Dark Places (31 page)

Chapter Ninety-one

Cody and John waited in the hallway for Marty to finish writing his confession. Hat tilted back on his head, Cody lipped a Camel from the wrinkled pack and lit it with his Zippo. “What in hell was that all about in there?”

“I don't know. He knows a lot more about there goings on than he's letting on.”

“Yeah, and I want to know what it is.”

“Why'n't you ask him, then?”

“Because he'll clam up. I wanted to get his confession down, and then we'll talk about Leland.”

“You think he ran him down?”

“Might have. Somebody drove that old truck into Leland, and I'm wondering if it was Freddy or John T. Freddy, most likely, because he thinks so much of his mama.”

LaNette, Cody's secretary stuck her head out the door and gave him the same giggle they'd heard from behind the closed door. “I thought I heard you out here. Cody, phone.”

“I'll call them back.”

“It's a deputy sheriff down in Harris County. He's really wanting Anna, and it's not my place to tell him what happened. He says he has some information she wanted him to find. He thinks it's important enough to tell you if she's not here.”

Leaving John outside the door, Cody went into his office. He punched the blinking light on the phone. “Sheriff Parker.”

“Howdy, sheriff. This is Burt Stevens down in Houston. I got a call from Anna requesting some information. Your secretary says she won't be back for a while, but she wouldn't tell me why, and it's too important to wait.”

Taking a deep breath, Cody told him about the ambush, and condition. “She's a lot better today, and the doctor here says she's gonna pull through.”

“That's a damn shame. I'll pass the word to the boys around here. They'll take up a collection and send it your way to help pay her medical bills.”

“She'll appreciate it, and we will too. We're doing the same thing.”

“'Course you are. Now, here's the information she asked for. She called about one deceased, Leland Hale. Said she's trying to track something down that's bothering her, but I couldn't find out a thing about the man, other than he lives in your county and paid his taxes on time. Sounded like a good man.”

“He was.”

“After that, I checked on the other two names she gave me. Melva Hale and Marty Smallwood. Marty came up clean.”

Cody chuckled. “He might have been, but he's here in my jail right now, writing a confession for the murder of two men, and maybe for Leland Hale if we can convince him to confess.”

“Well, I'll be damned. Ain't that something. From nothing to a murderer. The apple don't fall far from the tree. Now, you got something else on your hands you need to know about.”

“And that is?”

“Melva Hale.”

“She's here too.”

“You're kidding.”

“Nope. We have her in custody for hiding Marty and getting in the way while I was trying to arrest him.”

“Well, keep her there. She's the worst of the bunch.”

“That old woman?”

“She's been wanted for a long time, under a different name. Listen to this. I ran down information that led me to New Boston. That's not far from y'all, is it?”

“Hour and a half as the crow flies, couple of hours on the highway.”

“Well, she moved around quite a bit when she was younger. Melva's from Pea Valley, Arkansas. She's had six husbands all together, that I know of, and half a dozen kids. Two daughters died of food poisoning when they were…” A paper rattled “…six and eight. They suspected her of killing them, but they'd been buried for so long when the laws got around to questioning her, it was too late.”

Cody recalled their conversation. “Did her old man take a baby and leave?”

“Sure did. Henry Clay's somewhere in Kansas, and I haven't been able to run him down yet, but I will. When her two sisters died under strange circumstances not long after, the sheriff up there got suspicious and went out to talk to her about it. They say she went crazy, carrying on so that they had to put her in a home in Little Rock for a while. Son, they let that woman out and she went right back up there. She wasn't back a week and Henry Clay's mama was found dead, drowned in a cistern. They started asking Melva a lot of questions and she cleared out one night and no one ever heard of where she went.”

“I can't believe that old woman is a murderer.”

“She disappeared until Marty was born in Texarkana. I reckon that's the one you got locked up there. She might have changed her name during that time, but who knows. So in the long run, I have her under suspicion of murdering two children, her two sisters, maybe even her mother and a mother-in-law.”

“Well, I'll be damned. I might have her for the murder of a baby, too, and she's already in my jail. Send all that up here to me, but I'm gonna have a talk with her.”

