Sam nodded. “Yep,” he said and smiled proudly. “Gold Dust wasn't nothing but a pitiful spot filled with falling down buildings and broken windows. But as soon as I laid eyes on this town I knew I wanted it. I saw what it could become. And what the hey, you know? Stephanie's old man was already close to killing me with his own bare hands, I was going crazy in that bank. And,” Sam added importantly, “Stephanie had been hinting at wanting to leave Los Angeles, even though she refused to tell me why. I don't think Gold Dust was her idea of a new beginning, though.”
“I guess not,” Momma Peach said with regret. But her look at Sam urged him to keep talking.
“There's not much more to say,” Sam admitted. “I took my wife and my money and moved away from Los Angeles and invested my energy into turning this little town into a home and a viable business. Stephanie insisted I was being foolish. I can be mighty stubborn at times and told her that she had two choices: leave or stand by me.” Sam looked at Hank. “I thought Stephanie was going to make tracks out of town, but instead, she stayed, adjusted, and settled down. I think...she grew tired of her old man always controlling her life and used our move to Gold Dust as a way to get even with him. Maybe I'm wrong? I'm not really sure why Stephanie stayed, but she did and I was grateful.”
Momma Peach glanced at Michelle. Michelle nodded. “The waters have been rocky lately, right?”
“The waters were always rocky,” Sam confessed, “but sure, the waters have been getting worse these last couple of years. The waters were rough way before I came to Gold Dust, too. You see, Stephanie could never have children. We tried, you know. I hired the best doctors I could find. Those high-priced phonies ran all their tests...it just wasn't meant to be. Stephanie blamed me, which really put a spur in our marriage. Maybe...not being able to be a daddy was one of the main reasons I wanted to ditch Los Angeles and move way out here.”
“I'm sorry, Sam,” Momma Peach told Sam.
Sam unfolded his arms. “Don't be, Momma Peach.” Sam looked at Michelle and then back at Momma Peach. “Stephanie's old man ended up going to prison for messing around with a lot of illegal numbers if you catch my drift. The FBI came down on the guy with hard fists. That was...oh, maybe five or six years after Stephanie and I left Los Angeles. After that, Stephanie seemed to settle down and accept her new life here in Gold Dust. She even refused to let me buy her a house in High Cliffs and insisted she live in town with me. I believe the heart went right out of my wife after her old man was hauled off to prison. Sure, she didn't like the guy controlling her life, but he was her old man, you know? And all the money, stocks, houses and cars he had lined up to leave Stephanie and her sister was snatched away right out from under them. That's a pretty hard punch in the gut.”
“The balloon popped, huh?” Momma Peach asked.
“Stephanie always had her old man to lean on,” Sam admitted. “So what if we ever called it quits? My wife had her old man's money to support her.” Sam shook his head. “But not anymore. Burt Endleton had every last penny stripped away from him, leaving his daughters zilch. Stephanie had to start depending on me.”
“And that's love?” Michelle asked in a confused voice. “Sounds more like a train wreck.”
Sam kinda laughed to himself. “I guess it does. But,” he added, “I left out some good parts.”
“Like what?” Michelle asked.
“Oh,” Sam smiled, “there was this one time when a storm caught me and Stephanie walking on a deserted beach. Instead of running for shelter we stood in the storm and kissed.” Momma Peach smiled to see the memory as it crossed Sam’s worn face. “And another time, when we were out riding the trails, a snake spooked Stephanie's horse and threw her off. Stephanie broke her ankle. I rode her back to the stables, carrying her in my arms the entire way...that was while we were courting each other.” Sam softened his voice. “I didn't mention the times I held my wife crying because she couldn't have children...or the times I carried her to bed because she always fell asleep on the couch reading the newest crime novel...or the times I would stand at the bathroom door and watch her brush her teeth with her hair all messy and her face grumpy...but so dang beautiful.”
Momma Peach wiped at a tear that was beginning to fall from her eye. “You're going to make me cry.”
“There was love,” Sam promised Michelle, “and there still is love,” he ended in a hopeful voice.
Momma Peach patted Sam's arm. “I'm sure there is still love,” she smiled.
The front door opened and a woman around Sam's age walked through the door wearing a straw sun hat on her head. “Whew, another hot one, Sam,” she said in an exhausted voice.
