Deception on All Accounts

by Sara Sue Hoklotubbe

  A young Indian girl who had waited on Sadie earlier was busy decorating the soda fountain with colorful fall leaves, gourds, and miniature pumpkins. Thanksgiving was only a week away, and its arrival would signal the end of another jobless month for Sadie.

  Sadie finished circling a lone advertisement and parked her pencil behind her ear. The Colonial Grocery Store on the other side of Sycamore Springs was looking for a cashier. Sadie put the paper down for a moment and thought about her situation.

  She had already used up half of her savings, which meant she was going to have to turn up the heat on the job search. To no avail, she had called every bank in Sycamore Springs, following up with a résumé to each one. She had not received a single call. She knew Mercury Bank—Blackton, to be more specific—had already put the word out that she had been fired, the kiss of death for another banking job.

  If she dwelled on Blackton too long, her anger would take over and she would never get anything accomplished. She reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope she had picked up earlier from her mailbox. She had been saving it, so she could savor the ceremony of opening and reading it again.

  It was one of those romantic cards where the words were so gooey they almost slipped off the page, the kind of card the newly-in-love shared with each other. Jaycee had taken an ink pen and underlined some of the words. She skipped from phrase to phrase, imagining the words coming from her lover's lips: You are the air I breathe, a kiss of sunshine on a cold day. Your touch is music in the still of the night. Your words, nourishment for my soul. Your presence brings joy to my heart, meaning to my life. All I want to do is share my life with you. You are my true love, today and forever.

  He had signed it With Love, Jaycee. Sadie returned the card to its envelope and held it to her chest. Overwhelmed with affection for this man, she took it back out and read it again. Their passion, it seemed, grew more intense with each card, letter, and phone call. She anticipated his visits like a child waiting for Christmas morning.

  Jaycee came to Oklahoma the last week of every month, calling on customers for Powerhouse Investments. He never returned home without seeing his new love, Sadie. They had become a familiar twosome, seen at movie theaters and nice restaurants all over Sycamore Springs.

  The weeks they spent apart seemed to intensify the days they spent together. When Jaycee returned to Texas each month, Sadie's mailbox would fill to capacity with cards and letters, each full of warm expressions of infatuation. Sadie found herself surrendering to this man, leaving silly messages on his voice mail almost every day, something totally out of character. It was the real thing. This time she was truly falling in love.

  Jaycee threw his bag in the trunk of a rental car at the Tulsa airport and headed straight toward Sycamore Springs. There, he reported to his good friend Adam Cruthers at Mercury Savings. The bank's account with Powerhouse Investments outperformed every other investment Mercury had.

  “Jaycee, I don't know how you do it.” Adam shook his head and rubbed his chin while he reviewed the portfolio numbers.

  Jaycee smiled, clasped his hands behind his head, and leaned back in his chair. Through the high-rise window he could see sailboats floating in the distance on Blue Lake.

  “Talent, my friend, pure talent,” he said.

  “I hope so,” said Adam. “I hope this isn't just a fluke. I talked the board into approving the transfer of another one-point-two million to your firm this week. If these funds don't perform like I told them they would, my ass will be on the line.”

  “Good job, my man.” Jaycee rose from his chair and leaned over the cluttered desk to shake Adam's hand. “Good job. And, don't worry,” he added. “You know as well as I do I wouldn't be in this business if I wasn't good. No, make that the best.” Jaycee picked up his briefcase and turned before he reached the door of Adam's office. “Remember,” he said, “if you don't make money, I don't make money…” Then, in a raspy voice, he added, “And I like money.”

  Eli sat perfectly still under a tall oak tree while his small herd of horses grazed nearby. Nothing in the world delighted Eli more than being outdoors. His horses were used to him sitting in the pasture among them while they ate grass or rolled in the dirt to scratch their backs. Being there gave him a rich feeling of life.

  He had often commented that he had been born a century too late, that he really belonged on the bare back of a horse, riding for days on end with no fences to stand in his way. He knew before he got out of the army and came back to Eucha that he could never work at anything else. Having inherited the uncanny ability to understand and communicate with horses, he had been raising and selling paint horses all of his life. Just like his daddy before him, he had eked out a meager living for himself and his wife. Lucky for him, Mary had the gift to make money and food stretch beyond belief. It had been an enjoyable existence.

