Just Over The Mountain (14 page)

The deputy pounded on the door a third time and the sound of movement within caused him to step back, out of the way of a potential shotgun blast. The heavy door slowly opened.

“Mrs. Myrna Claypool? We have a search warrant for your house and grounds.”

“Oh my,” she said. “You will be careful, won’t you? Most of my things are antiques.”

A
fter Jim’s departure, June couldn’t go back to bed. To go there alone was out of the question. She lifted the pillow he had used and took it with her to the chair in the corner of the room. She sat there, breathing in the scent of him, hoping it would last a good long time. She was thinking of not washing the pillow slip until his return.

She decided to take this opportunity of being up extra early to drive by Culley Stables. It might have been on account of the night she’d spent with Jim, which had left her feeling sentimental toward all couples. Or perhaps the fact that relationships suddenly felt so fragile, so vulnerable. Or maybe it was just that she had not looked in on Daniel and Blythe Culley since their troubles began. Whatever the reason, she felt drawn to them.

Daniel was recovering from angioplasty, but she knew he’d be up before dawn. Men like Daniel, whose
livelihood lay with the land and animals, worked long hard days, never rested much, never took time off, never pampered themselves. It was a doctor’s bane to know that, no matter how crucial bedrest might be to a patient, these old farmers, ranchers and the like could not be kept still for long.

But when she drove up to the house, she was startled by the lack of activity. There were lights on in the house, but Daniel’s truck was gone and the stable was still dark. No dogs came running to greet her. The porch light didn’t automatically flash on at the sound of a vehicle. Maybe she had misjudged. Maybe this was the single patient who would stay down and rest a while.

“Gee, Sadie, maybe we ought not—”

But then the light did come on, and slowly the door opened. There stood Blythe in her overalls, squinting into the darkness.

“Well, Sadie, looks like we might get a cup of coffee after all.” Sadie made a sound of agreement and began to wiggle in happiness. June killed her engine and got out of the truck. “Hey, Blythe,” she called. Blythe didn’t return the greeting, but just stood in the doorway. Funny, June thought, she’d never before been unfriendly. Then again, she’d been through a lot, first losing her husband to another woman, then almost losing him to a heart attack. June climbed the steps to the porch. “I thought I’d run by on my way to the clinic and see how Daniel’s doing after his procedure. And how you’re doing.”

“I’m doing the same, I reckon,” she said with that
lilting Kentucky cadence. “If you have a mind to check on Daniel, you won’t be finding him here.”

June was brought up short, though when she thought about it, she shouldn’t have been. Sarah had been with him at the hospital, not Blythe. “Where is he, Blythe?”

“Oh, I think you know.”

The angry lines almost cracked Blythe’s usually cheerful face. She was pale and drawn, her eyes flat, her hair stringy. It appeared she hadn’t been sleeping much.

June whiffed the air. Aha! She might not have slept, but she’d gotten up and put the coffee on like always. “Can I talk you out of a cup of coffee?” June asked. It wasn’t that she craved the coffee so much, but this woman was in trouble. Patient or not, you don’t walk away from a neighbor in trouble.

“I haven’t got time to dawdle. There’s a lot that needs doing today.” But she held the door open so that June could come in.

June told Sadie to stay on the porch and stepped into the house. What she saw stunned her. Moving boxes were scattered around the living room and dining room and Blythe appeared to be packing household goods into them. The dining table was covered with earthenware and glassware; the living-room couch was covered with stacks of linens.

“Blythe, what’s going on?”

“I’d appreciate it if you’d keep this between us, June. Daniel has himself a new partner and I’ve made up my mind to move on.”

“Move? But where?”

“I haven’t quite decided that, but maybe south. Maybe back to Kentucky. And to tell the truth, I always wanted to see Florida.”

“What does Daniel say?”

Blythe smiled, but it was a mean smile. “You don’t reckon I need to get his permission, do you? He seems to have made up his own mind about what he wants.”

Blythe walked into the kitchen and June followed. There was more order in there; only a couple of boxes, already closed and labeled, sat in the corner. Blythe pulled a cup off the wall rack and poured. June took a seat at the kitchen table.

“Sit down with me, will you, Blythe? And tell me about it?”

