Sintown Chronicles II: Through Bedroom Windows (16 page)

“Fortuitous?"

“Lucky."

Until the California Gold Rush, North Carolina was the nation's principle gold producing state. I am convinced that its resources have not been depleted. I feel certain there is far more gold waiting to be discovered than has been found to date, and some of it is right here in Dot and the surrounding territory. If I were not so old and feeble, I would be out panning for gold in the creeks of Dot every day. As it is, I have managed to find only a few small nuggets in the creek near the Lumbermill.

“Oh, my God,” Greta moaned.

“What is it?"

“When I was cleaning out the spare room there was a little bag of rocks in her desk drawer."

“Where are they?"

“I threw them out. Maggie, I didn't know."

“Did you throw them in a trashcan?"

Greta smiled as she jumped up from the sofa. “No,” she said as she raced from the living room. “I just tossed them out the back door."

Maggie followed and the two women dropped to their knees just outside the kitchen.

“Do you think this is one?” Greta asked as she held up a marble sized stone.

“Well, it certainly sparkles,” Maggie answered.

“Yeah, but I was looking at this thin little streak that looks like gold. It doesn't sparkle, but it does look kind of shiny."

“I don't know,” Maggie said, “but here's another rock just like it. I think we need to read the rest of Miss Jenkins’ notebook."

“Yeah,” Greta agreed as she continued to search for sparkling rocks that contained a shiny yellow streak. “We never did find out what ‘placer gold’ is."

As they returned to the house with a double handful of rocks that might be gold nuggets, Greta asked, “Maggie, do you know where this Reed's Gold Mine is?"

“No, but since Miss Jenkins took so much time to write about it, I'd guess it is not too far from Dot. Let's check the map."

They spread the map out on the kitchen table. Maggie placed her finger on the lower left-hand side of the map. “Here's Charlotte,” she said and then ran her finger to the east. “Here it is—Reed's Gold Mine. It's just a little east of Charlotte."

“Where's Dot?” Greta asked.

“Well,” Maggie said, “it should be just north. There,” she said triumphantly, pointing to a dot on the map.

“That's not far from Reed's Gold Mine is it?"

“I'd guess maybe forty miles."

“Maggie, what do the little gold stars on the map mean, like the one on Reed's Gold Mine and on Dot."

“I don't know. Let's check the legend. Let's see, now. Hmmm. Oh. It's an indication of an old gold mine."

“Hell, Maggie. That means there was once a mine right here in Dot."

“I'm as excited as you are, Greta, but we don't know the first thing about panning for gold."

“We've just read a few pages of the notebook,” Greta said as she headed for the living room. “I just know Miss Jenkins will tell us how to do it.” She stopped abruptly and Maggie bumped into her.

“Sorry, but I just thought of something,” Greta laughed. “Maybe we should go to the Reed Gold Mine, since it's so close. According to the notebook, we can see some real gold nuggets, panning equipment and maybe even try our luck at panning. Surely there would be someone there to teach us how."

“That's not a bad idea, partner."

“Partner? Maggie, are we partners?"

“You don't think I'm going to let you keep all the gold to yourself, do you?” Maggie laughed as she picked up the notebook and resumed reading aloud.

There was a section on equipment needed—a dishpan or a specially made pan with a pocket in the center, a shovel, bucket, some watertight containers like baby food jars and maybe an ice pick. The notebook explained that gold nuggets tumble down streambeds during spring floods. As the floods recede, the gold nuggets, being heavier than other rocks, are the first to settle and can often be found on the downstream side of obstacles like boulders, fallen trees and sharp bends in the creek bed.

Ten pages of the notebook were devoted to the craft of panning—slowly reducing the floating particles in the pan until only gold or gold-bearing rock is left. They learned that the small rocks found outside the back door were, indeed, little nuggets of gold, for gold never sparkles—it shines both in sunlight and shade.

The notebook explained that placer gold is flakes of gold found in streams. It has weathered away from the mother lode and floated downstream. Tracing placer gold back to its source is one way of finding the mother lode and of increasing one's chances of becoming wealthy as a miner.

