by Joyce Magnin
“Can he get transferred to a California prison?”
Martha shrugged. “I don’t know. Never thought about it. I could always check, but it’s not like he’s at a university.”
Harriet looked at the time on her phone. “She should be here.”
“She’ll get here. Don’t worry.” Martha fooled with her napkin, folding the corners down and then smoothing it back out.
Harriet thought it was a very nervous thing to do.
“There she is,” Harriet said, pointing toward the window.
Lily saw them and waved. Harriet and Martha waved back.
“Hi, Lily,” Harriet said. “You made it. Where’s your dad?”
“He said I could come alone. He had some business in Nevada City.”
“Okay,” Harriet said. “Just us girls.”
Lily smiled and sat near Martha.
“Would you like something to eat before we go?” Martha asked.
“Sure,” Lily said. “The usual, I guess.”
Harriet got Tammy’s attention and ordered a basket of fries.
“You and your fries,” Martha said.
“They’re the best,” Harriet said.
“Sure are,” Lily said.
Harriet thought Lily seemed more relaxed without her father nearby.
“I would drive to Brunner’s Run myself,” Harriet said. “But I’m not exactly certain I’ll find it.”
“Oh, it’s pretty easy,” Lily said. “But I don’t mind taking you. Not like I got anything better to do.”
“What do you like to do?” Martha asked.
“Oh, I don’t know. I used to like to draw and stuff but not so much anymore.”
“Remember, I told you Martha is an artist?” Harriet said.
“Oh, yeah.” Lily practically beamed at Martha. “That’s so cool.”
“I like to work with stained glass and pottery. I’ve even painted but not so much anymore.”
“Wow, yeah, I’d like to paint.” Lily looked at Harriet. “But living with Pop and moving so much, well, it’s just hard.”
Tammy set the large red basket with the wax paper and a mountain of fries in the center of the table. “I brought a little extra,” she said. “You can all share.”
“That’s nice of you,” Harriet said.
“Yeah, thanks,” Lily said.
Martha snagged two and squeezed ketchup onto them.
Lily laughed. “I’ve never seen anyone do that. Most folks just squirt it all over or make a puddle.”
Martha smiled. “Aw, but this is the way to do it, just a thin line of ketchup. That way you get ketchup with every bite.”
Lily picked up a fry and did the same. She ate it and said, “You know, I think you’re onto something.”
“Why thank you, sweetie,” Martha said.
Henry couldn’t help it. He was pacing the den, waiting for Prudence to call. In fact, he was about fed up with waiting and was seriously thinking about going into town and bringing his mother home and having a serious discussion with her.
“Humphrey,” he said, “she could be in danger. What if this Winslow Jump guy is a kook?”
Humphrey paced with him.
“Maybe I should just drive into town and—” He stopped pacing. “She has the car. That means I’d have to take the scooter.” He sat down at his desk. “Stupid scooter.”
There came a knock on the deck sliders. “Who can that be? The police, maybe? Or Florence with pie.”
Humphrey said, “Woof.”
“Okay, okay, it’s not the best time for pie. Don’t judge me.” Henry headed for the door. It was Daisy Day standing on the opposite side of the screen.
“Hey, Henry,” she called with a wave. “Just checking on things. I wanted to say hi and see if ya’ll had any concerns or questions.”
Henry pulled open the screen. Humphrey skittered out the door between them.
“Oh, hey, Daisy. Nope. No questions. It seems to be moving right along. Everything’s fine. Fine as can be.”
“Are you all right?” Daisy asked. “You seem a little flustered. Too much caffeine, maybe.”
“No, no. I’m fine. Waiting for an important call.”
“Well, okay. As long as you’re sure, but you might want to taper off the java.”
Henry let go a nervous laugh. “As a matter of fact, I was going to tell you that I think Manuel and his men do some mighty fine work.”
“They sure do,” Daisy said. “The best in town.”
Daisy and Henry stood looking at each other for a long few seconds until Henry perked up and said, “Hey, speaking of mighty fine work, guess what?”