Blythe put the cup of coffee in front of June, then fetched her own from the counter. She didn’t sit down as invited, but merely turned toward June, leaning against the sink, holding her cup with two hands. “There isn’t anything to tell, June. Daniel found himself a woman he feels at home with.” The anger seemed to melt from her eyes and was replaced by sadness. “I don’t even have bad will for Sarah.” She shrugged. “I liked her once.”

“Blythe, I know this is very painful, but you must remember, divorce isn’t unknown in this valley. You aren’t the first person to suffer through it and you won’t be the last. But this is your
home.
Your livelihood! You don’t have to give that up, too. You and Daniel can work out some arrangement…”

Blythe looked away impatiently. She sighed heavily,
as if to say, “What do you know about it?” Then she looked back and said, “What do I want with all the talk?” she asked. “The humiliation of it.”

June reached toward Blythe, but the other woman drew back. “That’s just it, Blythe,” June said. “We might hear a little chatter about Daniel and Sarah, but it won’t last long. And no one’s going to hold it against you. You’re the underdog here. You’ll get sympathy and understanding!”

Blythe made a derisive sound. “You’re right, that sounds so much more appealing.”

“Oh, Blythe, don’t run away…”

Blythe merely looked down into her coffee cup. June held her tongue, knowing she shouldn’t harangue her. Maybe she could find someone who Blythe might listen to.

“I’m just thinking of it being a fresh start, is all,” Blythe said. “If Daniel can start over, I can start over.”

Something occurred to June. “I didn’t see anyone around the stable,” she said.

“Since Daniel fell ill, we’re just boarding, not training or breeding. I let all but two hands go and had most of the stock returned or sent to another stable. When Daniel’s better and wants to work again, he can do what he wants.”

She’s giving up everything, June thought. Giving up and slinking away, ashamed that she lost her man. It was so painful to see. What would become of her now?

“Are you planning to leave soon?”

“I’d like to go right away, but there’s always one
more detail. As soon as I can get everything organized. I might want to kill him, but I’m not going to leave him a mess that he’d just have
her
clean up.”

June studied that statement. On the surface, it sounded angry. But underneath, Blythe was saying that she wanted to go, yet didn’t want to go. Which would be perfectly normal.

“I guess I’ll be going then,” June said. “If there’s any way I can help you with this, will you call me at least?”

“There isn’t anything to be done, June. I thank you for caring, but there’s no need to say anything about this, either.”

“Do you imagine you can sneak away without anyone knowing?”

With a hurt tone, she said, “That doesn’t seem to be necessary. These things I’m packing are mine. I’m not taking anything of Daniel’s, so don’t feel you have to warn him. I may have it all stored till I put down roots somewhere.”

June just nodded. She made to leave and then turned, opened her arms and clumsily hugged Blythe. Blythe hugged back, even more awkwardly. Then June left with a heavy heart.

It didn’t take her long to make her decision. First of all, Blythe wasn’t a patient, she was a friend. Not a close friend, not a confidante, but someone June had known for twenty years. And she hadn’t made any promises to keep any secrets. Blythe had worked beside Daniel for decades, building a stable worth considerable money, and she was packing up her glasses and towels and
running away. Giving up the battle to save herself embarrassment. June just couldn’t let her go.

She drove straight to Sarah Kelleher’s house where, indeed, she saw Daniel’s truck parked outside.

Tom was usually the first one into the office in the morning, unless some police business called him before morning even arrived. He would routinely listen to any messages left on the answering machine during the night, look at the headlines on the five newspapers that were delivered to the police department, check the schedule to see when Ricky and Lee would be working, look over his appointments, then head down to George’s for his complimentary coffee and the first gossip of the day.

This morning he found Chris Forrest waiting for him at the door. By his posture and expression, this wasn’t a friendly visit. “Morning, Chris,” he said.

“Tom,” Chris returned with a nod. “Got a minute?”

“Got several. Come on in.” He picked up his newspapers from the front step and piled them on top of the leather folder full of reports he carried from home. Paperwork traveled with him daily, from home to office to home.

He opened up the door and preceded Chris into the office. He let Chris follow him down the hall where he put his papers and folders on his desk. Then he turned to his old friend who he understood was no longer a good friend of his. “What’s up?”

“Our boys. They’ve got some issues.”

Tom’s left eyebrow lifted into a questioning arc. “That so? Like?”

“Like, they’ve been fighting.”

“How do you know this?”

