The Wrong Hill to Die On: An Alafair Tucker Mystery #6 (Alafair Tucker Mysteries)

by Donis Casey

  “Sometimes people decide they’d rather not die when you expect them to. Perhaps he has some unfinished business.” Shaw had known such a thing to happen.

  So had Moeur. “Perhaps.”

  “How are his folks?”

  “I’m going over there again right now, so we’ll see. Thus far they’ve been holding up good, considering. Mr. and Mrs. Carrizal are remarkable people of faith.” Moeur grimaced. He had had enough of this depressing topic. “Well, let me ask you, Shaw, all this unpleasantness aside, what do you think of our rawboned little town, here?”

  “Oh, it’s mighty fine. Especially the winter weather! By gum, this climate would put anybody in a good mood.”

  Moeur laughed. “Our winter is the Lord’s compensation to us for our summer.”

  “So I’ve been told. Even so, after the winter we’ve put up with back home, I’m soaking up all this sunshine like a lizard. If I didn’t have a bunch of kids and a farm to run and a wife who’s desperate to get home, I wouldn’t mind staying here a spell.”

  Much to his own guilty surprise, even in the face of this double tragedy Shaw was enjoying his adventure. Until now he had never been further west than Oklahoma City to attend state Farmer’s Union meetings, or east to Jonesboro to visit relatives. And he couldn’t remember how long ago that was.

  After Shaw waved Moeur on his way, he stood in the road for a while, enjoying the crisp, dry air. Maybe once the kids were grown, he and Alafair could do more traveling. He had always had an ambition to see some country. He had a great curiosity about the Gulf of Mexico.

  He fell to figuring. He was forty-five years old and Alafair had just celebrated her forty-third birthday. Their youngest, Grace, was three and a half years old, which meant that if she stayed home until she was eighteen, they’d be free to travel in less than fifteen years. He’d only be sixty. That’s not so bad. My folks are well into their seventies and still blowing and going. If the farm keeps growing as fast as it has been of late, we ought to be able to afford it, too. After all, there will always be a big demand for horses and mules. Shoot, the way Oklahoma is booming, we’ll have plenty to retire on in 1931.

  Eavesdropper

  The Tuckers had already retired to their veranda bedroom when Blanche decided that her medicinal tea would go down much easier with a molasses cookie. Alafair wrapped her shawl around her flannel nightgown and picked up a kerosene lamp from the bedside table before making her way across the porch and through the back door into the kitchen. The kitchen was dark, but there was a light coming from the parlor that illuminated a square of the floor. Alafair was surprised. She had said good night to the Kemps half an hour earlier.

  She had started toward the parlor, thinking that someone had neglected to turn off one of the gas lamps, when her ears picked up the faint murmur of voices. She could not tell whose, but she assumed Elizabeth and Web had come downstairs again. She stopped and returned to her quest, allowing the late-night talkers their privacy.

  Now, where are the rest of those cookies? Oh, yes. She had seen Elizabeth put the few chewy delights which were left into a small crockery jar and take it into the pantry. Alafair walked into the curtained alcove close to the back door and began searching the shelves of cans, bottles, and boxes for the elusive little jar. She found it tucked up in a corner and had just removed a cookie when she realized that the murmuring voices had grown louder. She recognized Elizabeth’s voice. And Cindy!

  They were coming into the kitchen. Alafair turned around and saw the glow of lantern light through the pantry curtains as they entered the room, and she almost spoke in order to make her presence known.

  “So has Dillon found Tony Arruda?” Elizabeth was asking.

  Alafair wanted to hear the answer. She blew out the wick on her own lamp.

  “No,” Cindy said. “Levi told me that Tony has disappeared. I wouldn’t be surprised if the marshal thinks Tony has run back to Villa’s army. Levi tells me Dillon believes the Arrudas are part of a subversive organization. That’s why a Federal marshal is involved in this murder investigation in the first place. But if Tony didn’t try to kill Matty, why did he run away?”

