Moonscape

by Julie Weston

  Rosy shrugged. “Probably takes money one way or t’other. To be or not to be.” He grinned at Nellie. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  When Rosy had driven off to the east, Nellie approached Charlie. “Can I get you anything? Water? Food?” Her canteen still felt almost full. She found a rock out-cropping and called Moonie before she tipped some out for him. Charlie shook his head.

  “I think it was one of O’Donnell, Peter Banks, or Tom who was in the cave with . . . Hattie at the same time we were there. That white spot on your photograph was one of them.”

  “It couldn’t have been Tom. He was with us,” Nell said.

  “True. Then O’Donnell or Peter Banks. What do we know about him?”

  “He goes swimming at Guyer Hot Springs. He seems to be . . . maybe intimate with Effie. Maybe even a ladies’ man, first Effie and then that other woman. He tried to smooth talk me, too. He might be the person who delivered the baby to the church, probably with Effie’s help. We don’t know much. We know O’Donnell gave the money to Effie, who delivered it to Elder. Or, at least we know Effie said she did.”

  “That spot could have been her,” Charlie said.

  “Or, Ben O’Donnell or Pearl.” Nellie tossed a pebble into the wagon road rut. “I doubt it was Pearl. She may be the only person out here not connected with this group in any way.” She took a sip from her canteen and offered it to Charlie. “Ben seems removed, too, except for his father. Or, maybe the son was the father of Hattie’s child. That might explain Cable O’Donnell’s interest in getting Hattie out of the clutches of that religion. Ben would have had the same interest, or need.”

  The sun was warm where they sat, but it was a fall warmth, a sideways warmth. A breeze with an undercurrent of chill began to rustle the grasses around them. Nell leaned toward Charlie, and he lifted his arm to put it around her shoulders. “Charlie, almost everyone here could have an evil motive, even if they appear to be normal.”

  When he said nothing, Nellie continued. “How do you stand it? Auto crashes and even robberies seem more like accidents. But, ever since I arrived, one way or another, I’ve been involved in murders—seven of them now? Surely, that isn’t normal. Every way we turn, we discover a person is complicit in one way or another. The money. The child. Multiple marriages. Is it like this everywhere in the West? Has it always been? Are small towns rife with evil? Am I evil?”

  His laugh was loud. “No, Nellie, you are not evil. Even if your camera seems like a magic tool, there is an explanation for how it works. You are good-hearted, and that is why all this seems evil. Small towns have as much evil as big cities. It is human fallacy and weakness—money, greed, drugs, jealousy, even love.” He shrugged and pulled her closer. His laughing voice changed to somber. “It is my job to stand it. That does not keep me from being sad sometimes, mad other times. Solving some of the mysteries of our community helps me continue, especially if it helps people I know, and I know most everyone in this valley.”

  They held onto each other, each with their individual thoughts. Nellie felt closer to Charlie than she ever had. Perhaps he felt close to her, too. She couldn’t bring herself to ask, so she just enjoyed being next to him, even if it might not last.

  CHAPTER 25

  Several knocks on the boarding house door drew Goldie Bock from her kitchen. When she opened it, Peter Banks stood on the threshold with the woman Goldie had seen at the pool. She was the one who tried to peek into the men’s pool.

  “I took care of the baby,” Goldie said. “She is in good hands for now. What else do you need?”

  The woman stepped into the house, forcing Goldie back. Her short skirt and cloche hat confirmed Goldie’s earlier opinion of her. “That child is my sister’s. I need to find her—and the clothes you have here . . .” She sounded as if she would continue but stopped.

  “And who might you be? And if your sister is the mother, where is she?” Goldie wondered how this woman knew about the knit baby clothes that sat in a box in her parlor.

  “I’m Euphemia Thorpe. My sister, Harriet Thorpe, is dead, killed out in the lava fields by a crazy man.” She pulled a hanky from her sleeve and dabbed her eyes. “Where’s the baby?”

  “How do I know she’s your niece? This man here found her on the church steps. You could be anyone, cozying up to Mr. Banks here and wantin’ a strange babe for yourself.” Goldie wanted to close the door, but Peter stepped in, too.

