by Sylvia Nobel
“Well, the dirty dog,” I murmured. “He got away with it.”
“Yep,” Whitey answered, rubbing the cloth along the bar. “Even after the war when copper prices fell and Jeb was in big trouble, he flatly refused to sell when Jasper’s son offered to buy him out. It was Hannah’s dying wish that the mine stay in Morgan hands forever.”
Everything seemed clear now. The longstanding hatred for the Claypools had obviously ended with Haston who had swallowed the family pride to obtain backing for his venture. I could even understand Jesse’s resentment towards Grady who’d stubbornly harbored malice for something that had happened over a century ago. Had her hostility culminated in murder?
Conversation halted briefly when the lights dimmed. Thunder shook the building and we all turned toward the door when Skeet and his companion blew in accompanied by rain-scented wind. “Got ‘er out for you just in the nick of time,” he announced triumphantly, dangling the car keys in front of me. “Looks like we’re gonna get drowned again.”
I thanked him profusely, offering to pay for his time and was once again refused. At my insistence, he and his friend finally accepted a beer.
“I noticed you got some pretty sizeable dings in the hood,” Skeet remarked. “I could run ‘er over to Toomey’s if you like.”
“What’s Toomey’s?”
“Only garage left in town. Only place left to get gas and groceries too,” he tacked on. “But, anyhow he does real good body work and could probably have ‘er fixed for you in a couple a days.”
“Thanks, but I think I’ll wait till I’m back home. I like having my own wheels.”
Whitey leaned on the bar, grinning. “You could drive that brand new Suburban.”
I stared at him uncomprehending for a second. “You mean D.J.’s?”
“That ain’t his,” Earl scoffed. “He can’t afford nothing that spiffy. It belonged to Grady. He uses it to run errands and haul Marta around.”
“Doesn’t she drive?” I asked.
“Naw. Ain’t you seen them goggles she wears? They ain’t gonna give her no driver’s license.”
“Even so. I wouldn’t dream of taking his car.”
Whitey’s laugh boomed out. “Irish, you’re slipping. Haven’t you taken a gander inside that big garage up there behind the house?”
“No.”
“There’s enough vehicles in there to open a car lot. Good Lord, there’s a 1930 Cord, a 1950 Healey and a 1955 Thunderbird as sweet as any you’ll ever see. Classics they are, and most of them in mint condition. They’re Miss Audrey’s now. I’ll bet you a dollar to a donut she’d let you pick out any one of them puppies you want.”
I opened my mouth to politely decline when Earl cut in again. “Why don’t you call Toomey’s and get that squirrelly dame, Willow, to set you up an appointment.”
My interest level shot up. “Willow Windsong?”
It was Whitey’s turn to look surprised. “You know her?”
“Heard of her. What does she do there?”
“She keeps the books, sells groceries ‘n’ stuff, answers the phones,” another old-timer volunteered from the far end of the bar. “She’s only there till noon most days. The rest of the time you kin find ‘er crashin’ around in the brush rescuin’ critters or settin’ up in a tree on some bird’s nest doing her damnedest to hatch eggs.” The man’s hoarse cackle was so contagious, laughter rippled through the room.
I caught Skeet’s eye as I gathered up my things. “Thanks. I may take your suggestion, but right now I’d better head back up the hill before this storm hits. Oh, and thanks to everybody for the history lesson.”
There was a returning chorus of gratitude for the beers, but as I slipped off the stool and prepared to go, it struck me. I hadn’t asked the one question I needed to. “One more thing. Why was Dr. Orcutt and a man like Grady Morgan such close friends?”
Whitey puckered his lips thoughtfully. “They were an unlikely pair, I’ll give you that. The Orcutts didn’t have two nickels to rub together, but Miles was a real bright kid and I think Jeb hoped some of his smarts would rub off on Grady. When his pa died, old Jeb paid for the doc’s medical schooling. After he and Fran got hitched, it wasn’t but a couple months later Grady up and married his second cousin.”
I stared blankly. “Wait a minute. I’m lost. Audrey’s mother was Dr. Orcutt’s cousin?”
