by Aimée Thurlo
As she walked into what was essentially a large warehouse with compartmented offices, she saw Wayne Hurley helping one of at least five customers visible at the moment.
Wayne and his client were standing in one of the long rows between tall metal shelves piled high with samples of their product line, everything from horseshoe nails, lubricants, irrigation valves and sprinklers, and even scale models of hay balers and irrigation pumps. She waited until Wayne completed the transaction, then caught his eye, waved, and walked over to join him.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes, Leigh Ann,” Wayne said, adjusting his bolo tie and sucking in his middle-aged gut. “What brings you here this fine morning?”
“Remember when you and Pierre told me I’d get a wholesale discount whenever I needed something?”
“Of course, and that offer still stands. Whatcha need, some fencing or maybe a backyard shed?”
She gave him her best smile. All things considered, she preferred dealing with Wayne. Pierre was polite and nice enough, but they’d never hit it off. He and Kurt had been friends though, so maybe that was part of it. On the other hand, Kurt had never much cared for Wayne, often griping that Wayne wasn’t hungry enough to be a good salesman. It seemed to gall Kurt that Wayne tended to give their big-ticket clients and the small, walk-in buyers equal time and service.
“I’m looking for a live trap—something large enough to catch a pesky squirrel, but not harm it.”
“You got one setting up a den under the house?” Wayne asked, stepping behind a U-shaped counter that held computer terminals and cash registers.
“No, this one is wandering into the attic, and those little sharp-toothed rascals can create all kinds of trouble, making nests in the insulation and such. Since I don’t want it trapped and dying up there, I’ve got to catch it before I seal off any openings. Once it’s in the cage, I’ll release it down in the bosque.”
“I know exactly what you need,” he said, conducting a quick search on a computer. “How’s this?” he said, turning the monitor so she could see the low wire cage with slanting doors at each end.
“Is it easy to use?”
“Yes indeed, and once the squirrel touches the bait, the doors slam shut and it’s trapped. I’ve sold dozens of these over the years and I’ll go over it with you when you pick it up. I can have one here early next week if we order now. Will that do?”
“Sounds fine, Wayne. How much will it run me?”
“You’ve never come to us for anything, so this first order is at cost: fourteen ninety-five plus tax, which includes shipping. You okay with that?”
“You bet. I really appreciate it, too,” she said with a smile. “You know, the months after Kurt passed away, things were really hard for me. I don’t know if I ever properly thanked you for buying back Kurt’s share of the business at such a fair price. If you guys hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t have been able to pay the bills and hang on to the house.”
“I’m sorry that you had such a rough time of it,” Wayne said. “It’s hard to go from being a couple to being alone.”
Remembering that Wayne’s marriage had ended up in a divorce several months ago, she nodded. “I’m sorry you and Cathy didn’t make it. I thought you two would be together forever.”
“So did I,” Wayne said. “We had our problems, sure, but I always thought we’d work them out.”
“I know you tried a marriage counselor.”
“That was a waste of time,” he spat out. “Cathy played me.”
“I know how that feels.”
He avoided her gaze and that spoke volumes to her. Had everyone in the entire county known that Kurt was cheating on her? How could she have been so blind?
“I’ve been sorting through a bunch of old household junk and it turns out Kurt left me a few more surprises,” she ventured, her voice casual. “Are you still looking for files on what’s-his-name … Frank something?”
“Frank Jones?” Wayne said quickly. “I’d forgotten all about him, it’s been so long. What’d you find?”
“Nothing but his name, so far, but you know my cousin, Dale Carson, a former state police officer. He’s with the sheriff’s department now. Maybe I can ask him to look into this Jones guy for you? Would that help?”
“Don’t bother, it’s no big deal. If you happen to find any papers on the guy, though, let me know and I’ll come get them,” he said. “But I’m curious. I was under the impression that you’d cleared out Kurt’s things months ago.”
“That’s what I thought. It turns out Kurt had little stashes all over the danged place.”
“Little stashes?”
“Yeah. Not long ago, we found two hundred dollars hidden in the attic. Then, when Rachel and I got ready to paint the office at home, we moved that big desk, and found another hundred taped to the underside, along with a passport. Can you believe it? He never used it, but jeez, a passport? Who runs off to Mexico when you’ve only got three hundred dollars in your pocket?”
As she talked, Leigh Ann saw that Wayne kept shooting glances at Pierre, who’d come in from the back and was now standing beside a desk not fifteen feet away.
“Hey, Wayne,” Pierre called out, “don’t you think you better go check on that field fencing before the customer comes to pick it up?”
“What fencing?”
Pierre scowled. “You took the call, remember, just after we opened?”
“Oh, yeah. The field fencing. I’ll handle it. Can you help Leigh Ann? She wants to order a humane squirrel trap—the one on the display. I told her she could have it at cost.”
“Sure, glad to help,” Pierre said, coming over. “Hi, Leigh Ann, sorry to interrupt. I’m glad to see you again. You know that if you ever need anything for your place, you can come to us, right?”
“That’s very kind,” she said.