  “Mrs. Bock,” he said. “I lied to you, and I’m sorry. I brought that little mite to the church myself, because Effie here was too distraught by her sister’s death. She couldn’t take care of it in her state. I called on you because I wanted the baby to be safe, and I didn’t know what else to do. Surely, you understand.”

  “And the money,” Effie blurted out. “It’s mine, and I want it. That money was for my sister, Hattie. It’s mine now. Give it to me.” She tried to move past Goldie.

  Peter laid a hand on Effie’s arm, restraining her. “We’re sorry to barge in here like this, Mrs. Bock. Effie is concerned about Hattie’s baby. We need to find her. You were kind enough to be sure she was safe.” His manner was the same as it had been at Guyer, friendly and brotherly.

  Effie grabbed Mrs. Bock. “Tell me where she is. I want the money. Now. And the clothes.” Her voice wasn’t sweet any more.

  “I can send you to the doctor in Hailey who made the arrangements.” The doctor could decide if this woman, this Effie, was on the up and up. “You can’t have the money until the sheriff decides who it belongs to.”

  “It’s here?” Effie released her hold and ran down the hallway, poking her head into side rooms—the dining area, an office, and then the parlor.

  “Here now! You can’t just run willy-nilly in my house! Come back here!” Goldie took off after Effie but didn’t catch up until Effie stood in the parlor and now studio door.

  There, on the floor, stood two empty boxes and the small box with knit baby things scattered half in and half out. Goldie opened her mouth in disbelief. Just that morning, the boxes had been tidy and stacked on each other, the small one on top. A few bills stuck to one of the boxes, but, otherwise, the money was gone.

  “Oh, my goodness,” Goldie exclaimed. “I’ll get the clothes for you.” She packed the little garments back into the box and handed them to Effie.

  “But where’s the money? I can see it has been here. Peter, you must search this house. This woman took it and is hiding it somewhere.”

  Goldie stalked to the window to see if it had been opened. It was stuck shut, just as before. She looked at Effie and Peter. Had they come in while she was in her kitchen and stolen the money? Had someone else? The last she knew, Nellie had scooped up some of the money to place in a sack and take with her to the Craters to lure Mr. O’Donnell into telling his secrets. “How did you know about the clothes and the money? Who told you? You probably arranged for whoever that was to sneak in here and take all the money. You are bad people!” Goldie pointed at both of them. “Get out of my house. The sheriff will take care of this. I know you’re staying at Guyer Hot Springs. I’ll send him there as soon as he returns! Shame on you—using a tiny baby to break into my house and threaten me! Out! Out!” Goldie shouted the last order.

  Peter Banks grabbed Effie’s arm and pulled her back to the door. “We did not steal any money,” he said. “Mayor Tom said he turned it over to the sheriff. I assumed the sheriff had control of it. Effie thought it was here. We are sorry to disturb you.” He pulled Effie out the door and closed it.

  Charlie and Nellie and Rosy stopped at the butcher’s morgue, and Rosy and the butcher carried O’Donnell in. The sheriff swore the butcher to secrecy and then telephoned the coroner and told him what had happened and what he needed. They then dropped Rosy at Charlie’s house. They didn’t go in. Nellie didn’t think she could face Effie again, if she was still there. She could see Charlie was exhausted and needed to lie down. When they arrived at Goldie’s, Nellie helped Charlie to the parlor. He dropped
onto the couch, lifted his leg up, and almost immediately fell asleep. Nellie tip-toed to the kitchen.

  “We’re here,” she said, not wanting to startle her landlady.

  “Oh, thank heavens. You won’t believe what has happened while you were gone!” Goldie pulled a towel off the handle of the icebox and wiped her hands. “Someone stole the money. That woman Effie and Peter Banks barged in here, saying they wanted the baby that Mr. Banks brought to me and I farmed out to someone in Hailey. Who knows who? Only the doctor. How do I know they were telling the truth? What’re we gonna do about the money?” For the first time Nellie ever saw, Goldie plunked herself down at the kitchen table and began to cry. “I even gave that woman the baby clothes!” She almost wailed.

