Half Past Mourning (3 page)

Good, he’s here. Maybe he can give me some idea about what to do next.
For almost a week Nina had been wrestling with the reality of finding Danny’s car. What the discovery meant, and how she could use the car as a clue to finding Danny, tormented her. Realizing her inner turmoil kept her from making headway, Nina had decided to turn to the man who always helped her see through the problems life handed her. Uncle Eldon would have an idea or give her a fresh way to look at the situation.

Nina dropped the keys to the old woody into her purse and headed for the museum that had become Eldon Lassiter’s domain. As she reached for the heavy door, it came open, and she grabbed at the handle to keep from falling.

“Whoa, there, Nina.” The voice came from the shadows around the door, but she recognized the man behind it. Ron Reeves, her uncle’s paint shop manager, came into the afternoon light. “Are you okay? Didn’t get hit by the door, did you?”

Nina waved the question away. “I’m fine, just didn’t see the door opening as I reached for it. Got myself off balance a little.” She stepped past him into the dimmer corridor. “I need to visit Uncle Eldon for a minute. Is he busy?”

Ron chuckled. “I don’t s’pose he’s ever too busy to see you. He’s back in the shop with the Princess. I think they’re going steady or something. He spends more time with that car than most men spend with their wives or sweethearts.”

Nina grinned at the tall young man. “Everybody needs a passion, and the Princess is his,” she reminded him.

“Reckon so, Nina.” He pulled a cap down over his head, light brown hair shining with either sweat or hair oil. “Keep an eye on him, will you, Nina? I’m going to spend a few days with my folks, and sure as anything he’ll decide to go out to the paint shop and ‘help.’ There’s a lot of stuff out there that he can’t manage by himself, and if one of the boys isn’t around to reach or hand him something, he’s liable to try to do it himself. Don’t want to see him fall or pull something down on himself.”

Nina gave him a conspiratorial nod. “I’ll keep his attention on other things. Your paint shop is safe.” She turned toward the door at the end of the hall. “Good to see you, Ron. Have a safe trip.” She waved and hurried on her way, her red sneakers making small thuds on the tiled floor.

As Nina entered the cavernous shop she could see her uncle, his wheelchair pulled close to the massive auto beside him, rubbing a chamois over the lacquer-red finish of the 1924 Isotta Fraschini that dominated the enclosed bay at the far end of the room. He stroked it as a cat fancier might pet a favorite Persian, with affection and pride.

“Does she talk back to you yet?” Nina padded across the floor to stand beside the man engrossed in his task.

Eldon Lassiter looked up, his brow wrinkled in surprise. He caught her hand and pulled her to his level to kiss her cheek. “She talks all right, Snookie; she really does speak to me.” He rolled his chair back to admire the magnificent view of his treasure. “She’s done, Nina. The Princess is ready to go out and tour her kingdom. Got the last polish on her yesterday evening, and gave her one more rubdown just now. Couple of the boys did the hands-on stuff, of course, but I watched every move they made. Isn’t she something?”

Nina toured the circumference, looking the old car over with a critical air. Restoring the exotic touring car had been a labor of love for her uncle, and he’d done a magnificent job of it.

“She’s a dream,” Nina agreed. “And she’ll make a spectacular addition to the car show this summer. I can’t wait to see what the judges think of her. I bet she’ll blow everything else in her category completely out of the competition.”

Eldon nodded, a satisfied glint in his eye. “She’ll do that and more. I’ve decided to enter her in the rally. That car was made to run, and she deserves the chance to take to the road.”

Nina took a step back. Uncle Eldon couldn’t drive the Isotta in the road rally. He’d have to modify the controls radically to be able to do that, and the modifications would eliminate the car from competition. The antiques in the contest, by the rules, had to be as they came from the factory.

“She’d be great in the rally,” Nina began, “but how…”

Eldon stopped her. “I know, Snookie, I can’t drive her myself, but my Princess will be out there on the road with the best of them. And she’s going to win, too. You’ll see to it, because you’re going to drive for me.”

“Me?” Nina couldn’t hold back the surprise and excitement that filled her. “Uncle Eldon! Do you mean it?” She took the chamois from him and whirled it around her head. “Whoopeee!” She tossed the scrap into the air and caught it. “You know I’ve wanted to drive the Princess ever since you brought her home.”

“I mean it, Snookie. I’ve always intended for you to have her, you know.”

