Dorothy Garlock (19 page)

“I've got that feeling, too. He knows when to push and when to back off.”

“I wish Mr. Evans hadn't given him a room.”

“We can't blame Elmer. I'm going to nose around and see if I can find out what started the fire that burned his house.” He still held her hand. “I'm on pretty good terms with the sheriff.”

A drummer came down the stairs and paid for his lodging. He was a slick-looking little man with small black eyes and a wide mustache on his upper lip. He eyed Jill while she was getting his change.

“Thank you and come again.”

“I'll do that, pretty lady.” He waited for a reply, but when she turned her back to him and put his key in the box, he shrugged and went to the door. He placed his hat carefully on his neatly combed hair, picked up his heavy valise and left.

Thad chuckled. “He asked me last night if you were married. When I told him that you were not, but that I was working on it, he offered to show me the samples of the line he was selling. Something every young woman needed and would be pleased to have, is the way he put it.”

“And…”

“And, although I would have liked to have seen them, I declined.”

“Hummm…”

“Aren't you going to ask me what he was selling? ”

“I'm afraid to.”

“I wasn't going to tell you anyway. You'd slap me.”

“Ladies 'underwear? ”

“More intimate than that.”

“Then don't tell me.”

Radna came down the stairs carrying a mop. She stopped when she saw Thad and Jill standing close together and conversing in low tones.

“How come you two aren't fighting? It makes me nervous when you're civil to each other.”

“We'll fight again soon. It's such fun making up. This is make-up time.” Thad flung an arm across Jill's shoulders.

Jill looked up into green eyes bright with amusement. His hair, black and shiny, hung down over his ears. She suppressed the urge to push it back and thought,
He needs a haircut.

“We were talking about the salesman who just left.” Jill moved out from under Thad's arm.

“The duded-up little jelly bean left a calling card in his room. I suppose he thought you'd be the one to clean it and be shocked.”

“What did he leave? ”

Radna put her hand in her apron pocket. “I'll show you later.”

“Excuse me, ladies. I think I'm wanted elsewhere.” As he moved behind Jill, Thad's hand squeezed her waist and then moved slowly across her back.

Radna waited until Thad had disappeared down the hall before she came to the counter.

“He needs a haircut.” Jill spoke her thoughts.

“I rather like it long. He's a damn good-looking man.”

“Not as good-looking as Joe.”

“Yes, he is. In a different way. Joe's pretty. Thad's not only good to look at, he's got that rugged, powerful masculinity that attracts a woman, confuses her, angers her and makes her achingly anxious to go to bed with him.”

“Well, glory! Does he know that you think he's so special? ”Jill hated the fact that a blush covered her cheeks.

“Of course not. Thad doesn't even realize the effect he has on a woman. I'll tell you this: The woman he takes to bed will know she's been on a wild ride before the night is over.”

“Shame on you! ”

“The strongest urge in the world is to survive, and the next strongest is to procreate. God gave some men an extra dose of the latter and the looks to go with it.” Amusement played over Radna's face as she viewed Jill's flaming cheeks.

“What did the salesman leave? ”Jill asked after a moment of silence.

“The slimy little pervert thought that you'd clean the room, find this and be shocked. He left it lying on his pillow.” Radna pulled a sanitary napkin out of her pocket. “He's a Kotex salesman.”

“I wouldn't have been shocked. Well, maybe I would've, finding one in a man's room, ”Jill confessed with a little laugh. “I've been using them for a couple of years. My sister Julie told me about them and bought me my first box.”

“If he was sending a message, I don't know what it is. But no use wasting it.” Radna put it back in her pocket. “I've finished upstairs. Everyone is gone except Officer Hurt from the city. He comes in late and goes out early. Nothing in his room but a couple of clean shirts and a dirty one.”

“Aunt Justine told me to put Joe and Mr. Blue in room three. It has two half beds. She's relieved that the boys and Mr. Blue are here. Their friend isn't what I expected. What do you think of him? ”

“The Indian? Oh, I guess he's all right for an …Indian.”

Without waiting for a reply, Radna went down the hall into the kitchen and out onto the back porch. The
Indian
they had been talking about was sitting on the edge of the porch plucking the feathers from a chicken.

