Borderland (11 page)

Vic
wanted to talk about it. He wanted to know if he was jeopardizing the lives of
his daughters and his friend by allowing Myra and Cal to move in. If someone
wanted them dead, how far would they go to get the job done? When they broke
for lunch, he asked Myra to ride into town with him so he could report the fire
to Ed Kisner and the sheriff.

"What's
the point?" she said. ''There's nothing they can do now. And no one's
going to rush to take up a hardship collection for us. You don't know these
people, Vic. I do need to replace the groceries that burned last night, and I
would like to use the phone in town, but I'm not interested in coming under the
scrutiny of the law again. They tried to make me look like a fool about those
horses."

Vic
noticed the wondering gazes of Cal and the girls. They were eating the tuna
sandwiches Myra had prepared and listening with avid curiosity to the
conversation. The girls looked even smaller when seated in the huge chairs of
the dining-room table. The table dwarfed everything in the room.

"Cal,
can you look after the girls while your mother and I run to town?" he
asked. "We shouldn't be gone too long. And Nolan's around here
somewhere."

"He's
out front working on the car," Cal said.

Vic
frowned. "Doing what?"

"Adjusting
the oil filter, I think. He found a leak yesterday. He's probably done by
now."

"Thanks,
Cal." Vic held out his hand and Myra left the dining room ahead of him.
She told him she needed to fetch her purse upstairs and would meet him at the
car. Vic went outside and found Nolan slamming the hood on the Buick.
"Everything okay?"

"Yeah.
Wasn't me after all. Maybe it was one of Myra's midnight marauders."

Vic let
that pass. "We need to run into town to replace some groceries. Got the
keys on you?"

"In
the ignition," Nolan said. He stepped away from the car and approached the
porch. His voice lowered. "I wasn't going to say anything, because it's
not my decision. But in case you haven't noticed, someone doesn't like Miss
Myra. When she moves in, all her troubles move in with her. Have you thought
about that?"

"All
morning," Vic said. "But since her trailer is on my land I guess her
troubles are my troubles. I'm worried, but I can't exactly put them out in the
barn. They just lost nearly everything they had."

"Well,
what about you?" Nolan countered. "What the hell are you going to do?
Look around, Vic. You're over the shock and your eyes are open. How the hell
are you going to survive out here?"

Vic
sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I'm going to do what my dad wanted and sell
the damned place. I was stupid to think I could live out here. I can't. Not like
this. But maybe I can get a good start somewhere else with what little this
place is worth. A hundred and sixty acres with some good pasture and two decent
ponds ought to be worth something. It probably won't sell before August,
though, so as far as I'm concerned, Myra and Cal can stay until they're able to
go."

"Thank
you," Myra said behind him, and he turned to see her open the screen door.
"I'd pay rent if I could, but I don't have it. I can pay you in August
if—"

"Forget
it," Vic said. "You help me buy groceries and split a few costs and
we'll call it even. At least we won't have to worry about an air-conditioner
running up the electric bill."

Myra's
smile was rueful. She started down the steps then halted as Nolan spoke to her.

"I
take it your mobile home was uninsured?"

"The
policy lapsed at the first of the month. I couldn't pay the premium."

Vic
nudged her from behind and she continued down the steps. Nolan made her walk
around him, but he moved for Vic. Vic frowned at him and went to open the passenger
door of the car for Myra. When they were on the road and driving toward town,
he turned to her. "Did something happen between you and Nolan that I don't
'know about?"

Myra
looked at him. "In terms of maturity, Cal has Nolan Wulf beat hands down. Does
that tell you anything?"

Vic
shrugged. "Nolan has his problems, but he's a good man." Smiling
suddenly, he added. "You probably remind him of his mom, the
professor."

"His
mother is a professor?" Myra said in disbelief. "A college
professor?"

"Head
of her department," Vic said. "I don't remember which one. Nolan ran
away to live with his dad when he was seventeen. He said his mom drove him
nuts. His older sister is a pediatrician."

