Hutchins Creek Cache

by Deborah Garner

  “Jesse,” Rose said. “Dad meant well. He just didn’t have...fashion sense.”

  A ripple of laughter around the table followed Rose’s comment.

  “Isn’t that the truth,” Jesse laughed. “He was a good man, loved that museum. We had to mark those sweatshirts down so low we practically gave them away. In fact, I think we did give them away; we donated them to a thrift shop when the new ones came in.”

  Rose stood and began to clear the table, turning down offers of help. Whisking the dinner dishes into the kitchen, she returned with dessert plates and forks, followed by pecan pie. Jake and Jesse accepted slices, Paige turned the pie down, and Tommy asked for two pieces, triggering more laughter. After a round of coffee and words of thanks to Rose, Henry left to walk with Stephen. Tommy and Sam headed to the front parlor to play a board game. Jesse insisted that since he was Rose’s actually family, she should let him help clean up. Paige and Jake took their coffee out to the gazebo.

  “What a long day,” Paige said, settling comfortably into Jake’s arms, hands wrapped around the mug of French roast. She drew the coffee in close to her chest, feeling its warmth mix with that of Jake’s embrace. A crescent moon looked down through branches of quaking aspen, and a light breeze flowed through the leaves. It was as if the world were rustling.

  “An excellent day,” Jake replied. He held his own coffee in his free hand and rubbed Paige’s shoulder with the other. His fingers trailed upward to her neck and lightly brushed her earlobe. Paige shivered at his touch.

  “Are you cold?”

  Paige smiled and buried her head against Jake’s chest. “You know I’m not.”

  “Ah,” Jake teased. “You admit I have an effect on you. What caused that sweet reaction? Was it this?” He traced his fingers along her neck again.

  “I suppose…” Paige said, trying to sound indifferent, though she heard her voice waiver.

  “Or maybe it’s something more like this.” Jake set his coffee down on the small gazebo table and leaned closer to Paige, his lips softly caressing the side of her neck.

  “Maybe…something…like…that...” Paige whispered.

  “Or how’s this?”

  Jake lifted Paige’s coffee mug from her hands and placed it on the table, next to his. Cupping her face with both hands, he kissed each eyelid and then let his lips travel to her mouth. Paige melted into the passion as his kiss deepened. He slipped his arms down her back and under her T-shirt, his determined hands flowing over her bare skin. Paige marveled at his touch – so strong, yet so gentle.

  At the sound of hushed voices, Paige and Jake detached from each other and tried to regain their composure. Since dark was falling quickly now, the couple couldn’t quite see who approached, though it was most likely Stephen and Henry returning from their walk. But the discussion did not sound friendly.

  Paige touched Jake’s arm, a silent plea for him to remain quiet. She leaned forward, attempting to hear even part of the conversation, but the voices were too muffled. Soon the two figures disappeared along the side of the inn.

  “What do you make of that?” Paige whispered.

  “Beats me. You’re the resident eavesdropping expert,” Jake said. He squeezed Paige’s hand so she’d know he was teasing. “My guess would be Stephen and Henry.”

  “That’s my guess, too, but why would they be arguing? They seemed fine at dinner.”

  “Maybe they disagreed about favorite sports teams, or they might have gotten into a political discussion during their walk. That’ll do it for a lot of people.”

  Paige shook her head. “No, it’s something more.”

  They heard a door close. Paige waited to see if the two figures would reappear. Instead, just one figure walked back to the street and turned down the block. An engine fired up shortly afterwards, and soon a car passed by, turned a corner and drove away. From the gazebo, Paige couldn’t see the car very well. But she saw it well enough to know it was tan.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Paige picked up a sweet potato fry and waved it in the air as she spoke. To other diners at the Rail Café, she might have looked like she was conducting a lunch symphony. For Paige, the discussion was serious. For Jake, it provided a perfect opportunity to joke.

  “So, two men walked into a bar…”

  “Jake, be serious.”

