Canyon Secret (27 page)

Read Canyon Secret Online

Authors: Patrick Lee

Tags: #historical thriller

BOOK: Canyon Secret
11.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

After they closed down the Dew Drop Inn, Agent Hughes drove David’s pickup back to his trailer. Hughes congratulated himself for pulling off his plan to get Sednick drunk. It worked well. As they drove David continued his slurred bragging about his bank account. “Ya Ted, I got thousands in there. Easiest money I ever made. My partner gave me a good size commission to stash his dirty money in a couple of banks. In a few weeks I’ll take it out for him. That’s all there’s to it.”

Hughes pushed the issue, “Where does he get his money?” After David dropped the empty beer can on the floor of his truck, he formed an answer, “Don’t know. Don’t care. I don’t ask.”

“Who is this guy, Dave?”

David straightened up in his seat, “Oh, can’t tell you that Ted. It don’t matter anyway. Once the Dam is finished, we go our own way.”

Ted Hughes dropped off David in front of his trailer. “That was a hell of a good time. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He watched David stagger into his trailer. Hughes parked David’s truck and walked the half-mile to his own place. As he walked he reviewed his night’s work. “With time, the identity of the main man will come out. After that we will close in and possibly prevent another murder.” Hughes planned to call Butte on Tuesday morning to receive further instructions.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

 

 

 

M
ikhail walked to the waiting bus at the end of his afternoon shift. Bud Reynolds strolled beside him. September 10th came to a close as Bud’s wristwatch struck midnight. “How does it feel to have your last shift in?”

“Pretty good. This was a good job, Bud. I’m happy we get to work together at the Aluminum Plant.”

Bud nodded his agreement and handed Mikhail the keys to his black panel van. “I parked my brother’s van near the barracks for you. It’s gassed up and ready to go. You still plan on headin’ out in the mornin’?”

He stopped and received the keys, “Ya. Probably about six in the morning. I can get to Butte before noon. My daughter Katya promised me lunch.”

“When do you plan to come back to Columbia Falls?”

Mikhail cleared his throat before he answered, “They told me we could move in on September 20th. We’re gonna rent until I sell my house in McQueen. We can start house payments after that. They been good about it. Katya’s excited to see it.”

“Well, we’re glad to be your neighbors. You can start your new job at the Plant around October 10th or so. Whenever you’re ready to go.”

Mikhail held out his hand. Bud shook it and smiled. The brief eye contact cemented the new friendship without another word exchanged. Mikhail climbed up the stairs to the bus and took an empty seat near the front. The men on board the bus chattered and made plans to meet at the Dam Town Tavern. Mikhail turned down their offer to join them. He needed to pack and get some sleep before leaving in the morning.

As September moved along, the mornings seemed to stay darker a little bit longer. Tomas carried his father’s army bag full of his clothes to the panel van. In his white tee shirt and work jeans, he now stood only a couple of inches shorter than his father. He shivered from the cold and the anxiety of his father leaving to move out of their home in McQueen. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you, Dad?”

Mikhail flipped the heavy army bag onto the floor of the van. “No. I can take care of it. Most of the furniture will go to the Salvation Army.”

His voice cracked as he spoke, “Well, I mean you gotta deal with leavin’ the neighbors. Maybe I should be there with you.”

Mikhail shook his head, “No. You best finish workin’ your last couple of weeks. We’ll get back here in about ten days. Then I can use your help.”

Tomas realized the conversation was just about over. He sighed a sign of relief as he heard Nolan push open the barracks door. He appeared in his underwear. “Hey,Bohunk. Ain’t you gonna give me a goodbye kiss?”

Mikhail unzippered his work coat and set it on the front seat. “I’ll see you soon enough I expect.”

Barefooted, Nolan tiptoed across the gravel, “Ouch, ouch! Holy shit! I better get more than a kiss for this pain I’m goin’ through.” He wrapped his arms around Mikhail. “I’m gonna miss you so much. Me and my nephew will have to find company with the girls on the hill.”

Mikhail pushed him away. “Nolan, you keep my son away from there. It wouldn’t hurt you to stay away too.”

Tomas managed a smile as he walked close to his father. “Drive careful, Dad. I gotta go down for breakfast before work. See you on the 20th.”

