by Anne Hagan
I turned to Dana who was looking at the man curiously. Unexpectedly, she spoke to him, “Nice to see you again, Art, is it?”
The man peered at her intently then shook his head. “I don’t believe I know you.”
“We met briefly last night. I was with Chuck and his group.”
The man had the nerve to harrumph loudly and turn away. I mouthed, ‘how rude’, to Dana. She half shrugged and continued to love on Boo.
The young woman working with the standard shut off the dryer and let the dog down from the table. Holding a single finger up toward us, letting us know to ‘wait one’, she led the poodle through a door at the back of the shop and then reappeared without it. “I’m Shae; how can I help you?” she addressed us, her eyes on Boo. She smiled a genuine smile as she watched the puppy whose curiosity was now overcoming her fear.
Dana spoke up, “We’re looking for some obedience training for this little girl right here. Can you recommend anybody we could work with?”
The man waiting for the spaniel harrumphed again, loudly this time. “Just train her yer’self like everybody else does.”
“Now Mr. Majors,” Shae cautioned him, “small breeds can be pretty feisty but they respond well to all sorts of training and purebred Boston’s like she appears to be can even do advanced agility. They’re very athletic.”
“Well now isn’t that something?” I looked first at my daughter. They could do agility training together and both benefit from it... When she didn’t respond right away, I looked at Major’s on her left who’s eyes were now boring into Boo. “So you’re Art Majors are you?”
Dana stared at me while the man himself grumbled, “I think we’ve already established that. What’s it to you?”
“It’s just that you were missed at the funeral for Terry Ford the other day, is all. Several people asked about you.”
My daughter was giving me the evil eye but I plowed on, “As I understand it, you two were great friends once. It’s a shame you didn’t make it to his send off.”
“Just who the hell are you lady?” He was angry now, his face red with his fury.
“Mama!” Dana was beyond annoyed. She gave me a look that could only be read as ‘shut up!’
“Can I have my dog please?” Majors demanded. “I don’t come in here to get harassed by people I don’t even know!”
The young woman working with the spaniel lowered the table and let him off of it, rang Majors out and sent him on his way with a ‘thank you for your business’ that he didn’t even acknowledge.
When the door closed behind him, Dana addressed the two women, “I apologize for my mother.” She shot me another look, “I don’t know what’s gotten into her!”
“No worries,” Shae replied.
“Yeah, he’s always grim and gruff,” the lady who’d been working with Majors’ dog told us.
While I got the name of a trainer and her number out of Shae, I had Dana have the other groomer trim Boo’s nails and pay her, even though I could have done her nails myself. I just felt bad for stirring up trouble that Art Majors might take out on them. I even had Dana buy her own set of nail clippers from them. They were twice the price they would have been at a big box store but I knew she could afford it.
“What the hell was all of that about in there, Mama?”
“You don’t have to shout dear.”
“What are you trying to do?”
“Nothing at all. I was just making conversation.”
“You call needling that man ‘conversation’?”
“Okay, call it making an observation then, if that makes you feel better.”
“You’re crazy, you know that?”
###
Mama Rossi
I tried the number I had for the trainer but I got her voicemail. After leaving her a message, we headed back to the house. Dana was annoyed with me and we had Boo with us anyway so doing any furniture shopping was out of the question.
As soon as Dana was off in her room and out of earshot, I called Faye and told her about Art.
“I know him Chloe. He always has been a little rough around the edges but he’s not usually rude...not to that extent, anyway.”
“I may have been a little pushy...”
Faye laughed but then spoke in a more serious tone. “There are just too many people that we’ve heard about now that had something against Terry. Too many to believe his death was a chance accident, for sure.”
“Your daughter is adamant that Sheila didn’t kill him.”
“Not directly but what if she had someone else do her dirty work Chloe?”
“Who? Dingy Dale? Art? Rich Johnson? Why would any one of them risk getting caught to off him just for her? What would be in it for them, in that regard? I think, if one of them were going to do it, it would probably be for his own reasons, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, but which one?”
“That, I don’t know.”
“There has to be something Mel’s deputies missed Chloe...there has to be.”
“I hear Dana stirring Faye, I better go...”
“Are you going to be right there?”
“Probably, why?”
“I’ll be by in five minutes to get you.”
We were in Jesse’s truck again. “Where are we headed?” I asked Faye.
“The pond that belongs to Chuck Knox...where Terry died.”
“You know where it is?”
“Sure; when I was a teenager, it was our swimming hole...me and my friends, that is. The Knox family didn’t own it then. Chuck bought the property shortly after he got married and struck his first well.”
“Is everyone in the oil business around here?”
“Oil or natural gas – lots of them are.”
We drove for a few minutes down one dirt road then turned down another that was more dirt track than road and eventually reached a rather large pond set deep in the woods.
“What are we looking for out here?” I asked Faye.
“Something the police missed. Tackle stashed somewhere, for example. They didn’t find any out here. Really though, it’s been years since I’ve been out here. I just kind of wanted to get a feel for it...see what’s plausible.”
