Circles in the Sand (11 page)

Before putting them back to work, Clint explained to the crew what had happened.

Kline said, “I was beginning to think there weren’t any women around here. I’d sure like to meet a mysterious one.”

“Yeah,” Alcocke said. “It’s probably a mystery what you would do, if you found one.”

“C’mon. College boy. Four years at school and still a virgin.”

“Oh yeah? I’ve had more virgins than you got cooties.”

Lance said, “Hey, lover boys. Who’s going to the Boar Pen with me Saturday night?”

Kline said, “So who’s got fifteen dollars. I don’t have the price of jack-off. You rich NCOs got plenty of money. Which one of you guys got nerve enough to spring a hundred for Marie-Elena?”

“A hundred for a whore? Who’s that crazy?” Patton said.

“You’re a newcomer, Rodger. Word is out that Fritz Deutsch will castrate any guy that gets into her pants.”

“Is she his daughter…or his wife?”

“None of the above,” Lance said. He explained the situation between Marie-Elena and Deutsch.

“This place is crazy. In more ways than one. Aren’t there more girls than her around?”

“You didn’t see the other two climbing into the bomber with Marie-Elena?”

“Oh yeah. Well those two looked like fifteen dollars for sure.” Patton said.

“Yeah, and they ain’t the only ones that work for Olivia. I just ain’t seen any of them. I heard one of them was an Indian girl,” Lance said.

“Maybe it was her buck that tried to cut a chunk out of Kline and Alcocke,” Tony Elsas said.

Kline said, “You guys thank that’s funny huh? Too bad the rest of you weren’t there to share the fun. He came so close with that tomahawk, Alcocke nearly wet himself.”

“You’re full a’ shit, Kline. You were scareder than me.”

“Okay, you guys. That’s enough bullshit.” Clint said. “Get your asses out on the runway and move that stuff back in the weeds.” He led the way, picking up two by fours. When they were through, he said to Patton. “I know the location of one target for sure. Six miles up the center road. Now that we’ve aluminum  and wood, we may as well get it built. For its triangular shape looks like it’ll need six of those eight by ten aluminum sheets and a lot of two by fours.”

After Clint watched the carry-all and deuce leave he turned to get in the Jeep.
Where the hell was it? Oh yeah, back behind Gilman’s. Shit
. He hated to pull the vehicles away from the tower crew, so he decided to walk the mile back into town.
Shouldn’t take me more’n  fifteen, twenty minutes.

When he got to the hotel, Dorris said the phone was free to use. “I mean no one else is using it. Not that its free to call Grand Eclipse.”

“Gotcha. Just hope I can get through.”  Clint spent several minutes getting through to Lieutenant Pearsall. “Things are starting to come together here.”

Pearsall said, “some more men and another deuce and a half are on the way. Oh yeah, I’m working on getting you a tractor with a blade on it. You’ll need it to clean off the target areas and maintain dirt roads out there.”

“Great. By the way a Second Lieutenant Byers came off that B-50. Only verbal orders reassigning him. Emphatic that he is not our new commander. What’s going on here?”

“What? We damn sure didn’t send him. No orders? He may be the Lieutenant that busted up not only his own plane, but damaged a B-36. That alone was a kiss of death…surprised he was turned loose. I can only guess that the flying wing sent him to get rid of him. He’s definitely not in our plans to be detachment commander. Put him to work if you can.”

“Huh? A lowly Master Sergeant ordering about a second looie? I don’t know about that, Sir.”

“Maybe if he wants to eat on the Air Force, he’ll be happy to pitch in. Good Luck.”

Maybe it’s the war in Korea, but this Air Force gets weirder and weirder.
Clint walked out to get in the Jeep. He didn’t see it. He looked around for it.
Where the hell did I leave it?
Mentally he reviewed the current location of all his troops. None of them could have taken it. Back inside the restaurant, no one there had seen anything of the Jeep. Didn’t remember seeing it this morning.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Someone has stolen my Jeep!”

“Sheriff Radecker, some sonovabitch has stolen my Jeep!”

“Calm down…tell me about it. Describe it. Where was it last?”

“It’s an O.D. Air Force Jeep. Last night I parked it behind Gilman’s hotel. This morning it’s gone.”

Radecker pulled a form from a file cabinet. “Did it have a number on it?”

“Yeah, but I don’t remember it. Got it in our records  at Q-1.”

Radecker turned to Kerns. “Got any ideas?”

