by L D Marr
Nourishing but bland, she thought about Stanley’s smell.
After that disturbingly bizarre thought, Roz trembled a bit.
“Yes, it’s very understandable that you’ve lost your appetite,” said Jonah. “I should have been more sensitive to a lady’s feelings.”
He turned to look up at Stanley, who was still waiting for their order.
“I’m sure you heard about the sad occurrence at the saloon last night. This lady was there after the crime had been committed, and she stood watch over the victim’s remains. It’s no wonder that she’s not hungry right now,” Jonah told him.
The stout man nodded his balding head at Roz.
“I’ll just bring you a glass of water in that case, ma’am,” he said.
“Yes. That will be fine,” said Roz, although she had no intention of drinking the water.
“And you deputy,” the proprietor continued. “Is your appetite gone too, or will you be eating dinner tonight?”
“Well Stanley, I’m used to crime and death, and my appetite hasn’t been affected. In fact, I’m quite ravenous tonight,” he said.
He turned to look across the table at Roz.
“I’d like a full meal if it doesn’t bother you to watch me eat it,” he asked her.
“Not at all!” Roz assured him.
“In that case, I’ll have that cheese sandwich you mentioned earlier, and the beans, potato, salad, and grilled vegetables,” said Jonah.
He must be ordering all vegetarian food for my benefit, Roz thought.
She blushed again.
“Coming right up, deputy,” said Stanley.
He turned and walked back toward the kitchen.
Then Jonah leaned forward and spoke to Roz in a low voice.
“It’s not standard procedure to discuss a murder case with a member of the public,” said Jonah. “But the sheriff put me in charge, so I’m making an exception with you.”
“Thank you, Jonah. I’m very flattered. Have you found any clues, or did you get information from the witnesses?” Roz asked.
“This killer was careful—too careful for a customer who just got too rough. I’d call this an experienced murderer,” said Jonah.
“Why is that?” Roz asked.
“For one thing, the choice of a stake as the murder weapon. It delivered a quick, quiet death without giving the victim a chance to scream or fight back. That allowed the killer to slip in, do the deed, and slip back out without attracting any notice. And most people don’t carry stakes and mallets around. You can’t hide them in your clothes like with a gun or a knife. This murder was premeditated, not a crime of passion,” said Jonah. “It could have been a jealous lover who planned it in advance, but I have my doubts. And I have my suspicions.”
“Can you share them?” Roz asked.
She leaned forward and looked at Jonah with wide eyes. Then Roz realized that her upper body was hanging over the table.
Why am I acting so forward? she wondered.
Roz sat back on her side of the table, but something kept pulling her toward Jonah.
It’s like I’m overwhelmingly attracted to him, she thought. Well, he is a handsome man, but the attraction seems so much stronger than it was yesterday. Perhaps getting to know him is having that effect on me.
Meanwhile, Jonah was speaking.
“Do you remember when I told you yesterday that there was a mystery in this town? Strange goings on?” he asked.
“Yes. I remember,” said Roz. “Do you think that might have something to do with this murder?”
“Well it stands to reason,” said Jonah. “Where there’s smoke, there’s fire, right?”
“I guess,” said Roz. “But what’s the smoke you’re talking about?”
“I’m talking about the lack of killings in this town. Until now, of course. That’s not normal. Miners come to this town with gold to sell. We’ve got banks where the buyers and sellers keep their money—a lot of money. This town was a hot target for gunslingers from everywhere. Coming here to rob the miners and the banks. But for about half a year, it’s been quiet as the tomb,” said Jonah.
“You’re saying the outlaws stopped coming here. But why is that a problem?” Roz asked.
“Because it’s not normal,” said Jonah. “It’s unnatural, and that’s why it’s got my attention. And there’s another odd thing. The killers stopped coming to town right around when Cowboy Bob took over the saloon. So, I’ve been watching him. And I’ll tell you another odd thing. He says he’s from Texas, but he’s not. I’ve been to Texas, and that accent he’s got isn’t from there. And no one in Texas dresses like that either. Now why would a man pretend to be from Texas when he isn’t?”
