Dark Moon Crossing (13 page)

Choking back ragged sobs, I scrambled from the car
and knelt down beside the motionless cat, positive that I’d snuffed out an
innocent life. Blood oozed from its little pink nose and there was a jagged
cut behind one ear where it had probably hit the edge of my bumper. “Oh,
kitty, I’m so sorry.” I placed a finger on its neck feeling for a pulse. Was
that a faint heartbeat or my own trembling hand?‌

Lupe arrived at my side, crying, “What happened?‌ Oh,
my God! Did you kill it?‌”

“I don’t know,” I said, stroking the dust-covered fur
while trying to swallow around the knot of remorse clogging my throat. “I…I
tried to stop, but it was too late.”

“It wasn’t your fault, lady,” said a raspy voice from
behind. Turning, I stared up into the concerned brown eyes of a gray-bearded
stranger. Two younger men wearing Levis and soiled T-shirts walked up and
stood beside him as he doffed a ragged hat in my direction before placing it
over his heart. “Say a prayer, gentlemen. It looks like the last of the little
feller’s nine lives has run out.” He cocked his shaggy head at me. “I can get
some newspaper to wrap him up in, if you like.”

Guilt and anger burning a hole in my chest, I turned
my attention back to the cat. It twitched a couple of times, blinked, and then
was still again. It took a mighty effort not to burst into tears. I pressed
fingers to my temples and pulled in a few deep breaths. “Just…let’s just wait
a minute. I don’t think it’s dead, but I need someone to help me.” I looked
up at the men. “Is there an animal hospital around here?‌”

“Nope,” answered one of the younger men. “The closest
one is in Green Valley, but hey, Matt,” he said, knuckling his companion on the
shoulder, “Payton’s in there having breakfast. Go get him. He’ll probably
know what to do.”

A tiny spark of hope flared inside me as I watched the
third man lope across the street and disappear inside La Gitana. “Who’s
Payton?‌” I asked, rising to my feet and trading a hopeful glance with Lupe, who
looked every bit as distraught as I felt.

“Payton Kleinwort. I think he used to be a veterinary
assistant or some such thing,” the bearded man replied, finger-combing his
shoulder-length hair behind his ears before replacing his hat. “Nice fella.”

A moment later, the front door of the café flew open
and a slender man wearing khaki shorts, a long-sleeved shirt and hiking boots
trotted towards us with Matt following close behind. Without saying a word to
any of us, he knelt to examine the cat. Breathless, I waited in agony for his
verdict. What ironic timing. Two days ago I’d voiced the desire to adopt a
cat of my own and instead, I’d probably ended up killing one.

“Is it alive?‌” Lupe asked, placing a comforting hand
on my arm.

“Yes, but this little critter needs professional
medical attention right away. What exactly happened?‌” His expression grave,
he pushed his steel-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his narrow nose. The trace
of condemnation in his sage-green eyes nudged my guilt thermometer several
degrees higher. I repeated the incident with Lupe chiming in her version from
the sidelines. “Whoever this guy is, he ought to be locked up,” I said through
gritted teeth. “He’s a complete psychopath.” The knowing look circling among
the four men prompted me to dryly observe, “So, I gather you all know who he
is.”

Payton
Kleinwort rose to his feet, brushing the dirt from his knees. “Everybody knows
Jason Beaumont.”

I
gawked. “Beaumont?‌ Of the Sundog Ranch?‌”

A
look of appraisal flickered in his eyes as he nodded. “One and the same. But,
he’s really not a bad kid, just mischievous sometimes.” His sheepish
expression suggested there was a lot more to tell, but I wasn’t in the mood to
listen to anyone defend him. “Mischievous, my foot. He’s a sadistic bully.
We’ve had two run-ins with him and his buddies in less than twenty-four hours.
I think he should be reported to the authorities for harassment and reckless
driving at the very least, which I think I’ll do when I get to Green Valley.”

The
older man shook his head slowly. “It wouldn’t do you any good, my dear.
Champ’ll get the kid off the hook just the same as every other time.”

I
really did want to hear more about the people Tally had been visiting these
past few months, but the injured cat took precedence. “Lupe, help me get this
poor little thing into my car.”