“No, no, not Rita. She was Grady’s second wife. First time around he married Lydia Crandall.”
“I see. Were there any other children?”
Whitey’s face clouded. “Yeah. Miss Audrey had an older sister named Dayln. Wild as a March hare, that one.” “More like the Demon’s seed, if you ask me,” muttered Earl.
A strange pall fell and I glanced sharply around the room, my stomach clenching in anticipation at the uneasy expressions shadowing the men’s faces. I looked back at Whitey. “Somebody want to enlighten me?”
Whitey cleared his throat and concentrated on polishing a glass, for once seeming reluctant to talk. “Listen, Irish,” he said at last, “there must be a hundred different versions of what really happened. You being a reporter and all and knowing how important it is to get your facts straight...if I was you, I’d haul my tail up Vixen Hill and have me a little chat with the kid’s godmother, Ida Fairfield.”
I eyed him with skeptical amusement. “Vixen Hill?” Grinning broadly, he explained that over the years, some of the surrounding slopes had acquired colorful names like Dead Dog, Silver Bird and Devil’s Hill.
“That’s where the Morgan place sets,” Earl offered, adding, “You know why it’s called that?”
I looked around at the expectant faces. “No.”
“Well, it’s cuz of them two big ol’ rocks that stick out of the top. When you see ‘em from just the right angle, they look just like the horns of old Satan himself.”
“I see. By the way, I noticed what looks like the remains of a road behind the house.”
Skeet answered, “Oh, that there’s the old mine road. Ain’t been used much in twenty years, but if you want a nice walk, you’ll end up on the mine property.”
“Interesting.”
Whitey seemed slightly miffed that we’d interrupted his yarn and quickly regained the topic. “Now, then, getting back to how Ida’s hill got its name. It seems her ma and several other ladies of the evening once operated the red light district way back when. Yes, sir,” he said, arching a downy brow at me, “you can bet your boots the paths leading up and down that hill got used plenty.”
I grinned. “No doubt. But I want to backtrack to the subject of Grady’s first daughter. Why did Earl call her the Demon’s seed?”
“Had a bit of the devil in her, just like her pa. She got into all manner of trouble at school. Hung out with a rough bunch of kids. Anyway, the story goes that when she was about twelve or thirteen Grady accused her of trying to do him in one night with a butcher knife.”
I drew back in surprise, searching his face for signs that he might be putting me on. He wasn’t. “Why?”
His elongated shrug was combined with an upward eye roll. “Nobody seems to know for sure.”
I wondered if Dr. Orcutt knew. “So, what happened next?”
“He sent her ass away,” a grim-faced Earl filled in.
“Where? To a juvenile detention center?”
“No,” Whitey answered somberly. “To one of those places for the criminally insane.”
Chapter 9
With great reluctance, I finally tore myself from the friendly gathering at the Muleskinner and stepped outside. The sky was still overcast, but the wind had died down again, leaving the air heavy and oppressive. I was elated with what I’d learned. Bits and pieces of the stories whirled crazily in my head, especially the final one concerning Audrey’s half-sister. I’d pressed Whitey for more details, but he’d been adamant that I talk to Ida Fairfield, adding only that Dayln Morgan had died in a mysterious fire over twenty years ago. It seemed unlikely that whatever ha
ppened back then had any bearing on the present, but I was itching to find out anyway. And considering how the events of a hundred years ago eerily interconnected with today, anything seemed possible.
The sight of my little blue Volvo parked at the curb brought me a feeling of warm comfort that faded into bewilderment as I drew closer. The car was solidly wedged between two vehicles. An ancient, pea-green Ford Falcon was backed up against the front bumper while a late-model pickup was parked snugly against the rear. There couldn’t have been more than an inch to maneuver either way. What kind of a stupid joke was this?
Anger scorching my face, I looked up one side of the street and down the other at first seeing nothing suspicious. But on closer inspection, I spied two men loitering in a doorway and I was pretty sure I’d found my perpetrators. One was short, round and unfamiliar, but the second man was the creep who’d been eyeballing my wet T-shirt yesterday.