“Ladies, this is Melinda,” Sam said and introduced Melinda to Momma Peach and Michelle.
Momma Peach smiled. She liked the long, flowy, soft green short sleeve dress on Melinda. The dress was made from a nice, light cotton that made the woman look like maybe she wasn’t too bothered by the heat. Melinda looked at Momma Peach and smiled back. “I was just wondering if you are checking out today?” she asked in a polite voice. Sam waited for Momma Peach to reply.
Momma Peach shook her head no. “No,” she said, “Detective Chan and I are going to spend another night.” Sam smiled. Momma Peach caught his smile, too. “Has anyone ever told you that you look just like—”
“I know,” Melinda interrupted and blushed, “I look like the woman on that old doctor show. I get that all the time.”
Melinda had a soft, gentle, warm face accented by rosy red cheeks and pretty blue eyes. She was a lovely woman who was aging gracefully; the gray hair streaming out from under her sun hat was soft and freshly scented like lilacs. Momma Peach thought the woman was beautiful and felt a goodness in the woman that brought peace to her chest. “Well,” Momma Peach said, “I think I’m going to need some fresh towels if that's okay.”
“You bet,” Melinda told Momma Peach. “I'll bring fresh towels, washcloths, and some bottled water for your mini fridge.”
“And don't forget the toilet paper,” Momma Peach chuckled.
“Never,” Melinda said in a pretend shocked voice and raised her hands to her lips. “That would be a crime.”
Sam laughed. “What is Jack doing, Melinda?” he asked.
Melinda paused by Hank the buffalo on her way back to the door and patted his back. “Jack is sitting inside our RV under the air conditioner playing solitaire,” she told Sam.
“Yeah, we're not exactly booming today,” Sam replied. “Think you can handle cooking lunch and dinner?”
“Sure,” Melinda promised. “What time?”
“About noon and six, if that's okay with you ladies,” Sam said and focused on Momma Peach and Michelle. “I'll open up the restaurant about that time and you ladies can come and eat. I'm sure my famous continental breakfast of cereal and donuts wasn't too filling. I've never had anyone stay for more than one night in all the years I've been here. Cereal and donuts usually get people on the road.”
“I have snack bars hidden in my purse,” Momma Peach winked at Sam. Sam winked back.
“What about our third guest?” Sam asked Melinda.
“Mrs. Milkson will be staying a second night, too,” Melinda told Sam.
“This is a day for the record books,” Sam joked, but he stopped smiling when he saw the worried expression on Michelle's face. He began to wonder just why Mrs. Milkson was staying over in his town for a second night. “Well,” he said, “I better go check on the water pumps and get the restaurant ready.” Sam nodded at the front door. “Which means everyone has to leave the shop.”
“Oh,” Momma Peach said and hurried over to the front door. “We're being kicked out, Michelle,” she tried to joke. Michelle opened the front door wordlessly and walked out into the hot sun.
“Is she okay?” Melinda asked Momma Peach with concern.
“She ate too many donuts for breakfast,” Momma Peach replied and followed Michelle.
“That's funny,” Melinda commented to Sam as h
e closed up the shop, “There was only one donut missing from the donut tray I put out this morning.”
Sam walked to where Melinda stood at the front window and looked out into the bright day as Michelle walked across the street back to the hotel with Momma Peach. “Melinda, you and Jack keep your eyes open for anything strange, okay?”
“Strange?” Melinda asked, taken aback. Sam just nodded as he walked Melinda outside and locked the front door. The sun continued to burn in the clear blue sky.
Momma Peach walked through the front lobby just in time to see Michelle unlock the door to her room and go inside. “Best to leave my baby to her own thoughts for a while,” she murmured as she closed the front door behind her. Mrs. Milkson was nowhere in sight. The sight of the deserted lobby sent a cold chill through Momma Peach. She cautiously searched the floor for any sign of lizards and eased over to the armchair by the fireplace and plopped down. “How can a hot desert make the heart feel so cold?” she asked herself as she sat her pocketbook down on the floor and enjoyed the coolness.
