“It's Harry, you old grouch,” a voice fussed from the back porch. “It's our card night, remember?”
“Well I'll be,” Nate said and shook his head. He apologized to the women. “Old Nate done went and forgot all about Uno night.” Nate walked over to the back door, disengaged the lock, and pulled the door open. A man about Nate's age stepped into the kitchen, his wrinkled face dominated by a pair of grumpy eyes. “Come on in, Harry.” Sarah quickly put her gun away and sat down.
Harry spotted Sarah sitting down and shot Nate an indignant eye. “You forgot me over a pair of pretty gals, huh?”
“No, no,” Nate fussed back.
Sarah grinned. Harry was the spitting image of Nate, clothes and all. Worn blue jeans, faded and patched flannel shirts with pearl buttons worn down by years of use, and carefully trimmed hair beneath a cap with a seed company logo above the brim. The only difference between Harry and Nate was that Harry was Asian, perhaps Chinese, but Sarah couldn’t be certain. “Who are you?” Harry asked and tossed a deck of Uno cards down onto the kitchen table. “You the fuzz?”
“Oh, good grief, man,” Nate griped, “will you sit down and close your mouth.” Nate closed the back door and locked it. “Harry Widster, this is Sarah, retired detective, and her friend Amanda, staying here for the night while…uh, while they get their car fixed. Beans will be done shortly. We'll all eat and play us some Uno until we’re ready to take a gander at the back of our eyelids.”
“Not me,” Harry shook his head. “Insomnia isn't letting me sleep but three or four hours a night.” Harry looked to Sarah and Amanda for sympathy. “I wish I could sleep.”
“You can sleep, you old coot,” Nate complained. “And you would, too, if you'd stop drinking a pot of coffee before bed.”
Harry waved a hand at Nate in irritation. “Coffee has nothing to do with it. Dr. Dalton said—”
“Dr. Dalton will say anything to keep paranoid old farts like you dishing out money for useless office visits,” Nate exclaimed and walked back to the stove, mumbling to himself.
Sarah and Amanda both grinned at each other. “I've got insomnia,” Harry insisted and threw his hand at Nate. “That old man doesn't know what he's talking about.”
“At least I don't cheat at Uno,” Nate commented as he stirred the beans.
“Are you saying that I do?” Harry shot back.
“I don't chew my cabbage twice, old man,” Nate replied and shook the wooden spoon in his hand at Harry. “You know it ain't right to hold them draw four cards till the end.”
“Says who?” Harry argued. “The rules doesn't say I can't hold my draw four cards. You're just a poor loser.”
“I'll poor loser you,” Nate said and gritted his teeth. “Must be out of my mind to play Uno with a cheat like you—”
“Uh, how long have you two known each other?” Sarah asked, hoping to de-escalate the argument.
“Since we were knee-high to a toad frog,” Nate replied, the sourness fading.
“I was the best man at Nate's wedding,” Harry said in a proud voice.
“You sure were,” Nate smiled. And just like that, the argument was over and the warmth of friendship began to glow. “Old Harry and me go way back. His momma dropped him off at the orphanage that used to be in these parts and made tracks.” Nate shook his head. “Skinniest kid I ever saw. Shameful.”
Harry folded his arms together. “The orphanage got me work on Nate's farm when his daddy was working the land. I'd come out here and work with Nate and his daddy five days a week.”
“Yes sir,” Nate said, “Harry was sure a good worker. My daddy sure loved him, too, and so did my momma.”
“It wasn't long before they adopted me,” Harry said in a proud tone. “I kept my ma’s name. But Nate and me became brothers.”
“That's right,” Nate smiled at Harry in a way only an old friend could. “Me and Harry are tighter than ticks.”
Harry beamed. “Nate's daddy helped me buy my own farm. I was sure happy about that because I didn't want to leave Prate, but I knew someday I would have to make a life for myself.”
“Uh huh,” Nate continued for Harry. “Harry's farm is just a stretch down the road. He did real well for himself, too. Ended up selling farm equipment along with his crops. Smart man.”
“Are you married?” Amanda asked Harry.
