Trouble at the Red Pueblo

by Liz Adair

  The fellow smiled. “Of course it was a different color and didn’t have flames all over the bonnet.”

  “I’d like it better if this one was a little less conspicuous.” Spider stepped into the shade under the awning. “So what did you think of it at seventeen?”

  “I thought I’d much rather have an E-type Jag.”

  Spider rubbed his jaw as he did the math. “Didn’t Jaguar quit making the E-types in the mid ‘70s?”

  The stranger’s dark eyes twinkled. “Yes. My father wanted to keep me humble. I told him driving a twenty-year-old E-type would do the joke.”

  “Do the joke? Oh, you mean it would do the trick.”

  “Yes. Do the trick. I’ve got to practice that one.

  “I take it he didn’t buy your argument?”

  “He didn’t buy the argument or the Jag. He bought a brand new Yugo.”

  Spider chuckled and stuck out his hand. “By the way, my name’s Spider Latham.”

  “Spider, you said?” The stranger clasped his hand. “I am Karam Mansour.”

  “Where you from, Karam?”

  “By birth and,” he touched his heart, “in here, I am Palestinian, from Gaza. But I live and work in Dubai.”

  “Is that so?” Spider leaned a shoulder against one of the pillars supporting the awning. “So what brings you to this neck of the woods?”

  Karam’s brows came together. “I do not understand this… neck in the… woods, was it?”

  Spider stood. “Sorry. I was just wondering what you’re doing in these parts. Around here. In Kanab.”

  Karam’s white teeth flashed. He took out his phone and tapped the screen several times and then began keying in the phrase, saying each word softly as he spelled it. “I collect American idioms, since I teach American History.” He put the phone back in his pocket. “To answer your question, I was on my way to San Diego, and my car broke down. The man at the garage sent me to a man who is confident he can fix it, but we are awaiting parts.”

  “Oh. How long’s it going to take?”

  “Two weeks.”

  “Two weeks? Great suffering zot! Where do the parts have to come from?”

  “Unfortunately, from London.”

  “What kind of a car do you have? No, don’t tell me. A 1974 E-Type Jag?”

  Karam raised his hands in surrender. “It’s a ’73, and I perfectly understand why my father would not buy me one.”

  Spider laughed. “Speaking of being humble, there’s nothing lower than being afoot in a one-horse town.”

  Noting the confused look on Karam’s face, Spider changed the wording. “There’s nothing worse than not having transportation in a very small town.”

  “It is very inconvenient. There is a museum in the next town that I wanted to see, but there is only one taxi in Kanab. He is already booked.”

  “The Red Pueblo? I was just getting set to go down there myself. Want to come with me?”

  “That would be excellent.”

  “Tell you what. How about you drive the Yugo and follow me, so I can drop my rig off for my wife. Then we’ll head on down to the museum.”

  Karam agreed, and the Yugo shadowed Spider’s truck to the Taylor residence. When Laurie answered Spider’s knock, she put her finger to her lips and said, “They’re both sleeping.”

  “I just wanted to give you this.” He held out the pickup keys in one hand and the plastic bag carrying her cell phone in the other.

  As she took them, she spied the Yugo sitting at the curb and looked questioningly at Spider. His whispered explanation about Jade, the Yugo and Karam only seemed to confuse the issue.

  “We’ll sort it out this afternoon,” she said. “Thanks for bringing me the pickup.”

  “Call me,” he said backing away. He pointed to the yellow bag.

  Laurie’s brows drew together, and when Spider motioned for her to open the sack, she looked inside. Letting the door close behind her, she stepped to the edge of the porch. “What’s this?”

  “Brick Tremain wants us to stay in touch. Call me when you’re on your way home. My phone number’s in it.”

  Spider walked back to the car and got in the passenger seat. “Just head on down to the end of the block and hang a right.”

  Karam put the car in gear. “Go straight then turn right?”

  “That works, too.” As they pulled away, Spider adjusted the air conditioning, sat back, and looked around. From the inside it wasn’t a bad looking car. A little Spartan, perhaps, but the price was right.

