Double Blind (11 page)

“What deal?”

Wade smirked and shook his head. “I think you finally fucked up big time, Billy.”

Billy glared at him. “How do you figure that?”

“A witness saw someone big. Like you. The killer had access, knew the layout. Like you. He bashed Lloyd’s head in, which means he was strong. Like you. And, he stole a pair of boots. Timberland. Size 14. Like those.” Wade nodded down toward Billy’s feet.

“None of that makes me the killer.”

“Not yet. But, my investigation is just beginning.”

“Investigation?” Billy spat. “You couldn’t investigate a one car accident.”

“I guess we’ll see.”

“Yes. I guess we will.” Billy turned to leave, but stopped and faced Wade. “Be careful, Wade. Don’t go making accusations you can’t back up or I’ll have your ass in court so fast it’ll make you dizzy.”

“Look, Billy...”

Billy stepped closer. The smell of alcohol increased. “You look.” Billy jabbed a finger in the air between them. “You fuck with me and you’ll be sorry.”

He turned and stomped down the stairs.

Sam awoke to silence. Wonderful blissful silence. Maybe the couple upstairs had suffered heart attacks after all. Her prayers had been answered.  What time had she finally dozed? Three o’clock or so. The sexual Olympics above her had gone on at least until then.

So, why was she awake? God knows she needed the sleep. Then, she heard birds chattering outside her open window. That must be what awoke her. Or maybe it was the gentle breeze that rustled through the aspen leaves. Or perhaps the first light of morning that pressed against the sheer curtains.

She stretched and yawned, glanced at the clock. Eight. Her muscles were less stiff. Her run had done some good. She flexed her hands. Still stiff and swollen, but less than yesterday.

Fortunately, her next fight was two months away. Plenty of time for her body to heal. Then, back to the gym, the heavy bag, and Jimmy Ryker, her trainer, beating her into physical and mental condition.

Maybe 30 more minutes of sleep. After all, she was on vacation.

Then, it started. A giggle, a laugh, a moan. A faint creak, a squeak, and finally the full-on gasping and grunting of sex. Great. The happy groom had awakened with an erection and just couldn’t let it go to waste. Maybe she should call the bride’s father and tell him his new son-in-law was a sex addict. Maybe he’d come get his daughter and Sam could get some sleep. Or maybe she should call Nathan again and threaten him with bodily harm if he didn’t get his butt on a plane pronto.

She lay there listening for ten minutes and then gave up and rolled out of bed.

Jesus. Someone should throw cold water on them.

She stepped into the jeans she had dropped on the floor the night before and pulled on a sweatshirt. After splashing water on her face, she joined Alyss in the kitchen. Breakfast preparations were well underway. Bacon sizzled in a skillet and the aroma of baking biscuits drifted from the oven. Sam poured a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter, sipping it.

Alyss broke eggs into a bowl. She looked at Sam and laughed. “Not much sleep last night?”

“A few minutes here and there.”

“I heard them, too. At least until 2 a.m.”

“Then, you missed rounds four and five. Round six’s underway right now.”

“Tell me about it,” Shelby said as she came in. Her hair was a wild mess of tangles and several of her short braids had come unraveled, their Sesame Street clips missing. She accepted a cup of coffee from Sam and fell into a chair at the table, rubbing one eye with a balled fist.

“I wonder if they’re coming down for breakfast,” Alyss said.

They heard footsteps on the stairs and looked up to see the Kendalls, flushed with the afterglow of sex.

“Good morning,” Alyss said. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” Debbie said.

Kurt and Debbie took seats at the table. Sam poured coffee for them. Alyss served up eggs and bacon and placed a basket of biscuits on the table. Everybody dug in.

“What do you guys have planned for the day?” Alyss asked the couple.

“Drive around,” Kurt said. “See some of the countryside. Maybe go down to Ouray. I hear it’s beautiful.”

“It is,” Alyss said. “It’s called the ‘Switzerland of the Rockies’.”

“Then, maybe go for a hike this afternoon.”

“What time would you like dinner?” Alyss asked.

“Last night was wonderful,” Kurt said. “But I think I’ll take my bride out tonight. If that’s OK.”

“Of course,” Alyss said. “But, if you change your mind, I’ll fix something here.”

“I’m going into town to pick up a few things,” Sam said. She looked at Shelby. “Want to go with me? I’ll buy you some boots for our horseback ride today.”

