Death on the High Lonesome (26 page)

“Thanks for telling me that. I'd like to hear more about my mother from you.” For the next hour while they cleaned the plate and sipped their beer Virgil talked. Virginia hung on every word.

“So you never said what you were doing down in Redbud.”

“Oh, I've been working there since the pecan harvest. It's a busy time. The start of a new year.”

“How's everything going? I mean with the business.”

“Good. Caleb and Uncle Micah are working a lot more together. They're talking about more expansion, maybe getting into retail. I suggested maybe starting off with mail order. The harvest was better than expected this year.”

“Is that something you would be interested in?” Virgil asked. “I mean, careerwise?”

“I'm not sure. Remember, I'm going back after Christmas
for one more semester. Guess it's time to start thinking about my future. Don't forget your promise. We're going to spend some time together around Christmas.”

“Looking forward to it. By the way, I'd like you to meet your mother's best friend. She's married to Doc Kincaid. A real nice lady. I told Doc about you. About us. He said she's going to want to meet you.”

Virginia had stood up from the table, then grabbed her jacket, which was hanging on the back of a chair. Virgil stood also. Then they both started for the door.

The air was much colder. They stood together on the porch, their breath rising into the night.

“I'd like to meet Mom's friend. How did you tell Dr. Kincaid?”

“What do you mean?” Virgil asked. “I just said you were my daughter.”

Virginia smiled, looking at Virgil. “That's a coincidence. When I was in the office today, one of the drivers came in and we were talking for a while. Then he asked me my last name. I told him Dalton. Then he said that's the same name as the sheriff. I told him that was right because the sheriff is my dad.”

She reached up, gave Virgil a kiss, then ran down the steps to her car, disappearing into the night. Virgil stood there a long time looking after her. He had never been called Dad before.

V
irgil knew there had been a change before his eyes were half open. It could happen like that in these parts. It sounded like someone throwing pebbles against the window. He remembered how cold it had been the night before when he and Virginia were standing on the porch. He didn't recall seeing the moon or any stars, but beyond the cold, the recollection of other things warmed him. There were going to be a lot of stops along the way today he knew, but before he made any of them he began with a call. The phone rang only once before it was picked up.

“Reservation police, Sandra Redfern. How can I help you?”

“Sandra, Virgil Dalton here. Has Billy come in yet?”

“No, no, Virgil. That's why I'm here early. He wanted to go check on your grandfather first, before he started his day.”

“Why, what's up?”

“Well, since he had the fall, Billy's been going there each morning to make sure he's set up for the day. Mrs. Hoya isn't coming back until tomorrow.”

Virgil didn't want to advertise his lack of knowledge or neglect.

“Okay, Sandra, thanks. I'll probably catch up with him there.”

Virgil knew when he hung up the phone that another stop was added to his list. He jumped into the shower, then dressed in record time. Downstairs, he wolfed down an English muffin and a glass of juice, pausing only over a hot cup of coffee. He would have liked to sit over a second one to jump-start his engine, but knew that would have to wait. When he stepped outside onto the porch, the day effectively did what the second cup of coffee would have. A blast of the coldest air he'd felt since the previous winter hit him in the face, shaking him into full consciousness. When he reached the last of the five steps that led to the path, he almost took a header. Only his quick grab on the side rail kept him from going down. As he looked around he realized that a glaze of ice coated the landscape. He made his way a bit more carefully to his cruiser. When he got in he had to hit the defrost button, something that he hadn't done in a long time. The icy rain that had been pelting his window had stopped, but had left its residue. Within a couple of minutes the windshield wipers had cleared the last of the icy remnants from his field of vision. A little over a half hour later he had busted through Hayward, almost reaching his grandfather's turnoff. The roads down had been a little slick, but he knew that the ground still held on to its heat, so he didn't hesitate when he reached the road up to the mesa. Billy's car was still there, parked to the left of the double-wide. When he stepped inside the trailer, the two of them, Billy Three Hats and his grandfather, were sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee.

“Virgil, what a nice surprise,” his grandfather said.

“Not like the one I got this morning when I called Billy's office. What happened to you and why didn't you tell me?”