  Elizabeth’s voice was icy with cynicism. “Do you think the marshal would believe for a minute that Tony only ‘came upon the scene’ so soon after Matt was attacked? Dillon doesn’t know the Arrudas or the Carrizals either one, or what sort of relationship they had. No, Tony knew how Dillon would see it. He did right to run.”

  By now, Elizabeth was rattling around in the cabinets, her voice muffled. “I don’t believe for a minute that Tony suspects Matt of killing his brother. Of all people, none of those Arrudas would ever hurt Matt Carrizal, not after all that him and his family have done for them. But the question is, if not Tony, who? Who would have a reason to hurt Matt? Bernie Arruda had a slew of enemies, but Matt had none that I ever heard of.”

  “Yet both were engaged in dangerous work.” Cindy said. “I only have two thoughts about it. Either someone means to stop us from bringing refugees into the country, or the two incidents have nothing to do with one another and Matty’s assault really was no more than a robbery gone wrong.”

  Alafair clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from gasping aloud. Was Cindy involved with the Yaqui railroad? She had never let on.

  “Well, if it’s to stop the Yaqui railroad, Cindy, then you’d better watch your back. It may be that everyone in the group is in danger. How many people are in your organization, anyway?”

  Cindy’s voice took on a bemused tone. “I don’t know. We’re like a chain, each only knowing a couple of links to the right or left. The only ones I knew of were Bernie and Matty and a woman in the barrio in north Tempe. My only job was to deliver messages or packages between her and Matty when I took clothing to the mission. I couldn’t even read the messages because they were always in Spanish. Whenever I’d get one I’d slip it into a bundle of used clothing, take it down to the barrio and put it into my contact’s hands. I don’t even know the woman’s name. She works for the mission. I kind of expect Matty was telling her how many refugees were coming across and when she should arrange overnight shelter or food or some such.”

  “How did Matt get these packages and letters to you?”

  “Often he’d just give me an envelope over the fence while he was visiting his parents’ house. Once in a while the lady in the barrio would give me something to bring back to Matty, as well. Most of the time he delivered his own messages to her. It all depended on if he had natural business in the barrio or in Guadalupe at the right time. He’d use Bernie as a go-between, too. Sometimes Bernie would leave a letter for the barrio under the flower pot, or sometimes one of the personal notes. I could tell if the note was for me personally, because he always tied those up with a ribbon.”

  “Have you told Levi about your clandestine activities?”

  “No. Matt told me that secrecy is important no matter how sympathetic I think someone might be. But after what Levi told me tonight I think our enterprise is not such a secret after all. ”

  “What about Geoff?”

  Cindy sounded alarmed. “Mercy, no. Besides, after all that has happened, I think I’m finished with carrying notes. Dillon is bound and determined to find out who all is involved and clap us in jail.”

  “Well, I doubt if you have anything to worry about,” Elizabeth assured her. “It will never cross Dillon’s mind that you could have anything to do with it. And even if your group is shut down, it’s likely there are a lot of people of good will around here who will continue to help those who need it, Cindy.”

  The two women took their snacks and their conversation back into the parlor, leaving their stunned eavesdropper staring into the darkness and trying to make sense of what she had just heard. This put a whole new twist on things. Never in a million years would she have suspected that woman was capable of intrigue. Then again… She found herself remembering the conversation she had had with Levi that afternoon. Who would suspect me of helping
Mexicans? My father is my best armor and hiding place, he had said. Just so, who would suspect as vapid a creature as Cindy?

  Alafair did not know how long she stood pondering, but she suddenly realized that the house was quiet. Cindy must have gone home. It occurred to her that Blanche had either gone to sleep by now or was impatiently awaiting her cookie. She looked down and was surprised to see that she was still clutching it in her hand. She picked up the snuffed lamp and stepped out from behind the curtains just as Elizabeth came back into the kitchen with two empty desert plates.

  They both yelped, startled.

  “Alafair! What in the cat hair are you doing up?”

  Alafair was not in the mood to prevaricate. “I heard everything y’all said when you were here in the kitchen. Now fill me in on the rest.”