“My Julia went to be with Jesus five years ago,” Harry told Amanda and grew silent.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—”
Harry lifted his right hand. “Don't be sorry,” he said in a soft voice. “My Julia is waiting for me just like Nate's wife is waiting for him.”
“Two fine women waiting for us,” Nate said.
“The best,” Harry agreed. He looked at Sarah. “Is that your dog?”
“It belongs to my best friend Amanda here. The puppy is Mittens,” Sarah said.
Harry focused on Amanda. “Are you from England?”
“Why, yes,” Amanda smiled. “But I live in Alaska with my husband now. A little town called Snow Falls. Sarah lives there, too. We're on our way to Los Angeles but we had a flat tire and Nate picked us up.”
Nate carefully turned around and met Sarah’s eyes – she nodded, knowing what he was asking – then he turned back and began stirring the beans again. “Harry, these two women are in some kind of trouble,” he said. “After I picked them up off the road some gun-happy lunatic driving one of them fancy cars came racing at us with guns blazing.” Nate turned around and pointed the wooden spoon he was holding at Sarah. “She is a retired homicide detective from Los Angeles. The Sheriff reckons that has something to do with it.”
“A detective?” Harry asked.
“Retired,” Sarah stated.
“A cop never retires,” Harry corrected Sarah.
Nate studied Sarah's face and then continued. “Somebody went and killed a woman she knows and dumped the body in her jeep while we were down at Monroe’s farm. Sheriff Bufford is as mad a wet hornet, too. He's forcing her to stay in town and solve the murder herself. He’s deputizing her in the morning.”
“Do you expect anything more from Paul?” Harry asked with a chuckle. “The only thing that man knows about the law is how to spell the word.”
Amanda fought back laughter. Sarah bit down on her bottom lip. “Sheriff Bufford seems...a bit overwhelmed,” Amanda managed to say.
“Overwhelmed my foot,” Harry cackled. “Paul Bufford has the IQ of swamp gas and everyone knows it.”
“Don't matter how smart Paul is or isn't,” Nate pointed out, “because we were shot at and a woman was killed.”
The mention of the murder of Rebecca sobered Sarah's mind. Rebecca’s death tugged at her heart. Even though they had not been close, she had cherished their connection and she knew she would have to put those feelings away in order to focus on the case. It made her sick to think that Rebecca might have been killed as part of a plot to warn her away from Los Angeles. The antics between Nate and Harry had been amusing but it was time to focus back on the case at hand. “The people who killed Rebecca could still be around,” she said in a cautious voice. “Harry, you didn't pass anybody on the road on your way over here, did you?”
“A couple of bored deer was all my old eyes saw,” Harry informed Sarah. “I guess we're not playing Uno tonight, Nate.”
“Why not?” Nate asked. “Ain't no sense in sitting here worrying ourselves sick over something we can't change.”
“True,” Harry agreed. “Beans ready?”
“Get the bowls and I'll cut the cornbread.”
Sarah watched Nate and Harry prepare their late dinner with her tired eyes drooping. The puppy had eaten and curled up on a cushion in the corner and fallen asleep. When Nate brought Sarah a bowl of pinto beans and cornbread she gave him a grateful smile even though she was no longer hungry. “Looks good.”
“Want a slice of onion?” Harry asked.
“No thanks,” Sarah said. She looked at Amanda. “Onion?”
> “Sure, why not,” Amanda replied and winked at Nate. “We'll have onion breath together.”
“Beans ain't fit without a slice of onion,” Nate agreed.
After Harry and Nate brought the food to the table, Nate poured four glasses of cold iced tea and sat down. “Lord, we thank you from our hearts for this food because You feed Your children. In Jesus’ sweet name, amen.”
“Amen,” Amanda smiled and grabbed her spoon. “I'm starved. Let's eat.”
Sarah picked up her spoon and slowly took a bite of beans. “We're going to see what we can dig up, first thing in the morning,” she told Nate and glanced at Amanda. “Amanda is my partner. She'll help me get to the core of this case.”
“You're dealing with mighty dangerous people,” Nate warned Sarah. “This here is Prate, not Los Angeles. It's easier to kill someone in the woods and not be seen than on a crowded sidewalk in front of a bunch of watchful eyes.”