  Sonny joined Eli, sat next to him, and patiently waited for a pat on the head. Eli stroked the wolf-dog's shoulders and talked to him. He missed Little Wolf, who was still on chicken-house duty for Mary's sister.

  Together, they watched from the upper pasture as an old Chevy slowed to a stop before crossing the cattle guard at the entrance to Sadie's place. Sonny sensed the intrusion a quarter mile away before Eli did. He stood tall on all four feet, his ears at attention, then raised his nose in the air and sniffed.

  Michael lowered the car window. “Don't drive in, you idiot,” he barked at the driver. “Someone will see us.” Michael reached below the seat and found the baseball bat he had brought along and slid out through the passenger door. He stuck his head back into the car and said, “Just pick me up by the lake road after dark.”

  “Who you calling an idiot? Looks to me like you're going to be back in the slammer before me.” The driver backed off the cattle guard and checked the rearview mirror. Then he jammed his foot on the accelerator, throwing gravel with the back tire as he climbed onto the pavement and blazed off down the road.

  Michael marched the short distance to the house, the bat riding high on his right shoulder. If he had estimated right, Sadie wouldn't be home for several hours. He should have plenty of time to let himself into her house undetected and wait for her return. As far as he was concerned, she was still his wife and he planned to get what was his. All he had to do was get past that dog of hers, and he figured the bat would take care of him. If that didn't work, he always had his Saturday Night Special in his boot. So far he was in luck. No dog in sight.

  With the bat propped against the side of the house, he pulled a plastic credit card from his back pocket and slid it down the door-jamb in an effort to open the locked door. “Damn it,” he said. He dug in his other back pocket, producing two jailhouse-forged tools. The first one would serve as a tension wrench, allowing the second tool, which resembled a flat crochet hook, to spring the lock. He glanced at the highway for a moment and then proceeded to work the dead bolt with experienced precision.

  “Since when did women—” A click inside the mechanism interrupted him in mid-thought. “All right,” he said and backed up to replace the utensils in his pocket and pick up his bat.

  When Sonny attacked, Michael heard no bark, no growl, only the crunching sound of teeth against the back and side of his neck. He fell backward, losing his grip on the bat. He tried to scream, but the wolf-dog's powerful grip on his throat made it impossible. They wrestled on the ground and Michael tried in vain to pry himself loose. He could feel the bat with his leg, so he grabbed it and hit Sonny as hard as he could. Sonny let go of Michael's neck just long enough to get a better hold near the intruder's jugular vein. Michael lost his grip on the bat as Sonny began to drag him across the yard.

  Cherokee words spewed from Eli as he rounded the corner of the house. “Gitli! Tlesdi! Tiyohi!” Reluctantly, Sonny obeyed and let go of his prey, remaining close enough to regain his position if needed. Eli stood poised to shoot the 12-gauge shotgun he had pointed at Michael's head and continued to speak rapidly in Cherokee asking him what
he was doing: “Gado hadvneha?” Then he told him to get up: “Talehvga!” Finally, his words began to give way to broken English: “…or kill you where you are. Understand?”

  Michael had no idea what Eli was saying, but he got the message. He tried to get up but became dizzy and fell back. He opened his eyes to a growling beast of bloodied fur, bared teeth, and foul animal breath. On the second try, he made it to a vertical position and started walking as fast as he could toward the highway dragging his bat. He thought about the gun in his boot, but dismissed the thought of trying to shoot a crazy, shotgun-toting Indian with a handgun. He wasn't that stupid. Michael held his hand firmly on the wound, where he could feel the blood trickling down his neck. He headed across the highway toward the lake road where he would wait for the rendezvous with his comrade.