“Now?‌
What about our meeting with the…the UFO lady?‌”

Darn.
My warning look was rewarded by her blank stare. My intention had been to not
publicize our get-together, but I’d neglected to inform her of that fact. Oh,
well, too late. “This can’t wait. I’m going to take it to Green Valley. You
go on ….”

“Whoa,
whoa, whoa,” Payton cut in. “It won’t be necessary for you to inconvenience
yourself. I was on my way over to the Sundog this morning anyway to visit my
son, so I’ll take the cat with me and you can come check on it later.”

I’m
sure I looked utterly baffled. “That’s really kind of you, but what…I mean
why…?‌”

“At
one time, Payton here used to be a member of the high and mighty Beaumont
clan,” the bearded guy informed us, underscoring his statement with a
conspiratorial wink I didn’t understand.

“Until
he got his ass good and kicked,” added the second young man, smirking just a
bit as he jabbed his friend Matt in the ribs. For the first time I took note
of their appearance. Both had shaved heads and sported tattoos on each arm. I
wondered if they’d been at yesterday’s rally.

“I don’t know if I’d have had the patience to put up
with the raft of crap you did for as long as you did,” the older fellow tacked
on with a sad shake of his head.

“Well, Joe, given enough time, things have a way of
evening themselves out.” Payton’s indulgent smile belied the sheen of
irritation in his eyes, but when he turned back to me his tone was almost
apologetic. “Once upon a time, I was married to Champ Beaumont’s daughter,
so.…”

Oh,
my. My frazzled brain finally re-engaged. “I see. Jason Beaumont is your
brother-in-law.”

“No,”
he said, kneeling to cradle the cat to his chest. “Former brother-in-law.”

For the first time I noticed the cluster of freckles
on his bare arms and that his receding carrot-red hair was almost the same
shade as my own. He rose and headed across the street towards a bronze pickup
with a camper shell, so I hurried to keep step with him amid the flurry of
scornful remarks peppering the air behind us.

“Hey, miss!” shouted Matt. “Maybe that space lady can
contact one of her flyin’ saucer buddies to send one of them aliens down to
doctor up the cat. You know, perform one of them miracle cures.”

“Yeah,” his friend chimed in, “maybe she could talk
one of ‘em into doing that mind meld thing and save you a trip to the vet!” A
bawdy chorus of laughter followed.

Payton edged me a look of chagrin. “Don’t pay any
attention to them. They’re just having a little fun with you.”

My concern for the cat kept me from appreciating the
situation. “Sorry, I’m still a little fuzzy from all that’s happened. I still
don’t understand why you’re taking the cat to the Beaumont ranch?‌”

“Open, please,” he said, indicating the passenger
door. I did and he gently laid the limp cat on the seat, adding, “My mother…I
mean my ex-mother-in-law’s brother, Dean Pierce, lives at the ranch now. He
retired from veterinary medicine about six months ago, and just so you’ll
know,” he said lifting the cat’s tail and peering closely, “this is a little
female. By her size I’d guess she’s five or six months old.”

“She’s
just a baby. Well, I can’t begin to thank you enough for your help,
interrupting your breakfast and everything.”

“No
problem. You’re obviously an animal lover like me.”

I
followed him around to the driver’s side. “Do you think she’ll be okay?‌” I
asked as he pulled on the handle. “The last thing I need is to have this
kitten’s death on my conscience.”

He
glanced over at the limp feline before turning back to me with an encouraging
smile that changed the whole complexion of his rather bland face. “I can’t
guarantee anything, but trust me when I say this kitty will be well cared for.”

“By
the way, I’m Kendall O’Dell from Castle Valley.” I stuck out my hand and he
enfolded it in his own. “Glad to meet you, Kendall O’Dell from Castle Valley.
What brings you to this area?‌”

“I’m
a reporter.”

He
tilted his head to one side, looking faintly amused. “If you’re looking for
excitement, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”

“Oh,
I don’t know. Yesterday was pretty exciting.”

He
climbed into his truck and started the engine. “You mean the rally?‌ Well,
thank goodness it’s over and we can get back to our normal peace and quiet.
But, I expect that’s not what you want to hear.”

“I
was thinking maybe I’d stick around a few days to see if anything else
interesting develops.”

A
meager smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. “Considering your choice of
breakfast companions, I gather you’ll be focusing on the search for possible
alien life forms.”

