Alibi Creek (23 page)

PART THREE

53

TUESDAY DECEMBER 25, 2007

J
ESUS
'
BIRTHDAY
. S
COTT AND
D
EE
had argued about cutting a tree, Scott claiming every living thing should be left to complete its growth cycle, Dee saying the forests were overcrowded and thinning them for a once-a-year holiday maintained their health, as well as upheld tradition.

He said, “City people buy their trees from Christmas tree farms. Country folk don't make a dent in the forest.”

“That's the problem with the environment today. People like you don't have a conscience,” Scott said.

“If butchering hogs and cows and hunting elk is acceptable, so is sacrificing a tree. What's this family coming to?” Dee swung his chain saw into the truck. “Ginny's family will appreciate it.”

Lee Ann hadn't gone to church for over a month. Last week, when Pastor Fletcher came to call regarding her lack of attendance, she admitted having given up her faith, and when he wiped his brow with the dirty handkerchief from his suit pocket, sputtering about losing a lamb from the flock, his distress did not move her.

As a compromise to Dee, they'd exchanged small gifts at dinner the night before, and in the morning he left early to spend Christmas day with Ginny's family. Lee Ann left Edgar a tin of oatmeal cookies, half a ham, and a box of Leona Webb's peanut brittle. He still used an outhouse and would find them soon enough. She helped Scott break up
the ice on the stock tank and feed the pigs. His new work gloves fit perfectly.

He'd given her two books:
The Agnostic's Bible
and
Women in Government.
At lunch, he pressed the point of her running for commissioner.

“You and Jo,” she said. “I'd be the laughing stock, maybe get half a dozen votes.”

She counted on her fingers those who might mark an X by her name.

Scott said, “James Catlett is going to run. You could end up working with him. He's a good man. You're the one with experience, though.”

“I'm also the one who condoned what they did.”

“Don't underestimate folks. They know the spot you were in. They'd have done the same to hold onto a job with benefits.” He swallowed the last bite of his sandwich with a swig of tea. “Corruption has been accepted here for so long. Accountability in local government is going to be something different. Give them a chance to elect decent people. I bet they will.”

“While we're on the subject of decent people, help me think of who I can hire as a permanent hand.”

“I'm staying, Mom.” He put his cap on backwards. “Edgar can barely make it to the chicken yard and Dee can't manage alone. My mind's made up. As Uncle Walker might say,

              
I'm resigned

              
to toeing the line

              
and being confined

              
within the county line.”

She shrugged and offered a weak smile. Too much had been lost in too short a time.

“I know you don't want to hear anything about Walker,” Scott said. “But he hasn't been seen for weeks.”

“You're right. I don't want to hear.”

In the days following, she wept into her pillow, touched the backs of chairs where Eugene had sat, the mug he'd used, and door handles he'd turned. She'd heard of heartache, but she hadn't known it referred to a specific gnawing pain under the breastbone, there at night, in the morning, and throughout the day, the only cure Eugene's return. She wore down the path to Mother's, back and forth, her coat wrapped tightly around her body, childhood memories drawing her into each room. The walls were cold, the sofa, closets, and beds odorless. She opened the kitchen cup-board and held one of Mother's china plates to her chest, held the cotton dishcloth to her cheek, took her slippers home to walk in her shoes.

And Walker. Where had he gone and what was he up to this time?

54

TUESDAY JANUARY 1, 2008

O
N THE FIRST DAY OF
the new year she made pancakes and announced that two or more emotions could exist simultaneously. Each day presented an array of sentiments—sadness and gratitude, anger and peace, regret and hope. There was time for rest, but also for duty. Taking action while grieving was possible. She would run for office.

Scott raised his orange juice.

“Good job. Way to go, Mom.”

Dee said, “Are you crazy? You just got out of there.”

“I'm going to go back and do it right, if they'll have me.”

“Half the county will hate you,” Dee said. “That's the nature of a commissioner's job. It's worse than sheriff.”

“That's because they've all been unethical bastards,” Scott said.

“She's a woman.”

“No kidding.”

“They'll eat her alive. Don't do it, Mom. It's not worth it.”

“I've worked there long enough to anticipate the pitfalls. Someone's got to improve things.”

Scott clapped. “Spoken like a true politician.”

“Better get used to it, Dee,” she said. “I've got a call in to Jo to help me run my campaign.”

“Dad won't like it,” Dee said.