  As Michael worked his way through the woods, the thick underbrush slowed his pace considerably. By the time he reached the meeting place he was exhausted. He knew he had lost a lot of blood so he sat on the ground, leaned against a tree, and waited, trying to be as still as he could. When the vehicle stopped a few feet away, Michael never knew it. The driver got out and walked over to Michael. He kicked Michael's leg, checking for reflexes. Michael did not react. The driver drew a small-caliber handgun from his back pocket, pulled Michael's head forward by his hair, and emptied one bullet into the base of his skull.

  Back at Sadie's house, Eli praised Sonny for a job well done and checked the dog's front leg where he had taken the blow from the baseball bat.

  “Hatlv tsesdane? Where are you hurting?” asked Eli. “Not broke.” The old Indian spoke softly as he felt each leg and patted the dog on his head. Then he took Sonny to the barn, hooked up the water hose used to fill the horse trough, and doused the dog with water. The cold shower removed most of the blood but not all of it.

  Eli looked at Sonny and said, “I'm sorry, boy, but I'm afraid we're going to have to tell Sadie about this escapade.” He picked up his shotgun and walked back toward his house to check on Mary.

  Sadie came out of the Colonial Grocery Store and got into her car. She had just finished an interview with the manager, Mark Baldwin, in which he presented a job offer to her right on the spot. The store's management had decided to stay open twenty-four hours a day through the holidays, instead of their usual sixteen. He offered Sadie the position of head night cashier, working from eleven in the evening until seven each morning, with weekends off. She would be the only cashier on duty, with a stock boy who could detain customers for her when she needed to take a break or go to the bathroom. Sadie told him she would think about it.

  Before she left the store, she picked up a package of frozen strawberries and a container of chocolate-almond ice cream. She expected Jaycee this evening and she knew how he loved this combination of berries and ice cream.

  The farm seemed quiet when Sadie got home. The back door was unlocked and she suddenly felt vulnerable. Surely, she wasn't losing her faculties to the point of forgetting to lock the door. Nothing appeared to be out of place. She noticed the blinking red light on her answering machine, hit the message button and started putting things away while she listened.

  Sadie could hear the strain in her aunt's voice as she explained how her sister, Essie, had taken a bad fall and broken her hip. She and Eli were on their way to Tahlequah to take care of her. The message ended with, “Eli said to tell you something about Sonny getting into a fight today. Said he checked him over and he's okay.” Sadie could hear her uncle speaking Cherokee in the background. “Oh, he's going to have to tell you about all this later himself. We've got to go. See you soon, honey. We love you.”

  Sadie left the machine to rewind and went back outside. Sonny had not immediately greeted her when she got home and she wondered where he might be. She whistled first and then called his name. Joe snorted and walked around the barn.

  “Hey, Joe. Where's Sonny?” she asked as if expecting the horse to answer.

  A car turned into the farm and Sadie knew the rental car had to be Jaycee. Her heart pounded and a twinge of excitement raced through her body. He got out of the car and she ran to him. He embraced her and they kissed like teenagers. In the distance, Sadie could hear Sonny's playful bark. Subconsciously, she dismissed his safety from her mind and enjoyed the moment. Jaycee wrapped his arm around Sadie's waist as they walked into the house.

  “You won't believe this,” he said. “I got another account out of Adam—over a mil.”

  “Really?” Sadie was pleased for Jaycee, but the mention of anything to do with Mercury Savings Bank dampened her spirits.

  Jaycee immediately sensed Sadie's less-than-cheerful mood. “Well, as a stockholder, you'll be pleased to know the value of their stock is skyrocketing.”

  When Mercury had gone from a mutual to a stock company, the employees had been required to buy a minimum number of shares whether they wanted to or not. Sadie could still remember the speech when Blackton told the employees that being stockholders of the bank showed they were committed to their jobs. Sadie had taken the obligatory number of shares, allowing Thelma to deduct the cost from one month's paycheck.

  “Stock?” she asked. “Well, if you know anybody who wants mine, donate it to them.” She walked over to a stack of papers on the edge of the table, pulled out an envelope with the word “stock” printed on it, and handed it to Jaycee.

  “You want me to sell it for you, Sadie?”

  Sadie gave Jaycee a determined look and shook her head. “No,” she said. “No, I don't. I want you to give it away…give it to some charity. I will not take any money from that…” Sadie searched for a word that could describe how she felt about Mercury Savings, then dropped it.

