“Are you buying?”
“I have a buyer in mind. But it would be a rush job.”
“Rushing is not what we do.”
“But if you could be persuaded to?”
“Two days, but I wouldn’t be responsible for the outcome.”
“Do it.”
“You want me to…It will not be very good as a collectable.”
“As long as it looks like this one in the dark, old and expensive.”
“In the dark? It will.”
“Then, do it.”
Chapter Nine
Ike placed the icon on the back seat of his unmarked police pursuit Ford Crown Victoria. A reluctant Dakis had relinquished it to his care and then only after swathing it in double layers of bubble wrap. If Ike had indeed seen what he thought he’d seen on its varnished surface, he’d need to call the CIA. He did not want to do that. Every time he found himself involved with his former employer, things seemed to come apart. But there was that worrisome thing on the icon’s surface. Who employed outdated spycraft these days? He’d call Charlie and ask. Charlie owed him a favor for ruining Ike’s last, and only, vacation. Charlie could send someone down to have a look. Charlie Garland was not on his speed dial, but he knew the number.
“Garland. Is that you, Ike?”
“You know it is. You must have industrial strength caller ID which can crack my blocked number, and I suspect you’ve picked up the GPS signal as well. You know who and where I am.”
“Not on a personal call. This is a personal call, isn’t it? I thought you said you were never going to call me again. Washed your hands and all that, or am I misremembering?”
“I didn’t say that. I said I hoped I never had to call you again, and no, this is not personal, I’m afraid.”
“What’s up?”
“I need you to send a tech down here and look at a painting. Make it someone who’s been around a while and will recognize out-of-date spycraft.”
“Do you want to tell me what this is about?”
“I have a murder. You may have a problem.”
“That’s it?”
“It will have to do. Your man, or woman, will fill you in, if and when.”
“I’ll call you. Can’t get anybody down there before Wednesday or Thursday.”
“Try to make it sooner, Charlie. We have a civilian, at least I think he’s a civilian, at risk here. Why don’t you come yourself? I’ll buy you lunch, show you the mountains. Too soon for much in the way of flowers, but the forsythia is out. You’ve never been here.”
“I’ll see. Wait for my call.”
Ike had snapped the phone closed when it buzzed.
“Ike? Is that you?” Abe Schwartz shouted. He used the phone as if no important technological advances had occurred since the demise of manual dials and operators saying “number please.” The voice with a smile.
“It’s me, Pop. What’s up?”
“Up? Nothing’s up, Ike. But I was thinking if you ain’t ate yet I was wondering if you were free for dinner.”
“No, I haven’t eaten. I was on my way to do that. Why?”
“Why? Because I asked you is why.”
“I mean, what’s the occasion? You almost never ask me to eat out with you. No offense, but we don’t break bread except on rare weekends and holidays, and then out at the farm. I ask you but…” Ike left the remainder of the sentence unsaid.
“This is different. I want you to meet someone.”
“This isn’t one of your moves to get me into politics again, is it?”
“No. No sirree. This here is different, way different.”
“How is it way different?”
“Ike you have become very suspicious. It don’t become you. If I say it ain’t politics, it ain’t. So, can you come?”
“Okay. I know I will kick myself later, but I’ll come. Where and when?”
“I’m figuring seven this evening—that’s an hour from now, so’s you’ll have time to make yourself presentable and all. Put on a coat and tie. And, say, how’s about you ask your lady to join us.”
“My lady? You mean Ruth. I can ask but, on short notice the chances of her being free are pretty slim. Why Ruth?”
“I’m thinking another woman might make it easier. You call her and try. Either way, I’ll see you at Frank’s at seven this evening.” Abe hung up. Ike stared at the phone in his hand.
Another woman?
He speed-dialed Ruth at her office. No answer. He tried her home number. She picked up on the third ring.
“Hello, Blocked Number, what can I do for you?”
“I had a call from Abe. He wants me to join him for dinner, and he asked if you could come too. Have you eaten yet?”
