The Persian Pickle Club (15 page)

“The women’s all right, but they’s sure had a scare,” Blue said, getting out of the car.

Tom yanked opened the passenger door, and Rita fell into his arms. Tom picked her up and started for the house, then remembered me. “Queenie?”

“Help me, Tom,” I whispered. I slid out of the car and clutched his arm with both my hands. I couldn’t have walked to the house without him.

We had reached the porch steps before I remembered Blue and turned back to the car. He was not there. “Blue!” I called, but there was no answer in the darkness. Blue Massie was gone.

Tom phoned Grover and asked him to come and get me, telling him I’d had car trouble. He said that so Grover wouldn’t be alarmed, but he also didn’t want people to know what had happened. A call that late at night got everybody out of bed to find out what was going on, and most of them had been listening in earlier when Tom called Nettie to ask where we were. Even if folks didn’t know about the man on the road, Rita and I were going to be the talk of Harveyville for staying out so late.

After he hung up, Mrs. Ritter, who’d heard the commotion, came down the stairs to the kitchen, where we were waiting for Grover.

“My stars!” she said when she saw Rita and me sitting at the table, holding on to each other. Reaching across the oilcloth, Mrs. Ritter took the shoe out of Rita’s hand and dropped it on the floor. She removed a sweater from a hook by the back door and handed it to me so that I could cover my ripped dress. Mrs. Ritter rubbed her eyes on the sleeve of her bathrobe before she stirred up the fire in the cookstove and put on water for tea. Then she bustled around the kitchen, setting out bread and a dish of butter. When there’s trouble, women just naturally think of food, although there was no need for it this time. My throat was so tight, I couldn’t eat a bite, and the way she kept swallowing, I knew Rita couldn’t, either. By the time Mrs. Ritter sat down at the table with us, Grover was at the door.

The minute I saw Grover, I was embarrassed, and turned away from him, refusing to look him in the eye. I was glad the sweater covered up my torn dress, because I was so ashamed.

“Some man out on the road stopped them—” Tom started to explain. Rita and I had told Tom only a little of what had happened to us.

Grover put up his hand, and Tom stopped. “Are you all right, Queenie?” Grover asked. I nodded, my eyes on my lap, where my hands twitched, just as Ella’s had earlier that day.

“Look at me, Queenie,” Grover said softly. I raised my head as slowly as I could, glancing at him, then turning to the stove, where the teakettle was boiling. I couldn’t stand to look at Grover while he studied me. He said a cussword when he saw my swollen face. I knew he’d already taken in my ripped dress and the scratches on my legs. I waited for him to speak, hoping he wouldn’t be cross with me for driving so late at night. Even though I could not have left Nettie’s any earlier, I laid the blame for what had happened upon myself. After what Rita and I had been through, however, I couldn’t stand to have Grover fuss at me.

“Queenie, are you sure you’re all right?” Grover asked again.

“Yes,” I said in a squeaky voice. “He didn’t... He didn’t have time ...”

“Oh Jesus!” Grover said with what sounded like a sob, and grabbed me out of my chair. He hugged me so hard, I could barely breathe. Then he sat down and pulled me onto his lap, and I looked up at him. There were tears in his eyes. I’d never seen Grover cry, even when I lost the baby. “Are you sure he …” Grover swallowed hard and didn’t finish, but I knew what he was asking.

“No. Blue stopped him,” I said.

“Wait a minute. I forgot about him. Was that hired man in on this?” Tom asked.

“Oh, no,” I said quickly. “Blue saved us. If he hadn’t come along then … Isn’t that right, Rita?”

Rita didn’t answer. Instead, she put her head down on the kitchen table and began to cry. Tom patted her back, and Rita sat up and threw her arms around him. “I hate this stinking place, Tom. I hate it. I’ll never feel safe here again after this ugly thing. I swear to God, Tom, I’d sell my soul to get off this damn farm.”

I glanced at Mrs. Ritter, but there was nothing in her face except sympathy. She got up from her chair and filled the teapot with boiling water, let it steep, and poured the tea into four cups, which she set on the table. Then she hugged Rita and me and patted Tom’s arm. “I’ll let you young folks be alone. There’s no need to tell Dad or Agnes till morning.”

I waited until I heard the bedroom door close. Then I started at the beginning, telling Tom and Grover everything that had happened.

When I finished, Grover hit the table with his fist. “That son of a bitch. When I catch him, I swear I’ll pull out his nuts with pliers!”

“Save one of them for me!” Tom told him.

Rita hadn’t said a word since Mrs. Ritter went to bed. She’d just sat there, stirring her tea with her finger, Tom’s arm still around her. “Honey, are you okay?” he asked.

Rita didn’t answer or even nod. She licked her fingertip, and suddenly, she turned to me. “Was that Skillet? That man, was he Skillet?”

“Skillet?” Tom asked. “Who’s Skillet?”

“Ben Crook’s old hired man,” Grover explained, a puzzled look on his face. “He hasn’t been around in a year. Maybe more. Was it him, Queenie?”

“No. It wasn’t Skillet,” I said. “I’d have known Skillet. It was a tramp.”

“Are you sure?” Rita asked.

“I’m sure. Skillet had a face like a wedge of pumpkin pie. This man’s face was round.” I shuddered when I pictured him. “He had a lot of hair, too. Skillet was almost bald.”