The sound of a back door opening and closing caused Momma Peach to lean up in the chair. She focused her eyes on the hallway curiously. Seconds later, a short, plump man with a round face appeared. He had on a green baseball hat and a thin gray beard graced his friendly face. “Oh, hello,” Jack said and quickly scanned the lobby, “I was looking for my wife.”
“You must be Jack,” Momma Peach said and studied Jack. The man surely wasn't the best dresser in the world, that was for sure, Momma Peach thought and shook her head at the green, short sleeve shirt Jack had tucked into a pair of old blue jeans. Green was a beautiful color. Momma Peach loved – adored – the color green. But somehow Jack had managed to find the ugliest green shirt she had ever seen in her natural life.
“Yes, ma’am,” Jack said in an easy voice. He looked at Momma Peach with eyes that were not threatening or dangerous. “Ma’am, are you—”
“My name is Momma Peach,” Momma Peach interrupted Jack with a friendly smile.
“Sounds like you're from Georgia, Momma Peach.”
“I sure am,” Momma Peach replied in a proud voice.
“I was born and raised in Mississippi until I was ten. Then my parents divorced and my mother moved me to Los Angeles,” Jack explained. “Boy, there's nothing like a hot, southern summer night filled with lightning bugs...not fire flies...but good old fashioned lightning bugs.”
Momma Peach grinned and nodded. “You preach it, Jack,” she beamed. “And don't forget the cold lemonade sitting next to my favorite back porch rocking chair.”
“You're making me homesick,” Jack said fondly to Momma Peach.
“Baby, if you're homesick, why are you out here in this desert?” Momma Peach asked, taking the opportunity to ask a camouflaged question.
Jack looked down at the pair of old work shoes he was wearing and then back up at Momma Peach. “Money,” he answered honestly. “I'm not proud to admit it, but I lost my retirement at a poker table in Los Angeles. I'm still not sure why my wife hasn't left me yet.”
“Love,” Momma Peach promised in a kind tone, “love keeps the heart moving through brick walls.”
“Isn't that the truth,” Jack agreed. “Well, I better go find my wife. Oh, by the way, are you staying over or checking out?”
“Staying over.”
“Really?” Jack asked in a shocked voice. He cleared his voice. “What I mean is—”
“This town isn't Honolulu, right?” Momma Peach smiled.
Jack bit down on his lower lip. “Yeah,” he said in chagrin and studied the lobby. “Sam is a good man and he pays decent. But I'll be glad when Melinda and I pull out of this place.”
Momma Peach saw a shadow fall over Jack's face. “You worried about something?”
“This place doesn't sit well with me, that's all,” Jack confessed. “Ma’am...Momma Peach, I'm sixty-one years old. I spent twenty-eight long, tedious years teaching English to a bunch of thick-headed high school kids that still couldn’t write a proper sentence when I was done with them, no matter how much I tried. I lived out those years in an overcrowded city raging with crime and pollution. I've seen gang fights in my own classroom…kids stabbed…teachers quit because they were afraid of their own students. I stuck through it all, day after day, because I believed if I quit on my students they would quit on themselves.” Jack shook his head. “I learned to have certain instincts being a teacher. I learned how to understand my students...which ones deserved to be taught and which ones were a waste of time...as horrible as that might sound to you.”
“I understand. Keep talking.”
Jack walked over to the bookshelf, examining the books. “I learned how to tell the good from the bad, and this place is bad...sour.” Jack pulled out a book by Dorothy Johnson. “'The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance'” he read the title aloud. “Classic.”
“Yes, it is,” Momma Peach agreed.
Jack put the book back and retrieved a book written by Jack Schaeffer. “'Shane'” he read the title to Momma Peach. “See, kids today wouldn't know a classic from a comic book.” Jack put the book back. He looked around the lobby again. “This town has a bad story to it, Momma Peach. You're probably aware of the shootout that took place between the Milson Gang and Sheriff Dunfill?”
Momma Peach pointed at a small, round wooden table sitting next to the front door. The table was neatly covered with brochures containing the history of Gold Dust. “I read the brochure.”
Jack nodded. “Sam did a decent job cramming the history of this town into a few paragraphs,” he said. “I've studied the actual history.”
“And it's the history of this town that scares you, isn't it?” Momma Peach said, surprised to read as much in Jack's troubled face.
