Song of the Road

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Song of the Road Page 21

by Dorothy Garlock


  Mary Lee got the book. “Mr. and Mrs. Sidney Thomas, Amarillo, stayed in number two. They were an older couple going to visit their son in the hospital in Gallup.

  “A Mr. Samuel Cummings was in number three. He’s a salesman for Acme Stove Company out of Dallas, Texas.

  “Number four was rented to a Mr. and Mrs. John Jones. He said he was a banker from Flagstaff, Arizona. But if his name was Jones and he was a banker, I’m a fan dancer. Eli said the couple left while Amos ’n Andy was on. That would have been before ten o’clock.

  “A couple with a baby was in number five. Mr. and Mrs. Richard Johnson. He gave his address as Little Rock, Arkansas, lately of Victorville, California. He said they were going home because his wife was homesick.

  “Jake and his friend, Deke Bales, are in number six.”

  “Humm … Thank you, Mrs. Clawson.”

  Mary Lee sank down in the chair beside the window. Her mind went blank for a time, then came alive with concern for young Eli, who had witnessed such a terrible scene, and for her mother, who was sick in mind as well as body. She went to stand in the bedroom doorway. Dolly lay on the bed, curled on her side with her arms wrapped around her head.

  How much longer before Jake would come home? With all her heart she wished he were here. She hadn’t realized how much she had depended on his quiet strength. Oh, Lord, what if the sheriff thought he had killed Frank!

  “Mary Lee, the doctor and the funeral wagon are here.” Trudy spoke in hushed tones. “The sheriff wants to know if you have a couple of brown paper sacks.”

  “I never throw away a sack. They’re stuffed behind the icebox.”

  Mary Lee followed Trudy out of the house and waited on the porch with Eli while she took the sacks to the sheriff. The long hearse was parked in front of the house. The doctor’s car was behind it. It seemed forever before the sheriff and the undertaker brought Frank’s sheet-wrapped body out on a litter and put it in the back of the hearse.

  Doctor Morris came to the house. “Nasty business,” he said, shaking his head. “Can I trouble you for a place to wash my hands?”

  Mary Lee led the doctor through her bedroom to the bathroom and thanked the good Lord for telling her to clean it that morning and put out clean towels. When the doctor came back to the kitchen where she waited, he was buttoning his shirtsleeves.

  “I was told your mother is sick. Would you like for me to take a look at her?”

  “Yes, please. But, Doctor, first let me warn you. She is very … unpredictable. She may not appreciate our concern and be … mouthy and vulgar.”

  “We’ll not worry about that. How long has she been sick?”

  “She didn’t look well when I came home. She’s really gone downhill lately. She … drinks a lot.”

  “I know that.”

  “Would you mind seeing her alone? I seem to bring out the bad side of her. She may be more cooperative if I’m not in there.”

  “I was going to suggest that.” He went to the door and spoke to Eli. “Son, would you bring me the bag in the front seat of my car?”

  While waiting for Eli, he asked, “How are you doing?”

  “All right. I have some back pain once in a while and my ankles swell if I’m on my feet a lot.”

  “That’s not unusual. Any other near accidents?”

  “No.” She shook her head as she spoke.

  “Is the boy a relative?”

  “He just wandered in. But I want him to stay,” she added quickly. “He’s had no one to care about him until now. I want him to be part of my family.”

  “He’s a big boy. Is he fourteen or fifteen?”

  “Thirteen. I couldn’t run this place without him. I’d trust him with my life and my baby’s. He’s very dear to me.”

  The doctor nodded gravely.

  Eli came to the door with the doctor’s bag. “Mary Lee, the sheriff wants to talk to you when you’re through in here.”

  “All right. If you want anything, Doctor Morris, Eli and Trudy will be here on the porch.” She hesitated, then said, “Please don’t be offended by anything Mama says. She’s not been in her right mind lately.”

  The doctor placed his hand on her shoulder, patted it and went into Dolly’s room and closed the door.

  Mary Lee felt as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders when she stepped off the porch and went to where the sheriff waited for her beside the cabin where Frank had died.