"What
did his father do?"

"College
baseball coach. Nolan was one of his star players."

Myra was
nodding. "I see. And he sings, too."

Vic
glanced at her. "You heard him?"

"A
little. Cal's been singing the same bawdy song all morning."

"Hey,"
Vic said, responding to her dry tone. "Nolan is all right. You just have
to get to know him. He's stood by me through shit you wouldn't believe."

"A
good dog will do the same thing," Myra said.

Vic
didn't want to get into it with her. Nolan might like to keep sparks flying,
but Vic enjoyed keeping things calm and manageable. He decided to change the
subject. "Where do you suppose the nearest real estate agency is
located?"

"Garden
City, probably. You can check the phone book in the store. Have you decided to
sell?"

"What
would you do?" he replied.

"The
same thing. I was even going to suggest it to you. The house won't be worth
much, but the barn and the land should bring a decent price. It may take some
time to find a buyer, though."

"Who
owns the adjacent land?"

"The
town," Myra said.

"Denke?
I'm not sure I understand."

"I
didn't either, until Darwin explained it to me. Everyone lives in town, but
they farm the surrounding land together and divide up the profits. In good
years, everyone prospers; in bad years, everyone suffers."

"Sounds
like socialism to me. So the town is literally incorporated?"

"Yes.
Jinx Lahr and the other business owners make up the town council, which takes
care of any and all town business. It's a tight-knit little community."

Vic
found it interesting, and he was curious. "How did Dad fit in?"

"I'm
not sure. He seemed to have a good rapport with the townspeople, but I don't
think he had much to do with them beyond filling up his car at Tom Hamm's gas
station or buying food at Vogel's grocery store. People were always inviting
him to dances and other town activities, but he never went. He liked to stay on
the farm with us."

Vic
nodded. "What exactly did your husband do for my father?"

Myra
trained her gaze on the road. "He helped with the studs. Patrick wanted
his own stud farm some day. He came to Darwin to learn the trade."

"I
see." Vic didn't miss the sudden coolness in her voice. "Who else
worked for my father?"

"Some
of the teenagers from town. Never the same ones in any week. Every day two or
three would simply show up and do what they were told. They stopped coming
after Darwin's accident. The excuses were all valid: school, planting, harvest,
et cetera. I couldn't understand it—why were they so free before?—but Darwin
seemed to. It was as if everyone knew he was going to die and there was no
point in coming out anymore. In the year he held on, before the last stroke,
everything went downhill. I did what I could, but I didn't know the first thing
about the stud business. And Darwin needed me in the house."

"He
didn't pay you much, did he?" Vic said.

Her
mouth curved. "We didn't need much. Patrick bought and paid for the
trailer before Cal and I arrived. There was no rent and of course no car
payment on my Mustang. What Darwin paid me provided all we needed. I see now
that I should have been more curious about what he did with his money, but at
the time it never occurred to me to ask. I looked at him as a lovable old man
who resisted change and liked to have familiar things around him. I had no idea
there wasn't any money, except for what he left me, until the will was
read."

"Me
either," Vic murmured. Then he tried to smile. "That's just the way
it goes, I guess. Maybe I can get the town to buy my land and we can all get on
with our lives somewhere else."

"I
don't think so," Myra said. "I mean, I don't think the town can
afford it. The wheat harvest hasn't been good this year. They'll be hurting
just like the rest of us. But you could always ask, I suppose."

"Who
would I see?"

"Jinx
Lahr. He's the town busybody and unofficial mayor of sorts."

"I've
met him," Vic said. "I think I'll run over to the diner and talk to
him while you're doing your shopping." Vic had a sudden thought then.
"Hey, today is the fourth. Do they sell any fireworks around here?"

Myra
shook her head. "Town law. If you like, I can buy some ice cream for the
kids. It's not fireworks, but it's a treat."