“Reckon I ought to scout around and see if anyone saw it leave.”

“You do that. I’ll call the State Police to keep an eye out for it. I’ll need that serial number or what ever number it’s got on it, Greybull.”

“Right. I’ll run back up to Q-1 in my truck and find it there.”

“Sure. Check with the rest of your people. Make sure one of them doesn’t have it.”

Tommy walked outside with Clint and said, “Any idea who might have taken it? Got any enemies around here?”

“The answer to both of your questions is yes! Do you have many auto thefts around here?”

“Naw. Too few people. Everyone knows everyone else. A strange vehicle tuning up around here would raise some questions.”

“Ya know. That Jeep is government property, not mine. Maybe you ought to alert the FBI.”

Kerns looked surprised. “Huh? That’s right. Could be a federal offense.”

At Q-1, Clint dug through the pile of records that Jewel was working on, and found the Jeep serial number. He drove back down to the sheriff’s office and gave it to Kerns, and said, “Mention to the sheriff about this being a federal crime. If someone thinks the FBI is  coming in here, that might help find it.”

Tommy back at the sheriff’s office, thinking about the Jeep theft:
I wonder if someone actually stole it, or if someone is just giving the Air Force a hard time. Either way, it could still be considered a serious crime. This could be interesting.
  He said, “Hey, Heck, you know the Jeep was really government property. Maybe we ought to notify the FBI.”

Hector Radecker pushed his papers aside and glared at his deputy. “Now where did you come up with that notion?”

“Sergeant Greybull mentioned that stealing federal property is a federal crime, ain’t it?”

“You think we really want some of those ‘fibby’ pricks around here?”

“If we don’t find the thief in a hurry, don’t you have to call them?”

“I’ll be go to hell. But that gives me an idea. Why don’t you mosey over to Chet’s, and around town a little, dropping a hint that  we’re forced to call in the FBI. Might turn up that Jeep quicker if that word gets around. I’ll make some casual calls myself.”

Radecker made only one call. “Fritz, how they hanging these days?”

“Heck, I’m sure you didn’t call me to check on the posture of my testicles. What’s up?”

“Just keeping you posted. Some unknown party tossed some of those two by fours and aluminum sheets on the runway itself. First I thought them flyboys did it, but that ain’t likely. Besides that, someone stole an Air Force Jeep last night. Don’t know who. Don’t have any suspects. Not having a clue makes it tough. Lot of funny things happening around here. Stealin’ that Jeep is a federal crime. Sergeant Greybull is buggin’ me to get the FBI in here.”

“Why you tellin’ me the Air Forces’ problems? I got enough of my own.  You think I had anything to do with that stuff?”

“No, I don’t.”
Bet he knows more than I do
. “Just thought you’d want to know, in case the government gets interested in our little paradise.”

“Thanks for calling, but if I were you, I’d delay calling in any feds. They might cause more trouble than they cure.”

Tommy Kerns bought a coke in the gas station. Taking his time to drink it, he gossiped about the Jeep theft. Then he walked to Chet’s, and over a draft told the same story about the FBI coming in to investigate the Jeep theft.

At the door to the Boar Pen, Olivia said, “Since you’ve come over during the day, I suppose you’re on duty. So have you come to arrest me?”

“Oh no, Ma’am. I’m just spreading the word around that an Air Force Jeep has been stolen. The FBI may come here because of that. I just thought maybe some of your customers might want to know about that.”

Marie-Elena came up behind her step-mother. “Why officer. Do you really think anyone we know could be a hoss…er or a Jeep thief?”

“Oh no. Just a word to the wise. Who knows what can turn up from a little talk?”

“Well, If I hear anyone boasting that he’s stole a Jeep…I’ll probably forget it,” Marie-Elena said.

Tommy shrugged and headed back to the office.

Back in Q-1 Clint re-examined what plans he had for constructing the bomb site. On the site drawing he estimated where they had planted the stake for target one.
There’s enough room out here, that if we don’t put them where a surveyor would, I don’t see what difference it would make to anyone.
Sitting in the warm hut, concentrating on the drawings he felt drowsy. He became aware of a warm musky scent flowing around him. Goose bumps started at the small of his back and raced up to stand his hair upright. He raised his eyes just as the Indian stabbed his finger adjacent to Clint’s on the map.

“You can not put anything in that sacred place.”

“Huh? What?” Clint popped upright. He turned to look up at an ancient Indian who wore only a breech clout and a coyote cap. “Who the hell are you? Where did you come from?”