Roz didn’t answer right away. She was sure that Cowboy Bob hadn’t been the killer because he’d been in her room for most of the night. But she couldn’t tell Jonah that. Roz considered what she should say next.
Before she had time to speak, Stanley appeared with a large round tray in one beefy hand. He served Roz her water and then placed plates of food in front of Jonah on the table. A glass of milk.
“Thank you, Stanley,” Roz and Jonah both said at the same time.
Roz blushed again for no particular reason.
“You’re welcome folks,” said Stanley.
He smiled at them and then walked away.
Jonah lifted a fork and began to eat, but Roz didn’t touch her water. She continued the conversation.
“If no one’s been killed since Cowboy Bob came to town, why do you think he’s the likely killer now? And why would he randomly kill one of the women who work for him? They keep talking about how hard it is to get dancers out here,” she said.
Jonah chewed and swallowed his mouthful of food. Roz watched the movement that his neck made with interest. Again, she felt her body leaning toward him, and she pulled back.
“That’s true. It doesn’t make sense, but a lot of things don’t make sense around here lately,” said Jonah. “The only motive I can think of for Cowboy Bob is that he might have messed around with Gertie, maybe got her in trouble, and he killed her to solve that problem. But the doctor said there was no sign of pregnancy. Oh! Pardon me for mentioning that, ma’am.”
Now Roz’s keen eyes detected the slight flush of blood reddening Jonah’s tan skin. She felt the strange inappropriate hunger surge in her chest and stomach.
What’s going on with me? she wondered.
But she answered Jonah.
“It’s quite alright. I’m an educated woman,” said Roz. “But as you say, that motive seems unlikely under the circumstances. Don’t you think Gertie might have brought a man from the saloon up to her room? Did anyone see her that night with one of the customers?”
“Sure, they did. She spent time with a lot of the customers that evening,” Jonah said in between chewing mouthfuls of food. “And some of the witnesses said they saw her taking a man into her room, but no one had a clear description of him. ‘A plain man with a hat covering his face’ is all they could tell us.”
“Well, that couldn’t have been Cowboy Bob,” said Roz. “There’s no way anyone wouldn’t have recognized him.”
“I guess you’re right, but that means I’ll have two mysteries on my hands instead of just one,” said Jonah with a sigh. “It won’t be easy. I can interview all the men in this town, or I can sit in the saloon every night. But even if I question them, those customers aren’t going to talk much to me. ‘Don’t know nothing, deputy’ is what they usually say when I ask them just about any question.”
“Well, I can help you with that,” said Roz. “They’ll talk to me. I can question them for you.”
After she said that, Roz sat back and gulped.
Oh great. I just agreed to socialize with strange men in a bar! she thought. Well, it is for an important cause—finding a murderer.
But Jonah seemed to agree with her reservations.
“No ma’am. I don’t want you to do that. The men who come into the saloon might not be c
arrying their guns, but they’re just about all rough customers. You’d be putting yourself in danger.”
“Maybe I’ll be in more danger if this killer isn’t found. Maybe we’re all in danger,” Roz argued.
“Hmm,” said Jonah.
He scratched his chin for a moment as if considering what she’d just said.
How bad could the saloon’s customers be? Roz wondered.
At that thought, she looked around the diner. She recognized some of the same men who frequented the bar.
Could these men be killers? she wondered.
And when then question entered her mind, the answer came to her. She sensed that some of these men had caused grievous harm, and others had killed. A woman seated at one of the tables had killed too.
Roz inhaled, and scents came to her from each of the diners all over the room. The scent of blood. And the smells clarified her question even more.
The blood of the killers smelled sharp and tangy. Spiced with something impure and evil. Yet the spicy blood smell was enticing. Others had done no harm. The smell of their blood wasn’t spicy. Sweet but less flavorful.
