flo, please. Don’t look at us like that,” Kathy said. “I know Severus was awful the last time we met, but I divorced him years ago. We should get past that.”
“And what prompted this sudden warmth from my estranged family?”
David said, “Our family is about to grow,” and gave Shelli a glowing look. “It seemed like the right time to include you in it.”
They handed Florencia the gift boxes, having to offer twice before she accepted them.
“Hold this.” She handed Reno one of the boxes and held the other up for Violet to snip the knot. David gasped as the massive beak touched the package. “Don’t be silly,” Florencia snapped and opened the box. “She’s not going to hurt anything.”
Will shook his head, muttering “bitch” under his breath, and wandered behind her with Refugio to look at the Cowboy Angel. It had a sold tag beside it. Will peered at the price and whistled through his teeth. “Holy shit. Who in hell bought that? I’ve never had that much spare cash in my life.”
“I bought it.” Florencia turned to him. “And I’m sorry Letitia doesn’t pay you well for hanging on my bathroom wall. Maybe you should get a real job.”
“She doesn’t have to pay me. She’s a nice woman and I’d work for her for free. And for your information, ma’am,” he took a sarcastic little bow, “I’m a real cowboy. Not just a model. And I’m damned glad my picture can’t see you naked in your bathroom or it’d jump off the wall and flush itself.”
Letitia exclaimed and the Mirabal family looked stunned, while Refugio stifled a snort of laughter. Florencia took it all in, then faced her relatives. “Now that’s what I call an honest man. Unlike you sycophantic coattail riders.” She handed the gift boxes back to David and Shelli. “Nice try.”
Kathy protested, “Flo. We’re not kissing up to you. This is sincere. I have a gallery now. I’d like to show the early works you left in Acoma, if you’d allow that. Make you part of our circle. We want you to have a family. Meet your grandniece or nephew in eight months.”
“You want to show the world that crap I painted when I was Reno’s age? I was flailing around like he is now, trying to find my style. You don’t want me as family. You want to bait people into your gallery to buy your son’s and your daughter-in-law’s pottery. If you really wanted me in your circle, you wouldn’t have waited until it was so useful to include me.”
Florencia strode away and stopped at the door to the hall, giving Reno a commanding look. He said, “In a minute. I want to catch up with Refugio. I haven’t seen him for ages.”
“He can come with us.”
“In a minute.”
Reno watched her leave. He shoved his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched in. “I’m sorry she was so rude. She’s had a bad day.”
“And so she took it out on people who were trying to be nice to her?” Will asked.
“She’s taking it out on everybody.”
“Including you?”
Reno nodded.
“What are you to her, anyway? Her toy boy?”
The young artist sighed. He looked at the Mirabal family, at the Baca brothers, and then at the floor. “Dad asked her to teach me as a favor to him. I liked her a lot at first.”
“A lot?” Will elbowed him. “I gave her a hard time, but she’s not bad-looking for her age.”
Reno turned partially away. “She’s my father’s ex-wife. It would have been weird.”
“She must have acted really different at first, if you liked her,” Shelli said. “She doesn’t deserve that lovely macaw. I thought she was awful. Not just to us. To ...” She turned to Letitia. “I didn’t get your name.” Letitia gave it, and Shelli continued. “Calling your work pornography. Kathy has one of your calendars in her office—the firefighters—and it’s fun, it’s not obscene.”
“Thank you. Florencia doesn’t actually think it is, either. She’s a big fan of my calendars, but whenever we meet she puts me down. It’s her idea of a joke. I was planning to talk to the owner here about showing my portraits, and she blew it for me. It’s been hard to get a gallery show in Santa Fe, so I thought I’d try T or C.”
Shelli gave her a sympathetic look. “If Kathy didn’t have a gallery, we’d just be doing powwows and feasts.”
“I’m sorry I don’t carry photography.” Kathy sounded more angry than apologetic. “Or I’d offer to show your work, and we could invite Florencia and make her eat her words. But my gallery is exclusively pueblo art.”
“I was hoping you’d say Indian art.” Reno pushed his glasses up. “It’s hard to get a break. Florencia’s gotten so controlling, I was going to stop studying with her. But I couldn’t do it. I still need the lessons. And the connections.”
“Lessons?” David said. “Your work on Refugio’s truck looks pretty polished.”
“It looks like Dad’s work, though. And Florencia says my own style is too generic. That you could hang it in a motel.”
“You do great nature scenes,” Refugio assured him. “I really like your paintings. More than that abstract stuff downstairs. When you paint a mountain, it looks like a mountain.”
Kathy asked for his business card and gave him hers. “I know Florencia expects you now, but stay in touch. And when she turns you loose for the evening, give me a call. We may still be in town. Having dinner with Letitia and the Baca brothers, if they’re free to join us.”
Reno fingered her card. “I’m Apache. You only sell pueblo art.
”
“We could still have a drink.”
Will led the way toward the exit. “Reno and Refugio aren’t old enough to drink. I’ll have to have their drinks for them.”
Mae chose to break into the vision. She’d learned more about Will than she wanted to but nothing about Zak, and she didn’t have much mental energy left for another journey. It was frustrating.
Taking a break to renew herself, she went out to sit on the back steps. The heat was intense in the tiny wedge of shade cast by the house, and the chaos of the deck in progress made the setting less serene than usual, but Niall and Kenny were taking the weekend off from the job, and she still had the view of Turtleback Mountain. The sleeping turtle shape on its rocky crest gave her a peaceful feeling. She set her crystals in the sun instead of salt water this time, and let the light do its work on them while she sorted out her thoughts.
Florencia’s reaction to Kathy’s reconciliation attempt had made sense, rude though it had been. Kathy’s timing looked more commercial than affectionate, motivated by promoting her business and David and Shelli’s careers. Perhaps they’d also been ready to welcome Florencia back into the family—until they met her.
The artist reminded Mae of a dog that had been kicked. Defensive, vigilant, habitually attacking. People couldn’t get close to her, unless, like Niall, they understood. She was lonely. Fragile, even, under that surface. She’d cried after she rejected Reno’s declaration of love.
Good thing she had turned him down, though. He had lost interest after an initial crush or liking. After that, he’d been forcing himself to pretend he still cared. What had made him endure such a suffocating connection for two years? Maybe a combination of needing her teaching, guilt when she got sick, and greed.
What would a rare early painting by a famous artist sell for? Mae had heard astronomical prices on the news when some great work of art sold at auction. Florencia’s paintings wouldn’t fetch billions, but they were valuable enough that Reno would only have needed to steal a few.