“You think the people who killed Rebecca might try and kill me?” Sarah asked.
“Maybe the rats who are after you killed that woman as a way to warn you off,” Nate said in a thoughtful voice and took a bite of cornbread, “and maybe they left town? But then again, maybe not.”
“Maybe they're hanging back to see if I'll take their message seriously,” Sarah said.
Nate nodded. “Yep. Don't make sense for the bad guys to go through so much trouble and then go back to where they came from without being sure their message was taken seriously.”
Amanda took a hearty bite of beans, savored their rich flavor after such a long, hungry day, and then grabbed her glass of tea. “Rebecca must have known the truth,” she pointed out.
Sarah took a sip of her tea. “When I spoke to Rebecca this morning she seemed like her old self. Of course, she could have been acting. Rebecca did act in a few movies in her younger years.” Sarah mused over this idea. “She seemed excited about the book deal with J&P Brothers...what changed between the time I called her and the time she was killed? Where was she when I called her? I need to find out her location.”
“How?” Amanda asked. “Can you trace her cell phone somehow?”
“I'm not sure yet,” Sarah confessed. “What I do know, and what I want everyone sitting at this table to know, is that Rebecca was a brilliant businesswoman. Her mind was sharper than the edge of a razor and her mouth was just as sharp when it came to dealing with those suits in Los Angeles. There's no way she would have walked into a trap. She's dead because she became a threat.”
Harry’s eyes widened to hear talk like this. Nate took a bite of beans followed by some onion and smiled at his friend, as if to indicate that things were still normal. “Let's back up a few steps,” Nate told Sarah. “You were on the right track about wondering where that woman was at when you called her. That's a mighty important fact.”
“I know,” Sarah admitted. “I doubt she was in Prate, but she couldn't have been in Los Angeles, either. Where was she?”
“Love,” Amanda said, as a sudden thought struck her, “when I asked how anyone could have known our location, you suggested that maybe your cell phone was being tracked. If that's true...uh, well, doesn't that mean the bad guys know where we're at right now?”
Nate glanced at the back door with calm eyes. “I guess we'll find out if bullets come flying through the kitchen at us,” he said and took an unhurried bite.
Sarah pulled a piece of cornbread off. “I threw my cell phone out of the back of Nate's truck on the ride here,” she told them. “The only place anyone is going to find my cell phone is in the woods.”
“Oh, you're a darling,” Amanda beamed.
Nate nodded. “Smart woman.” Even Harry looked impressed.
Sarah lowered her eyes to the bowl of beans sitting before her. “I can’t believe Rebecca got caught up in all this,” she sighed. “Rebecca is dead...and it's my fault. If I had been smarter I would have asked her more questions. Instead, I acted like a giddy school girl. I should have known something was wrong.”
“How?” Amanda asked. “Love, Rebecca called to inform you that a major studio wanted to turn your books into movies. You couldn’t know it was a trap. That kind of news would have thrilled anyone to the bone. Why, if I had been you I would have done front flips all the way to Los Angeles. You can't blame yourself, love. You're only human.”
“I'm also a cop,” Sarah replied and raised her eyes. She wanted to condemn herself but the truth was Amanda was right. How could she have known a trap was being set for her? “And as a cop, I need to start asking myself questions. Question one: where was Rebecca when I called her this morning? Question two: Why did they kill Rebecca and not me? Why did the people behind the killing give me a warning instead of killing me?”
“Time will tell,” Amanda said and winced. “Yes, love, I'm afraid time is going to answer all of our questions in a very bad way.” Amanda patted Mittens softly on her head. “It's always that way, you know...the answers you’re seeking are given in bad ways. But me and you, Los Angeles, we're ready for the worst because we've dealt with the worst. So...well...bring it on, bad guys, right?”
Sarah looked at Nate and then at Harry and finally back to Amanda. She felt tired, angry, upset and scared. But what she felt most was the need to find answers. Someone didn't want her to take this trip to Los Angeles or sign this contract. Or worse, she thought without voicing her thoughts: someone was playing a very deadly game of cat and mouse that didn't even involve Rebecca, or anyone at J&P Brothers. It could be a deadly and intelligent killer out for revenge. For all she knew, the studio contract could have been a smokescreen to hide something much more nefarious. “I need to make a phone call,” she said and looked at Harry with hopeful eyes. “Harry, please tell me you have a landline phone in your home.”
