2 Fog Over Finny's Nose

by Dana Mentink

  Monk looked at her with an exquisitely gentle expression in his gray eyes. “Cootchie was the instrument. God showed you that you were not meant to waste all the amazing gifts you’ve been given.”

  She stared at him. “There is absolutely nothing amazing about me. I have ruined the one amazing thing in my life.”

  “It’s going to be difficult, to overcome this. But you will, because it isn’t right to waste those gifts any more now than it was then. You’re too young for that. God has given you strength because He knows you will use it to His glory.”

  Ruth continued to stare at him.

  He sighed, “Or as my father says, life is hard, but it beats the alternative.”

  She began to laugh.

  It was midnight before they got up from the table. She talked until there were no words or tears left. He listened to it all, commenting occasionally but mostly just nodding. He helped her up from the table and walked with her to the pellet stove to warm themselves against the evening chill.

  She awakened an hour later, snuggled up against his wide back. She knew the morning would bring back the horrible trauma. But for now, she relished the warmth against her cheek and the quiet snoring that enclosed her in a comforting basket of sound.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The police station door crashed open early Friday morning. Jack watched from his office, a phone pressed to his ear, as Alva and Hector Rodriquez, the Coastal Comet, careened in. Mary looked up from her paperwork and walked to the front counter.

  “What’s up?” she asked with a suspicious look at Alva’s companion.

  “Me and Hector was up nose, lookin’ for clues. To help find Cootchie,” the old man said, breathing hard. “Hector wanted to be a private eye before he went into the acrobat business.”

  Hector smiled, his silver front tooth winking in the overhead lights.

  “Alva,” Mary began.

  “Don’t worry; we didn’t mess up any police scenes or anything.”

  Hector nodded.

  “Alva, I guess you didn’t hear. We’ve already—”

  “We found something,” he continued. “It’s a clue.” With that, he heaved the mass onto the counter with a terrible crash.

  Jack almost dropped the phone.

  Mary shot backward in surprise. Her sudden movement knocked over the nearly empty watercooler, causing her to skid to the tile floor behind the counter. He hung up and went to assist.

  Alva forged ahead. “We found it about half a mile from the top of the nose. It’s a clue for sure. First that toe shows up without a foot, and now we come upon this. Don’t that seem like a pattern or something?” His watery eyes grew to Oreo size. “I know it was that gang. I seem ’em with my own eyes skulking around up there.”

  From behind the counter, Jack heard words and water begin to flow as he headed into the front office.

  “Would you just shut up for a minute, Alva?” Mary continued grunting as she tried to regain her footing, water soaking into her pants.

  Jack took his eyes off the mayhem to see Hugh push through the door. “Hey, Alva. I heard they found Cootchie. Did you. . .” He caught sight of the mass on the counter. “Oh man.”

  “It’s a clue.” Alva nodded. “What do you mean they found her? Is she okay?”

  “Yes, she’s fine,” Jack said, trying to grab Mary’s slippery wrist.

  “I came here to get the word firsthand,” Hugh said. “It didn’t seem right to go bother Dimple about it just now. Why is there water pouring all over the floor? You got a broken pipe or something?”

  “It’s not a broken pipe.” Mary’s voice came from behind the counter as Jack tried to help her up.

  “Who said that?” Hugh asked.

  “The gal on the floor,” Alva said. “Who you figure took the little girl, Jack? Maybe they was fixin’ to get some ransom.” His shaggy white eyebrows flew upwards. “Maybe one of them gangsters. What do you figure?”

  “I don’t know, but we’ll find out,” Jack said.

  Nathan walked out of the back office and slipped on the growing lake of drinking water. He grabbed hold of the counter to steady himself and, in doing so, knocked a file tray full of papers, a half empty coffee cup, and the business end of Mary’s phone onto the floor with a crash.

  As he clung to the counter, he asked, “Mary, what are you doing on the floor?”

  She finally succeeded in grasping the counter and hauling herself to her knees with Jack’s help. Only her head showed above the Formica. “I’m just having my nails done, Nate. What does it look like?”

