Looking Through Darkness (18 page)

He set down the cloth and looked at her. “I'm interested. Keep talking.”

“What kind of bookkeeping system do you have now?”

“A ledger, a number-two pencil, and a pocket calculator.”

She blinked owlishly. “You're not serious.”

“Sure am.”

“Wow,” she said softly. “Haven't seen anything like that in, well, never.”

“You're making me feel like a dinosaur,” he said, and laughed.

“I can make things a lot easier for you,” Sam said, “especially around tax time. You don't have a laptop, do you?”

“Sure do. It's the latest, with all kinds of software.”

“Great. I'll teach you how to enter things onto an electronic spreadsheet.”

“Okay. How about you design the system
and
keep my books until, say, January? In exchange, I'll make a pendant for Esther—but it won't be exactly the same as the one you saw. All my jewelry is one of a kind.”

“Deal, but I'll have to get the bookkeeping software set up at night and on weekends. If that's okay with you, just leave your laptop here for me at the trading post and put the paperwork in a shoe box, paper bag, or whatever.”

“Will do.”

“One more thing. Could you have the pendant ready in two months? I'd like to give it to my
shimas
á
n
í
on her birthday, July thirty-first.”

“That'll have to depend on the availability of the right stone. I'm picky. You want green turquoise? I've got some Manassa green from Colorado, with a great golden matrix.”

Sam nodded. “Sounds beautiful. It's one of her favorite shades.”

“All right, then. I'll see what I can do. In the meantime, write down the name of any software you want me to buy.”

“If you've got a top-of-the-line laptop, you probably have what you need already, but I'll have a list of essentials for you by the time you leave today.”

She went inside, and a few minutes later came back with some cold mineral water for him. Sam placed it on the table beside him and hung around, watching him work.

“What's on your mind?” Ambrose asked, looking up after he'd finished setting a stone into the bezel of a small pendant.

She opened her mouth to speak. “No, forget it. It's none of my business.”

“Go on. It's okay.”

“When you first came into the store, you seemed all friendly and relaxed, but your expression changed when you looked at Jo. For a second or two you looked … worried. I don't think anyone else noticed, but I see things like that because in my work, like yours, details are everything. I know you and Ben are close friends, so I wondered. Is something wrong?”

“You read people pretty well, kid,” Ambrose said.

Sam shrugged. “I'm right, aren't I?”

“I spoke to Ben the other day and found out he'll be going into a hot spot. That's what he trained for, but I got the feeling he thought he might not make it back out this time.”

He paused. “That's just my gut talking, so keep it under wraps.”

She nodded. “I think Jo sensed the same thing.”

“Why do you say that?”

“She's been checking her email and Skype almost every hour. I'm guessing she's going out of her mind waiting to hear from Ben again. It's what I'd do, too, if my—” She stopped talking. “Anyway, you get the idea.”

“Yeah, but now I'm curious,” he said, giving her a disarming smile. “Who's the guy you've set
your
sights on?”

“Me? No one. I was speaking hypothetically.”

“Aw, come on. I haven't had anyone to share secrets with since my partner moved out and I'm almost sure I'm going through withdrawal. Spill it.”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, I know how that goes. My best friend's in college now, and she's too busy to even email most days. We used to tell each other
everything
.”

“See that? We can create balance for each other and that'll bring harmony. All we've got to do is start talking. So who's the lucky guy?”

“It's Jack Colburn, but he doesn't even know I'm alive. He treats me like his kid sister,” she said, and rolled her eyes.

“I've met the guy, cowboy and ex-soldier, right? He's what, ten years older than you?”

“More. I'm twenty-one, he's thirty-two, and
way
out of my league.…”

“Why do you say that? You could catch any guy's eye.”

“Yeah, except Jack's,” she muttered.

“And he's not gay?”

She smiled. “Nope.”

“Here I thought I'd have a shot at him.”

Sam laughed. “Forget it. I got there first. What about you? Anyone new on the horizon?”

Ambrose shook his head. “I've met some people online, but I don't make friends quickly.”

“You? But everyone loves you!”

He smiled. “I've got lots of acquaintances, but close friends? Those, I can count on one hand.”

“I'll give you the same advice my
shimas
á
n
í
gave me: Stop assuming you know what everyone's thinking.”

He had to laugh. “That's the first time anyone ever said that to me.”

“Yeah, I get it. You're all muscle and toughness, but when it comes to meeting people, you're insecure. You don't trust anyone's motives.”

“And you'd know all this—how?” he pressed, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“My
shimas
á
n
í
again. She told me that you wouldn't deal with anyone except Ben's dad or Jo before all the bad things happened. Then Ben came back into the picture, and not just as an old friend but as a part-owner. That's when you finally allowed yourself to become part of the trading post family.”

“That's true enough, but the reality is I've got to be careful. Some people hate gays.”

“There's always more than enough hatred to go around. Some kids gave me a hard time back in high school because I worked harder and could outthink them. I was the geek no one wanted to take to the prom.”

“It can sting to be the outsider,” he said, nodding. “People, especially kids, can be so cruel.”

“Oh, yeah.” Sam sighed. “I better go put that folding sign out by the street, to let everyone know you're here today.”

“Go ahead,” Ambrose said. As Sam turned away, he added, “Oh, one more thing. I went to school with Jack, and he was always the quiet type, the ‘still waters run deep' kind. Don't assume he's not interested just 'cause he's not saying anything.”

“You really think so?”

“Yeah, Jack isn't easy to read. In high school, I never considered him a friend—until one day four guys jumped me and Ben after a game. We were down on the ground, but they wouldn't let up. Jack jumped in and threw them all off us. He even bounced one guy we called ‘Brick'—for obvious reasons—right off the wall.”