  Karam broke into his thoughts. “Your wife is beautiful.”

  “I’ve always thought so.”

  “I will be marrying this winter. She is my cousin. We have been promised for several years, but getting in and out of my country is hard. If she emigrates successfully, we will marry in Dubai.”

  “Your cousin? First or second?”

  “This will be my first wife.”

  “No, I mean is she your first cousin? The daughter of your father’s brother?”

  Spider watched while Karam whispered the words to himself, working out the connection.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Does that happen much in your country, marrying your cousin?”

  Karam nodded. “Young men know they owe it to their families to make sure the young women have husbands.”

  Spider grunted. “Huh.”

  “Young men have an obligation to see that their cousins have the chance to marry.”

  “You just said that.”

  “But you said ‘huh.’ Does not that mean you do not understand?”

  Spider thought a moment. “I guess it does, depending on how you say it. Sometimes it means you got the message.”

  “So, depending on how you say it, it can either mean you do not understand or you do understand?”

  “That’s about the size of it.”

  “Size of what? What are you talking about?”

  “That means what you said is right. Correct. True.”

  Karam pulled over to the side of the road at the Arizona state line. “Will you please drive? I need to record these notes.”

  Spider took the wheel, and as they dropped down into Fredonia, Karam whispered, “That’s… about… the… size… of… it,” as he keyed the phrase and meaning into his phone.

  Spider made the left turn into the museum parking lot. The Bakers’ SUV was still there, as was Matt’s red pickup and Linda’s beige Kia SUV. Spider pulled up beside two out-of-state cars. “I’ll introduce you to Isaac, and he’ll show you around. I need to talk to a couple other people.”

  As they walked to the entrance, Spider noticed Linda and Matt in the Heritage Yard with a cluster of people around them. Matt was bent over a workbench, pounding on a rock while Linda addressed the group.

  LaJean and Isaac were behind the counter when Spider and Karam pushed open the glass doors. She hitched up the canvas bag holding her oxygen bottle and said, “Hey, Stranger. That’s quite the rig you’re driving.”

  “Just trying to impress the ladies.” Spider took off his hat and gestured toward his companion. “Let me introduce you to Karam Mansour. He’s interested in American History.”

  “Glad to meet you, Karam.” Isaac offered his hand. “You’ve come to the right place.”

  Spider indicated the knot of people around Matt and Linda. “What’s going on out in the yard?”

  “Mattie’s demonstrating how to make an Anasazi ax head,” Isaac said. “It’s quite a skill.”

  Karam took out his phone. “I would like to see it. May I take pictures?”

  “Take as many pictures as you like.” Isaac motioned for Karam to follow him to the door that led out to the Heritage Yard. “You can even give it a try.”

  When they were gone, LaJean cocked her head. “You don’t want to learn how to make a stone ax?”

  “No, I’d like to talk to you about what’s been going on at the museum.”

  “Well, you might as well come around behind t
he counter, so we can sit down.” She pulled the two folding chairs into a conversation position and sat. “What do you want to know?”

  Spider took the chair opposite, his hat in his lap. “I want to know how word got out about the name on the Lincoln document.”

  LaJean stared at Spider for a moment. She took the canvas bag from over her shoulder and set it on the floor beside her. “Who told you about the Lincoln document?”

  “Martin showed it to me. He had another spell before I could ask him what I’m asking you, and Neva’s not doing well, either. I thought if I could get the information from you and Isaac, it might be better for all concerned.”

  LaJean leaned forward and glanced through the side door at the group in the Heritage Yard. “Here’s what I know. There were six people who knew about the Lincoln letter.” She held up six fingers, lowering one each time she named a name. “Isaac. Me. Martin. Neva. Mattie. Linda.”

  “So, who leaked the name?”

  “I only know that Isaac didn’t, and I didn’t. We haven’t mentioned it to a soul. I’m almost as sure about Martin and Neva. There are lots of secrets here— where things have been found and such. They’ll probably take those secrets to their graves. Why would they spill the beans on this?”