  “Okeydokey,” he said. “Hey, Alva. Did you hear we found Cootchie up the coast? She’s not hurt or anything.”

  The old man’s face wreathed in a wrinkly grin. “Well, that’s just fine, ain’t it?”

  “Do they know who took her yet?” Hugh asked.

  “Not yet, but we’ll get him.”

  Hugh nodded. “Did Cootchie give you any details about the kidnapper?”

  “We’re still sorting through all that,” Nate said.

  Jack’s heart sank as Maude slammed the door open and squelched into the room. She whisked her knit cap off her head. “What is all this water on the floor?”

  “They got a broken pipe or something,” Alva piped up.

  “It’s not a broken pipe!” Mary yelled over the top of the counter.

  “Well,” Maude said in a tone of profound disgust, “if this isn’t the most unprofessional police force I’ve ever seen. I just came to verify that Cootchie Dent is safe and sound—if it isn’t too much to ask. Is that information accurate?”

  All four people in the damp waiting room shouted in unison. “Yes!”

  “Fine then. I’ll just be on my way.” She whirled on her heel and marched to the door, talking over her shoulder. “Would anyone like to explain why there is a bear trap dripping gore all over the reception desk?”

  No one had an answer.

  Jack was halfway done with yet another check up nose when his cell phone rang.

  “Hey, Jack.”

  “Nate, is that mess all taken care of?” He didn’t want any more visitors walking into the police station to find water on the floor and bloody animal traps on the counter.

  “Clean as a whistle. Say, if you’re not in the middle of something, I think you’d better meet me. I’m at Vern’s place.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Uh, well, you’d better come see for yourself. Now, would be good.”

  “I’m on my way. Do you need backup?”

  “Nah. Just you should do it.”

  “Okay.” He shoved the paperwork into his car and climbed in. “Be there in five.”

  “Make it four.”

  Jack sped along the winding frontage road as it bumped and twisted its way to Vern Rosario’s ranch. He couldn’t imagine a situation that Nate couldn’t handle with his unique combination of brawn and humor.

  When Jack reached the gravel driveway, he saw the amber lights of Nate’s cruiser. The big man stood, thumbs tucked into his belt, talking to someone perched on a rock underneath a spreading walnut tree. The figure looked familiar.

  “What’s going on, Nate?” Jack caught sight of two interesting details simultaneously. The figure poised on the rock was Bobby Walker, and a denim-clad leg ending in a heavy leather work boot was hanging out of the tree.

  Officer Katz stepped away from the tree and spoke to Jack, keeping his peripheral vision on Bobby and the dangling leg. “It appears to me,” he said, the corners of his mustache fighting against a smile, “that this little woman treed Vern Rosario.”

  He stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

  Still smiling, Nate continued. “Ms. Walker was out for a long hike and happened upon a Mr. Rosario putting an animal of the feline persuasion into a sack, along with a rock. As he was getting ready to carry the sack in question to the pond, Ms. Walker came onto the property to discourage Mr. Rosario from engaging in said activity.”


  “Uh-oh.” He remembered her performance at the restaurant. “How bad?”

  “The cat is fine. Vern doesn’t seem any worse for wear to me, but all I’ve seen of him is the bottom of his boots. The vocal cords seem to be in good working order.”

  “Is that you, Jack?” a voice called from the tree. “It’s about time. This crazy woman comes onto my property and attacks me, and you take your sweet time getting over here. Did you have to stop for a doughnut or something? Did we interrupt your nap time?”

  Jack approached the tree. “Mr. Rosario, why don’t you come down here, and we can sort this thing out.”

  “I’m not coming down until you take that nut to jail. She’s guilty of trespassing and assault.”

  Jack left the man shouting with gusto and sat down next to Bobby.

  She sat with her hands clasped under her chin, regarding him with sober brown eyes. He wished his stomach wouldn’t start spiraling every time she tilted her head to one side like that.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi.”

  “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

  She sat for a moment in silence. “I guess he’s about got everything. I did trespass and assault him.”