“It’s really overgrown all the way around, except on this side.” We were parked on the track along where we’d come into the area of the pond. Other than on this side, where it was fairly smooth over to the bank, there was no real clearing. Everything the rest of the way around was wooded and, in some areas, thick with brush.
“There’s barely enough clear area on this side to turn a vehicle around. It doesn’t seem like Terry would have wandered far from here.”
We got out of the truck and walked over to the bank. The still water of the pond was green with algae but not yet overrun with it. Other than the sound of a few crickets, it was eerily quiet in the area.
“It’s changed a lot since I used to hang out here on summer afternoons,” Faye said. Of course, it’s technically posted as private property now. The family that owned the land back then had kids my age. Big groups of us hung out here. That kept the brush and the algae down.”
The hair stood up on the back of my neck, “I’m getting an odd feeling Faye.”
Before she could even form a reply, we heard a vehicle in the distance. We waited and watched. When it was obvious it had turned up the track to the pond, we retreated back toward the truck for a better view of whatever or whoever was coming.
“It’s probably just Chuck,” Faye said.
A pickup truck, driving slowly, finally came into view.
“Oh, oh. Not good.”
“What? What isn’t good?” I asked.
“It’s Art Majors, of all people.”
Now I shuddered. After our little dust up this morning, I didn’t relish another meeting with the man. “What’s he doing here?”
“He lives maybe a mile from here. He probably has permission to fish here too.”
Art rolled to a stop. I
nstantly, his door flew open and he climbed down out of the truck and strode toward us. Anger flared in his eyes.
“I thought I saw somebody headed down this way. Just what the hell do you too think you’re doing?” He started at Faye intently for a few seconds and then looked me over. “You again! I should have known your nosiness had something to do with this one,” he jabbed a finger toward Faye.”
We stood our ground but he wasn’t backing down either. “You two have no business being out here.”
Faye’s temper flared, “You don’t own the pond Art so back off. I’m just showing my friend here around.”
Art grabbed Faye’s arm. “You aren’t fooling anybody,” he said. “You’re just out here to stick your noses in where they don’t belong! Look, Terry’s death was an accident and it’s better left that way.”
Faye tried to shake her arm loose from his grasp. Failing she said, “You let go of me right now Art Majors or I’ll report you for assault and have Mel look at you real close.”
“For what? For telling you that you two are crazy? Terry’s dead. It wasn’t murder; now drop it and move on and let the rest of us move on too.”
He released Faye and we both scrambled into the truck. Before he could even get seated inside his, Faye was maneuvering Jesse’s Ford to get around Art’s, nearly taking off his still open door in the process, the maneuvering room was so tight.
Majors recovered and got his own vehicle turned around quickly. He followed us back down the dirt track and then onto the dirt road. I shot nervous glances at Faye as she white knuckled the steering wheel.
When we hit the paved road and turned to head to the right, I saw Faye breath a visible sigh of relief when Majors went left. “He must be headed back to his house,” she said.
Faye took us to the farm. When we pulled up, Jesse was standing there watching us climb out of his truck.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Where ‘ya been?” he asked his wife.
We told him all about what happened.
Rather than being sympathetic to our plight, Jesse took Art’s side. “Art and Terry were close until, in Art’s mind, Terry double crossed him. Terry was Art’s only close friend. Art’s been lonely since he stopped paling around with Terry and now that Terry’s gone, there’s no chance to make amends. The man is just feeling sorry for himself. You two just need to leave well enough alone.”
“Jesse,” Faye pleaded, “you had to see the man. He was on fire.”
“I don’t want to hear any more about it, now. Art can be a handful but he would no sooner hurt a flea than hurt Terry, no matter how mad at him he was.”
Jesse turned to me, “I have an errand to run. Hop back in and I’ll run you into town.”
He started around the truck without waiting for an answer. I looked at Faye. She just spread her hands in defeat. I got back into the dusty Ford.
Our short ride into town was a quiet one. As far as Jesse was concerned the case was closed. I wasn’t so sure.
Did Art come out there just to run us off? Why? He wasn’t intending to fish...he didn’t have a fishing pole or any bait or tackle that I could see when we passed by that truck of his getting out of there. What’s he up to?
Chapter 21 – Trash or Treasure
Mama Rossi
Tuesday Morning, October 20th, 2014
“Hi Chloe; Dale Walters from Dale’s Curios. That dry sink is ready to go, finally. I apologize for it taking a little longer than I expected but it’s done now and you can come and pick it up any time. We’re open until 5:00 today. Thanks. We look forward to seeing you.”
In all the hubbub over Terry’s death and his funeral and such, I’d completely forgotten about the dry sink. It hadn’t even occurred to me that it was supposed to have been ready on Friday.
I looked outside and saw that Mel’s truck was in the driveway. She must have driven Dana’s car to work...
“Dana?” I called out from the doorway between the kitchen and the future sitting room, then waited for a response.
“Yes mama,” she answered from somewhere upstairs. I heard footsteps moving toward the top of the steps and then down until she made the turn and stood on the landing where she could see me.
