Jackrabbit Junction Jitters (21 page)

The ringing of Ruby’s wall telephone interrupted Manny’s
reply.

Claire looked up from the Jack of hearts and Queen of
diamonds in her hand.

Kate stared back at her with raised brows.

“Well, don’t any of you get off your butts to get that.”
Claire pushed back her chair, taking the potato chips with her.

Chester and Manny had moved the card table into the back of
the store. This made it so Claire could watch the cash register and sit in for
Gramps, who’d grabbed Henry and spun out of the R.V. park after his row with
Deborah.

Nobody seemed interested in enlisting Deborah to play,
especially Claire. Her mother had returned to her bedroom after the big
showdown, probably to file her teeth into sharper points.

Claire picked up the receiver on the fourth ring. “Dancing
Winnebagos R.V. Park.”

“Miss me yet, Slugger?” The sound of Mac’s voice coming
through the receiver brought a smile to Claire’s lips.

“More than you can imagine.” She wiped her greasy fingers on
her jean shorts. “Hold on while I switch to the phone in the rec room.” She
laid the receiver down on the counter. “Kate, hang this up as soon as I pick up
in the other room.”

As Claire slipped through the curtain, she heard Kate tell
the boys, “She’s always been that bossy.”

Claire picked up the other phone. “Can you take Friday off
and come back early?”

“Things that bad there?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t been able to see the mushroom
clouds from Tucson.” The sound of heavy breathing came on the line. Claire
covered the mouthpiece. “Manny Carrera, hang up that phone right now!”

“Spoilsport,” Manny yelled back, then Claire heard a click.

“Are the boys keeping an eye on you?” Claire could hear the
grin in Mac’s tone.

“Are you kidding? The only time they leave my side is when I
have to use the bathroom, and Manny even tries to follow me in there.”

She glanced around to make sure her mother wasn’t hovering
nearby in the shadows before asking, “So, what did you find out about the
lawyer?”

“Nothing.”

“Didn’t you go to his office?”

“I tried, but I must have the address wrong, because I ended
up at a strip mall with a tattoo parlor, a cheap cigarette store, and an adult
video mart.”

“Sounds like my kind of mall.”

“Do you know where Ruby stashed those letters?”

“I think so.” Claire circled the bar, taking the phone with
her, and started pulling open the drawers. She found the envelopes on her third
try. “Here they are.” She pulled one out. “Do you have a pen handy?”

“Yep. Shoot.”

She rattled off the address.

“Damn, that’s what I have. Is there a different address on
the other envelopes?”

“No, they’re all the same. Maybe there are two streets in
Tucson named Chuckwalla Wash Drive.”

“I doubt it, but I’ll check again.”

Claire grabbed a pen from the drawer and drew hearts and
smiley faces on the back of an envelope. “Did you go to Phoenix yesterday?”

Mac had mentioned zipping up to the state capitol to comb
through public records in the state mining archives for information about the
Lucky Monk.

“Yeah.”

“What did you find out?”

“Well …”

“What?”

“It seems owning this mine is hazardous to your health.” Mac’s
voice sounded quieter, but closer, as if he were cupping the mouthpiece. “It’s
passed through the hands of twelve owners, and none of them hung around long
enough to receive Medicare benefits. One even disappeared entirely, never to be
seen again. Joe has the current longevity record.”

“Do you think it’s cursed?” she whispered.

“Why did I know you’d ask that?”

“Because you have this bad habit of reading my mind.”

“No, Miss Superstitious. I don’t think it’s cursed. There’s
probably a logical explanation for each death. But I do find it an ominous
statistic considering Ruby is the current owner.”

She was for now, anyway, unless Leo Scott’s client stole it
away. Claire scribbled some sad faces on the envelope. “What else did you find?”

“Several pages worth of information, but I haven’t had time
to read through any of them yet. I’ll bring them on Friday, along with a
suitcase full of your clothes. Tell me again which dress I’m supposed to pack
for the wedding—the purple one with the low neckline that makes me drool and
stutter, or the red one with the thin straps that makes me stutter and then
drool?”

“Actually, I was thinking the green striped dress without a
back to it. You know which one I’m talking about?”

