Only Flesh and Bones (22 page)
Read Only Flesh and Bones Online
Authors: Sarah Andrews
I spoke quietly, earnestly. “J. C., this is not a laughing matter. You asked me to help your daughter, and I’m finding that I have to look into your wife’s past to do so. Well, her past connects her to Cindey Howard, who has a grudge against her—I say
has,
not
had,
because she’s still pretty het up about something, and she’s trying to draw me into an agenda she isn’t being so kind as to spell out to me. Now you drag me over to her house and there’s a man there who isn’t glad to see me. No big deal, except I saw him at Fred’s office, sneaking down the fire stairs, so I can only suppose he isn’t into any kind of business I’d like to be involved in. He wants to talk to you, but you don’t want to talk to him. Fine, point in your favor, but don’t go around thinking that this doesn’t put me in harm’s way, Joe, because it sure as hell might.”
has,
not
had,
because she’s still pretty het up about something, and she’s trying to draw me into an agenda she isn’t being so kind as to spell out to me. Now you drag me over to her house and there’s a man there who isn’t glad to see me. No big deal, except I saw him at Fred’s office, sneaking down the fire stairs, so I can only suppose he isn’t into any kind of business I’d like to be involved in. He wants to talk to you, but you don’t want to talk to him. Fine, point in your favor, but don’t go around thinking that this doesn’t put me in harm’s way, Joe, because it sure as hell might.”
J. C. Menken brought his hands up out of his pockets. “Joe? You called me Joe!”
“Damn it, listen to me! This isn’t a social meeting; this is—”
Menken’s grin widened. “Sure, I understand.”
I didn’t like the look of that grin. I started walking again, hugging my arms around my chest as if I was cold. We had a quarter mile to go to his house and my truck and a fast retreat to Boulder. I lengthened my stride and began to hustle.
Menken easily matched my stride with his long legs. “I haven’t walked in the moonlight like this in a long time,” he said. “I used to walk with Miriam like this, on summer evenings.”
I would have broken into a run if I hadn’t been afraid of looking foolish. “Fine. Let’s talk about Miriam,” I parried,
adding bluntly, “I’ve been reading her journals. She seemed kind of depressed.”
adding bluntly, “I’ve been reading her journals. She seemed kind of depressed.”
“Miriam?” He tipped his head to one side, considering this thought. “She had her down moments, I suppose, but more of the time, she seemed angry. She had a healthy temper.”
“What do you mean, healthy?”
“I mean she’d yell. Yell and throw things. I’d have to leave the room, and it rather frightened Cecelia when she’d get like that.”
“What?” I stared at Menken, trying to match what he was saying to what I had read, both about him and about what I’d learned about her. Miriam’s journals painted a picture of life with a man so self-involved and inattentive to her feelings that she was half the time ready to brain him. A healthy temper indeed: was this the good old business executive Menken, putting the entrepreneurial positive spin on a bad situation? Or was this the social Menken, being candid with a family friend?
I stopped walking and looked at him again, really studying him this time. There he stood, a man nearing fifty, still upright and physically strong. Relaxed and at ease, he lounged now with his hands again in his pockets, his weight on one hip. His hair was almost fully gone to silver, but it was still thick, even if his hairline lay higher up his forehead than it used to. I could barely see his eyes, lost as they were in the warm gray shadows of the night, but with his face relaxed and contemplative like this, they seemed infinitely softer and more kind than the armored orbs he had always shown on the battlefield of the boardroom. And with his head cocked slightly to one side, his face seemed almost dear.
“Please tell me more about Miriam,” I asked.
“She was everything to me,” he replied simply. “Whenever things got tough at work, I’d think of Miriam and our child waiting for me at home, and I’d happily redouble my efforts, just to keep them safe and cared for.”
My brain skidded off this reckoning of his side of the
story. Hadn’t he ever noticed that redoubling his efforts was keeping him away from home too much? “I … I get the feeling from her journals that she was something of a restless person,” I offered diplomatically.
story. Hadn’t he ever noticed that redoubling his efforts was keeping him away from home too much? “I … I get the feeling from her journals that she was something of a restless person,” I offered diplomatically.