Mikhail reached out and hugged his son. He tried to tell him how proud he was of him, but the words stayed inside. He knew a tougher goodbye with Tomas was only a month away. The next few weeks promised to be bittersweet. He dreaded leaving McQueen and his connection with the past. But his family had a new start, a new house, and new friends. Tomas’ leaving for the Navy would be hard. But his son would experience the world in a way he couldn’t provide. And Hannah. Their goodbye yesterday was special.

“Hey! Snap out of it. You’re squeezing the life out of nephew. He won’t be worth a shit to any of them lovely ladies of the night.” Mikhail released Tomas. He thumped Nolan on the chest with a slight thunderclap. The van door closed and soon disappeared down Sugar Hill.

The next morning at ten, Barnie Harbold entered Mikhail’s front porch. The old leather brief case hung by his side as Mikhail opened the door. “Good morning, Mr. Anzich. I’m Barnie Harbold. I got the paperwork in my case here.” He extended his hand, but Mikhail turned his back and walked into the kitchen.

Harbold sat down at the kitchen table and opened his briefcase. His fingers struggled to pull out the legal papers needed to buy Mikhail’s house and property. He laid the papers on the table and unclipped the paperclip. “Here’s how it works, Mr. Anzich. The Anaconda Company will buy your house up in Columbia Falls in exchange for your house here in McQueen. The realtor up in Columbia Falls there puts the price at close to yours here. So no money’s exchanged. We pay the realtor, and your house in McQueen belongs to the Company. Any questions?”

Mikhail and Katya sat at the table opposite of Harbold. He paused before he answered, “How long does it all take?”

Harbold stacked the papers in front of him, “It will take about three to four weeks for the papers to clear. Usually—”

“Will I owe anything’?”

“No. You’ll own your house in Columbia falls free and clear once the Company sends their check to the realtor in Columbia Falls.”

Mikhail extended his hand and temporarily released his icy stare, “I’ll read the papers now.” He and Katya carefully read the terms of the sale agreement. It seemed too easy for Mikhail. Second thoughts plagued him the entire drive to Butte the day before. After a sound night of sleep, all thoughts of doubt left him. His large index finger stopped about halfway down the page at the legal definition of the house and property. He reread the sentence, nodded his head and continued.

Katya finished reading the page and waited for her father to catch up. Inside she vacillated between excitement and nausea. “How in the world would they say goodbye to their friends and neighbors? How would her father face saying goodbye to his lifelong friends? And how would Anna stand up to the demands of moving into a new home?” Then the excitement of a new beginning flushed over her. “It will be for the best. Dad knows what he’s doin’.”

The second page contained lines for signatures. “I’m ready to sign.”

Harbold fumbled to hand Mikhail the fountain pen. The other homeowner that sold thought about the terms for a few days. The suddenness and decisiveness surprised him. “Are you sure? You can think about it for a bit if you want. There—”

Mikhail resumed his penetrating stare at the man in front of him, “I’ll think on it then. Come by in two days and I’ll have my mind made up.” Mikhail felt his daughter’s hand squeeze his leg. He looked at her and smiled confidently.

Harbold clipped the two papers together, stood up, and extended his hand. Mikhail stood up but didn’t shake Harbold’s hand. “If I sign, how will I know it’s a deal?”

“You’ll be contacted by the realtor at Main Street Realty in about two weeks. From there, you work directly with him.”

Mikhail nodded his head. He showed Harbold to the door, smiled at his daughter, and walked into the bathroom. He knelt at the toilet, lifted up the toilet seat, and vomited his pancake and eggs breakfast.

Early the next morning, George Maletta knocked on Mikhail’s back door. He stood holding a full cup of coffee and a thermos. Katya opened the door and welcomed him inside. “Mornin’, George. See you got some of your famous coffee there.”

“Would you like a cup, Kat?”

She retrieved a cup from the counter near the sink, “You bet. Dad’s coffee isn’t very good. Don’t tell him that though.”

“Where is he anyway?”

The bathroom door opened and Mikhail walked out. His hair stood up from the rough toweling he gave it after the shower. He stopped as he entered the kitchen, “Hello, George.”

“Mornin’, Mik. I guess that van outside and the visit you had yesterday from Harbold means you’re gettin’ ready to move.”

The moment he dreaded for weeks arrived. Mikhail sat down at the table. “Ya, George. We’re movin’.”

He opened his thermos and poured Mikhail a cup of coffee and refilled his own. Without looking up, he asked in his gruff voice, “Did you sell out to the Company?”

Katya stood up, “I need to check on Anna. It’s about time for her to get up. I’ll be right back.”

