Rasp Meadow Crossing

by Kieran York

  Royce, Tanner, and a few of Tanner’s new friends cheered. Finally, as the parade ended, Royce explained she needed to return to Timber.

  Walking back to her vehicle, Royce saw Gwen and Nadine. “I wasn’t sure you’d be here,” Nadine commented. “Quite a celebration. Not all the land was spared, but it will grow back.”

  Gwen rolled her eyes. “Not in our time,” she said glumly. Sarcastically, she added, “Or your time, Royce.”

  Nadine and Royce chuckled. “Well, it’s time to celebrate now. And be thankful,” Nadine insisted. “Gwen, I have an idea. When we get home why don’t you get the newspaper ready, and I’ll fix a nice meal. We can have our own little celebration.”

  “I’ve saved space on the front page,” Gwen grumbled. “And this is front page news.”

  “You can get it together in the time it takes me to make a wonderful dinner.” Nadine frowned at Gwen. “Stop being such an old curmudgeon. Let’s rejoice. The Town of Elk Ridge is standing. No one lost their life. The structures can be rebuilt.”

  “Royce, you want to come over after work?” Gwen invited.

  “Sure,” Royce agreed. Then she looked back at them both suspiciously. “Wait a minute. Who else have you invited?” she warily questioned.

  “Molly and Gran. But they have their card game tonight.”

  “And?” Royce’s eyes narrowed, nearly squinting.

  “Well, I mentioned it to Hertha. So maybe Hertha and the kids.”

  Royce swallowed. “I’d better finish the reports.”

  “Royce, stop it!” Gwen growled. “You can share a meal with her. It won’t hurt you.”

  “Right,” Royce’s inflection snapped. “Look, I’ll be tired and busy…”

  “Please,” Nadine implored. “For us?”

  “You two are setting me up. You’ve probably had this planned. Look, please don’t take offence, but I’d really rather not.”

  “Why?” Gwen sighed with exasperation.

  “Because it would encourage the kids to think I’m going to be in their lives,” Royce answered.

  “As your Gran would say – poppycock,” Gwen disputed sharply.

  Grimly Royce looked away. “I’ll let you know later. I’ve got things to do.”

  Gwen glared directly into Royce’s face. “Be there at six. My woman is cooking her special braised beef short ribs – one of your very favorite meals, and you’re not going to insult Nadine.”

  Nadine chimed in, “And my garlic mashed potatoes.”

  “Okay. Just don’t sit me next to Hertha,” the sheriff made her demands for a seating arrangement.

  Nadine teased. “We’ll sit you between the children. All the children together.”

  Gwen and Nadine snickered. Royce remained staunchly unmoved. “That was uncalled for,” she said through her teeth. “You two realized there isn’t anything between Hertha and me now. There never will be again.”

  “You’re both still in love with one another,” Gwen argued. “And you both know it.”

  Royce felt as if she might be escaping. “Come on, Chance.”

  Chance’s head drooped. The dog knew the sheriff was upset about something.

  ***

  Back at her office, Royce sorted the reports. Then she talked with Forensics, trying to get updates.

  Royce inquired, “Any word on the Timber City Jane Doe case?”

  The forensic lab technician replied, “No decision has been made. Sheriff Madison, this case is Ice Age cold. Over forty years.”

  “It’s one of the few cold cases in Timber City. Please try to convince the powers that be to give a murdered woman the respect of being named.”

  “This is important to you?”

  “Very important.” Royce thought of her father. Royce had been in college at the time of his death. She hadn’t been able to give him back much in her first nineteen years. He hadn’t seen her graduate from college, or from the police academy. He hadn’t seen her first badge pinned on her chest. “Maybe DNA will make all the difference. We might get a missing person hit.”

  “It would be possible, if the DNA samples we have aren’t deteriorated. But it’s a long shot.” There was a hesitation. “I’ll encourage the lab.”

  “Thank you.” Royce’s usual tone wasn’t condescending. It was nearly begging when she pleaded, “Please do whatever it takes.”

