To Thine Own Self Be True (8 page)

I didn’t have anything to say to that, and began studying the studio.

John watched me for a moment before speaking again. “It’s difficult to make a living without stepping across the line every once in a while. So you know, a mom brings in her twelve-year-old who wants a belly button ring? Who am I to say that mother’s wrong? And why should I force a busy father to accompany his sixteen-year-old son to a routine sitting so I can see him sign the papers? It saves everyone a lot of time and stress to just look the other way every once in a while. You see what I mean?”

I nodded. Sure. I saw what he meant. Didn’t mean I thought it was right. Or even smart. I mean, didn’t Mandy say he’d been sued three times last year alone?

I also was beginning to see the small differences between the studios of Wolf Ink and Gentleman John’s. A few rags sat on the counter—a no-no for a supposedly sanitary spot. Some dirty tools, a section of flash with a nasty vein, some still-greasy Vaseline cups. The vinyl floor was cracked and stained, and the walls were desperate for a new coat of paint.

But it sounded like it was John’s attitude that really needed the work. A tattoo artist that defies the law in one area won’t think twice about doing it in another.

I rocked on my heels. “I guess I’ll get back to the guys. Should I go out here?” I indicated the business entrance.

“I haven’t had a chance to shovel it yet. You’d be better off going out the front.”

“Sure. Thanks.”

At the front door he reached to open it, and I walked past him.

“So do you hate me now, too?” he asked. “Now that you know I bend the rules?”

I bit my lip and looked out at Rusty, whose face was turned away from the house. “I don’t hate you, John. I have no reason to. But I can’t say I’ll be coming here to get work done.”

“Sure. I understand.” He closed the door.

Rusty’s face was practically crimson when I reached the Explorer. Nick and I stood and watched him, clutching our arms to our coats to try to stay warm, as his face gradually relaxed and his color faded back to normal. His scalp had been frightening with the red underlying the continents.

He took a deep breath, a sob, and dropped his face into his hands. I laid a hand on his knee and left it there while he got himself under control. His shoulders heaved, and I had to look away when a tear trickled out from under his hand. Eventually his breathing returned to normal, and he lifted his head. Nick handed him a clean rag he’d found in my truck, and Rusty blotted his face with it.

Rusty took a huge breath and let it out. “Sorry.”

I held up a hand. “Don’t. He said some hurtful things.”

“He’s an asshole,” Nick said.

My eyes swerved to his face, surprised at his words. Mandy’s words. I just couldn’t quite fit them with the actual guy yet. To me John seemed more like a pathetic worm.

“Hearing him talk about them like that…” Rusty’s voice crumbled.

“I think you’ve had enough for today,” I said. “Will Becky be home by now? And the girls?”

Nick glanced at his watch. “It’s about two-thirty.”

Rusty stared out his windshield. “They said they’d be home by supper.”

I studied him. He wasn’t in any shape to be driving, or spending time alone. “You’re coming with us. Till Becky gets home.”

“I don’t—”

“For a little while, anyway.”

He shuddered and allowed himself a glance toward Gentleman John’s house. “Okay. Whatever. Just get me out of here.”

I lifted my hand from his knee. “Keys?”

He gestured toward the dash, where the key ring lay against the speedometer.

“Drive my truck again?” I asked Nick.

He nodded. “I’ll follow.”

I shut Rusty’s door and circled around to the driver’s side, glad to get into the cab and escape the cold breeze. I glanced toward the house, but didn’t see any movement. Gentleman John must’ve already gone back to his opera.

Chapter Twelve

When we pulled into the drive, Lucy and Tess were skipping up the sidewalk, bags in their hands. Tess’ eyes went wide, and she gestured frantically for Lucy to open the door.

I stopped the Explorer at the end of the sidewalk while Nick drove past, toward the tractor barn. After parking he jogged back and met me at Rusty’s passenger door.

“Guess we’re not supposed to see the bags,” Nick said, tilting his head toward the house.

“Guess not.”

Rusty opened his door, bumping me out of the way.

“You okay?” I asked.

He nodded. His eyes were still red, but other than that he looked normal.

“Nice place,” he said.