“What?” Daisy said with a glint in her eye.
Henry walked onto the deck and joined Daisy. “Now, this doesn’t have anything to do with the addition.” He smiled. “Well, now, I suppose it is an addition. Prudence and I just found out we are having twins.”
Daisy clasped her hands across her heart. “Well, bless your heart, isn’t that just the most wonderful news. Congratulations.”
“Thank you. We were pretty surprised. It’s still sinking in.”
“Then I guess the addition is right on time. You might want to consider bumping out the other side of the house and adding another room someday. Babies have a way of growing.”
“Oh, maybe, but not for a while, fortunately.”
Henry’s cell jingled. He pulled it from his pocket. “Prudence,” he said looking at Daisy. “I’m sorry, but I have to talk to her.”
“Go on,” Daisy said. “And tell her I said congrats.”
Henry waved and closed the slider. “Pru?”
“I have some bad news.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
HARRIET PAID THE BILL WHILE SHE AND MARTHA WAITED for Lily to return from the restroom.
“You said it was about an hour’s drive,” Martha said. She looked through a spinner rack of postcards. “This is a nice one.” She showed Harriet an image of downtown Grass Valley with a view of the mountains.
“Yes, about an hour, give or take,” Harriet said, looking at the card. “It’s not a bad ride, and Downieville is such a cute town. Very small.”
“Downieville?” said the cashier. “That’s where I was born.”
“Is that right?” Harriet said. “Well, it’s an adorable town.”
“I hear there’s lots of gold up there,” Martha said with her eyes on Harriet.
“Oh, heck yeah,” the cashier said. “It’s all over the place—if you know how to get it and where exactly to look. And you got the money and time.”
Harriet coughed. “Do you know anyone who struck it rich?”
The cashier laughed. “No, not really. But I got a brother-in-law, the lazy so and so, who keeps thinking he will.” She set a receipt on the counter for Harriet to sign.
“Maybe he will,” Harriet said.
“When pigs fly,” the cashier said. “When pigs fly.”
Lily finally made her way back from the bathroom.
“Sorry it took so long,” she said. “But I wanted to call my pop. Make sure of the directions.”
“No problem,” Harriet said. “I hope you didn’t disturb him.”
“No, he’s … not that busy.”
Lily sidled next to Martha as they walked to the car.
“I never drove in such a fancy car,” Lily said. “Just my pop’s truck. And it’s so bouncy. He says it needs shocks, whatever they are.”
Martha opened the door, and Lily slid into the backseat. “Buckle up.”
“So I just get out on that Golden Chance Highway?” Harriet said.
“Pop said it was the Golden Chain,” Lily said.
“Okey dokey,” Harriet said. She made all her necessary adjustments, set her hands at two and ten, and said, “Brunner’s Run, here we come.”
“Downieville or bust,” Martha said.
Harriet looked in the rearview mirror in time to catch Lily rolling her eyes.
“Oh, Harriet?” Lily
said. “Can you take me to Nevada City after we’re done at the stream? Pop said he’d meet me at the diner there.”
“Sure thing,” Harriet said.
Harriet was just starting to think how pleasant the ride was when Martha started to speak with Lily about the gold mine.
“So has your father ever actually found gold?” she asked Lily.
“Sure. Some. Small stuff, dust mostly. He pans.”
“But he really believes there is gold in this … this … what do you call it?”
“A placer mine,” Harriet said.
Martha turned and saw Lily shrug. “That’s right. A placer mine. He thinks this could be our ticket.”
“I hope he’s right,” Martha said.
Soon Harriet crossed over the little one-lane bridge into Downieville.
“Welcome to Downieville,” she said. “Isn’t it just the cutest place you’ve ever seen?”
“It is small,” Martha said. “Looks like a scene from a Western movie. And oh dear, what’s that? An elk?”
Harriet looked. “Yeah, sure is,” she said looking out toward a large meadow. “That’s an elk. And a big one.”