“I didn't want you to worry. It was just a little fall.”

“Not so little. He tore a bunch of ligaments in his ankle when he fell climbing down off the tableland driving the sheep. He's lucky he didn't break it.”

As Billy spoke, the old man glared at him.

“Just for the record, recall what you told me last summer, when I had the aneurysm. Well, that's a two-way street. It's my job to worry about you just as it's yours to worry about me.”

“You're right, Virgil. I'm sorry, but I'm getting along fine now. Billy or one of his sons has been stopping by. Mrs. Hoya will be back from visiting her sister tomorrow. She will take care of me.”

“Isn't it about time for you to stop calling her Mrs. Hoya?”

Grandfather gave a little wink. “I call her other names, but not when my relatives are around.”

“Okay, I'm not going there,” Virgil said.

“Sit, have some coffee. It is fresh. Billy made it right before you came.”

Virgil went over to the cabinet above the sink, got a mug out, then filled it. “I'm sorry I haven't been up here sooner.”

“We know you've been busy. Heard about Charlie and his wife,” Billy said.

Virgil shook his head, then took a drink and set the mug down on the table. “Yeah, ain't had a lot of free time lately. Remember, Billy, when we used to watch late-night Saturdays, years ago? If it ain't one thing, it's another, like Roseannadanna said.”

Billy laughed out loud at the reference. “Truer words were never spoken,” he said while Virgil took another drink from his mug.

“By the way, long as I'm here I wanted to ask you
something. Have you had any energy companies approach you about oil or gas exploration on the reservation?”

“Actually, we had a couple in recent months. They'd like to send teams of geologists in to assess the potential. There's one or two proposals that are being considered that are before the tribal council now. They haven't been put up for public debate yet. That ought to be interesting when it happens.”

“Grandfather, how do you feel about that idea?” Virgil asked.

Chato sat back in his chair, looking into his empty cup before responding. “You know, back when they brought the Cherokee into Oklahoma, they kept pushing them off the good land until they figured the land they finally got them on was about the poorest. Only then was the government happy. But one day some poor Cherokee farmer who didn't give up on that land went out to dig a furrow to plant a crop. Instead, what he got was a puddle of oil. That poor land became the most valuable in the state. The Cherokees got rich. I call that payback. So, if this land wants to offer us something to make our lives a little easier, I sure don't object.” Billy and Virgil exchanged glances.

“Grandpa, I don't know how true that story was but, Billy, when they hold that public forum, I think you ought to bring him there to tell it.”

Billy shook his head.

*   *   *

“Where are you going in your new uniform?” Rosie asked Virgil.

“Well, I didn't want to wear it the first time on an ordinary day. So I figured I'd put it on going over to Simpson's. They're having a brief service for Vernon, then the burial. It was either going to be street clothes or the new uniform. I reckoned the uniform makes people take a little more notice.”

“Who did you have in mind?”

“Well, I'm kind of looking forward to meeting Calvin Thompson. He's been pretty hard to come by and I have a few questions.”

“That reminds me, that woman from that oil and gas company called. She said to tell you that Calvin and Vernon had worked for Coastal. Vernon in a fairly minor capacity, but Calvin worked in contracts. She said he more than likely worked with Linda Murchison on more than one occasion. She also left next-of-kin information on Linda Murchison. I wrote it all up. It's on your desk.”

Virgil picked up the paper Rosie referred to, then let out a sigh.

“Guess there's no putting it off.”

He picked up the phone and punched in the number listed on the paper for Linda Murchison's next of kin. The phone rang three or four times. Virgil was almost hoping that no one would pick up, but he knew if that happened, he was just postponing the inevitable. Finally, when he was expecting voice mail to pick up, a feminine voice obviously out of breath answered.

“Mrs. Taylor?” Virgil asked.

“Yes, sorry about that. Just came in from chasing the kids in the backyard. Out of breath.”

It was more than Virgil wanted to hear. He was picturing now in his head a young housewife and mother, probably Linda Murchison's sister, who had no idea he was about to ruin her day. By the time he got off the phone about twenty minutes later, his own emotions were on knife edge. Rosita heard most of the conversation, noted the change in Virgil's face. When he set the phone down, she brought a glass of ice water to him.

