Christie And The Hellcat Part 35

Zee gave her a last loving look, then strode toward the door. It opened just as she reached it. There was a clatter and clinka startled Curly had almost dropped the tray.

"Well, are you coming in or going out?" asked Zee.

He blinked at her. "Coming in."

She stepped aside to let him past, grabbing one of the gla.s.ses of lemonade and draining it in one as he did so. He gaped at her as she put the empty gla.s.s back.

"Thanks."

With a wink at Christie, and a tip of her hat at Julie, Zee headed for the front door.

GIF.

The fire crew had packed up their water wagon and gone home by the time Zee returned to the charred wreckage of her back yard. Her mare whinnied a greeting then nosed at where the water trough used to be. Zee took the hint, poured some water from her canteen into a palm, and let the horse drink. As she patted the broad neck with her free hand and whispered encouraging words in a twitching ear, her eyes scanned her surroundings.

Marvin's crew, their fire appliance, the mule, the water, her own horse . . . all had contributed to the churned up muddy mess. All traces of any boy who might have been lurking about had been well and truly obliterated. Perhaps if she started looking outside the yard, 228 where the ground was still dry . . .

The mare lipped up the final drops of water, and Zee gave the animal one last pat. Then she slung her canteen over one shoulder, the rope she kept coiled round her saddle horn over the other, and set off.

It took her five minutes' scrutiny of the track alongside the Old Barn and the lane out front before she found ithalf of a footprint: a right shoe, its heel worn down on one side, and so small it must belong to a child. She crouched and rubbed her thumb in the dirt, comparing the color and texture of the disturbed patch against that of the print.

Recent, very recent.

Satisfied she would know the footprint again, she straightened and looked toward the Riker residence. The print was leading away from the large, white house with the green trim not toward it. Much as she would have liked to go over there and accuse the boy, as Christie had once pointed out she was the law and couldn't take things into her own hands just because she felt like it. She needed proof, and she was going to get it.

The hard packed earth didn't hold tracks well, but a fragment of footprint here, a broken gra.s.s stem there was enough. As always, the skills Indian Jim had taught her ten years ago (the outlaw had been half Apache on his mother's side) served her well.

She followed the tracks across Schoolhouse Lane, along the boundary fence between two properties, then east toward the San Pedro River. Once away from Benson, they became easier to followthe trail was obviously well used.

Determined not to spook her quarry, she kept a low profile, taking cover where it was offered, be it a lone saguaro standing guard over its surroundings, or, as the river drew nearer and the terrain changed, a thicket at the base of a stand of cottonwoods.

Zee paused to catch her breath and gulp lukewarm water from the canteen. In the distance a coyote yipped. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and considered what to do with the boy when she caught him. Was he a lost cause, or could he still be turned around? Slinging the canteen over her shoulder, she picked up the trail once more.

She had been tracking for an hour when the trail led her toward what had once been a coyote's den. Human hands had enlarged the entrance in the soft earth. She tiptoed forward and peered in.

229.

Her senses told her the hideout was empty, and she eased herself inside the cramped quarters. Someone had left a stub of candle just inside the entrance, and she lit it and examined her surroundings. The occupant clearly didn't believe in tidiness.

Some of the items littering the den were typical of a boy's possessions: a stack of yellowing dime novels of the detective variety; a knife worn thin with honing, its bone handle snapped off; a pack of playing cards; a gunny sack containing cigars and matches; and several pieces of string.

Other things were more surprising: a grimy shot gla.s.s and empty bottle of whiskey; a lady's spangled garter. Zee tw.a.n.ged the garter and grinned. The grin vanished when she spotted the delicate necklace of turquoise beads she had given Christie. There were also a surprising number of containers of kerosene given there was no lamp in sight.

She replaced each item as she had found it. Catching him surrounded by this stuff oughtta do it.

The coast was still clear when Zee vacated the hideout. She hun-kered down in a nearby thicket to wait.