“Kurt left you with bills and a huge mortgage. The way I see it, you’re going to need to keep that house fixed up because it’s your biggest asset. If you ever need painters, plumbers, whatever, call me. I’ll put you in touch with the right people, businesses that won’t try to rip off a woman.”
“I really appreciate that,” she said. It wasn’t like Pierre to be this nice—or patronizing. She wondered when the other shoe would drop.
“I heard you mention to Wayne that you’ve been finding little stashes Kurt left all around the house. Kurt was like that in his office here, too. We each had our own personal file cabinets, but he stowed away paperwork like a squirrel gathers nuts.”
She could tell he was curious about what she’d supposedly found, but was being careful not to mention Frank Jones. She wondered if that was because they’d denied any knowledge of Jones to the detective. Maybe Pierre had sent Wayne to the back because he’d heard his partner slip once already.
Instinct told her to play it cool right now. “Kurt was a pack rat, rest his soul,” she replied.
“One more thing, Leigh Ann. I know you’re a proud woman, and you don’t like asking anyone for help, but if you ever need a loan, or if there’s any way we can help, just say so. We’re here for you.”
“I really appreciate that, Pierre. Thank you.”
He looked at the monitor. “You still have the same address and phone number, correct?”
“Yes, but I’ll be picking it up here, right?”
“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “If you need the trap sooner, I can try and put a rush on it.”
“No, it’ll be fine by early next week. Give me a call?”
“No problem.”
Walking out, Leigh Ann could feel Pierre’s eyes on her. Despite all his kind words, she could sense the man didn’t trust her one bit. Maybe, like the cops, he also thought she’d been in on Kurt’s embezzling scheme.
She took a deep breath as she got into the car. She’d stirred up a hornet’s nest, all right, but she wouldn’t back away from this fight. She’d see it through to the end.
She’d switched on the ignition and put the Jeep in g
ear when she heard the smartphone tone that signaled an incoming email. Shifting to neutral, she checked the phone’s display and smiled. It was from Melvin. He had a Braille keyboard hooked up to his computer and often sent her short messages.
When she finished reading, she called him. “Hey, I just got your email,” she said. “You’re really ready to begin the new sculpture?”
“Yeah, but I need you here to help me get started. This time what I’d like you to do is sit on a sheepskin rug, so you’ll be comfortable, and just talk to me.”
“I can do that,” she said. “Should I come over right now? I don’t have to be at work ’til noon today.”
“Great! I’ll be waiting.”
“Why the floor, though?”
“You know that I see dark figures and outlines but few details. I’ve learned to let my imagination fill in what I need. Having you sit on the floor will give me an idea of proportion without having to guess when you’re in a chair or on the sofa. Will that be a problem?”
“Not at all,” she said. “I’m comfortable wherever.”
Placing the phone on the console beside her, she pulled out of the parking lot and headed west. She was really looking forward to these sessions. It would be nice to spend time with Melvin.
Today, while he worked, at first she’d keep the conversation light and not distract him, but then she’d try to find out what was bothering him, starting obliquely by talking about what needed fixing at his house. She knew he was short on cash and she was a pretty good handyman, handywoman, handyperson? She didn’t know the politically correct term, but if it leaked, chipped, or bowed out, she knew how to fix it. At the same time, maybe he’d open up a little to her.
— TEN —
Leigh Ann was almost at Melvin’s when her phone rang. She normally didn’t get that many phone calls during the day. Seeing it was Regina and suspecting it was trading post business, she answered.
“Hey, Regina, what’s going on?” Leigh Ann asked.
“I need a favor. I want to switch around my hours so I can take off an extra day next week and Jo suggested I work something out with you or Esther. I’m scheduled for half a day, but since you already have this morning off, I wondered if you could use the entire day? I could stick around, and trade with you next month to even things out.”
Leigh Ann considered it.
“Leigh Ann, I know things have been a bit crazy for you lately, so if you can’t don’t worry about it. I can ask Esther.”
“Actually this works for me, too. Let’s do this, but please let Jo know, okay?” She’d wanted a chance to talk to Melvin about everything that had happened to her, as well as what was bothering him. Maybe if she opened up first, he’d do the same, and together they’d find new insights.
As she pulled up at Melvin’s, she saw him step out the front door. Of course he’d heard her Jeep. Only the stone deaf could miss it.
“When are you going to fix that rattle? Do you even know what it is?” he asked, his forehead furrowed.
“It’s nothing. The Jeep still runs fine and that particular noise isn’t coming from the engine.”
He nodded, though she could tell she hadn’t convinced him. “So tell me more about your new sculpture,” she said, changing the subject.
“I don’t want to talk about it ’til it’s done. Be patient,” he said, then gestured inside. “Come on, it’s already warming up here. Do you want something cold to drink?”
“My mouth’s dry, but it doesn’t have anything to do with the weather.”
“You’re nervous? Why? All you have to do is talk to me.”
“You may have lost your sight, but you see the real me more clearly than anyone I’ve ever known.”
“I hope so. That’s the ability I’ll need to rely on most now. I’m trying to give form to your inner self, your wind breath, as my people would say. It isn’t meant to be a duplicate of what you see when you look in the mirror.”