Lily laughed. “You guys crack me up. It’s just an overgrown deer.”
“But he’s spectacular,” Harriet said.
“Whatever,” Lily said. “Now, remember to look for the little turn off.”
Harriet started up the hill, the hill with the narrow, winding lane. She practically had to hug the car against the mountain. “Hang on,” she said. “It gets a little bumpy.”
“And scary,” Martha said. “Couldn’t they make the road a little wider?”
Harriet drove on, taking the curves slowly. Keeping both hands on the wheel.
“Over there,” Lily said. “Pull in over there.”
“Oh, I remember this,” Harriet said. She parked the car off the road on a clearing. “The stream is just over there.”
“Where?” Martha asked. “I don’t see anything.”
“It’s kind of hidden behind those trees,” Harriet said. “I told you it wasn’t big.”
“Can we get out? Take a look?”
“Sure,” Harriet said. “Let’s go.”
Harriet stood on the bank of the small creek with Martha. “See it?” she said.
“See what?” Martha asked.
“The gold,” Lily said. “See those specks and glittering dust? That’s the gold.”
“Really? That’s it? I can hardly see it. It doesn’t look like gold,” Martha said. “And if it is gold, why don’t we just get it out of here?”
“Small potatoes,” Harriet said. She pointed up the mountain. “The bigger stuff is way up there.”
“See, look there,” Lily said pointing. “There’s a tiny piece.” She bent down and moved the rock. She placed a teeny-tiny gold speck on Martha’s palm. “It’s like Harriet said, the bigger stuff is up yonder.”
Harriet watched Martha shield her eyes to get a better view of the mountain. “And we can’t go there?”
“No,” Lily said. “It’s not a good idea. Too dangerous. And you would have to hike part of the way.”
Martha took a breath. “Has your father said when they expect to produce actual gold?”
“Oh, any day now, I’m sure,” Lily said. “The guys will let Pop know when they’ve got something to talk about. Pop says it takes a lot of time to produce enough gold to count.”
Harriet watched Martha shake her head as though she still didn’t believe there really was a gold mine.
“You can keep that,” Lily said to Martha.
“Oh, okay, thanks.”
They walked back to the car.
“So is this your dad’s hobby?” Martha said. “I was wondering what he did for a real job.”
“Martha,” Harriet said with a twinge of frustration. “Why are you giving her the third degree?”
Martha opened the door and got in. “I’m not. I’m just curious.”
“It’s okay,” Lily said.
Harriet glanced at Lily in the rearview mirror after they both got in the car. She was looking out the window. “Oh, he does a lot of things,” she said. “Especially since Mom died. He goes from job to job.”
Martha turned around. “I didn’t mean to pry, sweetie. I was just wondering, that’s all. It just seemed to me that making money looking for gold is … is a little slow.”
“We do all right,” Lily said.
“Did he ever work a real job?” Martha asked.
Lily shrugged. Harriet pushed the key button and the car beeped.
“I don’t know,” Lily said. “Maybe. Maybe before Mama died.”
Martha reached back and took Lily’s hand. “I’m sorry, honey. I don’t want to dredge up memories. I was just wondering how you get along.”
“Like I said, we do all right.”
“Okay,” Martha said. “Now, you buckle up and we’ll get you to that diner.”
Harriet found her way back to the mountain highway.
“I really want this to work out for you, Harriet,” Martha said once Harriet was on the straightaway again. “I hope you strike it rich.”
“I don’t know about striking it rich, really rich, but we’ll strike something. I have a good feeling about it.”
Martha turned back to Lily, who was still looking out the window. “Don’t you want it to work out for Harriet?” Martha asked.
Lily swiped something from her eye and nodded. “And my pop.”
“Now, I don’t have much information,” Prudence said, “but I did discover that this Crickets fellow—yeah, he’s a real person—has just been released from prison, about six months ago.”
Henry practically fell into a kitchen chair. “Oh no. Is Mom in danger?”
