Death at the Black Bull

by Frank Hayes

  * * *

  Hours later, a flash of heat lightning illuminated the room and revealed Virgil uncovered, still lying motionless. He stirred, still wrapped in an erotic dream he was reluctant to leave. Finally, he dropped his legs over the side of the bed and came to a sitting position. He listened for signs of life in the house, but heard none. Feeling like he had just emerged from a coma, he rose to his feet and moved toward the bathroom. After he relieved himself, he threw cold water into his face to wash the last of the sleep away, then returned to the bedroom, got dressed, and headed downstairs. Darkness had begun to invade the house, so he flicked on the light in the kitchen. There was no sign of Cesar and he recalled some early-morning reference of his about being gone overnight. He knew he spent some time with a woman Virgil had never met.

  He opened the refrigerator and stood looking at nothing inside that appealed to him. He grabbed a slice of cheese, pulled off the cellophane wrapper, and ate it. Still unsatisfied, he glanced at the clock on the wall and saw it was going on nine. Margie’s would be closed by the time he got there, but he knew of another place that would be open late. He closed the fridge door, went and got his good boots, and went upstairs to change his shirt.

  The screen door slapped loudly in back of him as he left the house. He paused for just an instant on the front porch, listening to the night, then walked across the yard and got into his truck. At the end of the driveway, instead of turning right into town, he turned left and headed toward the Black Bull.

  17

  It was about nine thirty when he walked through the door of the Black Bull. The restaurant area was fairly empty, but the bar side was busy. Not bad for a weekday night, he thought. He took a seat at a small table on the restaurant side. A waitress brought him a menu, but when she told him the special was ribs, he just handed it back to her and asked for the special. While he was sitting over his beer, waiting for his meal to arrive, he looked over the crowd. There was no live music. The televisions in back of the bar were featuring baseball. There were a lot of familiar faces, but nobody had acknowledged his presence. He could make out a Rangers game on one set getting a loud reaction from the bar crowd as someone connected for a home run. The Black Bull itself was standing idly, waiting for the next guy who’d drunk enough courage to give him a go. Virgil scanned the place, looking for a certain someone, but came up empty. Finally, his gaze came to rest on the plate that had been put in front of him.

  Twenty minutes later, he sat back from his cleared plate. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was.

  “Guess you enjoyed it,” the waitress said with a smile. “Surprised you didn’t eat the plate.”

  “Yes, ma’am. That was as good as it looked.”

  “How about some dessert?”

  “A man should know his limitations. I’ll pass, but some black coffee would work.”

  “You got it.”

  He sat over two cups, replaying the day’s events in his head, the talk with Wade and Harry Stanton’s exit from a world that had paid him little notice. Virgil generally took things in stride, but for some reason Harry’s death had brought him to a dark place. Maybe it was the unexpectedness, or the fact that he had recently brushed up against his own mortality.

  “Anything else?”

  “No, thank you.”

  She gave him his tab. When she returned with his card, he signed then she turned to walk away.

  “Excuse me,” he said. “Is the owner here, by any chance?”

  “Upstairs.” She pointed to a door next to the door that led into the kitchen. Virgil thought that as long as he was here, he might as well see if he could verify some of the things that Wade had said. He crossed the room, opened the door, and climbed a flight of stairs. There was a short hallway that angled to the right, at the end of which was a doorway. A light showed from under the door. He knocked twice, then waited. He heard footsteps on the other side. When the door opened, Ruby was standing there.

  “Well hello, Sheriff. I wasn’t expecting to see you. What can I do for you?”

  “Actually, I was hoping I could see the owner.”

  “Oh, well, come on in.”

  Virgil stepped inside. When she closed the door, she lightly brushed him, and he could smell a certain fragrance. It was not an unpleasant sensation. She turned and he followed her past a desk in a small office that had a couple of filing cabinets against a wall. There was a computer on the desk and an opened folder holding a slew of what looked like delivery forms.

  “I was just entering some bills into the computer,” she said.

  She walked through a doorway which was opened at the other end of the office. When Virgil followed her, he stepped into a huge living area that encompassed a modern kitchen at the far end, separated from the rest of the room by a natural wooden bar that spanned almost the width of the room. At the opposite end of the room was a fireplace, which Virgil realized was a perfect match to the one downstairs and positioned in the middle of the wall, so they shared the same flue. Near the kitchen area was a large rustic harvest table, while the rest of the room was given over to comfortable-looking occasional chairs and end tables. Positioned in front of the fireplace was a large sofa covered in a Southwestern print that matched the fabric covering the chairs. Above the fireplace was the mounted head of a huge elk.

  “That’s some trophy,” Virgil said.

  “I prefer living animals, but it wasn’t my call. In any event, he is magnificent.”

  Ruby gestured toward one end of the sofa. Virgil sat down and looked around the room.

  “Will he be long?” he asked.

  “Who?”

  “The owner.”