“What are you doing? ”The female voice held more than a hint of annoyance. Radna hung up the wet mop and came to look down at him.

“What's it look like? I ain't pickin 'my nose and I sure as hell ain't suckin 'eggs.”

“Where did you get that? We don't have any chickens. Old Mr. Worth's chickens wander over here once in a while. That looks like one of his.”

“All white chickens look alike.”

Anger now made Radna's cheeks grow warm. “You killed Mr. Worth's chicken! That old man lives from hand to mouth. You can get right over there and pay him for it.”

Blue looked up at the woman standing with her hands on her hips glaring down at him. His intense gaze held hers, making him aware that she was a fine-looking, feisty woman who could make this trip to Rainwater rather enjoyable.

“Indians are expected to steal. It's our heritage, ”he said quietly.

“Damn you. That old man depends on those chickens for eggs to trade at the store.”

“Me dumb Indian. Me not know that. Me want eat chicken.” Blue went back to pulling long feathers from the wings.

“Well, dumb
Indian
or not, you're going to pay Mr. Worth for that chicken.”

“No. I'm going to eat it…after I cook it. My tribe, the Kickapoos, cook meat. What your tribe do? ”

“My father was a Cherokee chief. My mother was a quadroon from New Orleans.”

“Are you bragging or complaining? ”he asked in a bored tone of voice that served to irritate her more.

“My father's people cooked meat. Some of my mother's ancestors came from Africa. I don't know how they ate their meat. But I do know that they were far more civilized than yours.”

“I never heard that folks in Africa ate raw meat, but if that's the way you want it, I'll save the chicken's head for you. You can work your voodoo magic with it before you eat it.”

Radna's temper flared. Acting on pure impulse, she lifted her foot and kicked him in the side with the toe of her shoe. His hand lashed out and fastened around her ankle, holding it firmly. She had to hop on one foot to keep her balance.

“Let go of me, you thievin 'blanket-ass! ”

“Not until you apologize, little spittin 'squaw.”

“Go to hell.”

“I probably will, but not now.”

“Turn loose of me, or my knife will find your rotten gizzard.”

“That'd hurt.” Blue looked up at her, his Indian features void of expression.

“Damn right it would! ”

“What's going on? ”Joe came out of the wash house, followed by Thad.

“She kicked me.”

“He won't let me go.” Radna and Blue spoke at the same time.

“Thunderation, Blue. Why'd she kick you? ”Thad stood in front of them with a serious look on his face.

“Damned if I know. She may have broken a rib. I'm not turning her loose until she apologizes. Among my people a squaw would be tied to a stake over a red ant hill for kicking a warrior.”

“Warrior, my hind leg! You're no more a
warrior
than that chicken.” Radna exploded in rage and tried to step on his hand with her other foot. “I'll apologize to you when there's a man on the moon, you dog-eatin 'savage! ”

“See what I mean? She's dangerous. She threatened to cut out my gizzard, Joe. And I never ate a dog in my life, ”Blue finished seriously.

“What started this …battle? ”Joe was trying not to laugh. Blue had met his match at last.

“He's a thievin 'red blanket-ass! ”

“I'm a white blanket-ass, too, ”Blue corrected with indignation. “My white forefathers would be ashamed and never rest in peace if I didn't acknowledge them.”

“What did he steal? ”Joe had a hard time keeping his face straight when he looked at Thad, who was grinning broadly.

“Mr. Worth's chicken.” Radna yanked on her foot, then turned furious eyes on Joe. “You brought this mud-ugly crow-bait here. Tell him to turn loose of me or I'll bust him in the mouth.” She doubled up her fist and prepared to swing.

“Turn her loose, Blue. She looks mad enough to bite the head off a snake.”

“Oh, all right, but it's on your head if she … hurts me.”

“I couldn't hurt you with a ball bat, ”Radna shouted.

The instant her ankle was released, she raked all three men with a searing glance and, with chin raised, went into the kitchen, the screen door slamming behind her. As she leaned against the table, swear words she'd often heard but seldom used came bubbling out of her mouth with every breath.

At first she was too angry to notice the sacks on the table or the bag of sugar and the one of coffee that lay beside them. On the floor, propped up against the kitchen cabinet, was a fifty-pound sack of flour.