“Thanks. Come on in.” I led Rusty and Nick up the sidewalk and opened the front door.

“Don’t look! Don’t look!” Tess shrieked.

I covered my eyes. “I’m not looking.”

Lucy laughed. “Take that stuff upstairs so Stella doesn’t run into something. You can’t expect her to—” She stopped suddenly, and all sound ceased. I opened my eyes.

Rusty stood beside me, the recipient of startled stares from Lucy and Tess.

I cleared my throat. “Lucy, Tess, this is my friend Rusty Oldham.”

Lucy got herself together and stepped forward, holding out her hand. “Lucy Lapp. Nice to meet you. I work for Stella.”

Rusty shook her hand, an amused expression lighting his swollen eyes.

“And this is my daughter, Tess.” Lucy turned toward Tess, gesturing her forward. Tess hesitated.

“I’ve got a daughter about your age,” Rusty said. “Name’s Rose. You’re what? Eight? Nine?”

Tess nodded, her eyes wide. “Eight.”

“Rusty’s going to hang out here for a bit,” I said. “His family’s out shopping, and he wants some company.”

Lucy caught my eye, realizing it was more than that. “How about some hot chocolate?” she asked.

I nodded. “Sounds great. Here, Rusty, how about you sit on the sofa?”

“Wait!” Tess cried.

Lucy laughed. “That’s right. Give Tess a chance to hide her goodies. No peeking!”

I hid my eyes again while paper and plastic rustled, and the upstairs door finally shut.

“Okay,” Lucy said. “You can open.”

I dropped my hand and showed Rusty to the sofa, in front of a crackling fire. “Why don’t you relax. I’ll be right back with some cocoa. Nick will sit with you.” I looked at Nick, and he nodded.

I hung my coat in the closet and followed Lucy to the kitchen. “Any messages for me? The detective call?”

She shook her head sadly. “Sorry. Oh, I guess you did have one message. Ma Granger called, wanted to make sure you were coming to the Christmas Eve service with us tonight.”

I groaned. Usually I loved the service, but this year it would be pushing me.

“You’ll come, won’t you?” Lucy said. “It might be good for you.”

I hung my head, stretching my neck. “I’ll think about it.”

She waited, and finally said, “Okay.”

“What’s going on outside?” I asked.

“Everything’s fine. I haven’t taken hay around this afternoon yet.”

“I’ll take care of it in a bit. Need any help with the cocoa?”

She reached into the cupboard and pulled out some mugs. “Fill the tea kettlewith water, would you? And put it on the stove.”

I took the pot to the sink.

“So who’s this guy?” Lucy asked, trying to sound casual.

“Rusty?”

“Um-hmm.”

“Friend from way back. Did my cow skull.”

“Ah.”

“He’s a great guy.”

“I’m sure he is.” Her voice was level.

I tried to hide a smile. “What’s the problem here? I thought you were the queen of justice and fair treatment.”

Her head jerked up, and her cheeks grew pink. “You have to admit, he is a bit…”

“Colorful?”

She smiled awkwardly. “That’s a good word for him. I’m sorry. I hope I wasn’t too obvious.”

“He’s used to it.”

“That doesn’t excuse it.”

“Yeah, well. You weren’t expecting a walking globe to come through the front door.”

Her face shadowed. “Is he okay?”

“You mean in general?”

She laughed quietly. “No. If he’s your friend I’m sure he’s fine. I meant he looks like he’s been crying.”

“He has. He was good friends with Wolf and Mandy.”

Was? Is?

“Oh. Well, you go on out and keep him company. I’ll bring this in when it’s ready.”

I joined Rusty in the living room, where his feet rested on the coffee table. His head lay on the sofa’s back, but he followed me with his eyes as I sat across from him.

“Where’s Nick?” I asked.

He pointed his chin toward the front room. “Said he needed to call his family. I assured him I could handle sitting here by myself for two minutes.”

“All right.”

The door to the upstairs creaked, and Tess’ right eye peered out at me. I smiled at her, but made no move to invite her in, afraid it would scare her away. Rusty either didn’t notice, or pretended he didn’t.

“I’m assuming you don’t know anything about the woman Gentleman John mentioned,” I said. “The one who supposedly was after Wolf.”

