Monday, April 08, 2013

The Ink-Stained Trail - Chapter 6

I walked slowly back through town, trying to decide on my next move. Or I tried, but the question of why I was bothering at all kept cropping up. I hadn't been hired, wasn't being paid. Not something I want to make a habit of. I'd gotten involved at the start because I couldn't figure what the Raccoons were doing running a racket out here in the sticks. I'd gone wide off that trail.

I had a feeling I was getting in out of my depth, but before that train of thought went any further, I spotted the husband and father from last night's trip to the country, Mr. Guttierez. He was headed into the drugstore, so I followed him in, wandered up and down a couple of aisles, and eventually sidled up nest to him to introduce myself. He looked up, kind of distracted. he'd been eying the allergy remedies. Good place to start.

"A summer cold? Those are the worst."

He shook his head. "Not for me. My son Juan has allergies."

"Must be rough then, living in the middle of a field full of flowers." Hector, that was his name, look surprised, but then shrugged.

"He never had them back home, and his mother and I thought it would be good to have room to play."

"There's certainly plenty of that out there," I nodded vigorously, my head bobbing like a cork in the water. "Must have cost a pretty penny."

Now Hector looked a bit uncomfortable. Understandable. Some folks don't like to talk about money. Usually they've got it, but don't want anyone to know it. Didn't seem like the case here. "No, not really. The Charlanes gave us a very good deal."

Hector was starting to back down the aisle, allergy remedies forgotten. I decided to press before he bolted. "I thought maybe your old friend Maggie lent you the bread."

Eyes darting about, anywhere that wasn't my face. "I don't know what you mean. I don't know any Maggie."

I stepped closer, pitched my voice low, sharing a secret with just Hector. "I figured anyone who drops by to visit after dark like she did last night my be an old friend. The sort of friend who would help you out." I tried to keep it a friendly whisper, like it was a private joke we were sharing, but Hector just looked petrified. It took a moment for me to realize he was focused on something over my shoulder. I glanced back and saw one of, no, two of the Cowbirds back there. One was working behind the register, the other was standing nearby. They tried to look like they were discussing eczema treatments, but they kept looking our way. I turned back to Hector. I'd seen the look in his eyes before, Buddy's in The Dive Bar. Two hours later, they'd been empty, cold, and dead as he was flat on his back in an alley. I tried to shake the memory off, but there was no getting around it: I'd handled this poorly. Now I had to fix it.

I discarded the idea of making a big scene, make it look like Hector stonewalled me. As shaken as he looked, a loud noise might spook him into blurting something out after all. Better to stick with the original plan.

"So no one helped you out?" I put on my best hangdog look, the one Nancy had found endearing - she had a real soft spot for down and out types - and tried to sound disappointed. "That's too bad. Not for you, obviously, but my pockets are a little empty these days. I was just hoping there was someone who helped." Hector's face relaxed a bit at that, like an old door you broke the hinges off of.

"Well, like I said, the Charlanes gave my family and all the others fair prices. I bet if you asked, they'd work something out with you. The homes mean a lot to them, and they'd be glad to have people moving in."

I lifted my shoulders up and put some pep in my voice. "That'd be just great. I'll have to be in touch with them. Thanks." I shook his hand rapidly, like he was a pump I wanted water from, and I rushed out into the street. Hopefully I hadn't gotten him in dutch with those overgrown doorstops. Just to be sure, I crossed the street and turned left, then watched the drugstore from an alley. Hector found something he thought was worth trying, bought it, and left. he crossed the street same as me, but went north instead of west, probably towards' Charlie's, one of the higher-end restaurants in town. The high-end restaurant in town, which wasn't saying much. Our eavesdroppers didn't follow. One was still working, but the other exited, and turned east, in the direction of the hotel. He cast a glance around, on the lookout for me, maybe, but I went a third direction, continuing west back to my room.

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