Greta's dreams of swirling water revealing bits of shiny yellow rock in the bottom of a dishpan were suddenly broken. “Maggie,” she squealed. “I promised Eddie I'd walk to the Dollar place and ask about the job."

Maggie glanced at her watch. “We have plenty of time. It's only noon."

“He gets off at two on Sundays,” Greta fretted.

“Do you have an appointment?"

“No. We ain't got no telephone."

“Church is letting out about now. They'll be in a hurry to get home and have lunch. Tell you what. Let's go to my place and grab a bite to eat. I'll call Sandy from there and see if she will see you this afternoon."

“But what about Eddie?"

“Leave him a note. Tell him you figured Sandra would be in church this morning so you are going to try to see her after lunch."

“Okay. Then I can walk home and be all sweaty when he sees me."

“You'll do no such thing. I'll bring you home. You can tell Eddie I saw you walking and offered you a lift."

Greta smiled like a schoolgirl. “You're good at making up lies, Maggie."

“Thanks, I think."

“While I throw some clothes on, Maggie, pack up all the stuff we found about gold. I want you to keep it at your house. If Eddie found out, he'd want in on the action and would keep everything we make for himself. Don't forget the books in the spare room."

Maggie went to the basement and pushed the box, now missing one three-ring binder, back under the stairwell. She again glanced at the building material and pried open one of twenty square boxes that bore the legend, “Quality Soundproofing Tiles.” Now, why would Eddie want to build a soundproof room, she wondered as she examined one of the thick porous squares.

She located an empty box and brought it with her to the spare room to use in transporting the books on gold mining. As she entered the room, she felt a cold chill.

“Well, hello, Ida,” she laughed. “Pleased to meet you."

“God, we were swamped when church let out,” Eddie complained as he dropped into a chair. “The old man wanted me to stay until the crowd thinned out."

“It's nearly five o'clock, Eddie. I was getting worried about you,” Greta lied.

“Turn around,” he ordered. “Damn, Babe. I didn't mean to beat you that hard. Your ass has turned purple."

“I'm sorry I made you mad, Eddie. I tried to make up for it today, though. I walked all the way to the Dollars place and back in all this heat, just like you wanted. Then I took a quick shower so I wouldn't be all sweaty and stinky in case you wanted me when you got home."

“Maybe later. Right now, I'm beat. Did the Dollar bitch give you the job?"

“I don't think she likes me much. Tim kinda forced her into saying she would let me have it on a trial basis."

“When do you start?"

“I told her I'd let her know."

“You what?” he yelled as he jumped from his chair and grabbed her by the hair.

“Eddie, you're hurting me,” she pleaded as she stared into his glassy eyes.

“I ought to pull your damned hair out by the roots,” he shouted. “You know I wanted you to get that job."

“Eddie, she wants me to work Monday through Friday. I tried to get her to let me work Wednesday through Sunday so we would have two days off together, but she refused. I told her I'd have to talk to you about it."

He released her and sat back down. “Go get me a beer, bitch."

When she returned she knelt in front of him, pulled off his shoes and began to massage his feet. “I'm sorry, honey,” she said as she slipped the sock from his left foot. “I tried.” She held her breath against his foot odor and kissed his toes.

“I need a bath,” he said and she dutifully went to the bathroom and started the water in the Whirl Pool. When he joined her she knelt beside the tub and began to bathe him gently.

He said nothing as she ministered to him, but when she finished bathing his entire body, he asked, “Would it hurt your bottom too much to do your thing?"

“It stung kinda bad when I took my shower, but I'll do it if you want me to.” She straddled him on her knees and soaped her body, just the way he liked. She could go no further, for he did not have an erection. “You
are
tired, Eddie,” she said as she leaned forward and pressed her soapy breasts against his hairy chest.

He put his arms around her and stroked her back gently, an act she seldom experienced. “I'll get it up in a minute,” he said. “I humped that black waitress just before I came home and that fine little ass of hers wrung the snot out of my dick."

That he was having sex with other women was no surprise to Greta, but she shuddered when she thought of the diseases she might catch from him.

“I want you to take the job,” he said.

She forced herself not to smile.