  “As bad as I hate to do this, Mrs. Clawson, I’m going to have to tell you to close the motor court until I can find out if Frank was killed by someone who knew him, or if he was killed by a person who wandered in from the highway and found the cabin door unlocked. I can’t take the chance that whoever did this might try it again and kill someone who was just passing through town.”

  “I was afraid you’d say that. It’ll mean I’ll not have the money to pay back the loan. It’s just not fair. My father worked hard to build this place.”

  “Maybe if you’d have come home sooner —”

  “I couldn’t. I didn’t have the money. I didn’t even know that Daddy had left the motor court to me until I got here. Is there any way we can stay open?”

  “You’re out here without a phone, Mrs. Clawson. I’ve got the whole county to patrol. I can’t leave a man here to watch all night.”

  “Jake is here nights. He’ll watch. Have you checked out his friend, Deke Bales?”

  “I wired Sheriff McChesney over in Beckman County, Oklahoma. He gave him a good reference. He said Bales had a short fuse at times, but was fair and honest as far as he knew. Mrs. Clawson, when word gets out what’s happened out here, it’ll be a three-ring circus. What we’d better do is block off the drive and put out a Closed sign.”

  Mary Lee nodded numbly. “Do you think it was someone roaming the highway?”

  “Or someone here who wanted to get Frank out of your hair. I don’t know what to think at this point. I want to talk to Jake and his friend. I’ve already talked to the boy. I’ve not ruled him out. As soon as the doc gives the word, I’ll try Mrs. Finley again.”

  “How about Frank’s so-called friends? The drunken bums he hangs out with?” Mary Lee said heatedly.

  “See what I mean,” the sheriff said when a car came down the highway and wheeled into the drive. It stopped suddenly, stirring up a cloud of dust. Two men got out.

  “I heard someone murdered poor old Frank Pierce, Sheriff. She do it?” He jerked his head toward Mary Lee. “Godamighty. Feller don’t dare turn his back on a woman these days.”

  “Now he’s ‘poor old Frank.’ When he was alive they probably wouldn’t have given him the time of day,” the sheriff said to Mary Lee. Then, “You’re out of line, Berkhardt. Move along.” When the man lingered, the sheriff said harshly, “Get out of here, or I’ll arrest you for interfering with my crime scene.”

  “Well, shit, Sheriff …” The man got back in his car. “If she did it, she oughta fry the same as a man.”

  “Goddammit, Berkhardt,” the sheriff roared, “get the hell out of here!”

  The car stirred up another cloud of dust when it left.

  “Where’s the boy?”

  “His name is Eli,” Mary Lee said in a small voice.

  Eli came when the sheriff called him. “Are there saw-horses around here or anything we can use to block the drive?”

  “No, sir. But there’s a couple of barrels and some rope we can tie strings onto. Will that do?”

  “That’ll do fine. Let’s get it up.”

  “Are we closed?” Eli asked Mary Lee.

  “For a while.”

  “Trudy will paint a sign, Sheriff. I have a board we can nail to one of the barrels.”

  “That’s good thinkin’, boy. Let’s set up the barrels first.” Eli basked in the sheriff’s praise. In less than ten minutes, the barrels were up, the rope strung, and Trudy was tying strings of cloth on the rope. When a car full of gawkers attempted to come into the drive, the sheriff waved it off. N
ot to be turned away so easily, the driver parked alongside the highway, and several men got out.

  “What happened, Pleggenkuhle? We heard Frank Pierce was murdered out here. Know who done it?”

  “Frank was killed and I don’t know who did it … yet.”

  “Jake Ramero lives out here, don’t he? Well … what more do you want? How about the little bitch who tried to ruin Frank’s cockadoodle? Don’t seem to me it’s goin’ to be hard to find out who done it.”

  The sheriff turned his back and walked away.

  “Sheriff, if ya need a posse, count me in. Hey, is that the doc’s car? What’s he doin’ here? Don’t tell me he come to court old Dolly. Haw, haw, haw!”

  “Jehoshaphat!” Sheriff Pleggenkuhle snorted. “Some folks got about as much brains as cow dung when something like this happens.”

  A deputy pulled up to the rope blocking the drive, got out and went around the barrels.

  “I was on the other side of the county when I got the word. Santez didn’t say why I was needed, but I stopped at the office and found out. It’s all over town that Frank Pierce was murdered out here.”