How do I know this? Am I going crazy? Roz wondered.
She felt shaky. And sweaty.
“Are you OK?” Jonah asked her. “Do you want some food after all?”
Roz stared down at the food. It looked like he’d ordered extra in case she changed her mind. But that was the last thing she wanted.
“I’m still not hungry. Thank you,” Roz said. “I’m fine though.”
But she looked up at Jonah and felt a deep hunger. Now she could smell his blood too. Roz’s nostrils opened wide to take in the irresistible smell. She felt ravenous.
Her sense of Jonah and the aroma of his blood blended the strong spice of one who had killed with the sweet flavor of innocence.
Am I losing my mind because of the traumatic events lately? she wondered. And anyway, how could the blood of a killer smell sweet and innocent?
Then Roz sensed someone else close by who had the similar feel of a blameless killer. She turned and looked in the direction that the emanation came from. Outside the window next to their table.
A familiar small black face, lit by lantern outside the diner’s door, stared in from the bottom of the window. Dots of light from doors and windows along the street spotted the night’s murky darkness behind the face.
“Buttons!” Roz said to him mentally. “Are you spying on my date?”
“Me? No, I’m not spying. I was invited too, remember?” said Buttons in an innocent mental voice. “But to answer your question, the deputy is a blameless killer because he kills people who are about to kill others. And I’m blameless because I need to kill to eat. That’s natural for cats. Or at least I used to have to do that.”
“What do you mean ‘used to have to’?” Roz asked. “And stop reading my mind!”
But Jonah had noticed Buttons, and he spoke before the cat could answer her.
“Cute little guy,” he said. “Does he follow you around all the time?”
“Yes, he does,” said Roz. “He’s very protective.”
“I’ve seen that,” said Jonah. “I don’t know how much protection he’d be if someone decided to murder you next though. But I suppose you have a point that you’re more likely than me to get information out of the saloon customers.”
“What’s he talking about?” Buttons asked her mentally.
Roz didn’t answer him.
“If you’re going to try that, then I’ll be there to make sure nothing happens to you,” Jonah continued. “I’ll sit at the end of the bar like usual. Then I can make the arrest on the spot if you find the killer.”
“Wonderful. I’ll get started tomorrow night when the saloon is open again,” said Roz.
She thought about it for a moment, picturing herself as an undercover detective.
“I guess we shouldn’t act too friendly in the bar, right? Or they might suspect something’s up or associate me with you,” said Roz.
“You’re right,” said Jonah. “But it might be too late for that. People saw us sitting together last night, and now more people see us having dinner together. This town is small, and they’re going to be talking. So maybe your plan won’t work after all.”
Roz noticed that Jonah seemed relieved. And a part of her wanted to use that excuse too, but she knew she couldn’t.
She’d sensed the darkness and murderous pasts of so many people just in this diner. Now Roz realized that the safety she’d always thought she had in this town was an illusion. Danger was here, and the saloon’s customers were capable of things Roz had never imagined. Someone had struck and killed last night. It could easily happen again to her or one of the other women if no one tried to stop it.
Then Roz thought of a plan.
“I know how we can solve that problem,” said Roz. “We’ll pretend to have a fight here in the diner. That will get people talking. Then when you come into the saloon, I’ll ignore you. It will look natural if I start getting friendly with the customers. They’ll think I’m trying to make you jealous.”
“No! No! No!” said Buttons in her mind.
Roz turned and looked at him still staring in the window.
“Can you go away and give me some privacy?” she asked him telepathically.
But Buttons stayed put, and his little cat face continued to turn from one to the other as Roz and Jonah spoke.
“That might work,” said Jonah. “But we’ll have to meet up sometime if you’re going to question the customers, so you can tell me what you find out. And more important, I promised you a meal, and you didn’t get one. I was hoping to take you out again for another meal when you get your appetite back.”
