by Zoey Kane
“Oh, came ‘bout as close as you have,” said Tim.
“Yeah? I thought you guys had a map.”
“It, apparently, is no better than the one you have.” Tim’s table companions laughed.
The man inquiring ignored the comment as Hatter and his prospectors got busy pushing more tables together on the other side, talking.
“I was a little worried,” said Zo. “I thought I was going to have to go over there and slap them up just to stop a fight.”
The lounge filled up with guests crowding the dance floor, making it hard to see to the other side. Some people were smoking, blowing stinky whiffs that invaded Claire’s nostrils.
Zo took a moment to people watch, when she heard the words, “May I rub your feet?” She turned to Daniel who gave her a big smile along with a mischievous glance.
“You are soooo beginning to look like Sylvester the Cat talking to Tweety Bird.”
“Trust me. I’m a medicine man.”
From seemingly out of nowhere, Zo felt ice-cold liquid running down her face. She yelped and jerked back in her seat, spitting out the soda that wet her lips. Daniel looked up as Brooks stood, and Claire shouted, “Not again! You deranged witch!”
Marlene had a tight smile and her eyes looked like glassy marbles. “I told you this wasn’t over!”
Their waitress, Cindy, saw what happened and was coming over with plenty of napkins. Claire exited the booth and helped mop up her stunned, speechless mom.
Marlene was still staring down Zoey, only now she was laughing. “I’ve got more of that for you. It’s still not over! More to come, sweetie pie! Agahaa-haahaa!”
Zo kept trying to dry the Coke out of her eyes as it still dripped down her forehead.
Daniel moved up behind Marlene, and jerked both of her arms backwards, followed by the clip, zip, and silver glint of handcuffs. He took her by the shoulders and twisted her around so he could stare at her, eye-to-eye. “You are under arrest for malicious mischief, assault, damage of personal property, provoking and accosting an unwilling citizen, as well as ruining a little sweetie-bird’s evening.”
“What? Wait!” Marlene writhed angrily in his tenacious hold.
Cheers went up from the crowd of onlookers.
“You have the right to remain silent…” He took Marlene by the elbow and pushed her toward the door in a bum’s rush.
Mackey appeared with a hand on Daniel’s shoulder, stopping him from reciting the Miranda rights. “I’ll take care of her, if you don’t mind, Captain.”
Daniel paused. Marlene was bewildered by the interruption, and her mouth hung open. Mackey said, “I don’t want my diner gittin’ a bad reputation fer having ladies arrested. This is a family-friendly retreat, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
“What did you have in mind?” Daniel released Marlene. She whipped around and narrowed her eyes at him in anger, although still cuffed. Not that he noticed.
Mackey lowered his bristly chin, and looked up at Daniel with serious, gray eyes. “I’ll give her a firm talking to, expulsion from the lounge for the evening, and make her promise there’ll be no further antics.”
Daniel looked satisfied and removed the handcuffs. He stepped back, and waved a hand for Marlene to go off with him.
“Boo!” called the crowd.
“Arrest her,” one yelled.
“C’mon…” Mackey ushered Marlene away like an unyielding, strict grandfather. “Time to go to the principal’s office.”
Standing behind everyone was Richard, looking like he wanted to crawl under a table. Hatter came along and put a big, hairy arm around his shoulders. “Hey, Rich! Have I got a beer for you! You got a cell phone?”
“Ah, sure—right here. You want to borrow it?”
“Yeah!”
He took Richard’s phone and put it inside the back pocket of his jeans, then stopped Cindy for a beer order. “Just kick back with me and my friends for the rest of the night.”
“Oh, sure.” Richard accepted the man’s invitation, but looked apprehensive. “Ah, I guess I can’t take any calls tonight, then.”
“Now you got the picture, buddy. Come on. Howze about a burger and fries to go with that beer? On me.”
“Heck, ah, yes—yeah!”
It was the first time Zo and Claire saw Richard smile.