“Dad isn't here. And if he should come back, I think he'd approve. He's criticized my attitude about my job.”

“Ginny's cousin Derek has quit the rodeo circuit and is looking for work. He's coming over this afternoon.”

“What's the condition of his body?” Scott asked.

“Probably better than someone whose nose is stuck in a book all day. It's a toss-up, though. Man with crushed spine, cracked ribs, and busted nose versus a cowhand who's only half here.” He grabbed the beak of Scott's hat and pulled it down over his eyes. “Hope it works out, bro, so you can get on with figuring out how to breed that small heifer with a bigger uterus and wider birth canal.”

55

THURSDAY JANUARY 3, 2008

A
MEETING HAD BEEN POSTED
for seven p.m. at the Brand Community Center to inform county residents of Walker's disappearance and ask for help locating him. Under the stark glare of overhead lighting, the dingy cedar paneling and beige linoleum floor looked the same, day or night.

Lee Ann joined twenty others seated in front of Lyle, Jeremy, and Lewis, who addressed the group from either side of a county map propped on an easel. Owen sat front center, and Art, who'd been missing his best customer, had taken a chair directly behind him. Dee pulled up a chair for Sherry from the Alibi Creek Store. Henry Gillman, who had a small plane and used any excuse to fly it, motioned to Danielle, who strutted in wearing tight jeans and a fake fur jacket, to sit next to him. Jo and Gerald Murray arrived together. Lee Ann stood in the back.

Lyle held up a calendar and pointed to November 21st, the last night anyone had seen Walker. The man he'd been with, Pat Merker, hadn't been seen since, either. Foul play was not out of the question, since Walker had recently been issued a cashier's check for approximately twenty thousand dollars, which had not been withdrawn from the Dax County State Bank.

Lee Ann gripped Caroline's chair. The paneling melted into a brown haze, as if the whole room and everyone in it
had been dipped in a mud puddle. The fool! Only an idiot would walk around with a check for that amount of money in his wallet. She should have taken him by the hand, like a little boy, and insist he deposit the money. Then again, it was his to squander, save, or lose.

“We're not coming to any conclusions here,” Lyle said. “We're asking for clues regarding Walker's whereabouts and volunteers to search for him. The pair left the Hole in the Wall at closing time, driving a tan Pathfinder, an Avis rental. They weren't fighting. No one noticed what direction they headed. If they went south, they didn't make it to the border. If they went north, they didn't come back to Brand. I've checked motels and gas stations east and west. So far, the vehicle hasn't turned up, leading me to believe the car is still somewhere in the county.”

“I hate to be a pessimist,” Art said, “but you got a hell of a job covering seven thousand square miles of wilderness with deep canyons, rugged mountains, and unlimited places to hide a vehicle, and a body, or both.”

“I'll fly over the region tomorrow, as many times as you want,” Henry said.

“Jeff and I will hike Saliz Pass and cover the ground from Brand to Los Olmos,” Terry said.

James Catlett, a member of Search and Rescue, said they were ready to help.

They talked as though Walker was dead. Lee Ann thought so too, although hadn't known it until this moment, when it suddenly seemed as if she'd read Walker's life story and his journey couldn't end any other way. His antics danced before her eyes. Walker scrambling over the fence as a three-year-old, hiding in a tree watching the whole family wonder if he'd drowned, delighting in hearing his name screamed, snickering while they searched up
and down the creek until way past dark; conning Edgar into driving to the store to buy him cigarettes and beer before he was twelve; using valuable pre-historic Indian pottery for target practice; selling grandmother's precious wedding ring with the little diamond flanked by two sapphires and looking high and low for it, telling Mother it must have gotten lost. But the movie was a re-run and she lost interest. She remembered washing her hands in the Walmart bathroom after visiting Pat Merker, whose squinty eyes hinted at some dark aspect of his nature, perhaps more dangerous than what Walker could handle on the outside. Jimmy Zebrowski had said he'd shot a man in both legs. Walker might have not fully understood the depth of his dark side.

Caroline asked what, if anything, the commissioners' office could do and Lyle suggested the clerk write a letter asking county residents to stay alert for signs of the men and report anything unusual to the sheriff's department. He thanked everyone for attending, apologized for the lack of any new information, and closed the meeting.

Lee Ann joined Caroline on the way out.