I approached them warily, unable to repress a prickle of revulsion at the way the taller man’s eyes were boldly undressing me. It was pretty hard to miss the fact that he’d taken pains to spruce up a bit. He’d shaven close enough to nick himself a few times and he sported a clean sleeveless muscle shirt and leather vest.
Before I could utter a word, the chubby one in overalls let out a moronic twitter. “Archie wants to show you his snake.”
“Is that so?” I switched my attention to the other man and my skin crawled. Leering, he turned sideways and extended his arm so I could get the full effect of the multi-colored rattlesnake tattoo stretching from wrist to shoulder. Slowly, he bent his elbow and flexed his biceps until the serpent’s fangs scissored back and forth.
The notion that he thought his little sideshow would be a turn-on was nothing short of appalling, when in fact, the sight of it actually made me ill. Struggling to maintain composure, I said coolly, “My, my, isn’t that impressive. And now, maybe you fellows would like to tell me what’s going on.”
“Is there a problem?” Archie asked with feigned innocence, running his tongue ever so slowly along his lower lip.
His behavior was irksome enough, but besides the unbridled lust mirrored in his eyes, there was a aura of menace about him that bothered me more. “Why don’t you just cut the crap and move your truck.”
“Oh, come on now,” he coaxed, stepping close enough for me to get a whiff of his musk-scented cologne. “That ain’t no way to be. I thought maybe you being a big time reporter and all, you might want to take a ride someplace nice and quiet where we could talk about a couple a things you might find real interesting.”
Word traveled fast. It had only been a few hours since I’d revealed my vocation to Marta. I eyed him suspiciously, reluctant to pass up vital information, but if he thought I was going to jump in his truck and be driven God knows where, he definitely had a screw loose.
I pulled the notepad from my purse while forcing a smile. “If you have something to tell me, we can talk right here.”
He hesitated. “Well...you sort of have to...you know, see it.” His cloying tone was obviously meant to sound enticing and I would have had to be blind to miss the suggestive glint smoldering in his eyes. Suddenly, I was tired of the whole ridiculous game. “All right, Mr...Ah?” I paused expectantly, waiting for him to fill in his name.
“Lawton. Archibald Lawton,” he replied smoothly. “But everybody calls me Archie.”
“Okay, Archie,” I began in a sugary tone, returning the notepad to my purse. “I’ll be glad to come with you— as soon as fish need bicycles.”
The light of expectation in his eyes darkened to anger when his sidekick brayed with laughter. “Shut up, Toby.” He fired a withering glare at me before roughly grabbing his companion’s sleeve and shoving him towards the green Falcon.
Then, without warning, Archie lost his footing. He slipped off the curb and had to grab the handle of his truck to avoid falling. That sent Toby into another fit of giggles and it was an effort to stifle my own laughter.
His wounded male ego in shambles, my would-be suitor made a valiant effort to restore his composure by vaulting into the cab. He ground the truck into reverse, backed up onto the curb, and then squealed away in a cloud of dust, much as Jesse had done earlier. I shook my head in wonder. Who were these guys? The two stooges?
It wasn’t until I was almost back to the Morgan house that the memory surfaced. Archie drove a white pickup similar to the one I’d seen yesterday speeding toward Boneyard Pass. And his supposed off-hand remarks last night about how brave we’d been now seemed suspiciously coincidental.
But, try as I might, I couldn’t figure out the point of this latest encounter. Whatever was going on, I decided, parking my car near the entrance to the big Victorian, Archie Lawton didn’t appear to have enough working brain cells to mastermind anything. So the obvious conclusion was that someone had put him up to it. Why, was the question?
I hurried up the stairs, anxious to share my news with Audrey and found her pacing back and forth on the screen porch. “Where have you been?” she snapped, whirling to face me.
I drew back, surprised. “I told you where I was going. I would have been here sooner except I was waylaid by a couple of scumballs with a rather questionable agenda.”
“What do you mean?”