*
Zo was anxious to get ready for bed, because she was just too tired of cleaning up and changing clothes. Claire came in about an hour-and-a-half later, when Zo was already lying in bed, watching the news on low volume.
“In… ter… esting day, wouldn’t you say?” Claire asked.
“I would say that on this plate of ‘interesting’ I have become the barbecued entree.” She pressed the “off” button on the remote.
“Sorry, Mom. I actually feel so sorry for you. But on the other hand, I can’t help but remember that Marlene got nailed both times she tried to bully you. So you have emerged as the all-time winner!”
“There were some funny moments.”
“Poor Richard. He gets his phone back in the morning, only to hear about a hundred messages from Marlene, I’m sure.”
“Claire, come over here and take my silver cuff off.” Zo extended her arm across a pillow.
“Okaaaay, why?” She approached her mother.
“I’ve just been wondering about something. It’s kind of a test.”
“Are you worried someone might nab it off you in a crowd? I’ve never seen it off you. Not even in the mud-wrestling.”
Claire looped her finger under the cuff and pulled, but it didn’t budge.
“Pull harder! Get it off.”
“I am pulling, and twisting.”
“Ow!” Zo withdrew, petting her wrist as if it were an injured kitten.
“Do you want me to get some lotion to slide it off easier?”
“Watch this, sweetie.” Zo put fingers on either side of the cuff and it came off rather quickly.
“Is it a trick?”
She put the cuff back on. “No. I went to pull off Daniel’s silver cuff, but I couldn’t get it to move in any direction. He said nobody else can take if off his arm but him, so I’ve been thinking that over.”
Voices could be heard in the hallway, outside their door. Zo grabbed a robe and headed out with Claire right behind. “Mackey!”
There was an officer with him, pointing at police tape across Elena’s door, and telling him no one could enter, that it was a crime scene.
“Hi, Mackey,” Zo said. “Would you see if you could pull this cuff off my arm?”
“Well, now, I don’t know if I should. Is this anything like pull my finger? I don’t wanna be embarrassed by any unladylike, rude noises,” kidded Mackey.
The officer laughed.
“No need to fear. It’s a trick bracelet. I want to see if you can do it.”
Mackey tried to take it off. “I’m afraid I’m going to hurt you if I pull an’ crank it any harder.”
Zo offered her arm to the officer who, after a couple of attempts, asked what the secret was.
“I can’t give away my secret. But thanks for showing me that it really works.”
“Claire, you’re bein’ awfully quiet,” noticed Mackey. “Why don’t you pull this nice sheriff’s finger an’ see if anything magical happens? Heh-heh-heh.”
The officer put his hands in his pockets and smiled a slightly embarrassed smile while rattling his keys. “I’ve got to go now. I could play games all night with you folks, but I’m on duty. Thank goodness.” Then with an added thought, he said, “Let us know if anyone messes with the tape across this door, or enters this room, because I would like to arrest and fine anyone who tries.” His big smile revealed crooked front teeth as he left.
“Yessir!” Mackey said. “Guess I better git on too.” He turned and walked down the hall.
Zo and Claire returned to their room.
“Okay, Mom,” Claire sat on the cot and took off her boots, readying herself for some
night clothes. “You must have had an epiphany about your cuff. Nail it on down for me.”
“Daniel acts so strange about it. His body language makes me suspicious, and I have to question why. What is there about this cuff that makes us hear drums? We didn’t hear drums until I found it, right?”
“Right.” She pulled a long, baggy shirt over her head.
“What if the man looking in our window that night was actually seeing if I set the cuff out on something? What if our room was ransacked because someone was looking for the cuff? That would make a correlation between the cuff and the Keelywot Indians—so far.”
“You better say Native Americans.”
“Claire, where is the romance in that? I agree with Captain Daniel.”
“Okaaay! Onward and upward. Now what do we do about global warming?” Claire teased, “We can start bicycling across the U.S.”
Zo pretended to seriously consider the option, before saying, “Since cattle flatulence is a main contributor to the problem, I think I’ll do my part by eating some steak tomorrow.”
