Death at Dark Water

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Death at Dark Water Page 19

by John D. Nesbitt


  “I see. Then you spoke with him already.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then what is the other good?”

  “You have the chance to show that you weren’t lying to protect this man. It would be much worse if people were to go on thinking that you had that motive.”

  “Is that what they think?”

  “Some do.”

  “Well, thank you. I might not have thought about that right away.”

  “The sheriff, according to him, was going to come out tomorrow morning. Now he will have two reasons. Meanwhile, it’s good to be prepared as things come to a resolution.”

  “I appreciate it.” After a moment of silence, she spoke again. “And yourself? Does any of this affect you?”

  “Of course, all of it does in the sense that it has helped me to understand your way of life here. But as for my work, which I think is what you probably mean, I believe I had already reached a point there.”

  “Reached a point?”

  “What I mean is, I think I have studied the old church enough.”

  “You are full up with it.”

  “Something like that. I feel that I have gotten as much out of it as I am going to.”

  “And so you will leave. You will go away.”

  He nodded. “I think it is time.”

  Her eyes roved over him. “It is not for anything we have done here?”

  “Oh, no. You have treated me well, and I find both you and your mother, each in your own way, very cordial and gracious. And interesting. But I know it is going to take time for both of you to live through these things that have happened. It is not a good time to have a frequent visitor, with whatever motives, and it would not be a good reason, now, for me to stay in Tinaja.”

  “You may be right. My heart is cold and closed right now.”

  “Things don’t happen all at once,” he said. “Well, some things do, like this, but other things, like problems of feeling, they take time.”

  “That is one more truth I have heard from you. You have not lived your few years in vain.”

  He smiled. “Maybe it just means I have not been very good at solving problems.”

  “Well,” she said in a resigned tone, “you know what you must do. But when you leave, you must come here again to say farewell. It would not be good if you didn’t take leave of my mother, and right now is not a good time.”

  “That’s true. I will pass by here on my way.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Carlos was waiting in the reception area when Devon came down for breakfast the next morning. As he rose from his chair and stood ready to shake hands, Devon surmised the young man knew he was out of trouble. His light-brown eyes had a clear, open expression, and he was clean-shaven. Even his drooping mustache looked less mournful. He was neatly dressed as always, in a brown corduroy jacket and trousers and a clean white shirt. As he reached out his hand, Devon noticed, in addition to its not being roughened by work, a yellowish stain on the thumb and first two fingers. In spite of his fresh appearance, he had been smoking plenty of cigarettes.

  As they shook hands and exchanged “Buenos días,” Devon invited Carlos to join him for breakfast. Once they were seated in the dining room, Carlos began the conversation with what Devon took to be his sense of appropriate form.

  “I understand some notable events took place last night, and I want to thank you for your part in it all.”

  “I didn’t do much, and I didn’t succeed in getting Don Felipe to heed my warning.”

  “Yes, but you also took the initiative earlier. I understand you were able to get my cousin to disclose a truth that otherwise might not have come out.”

  Devon was gratified to know that Petra’s testimony, or her willingness to give it, was now common knowledge. “Well, yes, that was a good thing, although it may have precipitated the revenge of Ricardo’s family.”

  Carlos wagged his head in a small motion. “They might have done it anyway. After all, Don Felipe issued his death threat in the presence of both Ricardo and his father.” He tipped his head again. “But this way, it is clear who did what.”

  “Oh, yes. It’s best to have the truth out.”

  Federico appeared with two cups of coffee and returned to the kitchen.

  “I hope it has not been too great a distraction from your work,” Carlos resumed.

  “Not much. I think I have achieved as much as I could expect on this visit.”

  “Oh, really? Are you close to finishing, then? Will you be leaving?”

  “I think so. I have to take leave of a couple of people, but otherwise there is not much to detain me here.”

  “I’m glad I dropped by this morning, then.”

  “Oh, fear not. I would have come by your house.”

  “That’s good. And in any future time, likewise, you will always be welcome there.” Carlos’s eyebrows drew together in a thoughtful gesture. “Do you leave today, then? Does the coach go today?”

  “Actually, it does not leave today, but rather than wait two days, I will rent a couple of horses. One for me, and one for my things.”

  “Oh, uh-huh.”

  “The coachman will bring them back on his next round.”

  “That’s a long trip to make, alone.”

  Devon sensed that Carlos saw it as something that he himself would not do. “Well, I came here on my own, and I’ve been riding back and forth to the rancho by myself, and the horse knows me.”

  “Ah, that’s good. And you are very competent.”

  Devon smiled. “At some things. I don’t know if I could roll a cigarette with a cornhusk or ride a wild horse.”

  Carlos shrugged as he gave a casual downturn to his mouth and a toss of his head. “Cada chancho a su rancho.” Each pig to its own ranch. Then, in his tone of appropriate form, he said, “Do you plan to say farewell to my aunt and cousin?”