“I have shoes.” Shelby wore a pair of black sneakers with silver trim and laces and four-inch thick soles.

Sam looked at them and shook her head.

“What’s wrong with these?” Shelby said.

“They won’t fit in the stirrups,” Sam said. “And you’ll need some jeans.”

“I have jeans.” Shelby tugged at her Raver-style jeans.

Fitted at the waist but with hugely oversized hips and legs, to Sam they looked like denim clown pants.

“They’re too baggy for horses,” Sam said. “You need some Levi’s. I bet I have a pair that’ll fit you. Come on.”

She and Shelby went to Sam’s room where Sam dug a pair of old and faded jeans from her suitcase. “These’ll do.”

“The legs are too skinny,” Shelby said. “Nobody wears these.”

“Around here they do. And if you want to keep your butt on a horse, you’ll need them. Just try them on.”

“But...” Shelby began.

“Humor me.”

*

Sam intended to take Shelby by Clowers’ Outdoor and Mountaineering Store, but when they passed Varney’s she saw it was open for business. She guided the Jeep into the first empty space she saw and they walked back to the store.

The front door stood open and a woman in a light blue dress and a navy sweater, sleeves pushed up to her elbows, was wiping down the checkout counter with a cloth. She had a pleasant face and neatly combed gray hair.

She looked up and smiled as Sam and Shelby entered. “Welcome,” she said. “Can I help you?”

“Are you Louise Varney?” Sam asked.

“Yes.”

“I’m Sam Cody. This is Shelby Cameron.”

Louise offered her hand to Sam and they shook. She looked at Shelby. “Alyss’ daughter?”

“Yes.”

“She’s told me all about you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet.” Louise turned to Sam. “You found Lloyd, didn’t you?”

Sam nodded. “I’m so sorry.”

Louise offered a weak smile.

“Are you OK?”

Louise sighed. “It’s not easy.”

“Why are you here?” Sam asked. “Don’t you want to be home?”

“And what?” Louise replied. “Stare at the walls and cry? I’ve already done that.” Her shoulders gave a sad shrug. “Besides, somebody’s got to run the store.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

Startled, Sam turned to see Billy Bear standing behind her, a large cardboard box hefted up on one shoulder. She hadn’t heard him walk up.

“I told her to go home. That I’d take care of things, but she’s too bullheaded,” Billy said.

“This is where I belong,” Louise said.

“OK,” Billy said. “I’ll stack these sweaters with the others, then I’m going back up the hill to clear a fallen tree out of one of the streams and finish burying the deer carcass I found yesterday.”

“Deer?” Sam said.

“Looks like somebody cut out what meat they could carry and left the rest. It’s been pretty well chewed up by scavenging critters.”

“This isn’t hunting season,” Sam said.

“No, it ain’t,” Billy said. “And I don’t allow hunting on my property anyway. I find out who did this and I’ll break his neck.” He looked at Louise. “I’ll come back later today and make sure you’re OK.”

“I’ll be fine,” Louise said. “You go ahead. But, come by for dinner. I’ve still got a refrigerator full of stuff. You didn’t make much of a dent in it last night.”

Billy carried the box toward the back of the store where he dropped it to the floor, ripped it open, and began stacking the sweaters on one of the tables.

“We need to get Shelby a shirt and some boots,” Sam said.

Louise directed Shelby toward a rack of pullovers. “Let’s see what we can find for you.”

Sam walked toward Billy. He had emptied the cardboard container and now crushed the empty box flat with his boot. Sam noticed the Timberline logo on the heel.

“How are you doing today?” Billy asked.

“Fine. And you?”

Billy shrugged an “OK.”

“Did you talk to Chief Wade?” Sam asked.

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“And nothing. He’s a jackass.”

Sam nodded toward the floor. “New boots?” she asked.

“Yeah. Just breaking them in.”

“Those the ones Wade’s all hot and bothered about?”

He eyed her with a frown. “Who’s side you on here?”

“Simply making an observation.”

“Sounds more like an accusation.”

Sam held up her hands, palms out. “No. In fact, I don’t believe you’re guilty.”

“But, you’re not sure,” Billy said.

Sam shrugged. “Wade seems to think those boots point the finger at you.”