  “What about Matt?”

  “Mattie’s like his father. He can keep a secret.”

  “Which leaves Linda.”

  “Yes” LaJean sighed. “Which leaves Linda.”

  “Who would she have told? And why?”

  “Who? I don’t know. Why? That old green-eyed monster. It makes people do things they never would if they were in their right mind.”

  “Jealousy? Is that what you mean?” Spider looked at the two young people in the Heritage Yard. They were engaged in a common task yet they didn’t speak to each other, didn’t even look at one another. “Who is Linda? When did she come to the Red Pueblo?”

  “Mattie brought her here last January. He knew her at the university, and when she graduated, he talked Martin into hiring her. She’s had a lot of great ideas for the museum, like the demonstrations and classes in the Heritage Yard. She teaches flint knapping—”

  Spider broke in. “—which is?”

  “It’s how you make arrowheads.” LaJean pointed at a tray in the glass case. “She made all of these. See how the stone is flaked away at the edges?”

  “Is that what they’re doing out there now?”

  “That’s another process called pecking and grinding. Check out that ax right there.” She tapped the glass case. “You just hammer away with another rock until you get it the shape you want, and then you grind it on a harder rock until it gets an edge to it.”

  Spider bent forward and studied the stone implement. “That’s not much of an edge.”

  “It’ll cut wood,” she assured him. “It’s been a big boost to the museum’s stature to have the classes, and it helps the people appreciate the Anasazi’s ingenuity. And, it’s all Linda’s doing.”

  “Okay.” Spider sat back and stretched out his legs. “So she comes here. She’s an asset. Hard worker. Then what?”

  “It was obvious to me when she came that she was in love with Mattie. They make a great team, and I think he saw that in her— saw them taking over where his parents will leave off some day. It seemed to me he made the decision to marry her more with his head than his heart, but that’s not a bad thing.” She lifted the green oxygen bottle out of the canvas bag beside her chair and looked at the gauge. “If you’ll open that cupboard beside you, there’s another one of these in there. Thanks.” She used a small wrench hanging on a chain around her neck to exchange bottles and gave him the empty one to put back on the shelf.

  “Now,” she said, “what was I saying? Did it make any sense? Sometimes I don’t when I run out of oxygen.”

  “You were telling me that Linda gave Matt her heart, and he gave her the museum in return.”

  LaJean dropped the bottle in the bag and took out her knitting. “That’s one way to put it, though I think he’s fonder of her than he realized. It really hurt him when she took up with that fellow from St. George.”

  Spider sat up. “Wait! What fellow from St. George?”

  She looked up, needles poised. “No one has mentioned Austin Lee?”

  Spider shook his head. “This is the first I’ve heard of him.”

  LaJean leaned forward again to check on the status of the people in the yard. “Smooth as honey butter, he is. Handsome, in a California surfer kind of way.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Oh, you know. He’s got sun-streaked blond hair and broad shoulders. Of course he’s tall, and he dresses real sharp. Drives an expensive car. I don’t blame Linda for falling for him. If he’d come in and started paying attention to me, I might have fallen for him myself.”

  Spider rubbed his jaw. “I need to visualize a timeline on this. Can you tell me the order that things happened in, from Linda coming and getting engaged— did Matt actually give her a diamond?”

  “It was a turquoise ring that belonged to Martin’s mother.”

  “Okay. When did that happen?”

  “Memorial Day weekend. They announced it at the museum picnic.

  “When did they break up? I take it Austin Lee entered the picture before that. And don’t leave out Tiffany Wendt, either. I’m assuming she’s the cause of the green-eyed monster.”

  LaJean put down her knitting, hefted herself out of the chair and walked around the counter to get the guest sign-in book, trailing her oxygen hose behind her.

  Spider peeked in the bag. “How long a tether you got on that thing?”