“You remember the nasty-faced guy at the bar last night?”
She blinked. “Which one?”
“Mr. Eyeballs. You know, the horny dude who was staring at my boobs?”
Her lips curled in distaste. “Oh, him.”
I outlined my confrontation with the two men and she murmured, “Do you think he really had something important to show you?”
I shrugged and laid my camera and purse on the porch swing. “That I don’t know, but I wouldn’t be surprised to find that he had something to do with our little adventure with the falling rock yesterday.”
She looked suitably stunned, but I could tell by the fearful expression in her eyes that something else besides my lateness was troubling her. “What’s wrong? Did something happen while I was gone?”
“Dr. Orcutt was here.”
“And?”
“He’s real upset.”
“About what?”
“You. He knows you’re a reporter and why you’re here. And he told me that if I allow you to print one word of this and let you go snooping around in the past he said...” She paused, lips trembling. “He said it would go directly against my mother’s final wishes and forever tarnish her sacred memory.”
It was amazing. In terms of speed, the Morgan’s Folly grapevine rivaled the Internet. “Sacred memory, my ass. If you’ll recall he admitted to being a reluctant partner to your mother’s requests. Think about it, she must have had a deliberate reason for wanting you to come here or she wouldn’t have gone to such effort to make sure. If you ask me it’s Dr. Orcutt who has something to hide. Did you know that your grandfather paid for his medical schooling?”
Her mouth dropped open. “No. How would I know that?”
“I just found out myself. Remember he said your coming here had placed him in an awkward position? What’s that all about? And you want to know something else? He left out quite a few pertinent details during our little chat this morning.”
As I repeated what I’d heard at the saloon, a profusion of emotions marched across her guileless face. At first she frowned, sobered by the story of the Morgan/Claypool feud, and then the barest whisper of a smile blossomed during my account of the accidental shooting incident. The knowledge that she was on the brink of becoming a rich woman left her appearing vaguely nonplussed, but the last part, the news about Dayln, triggered a look of utter devastation. “I had a sister,” she gasped, clutching her stomach as if in pain. “Oh, my God.”
She sat down hard on the glider and stared unseeing into the distance. I kept quiet and the uneasy silence stretched on until she said in a subdued voice, “Kendall, you have a loving family. You can’t imagine what it’s like to be completely alone. No father, no si
sters or brothers...”
“You did have your mother.”
“True. But, she was so lost in herself it was...well, sometimes it was like being with nobody. I understand why now,” she tacked on quickly, as if I would disagree, “but it still hurts. It hurts so much to know that she deprived me of my family, my real identity and...”
“Audrey, I’m convinced there’s a lot more Dr. Orcutt hasn’t told us.”
“I know. I feel it too. Especially because of the things Mom said in her letter, but you know,” she went on in a dreamy voice, “the best part is for the first time in my life, I feel certain that she really loved me and I would never, ever do anything to dishonor her memory.”
I leaned my head on the glider back and stared morosely at bursts of violet heat lightning tinting the twilight sky. It was becoming tiresome to have to justify myself at every turn. “What do you want me to do?” I asked after another long empty moment. “I’ve got the car back. Do you want me to leave?”
She looked disconcerted. “Oh, no. You’ve been so kind and helpful. Please, I need you to stay. I don’t care what Dr. Orcutt says.”
I eyed her critically. Boy, she was hard to gauge. Hot one second, cold the next. “Look, Audrey the more I dig into past events, the more dicey things may get so I have to know that you’re firmly in my corner. No wavering, no doubts. You think you can handle it?”
Appearing contrite, she compressed rosebud lips. “You’re right, Kendall. I’ve never been much of a fighter, but I guess I have to take a stand sometime. And, you’ll be proud of me. I even got up enough courage to call Haston while you were out.”
“Well, that is progress. And when do we see the divine couple?”
She grinned at my remark. “Tomorrow at ten. He said the office is located about three miles west of here in a mobile home just beyond the main gate to the mine property. And you know what? He was actually fairly cordial to me. I guess Dr. Orcutt must have had another talk with him.”