  ***

  Royce kept clothing at Molly’s apartment, above the Pantry. That way, if she wasn’t able to get back to Gran’s cabin, she could shower and dress at her old home. Although she kept mostly sports and casual clothing, she found a nice shirt and pants. After work she’d showered, dressed, and left for Gwen and Nadine’s home.

  Even when she was a child, Royce adored time spent with Gwen and Nadine at their century-old, elegant home. The white painted home had a gabled roof, bay windows, with fish-scale shingles. It embodied the heritage and tradition of the early settlers that came to the small town, and wished to gentrify it. Erudite men and women had visited Timber City, and decided to stay. Gathering in the wild west, the times weren’t easy, but they stayed on.

  Inside the women’s home there was oak flooring throughout. Gwen and Nadine kept the décor that represented the early days. Protecting the feel of the frontier west, all the interior was with authentic memorabilia. They planned for it to one day be gifted to the county as a museum.

  As she entered, she felt the love and warmth the home provided. Gwen was there, welcoming her with a long-necked bottle of iced beer. “Welcome, Sheriff,” Gwen commented as she took the serving pan Royce was extending.

  “A dessert from Molly,” Royce explained.

  “Mountain Peach Crisp!” Gwen exclaimed. “My very favorite. Thanks.”

  “Thank Mom. I didn’t have time to get wine. In fact, I’m a little late.”

  “Royce, it’s fine.” Gwen spoke with her most comforting voice. “Hertha’s out back with the kids. And of course Zane is playing too. Why don’t you take Chance outside so they can romp around? Get their energy spent.”

  Zane, Gwen and Nadine’s Irish setter, loved romping with Chance. As Royce led Chance to the backyard, she began to wish she hadn’t taken up the invitation. She felt discomfort immediately. When the door fanned open, Royce saw the children chasing around with an unknown dog. It was a schnauzer and Kerry blue terrier mix. The little dog immediately began roughhousing with the larger dogs. Its face had the same sweet expressions as Smoky’s face had. Royce felt the memories melting through her mind. Smoky, Royce and Hertha’s schnauzer, had died a year ago, when she was fifteen. Royce recalled the unhappiness as if it was happening again. That was after Hertha had moved away.

  Hertha approached. “Good evening, Sheriff.” Her voice was welcoming. She was dressed in a lemon-yellow short set. Her dark hair was gathered behind her neck. Her smile, the beams in her eyes, the flush of her face, nothing had changed. Even her intelligent expression of tenderness, and understanding hadn’t changed.

  Royce felt her spirit had been rearranged by the breakup. When Hertha left her, she felt as though a part of her soul had turned to hardened stone. She wondered if the vet looked at her and saw a gravel pit within the sheriff’s spirit.

  “A very cute dog,” Royce commented.

  “He came into our home a few months ago. The kids named him Louie. Someone dumped him on the side of the road. The man who found him brought him to the small clinic I was running. He’s probably not over a year old now.”

  “I can never imagine people leaving dogs behind to fend for themselves in the wild.” Royce felt uneasy. She searched to find something to say that would continue the conversation. “I’ll bet the kids love him.”

  “They do. We also have an older cat named Cleo. Well, we called her Princess Cleopatra. Cleo is the dominant one. So much so, that we’ve also called her Princess PITA.” Hertha laughed. It was the same laugh, sounding like chimes that had blended with joy. “PITA is the acronym for ‘pain in the — ’, you know. Louie fen
ds for himself. However, it is always with Cleo’s assistance and approval.” There was silence for several moments. “I’m sorry if this is making you uneasy, Royce.”

  Royce gazed ahead. “What makes you think I’m uneasy?”

  “We lived together for fifteen years. I know when you’re uncomfortable.” She leaned down to scratch the ruff of Chance’s neck. “Aren’t you a lovely girl?”

  “She’s one of Timber County’s best deputies.”

  Seven-year old Shavano giggled. “Is your dog really a deputy?”

  Royce smiled. “Yep. She’s been deputized. She’s an official K-9 deputy. Deputy Chance.”

  Antero gave a skeptical stare. “Not really.”

  “Really” Royce replied.

  “Mom, is the sheriff’s dog a deputy?”

