The Body of Martin Aguilera (10 page)

She just looked at him.

“Evolution hasn't done us any favors is what I'm trying to say.”

“I wish you had talked to me about it first,” Laura said.

Lewis blew out a sigh. Quite a reasonable request, he thought. He felt guilty. “You're right, honey. I handled that badly. I should have talked to you first. I'm sorry.”

The child's eyes stayed on his.

“You know how much I love you, don't you? I wouldn't do anything in the world to hurt you.”

“I know, Papa.”

He pulled her forward and hugged her. “What do you say I tell you a story?”

“A horse story.”

“A horse story.” Lewis thought, looking out the window. “Okay, here goes. Once in a land far away, there lived a very special horse, a beautiful black mare with white stockings. Only three people had ever actually seen the horse and they had long died. Legend had it that the horse never aged and would always stay strong. They called the horse Phyllis.”

“Phyllis?”

“I can't help it, that's what they called her. One day, a very warm day, a little girl named Tilly went walking through the woods. She went farther than she had ever gone before and farther than she was supposed to. And you know what else?”

“She didn't tell anybody where she was going.”

“That's right. Have I told you this story?”

“No.”

“Well, Tilly, of course, got hopelessly lost. She sat on a stump and started to cry. She was a loud crier and her sobs filled the forest. Birds and squirrels came to see what could make such a noise.” Lewis looked at his granddaughter's eyes, weak from crying themselves. “The animals huddled together and tried to come up with a plan. ‘We're too small to carry her,' the squirrels said. ‘She's too heavy for us,' said the birds. They decided that the bear would scare her and that if they got the lion, he would eat her.” Laura was drifting off. ‘“What about Phyllis?'a chipmunk asked. They all agreed. Phyllis came and the girl climbed on. They walked for a very long way, through rain and bad winds.” Laura was asleep. Lewis stood, still talking, and switched off the light. As he closed the door, he whispered to himself, “But they never found their way home. Together they were hopelessly lost.”

He walked into the kitchen and caught Maggie eating a cookie. He said, “And of course they starved to death.”

“There're more cookies,” Maggie said.

Chapter Eighteen

Lewis didn't get much sleep. He spent most of the night out of the bed, sitting in the chair by the window. He watched the horses standing, finally at ease. His head hurt. His muscles ached. He was dead tired, but he couldn't sleep. Maggie watched him much of the time from the bed. She asked him once to come to bed, but he didn't answer.

Maggie came up behind Lewis in the chair and rubbed his neck. “I love you, Lewis.”

He reached up and took her hands, held them under his chin. “You must. I love you, too.”

Morning came and Lewis decided that Maggie should drive Laura to the airport in Albuquerque. He didn't think whoever it was that had tried to run him off the road would look for Maggie's truck. The small truck also had bucket seats, which meant that only two could ride and he didn't want to leave Maggie alone. He did wonder if he was just avoiding the awkward time with Laura and decided that of course he was, but that didn't make the other considerations less real.

Maggie was behind the wheel. Laura was standing at the open car door, saying goodbye to Lewis.

He got down on a knee. “You call me when you get there, okay?”

She nodded.

“Are you all right?”

She hugged him tightly about the neck and he hugged back. He wanted to never let go.

“I love you so much,” he said.

“I love you, Papa.”

Lewis fought back tears and held her in front of him. “I hope you understand. We'll see each other soon. You can count on that. Okay, young lady, you have a plane to catch. In you go.” He helped her into the truck, closed her door and walked to Maggie's side. “You take it easy.”

“Speed limit all the way.”

“On the way back, too,” he said.

She nodded.

He leaned in and kissed her. He stepped back and waved as they drove off.

He went back into the house and took his shotgun out of the back of the closet. It's come to this, he thought. He hoped he was over-reacting. He looked at the clock. Seven-thirty. That meant it was nine-thirty in the east. He picked up the phone and called a friend at Bennington.

“Hello, Mark, this is Lewis…I'm fine…How about you?…And Sylvia…Good, good…Listen, I was calling to see if you'd do me a favor…Shouldn't be too much trouble. Would you check with the registrar and find out if a Donna Peabody is enrolled…That's right, Donna Peabody…And you'll call me back collect, okay?…That's all. Thanks.” Lewis hung up and cleaned his gun.

An hour later, Lewis' friend Mark called. Lewis learned that there was no Donna Peabody enrolled at Bennington.

Peabody. It was after Lewis had dropped him off that the van showed up. And that wound in the mare's frog. Peabody could have cut her with his knife. After all, Lewis hadn't seen the horse limping before.

Lewis took the shotgun and held it in his lap as he sat in the rocker in the living room. He looked around the room. Sitting armed in my own house, he thought. He never would have believed it. Who was Peabody? What did he want? Maybe he was just lying about his kid because she was a junkie or something and was ashamed of her. Maybe the mare really did pick up a stone. And then again, maybe Peabody didn't want them going farther down into the canyon.

At noon, Maggie called to say that Laura had gotten on the plane.

“You're coming home now?” Lewis asked.

“Yeah. Are you doing all right?”

“Yep. How was Laura?”

“Okay.” Maggie sounded unsure. “Her feelings were hurt, but I don't think she knows what's going on.”

“At least something's working out right.”

“Do you need me to pick up anything on my way home?”