“Mmmm, I sure do. No fumbling with zippers or buttons on
that one. Maybe we should rent a room in Yuccaville that night.”

“Lord knows finding privacy around here is nearly
impossible. Jess has been glued to my side since you left.”

“So I hear. Ruby and Jess met me for lunch today.”

“Between Chester, Manny, and Jess, I feel as if I have a car
full of paparazzi members riding my ass at every turn.”

Claire glanced toward the curtain at the sound of the bells
over the front door jingling.

“Can’t say I blame them,” Mac said. “I’m enthralled with
your backside myself.”

“Yeah, well you’re hopeless.”

“I can’t help it. I love you.”

Claire’s blood rushed in her ears. She opened her mouth and
then closed it, not knowing how to respond.

They were back to the stalemate they’d reached a week ago,
with Mac using the “L” word and her being scared shitless, struggling to catch
her breath.

“I know you don’t want to hear that, Claire, but you can’t
avoid it forever.”

She cleared her throat. “I thought most guys were happy to
have a woman sharing their bed but not their name.”

“I’m not ‘most guys.’”

No, he wasn’t.

“Claire!” Kate pulled back the curtain and stuck her head
through. “There’s a guy out here saying the toilet in the men’s room is
flooding.”

“Son of a bitch.” Claire threw down the pen. “I gotta go,”
she told Mac. “That damned toilet is overflowing again.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you later.” His voice sounded stilted,
withdrawn.

She didn’t want to end the call with him feeling jilted. “I
miss you, Mac.”

“Good. Happy plunging, Slugger. Stay out of trouble.” The
phone clicked in her ear.

“Kate, watch the store,” she yelled through the curtain. Grabbing
her tool belt from the cubbyhole next to the back door, she stepped out into
the afternoon sunlight.

She had two hours to take care of this mess and get cleaned
up before Porter would be waiting for her at the bar … well, he’d be waiting
for Kate, anyway.

At least that was what his reply had been to her text
message invite from Kate’s phone.

* * *

The Shaft shook, rattled, and rolled around Claire.

With Ladies’ Night in full swing, beer poured from the tap
at half the price for anyone sporting a vagina. Outnumbering the women
two-to-one, bucks butted heads for a chance to woo any woman brave enough to
walk through the door.

Claire inhaled the secondhand cigarette smoke swirling above
her head. The hankering to light up made her fingers itch.

She sipped on her Corona instead, savoring the cold bite,
wondering if anyone would notice if she slipped the cool, sweating bottle down
her shirt. Butch’s air conditioner couldn’t compete with the heat radiating off
so much skin. Another hour in this humidity and she’d be steamed pink.

Across the table from her, Kate kept sneaking glances at
Butch, who stood behind the bar, pouring drinks and listening to drunken yarns
while sporting his usual friendly grin.

Leaning over her drink, Claire hollered above the din, “Porter
is late for your date.”

Kate stared back at her for several seconds, her forehead
wrinkling. “What date?”

“The date I set up for you.”

More wrinkles appeared, these even deeper. Any more, and
Claire would expect Kate to start speaking Klingon. “That’s why you had my
phone!”

“You should be more careful where you leave it.”

“Why am I seeing Porter tonight?” Her focus drifted back to
Butch.

“I need you to find out why he was in Ruby’s office
yesterday.”

Kate did a double-take. “He was?”

“Yep. Jess caught him down there.”

“Doing what?”

“Reading Joe’s first editions. I want to know what he was
doing looking at those books.”

Flicking Claire’s suspicions off with a wave of her hand,
Kate said, “You’re making too much of this. He’s an author. First editions of
classics are probably his idea of bathroom reading fodder.”

“That still doesn’t explain why he went down to Ruby’s
office. That’s where you come into the equation.”

“Why me?”

“Because he’s not trying to get into my pants.”

“Porter’s not like that. He hasn’t even tried to slip me the
tongue yet.”

“All the more reason to be suspicious of him.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “What if I don’t want to see Porter
tonight?”

“Too late, he just walked in the door.”

Amongst the sea of dusty cowboy hats, Porter’s white brim
stuck out like a pristine sailboat illuminated by a ray of sunshine. Claire
beckoned him over.

As he skirted the dance floor, she turned to Kate. “Now
flash him those pearly white teeth and get him to spill.”