It was dark and the temperature had dropped considerably when something brought her back to alertness. Her subconscious had tuned out the yipping coyotes and the call of a nighthawk hunting insects, so it must be something else. She sat up and pushed back her hat, which had fallen forward while she dozed. Footsteps, she decided, hearing the faint rhythmic crunch and feeling the slight vibration accompanying them. Coming her way.

Movement caught her eye. A small figure, silhouetted by the rising moon, was heading toward the hideout. This was no innocent bystander; whoever it was knew exactly where he was going. She held her breath and waited. He should reach the entrance to the hideout about . . . now.

The silhouette disappeared from view.

Zee gave a savage grin and waited a couple of minutes more then crept toward the den. The entrance was now illuminated by the faint, flickering glow of the candle. She stationed herself just outside.

"Didn't your parents tell you it's wrong to steal?"

Joe Riker barely had time to look up from his dime novel and turn wide eyes in her direction before she was lunging into the hideout, 230 grabbing him by his collar and belt, and hauling him out into the open.

"Wha? Let me go, you b.i.t.c.h."

Arms and legs flailed, and a heel thunked into her left shin, while a fist came too close to her eyes for comfort. She plonked the thrashing boy face down in the dirt, pressed her knee into his back to keep him pinned, grabbed the coil of rope, and hog-tied him.

"Whatever it is, I didn't do it."

She straightened and dusted herself off. "You're caught; might as well get used to it."

Since his struggles were only succeeding in bringing him mouthfuls of dirt, he subsided. "But Deputy Brodie." She noted the belated politeness with a wry smile. "It wasn't me. Honest."

"Got you fair and square for theft and arson, Joe. No use protesting." She shrugged. "You played with fire and you got burned."

Ignoring her prisoner's further squawks, she ducked back inside the hideout, emptied the cigars from the gunny sack (then reconsidered and stuffed a couple of them in her pocket, along with Christie's bead necklace) and refilled it with incriminating evidence. She took one last look and blew out the candle.

Zee emerged from the hole, stretched, and inhaled an appreciative breath of cool night air. She turned to her now silent prisoner.

"On your feet, son." She yanked Joe up by his collar, then with a grunt of effort heaved him over her shoulder. "Now let's see what your parents have to say."

Chapter 14.

Bam. Bam. Bam.

Somewhere out back, dogs started barking, and inside the house a man's voice bellowed, "Adah, will you see to those dogs?"

Zee raised her fist again. Bam, bam.

"All right, all right. I'm coming."

The door swung open and Ernie Riker stood in the doorway, hair tousled, collar unb.u.t.toned. His look of annoyance intensified when he saw who had disturbed him. "Oh, it's you." He pushed up his spectacles. "What do you want?"

Zee shifted the weight draped over her shoulder into a more comfortable position. "It's about your boy."

"Our Joe?" Adah's voice came from behind her husband. "Tell her to come back tomorrow. He's in bed and I won't have him disturbed."

"No he ain't." Zee heaved the hog-tied bundle off her shoulder and lowered it, letting it drop the final foot.

"Oof!"

Riker's eyes widened as the light spilling out the door illuminated his son's face. "Joe?"

Zee straightened, glad to be free of the boy's weight. "Found him in his hideout near the river. Spends more time there than he does in school, I bet. But you wouldn't know about that, would you? You let your son run wild. No wonder he's gone to the bad."

"How dare you!" Adah pushed past her husband and crouched next to Joe. "Are you all right, son? Did she hurt you?"

"Mama, she attacked me. She tied me up and slung me over her shoulder."

Adah's lips thinned. "Disgraceful! I shall be complaining to Sheriff Hogan"

232.

"Be thankful that's all I did," interrupted Zee. "By rights Joe should be in jail, since he's the one been setting all these fires. But him being so young and all, I decided to act lenient. Besides, I don't think he's the only one to blame."

"The fires? You must be mistaken." Adah looked at her son. "She is, isn't she, Joe?"

He opened his mouth then closed it again. Adah gave him a puzzled look and set about untying the rope, giving Zee a challenging glare as she did so.