  Hertha answered, “She is. Remember that time when we were here? When you got lost? Chance found you.”

  His brown eyes gleamed with remembrance. He then went down to his knees and hugged Chance. “You saved my life, Chance.”

  Hertha corrected, “Chance and the sheriff saved you.”

  “Thanks, Sheriff,” he spoke with appreciation. “I’m glad you didn’t let me fall.”

  “Why don’t you call me Royce,” Royce requested.

  “Because Mom said I should call people things like sheriff or doctor or mister or missus instead of a name.”

  “Maybe your mother would give you dispensation…” she broke when she saw Antero frown, questioning the word’s meaning. “Give you permission to call me Royce.”

  Hertha nodded affirmatively. “Looks like I’m outnumbered.”

  “Dinner’s ready,” Nadine called.

  When Royce looked up, she saw Hertha staring at her. Quickly, Hertha glanced away.

  Throughout the meal, Royce felt as though she was on first date behavior. Yet, the veterinarian wasn’t putting any kind of pressure on her. In fact, although her words were warm, Hertha hadn’t traded eye contact with her.

  When dinner was finished, the women sat around with Irish coffee and chatted. The children played with puzzles.

  Royce felt that the atmosphere was strained. But even if she could have done anything to make it friendlier, she wouldn’t have. When Royce stood to leave, Hertha gathered the children and Louie. “We need to go, too.”

  Outside, on the walkway, Royce said, “I’ll see you to your cottage.”

  “I’d appreciate that, Royce. Since there’s a killer loose, I tend to be a little more cautious.”

  The women and children left together, walking in silence across the street. They passed by the animal hospital and strolled the path to the cottage. When they reached the door, Hertha said, “Thanks for walking us home. It was good seeing you again, Royce.”

  “You too. And good to see the kids. They’ve really grown.”

  Hertha’s eyes reflected sorrow. Royce recalled that look when Hertha felt hopeless. When she couldn’t save a family pet - that was the expression on her face.

  Walking the path, Royce recalled the hundreds of times she had made the trip. So many times, when it was with Hertha. Times when Royce felt that everything in her life was aligning. Life had made her the most fortunate human being to ever live. Even when she was alone, she was thinking of returning home. Home to Hertha. Home to the comfort of the woman she loved. Now she felt forlorn. Lost. It was as if she knew she would never again know the warmth of home with any woman she loved.

  Chapter 9

  After the morning meeting, the deputies disbursed. Royce headed across the street to see Molly. Entering Molly’s Pantry, she inhaled the fragrance of freshly baked breads. The perfume of two breads always vied for attention. Molly’s lemon nut bread and her banana bread were dueling. She gave Molly a hug. “Gosh, Mom, I’m trying to select lemon or banana.”

  “A lemon nut bread just came out of the oven. Still a little warm, but cool enough to slice you some.” While Royce poured their traditional cups of coffee, Molly plated the bread. “I got a little jar of lemon custard if you’d like it topped off.”

  “This is fine.”

  “How did the dinner go last evening?” Molly tilted her body toward her daughter.

  “Enjoyable. Hertha said she’s trying to get the kids tamed. But they seem pretty well-behaved to me. I told Gran about some of the things they said. She got a kick out of it. Shavano, Vannie, she’s very bright, and precocious. Antero is a quiet kid. Hertha has a new dog and cat. The kids named them Louie and Cleo. I haven’t seen the kitty yet, but Louie is cute. Gets along well with Zane and Chance.”

  Molly took a sip of coffee. As if she awaited more information from Royce, she stirred the remaining coffee for the second time. “Gwen said it was a nice evening.”

  “Yes.” Royce’s smile wavered.

  “You walked them home?”

  “Mom, I only did that to make certain they were safe. We’re in the middle of a murder investigation, which means there could be a killer on the streets.”

  “Well, it was nice of you.” She paused. “Hertha looks well. She’s such a beautiful woman.”

  “I thought she looked tired.” Royce didn’t elaborate. But to her Hertha was always a beauty - throughout her being she was lovely.

  “She’s had the move here to Timber. Getting back into harness with the animal clinic. Getting the children settled in. It’s been an ordeal for her. And she’s alone.”

