Alibi Creek (20 page)

44

MONDAY OCTOBER 29, 2007

S
COTT CARRIED
L
EE
A
NN
'
S OVERNIGHT
bag and the black suitcase inside.

“I don't think I can sleep,” she said. “Let's put some coffee on.”

She sat at the kitchen table in her coat, the weight of it bending her spine.

“Has Eugene been back, has he called?”

“No.”

The machine gurgled and sputtered and coffee dripped into the pot. She shook her head at his offer to make toast and eggs.

“Your uncle is a criminal,” she said. “There's a name for someone like him—a sociopath. He'll never be any different and it's up to us to distance ourselves. I'm dividing the ranch. He'll get the northern half. You and Dee are to have nothing more to do with him.”

“After two days of obeying boundaries, he'll do whatever he wants.”

“I'll shoot him if he sets foot on this half again. He knows I mean it. A surveyor will determine an accurate division of the property. Owen maybe, who will likely take great satisfaction in knowing the acreage is equal, but that Walker's half is useless.”

“If you strand him on land where he can't earn a living, he'll get into more trouble.”

“I don't care. He can go to…” If heaven didn't exist, hell didn't either. “…jail.”

Scott filled two mugs, set them down and took a seat. He seemed twice his age.

“I heard at the store that Dad's taken a job at the Diamond T Dude Ranch, down south. The previous manager quit after an argument with one of the guests.”

She held her forehead. A separation. Possibly, a divorce.

“Edgar's almost useless,” Scott said. “Dee's stuck with the whole load. I mean, he can manage things, but it's hard without Dad and only one good arm. You know, he considers me hopeless when it comes to ranch work. I'm doing the best I can.”

She said, “Please drive down there and talk to him.”

He reached across the table.

“Give him some time, Mom.”

She took his hand.

“I can't.”

“Dee will have more influence. I'll ask him to go.”

The courthouse hadn't collapsed without her. She stepped into stale air smelling faintly of ranchers' sweat, first time late in twenty years.

Lyle looked up from behind his desk.

“I've brought him back,” she said.

He leaned back in his wooden chair.

“Doin' my job,” he said. “Better'n I could myself.”

“I have more reason,” she said.

“Walker's agreed to give Owen the money.” She set the suitcase on his desk. “Most of it's there.”

Lyle got up slowly and walked her to the door.

“Owen would've sold the place in the end,” he said. “You could say Walker did him a favor.”

At the Brand New Motel, Danielle was updating reservations through Thanksgiving weekend on the computer.

“Walker's back,” Lee Ann said.

“Whoop-dee-doo.”

“I hear Eugene is working at the Diamond T.”

“I have no idea.”

The clock chimed ten. Danielle ran her tongue over her teeth.

“Look,” she said. “There isn't, and never has been anything between Eugene and me. I flirt with anyone under sixty whose name isn't Walker. There's a big distance and a huge difference between flirting and fucking, pardon my English.”

Lee Ann stepped back.

“I talk to men about some dumb thing like the weather while my eyes say, ‘I want to sleep with you.' That leaves it up to the guy to make the move. Eugene gave me nothing more than a helping hand.”

“The livestock auction in Belen…”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“You met him there. Suzette said you'd called in sick.”

“The only day I missed work was when Loretta and I drove to Albuquerque to catch the John Anderson concert at Sandia Casino. Loretta called in sick, too,” she said. “If you're assuming I've been seeing Keith, you have good reason. Eugene? No.”

The nasal twang and seductive pitch in Walker's voice had the women in the office tittering.

“I'll tell you the truth, ladies. I sold Ross's property so Owen wouldn't have to. Handled the details myself to save Owen a trip and Ross a lot of hassle. I had business up north, a little venture I couldn't postpone. Needed a few
grand and figured I deserved a small commission for all I'd done. Owen will get his money this afternoon. Look at you beautiful things! Midwestern gals got nothin' on you.” He swung his hands out and around his hips. “Broad asses and complexions white as Eugene's diesel, personalities bland as the diet they eat. Corn and more corn, ham and more ham. I stopped for breakfast in Colby, Kansas. The special was four eggs, four pieces of bacon or sausage, potatoes, biscuits and gravy. The men were so big their butts took up two chairs. I swear. Bigger than Harley's. Oops. That might be him now.”