  “Why exactly, Bobby?”

  “He was going to drown the cat. This cat.” She gestured to a cat that sat curled around her ankles. “He can’t do that. Drown a cat.” She spoke very calmly.

  He nodded for her to continue.

  “I tried to reason with him. I told him I would take the cat. He wouldn’t listen; he just kept screaming and telling me to get off his property.”

  That did not surprise him. Vern was capable of many things, but reasoning was not way up on the list. “And?”

  “And I took the bag out of his hands. He grabbed a handful of my hair, so I clobbered him. Not real hard, just enough to get him off of me.”

  “Anything else?”

  She wrinkled a freckled nose thoughtfully. “He climbs a tree pretty good for an old guy.”

  “So it would seem,” he said, stifling a smile.

  Bobby turned to look at him. “I don’t want to get in the way of what you have to do, but I won’t let him drown this cat.”

  There was dead-on determination in her eyes. “Just sit tight for a minute.” He headed over to the man Nathan had just talked down out of the tree.

  Vern was a large rectangular man with a deeply lined face and wispy hair. “Well?” he demanded. “I don’t see any handcuffs here. What are you waiting for? I want her arrested, and I want it done now. Bad enough I had to chase some gang off my property last night. Now I got to defend myself in the daytime.”

  “I think you need to calm down, Mr. Rosario. Back up a minute. Who was here last night?”

  “How should I know who they were? Bunch of men and one woman, tramping around my property in the night.”

  “Where?”

  Vern stabbed a finger eastward. “There. On the plot I’m clearing out this summer. I fired a shot and told them to get lost, whoever they were. Now today I got to deal with that girl.”

  “She offered to take the cat, Vern. Why didn’t you let her?”

  “I don’t have to answer to anyone what I do with my property,” he shouted around Jack’s shoulder to the woman. “Not to no gang, and definitely not to no woman.”

  “You could have just given the cat to her and been done with it.” Jack wanted to add, “you arrogant blowhard,” but he restrained himself.

  Vern suddenly pushed past Jack and strode toward Bobby. “I can do whatever I jolly well please with that cat,” he said, spittle flying. “As a matter of fact, as soon as your scrawny carcass gets taken to the tank, I think I’m going to bash it a couple of times with a shovel before I throw it in the pond!”

  She sprang from the rock and knocked the man to the ground, expertly flopping him over and planting her knee between his shoulder blades. She grabbed an ear with each hand and smashed his head into the ground. “You—will—not—kill—that—cat!” She punctuated each word with a smash.

  Jack grabbed her around the waist and lifted her off of Vern, pulling her arms together behind her back. Nathan restrained the now-upright rancher.

  “You see? Did you see that crazy broad attack me?” Vern screamed. “Put her away. Take her to the station and throw her in the clink.”

  Jack frog-marched Bobby several yards away and stood behind her, pinioning her arms until her breathing slowed. He spoke soothingly into her ear. “Okay, okay. Calm down. You need to get it together. Take a deep breath.” He turned her around to face him. “Are you in control?”

  She gazed past him, nostrils flared. “I will not let him kill that animal,” she hissed through gritted teeth. “If you need to arrest me, go ahead, but I’m not leaving him with the cat.”

  “I know. I need you to let me handle it. Will you trust me to do that?” He gently tipped her chin so she had to look at him.

  After a minute, she nodded.

  “Stay here,” he commanded. “Do not move from this spot.”

  He returned to the two men. “Okay, Mr. Rosario. Here’s what you’re going to do. You are going to let the lady have the cat, and we will remove them both from your property. No charges will be filed.”

  The man stared incredulously. “What? Are you insane? Why would I do that? I am the victim here.”

  “Because,” he said, leaning forward until his face was very close to the other man’s, “if you don’t, I am going to tell every one of your bowling buddies that a woman the size of Minnie Mouse chased you up a tree and then kicked your sorry behind into the dirt.”

  Vern’s eyes narrowed into vicious slits. “You can’t do that.”