“Too many loud, mean people around here,” Claire said, desperately trying to fluff her flattened pillow. “Maybe we should tell Kipperman we’re cutting our accidental vacation short, and make arrangements to leave first thing in the morning.”
“And miss out on solving the mystery?” Zo unbelted her robe and dropped back onto the bed.
“It’s simple, Mom.” Claire resorted to beating her pillow against the cot’s edge. “There is no real mystery. Just a loony…”—whack—“…greedy…”—whack—“…prospector, doing his evil…”—whack—“work.” Wisps of brunette hair now framed her red face.
“Feel better, sweetie?” Zo gave a Mona Lisa smile of amusement, and turned off the lamp at her bedside.
“Not yet.” Whack! She wiped her brow and proceeded to get under her covers calmly.
“That-a-girl.”
Claire pulled her top blanket up to her neck. “Don’t look at the window tonight. I’m sure Roy will be out on patrol. Oh, I made arrangements for us to take another ride on Goldstrike and Roy at eleven tomorrow.”
“Sounds good. See you in the morning, darling.” Zo rolled over onto her side and was soon asleep, dreaming of inflated cows sailing through the air like helium balloons. She especially liked the Zoey one.
A crinkling in Claire’s pillowcase awoke her later that evening as she tossed and turned. She pulled a piece of paper out, and groggily tossed it aside, thinking nothing more about the nuisance. From the hallway, she thought she heard people talking about the Box Caves. Feeling too tired to open her eyes and pay more attention, she soon drifted away.
ELEVEN
Zo awoke first, excited for the day to begin. She was thinking of all the things she’d like to do, when she noticed a crinkled piece of paper on the floor next to Claire’s cot. Since she didn’t see it there last night, it was a point of curiosity more than clutter. She leaned over and picked it up for closer inspection.
The paper was worn with age. Zo carefully straightened it out. It said in cursive, “First, there is silver, then there are hammers picking a path to gold. A sudden throat, a secret held tight, not spoken. Only take what is given, or leave your life.”
“That didn’t rhyme at all,” she said.
The clock on her nightstand read 9:07. “Wake up, Claire,” she said louder.
Claire gave a sleepy groan.
“Wake up. Let’s go to breakfast.” Zo laid the paper on her bed. “Read what this says while I get ready. I found it on the floor. It wasn’t there when we turned out the lights to sleep last night.”
Claire studied it for a while in bewilderment. Once her mother emerged from the bathroom, looking fresh, Claire grabbed some clothes. On her way to the shower, she said, “That’s what I must’ve pulled out of my pillowcase last night.”
Before shutting the bathroom door, Claire called back, “What is it…? Somebody’s poetry? There’s no signature.” The shower curtain zipped along the bar, and the water’s spray whined from the pressure.
When Claire was all washed up and dressed, Zo joined her in front of the bathroom mirror. They slicked their hair back into ponytails. Claire’s dark brown hair was smooth and sleek; Zo’s strawberry blond tendrils fell in natural waves. Neither mentioned the paper again, nor thought much of it. At the last minute, Zo fastened on her new rose earrings, ceramic and cheap, but darling. Claire, on the other hand, chose large, gold hoops that dazzled. Kountry Kickin’ Fashions and Gas came in handy for more than a few reasons.
They soon entered the diner, lookin’ good.
Richard spent his time chatting up his table companions, having a second cinnamon roll, sipping coffee, leaning back in his chair with an elbow over the edge of it, and talking, talking, talking.
“You know,” concluded Claire at a nearby seat, “today seems like a very happy day.”
“You are so right. With Marlene handled, what could possibly go wrong?”
Claire took a sip of her ice water. “We better take advantage of it. You know, last night I had a dream. I thought I was hearing voices in the hallway talking about the Box Caves. It sounded like a loud echo chamber.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
“Go?”
“Yeah, to the Box Caves… to really have a good look around.” Zo finished off her orange juice, and set the glass down hard. “Since I’ve been thinking about that place, which the police must be done with by now, I thought I would like to revisit. Your dream has made up my mind about that.”