The Indian barked, “Do not dishonor our ancestors!”

“Huh? What are you talking about?

Clint swung his hand to grab the Indian. His fingers slid off the other’s sweaty arm skin. “Hey, wait a minute!”

The Indian snorted at Clint’s attempt to hold him  He turned and calmly strode out the door. “Come back here! Explain yourself!” Clint jumped up and tripped over his chair. At the door he looked all over for the Indian. He didn’t see him…glanced north past the runway. A dust cloud…the Indian(?)… moved rapidly away until he  seemed to disappear.
How the hell did he move so fast? How did he get out there so quick?
Clint could see there was no point in him trying to catch his visitor, if it was him.
That Indian’s one spooky son of a gun.

A few minutes later, still peering to the north, 
am I dreaming? Did I see an Indian? Maybe looking at that area caused a hallucination. Glad I haven’t had anything to drink.
Puzzled, he sat down to look at the map again.
Maybe I won’t mention this to anyone
.

Back at Gilman’s, Lorena helped her mother clean Clint’s room. In the rare times they had paying guests, Dorris hired a woman from the town who usually did the room cleaning. With the influx of the airmen, Dorris and Lorena pitched in.

Lorena said, “Can’t tell much about a man from this room. Other than some dirty clothes and saving stuff, there’s not much here.”

“What did you expect from a man who’s traveled about a lot?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I thought he might have some pictures…wife and kids…girlfriend.” She picked up a small jug of ‘Old Spice’ after shave. She pulled the plug and sniffed it. Not satisfied she splashed a drop on her wrist. “Smell this, Mom. It smells just like you’d expect from a real man.”

Dorris sniffed. “Yes that smells like him…

“He was married, and he has a girl friend. He told me…back in Grand Eclipse. He hasn’t got any mail here…from Grand Eclipse has he?”

“No…not that I know of. Maybe he picks up his mail at McCunes mail drop.”

“Well, I wish I knew more about him…you didn’t tell me he was taking you dancing.”

“So what? Do I have to get you a baby sitter while I’m gone.”

“No you don’t! Sometimes you make me so mad. What if he’s like a sailor, with a different girl at every base? Why can’t you tell me about him?”

“What’s to tell? You know as much, maybe more, than I do about him.”

“Well how do you know it’s safe to go out with him?

“So far Sergeant Greybull has acted like a perfect gentleman.”
I wonder if he really is
. “You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“Well…what if that is just a pose? What if he’s a wolf  in Sergeant’s clothing? When you’re all alone with him, what if he gets fresh with you?”

“Oh stop it, Lorena. You sound just like
my
mother on my first date. I can handle any man I go out with.”
I think… or will I?
“That’s enough. Now just quit it and get busy.”

Fritz Deutsch  sat back in his office chair, and looked out the window at his bunk house. He wondered why he hadn’t seen Basil Tree all morning. Finally he got up and headed across the lot. He found Tree fast asleep. Fritz kicked the sleeping man’s bunk so hard, that Tree sat up. “Wha, wha, hunh?”

“God damn it, wake up, Basil! Why the hell you sleepin’ so late?”

Tree swung his legs over the side of the bunk. He looked up at his boss. “Busy…late last night. Didn’t get in until early.”

“Just what the hell  were you doin’ that kept you out so late.”

“Followin’ your orders. Shaking’ up those flyboys some.”

“You dipshit! I never tole you to steal any government property. Are you crazy? That could bring the FBI in here. Puttin’ that stuff out on the runway, could be seen as just a prank. Stealing a Jeep is government property. The FBI trace that to you…an’ then me, we’re in a world of hurt.”

“Wal…it ain’t damaged. Just sittin’ in a ditch, out t’wards Glasgow.”

“Tell you what. You better let the sheriff  know where it is. Quick like. Don’t do any more stunts like that without tellin’ me first.”

“Thought you didn’t want to know. To keep yore nose clean.”

While Tree got washed up, Fritz thought about his cowboy’s last words. “Okay, okay. You can keep pushin’ them. But keep it local. Don’t want anything done that could bring in outsiders. No problem with Radecker. Wouldn’t even worry about state troopers. FBI is something else. Got that? Keep it local.”

Late morning a phone call came into the sheriff’s office. Tommy Kerns answered it. “There’s been an accident. There’s a Jeep in the ditch on the way to Glasgow.” Before he could answer or ask questions, she hung up.