  “Yes.” Thinking itmight help to dispelworry about the cousin, Devon added, “And to a person here in town, not to be mentioned in the same sentence, but someone who has treated me well all the same.”

  Carlos gave a flicker of recognition. “That is something to be missed.”

  “Indeed it is. As I heard once in a saying, if there are days in which the duck swims, there are others in which he doesn’t even get a drink of water.”

  Carlos laughed. “You speak Spanish very well—too well to visit only once.”

  The house with no windows in front had a different cast to it in the light of mid-morning than it did on Devon’s previous visits. With the sun at his back he tapped on the door frame with his penknife, and after waiting a few minutes he tapped again. At last the door opened, and the woman with the wide face and reddish hair appeared. She was wearing a housecoat that, along with the puffiness of her features, confirmed Devon’s expectation that things would be moving slowly at this hour.

  “What do you want?”

  “Excuse me, I know it is early, but I am leaving town, and I just wanted to say good-bye to the young woman here who has been my friend.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “A few minutes, nothingmore, in the front room.” The madame shook her head and said again, “I don’t know.” She cast a glance over Devon, said, “Just a minute,” and closed the door.

  Devon stood warming in the sunlight. He felt conspicuous, and he thought he should feel foolish, although he didn’t.

  The door opened, and the madame’s features presented themselves again. “Come in. But don’t make much noise. The others are still sleeping.”

  Devon walked into the dusky parlor, where one lamp had been lit and placed on a sideboard at the end of the room. The madame closed the door behind him, crossed the room, and went into the curtained hallway. He heard her voice and another, and a few seconds later Ramona came into the room.

  Like her landlady, she was wearing a housecoat with nightclothes visible at top and bottom. Her hair fell loose at her shoulders, and although she was not wearing lipstick, rouge, or
earrings, her face had a rested, composed look to it, and the bronze texture of her skin was pleasing to his eye.

  “Señor artista,” she said, giving him her hand. “What is such an early visit owing to?”

  “I am sorry to bother anyone, but I told you I would come by to see you before I left town, and it seems that today is the day I leave.”

  “Oh, that is too bad,” she said, withwhat he thought was some degree of sincerity. “We willmiss you.”

  “I will certainly miss you, and I will think about you often.”

  She half-closed her eyes as she nodded. “How nice. If you ever come this way again, you must come here—unless your company does not allow it.” A restrained smile played on her face.

  “Yours is the company I like the most.”

  “Very amiable.” Her face relaxed. “Your company has been pleasant as well.”

  He took a breath as he put himself up to say what he had thought out. “Also on my last visit, I said I could give you my name and address on a slip of paper.” He took the folded paper from his jacket pocket and handed it to her. “There is no obligation, but if you ever feel inclined to write, especially if you go back to the Republic, your correspondence would be very welcome.”

  “Thank you.” She took the paper and without unfolding it put it in the pocket of her robe. “There is no way to predict the future.”

  “That’s true.”

  “You go north, and I go south, if God pleases. You do not know what kind of life awaits me there. And here, this is how you know me.” She waved her hand at the room in general.

  He shrugged. “To me you are a woman more than a person in a particular line of work. Wherever I saw you again, I would be pleased. Meanwhile, you have treated me well and you have done me good. I will have fine memories of you.”

  “That is very good, señor artista. And thank you for keeping your word and coming to see me before you leave. I will not throw away your address.”

  She gave him her hand again and wished him a good trip, and then he was outside in the bright daylight, recognizing what a nice illusion it had been and reminding himself of the things he had yet to do.

  Rancho Agua Prieta looked solid and whole as he rode up to the stone gateway. This place would go on, he told himself, prevailing from one generation to the next. For all he knew, either Doña Emilia or Petra could bring a new master to the rancho, someone with a new set of habits and preferences, but the rancho itself would maintain its character.

  Alfonso was nowhere in sight as a dark man in a peaked straw hat, one of the two regulars, opened the gate and let Devon ride through. The dark pool on his left lay in the cool shadows of late morning, and the horses in the stalls looked out with curiosity at the saddle horse, which they knew, and the unfamiliar packhorse that trailed behind.

  Devon rode forward, crossing the parade ground and noticing where someone had raked dirt across the spot where the body had fallen. When he lifted his eyes, he saw Petra standing in the doorway of the portal. He lifted his hand in greeting, then continued to the hitching rail, where he tied the two horses.

  He walked toward her as she stood there, poised. She was wearing a dark gray, full-length dress with long sleeves, which gave her a somber aspect. Her hair was not tied back as usual, but her face still held a tight expression.

  “You are all ready to leave,” she said as she took a couple of steps away from the doorway and into the yard.

  “It’s a long trip, but I can make it in one day, and I didn’t have any strong reasons for staying.”

  She gave him her hand, ungloved. “Very good on your part to come by and take leave of us.”

  He took her hand and released it, noticing her little silver cross as he did so. “I couldn’t have done otherwise.”