  “We’re going to have some trouble with sightseers. There hasn’t been a murder here in more than five years. Keep an eye out and don’t let anyone in. I need to talk to the doc.”

  Chapter 20

  WORK CEASED AT QUITMAN’S RANCH early on Saturday, giving the men time to clean up before heading to town. Jake drove into town with Deke, who had been working on a motor for Mr. Quitman while Jake put the horses he was training through their routine, and they headed for the Red Pepper Corral.

  There were a number of people on the street, but it was not unusual for Saturday. Jake flung open the door, and Deke preceded him into the cool interior of the building. Before they reached the stools in front of the bar, they were met by three men who had leaped from their chairs at a nearby table the instant the pair entered.

  One of them was Yancy Hummer, who charged forth with all the agility and temperament of a bull whose tail had just been twisted. On his right was a thin man with ferret eyes and the sharp, pointed face of a fox. The other man stood six feet two inches and weighed well over two hundred fifty pounds.

  “Ya … murderin’ bastard!” Yancy shouted. He was practically foaming at the mouth. “You son of a whore! Shit-eatin’ Mex bastard!”

  “Whoa, now, son.” Deke was a couple of steps ahead of Jake. “Watch yore mouth.”

  “Shut yores, ya pig-ugly little turd. Get the hell outta the way unless this son of a bitch is gonna let ya do his fightin’ for him.” With a stiffened arm, he shoved Deke aside and turned on Jake. “Guess ya think screwin’ that little bitch’ll get ya the motor court. Nobody but a dirty, low-down half-breed would go where another man’s already plowed the field and planted a kid.”

  “You worthless piece of shit! You’re not fit to speak her name.” Jake muttered a string of obscenities beneath his breath, took two steps and swung.

  His rock-hard fist caught Yancy full in the mouth, smashing his lips against teeth. Yancy staggered back, then regained his balance and plunged forward, throwing wild punches. One caught Deke and sent him rolling. Quick and agile as a cat, Deke was on his feet. He lowered his head and drove it into Yancy’s gut.

  The big man stepped in and sent a hamlike fist toward Jake’s head, connecting solidly with his right eye. The blow spun Jake around, and for a second or two he saw stars. His head cleared just in time for him to suck in his midsection before the ferret-faced man took a swipe at it with a long, slim two-edged knife. Enraged now, he kicked the arm holding the knife, sending the blade sliding across the floor, then gave Ferret-face a quick chop in the Adam’s apple with the edge of his hand. The knifer toppled into a table, then onto a chair, which crashed to the floor.

  Jake came around to see that the big man, who outweighed Deke by a hundred pounds and was a foot taller, had backhanded him with no more regard than if he were a pesky fly, sending him crashing against the bar. Deke lay in a heap on the floor.

  Fearing for his friend, Jake focused on the man who was crouched in an attack stance. He put up his fists to distract him, then swung his booted foot. He viciously caught the man in the crotch with the toe of his boot. The pain was so severe it stunned him. His mouth opened, closed. His eyes crossed. Then he clutched the injured area between his legs and dropped to his knees. His stomach heaved, and he went over face-first in a puddle of vomit.

  Jake and Yancy, the only two left standing on their feet, squared off only to have Paco dive between them, swinging the sap.

  “Get the hell out of my place, Yancy, and take these sorry curs with you. Don’t ever come back.”

  “Ya takin’ the side of a damn half-breed killer.”

  “Get out, Yancy! I mean now.” A murmur of protest rose from the crowd gathered around. “That goes for the rest of you if you’ve no more brains than to listen to this brayin’ jackass yammer ’bout somethin’ he knows nothin’ about.” Paco’s eyes swept over the group, which quieted instantly.

  Jake went over to help Deke get to his feet. The little man’s mouth and nose were bleeding.

  “Don’t you know any better than to tackle a man twice your size?”

  “Shit. He wasn’t that big.”

  Jake’s eye was rapidly swelling shut. He dug money out of his pocket and held it out to Paco.

  “Sorry about breaking the chair.”