* * *

From the dance floor, Kate glared at Claire, who was
chatting with Butch after exchanging her chair for a barstool—the seat where
Kate wanted to be sitting, rather than swaying in Porter’s arms to the warm
baritones of Don Williams.

Porter leaned closer. “I was surprised to hear from you.
Pleasantly so.” His breath smelled minty, like he had a cheek full of Tic Tacs.

Me, too. Kate just smiled through her frustration.

“What was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

Behind her fake smile, Kate wished a plague of locusts on
Claire. Some frogs, too. “That was some storm we had a couple of hours ago.
Have you ever seen it rain so hard?”

“Yes. Texas has its fair share of severe thunderstorms,
often mixed with hail and tornadoes.”

“Have you ever been in a tornado?”

“Sure, a few actually.”

Stall, stall, stall, her mind radioed to the frontlines. If
she could keep him talking long enough, maybe she’d come up with a plan on how
to do Claire’s bidding.

“What was it like?”

“Windy.” He chuckled. “I know you didn’t ask me here to talk
about storm cells. What’s on your mind?”

She chanced a look at her sister for help, but Claire was
too busy grinning at something Butch was saying to notice Kate thrashing around
in the water. “Ummm.”

“Just spit it out, Kate.”

She contemplated throwing one of her sandals at Claire’s
head, but decided on another course of action. “It’s Claire.”

Porter looked toward the bar. “What about her?”

“She’s very upset.”

Right then, Butch finished telling his tale. Claire threw
back her head, laughing loud enough to be heard over the music.

Damn!

Porter turned back to Kate. “She doesn’t look upset to me.”

“She’s covering her pain with laughter. It’s a common trait
of hers.”

“Why is she so upset?”

Scrambling, Kate blurted the first thing that came to mind. “It’s
Mac. He dumped her like a block of Limburger cheese.”

Porter grimaced. “That’s too bad. He seemed pretty taken
with her when they were dancing together last week.”

“Mac has a good poker face.” As the song on the jukebox
ended, Kate stepped back. “Will you do me a big favor and ask her to dance? She
could really use a distraction tonight, someone to get her mind off Mac.”

Porter frowned over at Claire. “It looks like Butch is
already on the case.”

“Butch won’t do.”

“Why not?” Porter’s gaze returned to Kate.

She drew a blank and panicked. “He confided in me that he’s taken
a life-long vow of abstinence.”

Porter’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“The way he acts around women is just a ploy to keep
customers coming back.”

“Ah. That explains it.”

She started to nod, but stopped. “Explains what?”

“Why he always has women hanging on him, but never takes any
of them home.”

“He doesn’t?”

“Not that I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been hanging around here
for almost two months now.”

Good! Kate shouldn’t feel like skipping after hearing that
tidbit about Butch, but she did, damn it.

Squeezing Porter’s forearm, she asked, “Will you please
dance with Claire for a bit? It would mean the world to her.”

“And this is why you asked me to meet you here tonight? To
dance with your sister?”

“Uh-huh. She’s been so depressed all day.”

“Okay. But where will you be?”

“I’ll just hang out at the bar.” And grill Butch.

* * *

Someone tapped Claire on the shoulder.

If one more cowboy asked her to chalk his cue stick, pet his
Wookie, or try out his Artificial Insemination Home Kit, she was going to start
dumping some beer over heads—and with drinks half-priced, she could afford
plenty of glasses.

“Go away!” she barked without turning around.

“Tag,” Kate said in her ear.

She frowned at her sister as Kate dropped onto the stool
beside her. “What?”

“You’re it.”

Porter leaned on the bar next to Claire. “Will you dance
with me, Claire?”

Kate’s eyes sparkled with merriment.

“Uh, sure.” Claire kicked Kate in the ankle as she stood.

“Ow!” Kate yelped.

“I’m putting fire ants in your sheets tonight.” Claire spoke
loud enough for Kate’s ears only.

“Try it and I’ll pour peroxide in your shampoo bottle. Now
get out there; Porter’s waiting.”

Sure enough, Porter was already on the dance floor.

Claire forced a smile as she slipped into Porter’s arms. The
scent of vanilla and cedar embraced her.