“No, as a matter of fact, I haven’t. I was about to heat up a can of soup and make myself a grilled cheese. Why does he want me to join him?”
“He didn’t say. But he did drop that having ‘another woman’ might help. What does that mean?”
“My, my, it looks like Abe has got himself a girlfriend. He wants me there to kick you under the table if you misbehave.”
“Girlfriend? Abe is on the wrong side of seventy. If he has company, it sure won’t be a girl. And shame on you for using a diminutive. What happened to your determined-at-any-cost-to-rein-in-sexism spirit?”
“Like you care. It’s a figure of speech that is appropriate and fitting for geriatric couples.”
“You think Abe has a friend?”
“My guess? Yes. Is that a problem for you? It is for some men. They get all mushy about their parents having a life outside of the one they’ve cast them in. That your problem, Bunky?”
“What? No. He wants you there to shield me from saying something stupid?”
“He knows I can make you behave. He thinks I can make you jump through hoops. I can, too.”
“When have you ever made me do something merely on your whim?”
“Plenty of times, Sweetheart.”
“Name one,”
“What was the first thing I asked you to do Saturday night after the lights were turned down low?”
Ike started the car and put it into gear. The evening had turned cool and he hit the switches to raise the windows. “That doesn’t qualify.”
“No? Explain to me why it doesn’t.”
“It happens that I am very fond of plum sauce.”
“I would say under the circumstances, very fond doesn’t cover it. You—”
“Can you come or not? I need to get back to my cave, change into something normal, and meet Abe at seven.”
“Where is this confrontation supposed to take place?”
“Frank’s. I can pick you up about ten ’til.”
“I’ll come. I wouldn’t miss this for a million dollars. I’ll drive myself, though. I have things I must do tonight before the faculty senate meeting tomorrow morning. If I get in the car with you I may never get home.”
“Nonsense. I’ll take you straight home—unless you’re packing plum sauce. Then I will not be responsible for my actions.”
“There, you see? I can make you jump through hoops.”
“You are an evil woman, and you will pay for this. The day will come when you run out of M&Ms, and I will be there with a quart of chocolate sauce. Then we will see who has power over whom. Ha.”
“I’ll meet you at Frank’s. And don’t wear the purple tie with the ducks on it. It makes you look dopey.”
“I’ll wear the one with the plum sauce stains on it.”
“That’s not where I remember the stains were. See ya.”
Ike closed his phone and concentrated on his driving. Abe with a lady friend. How did he feel about that? His mother had died over a year ago. Abe had not taken it very well, even though the disease that took her had been drawn out. It still took a while to get used to the silence. Why shouldn’t Abe have a girlfriend, or two or even three? He liked the larger number b
etter, he decided. Less chance of a permanent attachment.
Another woman.
Chapter Ten
A cool Monday evening, breezy and who knew, perhaps a hint of snow, certainly possible in the Shenandoah Valley in early March, rare, but possible. The custom was light at Frank’s. If Ike trusted his olfactory senses correctly, tonight’s special would be roast beef. It was the only dish Frank’s served that had been edible in the restaurant’s previous manifestation as Chez François. Ike spotted Abe at a corner table. Alone. Something not right with this picture. He’d expected Abe to be seated with an elderly matron. He’d scoured his brain to turn up likely candidates. He couldn’t quite bring himself to say “lovers,” and even “girlfriends” stuck in his throat. He walked to the table, pulled up a chair, and sat. Abe was deep in conversation with the mayor and his wife at an adjoining table. Ike acknowledged the mayor and waited.
“I’m here, Pop, and Ruth is on her way. Where is the person I’m supposed to meet? You weren’t stood up. Were you?” Ike almost hoped it was true.
“Stood up? No sirree. In the little girl’s room is where, powdering her nose. Be out directly. I was telling the mayor here he ought to think about finding something for you to do after your term as sheriff is up.”
Ike sighed, an intentionally audible one. “Pop, you promised me no politics. I’m leaving.”
“Sit still for a minute, Ike. Land sakes, I’m just saying.”