Rusty shook his head wearily. “Can’t be true.”

“There could’ve been some lady who wanted him. Doesn’t mean he’d have gone for it.”

He considered this. “The woman would’ve been taking her life in her hands with Mandy around.”

He was right. Anyone trying to steal Wolf had a suicide wish. But I should still mention it to Shisler. Speaking of which, I should call her.

“Be right back,” I said. “Need to make a phone call.”

He nodded. I went into the kitchen, where Lucy was dumping cocoa mix into the mugs and the teakettle was starting to rumble. I punched in Shisler’s number, which I now knew by heart. As always, she answered immediately.

“Ms. Crown?”

I paused.

“Sorry,” she said. “Caller ID. Do you have something for me?”

“I guess you don’t have any news.”

“Sorry. Did you have an interesting afternoon?”

“I saw John Greene.”

“Ah… What did you think?”

“Confusing. Rusty hates him, and my friend Nick didn’t like him either. I think he’s crooked, but I don’t have any real harsh feelings about him.”

“Agreed, on both counts. But I have nothing on him for this.”

“He have an alibi for the night Mandy was killed?”

“Claims to have been alone all night. Unfortunately, he has no friends—or none who will admit to it, anyway—to back him up. Not that they really could have, I guess, if he was alone.”

“Not surprising. If anybody has reason to mess with Wolf and Mandy, it would be him. Claims they cost him his business. Although I’ve been told there were lots of others who had a hand in his problems, too.”

“We’re looking into it.”

I hesitated.

“Anything else?” Shisler asked.

I forced out the words. “Greene claims there was a woman after Wolf. At least he repeated the rumor.”

“After him, like hot for him?”

“Exactly.”

“He say who this woman was?”

“He didn’t know. And I’m not sure I believe it, anyway. I certainly don’t believe Wolf did anything about it. Except maybe tell her to go away.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I mean it. From what I’ve seen, and from what others know, Wolf just wouldn’t do it.”

“We all like to think that about people we know.”

“Detective—”

“Look, I hear what you’re saying. But I’ll have to look into it.” She paused. “I’m surprised you even mentioned it, frankly.”

“I want you to find Wolf.”

“Me, too.”

“So go find him.” I hung up, feeling dirty. I didn’t like casting doubt on my friend’s loyalty to his wife.

“You all right?” Lucy asked. She stood in the middle of the kitchen, holding a tray filled with mugs.

“Not really,” I said.

She studied my face, then looked toward the living room. “After you.”

When we stepped through the doorway, we halted abruptly.

Tess sat beside Rusty on the sofa, a velvet coloring poster laid out on the coffee table. Their heads were bent together over the picture as they carefully filled in the white areas forming intricate butterflies. Lucy’s eyebrows rose, and I gave her a smug smile. Lucy ignored me and continued into the room.

“Cocoa, anyone?” she asked.

I followed her in and took my seat across from Rusty. He glanced up and his eyes crinkled. “You’ve got quite the little artist, here.”

Lucy ruffled Tess’ hair. “You hear that, Tess? A meaningful compliment from an accomplished tattoo artist such as Rusty.”

Tess smirked.

I was picking a mug from the tray when Nick came out from the front room.

“Everybody okay?” I asked. “Mad you’re not home?”

He grinned. “Nah. Just glad I’m not on the road in this weather, and that I’m safe.”

Safe. Was Wolf safe?

We sipped hot chocolate and enjoyed the fire while Rusty and Tess colored. I kept catching Lucy staring at Rusty’s head, but Tess seemed to already have gotten past Rusty’s appearance.

When we’d all emptied our mugs and Rusty had put the final touches on a butterfly, he sat back. “Guess I better get home before the womenfolk wonder what’s happened to me.”

Tess pouted. “Already?”

He laughed and squeezed her shoulder. “We’ve been coloring for almost an hour.”

I blinked and looked at the clock. “Wow. I gotta get outside.”

Rusty stood up and stretched. “Thanks for the company. And Tess, maybe you could come over and play with Rose sometime. Would you like that?”

She brightened. “Sure.”