“I'm bringing it personal. I need to see that woman for myself, and I want to see Anna, too. I'll bring her money with me tomorrow.”

They said goodbye. Thinking, Cody hung up and called the largest insurance company in Chisum, William Carroll Insurance. The secretary put him right through to Alvin Jones. Cody explained as briefly as possible why he was calling. “What I need to know is if Melva Hale had an insurance policy on Leland.”

“I have it right here on my desk. Your deputy Anna Sloan asked the same thing a day or so ago. Mrs. Hale has a hundred thousand-dollar policy on Leland. We haven't paid off as of yet, of course. It's too early.”

“That's what I needed. Put a hold on it until you hear back from me.”

“Will do, Sheriff.”

His next call was to the sheriff in New Boston. After another lengthy explanation, Cody got to the point. “Did you have any unexplained deaths in your area that included a woman named Melva?”

“What was her last name?”

“Depends. This old gal said ‘I do' more times than you can shake a stick at. The best name I have here is Leland Hale.”

“Oh, I know who you're talking about. That was Melva Winneford. She lived with Eugene Florentine for a while, and yeah, there were rumors that when Eugene died of heart failure, she might have had something to do with it.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Eugene was strong as a horse and then one day he started going downhill fast. The doctor here at the time, he's dead now, suspected some kind of poisoning, but the family wouldn't let him do an autopsy. Melva got Eugene in the ground quick. Not even a decent casket. Buried him a box made out of wooden orange crates. Said she didn't have the money for anything else. Well, she come into some not long after that and moved off.”

Stunned at the revelation, Cody stared out the window at the gray skies that finally showed signs of thinning. “Thanks, Sheriff. I'll get back to you soon.”

“You bet. Let me know what you find out.”

Chapter Ninety-two

James wasn't sure they were going to find the one-story hospital in Kingman before they lost Ned. It was a long drive across the desert. They had to stop half a dozen times for the old constable to be sick. By the time they pulled up at the emergency room doors, he was waxy and ghost pale.

Cale jumped out before the car was completely stopped and dashed inside. A ragged, underfed Indian woman suddenly appeared beside the car, reeking of armpit and whiskey. “My name is Betty, and he needs a blessing.”

Crow started to hold her back, and then recognized the dim eyes of a lost healer. “Go ahead, Mother.”

He stepped away as she reached through the open door and rested her palm on Ned's chest. Closing her eyes, she began to pray in what Crow took to be Navajo.

“
Diyin ayóí átʼéii
.”

Ned's eyes opened and he squinted at the woman. “Tom? Tom Bell?”

“His feet, my feet, restore.”

“Tom, we need you.”

“His limbs, my limbs, restore.”

“We thought you was dead.”

She repeated the lines in Navajo. “His body, my body, restore. His mind, my mind, restore. His voice, my voice, restore.”

“Tom, we need to find Pepper.”

“With pollen beautiful in his voice, with pollen beautiful in my voice.”

“She's what? Pepper's found?”

Betty shook her head and clenched her eyes. “It is finished in beauty. It is finished in beauty. In the house of every light. From the story made of evening light. On the trail of evening light.”

Ned relaxed, and for the first time in hours, he was peaceful. For a moment James thought he was dead, and then he saw Ned's eyes flutter. “Good, Tom. We owe you again.”

“
Diyin ayóí átʼéii
.”

A young nurse appeared. “Is Betty bothering you?”

“No. Funny name for an Indian, though.” James had never heard Navajo, but he liked the rhythm.

“Don't know why. Mine's Linda.”

“What's she saying?”

“It's the Navajo healing prayer. Betty drifted this way from the Navajo rez a year or so ago. Said she needed to be here to meet someone.”

An older nurse arrived and cut Linda off. “Linda, what are you waiting for? You men get him out of there now. Get that old drunk out of the way.”

Crow pushed past Betty, interrupting her prayers and grabbed Ned's feet as James took him under the arms. They pulled him out of the backseat, limp as a dishrag.

Two more nurses rushed through the doors with a gurney. “What's the matter with him?”

“I don't know. Keeps saying it's his stomach. He got shot there a few months back.”