Zee shrugged and let her get on with it. "Got the evidence right here." She reached for the gunny sack hanging from her belt. "Found these in Joe's hideout."

She pulled out the items one by one. First, the playing cards. "See these?" She flipped one over to display the design on the reversea yellow lady's slipper. "Only place you can get these is the Golden Slipper." She arched an eyebrow. "Had a fire there the other day."

"Anyone could have given him those." The final knot came undone, and Adah helped Joe to his feet and hugged him. He grimaced but submitted to her embrace.

Zee pulled out the grimy shot gla.s.s. She tapped it with a fingernail, the sound ringing clear as a bell in the night air. "This is from the Last Chance Saloon. Got this lettering L C S on the base here see?" She held out the gla.s.s for inspection but Adah ignored it. "Had a fire there too."

Riker came out to stand with his wife and son, putting a burly arm round their shoulders. "So what?"

Zee displayed the spangled garter. "And this. Only one person I know wears theseDiamond Dust Kate." She saw no recognition in their eyes. "Kate works down at Angie's Palace. Had a fire there too.

See a pattern yet?"

Joe's parents exchanged perturbed glances.

Zee pulled the delicate necklace of turquoise beads from her pocket. "He had this too. Came from my place. Had a fire there today. You'll have seen the smoke from your window, Mrs.

Riker." Her lips twisted. "Shame you were too busy to help. Fire caused a lot of damage. Christie and the sixteen-year-old girl we've got staying with us coulda been killed."

Adah had the grace to look uncomfortable.

"What does any of that prove?" challenged Riker. "Our son has 233.

acc.u.mulated a few souvenirs. That doesn't prove he started the fires."

"When you take into account his stash of kerosene, it does."

"Kerosene?" Adah blinked.

"Even if he did have such a stash, as you call it," persisted Riker.

"Why would our son want to set those fires?"

Zee folded her arms. "That puzzled me too," she admitted. "But I reckon I've figured it out. The kind of places and people targeted your son did what you told him to."

Adah blinked. "How dare you! I have never, never told Joe to burn anywhere down."

"Not directly, perhaps. But every time you said the saloon and gambling den and wh.o.r.ehouse are a disgrace, every time you told him certain folks were headed straight for h.e.l.l, that's the message he got." Zee eyed the boy. "Ain't that right, Joe?"

He scuffed the dirt with his toe, and for a moment, she thought he wasn't going to answer. Maybe she'd chosen the wrong punishment.

Maybe a spell in jail would have been better for him after all.

Then he looked up and stared her straight in the eye. "They deserved it," he said. "They'll all burn in h.e.l.l anywaywh.o.r.es and gamblers and heathens the lot of them."

Adah put a hand to her mouth. "Joe!"

Zee nodded. "See? This is where all that hate talk has got you.

Way he's heading, he'll end up with a noose around his neck for sure.

But he's young, there's still time to turn him around . . ."

The glance Riker shot her was full of hatred, and she sighed. What chance did the boy have with parents like these?

"This would never have happened," he said, "if you hadn't bought that old house. When your kind move in, trouble is never far behind."

Zee ignored the jibe and gave the sullen-faced boy a stern look.

"Now listen, Joe, and listen good. I'm letting you off, but things are gonna change from now on."

Adah opened her mouth but a glare from Zee silenced her.

"If I hear you've been skipping school again," she said, "I'm taking you into custody. Any more fires, you're the first name on my list.

First sign of trouble at my place," she continued, "I'll come looking for you . . . Got it?"

Joe looked up at his parents. Adah avoided his anxious gaze, and Riker's face was so suffused with rage he couldn't speak.

Zee tried one last time. "Just so we're clear as crystal. This don't 234 happen again or you'll all have me to answer to. And believe me, I ain't called the h.e.l.lcat for nothing." She put on her fiercest glare and at last saw the fear she had been looking for appear in their eyes.

Then she turned and walked away.

GIF.