She smiled. “That sounds like something Jack would do. It's hard to get him riled, but if he thinks he's in the right there's no stopping him.”

He smiled. “You're totally crazy about him.”

“Yeah, I guess,” she said and sighed. “Buy me a macadamia double mocha cappuccino sometime, Ambrose. I'll tell you about my lack of a love life, and you can tell me about yours.”

He laughed. “You've got yourself a deal, Sam.”

While Sam took care of the sign, Ambrose got ready to put on his show. He tied on his red headband, unbuttoned his shirt, and rolled up his sleeves. People would soon be stopping by to watch him work and to talk. Gossip was rampant in small towns, so with a little luck, by the end of the day, he'd have a better handle on what was happening to Jo and Leigh Ann.

 

— TWELVE —

It was close to six when Jo came out onto the porch, a wide smile on her face. “It's been a long time since we've had that much drop-in traffic. You worked magic, Ambrose.”

“Everyone loves a show, particularly the tourists, and this time of year they pass right by here on their way to the national tribal powwow in Albuquerque. That's a huge draw.”

“You could make some good money selling stuff there,” Jo said.

“Maybe, but I haven't wanted to travel to the city lately. It's a long trip and I don't want that much time alone to think.”

“Yeah, I hear that,” she said.

“What's going on, Jo? When I took a restroom break, I noticed the rifle in your office. And I saw that tribal cop stop by.”

“He wanted to ask me about last night,” Jo explained, then filled him in on what had happened at her house and why she was now traveling to work with a rifle handy.

“Look, sweetheart, I live less than twenty minutes from your place. If you're in trouble, call me.”

“Ben mentioned that you promised to keep an eye on us here, but you don't really have to do that.”

“You're wrong, Jo, I do. Ben and I are friends and that means something to both of us. If our situations were reversed, I know I could count on him to help me—no matter how tough it got. I have no intention of letting him down, so use speed dial. I can get there faster than most cops and I'm a good man to have beside you in a fight.”

“I have no doubt of that,” she said.

“Good. Now I'm going to talk to Leigh Ann. I think she needs a friend, too.”

Jo nodded slowly. “She's investigating some stuff related to her late husband and getting in way over her head. She's proud, too much so if you ask me, but sometimes pride's the only thing a person has left.”

“Yeah, and we both know what that's like, don't we?” He looked back at the table. “I finished three pieces this afternoon and Samantha put them on display. I know there was a lot of interest, but did any of them actually sell?”

“All of them,” Jo said with a grin. “I can cut you a check before you leave.”

“Good enough. Let me get my tools and torch packed up, then I'll grab another mineral water and talk to Leigh Ann while I wait.”

“I'll send someone to help.”

Jo went back inside, and a minute later, Leigh Ann came out. “I sure wish you'd stop by more often,” she said.

“For my wares?” he said, teasing her as he buttoned up his shirt.

“Yeah—all of them,” Leigh Ann answered, laughing.

“So, tell me, Leigh Ann, what's happening with you lately? I ran into Rachel at the Bullfrog,” he said, lowering his voice. “She said you're now packing a .38 for protection?”

“Rachel has a big mouth.”

“No, sweetheart, I'm just easy to talk to, or haven't you noticed? Women know they don't have anything to worry about around me.”

“But they can still dream, huh?”

“All they want. It's free,” he said with an irrepressible grin. “It's a great ego boost, too.”

She smiled.

“Rachel hinted that you were having problems, and that the law had been paying visits. You going to tell me what's up?”

“The short version,” she said, and briefly explained about Kurt's stash and the subsequent events.

“That sucks, darlin'.”

“Yeah, major league. But it is what it is. That's why I've started carrying a .38.”

“How long as it been since you fired a revolver?”

“I don't know … high school? Kurt was a rifleman and that's what we'd always shoot at the range. I don't remember him having a revolver at all until the .38 turned up. To be honest, I don't even know if he got it legally.”

“I didn't hear that.”

“I never said it,” Leigh Ann whispered, wishing she'd just learn to keep her mouth shut.

“I'm a member of the Zia Shooting Range—this side of Farmington. Why don't we go over there and practice?”

“I don't know … I was planning to run some errands,” she said. Target practice was something she and Kurt had done together and she really didn't want to stir up old memories.

“If you're going to be carrying that .38 around, Leigh Ann, loading, unloading, and firing it has to be second nature to you or you're likely to shoot yourself.”

“No, I grew up around guns. I shot in competition a few times back in high school, too. Sight picture, trigger control, all that is practically instinctive to me,” she countered, “but you make a good argument. I need to fire this particular revolver and get much better acquainted with it.”

“Let's go get in some practice.” Seeing Jo listening, he added, “You should come, too, darling. Bring that rifle of yours.”

She considered it and nodded. “All right. I can use a confidence builder. Once the last of the customers leave, we'll lock up and head on over.”

Several minutes later, Leigh Ann crossed the room to lock the front door and set the alarm. As she did, she saw John and Melvin pulling into a parking spot.

“Whoever's out there, ask them to come back tomorrow,” Jo called from the back of the store. “We're closed.”

“It's John and Melvin,” Leigh Ann answered.

“Were you expecting them?” Jo asked.

“No, I wasn't.” The men walked up onto the porch and Leigh Ann let them in.

“Hey, Leigh Ann, Jo,” Melvin said, looking in their direction.

“Okay, no way you caught a whiff of my perfume, or even my hair spray. By now both have faded away,” Leigh Ann said, smiling.

“True, but there's still enough light for me to tell you two apart. Your height, hairstyle, scent, posture; they're all clues in sorting out the mystery. You work with what you've got. We all do the same thing to one extent or another.”

“I see keys in hand, so I'm guessing everyone here's about to leave, Melvin,” John said, “so we should shove off, too. I'm already late.”