“Yes. We’ll need to meet somewhere, sometime, but not in public,” said Roz. “Do you think I could sneak into the sheriff’s office and talk to you there?”
Under normal circumstances, she would have been shocked by her own impropriety in saying that, but circumstances weren’t normal anymore.
If Jonah was shocked by the suggestion, he didn’t show it.
He scratched the dark stubble his chin again for a moment.
“Well,” he said finally. “I don’t know if the sheriff’s office is the best place to meet. The jail is there, and it’s a busy place. And the sheriff is a bit of a gossip.”
“Oh,” said Roz.
Now she was out of ideas. The thought of meeting somewhere outside in the dark didn’t appeal to her.
“I’ve got another idea,” said Jonah. “Would you be willing to come to my boarding house for dinner tomorrow night? I’ll ask my landlady to cook some vegetarian food and to keep quiet about you. The other two boarders are elderly, and I think I can trust them to stay tight lipped.”
“Yes, that sounds perfect!” said Roz. “I’ll wait till it gets dark. Then I’ll cover myself in a dark cloak and walk down the street in the shadows.”
Jonah chuckled then stopped. “Are you sure you’ll be safe walking around by yourself at night? I think I’ll put on a dark cloak too and walk down the other side of the street.”
Roz felt kind of annoyed. Did Jonah think she couldn’t walk down the street alone? It was kind of offensive that he didn’t understand that she could take care of herself.
But he’s right, she realized. Why do I suddenly feel like I’m so powerful that no one can harm me? Or almost no one?
Jonah looked at her with large green eyes that seemed to melt something inside her. Roz calmed down—way down—and relaxed. She filed those questions away to be mused upon later.
“I’ll be fine. I’m sure of it. No one will see me,” she tried to assure him.
“OK. I hope you’re right,” he said. “I’m a little uncertain about that part of the plan, but I’ll keep an eye on you anyway.”
Roz didn’t argue with him this time.
“Anyway, I still have my doubts about that Cowboy Bob,” he said. “You don’t think he murdered Gertie, but there�
�s something wrong there. That’s for sure. And when there’s something wrong, wrong things can happen.”
⌛
Jonah stared across the table at Roz. All through eating his meal, he’d been struck—even stunned—by her unearthly beauty. In the dim lighting of the saloon the night before, he could tell she was a beautiful woman. Then in the room of the dead woman, he’d been too distracted to notice Roz’s looks much. But now in the soft lighting of the diner, she positively glowed. Skin like satin. Bright eyes like the stars on a dark night.
He shook himself and remembered his curiosity about why Roz was here in this small, rough town dancing in a shady saloon. Jonah dropped his fork with a light clink on the heavy porcelain plate and nerved himself to ask her.
“I’m kind of wondering something personal about you ma’am, if you don’t mind my asking,” he said.
“Please call me Roz,” she said. “And you can ask. I’ll let you know if I don’t want to answer.”
She smiled at him in a warm and friendly manner unlike the prim, proper way she’d acted the night before.
Jonah felt as if his eyes were caught in her hazel gaze. The question he’d been about to ask fled from Jonah’s mind for a moment. He shook himself, and it returned.
“Thank you, Roz,” he said. “Yes. I was wondering why an educated librarian like yourself would come all the way out to the middle of nowhere to work in a tavern in this mining town.”
He got the question out and then felt a blush building under his tan skin.
She said to go ahead and ask, but is she offended anyway? he wondered.
Roz didn’t answer him right away. She stared back as if deciding what to say. Then she looked at the face of her cat still watching them through the window.
Now that cat’s a bit odd, Jonah thought.
Roz looked back at him and caught his gaze again. His thoughts stopped churning, and he relaxed—deeply relaxed. He didn’t know how much time passed while they stared into each other’s eyes. And it didn’t seem to matter.
Then Roz answered his question.
“Well, Jonah, I’ll tell you why I’m here, although it’s kind of embarrassing. When I was a librarian in Salem, I was reported to a witch hunter,” she said.