Nina dropped to her knees in front of his wheelchair. “I’ll do it, and I’ll do you proud, you and the Princess. But you’ll have to navigate for me. The rules require teams of two.”

Eldon Lassiter shook his head. The silver threading his dark hair made wider bands than had been there even a few months back. Nina could see new lines in his face. Though only in his early fifties, the man’s injury and the chronic pain it brought had aged him more than his years. Her uncle suddenly seemed very old.

“I don’t think so, Snookie.” Resignation seeped into his lined face. “I think you’d better find a younger navigator this time. The Princess won’t accommodate a wheelchair, and I don’t believe I’d be help so much as hindrance. Ask one of the boys around here. They’ll jump at the chance and do a good job for you.”

Nina kissed his forehead. “The rally isn’t for three months yet. A lot can happen between now and July. Let’s wait and see how you feel about it when the time comes.” She couldn’t imagine making the celebratory run through the hills with anyone other than the man who had restored the magnificent chariot that would make the tour.

“Maybe we’ll both be surprised, Snookie.” Uncle Eldon turned his wheelchair toward the bay door. “Coffee? I have a thermos in the office and some cinnamon buns from the drugstore. Want to share?”

The thought of Luke’s cinnamon buns struck a chord. “Always,” she answered. “And I have something to talk to you about, as well.”

Her uncle’s low chuckle answered her. “Somehow I didn’t think you came down here on a Friday afternoon just to visit. That’s usually the Sunday afternoon event.”

Eldon Lassiter’s office held exactly what he needed at the level most manageable for a man confined to a sitting position. His desk was wide enough to let his chair roll into place. The usual office paraphernalia—typewriter, adding machine, paper, envelopes, pens—all were at convenient heights and reachable with minimal twisting and turning. Consequently the room was spacious, with open access and a clean tile floor. The lighting was bright without casting glares. Nina had spent hours helping her uncle plan it out, and he’d overseen every detail of the construction.

She followed his chair through the extra-wide door and waited as he flipped the low switch that turned on lights. Drawing the visitor’s chair away from the wall, she arranged it next to the desk as her uncle put a tray with cups and thermos in front of them. The coffee mug Uncle Eldon passed her had her name glazed on the side. He put a tempting cinnamon roll on a plate and pushed it across the desk.

“Okay, Snookie, what’s up? One of your fourth-graders in trouble? Is that Nash boy trying to follow in his hoodlum brother’s footsteps?” Uncle Eldon leaned back, and Nina could see she had his full attention.

The sticky bun suddenly lost its appeal. She put it aside. “No, it’s something pretty strange.” She looked into her uncle’s narrowed eyes. “I think…no, I
know
, I know I found Danny’s car. The T-Bird. I found it. But Danny wasn’t, hadn’t…” Her voice failed her.

Eldon Lassiter’s cup sloshed coffee over the edge. His hand was shaking as he set it down. “You found…Danny?”

Nina rubbed her eyes, running agitated fingers through her hair. “No, no, I didn’t find him, but I found his car.” She forced her thoughts into order so she could tell the story in sequence. “I went to that teacher’s playground workshop at San Felipe last weekend. I told you I was going, didn’t I?” At her uncle’s nod, she continued. “As I was leaving, I saw a yellow T-Bird in the parking lot. It was a fifty-five, it was just like Danny’s, and somehow I had to get closer. So I went over and took a good look at the steering wheel. You remember how Danny’s had that funny nick in the center, perfectly star-shaped? This car had the same mark in the same place. I knew, just knew, that it was his car.”

“And you found out who has it now?”

“I met him. I think he’s a professor, or an instructor maybe, at the college. He came out while I was looking at the car. I tried to find out how he came to buy it, but I didn’t get very far. I did get to drive the car, though. He’d entered it in the gymkhana, so I badgered him into letting me drive for him—and I won.”

Uncle Eldon snorted. “No surprise there. Against the local talent, if you hadn’t, I’d think you forgot everything I taught you.” His brows drew together. “And after you drove it, you still thought it was Danny’s car?”

Nina bit her lip. She couldn’t be wrong. “More than ever. I drove that car almost as much as Danny did. Blindfolded I’d know his car from a dozen just like it.”

A long silence filled the room as her uncle weighed her words. “Then it looks like you need to talk to this professor or whatever he is and see what he can tell you.”