  Nellie placed her arms around Goldie and hugged. “Now, now. We’ll sort this all out. Effie’s sister did have a baby, and the one Mr. Banks brought was surely that child. I suspect they wanted the money more than the baby, so at least they didn’t get that!” She didn’t add that the money might belong to Effie, now that Cable O’Donnell was dead. Who else would claim it? Well, maybe Ben would, if it really had been furnished by his father. Goldie stopped crying, but Nellie didn’t stop hugging. She followed her last thought—why would Effie get it?

  “What is going on in here? Cannot a man get some shuteye?” Charlie stood in the doorway. His smile softened his words. He leaned on his crutches.

  Nellie stood up and patted Goldie’s shoulder. “Effie and Peter Banks came here. They demanded the baby, the baby clothes, and the money. They got the baby clothes and may have gone to Hailey to get the baby. The money is gone.”

  “Gone? Did they take that, too?” His smile disappeared. “I was afraid someone would try.”

  “It was stolen. The boxes are empty.” Goldie still huddled on the chair. “I’m sorry, Charlie. I’m not a good person to trust. I don’t know who came in when I was working in the kitchen.” She looked up. “For all I know, it was those two and then they went back out and banged on the door.”

  “They’re not that smart,” Nellie said. “And why wouldn’t they take the baby clothes at the same time?” From Goldie’s description, they had been scattered around—not wanted or needed. She tried to recapture her elusive thought about Effie, but it wouldn’t come back.

  “Where are the boys?” Charlie asked. “It is like a tomb around here—just like the old days.”

  Goldie stood up. “I don’t know. They were playing upstairs last I knew. Where is Rosy? The boys should be in school, but we were afraid Gwynn would kidnap them to the ranch. Esther and I decided they should stay here for a few days. Oh, dear.” She hurried out of the room. Her steps sounded on the stairs, still in a hurry.

  “That wasn’t much of a nap,” Nellie said.

  “With the caterwauling here in the kitchen, I could not sleep. Then I noticed the boxes were stacked empty.” He crutched into the room. “I was afraid of this. At least Goldie is safe. I worried someone would hurt her while stealing the money, after the conversation about it at Craters of the Moon. Rosy did not call Goldie or mention it to her when he took Effie to Hailey. He didn’t want Effie to hear.”

  A muffled scream came down the stairs.

  “Oh, no!” Nellie dashed past Charlie and climbed the stairs as fast as she could. The door to the boys’ room was open. She stopped, stunned. There on the floor were the two boys, each with a stack of bills beside them. Playing cards lay around them.

  “We’re playing poker!” “Just like the cowboys!” “I’m ahead!” “No, you’re not. You cheated!”

  Goldie stomped into the room. She grabbed an arm of each boy. “You boys stole this money from downstairs! It doesn’t belong to you! If Rosy doesn’t whale on you, I will!”

  The boys’ eyes grew round. “We didn’t know. We opened the boxes and thought it was play money, so we thought we could use it! Please don’t tell our dad, Aunt Goldie. We didn’t mean to!” Matthew spoke for both of them while Campbell cried.

  “We were playing in the studio and used the boxes as our stage coaches. One came open, and the money fell out. We opened the other one. There was so much money, we thought it was play money.” Matt pulled his arm loose from Goldie’s hold.

  “It’s all right, boys,” Nellie said. “You kept it from being stolen. Now stack it up and put the cards away. The sheriff will take the money and put it somewhere safe.” A bank, she hoped. She retrieved the boxes from the parlor after explaining to Charlie what they had found upstairs. When the money was repacked and re-sealed, she put the boxes in her room until they could be delivered to the sheriff’s office and thence to a bank. By then, the boys were happy again and playing another game with the cards.

  CHAPTER 26

  Ping, ping, p-ping. Nellie awoke with the sound. Ping, ping. It was still dark. A few moments passed before she realized little rocks were hitting her window. Ping, ping. She climbed out of bed, wrapped a shawl around herself, and stepped to the window. Of course it was stuck tight. She tried to see who was tossing the pebbles but could not. She knocked at the window, then pulled on her pants, a shirt, and boots, grabbed a jacket, opened her door, and crept downstairs. At the kitchen door, she unlocked it and peered outside.