  A Different Cindy

  Elizabeth was happy to tell her everything. “Cindy showed up at the door around nine. Seems Geoff telephoned her and confessed his little affair. The coward. Couldn’t even do it face to face. And on top of everything, after Cindy hung up Levi told her he knew about Geoff’s dalliances all along and suggested that if her husband was better satisfied, he would have stayed at home. She said she came over because she wanted a sympathetic ear, but I figured it was more like she was afraid she would smack Levi one if she didn’t leave.” Her mouth twisted in irony. “I told her it was Geoff she ought to smack. He swore to her he’ll never do it again. No, never, never again. She told him he could just very well stay where he is tonight while she thinks over if she wants to forgive him.”

  Alafair was impatient. “That is all very fine and good, but did you know before this that Cindy was part of the Yaqui railroad?”

  “No, I didn’t. She sure played it close to the vest, didn’t she?” Elizabeth sounded proud of her friend. “I reckon she’s still got some of the old starch in her that she had when we first met.”

  “How did it come out?”

  “She just told me, straight out. I guess Geoff’s confession put her of a mind to quit keeping secrets.”

  “Did she say anything about her own dalliance?”

  “I tried to bring it up, but she wasn’t inclined to discuss it. She still maintains she did nothing wrong, apart from not putting a stop to his blandishments. I told her that in view of how Geoff treated her, I wouldn’t blame her no matter what she did.”

  “Elizabeth, when Cindy said something about her secret organization not being such a secret any more, it gave me a notion. Do you suppose that Cindy’s daddy got wind of what she was doing?”

  Elizabeth’s eyebrows flew upward. “Mr. Gillander? For Cindy’s sake, I’d hate to think so! But he was there at the party, and you did see that there was tension between Gillander and Bernie. He could have found out about Bernie’s indiscreet notes to his daughter as easily as anybody else. But if I remember right, he left the party early.”

  “So did Bernie. But as it turns out he was just next door being murdered.”

  “Well, if the murderer has got to be someone who was at my house that night, I’m partial to the idea that it could be old Gillander. A more unpleasant and tendentious person I never did meet. I could believe that he just might have killed Bernie, sister. But why try to kill Matt?”

  “I don’t know. And the old man did act surprised when Artie told him that someone has as much as murdered Matt.” Alafair fell silent for a moment, thinking. “Do you remember when we stopped in to the restaurant after the trip to Guadalupe? Matt got some kind of idea after we had talked for a spell and hustled us out of there right smartly.”

  “That’s true, I had forgot! He said that you never know what white folks will do.”

  “He also said he didn’t want to tell us anything until after he had talked it over with someone.”

  “So you reckon Matt figured out Gillander may have done it and confronted him, and then the old man tried to kill him in order to shut him up?”

  “I don’t know, Elizabeth. It makes as much sense as anything else.”

  “Or maybe Cindy has it right when she says that Bernie’s murder had nothing to do with the attack on Matt.”

  They reached the end of their train of logic and stood gazing at one another in the dim light. Finally Alafair broke the silence. “Now what do we do?”

  Cutting Down

  Alafair walked out to call the children for breakfast and was taken aback to realize that for the first time since she had been here, she could see directly into the Stewart’s back yard. The overgrown hedges that separated the Stewart and Kemp properties had been trimmed down far enough to see over. Cindy was on her porch, talking to Levi who was standing on the ground below her, clutching a rake handle in one hand. Though it was a cool morning, his face was rosy from exertion and his fair hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat.

  Levi had more than enough help with his yard maintenance chores. Chase and Blanche were busily underfoot, raking the trimmings onto a large tarp for disposal. Cindy caught sight of Alafair standing by the gate and waved her over.

  “Morning, Miz Tucker.” Levi tipped his straw hat to her and she nodded at him.

  “Oh, Alafair!” Cindy was aglow with happiness. “Wonderful news. Elena was over here just a minute ago to tell us that Matty’s doing better. In fact, he’s taken such a turn for the better that Doctor Moeur thinks there’s a chance he’ll live yet. Elena says the doctor is amazed.”