Nina felt her face flush. Her uncle’s words had echoed the frustration she faced. “I know that’s the thing to do, but I feel like I’ve already made a terrible pest of myself. And he wasn’t too happy about giving me what little information he did. Maybe I sounded like a crackpot, or he thought I was making up some story, because I was so astonished to find a trace of Danny after all this time, I just said what came into my head. I probably sounded like a simpleton.”

The warm hand that reached across the desk held a wealth of reassurance. “Snookie, I suspect you sounded like a grieving woman trying to find some answers. Nobody could blame you for that.” He pursed his lips, his face a study of both hope and concern. “The thing to do, seems like, is to get in touch with this man, make a sensible approach, and see if he’ll talk a little more. Who is he? If he’s contacted the car club, I might know someone who knows him.”

Nina swiped at the hint of tears stinging her eyes. “I’m such a fool, Uncle Eldon. I was so caught up in the excitement, the miracle, of finding the car I didn’t get the man’s name. All I know is that he was coming out of one of the classroom buildings and he has Danny’s car. He’s tall, an inch or so over six feet, has reddish hair and the coldest grey eyes you can imagine. I’d know him if I saw him, but I didn’t get his name. I let the only clue we’ve ever had slip right through my fingers!”

****

Though her uncle offered reassurance and said he’d search his wide range of car-enthusiast friends, Nina didn’t feel too hopeful about finding the man who now owned Danny’s car. She had no evidence that he actually was a teacher at the small college in Pueblo. She’d only assumed he came from a classroom. He might have been a visiting lecturer or even a publisher’s representative. Nina shook away a suggestion that he could be the parent of a student. The man who drove the Thunderbird out of the school parking lot wasn’t old enough to have a child in college. He couldn’t be much over thirty.

Worrying over the puzzle of Danny’s disappearance had never been any help, and worrying over how to find the new owner of Danny’s car wouldn’t make it easier to find him, Nina reminded herself. With half a weekend ahead and no plans, she needed a project, an activity so physically demanding it would turn her restless energy into something productive. She’d taken her fourth-grade students on a nature walk and picnic, and the eight children who had ridden with her left “souvenirs” behind in her car. A good cleaning would benefit Woody the station wagon and give its owner a constructive Saturday afternoon.

Nina gathered her bucket and sponge, rags and cleansers, and moved the aging car into the driveway. Spraying a shower of water from the garden hose, she reminded herself that someday she’d have to trade for something newer than her old friend—someday, but not too soon. She loved rubbing oil into the wooden panels and shining the dark brown paint to a gloss. The work was tiring, but when she had finished the car shone as brightly as the day it rolled off the showroom floor. Nina gave the inside a vigorous brush-down with her whisk broom, cleaned the worn upholstery, and rubbed the windows to spotless shine. Mopping her hot face with one of her polishing rags, Nina stepped back to view her handiwork. A good job, if she did have to say it herself, though she was wearing about as much grime as she’d washed off the car.

Old Woody isn’t the only member of this household that needs a dunking.
Shrugging at her wet jeans, grubby sneakers, and the streaks of dirt on her arms, Nina rinsed her bucket and tossed her cleaning supplies into it for the next time. She left her rags sloshing in the washing machine in the garage and headed for the shower herself.

Sinbad, one notched tabby ear cocked, looked up from his perch on the fridge as she came in. He yawned widely and tucked his nose back into his paws. The comings and goings of his personal servant were no matter to him as long as the food bowl stayed full and the bed had a warm spot for his comfort every night.

“You have a hard life, don’t you?” Nina stopped to rub the ridge between his eyes. He acknowledged her with a rough purr. She scratched the spot behind his mangled ear but didn’t linger. Her damp clothes were chilly, and her skin prickled with goose bumps.

Leaving her jeans and shirt in a heap on the bathroom floor, Nina pulled the circular curtain around the old clawfoot bathtub and let hot water carry away the grime of her day. Though she barely carried a tune, the steamy surroundings inspired her to carol along with the radio in the bedroom. The Platters’ “Twilight Time” and Perry Como’s “Catch a Falling Star” got her through shower and shampoo, and by the time she finished singing along with Debbie Reynolds’ “Tammy” she was dressed in fresh jeans and a worn flannel shirt that felt good in the cool spring evening. She toweled her hair dry and gave the unruly curls a quick combing.