  Jaycee took the envelope and slid it into the inside pocket of his jacket. He took Sadie in his arms and kissed her on the forehead. “It'll be okay, darling.” When he felt her shoulders relax he patted her on the back and added, “Come on, I'm famished and I've got movie tickets for the seven o'clock show.”

  They locked the door and walked toward Jaycee's rental car just as Sonny limped around the barn. The fur around his face and neck had turned a ruddy brown.

  “Damn it, Sonny,” grumbled Sadie. “What have you been into?”

  Jaycee groaned and rubbed his forehead.

  Sadie dropped her purse and bent down to check Sonny's ailing front leg. “Well, it feels all right,” she said. “How in the world did you get so dirty?” Sadie examined his face for cuts or gashes and found none, then looked into his eyes to see if he was hurting. Convinced he was okay, Sadie looked at Sonny and said, “Stay home tonight, would you, please?” When she went inside to wash her hands, she thought about her uncle's message and realized the discoloration of his fur could be dried blood.

  Jaycee picked up her purse and got into the car to wait. He wasn't going to take any chances. Sonny and Jaycee had never taken a fancy to each other and Jaycee knew the dog tolerated him only because Sadie demanded it.

  When Sadie came out of the house, Jaycee got out and opened the car door for her. “Don't you think that might be blood on your dog, Sadie?” he asked.

  “Oh, I don't think so,” she said, not wanting to alarm Jaycee or disrupt their plans. “It's probably just red dirt…or mud.”

  He started the car then reached over and patted her hand. “Oh, I guess so,” he said.

  As they drove out onto the highway, Sadie gazed back at the house and wondered what had gotten in a lick good enough to make Sonny limp. Then she wondered if it had lived or died.

  Chapter 19

  “Merry Christmas, Sadie.”

  The voice on the other end of the line sounded familiar.

  “Sergeant McCord, is that you?”

  “Now, look. I know I haven't seen you in a while, but what happened to calling me Charlie?”

  Sadie laughed. “Okay, I'm sorry,” she said. “How have you been?”

  “I have a Christmas gift for you.”

  “What? Christmas is almost a month away�
�and why…”

  “I just got off the phone with one of those federal boys, Agent Robinson, and I thought you might like to hear what he had to say. And since I doubt seriously he's going to call you up himself, I thought I'd do the honors.”

  The mention of the FBI agent's name gave Sadie a chill. “Why would he want to call me?”

  “Well, I'm sure you've heard about the robbery a while back over at Mid-State Bank. You know, the branch up on Hudson?”

  Sadie swallowed hard. “Yes, I read about it in the paper. That poor woman, choking to death like that.”

  “Sadie, I'm sure, and what's more important so is the FBI, that the guy who robbed Mid-State is the same one who robbed you. I'm guessing he's the one who killed Crump, too.”

  Charlie's words hung in the phone receiver for a moment, then rolled around in Sadie's head searching for a place to land. “I was afraid you were going to say something like that,” she said. “He's back, killing again. What's it going to take to stop all this madness, Charlie?”

  “The good news is your name has been taken off the suspect list, as far as having anything to do with the robbery, and so has John Doe's.”

  “You mean they cleared Happy?”

  “Well, it would be pretty hard to rob a bank and kill a woman when you're locked in a hospital room in Vinita, wouldn't you think?”

  “I told them…”

  “Yeah, I know. I just thought you'd be glad to hear that it is official.”

  Sadie let out a heavy sigh of relief. “You have no idea.”

  “That's about all I had to say.”

  “Charlie, I still say Happy has the key to all this…if he could tell us where he got the sweatshirt and stuff…”

  “Probably so, Sadie, and with him it will most likely stay.”

  The day after her conversation with Charlie, Sadie decided to take the job at Colonial Grocery. It would bring in just enough money to help her squeak by without using what was left in her savings account. She figured she could survive until after the holidays, at which time she felt sure the job situation would get better, especially now that public opinion had shifted away from her as having any possible connection with the bank robberies.