The older nurse, Harriett, pointed. “Why is he wearing a gun?”

“He's a lawman.”

“Well, we don't need it in here. Take it with his badge.” She saw Cale's black eyes. “What happened to
him
?”

James plucked the revolver from the holster as the nurse ripped Ned's shirt when she yanked the badge off. “Got crossways with some guys tougher than he was.”

“I'm fine.” Cale unconsciously touched his face. “I've been taking care of Mr. Ned. Is he going to be all right?”

Harriet studied the boy for another long moment and her expression softened. “I bet you did a good job. C'mon on in and we'll take care of him together.”

Betty stepped forward and rubbed Ned's forehead with her thumb, singing softly. “
Hodiyin t'ée'go so' bee da'dinídíingo, Áko Yisdá'iiníiii bi'dizhchí.
”

“Move!” Irritated, Harriet shoved between and elbowed Betty out of the way. “Let's go!”

In seconds, they disappeared into the hospital. James pitched the pistol into the seat beside the shotgun that still rode muzzle down in the floorboard. Without a word, he followed them inside. Taking a long moment to consider Crow and Tammy, Cale went inside, too. He wasn't as worried about Ned as he had been, but he still wanted to keep an eye on him.

Crow watched Betty, her arm outstretched, releasing something invisible into the breeze.

Linda hesitated, remembering her childhood on the nearby Hualapai Reservation. “She's a healer. She prayed for him. He'll be all right.”

“I knew someone like her, once. What was that last part? She was singing it, and it sounded familiar.”

Linda smiled, revealing a set of deep dimples. “It was ‘O Holy Night.'”

“The Christmas carol?”

“Yep. Gotta go.” She disappeared into the hospital.

The rumble of a Harley filled the nearby parking lot as Rocky rolled to a stop. He killed the engine and joined them. “The old man dead?”

Brow furrowed, Crow pondered the closed door. “He was still alive when they rolled him inside.”

“Well, we've done our due. What now?”

Tammy shrugged. “We don't have a car, unless you want to take that one.” She pointed at the Bel Air.

Crow shook his head, realizing for the first time how strange he felt without his long hair. “Nope. They've been through enough. Rocky, how far is the bus station?”

“It ain't a station, it's a stop. You can barely see it down there.”

“Then we'll walk. What about you?”

He shrugged. “I've had enough of California and Arizona. I'll head back the way we came, to Vegas, and check that place out.”

Crow grinned. “You're going to see Mel Torme, aren't you?”

His secret pleasure revealed, Rocky nodded. “How about y'all?”

Tammy brightened. “Florida.”

“Florida!” Crow crossed his arms. “What in hell for?”

“I want to see a white sand beach.” She made a pouty face. “Please, baby? Take me to the beach.”

“How do you think we're gonna pay for that?”

She pulled a wad of bills from a jean pocket. She counted them as they watched. “Six one hundred-dollar bills.”

Crow stood hipshot and stared at the cash. “How you come to have that?”

“There's a lot of money in LSD. I kept it for Red because he'd spend it all on liquor and grass.”

“He didn't know you very well, did he?”

“I'm glad you got there, now. I'd had enough of bikes and the desert, too.”

“You're not leaving me again, are you baby?”

“No. I'm here to stay.”

Crow hugged Rocky. “Thanks, Brother. Call Mama and check in so I'll know where to find you.”

“You do the same.”

Without a backward glance, Crow twined his fingers with Tammy's and they left to catch the next bus.

Rocky watched them for a moment, then twisted the key behind his leg and put his boot on the starter. The engine rumbled to life on the first push and he sat there, idling, wondering when Crow's girlfriend would leave him again for the next man, or the next adventure. It wouldn't be long, that's for sure.

Crow had been chasing after her since high school. He never could get it through his head that she was no good. Rocky knew the next time she left and Crow called, he'd quit what he was doing and go.

That's what brothers do.

Betty watched them go with one last prayer.
“Akóó níláahdi naníchʼį́įdii biiʼ hodéezyéél.”

Go find peace.

She walked the opposite direction, singing “O Holy Night,” in Navajo.