“I don’t think so. He’s been keeping a pretty low profile. And not only this, but it seems like this Jump guy is wanted in a few states on all kinds of charges too. He’s a scam artist. But it’s the Crickets fellow who is apparently calling the shots, probably collecting most of your mother’s money. Jump is just his toady.”
“I knew it,” Henry said. “Martha was right. I’m so glad she told me. Should we call the bunko squad?”
“Bunko?” Prudence laughed. “No. I called the FBI. And, Henry, they’re already on the case. They’ve been watching Winslow Jump for days now.”
Humphrey sat on his haunches looking at Henry. Worried. Henry patted his head. “It’s okay. Mom will be fine.”
“What?” Prudence said.
“I was talking to the dog,” Henry said. “But what do you think I should do?”
“Nothing for now. She’ll come home, and we’ll confront her and tell what we know. I mean it, Henry. Do not do anything. Don’t go all cowboy.”
“She’s going to be so upset.”
“For a few minutes, and then I’m sure she’ll feel relieved. Maybe a little embarrassed. But at least we nipped it before it went too far.”
Henry wasn’t so sure his mother would be relieved after just a few minutes. “Okay. I guess … I mean … I know we have no choice. When will you be home?”
“I’ll be home as early as possible. And, Henry, please, I mean it. Don’t draw attention to this. Let the authorities handle it.”
Henry tapped off the phone. “Humphrey,” he said, “we should have let her arrange her salt and pepper shakers. I should never have told her to go out and make friends. Leave it to Harriet Beamer to find a crook, an actual criminal to make friends with.”
Humphrey whined. Henry patted his head again. “I’m going down there. I can’t stand the thought of her—and Martha—with some crook.”
The dog barked and scrambled toward the sliders. “You want to go?”
Humphrey said, “Woof.”
But then Henry remembered again that he’d have to take the scooter. Henry patted Humphrey’s side. “Sorry, old man, but that means you can’t go.”
With no other choice, Henry strapped the bright yellow helmet onto his head an
d straddled the scooter. He turned the key, and the Vespa chugged to life like an overgrown sewing machine. “Here we go,” he said as he took off toward town. He found the small horn button and gave it a little toot. “Just in case I need it.”
Henry got the scooter all the way to forty miles an hour. The seat was hard and uncomfortable. His long legs felt cramped as he tooled along toward downtown.
“I bet she’s at the café. I hope she’s at the café. Where else could she be?”
That was when he heard a loud horn behind him. He swerved to the right and allowed a large ice cream truck to pass him. “That’s it. My mother is getting a car.”
When he arrived, Henry pulled the scooter in front of the café. “I think it was called Rachel’s,” he said. “Well, I’ll just have to check every coffee shop in downtown if I have to.” He rode the scooter to the parking lot across the street. “She better be there.”
Henry opened the door, catching a glimpse of himself in the glass. He had forgotten to remove the helmet. “Nuts.” He unstrapped it and went directly to the cashier.
“I’m looking for my mother. She’s about yea tall with gray hair and wearing … shoot, what was she wearing? She was with another woman. Gray hair …”
“Oh, they were here,” the cashier said. “They were with that girl.”
“Girl?” Henry looked around the café, hoping to see his mother. His eyes landed on the woman in the dark blue jacket at the counter. She was looking right at him. He ignored her.
“What girl? I don’t know anything about a girl.”
“Well, she was with them. They left a while ago,” the cashier said.
“When?” Henry nearly leaned over the counter and grabbed the girl by the lapels. “When did they leave? Did they say where they were going? No. Why would they tell you?”
“Well, the older woman did mention Downieville.”
“Downieville?” Henry said. “What the heck is in Downieville?”
The cashier shrugged. “I only know because I told her I was born there. She said it was a nice town.”
Henry slapped the counter. “Downieville. I can’t ride a scooter to Downieville. But who is the girl?”
“How should I know?” the cashier said.
He looked around with nervous, darting, lizard eyes. “Okay. Thank you,” he said. “I’ll just have to wait for her. Did she say if she was coming back?”