“Sorry to pull you away from whatever you’re working on but, while I was running Little Lady out the guy from a shop just up the road called my cell and left me a message. He has a piece of furniture I ordered for the house ready for pickup. Can you drive Mel’s truck?”
“Yeah, sure I can drive the truck but how big a piece of furniture are we talking about here? Do we need to take muscle with us?”
“They can help us load it there. It’s not too big but it might be heavy for you and I to unload. We might want to wait till later for that.”
Ten minutes later, we were pulling into the dusty, rutted little lot at Dale’s shop. The look on Dana’s face was completely skeptical.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” I told her. “Trust me.”
We wandered inside. The dry sink was sitting near the register area with a little, hand-lettered ‘sold’ sign on it. It looked great.
“This is what we’re here for,” I told my daughter as I ran a hand lovingly across the smooth top. It’s called a dry sink. I thought it would look really nice in the kitchen in that empty corner, under the window.”
Dale appeared from the back while Dana looked it over. She was all smiles as she finished her inspection. “It’s very nice. I think you’ve hit a home run with this one Mama. It will look perfect in that corner.”
Dale introduced himself to Dana while I silently patted myself on the back. I whipped out my bank card to pay the tab but Dana was hearing none of it. She paid for it herself after throwing on another $50 over Dingy’s original quote because she felt, as I did, that the piece and the work he put into it were worth more than what Faye had practically browbeaten out of the man.
Dana helped Dale wrestle the sink onto a dolly then, while she went out to back Mel’s truck up to the loading dock, he and I tried to maneuver it through his jam packed store to the stockroom.
“Whatever made you bring that all the way out into the shop?” I asked him, already frustrated with the effort.
His reply was sheepish, “I actually worked on it out here the night before last because I couldn’t get it back into the back with all the other projects I had to clear out late last week. The wife’s getting a little annoyed with all my mess, you see.”
I can definitely see why... To Dingy, I just nodded.
As we worked the sink through the door into the back area, Dale surprised me with his question, “Was that you and Faye I saw yesterday out the road near the turn off for Knox’s pond?”
“Yesterday? It could have been us out running around. Why do you ask?” My hackles rose but I did my best to keep them in check and to not sound too curious at the same time.
“Oh, I was just out there making a delivery...you know, out that way, and I thought it odd that you ladies were way out there too, is all.”
“I think it odd that you make deliveries and you neglected to tell me that.” I gave him a stern look.
“I wasn’t doing a uh, a shop delivery, see. It was, uh, a personal trip for a, uh friend.” He licked his lips nervously and his eyes darted about, trying to focus anywhere else but on me.
Pam appeared through another door and greeted me. With her present, Dale abruptly stopped talking and started shifting the dry sink toward the loading ramp and the waiting pickup.
“You should have told me we have customers Dale.”
He peered back over his shoulder at his wife, his cheeks tinged red. “It’s no big deal. It’s just a pick-up...already paid for.”
On our way back to the house, Dana remarked, “You really have quite an eye Mama.”
It made me happy to hear her say that and I blushed a little but I tried to be modest, “Thank you sweetie. I try.”
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something...run it b
y you.”
“What’s that dear?”
“You can say no and there’ll be no hard feelings...”
“How can I say no when I don’t even know what we’re talking about?”
“I’m getting to that!” She shot me an exasperated look. “I’m just trying to figure out how to ask.”
“Do you need something Dana?”
“No mama, it’s not for me. It’s for a friend of ours. Do you remember Barb, the woman who catered some of the food for the wedding reception?”
“Yes, Mel’s old friend, right?”
“Right. Well, she’s decided to buy a house in the area and move back here to stay. She’s been moving around the country for a while but this is where she’s from.”
“And she wants my help for something?”
“She told Mel and me that she has some furniture from a house she had before but that it’s not a fit for the style of this house. Wait; I’ll show you.”
Dana took a right on a side street a couple of short blocks up from her own house and pulled into the driveway of a home set back off the road a little ways but still plainly visible. “This will be Barb’s new place.”
“Wow! Very nice. Kind of a colonial style outside. What’s it like inside?”
Dana shrugged. “I have no idea. She’s buying it from one of the big shot oil guys around here and I hear it told he’s into the rustic look but, this was never actually his home. It may be completely empty, even.”
“What you’re telling me is Barb wants help decorating?”
“Yes. Would you be interested; once you’re done with our place, that is?”
“I do enjoy it, don’t get me wrong but...well, I feel like I should get back to your father soon. The get-away has been wonderful but he’s been left to fend for himself and then there’s my nail clients, and your brothers, and my granddaughter...”
“Mama, it’s okay. Just a thought, okay? Maybe, if you are actually interested, you could help out part time, sort of consult with her and come up every other weekend or something. She’s not in a big rush or anything.”
“That’s a thought. I would enjoy it Dana.” I was quiet for several long seconds as Dana reversed out of Barb’s driveway and headed back up the street toward the village’s main road. Realizing I should probably say something, I asked, “When does she need an answer?”