by Thomas King
“And he’s covered his tracks.” Hockney took a deep breath. “You think he killed before Eureka?”
“Probably.”
“What about Oakes? Man was released from prison, what, two months before the killings began.”
“About that.”
“Hard to figure him for a serial killer.” Hockney took a sheet of paper from his jacket pocket. “Did some checking. Oakes was in prison for murder, but technically, he didn’t kill anyone. He was involved in a three-man bank robbery. Teller got caught in the crossfire with the police. The other two perps were killed. Oakes was wounded. But because there was a death and because he was the only one left standing, he caught the full weight.”
Duke leaned against the car. “Here’s the other interesting thing. Oakes and Anna Tripp were married three months before the bank robbery. He was eighteen. She was sixteen. These are two kids. You see what I’m saying?”
“Shipman says he can put Oakes in the area when the killings began.”
“I can see Oakes killing his wife ’cause she’s fooling around.” Duke tightened his mouth. “Happens all too often.”
Thumps jammed his hands in his pockets.
“The daughter is the part that bothers me,” said the sheriff. “What kind of father kills his child?”
“It happens.”
“Yeah,” said Duke, “it does. Which brings us back to a single serial killer or a serial killer and a pissed-off spouse.”
“And we don’t know which.”
Duke slid in behind the wheel. “See how much fun law enforcement can be?”
THE CAR AUCTION had already started by the time Thumps and the sheriff got to the fairgrounds. Anderson Cole was standing on a riser with a microphone and a gavel. George Gorka was beside her, taking bids.
“You going to try for that Cadillac?”
“Nope,” said Duke, “but I am curious to see what some fool is willing to pay for it.”
“Moses is thinking about buying a ’56 Chevy Bel Air.”
“Two-door convertible?”
“That’s the one.”
“Didn’t know he drove.”
“He doesn’t.”
“So, he doesn’t have a licence?”
“Nope.”
“Or insurance?”
“That too.”
The sheriff thought about that for a moment. “Only place he could drive the car would be on his land. On the reservation.”
“He wants to feel the wind in his hair.”
“And when he runs out of gas?”
“One tank at a time,” said Thumps.
Duke stopped beside the grandstands. “I better get home. Macy’s making fettuccine carbonara. She picked up a couple of videos on the Amalfi Coast that we’re going to watch.”
“Italy?”
“That’s where she wants to go first. Some town called Vietri sul Mare. She has this thing for ceramics.”
“Ceramics?”
“Evidently, Vietri whatever is lousy with pottery.”
“After the operation?”
“That’s the plan. You know what’s nice about living with an optimist?” Duke rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck. “Just about everything.”
Eighteen
Thumps stayed in the shade of the grandstands and watched Cole and Gorka sell cars. Every so often, he was tempted to throw up a hand, just to join in the festivities. The Cadillac went for more than he would have expected, as did the two ’56 Bel Airs. Thumps looked for Moses and Cooley, but if they were somewhere in the crowd, he didn’t see them.
Maybe the old man had had second thoughts about owning a car.
“Hey, Thumps.”
Big Fish and Lorraine.
“You going to buy a car?”
“Just slumming.”
“Lorraine has got it into her head that we should get a van,” said Big Fish. “You know, for the kid and all.”
Lorraine rubbed her belly. “We’re going to need more room than a sidecar on a motorcycle.”
“We got a sedan.”
“Two doors,” said Lorraine. “Hard to get a car seat in the back.”
“She wants new,” said Big Fish, “but I’m thinking that vintage is a better investment.”
“He wants one of those station wagons with the wood sides,” said Lorraine.
“There’s a 1950 Ford woodie coming up. Maroon with a visor.” Big Fish was all smiles. “A thing of beauty.”
“And I don’t want my baby riding around in a car that’s older than the combined ages of its parents.”
“It’s not that bad.”
Thumps saw Claire at the same time Big Fish did, standing next to a tall man. She was carrying something in her arms. It took Thumps a moment to realize that it was a baby.
“Hey, Claire!” Big Fish waved his arms, as though he were landing planes on an aircraft carrier. “Claire!”
And before Thumps could stop him, Big Fish jogged off across the field.
Lorraine shaded her eyes. “That Claire’s new boyfriend?”
“No idea.”
“Is that a baby?”
“Looks like it.”
Suddenly, Lorraine was crying. “Shit.”
“You okay?”
“Look at me.” Lorraine was fighting hiccups between the sobs. “Do I fucking look okay?”
Thumps could feel his flight response kick in. “You look great.”
Big Fish was back on the run, dragging Claire with him. “Hey, you okay?”
Lorraine wiped her eyes. “Hi, Claire.”
“Lorraine.”
“Is that a baby?”
“It is.” Claire pulled the blanket away from the child’s face.
“Wow,” said Big Fish. “It is a baby.”
Lorraine rolled her eyes. “Duh.”
“Well, it is.”
The man with Claire was all smiles. “Is this your partner?”
“It is.” Claire stepped across the void and took Thumps’s hand. “Honey, this is Melton Cobell.”
“Been looking forward to meeting you,” said Melton.