“I could run for reelection, you know. And besides, the mayor has candidates for office ready to pounce at a moment’s notice. He doesn’t need my name added to the list.”
“Law enforcement is a waste of your God-given talents, and that’s the truth. Ain’t that right?” He turned to the mayor for support. He, in turn, smiled and shrugged. Ike took the gesture as polite but noncommittal. “Ah, here she is.” Abe stood and turned toward the rear of the restaurant. Ike stood as well and looked in the same direction.
“Aunt Dolly,” he said.
“My, there you are, Ike. It’s been dog’s years. How are you keeping yourself? My, and you remembered my nickname. Bless you.”
“How could I forget?”
Dolly Frankenfeld had been his mother’s best friend in the years Abe served in various elective offices in the state. The Schwartzes kept a house in Richmond and spent weekends on the farm in the valley. Dolly became Ike’s adopted auntie when her inability to have children of her own had been confirmed.
“See, there she is.” Abe gushed. Like a school boy, Ike thought. “Ain’t she something?”
“You’re looking fine, Aunt Dolly.”
“Tush, I bet you say that to all the ladies.”
“In the past, I confess. Not often lately.”
“Ike has himself a lady, too.” Abe winked.
“So I hear. Are we going to meet her?”
“She’s on her way. So, how did you and…” Ike wasn’t at all sure how to proceed. Hook up seemed a little too modern, and he didn’t like its implications. Meet was a given.
“You want to know what I’m doing here in this restaurant on a Monday night instead of back home in Richmond watching TV?”
“I was up to a meeting in the governor’s office a while back,” Abe interrupted, “and there was this dinner afterwards. I told you all about that meeting, but you probably forgot. Anyway, Dolly was there and we got to reminiscing and such and one thing led to another…”
Ike noticed Dolly blushed at one thing led to another. Oh, my God.
“You know, my Murray died about the same time as your mother, Ike. Your father invited me down for the weekend. You know, in all the years I knew you all, I never got to the valley to visit. So, now here I am.”
Dolly sat straight and very ladylike, hands folded in her lap, ankles crossed. She had been taught that as a child and had been sitting on chairs, benches, sofas, and settees like that for over sixty years. All she needed was a hat with a little veil and white gloves, and it could be 1959. Ike struggled to find words to fill the silence that descended around the table like a heavy fog. Abe was oblivious to it and sat with adoring, puppy eyes fixed on Dolly.
As Ike steeled himself to raise the topic of the weather, always a safe conversational filler and diversion, a gambit to kill time, Ruth arrived. The two men stood. Ruth was introduced to Dolly and the three sat.
“Ike never told me he had an aunt.”
“She’s not—”
“I’m not—” They both began and stopped.
“Ike, you first. We’ll check your version with Aunt Dolly after.”
“Dolly, Mrs. Frankenfeld, is…was my mother’s friend…best friend…for years when we stayed in Richmond. She is an honorary aunt, you could say.”
Dolly nodded her head. “It’s so nice to meet you, Miz Harris; oops, Doctor Harris. I understand there might be a little announcement coming from you and Ike pretty soon.”
Ruth screwed up her face in a puzzled frown, the Popeye look. “Announcement? I’m not sure what that would be.”
“Oh, I understood you and Ike were very close. That sort of announcement.”
“Oh that, yes, ah…” Ruth shifted her frown from puzzlement to concentration. “Okay, so, I am not pregnant. Is that what you had in mind?”
“Oh, no, I mean of course you aren’t, why would you be? I mean…mercy.”
Ike tapped Ruth’s ankle under the table with his shoe and muttered “Behave!” out of the corner of his mouth.
Ruth smiled. Pure innocence. Ike groaned. He recognized the look. He’d seen it hundreds of times. Ruth was on a roll.
“And you, Dolly, do you and Abe have an announcement to share, too?” Ike kicked her harder. “Ow!”
“An announcement, why. . .” Dolly’s blush started at the neckline of her dress and advanced like the red tide up to and past her hair line. “No, I don’t think so. Do we, Abe?” Abe had a coughing fit.
