Cripple Creek Part 17

"Who knows? But it's pretty much destroyed."

"We should get a bunch of people together," June said. "Go up there and help them rebuild."

We all looked at her. She was right. Sympathy had been gathering in the town for some time, since the day of the funeral for the boy Nathan's dog had killed. The camp's destruction, along with June's urging, put that sympathy over the top. In ensuing months, furniture, lumber, clothing, household goods, and a lot of time and effort would go up into those hills, all of us the better for it.

Lonnie shook his head. "Just kids."

"Just kids."

"You must have thought . . ."

"Of course we did."

"Anything further on that?"

"Nothing substantial, no. Eldon and I were just talking about it, wondering how long this has to go on."

"Once it starts . . ." Lonnie got up and poured himself another cup of coffee. "Some of these families have grudges reaching back to the day the first caveman said 'Hey look at me, I can walk upright!' They don't know any other way."

"You have to cut the head off," Don Lee said, speaking for the first time. "You cut the head off, it dies."

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT.

I 'M GOING TO SKIP ahead here, past Monday and Tuesday, to the aftermath.

The call from Memphis came on a bright morning, Wednesday.

Unable to sleep, I'd been shuffling papers and creating unnecessary files since 3 a.m. I was looking out the window, watching Bill from the Gulf station teaching his kid to ride a bike down the middle of Cherry Street, when the phone rang. A spider had built a spectacular web in the corner of the window. The web and bright-colored joints of the spider's legs caught morning sunlight like prisms.

"Sheriff's office."

"Turner?"

"You got him."

"Sam Hamill here."

"Always a pleasure."

"Sure it is."

"I a.s.sume you're not calling just to say h.e.l.lo."

"Not hardly." He held his hand over the receiver for a momenta"to speak offstage, as it were. Then he was back.

"Thing is, something strange has just happened up this way."

"It usually does."

"I've got a body."

I waited.

"Two, actually. But only the one that matters. Man goes by the name of Jorge Aleche?"

"When?"

"Some time between noon and four yesterday, him and the bodyguard. Why do you ask?"

"Curiosity. What is it exactly that I can do for you, Sam?"

"I don't suppose there's any chance you'd have been back in town, right?"

"None at all. Been a little busy down this way, too."

"So I heard." After a moment he added: "I spoke to Sheriff Bates. Sorry about the shooting. He said you got the one who did it, though."

"The one who pulled the trigger, anyway."

"Well, it looks like someone may have gone a little deeper in country, if you know what I mean. 'Bout as far in as you can go, matter of fact. You think that's what happened, Turner?"

"Possible."

"I tried calling the current sheriff, one J.T. Burke, and was told by . . . just a minute . . . Mabel? Do I have that right?"

"Mabel. Right."

"Told me the sheriff was off on official business and would return my call as soon as possible. Little before that, I tried someone named Don Leea""

"Acting sheriff."

"What I was told. So there's this Mabel person, secretary by the name of June, two or three sheriffs that I know of. You got one h.e.l.l of a staff for a town that size."

"We take turns. Monday's my day as crossing guard."

"Sure it is. Anyway, the wife said this Don Lee was under the weathera"recently sustained some injuries, I understand?a"and was resting, and unless it was really important she didn't want to disturb him."

"Is there a message I can give Sheriff Burke for you, Sam?"

"What it comes down to is, since no one else seems to be available, here I am talking to you."

"Likewise."

"In an official capacity."

"Hold on then, let me get my badge and gun."

What sounded suspiciously like a snort came over the line.

"Never change, do you?"

"All the time."

"Given the possibility of a connection between the series of attacks youVe suffered and the shootings herea""

"Not much gets past you boys, does it?"

"a"MPD believes it important to extend our investigation. I have instructions to request a full local investigation, and to hand off responsibility for that investigation to your office. I'm doing so with this call."

"But suh, we don't knowa""

"Shut up, Turner. Just be glad the FBI's not on its way down there."

He was right, of course.

"Turner . . ."

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry for the way this went down. All of it."

"Thanks, Sam."

"We'll be expecting your reports, then. In due time. No particular hurry-up, we've got our hands full."

"Business as usual."

"G.o.d's truth. And Turner . . ."

"Yeah?"

"You do get up this way again, you should think about giving Tracy Caulding a call. For some twisted reason, the woman likes you."

"I know you find it hard to believe, Sam, but people do."

"Go figure. . . . One h.e.l.l of a world, ain't it?"

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE.

IT SURE AS h.e.l.l IS.

I didn't know exactly what it was that MPD expected us to investigate, but over the next several days I made gestures in that direction. J. T. had taken time off to head back up to Seattlea" "thing or two I need to take care of." She'd left right before it happened, so I was pretty much running things.

I swung by Don Lee's that afternoon to see if he might be up to coming in to help. Patty Ann answered the door and told me how sorry she was. She said Don Lee was sleeping. The yeasty, rich smell of baking came from inside.

"He doing okay?" I asked.

"Just fine."

"Heard he'd been feeling bad."

She looked at me a moment before saying, "It comes and goes. Kind of like Donald." She ducked her eyes, then added: "I can get him up for you."

"No, no. He needs his rest. Have him call me?"

"I'll do that. Time for a piece of pie before you go? I was just about to take it out of the oven."

"Best be going, but thanks."

Her gaze held mine. Something was pushing from inside, something that wanted to be said (about what had happened? about Don?) but never made it to the surface.

I stopped to help Sally Miller, whose car had stalled outside town, and pulled in at Lonnie's just behind Himself. He wore the usual khakis, which he must buy by the dozen, and a blue shirt. He had a sport coat tossed over one shoulder, his book bag over the other. The bag, he'd liberated from June years ago when she graduated high school, and now he took it everywhere. G.o.d knows what all's in there.

"Been on a jaunt, have we?"

"Little business I had to take care of, couldn't put it off any longer. How're you holding up?"

"I'm all right."

"Figuring I'd grab some late lunch and head down to the office, see what I could do to help."

Shirley opened the door as we stepped onto the porch. She gave me a hug, then hugged Lonnie. Inside she had a plate of sandwiches already made, fresh coffee in one of those pots that look like small urns.

"Call ahead and place an order?" I said.

He shrugged. Shirley smiled, said she was praying for us, and excused herself.

As he ate and I drank coffee, I told him about the call from Memphis.

"Full local investigation my a.s.s," Lonnie said when I finished. Picking a divot of celery from between his teeth, he asked, "Those kids on the mountain doing okay?"

"Isaiah's back with them, cast and all. With everyone pitching in like they have, it's beginning to look good up there."