  “You be serious,” he laughed. “You’re the one waving a French fry around.”

  Paige put the fry down and leaned forward, lowering her voice. “Two men walked out of the house. Two men walked back in. Then only one walked out.”

  “You have to admit that sounds like a riddle.”

  “Jake,” Paige warned.

  “Right,” Jake said. “That’s what I saw, too.”

  “Stephen and Henry are the two who walked out, after dinner.”

  “Yes, at least they’re the two who said they were going out.” Jake lifted his bottle of beer, took a drink, and set the bottle back on the table. He wrapped his hands around his Boxcar Burger and took a bite. Paige had to give him credit for being patient. She’d talked through the scenario half a dozen times already.

  “Then it would seem logical that Stephen and Henry were the two who walked back in.”

  “Agreed,” Jake said between bites.

  “But only one came back out, and I’m telling you it had to be Chancy Conroy.”

  “Because of the car that drove away,” Jake said. “But you can’t be sure it was his car. It was almost dark and the street lights aren’t that bright. Maybe you saw Lulu.”

  “Wrong shape and color. Just stay with me here,” Paige said. “Let’s assume for a minute it was Chancy. That means one of the men who walked out didn’t come back.”

  Jake nodded. “Or only one walked out originally. They both said they were going out walking, but we didn’t actually watch them walk away. Maybe one decided not to go.”

  “But which one?” Paige’s exasperated tone underscored her frustration.

  “I have no idea,” Jake said.

  “And how did Chancy end up here, anyway?” Paige continued. “I’m telling you, he’s after the coins. You saw his reaction to that single coin. I’ll bet he thinks the rest are here somewhere, and he’s working with one of the other guys to find them.”

  “That means you think he’s connected somehow to either Henry or Stephen.”

  “Maybe,” Paige said. “Or he’s trying to get information from them. Or access to the museum, or something like that. Whoever just met with Chancy might not even know what he’s after. He struck me as the sneaky type right from the beginning.”

  “I agree with you about that,” Jake said. “I disliked the guy immediately. But the person we just saw leave the inn may not be Chancy.”

  Paige ignored this, took a sip of iced tea, and continued. “Rose is the one who recommended we go see Chancy originally. Stephen was there and overheard that. Maybe he already knew Chancy. He could have been with him last night.”

  “Maybe,” Jake said. “Or that could be coincidence. If Chancy thinks you can lead him to the coins, he’s going to look for you, and Hutchins Creek is a logical place for you to be. He might just be after information. Maybe he bumped into Stephen and Henry by chance. It could be that one of the guys came back early, and we didn’t notice, since we were…”

  “Otherwise occupied?” Paige smiled, remembering the affectionate moments in the gazebo the night before. Anyone could have walked past without them noticing.

  “Exactly.”

  “One way or another, there’s an intricate connection between some of these people,” Paige said.

  “How do you figure that?”

  Both paused as the server refilled Paige’s iced tea and offered Jake another beer, which he declined. Paige thanked the server and turned back to Jake.

  “Take Stephen and Chancy, for example. Rose suggested we go to Chancy to help us identify the coin. Stephen did seem interested in the coin. Maybe he’s a coin collector. He might alr
eady know Chancy.”

  “OK, so you’re saying they may know each other, even though Stephen didn’t let on?” Jake said. “Sort of a long shot, Paige. You don’t have any evidence of this.”

  “No, at least not yet,” Paige agreed. “Then there’s Henry and Chancy.”

  “Do they even know each other?” Jake asked. “Neither one has mentioned the other, unless you’ve heard something I haven’t.”

  “Good point. But it doesn’t mean they don’t know each other. You know how it is in small towns and surrounding areas.”

  “True. I suppose anyone could know anyone.”

  “So that brings us back to Henry and Stephen.” Paige paused. “Stephen is a regular guest at the inn, and Henry does a lot of shuttle service for Rose. I suspect he does other small tasks around the inn, too.”

  “Right. So they know each other, but probably just as acquaintances. Henry would know any regular visitors.”