Harry took a large bite of beans and chased them with a generous chug of tea. “I have a phone,” he said and took another bite.
“Since when?” Nate asked.
“If you ever came over to my house instead of making me come here you would have seen that I had a phone installed in my house last year. I had to get rid of that awful cell phone my daughter sent me,” Harry said grumpily. “I guess this means no Uno game after all,” he grumbled.
“Harry please, I need to use your phone,” Sarah pleaded.
Nate raised his right hand. “Calm down,” he urged Sarah. “Let's fill our bellies and let our brains settle a while and then we'll take a drive over to Harry's.”
“I'll have seconds if you don't mind,” Amanda told Nate and lifted her bowl in the air. “I'll also have some more cornbread. No sense in dying hungry.”
Sarah drew in a deep breath and decided Amanda was right. What was the sense in being hungry, she thought. It was going to be a long night. “I think I'll have seconds, too,” she told Nate and finished her beans so she could pass him her empty bowl. Outside in the dark night, shreds of clouds roamed past the moon with twisted faces.
Chapter Four
Harry's home was nearly identical to Nate's; except Harry's home seemed to be stuck in the 1950s instead of the 1930s. Like Nate's home, Harry's place was clean, warm and welcoming. “Phone is hanging next to the refrigerator. I had it put there because it's easy to remember,” Harry told Sarah in a self-important voice. “My hearing aid made me think that ugly cell phone was ringing from every room in the house. Now I know when I hear a phone ring to make a path into the kitchen. Just like in the old days when everybody had a landline.”
“You need to get a phone,” Amanda told Nate and drew in a deep breath of cinnamon. Harry's kitchen was delightful.
“Nope,” Nate replied in a stubborn voice. “I ain't never had a phone and never intend to. Ain't right for folks to be so lazy when they want to talk to each other. Folks need to visit one another and say hello in person. Neighbors need to sit and talk to each other.”
“That old fart,” Harry told Amanda. “My brother’s set in his ways. Trying to convince him to get a phone would be like tr
ying to convince a pebble to turn into a marshmallow.”
“You're the one to talk. You swore you'd never get a phone. You sure didn't keep your word,” Nate fired back at Harry.
“My daughter told me to get a phone or she was going to hire a live-in caretaker,” Harry told Nate. “You know we ain't those kind of people, Nate.”
Nate shoved his hands down into the pockets of his pants. “Why didn't you say so in the first place? I would have understood.”
“You've been worrying over your cancer and—” Harry stopped talking. His face became sorrowful. “Nate, I'm sorry. It was a slip of the tongue.”
“No worries,” Nate promised his friend with a gentle smile.
“You have cancer?” Amanda asked Nate with a broken heart.
“Prostate,” Nate fumbled for the right words, “illness comes with age. But don't you worry, Old Nate still has some good years left.”
Sarah looked into Nate's eyes. The old man was ready to die and go home to Jesus but he was also willing to wait out his time in good spirit. “Nate, if there is anything we can do—”
Nate shook his head. “Nothing for me. Now, you better make your call.”
Sarah understood Nate's reply and made her call. “Pete...yeah, it's Sarah. I—”
“Finally decided to call me,” Pete griped as he maneuvered his sturdy old Honda Accord through the back roads of Northern California.
“I had to get rid of my cell phone. And I haven't been able to get to a phone until just now, Pete. I'm sorry,” Sarah said. “I'm really far out in the country here.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Pete continued to drive, his knuckles white as he gripped the wheel. He snatched up a water bottle and took a drink of cold water. “The sheriff up there gave me a call, kid. I heard about the body, so I decided to come your way and make an appearance. When you wouldn’t answer your cell phone I got even more worried.”
“I’m sorry. Sheriff Bufford told me you were coming,” Sarah told Pete in a grateful voice. “Pete, I want to see you, but not like this...I hoped it would be under better circumstances. That said, I'm sure glad you're coming.”
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