“There is still a murderer out there somewhere, Mom. It’s kind of dangerous. For all we know, it could be someone as simple as Richard.” They both looked over at him.
Richard was sitting on a hip and crossed his legs in a nonchalant manner, talking and receiving smiles from his new friends.
Mother and daughter looked at each other, and said in unison, “Naaaaaw.”
When the two walked out on the porch, there was the beautiful palomino, all saddled up, with his creamy long mane and tail freshly brushed. He looked like he just had a shampoo and set. Roy greeted Zo with his long-toothed smile and bright eyes. She went over to him with her own smile and two sugar cubes. He accepted them gratefully.
“Do you know how rare sugar cubes are in restaurants?” Zo rubbed under his bridle. “Everything today is mostly packaged. Well, the kitchen told me people specifically ask for them for their horse friends.”
Roy crunched through his treat, with intelligent understanding.
“You are looking handsome today, and wily.”
He threw his head up and down, nodding.
“But neither of you are tied to anything. Talk about brilliant training!”
Brooks came jogging over, sounding breathless when he arrived. “Ol’ Roy pulled the ties loose with those burglar teeth and brought Goldstrike over here with him.”
“Gosh, well, everything is okay,” said Zo.
“Okay, where will you ladies be going today?”
“We want to go over to the caves again and kind of look around,” Claire answered.
Brooks got a serious look in his blue eyes. “You be careful doing that. To me, that is like going down into the basement of a haunted house, or up in the attic on a dark and stormy night. Maybe you shouldn’t go there.”
Zo wasn’t disturbed. “The festival picks up again at one o’clock?” she dismissively inquired, her attention stolen by vendors putting out more products, and the concessionaires washing things up.
“Yeah, another fun time. You stay away from the mud pit, ma’am.” He smiled. “May I follow you two around again tonight?”
“I’m sure Claire wouldn’t have it any other way; or me either.”
Everybody grinned.
“All right then, do either of you need a leg up?”
“We got it.” Zo put a foot in a stirrup and up she went, followed by Claire.
“Well, off we go, but first…” Claire leaned down to give Brooks
a farewell kiss.
“I don’t see how I can pay much attention to my work now,” he responded.
Roy moved forward with a delighted mule-squeal.
Zo said, “His unique voice promises to show a lot of talent. Rather bluesy, like Janis Joplin—in my opinion.”
Off they went with Brooks looking on. “Hey, ladies!” he called after them. “The news said it might rain today.” Claire waved over her shoulder and he shook his head before turning and heading back into the barn.
It did seem a little cooler, with a comfortable breeze that occasionally ruffled Goldstrike’s mane. The two rode side-by-side.
“Mom, who do you think is the killer, since he hasn’t been found yet?”
“I’ve been giving it some thought. Marlene would be at the top of my list, except she isn’t that smart. You know, she tends to act on her impulses; there’s obviously no careful planning with her.”
The mule and horse bobbed their heads as they walked along, the clapping of their hooves keeping rhythm, with a hoof or two occasionally scuffing the dirt or kicking a stone.
“Yeah. If it turned out to be our waitress, Cindy, that would be the biggest surprise of all,” added Claire whose ponytail was blowing as much as her horse’s mane. “You know, since she’s probably the least suspected, flying under the radar.”
“We can’t lay it on anyone, because the killer hasn’t given us enough information, always disappearing, and even killing that killer, George. Then there was that Indian looking in our window in the moonlight. I asked Daniel about that feather we found. He seems to think it was a phony, not connected to his tribe.”
“Reeeaally?”
Pretty soon they were at the bottom of the trail leading to the Box Caves. Goldstrike led the way and they reached the plateau with the Box Caves’ entry. Roy did a one-eighty and started heading back down the trail. Zo tried to turn him around, but he walked up a few steps before reversing direction. Soon, she was riding a mule that decided to sit down.
“What is the matter with you?” She stepped off. “You are sitting down on the job.”