  “Sheriff, I am the owner.”

  “But I thought you were just a waitress.”

  “Just a waitress? Sheriff, I’ll do you a favor. I won’t repeat that comment to the waitstaff downstairs. That way when you leave, your car won’t be sitting on four flat tires.”

  “I’m sorry . . . I didn’t mean . . .”

  The smile that crossed Ruby’s lips showed she was enjoying Virgil’s discomfort.

  “It’s all right,” she said. “I was just teasing.”

  “It’s just that I thought when this place was redone some years back . . . I mean, I thought I’d heard that somebody from back East had bought it and then I guess he died and I figured some other fella took it over.”

  “That man that did the expansion. He was my father. This was his dream. He was in love with his idea of the West. I think he overdosed on John Wayne and Randolph Scott when he was a kid. His favorite movie was Shane. I must have seen it a dozen times over the years. I could recite the dialogue verbatim. Anyhow, he bought the place on a whim with the idea of turning it into what it’s become today. But he never lived to see it done. I was working in New York when he died. My mother wanted no part of it. It wasn’t her dream. By that time I was looking for something different. I felt bad that after all he put into it, it was just going to be tossed away like he was never here, to some random buyer. So I decided to try something new. In a way, I guess I was trying to keep his dream alive. Probably doesn’t make much sense to you.”

  “No. It makes perfect sense. I mean, a person walks the earth. He leaves a mark. His life should mean something.” Virgil looked up at the elk. “Every time, you look at him”—he gestured toward the mounted head—“you can imagine what he must have been. The life he had, the battles he fought. You can see it in his eyes and you take note. A man, any man, should have at least that . . . that the people he leaves behind remember and take note.”

  Virgil looked away for a second, the last image of Harry Stanton suddenly popping into his mind.

  “Maybe that’s why I talk to him when I’m here alone,” she said, smiling. “So, Sheriff, what can I do for you?”

  “Well, you can start by calling me Virgil. I’m not always on duty.”r />
  “So this is a social call?”

  “Well, I did want to ask you something, but it could wait for another time if you’re busy. Actually, when I came in to eat downstairs, after I’d finished I was sitting at the table and looking around for a friendly face, but the face I was looking for wasn’t there.”

  “Did you ever find it?”

  “Yes, when I knocked on that door.”

  “I’m glad, Virgil.”

  She leaned across the sofa and touched his cheek. Then she turned his head slightly and traced the half-moon line of his scar from beginning to end.

  “When I saw you in the hospital,” she said, “I didn’t know about this. I wish you’d have told me. I would have been there, because I think I’ve been looking for a friendly face also.”

  He looked into her eyes and saw the warmth there. He was mesmerized by her touch.

  “It’s been a long time for me,” he said. “I mean, I just want you to know . . .”

  She moved her finger to his lips and smiled. “Once you’ve ridden a bike, Virgil, you don’t forget.”

  He reached across the sofa and drew her close. Her scent filled him, his lips found hers, and the touch of her lifted him up from that dark place.

  * * *

  He left the bathroom, heading back to the bed when the silver light streaming through the window stopped him. The moon was starting its descent in the western sky. The world was a silhouette. The rolling terrain black against the gray. He glanced at the still figure wrapped in a tangle of sheets, one smooth leg exposed, the mass of dark hair against the pillow caught in that silver light from the window. For the first time in a long time, Virgil felt a connectedness that had been missing from his life.

  He glanced once more at the outline of the ridge in the distance, the same ridge that had reluctantly given up the terrible secret. He knew that deep down, as much as that had become a focus for him, it was not his whole life. Then he slipped under the sheet alongside Ruby, reached out, and felt her stir beneath his touch.

  * * *

  Virgil reached his hand out to empty space, opened one eye, and saw that he was alone. The imprint of her head on the pillow confirmed that it hadn’t been a dream. Then he smelled the bacon and sat up. Before he could get his bearings, she ran into the room and leaped into the bed. She pushed him down and gave him a long, soulful kiss. When she felt him stirring beneath her, she rolled over and sat up.

  “There’s time for that after breakfast. Come on.”

  “You know what you said about the bicycle? I haven’t forgotten.”

  “I was aware of that several times last night. Come on, we need to keep our strength up.”

  Reluctantly, Virgil slipped on his shorts then followed her out to the kitchen. He sat at the long bar while she brought the breakfast. Then they attacked it with a ferocity that they later laughed about.

  “I can’t think of a better way to work up an appetite,” he said as he sat over his second cup of coffee.

  She reached her hand across and covered his.

  “Is that the right time?” he said, looking at her watch.

  “Pretty close.”

  “I better check in before they send out the bloodhounds.”

  “Are you really that crucial?” she teased while he punched in the number to the office.

  “Ma’am, I’m the last line of defense between survival and Armageddon.”

  He winked as he waited for Rosie.