“You’re talking about the time she went away.”
“Yes, and—”
Still looking straight at me, he said, “Miriam was a very interesting woman, Emily; almost a girl still when I first met her, but then, I was hardly more than a boy myself. A woman grows in thirty years, or if she doesn’t … well, one winds up with someone one can hardly call alive. Miriam was very much alive. Vibrantly alive. But sometimes, people that alive are … well, let me say this, Em: she could go off half-cocked.”
And all those years, Miriam had thought this man had been ignoring her. Sadness seeped into my bones. “So you knew.”
“Knew? No one ever really knows another person, even if they live with them all their lives, but yes, I knew she was restless, in a great many ways. Sometimes it was me she couldn’t stand anymore. Sometimes it was Cecelia. They fought, you know. She’d run off to see her parents, or to take a class, or—But after every departure, big or small, she always found her way home again, ready to try again; and for that, I loved her.”
I looked into Menken’s shadowed face, trying to limn greater assurance that we were both talking about the same events. It seemed too rude to look this man in the eyes and say,
I read all about how angry she felt toward you, and about how little she thought of you as a lover, and about the man she preferred
… . So all I said was, “I’m so sorry you lost her.”
I read all about how angry she felt toward you, and about how little she thought of you as a lover, and about the man she preferred
… . So all I said was, “I’m so sorry you lost her.”
“So am I, Emily. So am I.”
I began to feel cold and awkward. It was time to change the subject. “Well, getting back to that man at the Howards’,” I said, beginning to turn back toward the path home.
Menken didn’t move.
I turned back one more time to face him.
He said, “Em, his name is Al Rosenblatt, and he keeps company with men who ought to be in jail. He’s got Fred going on some deal, I think, and they invited me to dinner tonight to try to involve me in it. My answer is no, and you helped me say that tonight. But enough of that.” He closed the distance between us, placed his hands on my shoulders, and kissed me on the lips.
A
N hour later, I sat in Betty Bloom’s kitchen on Baseline Road in Boulder, spilling my guts. It was weakness to tell her anything, but shit, I had to tell
someone.
N hour later, I sat in Betty Bloom’s kitchen on Baseline Road in Boulder, spilling my guts. It was weakness to tell her anything, but shit, I had to tell
someone.
“So he gives you a big wet one, and then you did what?” she was saying as she tried to pump me even further up by serving me the concentrated residue of the day’s coffee.
“Not
wet
, damn it! He’s a … a …
gentleman
!” I pushed the coffee mug away in disgust. Already I was sorry I’d told her anything. How could I even begin to explain what it was like when a control freak like Menken finally shows his tender undersides to someone? It was like being handed a confidence, and here I’d gone and betrayed it to the very next person I had met.
wet
, damn it! He’s a … a …
gentleman
!” I pushed the coffee mug away in disgust. Already I was sorry I’d told her anything. How could I even begin to explain what it was like when a control freak like Menken finally shows his tender undersides to someone? It was like being handed a confidence, and here I’d gone and betrayed it to the very next person I had met.
“So you ran for it.”
“I—” No, I had not run, just walked—very quickly. And Menken had fallen into step beside me, hurrying along with his hands in his pockets, trying to behave like he did this sort of thing every night. I was only too aware that I was probably the first woman he had kissed since his wife had been killed, and if he had been more faithful to her than she had to him, I was his first taste of someone new in twenty-five years. And yes, I was running away; you betcha.
“Then what happened?” Betty demanded. “Come on, you’re dragging this out. He go for another one?”
“No, I got to my truck, and that was it. I drove here. Bam. End of story.” Or something like that. There had been an awkward moment at the truck where he’d looked like he might be on the point of apologizing or something, so I’d quickly said something like, “I’ll call you,” and he’d said—
I couldn’t remember what he’d said. Had I even been so kind as to listen? And when did I become the keeper of the feelings of a man nearly twenty years my senior?
I couldn’t remember what he’d said. Had I even been so kind as to listen? And when did I become the keeper of the feelings of a man nearly twenty years my senior?