  “She’s alone because she got me, then didn’t want me. Then she got the professor, and didn’t want her. So she’s alone.” Royce felt the color rising in her cheeks.

  Molly slapped the towel on the countertop. “For goodness sakes! And the name is Ingrid. She turned out to be terrible with the kids.”

  “Ingrid?”

  “The professor.”

  Royce sighed. “Hertha called her the professor. If I did hear her name, I probably forgot it. And I’m sure I would have turned out to be terrible with the kids too.”

  “No you wouldn’t have,” Molly raised her voice. “You’re too much like your father. You’ve got a nice way with children just like he did. Yes, I’m good with little ones, and I love them. But your daddy charmed everyone. He was a quiet man, but people trusted him right off the bat. Just like they trust you.”

  In silence Royce cleared the plates and cups. She then walked to the door. “I’ve got a busy day.”

  She closed the door behind her. She heard her mother give a slight moan, and then Molly yelled after her, “And you’re also stubborn just like he was.”

  Royce slipped a dog biscuit toward Chance’s muzzle. She murmured, “The chat with Mom didn’t go especially great.” She placed a butterscotch candy in her mouth. She then wadded up the candy wrapper. She pitched it into the decorative whiskey barrel that served as a trash receptacle.

  Nothing was going especially great.

  ***

  Royce tried to do her rounds at least once in the morning and once in the afternoon. Although it probably didn’t matter to the residents of Timber County, Royce’s father had believed that making a tour of the main area gave the people confidence that the law was watching out for them.

  As the sheriff and Chance ambled the sidewalk, Royce thought about how the world had changed. Perhaps it was more difficult to keep the citizens secure. But she wanted to try – in the only way she knew. Walking past the Wagner Gun Shop, she noticed that they were open. Glancing down at her watch, she wondered where the time went. They were right on time.

  “At ease, Chance,” she gave the command for the German shepherd to sit and wait for her to return.

  “You’re in early, Sheriff,” Emma said as she looked up.

  “I didn’t hear the door buzzer that usually goes off when a customer enters. Must be broken.”

  Royce made a note that the door buzzer might have been broken by the perpetrator. So that Calvin wouldn’t be alerted to the killer’s entry. Since there were no surveillance tapes, there was probably no way to check. It did point out that i
t probably wasn’t an armed robbery. Nor was it spur of the moment.

  “I don’t mean to bother you,” Royce commented as she looked around the back office. It had been scrubbed clean. “I just wanted to reassure you that we’re doing everything we can to solve your father’s murder.”

  “I hope it’s soon. It never bothered me to be in here alone in the morning. My mother will be here soon. She had a call from Tony, so I left the house without her.”

  “Do Tony and your mother get along?”

  Emma snorted as her chuckle withdrew from the gale of laughter. “No one in this family gets along. Remember? Have a seat, Sheriff.”

  “That’s sad,” Royce commented as she sat across the desk from Emma. She hoped that Emma would continue.

  Finally, Emma uttered, “My mother and I probably get along better than the others do. My dad belittled both Tony and me. Tony less because he was the boy in the family. Our mother probably had the biggest dislike for our father.”

  “Divorce is seldom happy.”

  Her eyebrows lifted as she looked into Royce’s face. “My divorce wasn’t exactly a picnic, but there wasn’t the intensity between us. There’s always been animosity between my parents. He’s dead, murdered. My mother still hates him.”

  “She said so?”

  “Not in words. She just makes snide remarks. She even hates him for getting murdered on her precious antique desk. Yesterday she looked at these stains on the desk.” Emily rubbed over the massive red-brown stain where her father had bled out. “The stains dried out and seeped into the wood. She had worked on trying to buff them out. And sand them out. The staining was too deep. She was angry at him for leaving the mess behind for her to clean. She was also livid about having to plug the bullet hole with wood putty. She complained about him ruining the antique desk. She disliked him, maybe hated him, more than Tony and I did.”

  Royce put her hand up on her forehead. She rubbed it for a moment attempting to get a grasp of what happens when parenting is wrong. “It’s unfortunate that there was so much disharmony.”