He stepped close to her, his thick chest only two feet from her face, and looked down. “I special order my boots from Lloyd and Louise. Always have. I’m a little hard to fit. Can’t buy off the shelf, so to speak. The rocks up there are tough on them, so I go through a pair about every six months. ” He looked down at his boots. “I always keep a new pair in reserve. The ones that were stolen were mine, too. I just hadn’t picked them up yet.”

“And Wade knows that?”

“Of course he does. He just don’t care.”

“Why is he so sure you did this?”

“Long story. I’ll tell you about it sometime.”

“I’d like that.”

Billy smiled. “It’s a date then.” He headed toward the door. “I’ll see you later, Louise.”

“Be careful,” she said.

Shelby stepped out of the dressing room, tucking a loose fitting long-sleeved forest green pullover into the jeans Sam had given her. They accentuated her narrow hips and long legs.

“This is all backwards,” Shelby said. “The pants are supposed to be loose and the top tight.”

Sam laughed. “Now, let’s do something about those shoes.”

Fifteen minutes later, Louise had fitted Shelby with a pair of ankle-high boots with deeply treaded soles and rope-like laces. “These are what you need around here. Something that’ll keep you on the ground and upright. You might fall off these things and break something,” Louise said, holding up Shelby’s thick-soled tennis shoes.

Shelby walked back and forth. “These are comfortable.”

Louise rang up their purchases and Sam paid.

“You’re close to Billy, aren’t you?” Sam asked.

“He’s the closest thing to a son Lloyd and I ever had. Haven’t had any real family since my sister died about five years ago.”

“Why do you think Chief Wade suspects him?”

“Because that’s the easy answer, isn’t it?”

“How so?”

“You saw someone big. Billy’s that and more. The killer took Billy’s boots. Why would someone steal boots that didn’t fit? Nobody else around here has feet like that.”

“You’re making a good case against Billy,” Sam said.

“Except he didn’t do it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Still...” Sam began.

“Still nothing. I hear you’re a cop. Is the easy answer always the right one?”

“Not always. Sometimes.”

“Look, Sam. Wade’s nice enough, but he ain’t no real cop. We don’t need one. That’s why he’s been here so long. And he doesn’t care too much for Billy. That’s a known fact.”

“Why?”

“Billy’s the closest thing to a criminal we have around here. He’s been in a few fights. Got busted for growing marijuana. Wade couldn’t prove that though.”

“Never been in any real trouble?”

“A couple of years ago he got drunk and broke up Tankersly's Pool Hall. But he paid the damages so the charges were dropped.”

“And that’s the worst of it?” Sam knew half a dozen guys back home that had done worse than that.

“Yeah. That’s about it.”

Shelby stood before a full-length mirror, spinning one way and then the other as she examined herself. She tugged at her jeans and shirt as if searching for a comfortable arrangement. Sam and Louise shared a brief smile.

“Can I do anything for you?” Sam asked Louise.

“No. But thanks for asking.”

Sam turned to Shelby. “Ready?”

Shelby gave the shirtsleeve one final tug. “Yeah.”

They said their goodbyes to Louise and walked back to Sam’s Jeep. After Sam made a U-turn and headed back toward home, she said to Shelby, “Everything fit OK?”

Shelby fiddled with the laces to her boots. “Mostly. This’ll take some getting used to, but yeah, I think I like these boots. Thanks for getting them for me. And the shirt, too.”

“My pleasure. It’s a good look for you. Shows off your figure.”

Shelby wiggled in the seat. “I like my baggy jeans, though.”

Sam laughed. “You’ll like those after you wear them awhile.”

Shelby wedged a hand in one pocket. “Not much room in here. Good thing I have my backpack.”

“Is that what you call that Elmo thing?”

“Mom hates it. You don’t like it either, do you?”

“Adults never like what teenagers do, but we’ll get over it.”

“I wish mom was as cool as you. And Tiffany.”

Sam looked over at her. “She’s in a little different position than either of us, don’t you think?”

Shelby didn’t say anything.

“What makes Tiffany so cool?’ Sam asked.

“She thinks more like I do. Doesn’t judge me all the time.”

“And your mom does?”

“Constantly. And Tiffany’s younger. More my age. And beautiful and rich.

“Being young, beautiful, and rich doesn’t necessarily make you cool, though,” Sam said.
Just an insufferable bitch.

Again, Shelby offered no response. She nervously tugged at her shirt, and then smoothed her hand over her pant leg as if wiping something off her palm.