“Well, I tell you,” Betty Bloom was saying, “Elyria
told
me about this Menken guy, but she never said he had
that
kind of trick up his sleeve.”
told
me about this Menken guy, but she never said he had
that
kind of trick up his sleeve.”
“You will
not
tell Elyria about this,” I said emphatically.
not
tell Elyria about this,” I said emphatically.
“Oh, so he did get to you. Hmm, a little ‘love among the ruins’ action.”
“Go to hell.”
“Save you a seat by the fire.”
“Please, Betty.”
“Aww …”
“Quit jerking my chain!”
“Quit being a sap.”
I straightened up like I’d been slapped. “Just what in hell you mean by
that
?”
that
?”
“You say this fellah’s hired you to help him help his daughter, because his wife was murdered. Well, either he’s using the daughter and the dead wife routine to get you in bed, or he’s using you to get at whoever he thinks killed her. Either way, he’s playing the sympathy card, which I say stinks on ice.”
I considered her words. That was the trouble with dealing with a rationalist like Menken: just when I thought I had him figured out, he got all complicated on me, and just when I thought he was being complicated, the situation was in fact foolishly simple. The tough part was figuring out which was which.
“I’m going to bed,” I said resignedly. I got up and began to stagger out toward the stairs to my room.
“Sure. Sleep tight, Cinderella. Oh, and you got a couple calls while you were out,” she added. “On your answering machine.” She batted her eyelashes, letting me know what she thought of my contribution to the household’s electronics.
I turned and stared at her.
“Someone named Julia Richards and someone—a very
nice-sounding someone—named Jim Erikson. Oh, and a regular call. Someone who said she worked for the UPS. It’s the Wyoming area code—I looked it up—and she said you could catch her tomorrow morning between eight and eight-fifteen. I told her I didn’t know when you’d be in but that I was certain you’d call back in the morning.” She lifted a slip of lavender-colored notepaper off the counter by the phone and smiled.
nice-sounding someone—named Jim Erikson. Oh, and a regular call. Someone who said she worked for the UPS. It’s the Wyoming area code—I looked it up—and she said you could catch her tomorrow morning between eight and eight-fifteen. I told her I didn’t know when you’d be in but that I was certain you’d call back in the morning.” She lifted a slip of lavender-colored notepaper off the counter by the phone and smiled.
I snatched the slip of paper out of her hand and began to dial. Julia could wait; Jim wouldn’t. He answered on the third ring. “It’s Em,” I said. “What’s the plan?”
Jim’s shy voice was barely audible over the sound of a diesel engine echoing in the tight confines of a garage; he must have forwarded his calls over to the firehouse. “My flight gets in tomorrow at twelve-fifteen. I was wondering if—”
“You need me to fetch you at the airport?” I asked a bit too abruptly. If Betty had leaned any closer to the phone, she would have fallen into my lap.
“No, ah, no … I’m going to rent a car. I was thinking I could see you sometime in the afternoon. I have to talk to my aunt’s lawyers and so forth, and—”
“Sure. Where are their offices? I can meet you there.” As in, Don’t come here; my landlady will leave us no privacy.
Jim gave me an address in Lafayette, a small town not far from Boulder.
“What time’s your appointment?” I asked.
“Two-thirty.”
“Okay, let’s say they take an hour or so. I can be there at four.”
“Fine. And Em—”
“What, Jim?”
“I’m ah—”
“Me, too, Jim,” I said, not the least bit sure what he had been about to say. “Gotta go now. I have a redheaded carnivore here sizing me up for the frying pan.”
“You what?”
“Four o’clock tomorrow.”
“Sure.”
I pushed a forefinger down on the phone button to break the connection and dialed Julia’s number. I caught her just turning in for bed. Without preamble, she said, “I’ve decided that if you’re so interested in those damned journals, you should just come get them. My office, two o’clock tomorrow, and don’t be late.”
“No problem,” I told her, mentally reckoning the time it would take me to drive from Denver to Lafayette. I could make it. I said good night and hung up the phone. And smiled back sweetly at Betty the lioness Bloom. And went to bed.