“Once Christmas is over. We’ll call.” He turned to Lucy. “Very nice to meet you. Thanks for the drink.”

She stood up. “It’s always good to meet Stella’s friends.”

“Even when they look like me?”

She smiled. “Even then.”

Nick stood and shook Rusty’s hand. “Thanks for the lessons on tattooing. I know more now than I ever thought I would.”

“You decide you want one, you let me know.”

“Will do.”

I led Rusty to the door. “So how come you all hate Gentleman John so much? I know he bends some rules…”

Rusty bristled. “He doesn’t just bend rules—”

I held up my hand. “Quieter, please.”

He glanced toward the living room, and lowered his voice. “He
laughs
at rules. The first time he got sued we went to him. Told him how he brought down the whole community. Made us all look bad. He did a lot of bowing and scraping…then turned around and did it again. He doesn’t care.”

“But he acts—”

“I know. He’s
sweet
. He’s
polite
.” Rusty shook his head. “He gets people
sick
. And it doesn’t matter to him. Not one bit.” He looked at me. “That’s why we hate him.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

He turned the doorknob. “I appreciate your taking care of me. Thank you.”

“Anytime. You seem okay to drive now.”

“No problem.”

“Keep in touch.”

His face darkened briefly. “I’m sure we’ll be talking. Thanks again.”

I watched as he got his Explorer started and turned around. I went back to the living room, where Lucy was clearing mugs and Tess studied Rusty’s butterfly.

Nick poked at the fire. “You folks do anything for Christmas Eve?”

I glanced at the clock. “There’s a service at the church we could go to. It’s a later time than usual church stuff. Nine o’clock.”

“That sounds nice.”

Okay. So maybe it would be good to have something to do. Better than sitting on my can waiting for the detective to call.

“I’m going to do some chores outside,” I said. “Want to come along?”

He did.

Taking the hay around—in a new shower of snow—turned into checking water supplies, re-covering some pipes with rubberized heating tape and insulation, and checking on the pregnant cows. And all that led into the evening milking. With all three of us working—Lucy, Nick, and me—the process went quickly, and we were back in the house and eating supper in record time. By eight-thirty, Lucy and I had showered and changed, and Tess was dressed for church.

We were waiting in the living room when the front door opened and a large, red-haired man stepped into the foyer.

“Lenny!” Tess squealed. She ran toward the door and launched herself at Lucy’s boyfriend, my biker buddy from years back. Lenny laughed and caught her, swinging her in a circle before setting her down and kissing Lucy. Lucy smiled up at him, almost disappearing under his huge arm, while Tess held onto his other hand and danced around, jiggling his arm so hard his beard shook.

“Hey, Len,” I said.

“Stella. Glad I could finally make it over. Once the Level Three condition was lifted I had to dig Bart out of his place, seeing how I don’t want him doing it himself, plus I gave a hand to the neighbors.”

I thought of our friend Bart, who had been on the phone about Wolf and Mandy that day, and who until last month had been going to physical therapy after being attacked by a knife-wielding sleazeball in August. Since summer, Lenny had been running their business, the Biker Barn, a Harley-Davidson dealership, pretty much single-handedly. Only recently had Bart gone back to working full-time.

“We’ve been okay,” I told Lenny. “Bart needs your help more than we do.”

“Yeah.” His face dropped. “I’m real sorry to hear about Mandy.”

“Yeah.”

“Wolf, too. Any leads?”

Tess looked up at Lenny in confusion, and he made a face, having forgotten she shouldn’t be hearing about our tragedy.

“Sorry,” he said to Lucy.

She patted his arm.

“Oh, Stella,” he said in a lighter tone. “I hear you have some extra help.” His eyes sparkled mischievously.

I glanced toward the downstairs bathroom. “He’ll be out in a minute. He’s cleaning up after working today.”

Lenny frowned at the clock. “Gotta get a move-on, don’t we, if we’re going to make it to church on time.”

“The service isn’t till nine. We’ll be fine.”

He shook his head. “The snow’s really coming down again, although not like the other day.”

The bathroom door squeaked on its hinges, and Nick emerged, his hair damp from the shower. He wore a pair of khakis and a blue sweater that matched his eyes, and I had to work hard not to stare.