“Here, Virgil. Take a couple of minutes. Drink this.” He took the offering, then put it to his lips. “For what it's worth, after what I heard, if I ever had to get a phone call like that, I'd want it to come from someone like you. Virgil, you definitely raise the bar for members of your sex.”

“You keep saying those kinds of things, I'm going to have to put you in for a raise.”

He stood up, took his hat off the desk. “Well, now I'm really in the mood for a visit to a funeral home.”

*   *   *

He wasn't expecting many people when he stepped inside Simpson's. There wasn't even the greeter at the door. For Velma, there had been the sound of conversation as soon as he and Cesar had stepped through, along with some muted laughter during the exchange of reminiscences between folks who had shared in Velma's life. For Vernon, just the sound of silence. He had been too long out of reach. A couple of people near enough Vernon's age that they might have been in school with him or played on a team with him. Other than that, there were Marian and Charlie sitting together across from the coffin, which was closed. A few other people mostly sitting, looking as though in some cases they might have been related. Virgil knew Charlie had a younger sister and brother. Velma grew up an only child after losing her brother. He scanned the room, looking for someone who might be Calvin, but came up empty. So he walked over to Marian and Charlie. Marian stood when she saw him approaching, then took a few steps toward him. Charlie, head bent, remained in his chair.

“Thanks for stopping, Virgil. I know you're busy.”

“Not that busy, Marian, that I can't take a little time out for something like this. Like Rosie said, you've had more than your share lately.”

“Guess life comes in bunches sometimes.”

“Yeah, I've noticed that. How's your dad doing?”

“Believe it or not, I think some of the starch has finally been taken out of him. But I know he'll bounce back. The doctor told me I could take him home after the cemetery. He just needs some rest and quiet time. I think the ranch is best for that. I think he gets a lot of his strength just being there, if you know what I mean.”

Virgil, thinking of his last twenty-four hours, nodded.

“Needs to recharge his batteries. We all do from time to time. I was wondering if your brother was going to be here.” Virgil saw an immediate reaction to his inquiry. “Is there something wrong, Marian?”

She hesitated. “Wrong. No, not wrong. Odd. Strange, maybe.”

“Anything you want to tell me?”

She sat down in the nearest chair after seeing that a couple had sat next to Charlie. “You are about the only one I can talk to about this. On some level I feel guilty about some of the things I told you, up on the mesa. I mean, you heard me saying things about my brothers, particularly Calvin, which now seem terrible. Maybe I was all wrong. I mean, oh, I don't know. I'm just confused.”

“What's changed?” Virgil asked.

For the next few minutes she told Virgil about how Calvin went to the hospital, trying to talk Charlie into selling him the ranch.

“I was shocked when Dad told me. I mean, Calvin couldn't get away from High Lonesome quick enough. Now he wants it?
It made no sense. Dad of course at first thought maybe it meant his wildest dream of operating the place with a son was going to come true. But Calvin as much as told him there would be no place for him there. Dad was completely deflated when I came in. Guess he didn't see any other option. That's when I told him what I planned to do. Virgil, he lit up like a Christmas tree. Even the doctor saw it when he came in to check on him. Said whatever I told him was the best medicine he could have gotten. Today, when Calvin came in, I took him into another room. Then I told him what I had planned. How Dad was behind it one hundred percent. How there was no way he was going to get his hands on High Lonesome.”

“Well, what happened? How did he take it?”

Again, Virgil saw her immediate reaction.

“That's what has me second-guessing about what I've thought all these years about him and Vernon. When I first told him, I thought he'd fly into a rage. Instead, he became real quiet. Didn't say anything at first. It was almost like he was contemplative. But there was no outburst. When he finally spoke, it was like it was coming from a different person, someone I didn't know. He even actually smiled. Then he said something odd. ‘Guess we always have to plan for an alternative ending.' That was it. Then he said he had to leave for a little while, but he'd be back for the final act. Then he left. I don't know—it wasn't at all what I expected from him. Have I been wrong? Misjudging him all these years? Has he changed into someone I never knew?”