  She put her hands together in front of her, then turned sideways and lifted her right hand in a motion toward the door. “Come in where there is shade.”

  “Thank you.”

  He took off his hat and followed her into the portal. The door to the tack room was closed, but the door to the house was open, and he heard footsteps within. Then the door opened, and Doña Emilia, dressed fully in black, stepped outside. On her chest lay a silver cross bordered in black, larger than the one she usually wore.

  “Oh, señor artista, how good of you to come. I’m afraid we haven’t been very good to you.” In spite of her attempt to be cheerful, her face was etched with sadness, and her eyes were dark and sunken. She gave Devon her hand, which felt cold.

  “To the contrary, señora, I feel that I have helped bring grief upon you. I am sorry to see you have to suffer so.”

  “It is the will of God,” she said. “He commands in all things.”

  “That is true. But your sadness still gives me pain.” After a couple of seconds of pause, he went on. “I am also sorry to say that I come today to say good-bye.”

  The expression on her face softened. “Oh, are you going back to your own land?”

  “With regrets, yes.”

  “And you are finished with your work here?”

  “For now, yes.”

  “Well, it is sad that you are going, but if you should realize one or more paintings of what you have seen here, we would love to see them and perhaps to have one.”

  “Indeed. If I were to paint, I would come back to do it, and so you would be the first to see the work.”

  “Then you may not do a painting.”

  “It is possible. But even at that, I do not have to have themotive of painting in order to return for a visit.”

  “Oh, that’s the important thing.” She gave him her hand again. “You will forgive me, señor, but I have many things to do inside. Thank you for coming, and please remember that you are always welcome at this house.”

  “Thank you very much, Doña Emilia.”

  As the sad lady went back into the house, Devon turned to Petra, who was standing close by in the shade of the portal. He saw she was not wearing earrings, a point of contrast that added to the austere mood of the day. He waited for her to speak.

  “And so you are leaving before you finish your work?”

  “Not really. As I told you last night, I feel that I have done as much as I am going to do on this trip.”

  “We have ruined your work for you.”

  “No, not at all. I believe my work has spoken to me and has told me, ‘Enough, now.’ ”

  “Oh? Do you think it is your destiny, then, not to paint a picture or pictures of the church?”

  “Who knows? But not on this trip.”

  “Then you did not fulfill what you came for.”

  “Actually, I believe I did. I was looking for some thing, and I wasn’t sure what. I had the illusion that I was going to find my vision, and I didn’t. But I did learn that I was not going to find it all at once, all in one place.”

  “And there was another part, wasn’t there?”

  “Oh, yes. I thought that the complete vision would give me the ability to go back into my life with more power to act, but in reality I believe I have recovered that anyway.”

  “The ability.”

  “Yes. Although I did not find a full vision, I have experienced some things here that have made a difference in how I see life, and I imagine that if I try to find another place that offers peace and solitude, I will probably find something there worth seeing as well.”

  “In fragments.”

  “In parts, yes. And depending on how life looks to me after I’ve been gone fromhere for awhile, Imight come back this way, for one motive or another.”

  “You know that you are always welcome at Rancho Agua Prieta.”

  “Thank you. It is an honor.”

  As she gave him her hand again, her eyes met his. They were dark, but softer than before.

  “It is an honor for us to have your friendship,” she said. “May God care for you on your trip.”

  “Thank you. And may God support you and your mother as you make your way through t
his difficult time.”

  “Thank you, señor artista.”

  He made a slight bow, then turned and went out into the bright day. He felt a tightness in his throat as he put on his hat and walked to the hitching rail. After untying the horses and turning them, he looked toward the portal and saw Petra in the doorway with her hand raised.

  He waved back, then got his reins and lead rope in place and swung aboard. As the saddle horse lined out, he looked back at the packhorse and caught another wave from Petra. He moved his head to toss her a wave with his hat brim; then he rode across the yard, past the dark pool and shading cottonwood trees, through the stone gateway, and onto the plains. As the horse set out northward, he tipped his hat to the best of Rancho Agua Prieta, Dark Water Ranch.

  Other Leisure books by John D. Nesbitt:

  RAVEN SPRINGS

  LONESOME RANGE

  RANCHO ALEGRE

  WEST OF ROCK RIVER

  RED WIND CROSSING

  BLACK HAT BUTTE

  FOR THE NORDEN BOYS

  MAN FROM WOLF RIVER

  NORTH OF CHEYENNE

  COYOTE TRAIL

  WILD ROSE OF RUBY CANYON

  BLACK DIAMOND RENDEZVOUS

  ONE-EYED COWBOY WILD

  Copyright

  A LEISURE BOOK®

  February 2008

  Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.

  200 Madison Avenue

  New York, NY 10016

  Copyright © 2008 by John D. Nesbitt

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher

  E-ISBN 13: 978-1-4285-0195-9

  The name “Leisure Books” and the stylized “L” with design are trademarks of Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.

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