Lee Ann entered as he ducked under a desk. The girls covered their mouths.

Caroline said, “Good morning, Lee Ann.”

“Get out from under there,” Lee Ann said.

She jerked her head toward the door and left the room. Walker's boot heels clipped down the stairs after her. When he ran ahead to open the door, she scowled and disregarded his questions about where they were going.

At Heaven on Earth Realty, Sue Reedy happened to be in.

“The Walkers!” she said, extending her hand. “Have a seat.”

“Good morning, Sue,” Lee Ann said, shaking hands. “We're here to divide the family ranch. I need to have Owen do the survey and split the north and south acreage equally. Walker will get the northern portion and I will keep the southern half. I want you to make certain all the documentation is correct and legal. Ted Bowles is handling Mother's will and can provide additional legal information if needed. The assessor's office has the correct property description and records.”

“I take it this is okay with you, Walker.”

“It is,” Lee Ann said.

45

W
ALKER WAVED AT
L
EE
A
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'
S
back as she hustled back to work. Adios, sister. Damn, he was developing a rash, probably fleabites from Scruffie's doggie bed next to Art's lumpy sofa. He kicked a golf ball sized rock back to the courthouse, scratching his armpits, and entered the county clerk's office with a sheepish look on his face.

Jo squealed.

“You skunk,” she said.

He scratched under his arm.

“I itch, but I don't stink.”

“I should never talk to you again.”

“You will though.” He jumped over the swinging gate and picked her up and kissed her cheek. “Darlin', I missed you. More than mourning doves, more than piñon nuts, more than…”

“Oh, shut up.”

He held her hips, nibbled her earlobe, refusing to let go. She hugged his neck and threw her head back and he laughed because any other woman's hair would have fallen away in loose waves, but hers stayed put and he stuck his nose in it, at least as far in as he could get. He set her down and cupped her chin and took in her face, every freckle, every pore.

“I need a shower,” he said.

“The house is open.”

“Come with me.”

“I can't just up and leave.”

“Sure you can.”

On second thought, he'd best deal with bug bites in private.

“Sweetheart, you're right. I'll get spruced up and meet you at Art's at five. In the meantime, see if your dad wants to get rid of that ugly brown pickup, if it's still running.”

“He'd rather crush it,” she said.

“Not if he thinks you're going to use it.” He kissed her cheek and jumped back over the gate. “It's just a loan until I figure a way to get my car back from Des Moines.” If it hadn't been impounded. Hell, might as well let that Honda go, talk to Leo about locating a four-wheel drive.

Scrubbing down in the shower, he ran through a list of potential names for the new ranch:
The W W.
No, spell it out.
The Double W.
Or
The Double Double U.
Too much like a cattle brand.
Elk Canyon Cabins, Rimrock Ranch, Bear's Tooth Canyon, Eagle's Nest.
Those names were kinda' catchy, but conjured up images of some big-time Alaskan lodge, not quite right. The valley north of what would be Lee Ann's border was like no other country, rugged and untamed, yet intimate.

North of the Border.

That's it! He could see it. Welded letters on a steel portal, willows on each side, the creek just beyond, pink clouds fading to purple over the west mesa.

He dried off and raised his arms in front of the mirror and inspected his armpits. Checked his crotch. In the medicine cabinet he found anti-itch cream and smeared a generous amount over his body. Strange item for Jo to keep. She'd itched somewhere. He took his shirt, socks, and pants outside and shook them, dressed, and tucked the tube in his jacket pocket.

“Well, well,” Danielle said. “Two Walkers in one day. I thought you were dead.”

“Great to see you, too.”

“We can talk about whatever you're here to discuss after work.”