  An amazing turn, or something else? Alafair immediately conjured the image of Mrs. Carrizal chopping the heads off of six little doves in the dead of night. “That is wonderful news! Elizabeth will be so glad to hear it.”

  “I told Elena I’d go over for a visit later, though she said he’s not waked up yet.”

  Levi was more cautious. “Don’t get too hopeful yet, Cindy. She also said he ain’t out of the woods yet.”

  Cindy threw her brother an annoyed glance. “Well, I’d rather have some hope than none at all.”

  Alafair decided to change the subject. “Ya’ll have got the yard looking nice. When I came outside it give me a start to be able to see right over the hedge.”

  “It’s about time we had that hedge cut down,” Cindy said. “The place has just about gone to rack and ruin without a man around.”

  “I imagine Levi is glad to earn his keep.”Alafair smiled at Levi, though she thought, about time indeed. If the bushes had not obstructed the view on the night of the party, someone might have seen whoever followed Bernie Arruda into the yard with murder in mind.

  Cindy bubbled on, still in a happy mood. “The leaf litter under the bushes has not been raked for a long time. Since last fall probably, so Levi and the kids got quite a pile. They raked the chicken yard, too, and under the porch here. Who knows how long it’s been since that was done?”

  Propriety satisfied, Levi plopped his hat back on and turned to go back to his task. He had only taken a few steps when he halted in his tracks. His lips thinned and his cheeks flushed even redder. Alafair understood his sudden pique when a familiar figure in a business suit rounded the corner from the front of the house.

  Cindy stiffened. “Geoff!”

  Alafair took a step back into the shadow of the porch overhang, willing herself invisible.

  Geoff stopped walking when Cindy said his name. He snatched his fedora off his head, and for a long, uncomfortable minute, nobody moved or spoke.

  Alafair studied the prodigal husband with interest. She had only seen the man once, at the open house, and it had been evening then. She was struck by his superficial resemblance to Levi Gillander. Both men were blond-haired and blue-eyed, with complexions that flushed at the slightest provocation. Geoff was a much more substantial figure, though, sleek and well-fed. He didn’t look quite as self-satisfied as the last time she had seen him. He looked much chastened, in fact, like he wished he could sink into the ground rather than bear Cindy’s withering regard.

  “Cindy…” The name came out in a croak. Geoff cleared his throat and tried again. “Cin
dy, I’m sorry. That woman never meant anything to me. You’re the only one I care for. I never meant to hurt you. I did my best to be discreet. I always tried to be considerate. It doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Considerate!” Cindy’s tone was incredulous.

  “Please, Cindy. I never wanted to hurt you. Haven’t I always given you everything you wanted? Don’t you think we could start afresh? I’ll do whatever you say.”

  A change came over Cindy’s girlish face, aging her a decade in an instant. She walked down the steps and brushed past her husband without looking at him.

  “Where are you going?” He sounded surprised.

  Cindy continued walking. “I’m going to ask Mrs. Carrizal if I can sit with Matty for a while.”

  “I’ll wait for you.”

  “I don’t care what you do, Geoff.” She never looked back.

  “I’ll help with the tree trimming, shall I?” Geoff called to her retreating figure. When Cindy did not reply, he stood and watched her until she disappeared through the hedge gate into the Carrizal back yard. He glanced up at Alafair with an absent expression before he sighed, picked up an armload of sticks and twigs, and carried them away. Blanche and Chase were standing by the hedge with their rakes in hand, observing the confrontation with wide eyes and mouths agape. Levi was nowhere to be seen.

  A Turn for the Better

  Cindy walked into the Carrizal house through the back door to find Mrs. Carrizal sitting alone at the kitchen table. Most of the Carrizal relatives had finally gone home to sleep, wash, change clothes before resuming their vigil. The older woman and the younger gazed at one another for a long moment, saying nothing.

  Cindy finally broke the silence. “I am so sorry I haven’t been to see you before now. When it seemed so sure that he would die, I just didn’t have the heart to come. But this morning Elena told me that he has taken a turn for the better. Is it true?”