Claire handed Thumps the baby. “And this is the little girl I’ve been telling you about.”
Thumps wasn’t sure what exactly he was supposed to say. Or do.
“Ivory,” said Claire. “Melton’s niece.”
“Claire’s told me all about you,” said Melton.
Thumps gestured toward Big Fish and Lorraine. “These are friends. Lorraine Chubby and Patek Carpenaux.”
“Like the watch,” said Melton.
“Exactly like the watch,” said Big Fish.
“Looks like you’re going to have a baby of your own,” said Melton.
“Not soon enough,” said Lorraine.
“Come on,” said Big Fish. “Let’s at least take a look at the wagon. We don’t have to buy, but you don’t want to have any regrets.”
Lorraine put her hand in the small of her back and began moving toward the cars. “It’s going to be interesting,” she said, “raising two kids without a father.”
The baby wiggled in Thumps’s arms. Claire squeezed his hand in a way that let him know he was to keep his mouth shut. But he had already figured that part out.
“So, you’re a photographer,” said Melton.
“He is,” said Claire.
“How long have you and Claire been together?”
“Three years,” said Claire.
“I’m not married,” said Melton. “Maybe someday.”
“Nothing like it.” Claire took the baby back and began rocking her. “She is so beautiful.”
“You guys know what you’re doing,” said Melton. “I can see that.”
Claire beamed. “This weekend still good?”
Melton nodded. “I’ll bring Ivory by Friday morning.” He gathered the baby into his arms and stuck out a hand. “Good to finally meet you, Mr. DreadfulWater.”
THUMPS WAITED UNTIL Melton was out of hearing. “Nice guy.”
“No.”
“Confused?”
“Nope.”
“You should be.”
“Okay,” said Thumps, “maybe a little.”
“Thumps!” Big Fish was standing at the edge of the crowd, shouting and waving his arms. “Thumps!”
Lorraine was doubled over.
“She was okay,” said Big Fish, his voice shaking, “and then this happened.”
“It’s just these crazy contractions.” Lorraine gritted her teeth. “It’s not labour.”
“How come your jeans are all wet?”
Lorraine held up a hand. “I’ll just lie down in the grass for a moment.”
Claire turned on Big Fish. “I think we should get her to the hospital.”
Big Fish looked like an animal caught in headlights. “Okay.”
“Now!” said Claire.
“I’ll get the car.” Big Fish turned around in a circle.
“We don’t have the car.” Lorraine’s face was a grimace.
“Right,” said Big Fish. “The motorcycle.”
Claire snorted. “You brought a pregnant woman here on a motorcycle?”
“It’s got a sidecar.”
THUMPS LOADED LORRAINE and Claire into the back of the Element. Big Fish raced off on the motorcycle to alert the hospital in case they had never had a pregnant woman come in on the fly.
“If he gets himself hurt on that thing,” Lorraine shouted between contractions, “I’ll kill him.”
“Drive carefully,” said Claire. “Try to miss the bumps.”
Lorraine began making noises that reminded Thumps of a soundtrack from a horror movie.
“Okay,” said Claire. “Forget about the bumps.”
Big Fish was waiting at the emergency entrance with a wheelchair. “What took you so long?”
Hospitals, to Thumps’s way of thinking, were one step above morgues. They were livelier and better lighted. Some areas even had chairs and magazines and music. But the smells were just as alarming as the ones in Beth’s basement, and you could hear the fear and the depression and the hopelessness in the voices that escaped the rooms and filled the corridors.
“Can you guys stick around for a bit?” Big Fish looked as though he was getting ready to run a sprint. “I got to do the paperwork, and I want to be with Lorraine.”
“Sure,” said Thumps. “We’ll stay in case something happens.”
“Like what?”
Claire groaned. “What he means is we’ll be here in case you need us to do something.”
“Sure,” said Thumps. “Like get you coffee or something to eat.”
“Cigars,” said Big Fish. “I’m supposed to pass out cigars.”
Claire turned to Thumps. “You need to talk to him.”
“About what?”
“I’m going to get us a sandwich,” said Claire. “It could be a long night.”
“We’re going to stay until Lorraine gives birth?”
“You got something better to do?”
“That would be great,” said Big Fish. “I really appreciate you guys being here.”
THUMPS FOUND A CHAIR. Big Fish walked up and down the corridor, the nervous energy bubbling out of the man.
“You ever think about having kids?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll bet you’d be a great father,” said Big Fish. “I’m not so sure about me.”
The magazine selection was limited. A copy of People that was almost a year old, a Sports Illustrated, and a Better Homes and Gardens.
“I mean, where do you learn to be a father? It just happens and there you are.”
Thumps opened the Sports Illustrated. There was an article on how Eddie Lacy received a cash bonus for weighing less than 250 pounds.
“What if my kid doesn’t like me?”
“Your kid will love you.”
Big Fish stood in the middle of the corridor and bounced on the balls of his feet. “You think so?”
Thumps turned to an article on Richard Sherman and the Seattle Seahawks. “Absolutely.”
“Oh, hey,” said Big Fish, and he dropped into the chair next to Thumps. “I almost forgot.”