I dreamt all night about a baleen whale as big as the universe that was trying to kiss me, which seemed all right, except that its kiss sucked me perilously close to its vast filtration system, and I didn’t want to become food.
The next morning, I stumbled down the outside stairs from my room at about 7:30 and found Betty already up, dressed, and setting out what looked like a tea party in the backyard. She had a nice damask tablecloth right down on the ground, and on top of it she had placed a plate of half-chewed doughnuts, a jug of coffee, and her nicest cups and saucers. She began to pour. “What the hell are you doing?” I asked.
Still pouring, she said, “My friends the raccoons got into my car again last night and ate half my doughnuts. I just thought they might like a little coffee with them, you know? Kind of dip them, with their scraggy little pinkies in the air?”
Taking advantage of Betty’s removal to the backyard, I hurried inside and telephoned Sergeant Ortega, who was already in his office. “Al Rosenblatt,” I told him.
“Who?”
“The man who was in Fred Howard’s office when I interviewed. His name is Al Rosenblatt. You know anything about him? He was at dinner at the Howards’ last night.
Menken took me. Something about a deal Menken didn’t want to become involved in.”
Menken took me. Something about a deal Menken didn’t want to become involved in.”
Ortega made a
hmm-hmm-hmm
noise, which meant,
I’m thinking about this.
“You meet me here for lunch, okay?” was all he said.
hmm-hmm-hmm
noise, which meant,
I’m thinking about this.
“You meet me here for lunch, okay?” was all he said.
“Sure, what time?”
“Noon okay?”
“Noon it is.”
Next I dialed Ginger Henley at the UPS in Douglas. “Oh, Em,” she said. “Hey, Laurie here says you wanted to know who’s been shipping sacks of drilling mud in and out of here. I thought that was kind of strange, too, so I talked to the guys who drove them in. They came from Canada.”
“Canada?”
“Yeah, Edmonton. There’s oil up there, isn’t there?”
Canada. I thanked her and put down the phone, wondering why in hell anyone would import drilling mud from Canada when it could be had sixty miles away.
No sooner had I laid the phone to rest in its cradle than it rang again. Betty was still outside, now reciting her ritual curses at the raccoons, so I answered it. “Miss Hansen?” a woman’s voice asked. It was a familiar voice, one I’d heard recently, but I couldn’t place it at first.
“Speaking.”
“Please hold for Mr. Howard.”
“Mr. who?” I began, but I’d been put on hold.
A moment later, Fred Howard’s uncouth voice came over the line. “This Hansen?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, we got a job for you. You report immediately.”
I stared blankly at Stanley, who had a moment earlier ambled in the door, taken a very messy swill of water from his stainless-steel dish, and flopped onto the kitchen floor. Stanley stared back, clearly affronted.
“You there?” said Fred Howard. He sounded anxious.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. Just how soon is immediately?”
“Today. This morning. Your flight leaves this afternoon.”
“Where are you sending me?”
“Africa.”
“Well, I don’t know … .”
“Hey, you sounded so interested,” Fred said boisterously. “And just this morning, y’see, one of our well-site guys had to take this emergency leave.”
I glanced at the black plastic kitty-cat clock on the wall in Betty Bloom’s kitchen, trying to make sense of what I was hearing. The kitty cat’s tail and eyes switched back and forth to tick the seconds away,
ticktock, ticktock.
“Well, Mr. Howard,” I said, idiotically slipping into employee-boss formality, “you got to understand, I don’t even have a passport.”
ticktock, ticktock.
“Well, Mr. Howard,” I said, idiotically slipping into employee-boss formality, “you got to understand, I don’t even have a passport.”
“Right. Right—that’s why we gotta get started early! Got a full day for you.”
“You haven’t even said what you’re going to pay me.”
“Pay you? Oh, of course, of course. Yeah, well, I’ll match whatever Menken was paying you. Plus ten percent. Full housing benefits for overseas duty, of course. And a servant. Food. All that stuff. You’ll make out.”
Tecktock ticktock.