“I'm so sorry about this,” Caroline said. “We miss you at the office. What a mess this audit has been—Gerald Murray has the entire courthouse turned upside down. The commissioners haven't been around since he showed up. A hundred times a day I wish you were there.”

“I'll be back.”

Outside, snow sugared the ground. Everyone had left except for the sheriff and deputies, who were locking the building. As Scott walked Lee Ann across the parking lot, a small pickup turned on its headlights and swerved in close. Danielle lowered her window.

“He signed the divorce papers,” she said. “But I'm not filing.” She lowered her voice. “If he never comes back, that property is mine.”

Lee Ann said, “That land is no longer of any interest to me. Good luck.”

56

SATURDAY JANUARY 5, 2008

A
CALENDAR HUNG ABOVE A
row of hats in the mudroom with Wednesday, January 16th circled in red. Dee's shoulder had been pronounced healed at his last orthopedic appointment, with no follow-up required. He and Ginny were planning an engagement party to be held at Mother's house on February 9th. Edgar wasn't due at the optometrist until March. Lee Ann straightened the line of boots under the hat rack and took another look at the date. Must have been a mistake. She collected the bulkier jackets and carried them to the hall closet before Jo arrived, and there she was, right on time.

They took chairs next to each other at the kitchen table and divided the list of registered Republicans. Walt's son, Terry McIntyre, would soon be instructing his wife and daughter to do the same in his taxidermy shop. Leo's cousin, Nestor Rodriguez, had also thrown in his name for county commissioner and Harley's nephew, Ralph Ellison, was hoping there'd be enough of Harley's loyal-to-the-end cronies to ensure him enough votes. James Catlett, the sheriff's son-in-law, was the only Democrat, but only twenty-seven percent of the county voted liberal, three percent Independent.

Registration was May 8th. Jo had insisted they start early, get folks used to the idea of a woman running for something other than county clerk or county treasurer. She
suggested Lee Ann attend every friggin' county event (she slapped her hand on the table) and get back to church! They laughed at that, since Jo was no churchgoer.

“And I have no intention of pretending,” Lee Ann said. “Look at us, presuming to elect a woman as county commissioner! Using a woman's kitchen as campaign headquarters!”

They laughed at the odds, at the chance. They laughed until they cried, until they had no breath, until their sides ached.

Lee Ann handed out paper towels and they dabbed their eyes and noses.

“Can I confide in you?” Jo asked.

Lee Ann's smile vanished. Friendships required trust. Throw up a roadblock, close that avenue. Or make a friend.

“Go ahead,” she said.

“I'm seeing Gerald Murray.”

A friend would express her feelings, comment, or add an opinion.

“I'm glad, Jo. He seems like a nice man.”

“About the nicest thing with three legs that's ever come into my life,” Jo said.

They giggled at that.

Lee Ann divided the list in half and straightened the envelopes. She tapped the stacks and took one off the top and put the envelope down.

“Jo, do you think Walker is…”

Jo laid her pen down and fingered the roll of stamps.

“Dead? I'd hoped not. But yes, I do. And I'm so sorry.”

They lowered their eyes and gave Walker a moment of silence.

Lee Ann handed her half of the list.

“You start with the As and I'll start with the Ms. Would you like something to drink?”

“Not unless it's ninety-proof.”

“Sorry, I don't have any hard liquor. But, there's beer in the fridge.”

“Join me.”

Lee Ann eyes twinkled like a kid who just got permission to stay up late.

“All right.”

They addressed envelopes, telling tales and reminiscing about incidents associated with names that came up, Jo stopping from time to time to jot down points to include in Lee Ann's introductory letter.

“We want to mention education.”

“I don't think so, not yet,” Lee Ann said. “The topic makes people uncomfortable.”

Education. The circled date on the calendar. The final day for late registration at the University of New Mexico.

“Excuse me,” Lee Ann said, knocking her chair back.

She grabbed her jacket and ran to the pigpen. Scott wasn't there. She called out. Louder. The barn was empty. She found him behind the workshop changing the oil in his pickup.

“There you are! I've been looking high and low. Scott, the deadline for late registration is a week from Wednesday. You must go.”

“We already talked about this, Mom.”

“I know. Look, Dee and I can manage.”

“I doubt it.”

“He thinks Derek might work out. He's starting part-time next week. You can come home once a month, and for roundup and butchering.”

He closed the hood and she leaned both elbows on top.

“I expect to see you packing tomorrow.”