“That ugly tree standing in front of the courthouse has had many men hanging from its limbs,” Jack told Momma Peach. “The most famous hanging that took place in Gold Dust was the hanging of Billy Milson and his brother Tom Milson. Sheriff Dunfill, alone mind you, managed to shoot down Brady Milson and chase down Billy and Tom with a posse.” Jack kept his eyes on the front door. “Gold Dust was once a thriving town. Way up the road in High Cliffs people were striking gold. The gold strike ran between the years 1861 and 1967. This little town was a midway point for weary travelers heading west to find gold or for the rich men who had struck gold traveling back east.”
“Like a rest station?”
“Exactly,” Jack agreed. “A man known as Farmer Dunfill from Tennessee built this town from scratch after he realized the need for a rest station town. Farmer Dunfill later became the mayor, the sheriff and the judge in Gold Dust. He was a daring man who came west after being wounded in the Civil War. He fought with the Confederate Army and took a slug to his right leg.”
“I respect the army men.”
Jack nodded. “I agree,” he said and moved on. “Farmer Dunfill kept Gold Dust dry of liquor and focused on making the town a safe stop for people. He was a good man. He was married to a good woman and had four sons. But the Milson Gang changed him.”
“How?”
“Brady Milson gunned down Mrs. Dunfill in cold blood while Farmer Dunfill was away at High Cliffs helping Sheriff Moreland.” Jack sighed. “Billy and Tom Milson shot down Farmer Dunfill's sons. Later, they all came back for Farmer Dunfill himself, too. But Farmer Dunfill was waiting.”
“Oh my, how awful,” Momma Peach exclaimed. “I don't like to hear such sad stories. No sir and no ma’am. I want to go wash my ears out.”
“I'm telling you the actual history of this town,” Jack told Momma Peach. “I wasn't aware of the history when Melinda and I arrived. I'm a history buff so I made a few trips to the library up in High Cliffs. When I uncovered the true history...my heart told me to take my wife and leave this place. The truth is...we need the money. And Sam, he's been good to Melinda and me.”
“He has?” Momma Peach asked.
Jack nodded. “Sam gave us our first week’s pay in advanc
e when he found out we were broke. He doesn't charge us for the food we eat at the restaurant, either. When the town is empty of people, he opens the restaurant for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and lets us eat free.”
“Including Andy Dannity?” Momma Peach asked.
Jack turned and looked at Momma Peach. “That man is sour,” he warned. “I can get along with almost anyone. Sam and I get along really well. But I can't find any common ground with Andy Dannity. Truth of the matter is...that man scares me.”
Momma Peach nodded. “I agree,” she said and slightly shifted directions. “Jack, have you seen a lot of people since you and your lovely wife...and oh, Melinda is a beautiful baby...arrived in Gold Dust?”
“A few,” Jack confessed. “Mostly families traveling to and from the Los Angeles area. I'm not exactly skilled with my hands, so Sam lets me manage the front desk of this hotel. With his wife, he's stretched thin at times. Sam usually doesn't let seasonal workers handle money, but he seems to trust me.”
Momma Peach nodded and then cautiously asked: “Have you seen a man by the name of Ben Fleishman?” Momma Peach skillfully sketched out Ben Fleishman's description to Jack with careful detail. Jack listened and then paced around the lobby in deep thought.
“No, I can't say I remember anyone from that description,” Jack told Momma Peach and rubbed his bearded chin. “There haven’t been many visitors since Sam opened for the season. I'd say...maybe at best, thirty people have stayed over at this hotel...no more than one night. This road is off the beaten path, taken mostly by people who want to see the sights and get off the main roads. And as you can see, we're a considerable distance from any town, too.”
“Don't I know it,” Momma Peach said and stood up just as Melinda opened the front door and rushed inside. Her face was pale, sweaty, and full of panic. “I...Sam...he opened the restaurant...I...”
Jack ran over to Melinda in concern and placed his hands on her shoulders. “What is it?”
Melinda stared at Jack in horror. “I...went to the walk-in cooler to...” Tears began streaming from Melinda's eyes. “That woman...Mrs. Milkson...oh, Jack,” Melinda cried out and threw her face into her husband's shoulder. “She's dead...someone stabbed her to death.”
A Peachy Mess Page 3