“I want you to get in good with that family. Learn all you can about their habits. Be sure the boy comes to trust you completely. If the bitch wants you to kiss her ass, kiss it. If the husband wants you to blow him, pucker up.” He started laughing.

“What's so funny?"

“I just had a flash of Sandra Dollar's head between your legs and me bursting in with a camera. Boy, wouldn't that be poetic justice! And how about a snapshot of Tim humping you? Man, I'd have them in a hell of a vice then."

He held her face with his hands and pushed her erect. “It may not work, but I know you remember how to get a trick interested in your body. I want you to do all you can to seduce both of them. After I've tormented them with the photos, then I'll snatch the kid."

“You think Mrs. Dollar is a lesbian?"

“Who knows?"

“Eddie, that may take a while. I've never tried to get a woman in bed before."

“Hell, when we talked about snatching Sandra you said you wanted a shot at her. Go for it, Greta. Get out those short skirts and tight blouses you used to wear, and leave off the underwear. Show ’em what you have to offer."

“I'll ... I'll do my best,” she said reluctantly as she felt his penis growing.

“I want you to start working for them tomorrow, Greta—the sooner the better. Get off me, bitch. We need to find a pay phone and let your new boss know you're taking the job."

Greta slid to the end of the tub and rinsed the suds from her body. “Could we go to the Korner Kafe and let Mr. Bennett know I'm taking another job? He ain't gonna be too happy about it."

Eddie struggled out of the tub and reached for a towel. “I warned him,” he said, “but you're right. I don't want to get him too pissed off. I need to keep that job until we have the Dollars’ money in our pockets."

Greta got to her feet, but Eddie stopped her. He reached into the medicine cabinet and handed her a safety razor. “Shave your legs,” he commanded, “from your ankles to your navel."

“You want me to shave my..."

“Yeah,” he interrupted. “It may be a turn-on for one or both of them. Hell, even if it isn't, I think I might like it."

Reluctantly she took the razor from him, sat on the edge of the tub and soaped her left leg. She shaved her pubic hair once before when she was a teenager and painfully nicked her labia. She also remembered that it itched something awful when the hair began to grow out. If he insisted that she keep it shaved, maybe it was time for her to find out how to give herself a bikini wax.

Leora hung up the telephone, reached for a cigarette and remembered. Will I ever get to the point I no longer want a smoke, she wondered? She unwrapped a piece of peppermint candy and popped it into her mouth. It wasn't a cigarette, but it would have to do.

“Well, I have it,” Borders said as he entered the bedroom that also served as Leora's study.

“Have what?"

“My detective's license,” he said as he dropped a folder on her cluttered desk.

“Why do you need a license?” she asked.

“Old lady,” he smiled. “You are the one who wanted me to come out of retirement and work on the Elliott murders. Remember?"

“Yes, but I didn't know you needed a license."

“I don't, really, but I thought I might want to take on other cases on down the road. Besides, the license provides a nice ID,” he continued as he flipped open the folder and pointed. “You can flash that and get through some doors that would otherwise remain closed."

She nodded as she glanced through the rather meaningless sheaf of papers.

“The case has, for all practical purposes, come to a standstill. Since the only suspect was this Crow fellow, the boys put a twenty-four hour a day tail on him for a week. He seems to be squeaky clean. Doesn't do much but work at the Korner Kafe and sleep, it looks like."

“I hear his wife is now working as the housekeeper and nanny for Sandra Dollar."

“Oh? When did that happen?"

“About the same time that Maggie Skinner went to work for the Dollars."

“Yeah. I saw Maggie yesterday as I was coming home from playing golf. She was mowing the lawn and held the boy on her lap. It looked dangerous to me. Isn't the Crow woman a little, well, lacking in the brain department to be a nanny?"

“She doesn't seem to be real bright, but it's none of our business."

Borders nodded and picked up his folder. “You have those preacher pictures spread out again. Did you ever get one of Preacher Baxter?"

“I haven't heard back from the seminary yet, but I have come up with some snapshots.” Leora shifted around some of the clutter on her desk and produced a half dozen photographs.

Borders sifted through them. “All group shots. Which one is Baxter?"

“He's the skinny dark haired guy."

“Have you tried blowing up the photographs?"