  “I sure as shootin’ can. Now go back into your house and forget this ever happened.”

  Jack watched as the man grudgingly plodded back toward the house. Vern hesitated, and Jack added, “Hey, Vern? I think Ellen Foots is going to get a little tip about animal cruelty at this address. She might want to check things out.”

  The man groaned and stalked into the house.

  Bobby walked to the car, cradling the cat. “Who is Ellen Foots?”

  “The Finny librarian and an amateur animal protection officer. She’s six foot six inches of tempered steel without a shred of humor.”

  “I think I’d like to meet her.”

  He glanced at her and shuddered at the thought. “Get in the car, Bobby.”

  The ride back from Vern’s was a very quiet one. Jack did not know quite what to say to the puzzling woman beside him. Bobby sat with the cat in her lap and watched the fog roll in over the top of Finny’s Nose.

  “Are those Douglas firs there?” she asked, squinting through the side window. “Just over the top of the nose? See that really big one right next to the smaller group?”

  “You’ll need to ask someone else, I’m afraid. I wouldn’t know a Douglas fir from a Christmas tree,” he said.

  Bobby laughed. “They are Christmas trees. I just wondered how they got up there.” She looked over at him. “Vern really shouldn’t cut down that stand of trees. It’s a crime to cut old-growth redwoods.”

  “It’s his land. He can do what he wants.” He cleared his throat. “Bobby, you don’t happen to be the woman Vern saw on his property last night, do you?”

  “No, I reserve all my law breaking for the daylight hours.”

  “Good,” he said with relief then suddenly checked his watch. “Uh-oh. I just realized what time it is. I promised Louella under pain of losing important parts of myself that I would be home by six sharp.” He checked his watch again. “Five minutes to six. Would you be okay coming to my house for a minute before I take you home?”

  She regarded him with the head-tilted glance. “Sure. Uncle Monk told me about Paul. Said he’s a great kid. I’d love to meet him.”

  He nodded, swallowing hard. Visitors to the Denny household had been reduced to a trickle since Lacey died, except for an occasional colleague. He couldn�
�t remember the last time he had invited someone into the house who wasn’t wearing a badge. It might have been the cable guy.

  They drove up to the small ranch-style home and pulled in along the street. Jack had not been able to park in the driveway next to the mailbox where Lacey died. Even now he waited until dark to retrieve the mail, whistling vigorously to prevent his mind from straying too far back to the past.

  “I think maybe you ought to put your cat friend in the garage. I’m not sure Mr. Boo Boo will take to him.”

  Louella was waiting for them at the door. He introduced the two women. Louella didn’t hide the surprise on her round face as she eagerly grasped Bobby’s hands and patted them. “Well, isn’t it just a pleasure to meet you?” She beamed as she tucked flyaway strands of white hair behind her ears. “It’s been an age since we’ve had company.” She narrowed her eyes at Jack. “How come you didn’t phone me to say you were bringing a visitor? I could have cooked something for you.”

  “It just sort of came up, Louella,” he muttered. “Don’t let us make you late for your meeting. Let me carry your bag to the car.” He grabbed her canvas tote and headed to the front door.

  “And this is Paul,” Louella said. She stroked the blond hair of the boy who had suddenly materialized behind her leg.

  The boy peeked around her ample flowered hip. “He’s a good boy, so handsome and kind.” She added slyly, “Just like his father.”

  He walked Louella to her car while she peppered him with questions about Cootchie and then Bobby. After he finally stowed her safely in the front seat, Jack returned to the house to find the front hallway empty. Following the sound of murmuring voices, he wandered into the family room.

  He stopped dead in his tracks.

  Bobby was lying on her stomach on the carpet, concentrating on a colorful pile of LEGOs. Paul was draped over her back, chin on top of her head, watching in breathless wonder.

  He expected his son to hide in his room, or at the most ignore the guest as he typically did new people. “Wow,” was all he could manage.

  They both looked up. “It’s better than wow. It’s a rocket ship,” Bobby said. “I’m a whiz at LEGOs, don’t you think, Paul?”