"That
sounds like a good idea. Nolan would probably have a fit about the fireworks
anyway. Most firemen hate the Fourth of July."

Myra had
no comment. Vic sighed to himself and let up on the accelerator as they neared
Denke. He parked the car in front of the small grocery store and left Myra to
walk across the street to Jinx's diner. He was surprised to see nearly every
stool occupied. The flies were still there, the fan was still humming, and Jinx
was still leaning on the counter. The old man straightened when he saw Vic.

"Afternoon,"
Vic said, and nearly every head turned to view his approach. All were men in
their late fifties or early sixties. Was this a council meeting?

"Afternoon,
Mr. Kimmler," Jinx said. "Come in and let me introduce you to some of
your daddy's friends. Boys, this is Darwin Kimmler's son, Victor."

"Vic,"
Vic said as he reached for the first outstretched hand. The names went by in a
rush: Vogel, Bauer, Stade, Kisner, Hamm, and Nenndorf. After the introductions
he went back to the man named Kisner and stood behind his stool. "I've
been meaning to talk to you, Mr. Kisner. Last night we—"

"Call
me Ed, please," the town lawman asked. His hair was steel gray and his
flesh was a pasty white. Vic could tell the man was a barber—he wore a white
smock and he smelled of hair tonic. His yellowish brown eyes were constantly on
the move, looking first at Vic then back to his companions.

"All
right, Ed," Vic said. "Last night someone set fire to Myra Callahan's
trailer."

"Was
anyone hurt?" Jinx asked.

"No.
Nolan got them out in time. But the interior of the trailer was destroyed and
nearly everything Myra owned along with—"

"Who's
Nolan?" someone down the counter asked.

"Mr.
Kimmler's friend," Jinx answered.

"Oh,
that one."

Vic
frowned. "He thinks someone used a gasoline concoction to start the
fire."

"See
anyone?" Ed Kisner asked.

"What
about Myra and the boy?"

"They
were sleeping. Look, I know there's not much you can do now, but I wanted to
report it. Myra and Cal are going to be moving into the house with me and… Vic
let his voice trail off at the immediate frowns that wrinkled the faces
watching him.

"Ain't
proper," Jinx said finally.

"It's
a damn site more proper than throwing her out with nowhere to go," Vic
replied. Were these guys all religious fanatics or what? He looked back to Ed
Kisner. "I just want you to know that if any more of these so-called acts
of vandalism occur, I'm going to be protecting my property with every means at
my disposal."

"He
means guns," someone said.

"That's
exactly what I mean. Until I move out of that house, all trespassers will be
taking their lives into their own hands when they come on my property. Do you
have any problem with that, Mr. Kisner?"

Kisner
shrugged and looked at Jinx. Jinx picked his purple nose and looked hard at
Vic. "We don't like guns around here."

"I
don't like arson," Vic replied.

"Did
you say you'd be moving out?" a white-haired man asked. Vic couldn't
remember his name.

"That's
what I came to talk about." He looked at Jinx. "I'm going to put the
place up for sale and I thought I'd give the town first crack. I understand you
own the adjacent property."

"Not
me. The town does. How much are you askin'?"

"I
don't know yet," Vic said. "I want to get it appraised. When I know
something I'll get back with you. I just wanted to let you know my plans."

"Well,
that's awful nice of you," Jinx said. "Joe, move over and let Mr.
Kimmler here sit down. How about havin' a nice cold lemonade while you're here?
We can tell you a little about ourselves, and you can tell us what it was like
to be a big-city policeman."

Vic
thought he detected a note of sarcasm, but a moment later he told himself he
must have imagined it as Jinx bustled around behind the counter and fixed him
up with a tall glass of lemonade. The nearest stool was vacated and every man
moved down one to accommodate him. Within seconds a barrage of questions was
fired at him and he sat back to answer, eventually enjoying himself and even
laughing along as the old men cackled at a few of his tamer anecdotes. When
Jinx offered to refill his empty glass, he nodded.