  “Yes, but does he go for walks with other guests?” Jake took another bite of his burger and waited for Paige’s response.

  “Maybe, maybe not. But we still don’t know they’re the two who took that walk together last night. Maybe Jesse didn’t stay to help Rose clean up. For all we know, Henry may have offered to stay after you and I headed for the gazebo, which means Jesse might have stepped out with Stephen instead. That could make sense. Stephen is a regular visitor and strong supporter of the museum. He and Tommy spend a lot of time there when he’s in town. It stands to reason they’d be friends with Jesse.”

  Paige leaned back and sighed, switching the subject.

  “It’ll be nice when that train car gets fixed up,” Paige said. “It’s sad to see it in such terrible condition when the model inside looks so nice.”

  “It makes sense it would be in rough shape after all this time sitting there.”

  “Yes, but I’ve been thinking about a couple of the scratches. Now that I’ve seen them a few times, they look deliberate, as if someone purposely etched them with a rock.”

  “Sounds like something any troubled teen might do,” Jake pointed out. “You’re talking about graffiti?”

  “Not really graffiti, at least not the kind we’d see in a city. More like this.” Paige pulled a napkin from a stack on the table, took a pen out of her purse and drew three diagonal lines. She turned the sketch toward Jake and watched as he picked it up and studied it.

  “Where did you find the marks? On what part of the car?”

  Paige thought back to her most recent inspection of The Morning Star. “They’re on the sides, very low. Why would that matter?”

  “On both sides?”

  “Yes, now that you mention it.”

  After Jake finished studying lines on the napkin, he set it down. “It’s just a guess, but I’d say those are hobo codes.”

  “Hobo codes? What on earth does that mean?”

  “It’s something I learned from my uncle, the one who worked on the Transcontinental line. He told me about how the hobos who ride the rails use codes to communicate with and pass on information to each other. They mark signs, mailboxes, curbs or other landmarks to let others know if, for example, an occupant in a particular house is friendly and won’t turn them away. Or they may mark places where travelers can find medical help. That sort of thing.”

  “Then what would this one mean?”

  “If I’m not mistaken, a code with three diagonal lines indicates an unsafe area.”

  “So, on a train car, that would be a message to stay away from that car?”

  “Seems right.”

  “That means someone felt The Morning Star was too dangerous to board.”

  Paige folded the napkin, stretched sideways and slipped it into her jeans pocket. “Let’s go to the museum to talk to Jesse. He might know more about this.”

  Nodding, Jake finished his last bite and dropped enough bills on the table to cover the check and a tip. He followed Paige out the door.

  * * *

  When Paige and Jake arrived at the museum, it was empty of customers. Jesse was not at the front counter, though they could hear him on the phone in the back office. With the echoing acoustics of the empty building, his voice was clear; he was placing an order to restock model railroad supplies. Paige wandered to the back door and smiled when she saw Sam playing in the miniature train yard. The birdbath looked newly filled, and, from the gleam in the water, it appeared the replica coin was getting its daily cleaning.

  “Nice to see you two,” Jesse said as he emerged from the office, clad in his usual engineer’s outfit. “Out enjoying the weather today?”

  “Absolutely,” Jake said, “along with a Boxcar Burger at the Rails Café.”

  “I hear you there,” Jesse said. “That’s my favorite item on their menu.”

  “Well, it doesn’t match your sister’s cooking, but that would be hard to do.” Jake patted his stomach with a grin of satisfaction.

  “No argument with that,” Jesse agreed. “We all come running when Rose gets busy in the kitchen. She put on a fine feast last night.”

  “Are you men talking about food, by any chance?” Paige laughed as she walked from the back door to the counter. The boys nodded. “I can’t blame you, not after that meal Rose served last night. I’m still full. I should have taken a walk after dinner, like you guys did.”

  “I wish I had, too,” Jesse said, nodding. “I would have worked off more of the pecan pie if I’d walked than I did helping Rose with dishes. But I don’t like leaving her with all the cleanup. She works hard enough running the inn.”