I
ignored his mild disdain. “Who knows, maybe I’ll get lucky.”

“Don’t
hold your breath,” he said with a wry grin. “The most stimulating thing that’s
happened in this town in the last two years was the big bash hosted by my
beloved ex-wife last summer to celebrate our divorce.” He backed into the
street.

Not sure how to respond to that, I shouted, “Hey, wait
a minute. How do I find the Sundog?‌”

“It’s
impossible to miss. Anyone in town can tell you,” he yelled, gunning the truck
down the road to Sasabe.

As
I watched him speed away towards rocky foothills crowned with misty-blue
clouds, I sent up a silent prayer. Just knowing the injured kitten would soon
be in good hands soothed my shattered nerves. Considering the number of weirdos
we’d come in contact with since our arrival, we were lucky the benevolent
stranger had offered to help.

“Angels
come in all shapes and sizes, don’t they?‌” Lupe remarked, walking up beside me.

I
grinned at her. “I don’t know as I’d go that far, but he certainly qualifies
as a Good Samaritan.”

“Some
things aren’t easy to explain away,” said a husky female voice from behind.

We
swung around to face a statuesque woman clad in a garnet-colored ankle-length
dress accessorized with an impressive silver concha belt. Straight blue-black
hair framing her hollow cheeks partially obscured a mysterious smile that urged
me to challenge her statement. “Mazzie La Casse?‌”

A
nod. “And which one of you is Miss O’Riley?‌”

I
raised a hand in greeting. “It’s O’Dell.” I was struck by the candid
intensity emanating from her dark eyes, and it chased away my preconceived
notion of a wild-eyed eccentric.

After
I introduced Lupe, we walked the few remaining yards to the restaurant’s
weather-beaten front door past a sign announcing:
Welcome to the oldest bar
in the oldest continuously inhabited townsite in Arizona.
A tiny notice in
the window brought a smile to my lips. OPEN WHEN WE’RE HERE, CLOSED WHEN WE’RE
NOT. The screen door whined loudly as we followed her inside. The place was
small, warm and crowded, but the appetizing aroma of frying bacon helped revive
my stress-dulled appetite. The noisy buzz of conversation dropped to a low
murmur as we drew the curious stares of the locals, most of them seniors. Ah
yes. The only eating spot in town would be gossip central¾a good thing normally. However, it was disappointing to realize that
the small dining area had no quiet alcove or out of the way booth. “Is there
another room where we can talk privately?‌” I whispered to Mazzie.

She
hooked a thumb beneath the strap of her large shoulder bag and shrugged. “They
could serve us in the bar, but I’m not sure it would be any better.”

“Okay,
this will have to do,” I said, noting the apprehension in Lupe’s momentary
glance. We chose the only remaining clean table, near the kitchen entrance.
While a young, gum-chewing waitress in overly tight jeans sloshed coffee into
our cups, we reviewed the sticky one-sided menu. Apparently the novelty of our
arrival had diminished somewhat because only a handful of inquisitive stares
from the surrounding tables continued to come our way. Normally, I would have
used my little tape recorder for the interview, but I knew the noise level of
the room would make it difficult to decipher later.

“I’d
like to take some notes,” I said, watching Mazzie stir cream and sugar into her
coffee before taking a tentative sip.

“That’s
fine,” she said, folding her hands around the cup. “But before we begin, I’d
like to be frank about a few things. If you’re seeking information for a
feature article concerning the subject of UFO sightings, alien abduction or the
witness experience, I can help you. If you’re looking for tabloid
sensationalism, or if your questions are designed to try to discredit my work
here, I’ll conclude our interview.”

Clearly
she was in no mood for ridicule and I wondered if she’d overheard the remarks
made earlier by the group of men in the street. “Actually, my questions to you
pertain to a personal matter, so….” I paused to make eye contact with three
seniors at the adjoining table practically falling off their chairs
eavesdropping. When they averted their eyes, I said softly, “Perhaps we can
just start with some general background information until we can find someplace
more private to talk.”

I
noted, as her probing gaze darted back and forth between us, that her eyes were
such a deep shade of mahogany it was difficult to see her pupils. “There’s a
little picnic table out back. Perhaps when we’re through eating and,” she
paused and glanced outside at the soggy-looking clouds, “if it’s not raining,
we could talk there.”