“What in the world? ”she exclaimed after she looked into one of the sacks and found cheese, canned goods, raisins and crackers. In another sack there were several packages of meat, a sack of red beans and one of pinto beans. Before she could look into the third sack, Joe came into the kitchen from the porch.

“I apologize for Blue, ”he said quickly. “He loves to tease and gets carried away sometimes. He also likes to play the dumb Indian when he thinks folks expect it. He didn't steal the chicken. He bought it at the meat market. I was with him.”

“For all that's holy! Why didn't he say so instead of letting me think …? ”

Joe lifted his shoulders in an I-don't-know gesture.

“Did you buy all this? ”

“Blue and Thad pitched in. It's the least we can do. We eat like a swarm of locusts.”

“Am I expected to cook it? ”

“We don't want to cause more work for you. If you'd rather not cook, Blue will. He's a good cook.”

“I'll not let that Kickapoo savage in my kitchen. I'll cook, but I've got to wash my hands first.”

Radna filled the washbasin. After washing and drying her hands, she took the pan to the back door, opened it and tossed the pan of water on the man who sat on the edge of the porch with his back to her.

Blue came off the porch spitting obscenities. Water ran off his head and down over his face.

“Uh-oh! Sorry, Randolph. I didn't see
dumb Indian
sitting there.”

When Blue leaped up on the porch, Radna dropped the pan and, with squeals of laughter, dashed through the kitchen to Justine's room and slammed the door.

Chapter 13

H
UNTER HAD PUT IN FIVE OF THE MOST
miserable days of his life.

Carsie's remains were still in a coffin at the funeral parlor. A burial date had not been set. It had taken a dozen telephone calls to locate her brother in Denver, Colorado. The man was sincerely grieved when told of his sister's tragic death. When asked what he wanted done with the remains, he confessed to being flat broke and didn't have money for burial expenses. He was vastly relieved and grateful when Hunter offered to assume that responsibility.

On two different occasions Hunter had talked with Officer Hurt: one time at the police station with Chief Page present, and the other time when the officer came to his house.

Officer Hurt had spoken at length with Dinah and Casper, after Hunter had told them to be forthcoming and tell the officer everything, even if it was uncomplimentary to him. After his interview with Dinah and Casper, Officer Hurt spoke again with Hunter.

Now, in the quietness of his study, Hunter played that interview over in his mind.

“How often did Miss Bakken visit you? ”Officer Hurt asked.

“Three times this past year. Carsie was involved with several men. As far as I know, I am the only unmarried one. She was biding her time, thinking that I would marry her, but I had made it clear to her before she came here the first time that I would not even consider it.”

“How did you meet her? ”

“I met her in Kansas City. She was very beautiful and skilled in giving sexual pleasure. She was completely uninhibited and enjoyed sex.”

The officer's face never changed expression, but Hunter suspected that hearing that a woman enjoyed sex was foreign if not repugnant to him. Hunter hated exposing his and Carsie's private life to this man and hoped that he was professional enough to keep the information confidential.

“In other words, she was a whore who enjoyed her work, ”the officer commented dryly.

“I didn't think of Carsie as a whore and she didn't think of herself that way. She considered herself a mistress, a companion, a paramour, a sexual playmate.”

“What's the difference? ”

“A whore is paid for each act. A mistress is supplied with food, lodging and an allowance for her services. She is given the respect of a substitute wife.” Hunter recited dispassionately what he considered to be the definitions. Then he added, “Marion Davies is Randolph Hearst's mistress. Do you consider her a whore? ”

The officer refused to answer, and his eyes caught and steadily held Hunter's. He waited and finally Hunter began to speak again.

“After I left to go to the meeting Saturday night, something happened to make Carsie angry enough to leave the house. I've racked my brain trying to figure out what it could have been and have come up with nothing.”

“No telephone calls? ”

“I checked with the telephone operator and she didn't remember plugging into our number.”

Officer Hurt nodded. “She said you had.”

“If you knew there were no calls, why did you ask? ”

“My job. When Miss Bakken was here before, did she leave suddenly? ”

“No. When it was time for her to go, I took her to the train.” Hunter rubbed his hands wearily over his face.