Mikhail took a long drink of coffee, “I told him I’d think on it.”

“When’ll you move then?”

“I imagine it’ll take about a week to load up and give away everything else.”

George tapped his fingers on the side of his mug. “Lots of people are upset with ya. But then you already know that, I suppose.”

Mikhail recalled times where George and Mikhail’s dad sat in the same kitchen and talked about baseball, mining, World War I, the McQueen Club, and how lucky they were to live in McQueen. “I don’t want it that way, George. But I don’t blame nobody. Someday they’ll understand why I’m doin’ it. I’d never move if that open-pit—”

“Bullshit! You’d move anyway. You ain’t like the rest of us. We plan to fight em’ to the end. Nobody understands your move now and never will! We’ll never see you or your family again. But—”

Mikhail moved his chair away from the table. His voice started to break, “I need to do what’s best for my family. Everybody else’ll do what’s best for themselves. My dad taught me that.”

The chair he sat on slid away from the table. He waved his finger at Mikhail, “Don’t never bring your father in on this argument. He’d hear nothin’ about what you’re doin’. You can bet your sweet ass he’d never cut and run.”

“George! We’re both losing our tempers here. I’m takin’ a walk.”

“That’s it! Walk away! You’re gettin’ good at it.”

Katya walked into the kitchen after she watched her dad slam the front door. “Is everything alright, George?”

He shook his head, picked up his thermos and cup, and went out the back door.

In the Club Café in Hungry Horse, David ate dinner with Ted Hughes. Outside of work, it was the first time they saw each other since their Labor Day trip around Glacier Park. Hughes now had his new instructions and set up a meeting with David, himself, and the lead FBI agent in the Butte Federal Office.

After they finished their chocolate cake dessert, Hughes approached the subject, “Dave, I got something important to talk to you about. Real important.” He praised himself for his selection of a quiet table in the corner near the kitchen away from the rest of the customers.

David wiped the corner of his mouth with the green paper napkin, “What, what’d ya mean?”

“I want you to meet somebody.”

With a nervous laugh, David responded, “Who? Is she a beautiful blonde?”

Hughes moved a little closer. “You need to trust me on this one, Dave. It’s for your own protection.”

He contorted his face and formed a question, “Who do I need protection from?”

The waitress came by with more coffee. Hughes waved her off and then answered, “Let’s leave it at that, okay. He wants to meet you at your trailer next Thursday after work. “Again, trust me Dave.”

“Okay. Will you be there too?”

He waved his hand, “Oh ya. I’ll be there too.”

As it had done for the past ten years, the siren in the McQueen Firehall sounded the noon signal. The workers in the nearby Leonard Mine opened their lunch buckets by the sound of the siren. Some of the older men automatically matched the siren against their worn pocket watches as they sat down to eat their lunches. Kids raced home from playing in order to get their peanut butter and jam lunch.

Mikhail walked back into the living room of his house. Anna slowly turned in her chair at the kitchen table. She greeted him with a big smile as she set her glass of milk down in front of her. Her smile momentarily chased away the heavy burden of his angry words with George.

“Did ya save any food for me, Anna?”

“Yes, Papa. Mom made two big sandwiches for you.” He washed his hands in the kitchen sink before he sat down next to her. “You have big hands, Papa.”

“Big hands to eat big sandwiches.” She smiled again and took a drink of milk. A milk moustache topped her lip as she carefully returned the glass. Mikhail laughed and said, “When did ya grow a moustache?”

“I don’t have a moustache, Papa.” He reached behind him and picked up a hand mirror from the counter near the sink. Anna giggled as she saw her image in the mirror. “Oh that’s milk, Silly.” She handed him the glass of milk. “Your turn, Papa. Make a moustache.” He looked around to make sure that no one else was watching. Slowly he brought the glass up to his mouth and created a huge white moustache. Anna clapped her hands together and laughed.

The happy noise in the kitchen brought Katya out from her bedroom. She hauled a load of freshly folded clothes with her. “What in the world is goin’ on out here?”

Mikhail wiped his mouth with his shirt sleeve but not before his daughter enjoyed the white moustache too. What a change of mood from his early morning visit with George Maletta.

Other books

Polity 1 - Prador Moon by Asher, Neal
The Perfect Son by Barbara Claypole White
The Perfect Stranger by Wendy Corsi Staub
Byron Easy by Jude Cook
The Air War by Adrian Tchaikovsky
Never Trust a Scoundrel by Gayle Callen