“I don't think so, precious. Let's see. In case you think I have $880,000.00, I don't. Lee Ann has it and she's giving it to Owen. She's dividing the ranch and I get the northern half. I've promised not to get divorced until all that's legal, which will be pretty quick.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“If you go after me while I'm still part owner of the entire ranch, Lee Ann stands to lose half of her part. After the property is divided, you can only get half of my half. But, the way I see it, after the divorce, you'll leave me alone. I don't have any money to buy you out and you can't do anything with any part of that land.” Her fingernail made an annoying noise on the counter. He ought to squeeze her cheeks until those eyes aimed at the ceiling popped out of their sockets. “We don't want to be neighbors.”

“I said I'd take my chances when we got married,” she said. “I should have known… you always screw up. God, I can hardly look at you.” She quit tapping and jabbed her finger in his chest. “You took off without paying me my share.”

He scratched the underside of his left arm and avoided her eyes, which squinted as if the lids were holding back poison darts aimed directly at his forehead. He knelt down pretending to pick something up off the floor and rubbed his crotch.

She said, “I've been living with Keith. We get along. I can't wait to end any arrangement with you—marriage, divorce, whatever. Your death would have been the best of all possible outcomes, but you screwed that up, too.”

He stood up and scratched his chest. “I don't see that you have much to complain about.”

She opened her mouth to speak, then turned her back.

“I got work to do,” she said.

Women!

He needed a drink. At Art's, he called for a double shot of whiskey on his way to the bathroom, where he tore open his shirt, dropped his pants, slathered cream over his body, buttoned up, and winked at himself in the mirror.

He downed the whiskey and tipped the glass at Art.

“That dog of yours has some serious bugs,” he said.

When Jo showed just after five, he felt no itch. He ordered her a Manhattan and hung an arm over her shoulder.

“I charged a few shots to your tab. We'll settle up later. I been thinkin'… aren't you getting tired of the same old job in the same old town, year in and year out? What do you say you and me open a hunting lodge?” He leaned close and explained his inheritance of the northern half of the ranch. “When the Rossmans find out I'm their new neighbor, they'll want to sell out. It might take a dozen hound dogs that bark day and night, and goats that pay no attention to fences and chew up everything in sight, and a little muzzleloader target practice right about dinnertime to influence them, but eventually they'll get the message that country vacations ain't all they're cracked up to be.”

She hadn't taken a sip of her drink, puffed on her cigarette, or moved a muscle.

“It's a good idea,” she said. “But I'm not giving up job security, health benefits, and retirement income to play hostess in the woods.”

“You'll love it. The clientele will change all the time. We'll sympathize when most of 'em whine about the elk
they almost shot and celebrate with the ones that got one. It'll be like having friends that pay us. When we don't have customers, we'll sleep late. I'll bring you breakfast in bed.”

“I'd like that,” she said. “I know you, though. After two days you'll forget.”

“That's my appeal, baby. Always up to something new.”

“Too many surprises can wear a girl out.”

Not her, though. Not Jo. She had a certain something that took life seriously, and didn't—a unique combination of abiding by the rules and delighting when they were broken. She'd mull over this latest scheme, debate whether they could live together, whether she could handle the operation alone in case he took off and blew all their earnings on a whim, whether he'd default on his share of the work, or tire of her.

Her freckles danced like little dots of light and he wanted to kiss each one, separately, just a peck, a hundred pecks, a thousand, until she pushed him away, laughing. He'd fill with pride, pleasing her so.

“Is
su casa, mi casa?”
he asked.

“For one week,” she said. “That's all I can stand.”

They went to Vera's for gristly burgers and greasy fries and back to the bar to finish the evening. Holding her hand, he tripped into her bedroom, aimed his body at the bed, and dove onto the mattress. Amazingly, alcohol and Jo had cured his rash.

“I've never shed theesh wordsh.” He threw his arm over her hip and spoke into her arm. “I love you.”

“Say, ‘I love you, Jo.'”

Uh-oh, what was he getting into? Women change once you commit. They nag at mud on the rug, clothes on the floor, how the toothpaste is squeezed, the way a towel is
hung. She'd be his partner all right, throw a noose around his neck and lead him around like a horse about to be broke. Once broke, he'd behave. Maybe even like it. Maybe.

“I love you, Jo.” He kissed her shoulder. “Can I use your car?”