“What made you think it was Skillet?” Tom asked. He let go of Rita long enough to sip his tea; then he put his arm around her shoulder again.

“Because somebody is out to get me. Queenie and me,” she replied. “I’m sure of it.”

I sucked in my breath. “He wasn’t anybody I ever saw. He was a drifter. How would he have known we were coming along?” Even with the sweater on, I began shivering again, thinking that man might have been waiting just for the two of us.

“I don’t think so, Queenie,” Rita said slowly. “1 think it has to do with Ben Crook’s murder. Somebody’s trying to stop us from finding out who did it, and whoever he was, he knew we were at Nettie’s tonight. Who wouldn’t with that party line? So he waited for us. He meant to kill us.”

“Honey, it was just a coincidence. He was a tramp,” Tom said, squeezing her and giving her a kiss on the side of her head.

“Maybe so, but it wouldn’t hurt to mention it to the sheriff,” Grover said.

I was shocked. “Oh, no, Grover. We can’t tell. I don’t want anybody to know about this!”

I still sat on Grover’s lap, and he put his chin on top of my head. “Queenie, if we don’t tell the sheriff, then the man who tried to hurt you will go after somebody else, and you wouldn’t want that to happen, would you?”

“But I can’t talk about this, Grover. I just can’t,” I said. “I want to go home now.” I tried to stand up, but my legs wobbled. So Grover picked me up, and after Rita and I hugged each other, Grover carried me to the truck.

“What if Zepha hadn’t had a presentiment?” I asked him as we drove home. “What if Blue hadn’t come along?”

“You can’t worry about what didn’t happen,” Grover said, drawing me next to him.

“Do you think that man was after Rita and me because of Ben Crook, or maybe for some other reason?”

“Naw,” Grover said a little too fast. “It was just bad luck.”

He stopped the truck next to the back door, and our dog came out to greet us, wagging his tail. “You know, Queenie, it wouldn’t hurt if you let Old Bob keep you company around the house for a while.”

In the morning, Grover drove Rita and Tom and me into Har-veyville to report to Sheriff Eagles.

“Rita believes this attack might have something to do with her investigating Ben Crook’s murder,” Tom said after we told what had happened to us.

“I think he wanted to scare us off, keep us from solving the murder,” Rita added. “Maybe even kill us.”

The sheriff mulled that over. “I thought you said Queenie was the one who got pawed.” Sheriff Eagles turned red and looked down at his hands, which were folded in front of him like a little church. He was behind his desk, while Rita and I were on the same straight chairs we’d sat in during Rita’s interview the day before. Grover and Tom stood because there weren’t any more chairs.

“What difference does that make? Maybe he didn’t know which was Rita and which was Queenie,” Tom said.

The sheriff shrugged and told Rita, “If you think this has something to do with Ben, maybe you ought to back off and leave finding criminals to the law. It ain’t worth you getting killed over.”

“No sir! He’s not stopping me!” Rita said, leaning forward and looking at the sheriff with fire in her eye. “Queenie and I are going to solve this murder, no matter what. Nobody’s going to threaten us!”

She turned to me to agree with her, but I shook my head no. “Not me, Rita. Not now. I don’t care who killed Ben.”

Rita was disappointed. Still, she wouldn’t give up. “Well, it doesn’t matter. If I have to do it all by myself, I will.”

“What do you think, Sheriff?” Tom asked. “Does it sound to you like this has something to do with Ben? Maybe the man was that Skillet fellow, after all.”

“Nope,” the sheriff said. He turned over his hands to see all the people, inspecting his fingers before he took out his pock-etknife and cut off a dried blister. “Queenie knows Skillet. Besides, I already got a pretty good idea who it was stopped you ladies out there on the road.”

“Then for God’s sakes, why don’t you arrest him?” Tom asked. “If you don’t, Grover and I’ll find him.”

“You do that. It’ll save me the trouble.” The sheriffs chair squeaked as he leaned back and looked up at Tom and Grover. “I didn’t say I had his name and his address. I just know there’s a man who did the same thing over in Osage County last week and in Leavenworth a week or two before that. I got a report about him. You girls are lucky that hired man of yours came along when he did.”

The sheriff licked his lips, but before he could continue, Grover interrupted. “There’s no need to go into the details. This isn’t
Gang Busters,
you know.”

“I was just going to tell you he was over in Missouri before that,” the sheriff finished. “He moves around a good bit, so I expect he’s hightailed it out of Wabaunsee County by now.”

Grover nodded. “Whoever he is, he won’t be coming around here for a long time. After what Blue did to him, I doubt if he can stand up straight.” I wondered if Grover said that for my sake or the sheriffs.

When Rita and I got up, the sheriff stood, too, and came out from behind his desk to shake our hands. “I sure am sorry about this, ladies. A man’s got no right …” He blushed and turned away. “If you catch sight of him again, you let me know.”

“If they see him again, we’ll let you know where to pick up the pieces,” Grover told him.

On the way home, Grover said he’d treat the four of us to Coney Islands and a moving-picture show in Topeka that night, but I still couldn’t eat and said I didn’t feel like going to the movies, even if it was
Top Hat.
Grover was being awful nice to me, because he didn’t like pictures with singing and dancing, but he knew I did. Rita said she’d rather stay home, too. She told us she had work to do, and when she said it, her eyes were as hard and as mean as those of the man on the road.