  “About forty feet.” She returned to her chair and opened the guest book. “I can tell you the exact day that Tiffany Wendt showed up. And you’re right. I think if she hadn’t appeared on the scene, Linda wouldn’t have looked twice at Austin Lee.”

  “So who called it quits? Do you know?”

  LaJean snorted. “I think everyone in the county knows. They had an argument at about ninety decibels out in the yard.” She opened the visitor log. “But I’m getting ahead of myself. You wanted a time line.”

  Spider waited while she paged through the book.

  She finally stopped. “Tiffany visited for the first time on July third.”

  “What’s her story? Is she local? Move-in? Married?”

  “She’s a returnee. She went to high school in Kanab, and then her family moved away. She grew up and married the owner of a software company. He apparently had a roving eye, found something he liked better, and gave her a pile of money in a divorce settlement. She remembered being happy here and decided to move back.”

  “I see. Did she know Matt in high school? Were they sweethearts?”

  LaJean shook her head. “She was a cheerleader, prom queen, that kind of thing. Mattie was always out roaming the hills when he wasn’t in class. Roaming and thinking.” She tapped her temple. “He’s got a lot upstairs.”

  “And Tiffany?”

  “I think she’s smart, but in a different way.”

  Spider raised a questioning eyebrow. “How so?”

  “Oh, socially. Always knows the right thing to say and the right person to say it to. Never puts a foot wrong. Linda, on the other hand, doesn’t have a social grace to her name.”

  Spider looked through the door at Matt and Linda. The group of people that had surrounded them, Karam included, had moved on to the dugout, and the couple stood, heads bent, working on shaping ax heads. “They’re a good-looking pair, seeing them like that,” he said, turning back to LaJean. “But let’s get back to the timeline. Engaged Memorial Day weekend. Tiffany shows up around the Fourth of July. What was that like?”

  La Jean picked up her knitting again. “It wasn’t like anything. She came to see the museum. Visited with Martin and Mattie. Visited with Isaac and me. Visited with Linda. We all thought she was great.”

  “All? Even Linda?”

  “I told you, Tiffany never puts a fo
ot wrong. She made Linda think she was her biggest fan. And I think she was sincere.”

  “So what changed?”

  “All I can tell you is what I think.” LaJean paused to count stitches. “Tiffany fell for Mattie, and she was determined to have him. She saw that his life is the museum, and she played to that. She offered to donate a sizeable sum to the Red Pueblo Foundation.”

  “How sizeable?”

  “A quarter million dollars.”

  Spider whistled. “So he drops Linda because a gal with money comes along?”

  LaJean pointed a knitting needle at him. “I hear the disapproval in your voice. You’re way off base. Mattie’s not like that.”

  “So, tell me what he’s like.”

  “He’s loyal and true, and he’d walk through fire to help his dad. Sure he’s paying attention to Tiffany. A quarter million dollars would go a long ways toward getting the museum back on its feet.”

  “But she hasn’t given the money yet? Is that why he’s being so attentive and laughing at her jokes? Would that classify as walking through fire?”

  “I think so, yes.” LaJean finished the row and jabbed her needles into the ball of yarn. “Let me finish your wretched timeline.” Her smile took the bite out of the comment.

  Spider returned the smile. “Last thing on it was Tiffany’s arrival the first part of July.”

  LaJean picked up the visitor log and scanned through the pages. “Here it is. Austin Lee showed up on July twentieth.”

  Spider leaned over and looked at the name printed in precise block letters. “Do you remember anything about that day?”

  “You mean besides having three tour busses stop at the same time?” Her eyes twinkled. “I’m kidding. I know what you mean, and yes, I do remember several things.”

  LaJean’s brow furrowed as if trying to marshal her thoughts. While he waited, Spider glanced around the Heritage Yard. Isaac was talking, making sweeping gestures in the air, and Karam was listening intently to what he was saying.

  “First,” LaJean said, calling Spider back to attention, “when Austin showed up that day, Tiffany was out in the yard with Mattie while he was demonstrating the making of ax heads for one of the tour busses. Linda was in here minding the counter with me.”