  “Who is it?” Her whisper sounded loud to her. Moonshine had followed her, but she bade him stay inside. She stepped down the stairs to the side of the big, old house near where her window, upstairs, looked down on the side yard. There were no street lights. The only ambient light came from the kitchen, where Goldie kept a small lamp for boarders who came in late or sought a late-night snack, plus a porch lamp at the front of the house.

  More pebbles pinged. Nellie edged closer, trying to figure out who wanted her awake. Whoever it was, was accurate with his aim. “What do you want?” Her whisper was louder this time.

  “Nell. Miss Burns. I need your help.” A narrow figure in dark clothes rose up from behind several shrubs. “Again.”

  “Effie! What are you doing here?”

  “I need you to come back with me. Just for a little while.” Effie reached out and grabbed Nellie’s sleeve. Nellie jerked it away.

  “Why? What’s wrong? Can’t this wait?”

  “No. My sister’s baby is going to be kidnapped tonight, and we must stop it!” Again, she grabbed at Nellie.

  “But where? Why? I don’t understand.” Nellie let herself be pulled toward the street. “You were right there with Rosy. He could help. He’s a deputy.” She dragged her feet. “Let me get the sheriff.”

  “No! I need you. Please. I’ll explain in the auto. We must hurry!”

  Effie opened the back door of a long, black automobile and practically shoved Nellie inside. She stumbled onto the back cushion and at the same time smelled something sickly sweet. Nellie pushed herself up and tried to back out. Too late—a cloth covered her mouth and nose, and she knew no more.

  Sometime later, Nellie began to hear voices talking and felt herself moving in the auto. Her hands and feet were tied. Her head felt like a big balloon, and she was dizzy. She kept her eyes closed. She doubted she could even open them. They felt stuck shut.

  “Why go all the way to the lava fields?” Effie’s voice sounded querulous. “You didn’t find the money when you went back and looked. It won’t be out there, that’s for sure. The sheriff probably did take it to the bank, just like he said. Otherwise, you would have found it in Nellie’s room, where the boys said it was.”

  A mumbled answer. Nellie couldn’t distinguish any words apart from “. . . smart cookie,” “. . . dangerous,” and “. . . never find . . .”

  “No! She saved my life . . . my father . . . me . . . I won’t be part of this.”

  “Shut up.” That was clear enough.

  Nell didn’t know the man’s voice. It could be Peter Banks, but it sounded rougher. “Her father.” Who could that be? Mayor Tom? Or Cable O’Donnell? Someone in Hailey or Ketchum? Not Tom, of course. Tom called the three who went to the lava fields all strangers. Unless he was
lying.

  “Check on her.”

  Nell tried to relax, as if she were still drugged. A hand touched her face, softly prodded her.

  “She’s still out. Maybe you killed her. I can’t tell if she’s breathing or not.” The hands moved away.

  “How do we know the little brats were telling the truth about the cash?” The voice was clear this time. Nellie was certain it was Peter Banks. Too young to be Effie’s father.

  The auto rumbled along. Nellie risked one eye open. A predawn light glimmered through the windows. She couldn’t see anything but two heads in the front and the upholstery in the back. It was an expensive automobile. Cigarette smoke floated around.

  “I told you. We don’t, but they didn’t know I was listening when they told their aunt about what happened—the play money, Nell’s room. They’d already told their father, I think, on the way back from Ketchum.” Her head moved with her talking. “He told them to pipe down. It was a secret.” As if the thought just occurred to her, she said, “Did you make noise when you went up the stairs?”

  “Quiet as a mouse I was. No one heard me.”

  By the time the auto reached the lava fields, Nellie was completely awake and trying to get her hands loose from the rope. When the auto stopped, the driver climbed out, saying, “I’ve got to find . . .” His last words were lost. Effie still sat in the front seat.

  “Effie,” Nellie said. “You have to get me out of here!”

  Effie swung around. “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can. You drive, don’t you? Move over and start up the auto and drive away.” Nellie kept her voice low. “Please, you must help me. What is Peter planning on doing?”

  Effie screwed up her face. “I don’t know. He said he would get the money back for me and then take me away from all this. He promised. I don’t know why he wanted you!”