  “I know what time it is,” he said into the phone. “I got hung up. And yes, I know I’m not there. That’s why I’m calling. Are you okay? You know what I mean.” He paused. “Sure, I know. I just wanted to make sure . . . I mean in case you have to reach me. God! Now I know why Dave likes to stay at Redbud. Yeah, I know you and he have quality time when he’s home.”

  Ruby sat quietly listening to the conversation. At last, he folded the phone and put it away.

  “What were you saying about the last line of defense? Armageddon? It sounds like the world is still turning without you.”

  “Yeah, seems like I’m a legend only in my own mind.”

  “Who was that, anyway?”

  “I guess you’d call her the power behind the throne. At least that’s what she thinks. Her name is Rosita. Rosie when she’s acting human.”

  “Sounds like you guys have a dynamic relationship.”

  “Dynamic, good word. I guess that pretty well describes it.”

  “By the way, what were the questions? Or was that just a ploy to get in my pants?”

  “The questions . . .”

  “Last night, you said you had some questions for me.”

  “Oh. They were about Buddy. Buddy Hinton. I heard you went to his funeral.”

  “Yes. I saw your friend from the hospital there.”

  “That’s Jimmy Tillman, my deputy. He saw you and I just thought it kind of odd. I mean, you being there, but that’s when I thought you were a waitress.”

  “I’m glad you left out the just.”

  “I won’t make that mistake again.”

  “Buddy was pretty much of a regular. A real nice guy. Came in, had a good time, didn’t give anybody grief. The kind of customer you wish all your customers were like in this business. Then, because of the way he died, the circumstances, well, I felt like I wanted to go. That’s why I was there.”

  “Do you remember anything special about that last night? When he was here?”

  “Like what?”

  “Anything different. An argument, any kind of a mix-up involving him or his friend Wade?”

  “You mean Wade Travis? The auto repair guy that’s into racing?”

  “Yes, anything that night you can remember.”

  Ruby sat back in her chair. “That was a pretty crazy night, as I remember. Whenever it’s payday at Hayward, the place is packed. We even cash payroll checks for a lot of them. But I can’t say that night was unusual. Nothing sticks out much. Much as I liked Buddy I wasn’t crazy about Wade.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “A couple of things. He thinks he’s God’s gift for one thing. Kind of arrogant, looking for special treatment . . . thinks he’s a player. Not like Buddy at all. But I’m sorry, I just can’t remember any incident. I mean they were often together. They probably were that night.”

  “What about other people? Anybody stand out? Maybe someone new?”

  “No. Sorry, Virgil, like I said, it was just so busy.”

  “Yeah, I understand.”

  “I don’t know if it would help you, but you’re welcome to watch the video.”

  “The video? What do you mean?”

  “Virgil, this is the twenty-first century. We’ve got video, inside and out. That was one of the first things I did when I came here. In this business, it’s particularly necessary. I’ve even got you forgetting to duck, if you’re interested.”

  “No, I’ll pass on that. But you have video of that night inside and the parking lot? What about out back?”

  “No, not the back. Sorry, I just never thought that would be necessary. Guess I was wrong.”

  “Could you get it for me?”

  “Sure. It will take a little while. It’s downstairs with the other discs. I’ll have to locate it.”

  “Great. I’ll look at it when I come back tonight.”

  “You’re coming back?”

  “What did you think, this was a hit-and-run?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “What’s the matter?” he said.

  “Maybe we’re moving a little too fast. I mean, remember what you said last night. It’s been a long time for you. Well, this isn’t typical for me, either. I mean, I’m not denying the chemistry, but beyond that . . . I mean, we hardly know each other.”

  Virgil reached his hand across the tabl
e and covered her hand with his.

  “You’re absolutely right. I don’t want to rush this. How about I come back tonight and we just have dinner together and talk. If you can get that disc, I’ll take it with me. Then next weekend we’ll build in some time together. I don’t want you to think I’m one of those pickup cowboys, so this will be a chance to show you. But I gotta admit, it’s pretty hard to get the horse back in the barn after the door’s been opened.”

  “That all sounds good,” she said, “but I’m a little worried about that open door, too.”

  * * *

  Instead of going to the office, he decided to stop off at the ranch first. He saw Pedro in the barn putting the horses in their stalls. The sun was already pretty high and the heat was starting to build. He waved to him, went into the house, and came back out a half hour later having showered and changed.

  “Pete, where’s Cesar and José?”

  “Up in high country working on a well pump.”

  “I’ll probably be back late this afternoon. Tell Cesar.”

  “Okay.”

  He was almost in the cruiser when Pedro waved to him. “What is it, Pete?”

  “I forget. Someone came looking for you . . . Funny name . . . I think he say Billy Three Hats. He say he stop by office later.”

  “Thanks.” Virgil gave a wave and started the cruiser toward the county road. His mind was on the videos and what if anything they might tell him, but whatever Billy Three Hats wanted he knew just might take precedence over anything else on his plate.