The article was about how Sherman had not requested a trade.
“The watch you gave me?”
Thumps put the magazine down.
“No good news, I’m afraid.” Big Fish took the watch out of his pocket. “It’s a Rockford 905, all right. Montgomery dial. Twenty-three jewel movement. Railroad quality. I know when it was made and where, but there aren’t any repair records and no sales records that Binh could find.”
Thumps sighed. “Thanks anyway.”
“If we knew who Ray or Anna was,” said Big Fish, “that might help.”
“What?”
“The inscription.”
“What inscription?”
“Under the dust cover.” Big Fish took out a small penknife and slipped the blade into the side of the watch and popped the back off. “See?”
On the back of the cover was a simple inscription. “For Ray, with love, Anna.”
“Is that any help?”
“Mr. Carpenaux?” The nurse was a large, sturdy woman. “Your wife has gone into labour. She’d like you to be with her for the birth.”
“Me?”
The nurse looked at the chart. “You’re Mr. Carpenaux?”
“He is,” said Thumps.
“What do I do?” said Big Fish.
The nurse smiled. “You stand next to your wife and tell her how great she’s doing.”
“I can do that.”
“And try not to get upset or pass out.”
Big Fish turned back to Thumps. “Really appreciate you doing this,” he said. “And I’m sorry about the watch.”
Nineteen
Claire returned with two ham and cheese sandwiches and two cups of coffee.
“Where’s Big Fish?”
“Lorraine’s gone into labour.”
“Big Fish with her?”
“He is.”
“That should be interesting.” Claire pushed the magazines to one side and put the food on the table. “Pocket watch?”
“Yeah.”
“When did you start carrying a pocket watch?”
“I don’t.” Thumps slipped the watch into his pocket. “I’m holding it for Big Fish.”
Claire unwrapped the first sandwich and handed Thumps the larger half. “So, here’s dinner.”
“Did you get an appetizer?”
“No wine, either,” said Claire. “Think of this as a poor man’s picnic.”
“In a hospital?”
“It is a little creepy.”
“I hear that your friend is from Canada.”
“Melton Cobell.” Claire nodded. “Blackfeet from Standoff. He works as a water consultant for the province.”
“Seems like a nice guy.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” said Claire.
“Okay.”
“Angie Black Weasel introduced us. Melton has a sister. Ellen. She married a guy out of Edmonton. Ivory’s her daughter.”
“Cute baby.”
“She is,” said Claire. “Ellen and her husband were killed in a car crash. Ivory survived.”
“Hell.”
“Melton is her only family,” said Claire. “He’s looking after her right now, but he doesn’t think he can take on the task of raising a child.”
Now Thumps could see where this was going. “So, he’s looking to find an open adoption for his niece.”
“He is.”
“To a Blackfeet family?”
“He’s mentioned it.”
“And you want to adopt Ivory.”
“I do,” said Claire.
“And Melton wants a regular family. Mom and dad. Dog. Fenced yard.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“But you don’t want to take the chance?”
“No,” said Claire. “I don’t.”
Claire sat in the chair and stared at the floor. “You don’t have to do anything.”
“He know I’m not Blackfeet?”
“You’re not angry?”
“For what?”
“Using you.”
“Would have been nice if you had asked.”
“Would you have said yes?”
“So, Melton is bringing the baby by on Friday,” said Thumps. “That means you have her for the weekend?”
“Melton has to go to Spokane,” said Claire. “I told him I’d look after Ivory.”
“Get to know her.”
“Let her get to know me.”
“Then why don’t we do that?” Thumps leaned back. “You and me and Ivory.”
“The three of us?”
“See how it goes.”
FIVE HOURS LATER, Thumps was still awake and trying to find a comfortable position in the chair. Claire was asleep with her head on his shoulder. He didn’t see the doors at the end of the corridor fly open, but he heard Big Fish.
As did the rest of the hospital.
“A boy!” Big Fish shouted. “It’s a boy.”
Thumps pushed out of the chair, slow and stiff. “Congratulations.”
“You won’t believe how small he is.” Big Fish was quivering with excitement. “I got to hold him.”
“That’s wonderful,” said Claire. “And he’s healthy?”
“Shit,” said Big Fish. “I didn’t ask. I’ll go back and ask.”
“He’s healthy,” said Claire.
“But he’s so small,” said Big Fish. “Only nine pounds.”
Claire made a sound like a hammer hitting a nail. “You have a name yet?”
Big Fish shook his head. “Lorraine is pretty pissed with me right now. Probably better to wait until she calms down.”
Thumps tried to stop the smile. “What’d you do?”
“Got her pregnant,” said Big Fish. “Would you believe it? She blames me for that.” Big Fish picked up the second sandwich. “This for me?”
“Absolutely,” said Claire. “You’re going to need all the energy you can get.”
Big Fish ripped the plastic off the sandwich. “You should hear the lungs on the kid. He’s going to be a singer. I can tell.”
Thumps handed him the second cup of coffee.
Big Fish took two gulps and handed the cup back. “Gotta go,” he said. “They’re getting Little Fish cleaned up and then I get to hold him some more.”