“That’s scary,” she said, then chuckled nervously.
“Your voice is filled with uncertainty—but hope as well. That’s all part of what I want my sculpture to reflect. If I do my job right, our combined spirits will define the figure and breathe life into the clay.”
“I know your work. There’s nothing you can’t do. I’m curious. Why haven’t you attempted a human figure before?”
“For the same reason I don’t do just any animal. Something has to whisper to me and compel me to create it.” He led her to the sheepskin rug he’d laid out in the middle of his den. “Last call. Do you want something to drink?”
“Water would be fine,” she said.
“You sure? I have the Mexican Cokes that you like—with real sugar, not corn syrup. They’re phasing them out, so this might be the last one you’ll ever have.”
“One of those would be great. And don’t bother with a glass. In the bottle’s fine.”
He brought it to her, then moved across the room to a table with a folded up wing that blocked her view.
“You picked that particular table so I couldn’t see?”
“It does keep the work from being seen, that’s true enough, but the back is up so nothing falls. I’ve already begun a wire armature to give the piece internal support, but until I get the pose just right, the internal frame won’t stand securely on its own. If you hadn’t noticed, I sometimes misjudge distances and bump into things.”
She made herself comfortable on the floor. “I love sheepskin rugs. They’re so soft.”
“Describe the way you’re sitting,” he said. “Cross-legged?”
“No, I have my right leg straight out and my left leg tucked underneath my right thigh. I’m leaning back a bit, with my left arm behind my back, supporting me. My right upper arm is to my side.”
“Hmm. I get the picture. Makes my knee hurt just thinking about it.”
She laughed. “It’s real comfortable for me.”
“If you say so,” he said, and chuckled.
“What are you doing now?” she asked after several quiet minutes had passed.
“Kneading the clay,” he said, “but I don’t want you focused on me. Tell me about you, your day, and what’s been happening in your life.”
She told him about her visit to Total Supply. “It went smoothly enough, I guess, but I don’t know any more than I did before, except that they lied to the detectives about Frank Jones.”
“Yeah, but you already knew who Frank Jones really was, so what exactly did you hope to find out?”
“Just how far they were willing to go to continue the lie,” she said. “They not only told the detectives that they’d never heard of Frank Jones, they also said that no money had been stolen from the company. What’s interesting is that when I brought up the name, Wayne tried to get me to give up whatever I had on Jones. Then Pierre heard what was going on and sent Wayne away before he could make things worse.”
“Pierre sounds like the brains of the two, which makes him the most dangerous. So be careful. Letting them know you’re onto them is like playing with fire,” Melvin said.
“I know, which is why I’m carrying the .38 revolver in my purse right now.”
“You have a concealed carry for that?”
“No, but I have more important things to worry about, and as long as it helps me fight back and stay alive, I’m willing to take the risk. I’m more worried about them than I am about getting caught with a weapon.”
“Hope you never have to use it, Leigh Ann,” he said. “Now let’s think a little farther ahead. Say that a year from now, you have all the answers you’ve searched for and you’re ready to move on. What would you like to see in your life then?”
Him, but she couldn’t say that. “A house that’s finally all fixed up,” she said with a thin smile.
“No, tell me about you—where do you see yourself in a year?”
“Are you asking where I’d like to be, or where I’d see myself realistically.”
“Answer both,” he said
.
Although she couldn’t see his hands working the clay, exertion tightened the cords on his neck, and angled toward his shoulders. What she wouldn’t have given to see him working shirtless. She bit back a sigh.
“And tell me what made you sigh under your breath like that.”
She laughed. “Hey, you don’t miss much.”
He grinned. “Does that bother you?”
“Bother, no, wrong word.”
“Then what is?”
She took a deep breath. “You make me feel as naked as a jaybird sometimes.”
“And you want us to be on more equal footing,” he said with a nod. “Navajos believe in balance. So, shall I strip and work naked?”
She’d just taken a sip of Coke and instantly choked. “Good gravy, Melvin! That’s not what I meant.” She’d thought about it, sure, but she’d go to her grave before she admitted it.
Hearing him laugh, she realized he was deliberately teasing her.
“We should still strive for balance, so how about I strip off my shirt,” he said.
“You don’t have to do that,” she said, but as hard as she’d tried, her voice lacked conviction even to her own ears.
He grinned. “No problem. I’ll volunteer. It’s warm in the house anyway. In fact, let me turn on the swamp cooler. Adding moisture to the room will help the clay.”
“If you’re going to be lowering the temperature, you’ll want to keep your shirt close by,” she said, trying unsuccessfully to hide her disappointment.
“It won’t cool off that much. There’s something wrong with the unit.”
Leigh Ann watched him tug off his shirt and toss it aside. Though he hadn’t seemed to be aiming, he obviously knew precisely where the closest chair was. The garment fell neatly over the arm.
“Nice.”
“Me, or the throw?”
“Both.”
As he continued working, she could now see the muscles on his upper arms and chest ripple. The light dusting of hair that arrowed downward from the center of his chest and disappeared into the nether regions below teased her imagination. With effort, she forced her breathing to stay even—well, almost.