  “You’re a good brother,” Paige said lightly. She and Jake exchanged glances. Jesse had answered her hidden question.

  “Oh, Jesse,” Paige added casually, “I wanted to ask you a question that came up while I was doing research for my article.” Not entirely true, Paige thought, but not entirely a lie. “I came across some references to hobos hopping trains. Do you ever see any of that activity around here?”

  “No, not along this stretch of tracks. This line ends at Silverton, so there’s no place for them to go from there. A hobo’s aim is to travel,” Jesse said. “Trains don’t run into Durango, either, so this is an isolated line. And this line only runs passenger trains now. Hobos usually hop freight cars.”

  “Did they ever run freight trains through here? Or any other type of car?” Paige almost cringed at her weak attempt to pull more information from Jesse. She already knew the Durango-Silverton line had been used to transport ore from the local area to smelters. But Jesse didn’t necessarily know what she knew.

  “Sure,” Jesse said. “Coal cars, mainly. Someone could hop one of those. But that would have been years ago when the line still connected over to Alamonito. Those tracks are long gone. So, no, I haven’t seen any train hopping here. Dad did, though, back when he worked the stretch from Alamonito to Durango.”

  “Your dad was Jerome, right?”

  “Yep.” Jesse nodded. “He used to tell us stories about scaring the hobos away. Can’t say if they were true or not. He had a tendency to exaggerate, and he loved to spin a good tale. But he could be gruff and territorial, so I don’t doubt he objected to freeloaders.”

  The front door opened, and Jesse called a friendly greeting to the small group of visitors who’d entered.

  “I’m heading outside to say hello to Sam.” Paige nodded toward the back door.

  “I’ll join you,” Jake said, following Page out to the yard.

  Sam waved to Paige and Jake as they approached. “Did you come to see my bird? It’s taking a bath.”

  “I see that.” Paige smiled.

  Sam brushed dirt off her hands and reached into the water, holding up her prized possession.

  “It looks nice and clean, Sam. Good job.” Jake said as he leaned down, eye level with the coin. As usual, Paige noticed the smooth fit of his shirt and jeans over his body as he moved. Somehow he looked especially attractive while engaged in the relaxed conversation with the young gi
rl. I love how wonderful he is with children, Paige thought.

  Leaving Jake and Sam in an animated conversation about her “special treasure,” Paige wandered over to The Morning Star. She spotted the three diagonal lines that she and Jake had discussed at lunch. Circling the car, she looked more closely at the matching mark on the back, scratched into the lower edge. The front and back etchings were unmistakably the same.

  “Definitely hobo code.” Jake surprised her since she hadn’t heard him walk up behind her. She stood quickly and turned to face him, finding he’d backed her up suspiciously close to the side of the train car.

  “What’s that rule on personal space?” she teased. “Three feet away? Isn’t that what they say?” She glanced around each of Jake’s shoulders, confirming that no one was watching. “Or was that…three inches away?” Slyly, she grasped his shirt with both hands and pulled him closer.

  “I think I’ll go with the second rule,” Jake said. “Though I think that’s still a bit conservative.” Playfully, he removed Paige’s hands from his shirt and pressed against her, delivering a soft, yet passionate, kiss. Just as quickly, he stepped back grinning, nearly causing her to slide down the side of the train.

  “Um… so, hobo code, you were saying…” Paige turned back toward the markings as she attempted to regain her breath. She leaned down to look at them again.

  “Yes, I think someone put those marks there as a warning to stay away from the car,” Jake said, inspecting the etched lines more carefully. “Maybe that’s not a bad idea. It seems like you’re falling into uncertain territory here.”

  “Uncertain territory seems to be a specialty of mine, particularly lately.” Paige didn’t dare look at Jake, knowing he was likely to catch the double meaning.

  “Only uncertain if you want it that way,” Jake said, running his fingers through her hair.