  “Keep your money.” Paco went to the big man, who was now on his hands and knees, rocking back and forth like a stunned ox. He leaned down and took several dollars from his pocket. “That’s to pay for cleaning up this mess.” He took a bill from the ferret-faced man, then held his hand out to Yancy. “Pay up or your ass will be in jail before you can say Jack Robinson.”

  “Wait till the men at the ranch hear whose side you took in this. Lon will fix you. You’ll wish to hell ya’d done different when you’ve got to close this place down.” Yancy took a silver dollar from his pocket and slapped it into Paco’s hand.

  “Get out! I’ll not have brawlin’ or the soilin’ of a good woman’s name in my place.”

  “What the hell got into him all of a sudden?” Jake asked when the door slammed behind Yancy and his two friends.

  “You haven’t heard the news?”

  “We just came in from Quitman’s.”

  “Frank Pierce was murdered in his bed last night out at the court. The whole town’s in an uproar about it.”

  “Madre de Dios!” Jake’s mind scrambled for comprehension. He stared at Paco as if transfixed. Then words burst from him. “Who did it? How?” He grabbed his hat up off the floor.

  “All I know is that he was let out of jail in the morning and someone slit his throat and buried a broken bottle in it last night at the motor court.”

  “Mrs. Clawson? Is she all right?”

  “As far as I know. The sheriff’s out there. They closed the place down.”

  “Thanks, Paco. I’ve got to go. Deke, are you all right?” “Hell. It’d take more’n that tub of lard to lay me low.” Holding a handkerchief to his nose, Deke slammed his hat down on his head and hurried out the door, trying to keep up with Jake’s long legs.

  Eli and Trudy cleaned the four cabins, locked the doors and hung the keys on the Peg-Board in the kitchen. Mary Lee had been in and out of her mother’s room all afternoon.

  The doctor had given Dolly something to make her sleep, and Mary Lee had taken the opportunity to clean the room, which was cluttered with trash and dirty clothes. Dishes from the kitchen had been shoved under the bed after Dolly had eaten the food she brought to her room. Mary Lee swept the floor and wiped months of dust from the furniture with a damp cloth. Trudy, standing on a chair, washed the windows on the outside while Mary Lee washed them on the inside.

  Keeping busy helped to keep panic at bay. She tried not to think that if she was forced to keep the motor court closed for more than a couple of days, she would be unable to pay the bank the full amo
unt owed by October 1. She had no doubt that Mr. Rosen, the banker, would foreclose and do so gleefully.

  There would be the added expense of her mother’s illness. The doctor had explained that there were so many things wrong with Dolly that it was a miracle she had remained on her feet for the past few days. Her heartbeat was faint and irregular; her blood pressure was soaring; her kidneys were failing. He had found pockets of water in several places beneath her skin. All this combined with the run-down condition of her body made it almost certain that her illness was terminal.

  “Her heart could fail at any time. The best we can do is to keep her as comfortable as we can,” the doctor had said. “Try to get her to eat when she wakes up later this evening. I’ll stop back in the morning.”

  “She’ll ask me for whiskey. She did this morning.”

  “If she asks again, give it to her. She’s so far gone that it won’t make any difference now.”

  “I don’t have any.”

  “I’ll bring some when I come again.”

  The sheriff had left a deputy to turn away gawkers while he made a trip back to his office. He was anxious to talk to Dolly and was disappointed that the doctor had given her a shot that put her to sleep.

  Mary Lee was in the kitchen when she heard the slamming of a car door. She went to the front door to see Jake’s truck parked along the highway and him striding toward the house. He passed the deputy with only a nod of greeting. Deke was doing his best to keep up with him. Mary Lee met him at the door and drew him into the house, out of the watchful eye of the deputy.

  “Heavens!” she exclaimed when she saw Deke’s bloody nose and Jake’s eye rapidly swelling shut.

  Deke went through the house and out to the pump.

  “What happened to you two?”

  Jake put his hands on her shoulders and peered down into her face with his one good eye.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Um-huh. A lot has happened since you left this morning.” In spite of her vow not to do so, tears filled her eyes.

  Jake pulled her to him as if he had every right, wrapped his arms around her and held her protectively against him. His lips caressed her forehead; his hand moved soothingly up and down her back.

 

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