“What do you mean, how do I know?” Chris shot back, anger in his voice. “My guys have black eyes and bloody noses. They’re bruised up pretty good. They were real reluctant to snitch, but they said Johnny and a bunch of Indian friends jumped them!”

“What?” Tom asked, a smile breaking across his face in spite of himself.

“You heard me. That pack he hangs with.”

Tom laughed outright. “Give me a break,” he said. “Johnny doesn’t run with any pack of Indians. Or, as we PC people like to refer to them, Native Americans. Their tribal names will work, also.”

Chris plunged his hands into his pockets, a sour expression on his face. “When we were kids, you were an Indian.”

“When we were kids, you weren’t such an asshole.”

“You saying my boys lied?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“They wouldn’t lie about that. It was hard enough for me to get them to tell. Why would they make up a story?”

“Because they jumped Johnny and he fought his way out of it. Because there was one of him and two of them and they
still
lost. Because they’re in trouble a lot, Chris. They’re vandals and sometimes thieves, but they can’t fight. Can’t fight worth a damn.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“No, it’s not. It’s true and you know it.”

“That’s just what Johnny wanted you to—”

“Johnny didn’t tell me how it was. He wouldn’t, even under pressure. But I’ve been wise to this trouble for a while now. And I watch real closely. Here’s one little thing I know. Johnny’s a lot stronger and tougher than the twins. He came home the other day looking like he’d run into that pack of Indians you’re talking about. Now I ask you, genius, if Johnny and some pack jumped the twins, would Johnny have a mark on him?”

“Why would the twins jump Johnny?”

“Think about it, Chris. Where’s your head?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked again, genuinely stumped.

“Johnny and the twins started out friends, right? Johnny was pretty excited about them coming to town. Then cars started getting egged on the highway. A bunch of kids were running from the scene but I caught one—and he turned out to be mine. He wouldn’t tell me who he was with, but he was done with the twins. They don’t hang together anymore, Chris. They haven’t for quite a while. Did you even know that?”

“Well, I—I guess I haven’t seen Johnny in—”

“A few weeks,” Tom reinforced. “At least. Then I caught them stealing eggs from the bakery the other night. I suppose they think I’m too dumb to have figured things out, that the only way I could’ve known is if Johnny ratted them out.”

Chris frowned and shook his head as if shaking loose
the cobwebs. “You build up this whole scenario without any evidence? Of any kind?”

Tom was incredulous. He looked skyward, his mouth open slightly, and shook his head. Then he looked back at Chris. “Yeah, Chris, without any evidence at all. Right up until I saw their hands in the refrigerator, pulling out the eggs.”

“But…what I mean is…”

The phone began to ring, distracting Chris. “Gimme a second,” Tom said. He lifted the phone. “Tom Toopeek,” he said. He never called himself Chief or answered “Police department.” The way he saw it, he was as much a neighbor as an officer of the law.

A dark and angry look crossed his features. “When did they get there?” he asked. He listened carefully. “You just sit tight and stay out of their way. I’ll be right there. Are you okay?” He listened. “Good. I’m on my way.”

He hung up the phone and told Chris he would have to finish their conversation later. There was an emergency. He ran down the hall, causing Chris to move pretty fast behind him and out the door so Tom could lock up. Leaving Chris on the stoop, Tom jumped in his Range Rover and, with lights and siren going, wasted no time getting to Myrna Claypool’s house. He wasn’t worried about her safety just yet. But he was thoroughly pissed.

June found Daniel and Sarah having a cozy little breakfast on her patio. He was wearing a sweater that looked to be handmade, and there was a throw over his
legs, but underneath all this was jeans, boots and a cow-boyish-looking plaid shirt. Underneath her fussings he was still a rancher and stable owner. But he sure did look comfortable in her care.

First she asked, “How are you feeling, Daniel?”

“I’m feeling almost normal,” he said. He lifted his cup to his lips, sipped, put it down and said, “Decaf.” He pointed to the remnants of eggs on his plate and said, “Egg-beaters. No fat, no cholesterol.”

She nodded, though something told her that if Blythe had provided these things, he’d be complaining about this treatment. He’d demand his bacon and butter and would’ve given that lap throw to the dog. But this wasn’t really anyone’s fault. Sarah’s house was like a nest, while the house he shared with Blythe had always been functional. Practical. “Very good, Daniel,” she said. “Diet is the first line of defense.”