“No, sir. I mean…no. So, how have you been, Ruth? Busy up at the college, I reckon.” Abe looked at his son, who fixed on Ruth a look that qualified as one that could kill or at least maim.
“Wine,” Ike said. “Frank has a very nice wine selection, residual from his days as the proprietor of a French restaurant. Red or white? A nice pinot noir perhaps.”
“Champagne,” Ruth said. She turned to face the three others. “I’m sorry, I have not been behaving. Please forgive me. It’s Ike’s fault.” Ike’s eyebrows shot up and he started to protest but Ruth sailed on. “It’s just that I enjoy pushing his buttons. And he, mine, as a matter of fact. But, he’s been so patient with me and I’ve been so vague these past months, he was beginning to think it was hopeless, you see?”
They didn’t.
“Okay, then, here we go. And Ike, please don’t kick my shins anymore. I bruise easily. Of course you knew that already, because when…but that’s something we can discuss another day.”
Ruth paused and held up her right hand. The diamond ring caught the candlelight and sent bright sparks of light dancing across the ceiling.
“You see this obscene rock? Ike gave that to me last fall. He spent his children’s inheritance on it. Fortunately, he has no children, as I have now affirmed, but you get the point. Are you with me?”
Dolly’s face had a sly grin. Abe looked confused and Ike stared blankly at Ruth. He, better than anyone, knew what she was capable of, and he hoped she wouldn’t go off. He had a fleeting vision of one of those joke cigars with a powder charge in it that would explode when lit. Kablam.
“You do, don’t you, Dolly? Wow, okay, here we go.”
Ruth slipped the ring from her right ring finger and held it out toward Ike. He shook his head. She grinned and slipped it on her left ring finger. “Is that the announcement you were asking about?”
“Hallelujah,” Abe barked. “Champagne it is. The best.”
Chapter Eleven
“Turn on the engine and let’s get some heat in here. It’s cold. Did
Ike tell you why we’re staking out this place?” Billy Sutherlin slapped his arms against his chest and puffed.
Sam Ryder shifted in the seat and peered into the night. “Sissy. It’s March. Where I come from this is like summer. Why didn’t you wear your jacket if you’re cold?”
“It’s in the wash.”
“You don’t wash a down jacket, Billy.”
“Yeah, I found that out the hard way. Essie gave me hell. Listen, laundry ain’t something I was raised up to be doing.”
Sam smiled and shook her head. Men. “Ike said to me we were to keep an eye on the place, and should park so we can see around back as well. Something to do with the break-in you wrote up Saturday.”
The moon, though not yet full, provided enough light to allow the two deputies to see without night vision goggles, which was a good thing, as the several federal programs aimed at upgrading law enforcement agencies across the country had missed Picketsville. The sheriff’s department had to manage without the goggles and a number of other bits of technology they could have used, now deemed standard in larger, more affluent jurisdictions.
“You Yankees are used to the snow and ice. That’s why you can sit there so smug. What else, besides that, reindeer, and permanent frost bite, do you have up there in Minnesota?”
“In the summertime we have mosquitoes big enough to take your cat.”
“Heard that. Did Ike think the bad guy would be back for another go?”
“That was my take. Something to do with him, or her, or them not finding what they came for the first time. You see anything up front?”
“Nope. Why would they come back this soon? Seems sorta risky to me.”
“You know Ike.”
“So, what do you hear from your boy Karl?”
“He’s been assigned to a tactical unit, so I don’t always know where he is. It’s not something I like, I can tell you.”
“I reckon you wish he’d taken Ike’s offer last spring and stayed on here as a deputy? He was good, I’ll give him that, but I reckon his heart was set on going back and being a G-man.”
“Nobody says G-man anymore, Billy. FBI Special Agent is the correct term. Yeah, he said he needed to know.” Sam sat still and put the binoculars to her eyes again. “It was so good those months when he was here all the time and, you know, it was, like, peaceful.”
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