It was 7:50. At ten o’clock, I could be at Boomer Oil to find out what was going on; noon at the Police Department, to assure Carlos Ortega that I was still alive; two at Julia Richards’s office, to get the journal; four in Lafayette. It was going to be a full day. “See you at ten,” I said, and headed for the shower.
It was 7:50. At ten o’clock, I could be at Boomer Oil to find out what was going on; noon at the Police Department, to assure Carlos Ortega that I was still alive; two at Julia Richards’s office, to get the journal; four in Lafayette. It was going to be a full day. “See you at ten,” I said, and headed for the shower.
Fred Howard’s secretary handed me a mound of papers to sign and assigned a “helper” to walk me through the process of getting a passport in a tearing hurry. This “helper” was big and male and shadowed my every move. When he followed me to the bathroom and waited outside while I peed, I decided it was time to terminate my employment with Boomer Oil. I told him I’d need to get a copy of my birth certificate, which was still in storage with a box of important papers in Elyria Kretzmer Finney’s basement. He said he’d drive me over there. I used the hide-a-key to get
in, fumbled around for a minute or so looking through my boxes, then allowed as how I had to use the bathroom again. The upstairs bathroom at Elyria’s house has this neat window that looks like it doesn’t open, but does.
in, fumbled around for a minute or so looking through my boxes, then allowed as how I had to use the bathroom again. The upstairs bathroom at Elyria’s house has this neat window that looks like it doesn’t open, but does.
I’ll wager I was climbing onto the number 32 bus headed back downtown before the big guy figured it out, and I would have a little explaining to do with Elyria if he got mad and tumbled the place before letting himself out, but there you have it. Nevertheless, I was fifteen minutes late for lunch with Sergeant Ortega.
When I got to his office, I found he had company: two men in dark suits, cooling their heels, waiting for me. They goose-stepped me down a hall and sat me in an interrogation room, opened a folder, turned on the recording machines, and showed me a black-and-white glossy of Al Rosenblatt, a grainy candid blown up from a negative that had held a much larger image. “That him?” one of them said.
“Yes, that’s him.” There was no doubt; I’d know those needle eyes anywhere.
One of the suits slapped the folder shut. The other walked me through the story of where I’d seen him and what he’d been doing. “Now you tell me why you want to know,” I said when I was done spilling what paltry little information I had.
Ortega closed his eyes and shook his head, a barely perceptible jiggle: the gesture said, Don’t ask. Let it drop.
I sighed. “Well, if it’s so hush-hush, Carlos, then you’ll probably also want to know that Fred Howard phoned me up this morning first thing and offered me a job.”
The suits rotated their heads toward me with an audible
click.
click.
“Starting immediately,” I said. “In fact, that’s why I was late. He’s goosing me through a passport application so I can be on a plane for Africa this afternoon, complete with heavy-weight escort.”
“Don’t go,” Ortega said.
“I have no intention of going,” I answered. “You think
I’m nuts? I’m sure West Africa is lovely to visit this time of year, but there’s nothing wrong with my nose. I know rotten fish when I smell it.” Okay, so I’d allowed myself the fantasy during the hour it had taken me to drive into Denver and park the truck. I would have loved to go to Africa; it was just that I also wanted to make sure I came home again, and in good shape. I would have been more stupid than naive if I had deluded myself that there weren’t at least twenty men on Fred Howard’s Rolodex he would have called before me if his offer had been legitimate. No, it was clear that Fred Howard simply wanted me out of town.
Way
out of town. I had simply played along to see what I could learn, and to see if I could get a free passport.
I’m nuts? I’m sure West Africa is lovely to visit this time of year, but there’s nothing wrong with my nose. I know rotten fish when I smell it.” Okay, so I’d allowed myself the fantasy during the hour it had taken me to drive into Denver and park the truck. I would have loved to go to Africa; it was just that I also wanted to make sure I came home again, and in good shape. I would have been more stupid than naive if I had deluded myself that there weren’t at least twenty men on Fred Howard’s Rolodex he would have called before me if his offer had been legitimate. No, it was clear that Fred Howard simply wanted me out of town.
Way
out of town. I had simply played along to see what I could learn, and to see if I could get a free passport.
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