“Not that I can think of. Please, be careful. I'm fine, so don't hurry. Don't use me as an excuse to drive the way you normally do.”

“Funny man.”

“See you when you get here.”

“That's one of those stupid things that people say,” Maggie said. “Of course you'll see me when I get there.” She laughed. “Just giving you a sample of what you're getting.”

“Bye.”

Lewis took the shotgun and went out into the yard. He pointed it at trees and at the shed and at his car. The thing felt heavier than he had ever remembered. He sat down on the chopping block and looked at the plateau below. When he was a boy he would go hunting with his father and uncle. He'd never liked the noise and after he got his first kill, a fat mallard, he always tried to miss. He could put up with the teasing about his eyes, but not with the dead animal, eyes open, looking back at him as his father held it high. But still he went. Even though given a choice, he went.

“Why do you keep going?” his wife had asked, for he continued to attend the rituals as an adult.

He didn't have an answer for her. It was the killing, though. It was the killing that kept him going back out there. He couldn't do it, but he wanted to see it.

Chapter Nineteen

Maggie was overdue. Lewis looked at his watch. It had been only three minutes since his last glance. It was five-thirty-seven. If Maggie had left Albuquerque as late as one-thirty, she was still overdue. He considered that she might have stopped to shop, though it seemed unlikely. Perhaps there had been yet another mass escape from the state prison in Santa Fe and she was being delayed by road blocks. He switched on the radio and found a station with news. The woman giving the report talked about a young boy's body being found floating in a ditch, then a story on the building water in the Elephant Butte and Cochiti dams. No jail break. He watched out the window and listened. Maybe she'd had car trouble. She would have called. He switched off the radio and went to the phone in the kitchen. He called the state police and asked if there had been any accidents reported involving a maroon Mazda pickup. A woman told him there had not been any such accident. He thanked her and hung up. He was sure that if he left the house the phone would ring and it would be Maggie needing help, but he felt an urge to leave and search for her. He reached for the receiver again, this time dialing the sheriff's number which was written on the pad in front of him.

“May I speak to Sheriff Mondragon?”

“Who's calling?”

“Lewis Mason. Tell him it's important. Please.”

He was put on hold.

“Prof?” It was Manny.

“Manny, I need your help. At least, I think I need your help. You know Maggie Okada.”

“Yes.”

“Well, she drove my granddaughter to the airport in Albuquerque and left there at noon or so and she's not back yet.”

“Probably stopped to shop,” Manny said.

“I don't think so.”

“You think she's having a problem or something?”

“I don't know.”

“Well, if she's just a couple hours late—” Manny paused. “I don't see why you're worried enough to call me.”

“I guess I'm just over-reacting.”

“I can have a man drive the road, take a look. I can't do much more than that.”

“Okay, thanks, Manny.”

“Call me back if she doesn't show.”

“Right.” Lewis hung up. It was six o'clock now. He grabbed a jacket and went out to his car. He got in and turned the key and nothing happened. He remembered he'd moved the battery to his truck. He got out and wondered if it would be faster to unhitch the trailer or get the battery. He laughed at his thinking. If the guys in the van were looking for his truck, then he should take the car. On the other hand, if they knew his car and his truck, then it would be better to be in the truck because it was more powerful and faster without the trailer. He shook his head as he began to undo the chains on the hitch. He pushed the trailer back and let it down.

He slid and skidded his way down the dirt road to the highway, driving too fast. He came to his senses as he pulled onto the black top. He'd be of no use to Maggie dead or maimed himself. He drove into town and out the other side. He stopped for gas before the pass, watching the road while he pumped in case Maggie drove by.

He made his way over the mountains and into the town of Española. It was here that he would really have to be alert. Maggie might pass him in this traffic easily. A maroon vehicle would not be the easiest to see. He was beginning to have the feeling that Maggie was all right, that after a drive all the way to Albuquerque and back he would find her at home worrying about him.

He left Española and stopped along the side of the road outside of Santa Fe. He would have to think this through. There was not only a great deal of traffic in Santa Fe, but the freeway began here. And it was getting dark. There were just too many ways they could miss each other, so he decided to get through town as quickly as possible, drive to Cochiti and turn back.

It was dark when he finished the loop and was again in Santa Fe. He continued toward home, still scrutinizing the roadside. Then, at Camel Rock, parked with the last tourists' cars, was a small, maroon pickup. He stopped, got out and approached the vehicle. It was a Mazda. It was Maggie's.

He walked across the road to the Camel Rock. A woman was yelling at her husband that it was too dark to take a picture. A teenager had almost finished his climb to the top of the Camel's head. Lewis called out.

The highway patrolman didn't seem all that concerned. Of course, it was not his friend who was missing. He walked around the truck, shining the beam of his flashlight at the tires, into the cab, at the grill. He studied the hood, then bent to see more closely.

“What is it?” Lewis asked.

“I don't think she had any kind of engine trouble,” the officer said.

“Why do you say that?”

“Look at the dust on the hood. Hasn't been disturbed. Even people who don't know anything about cars open the hood when something's wrong. If she had opened it, she'd have left prints, smudges in the dust.” The patrolman seemed pleased at his deduction.

“So, what do you think?”

“I'd say she stopped here, met someone and left with that person or persons-unknown.”

“What now?”

“If she doesn't call or show up in twenty-four hours, she becomes a missing person.”

“She's a missing person now,” Lewis said. “You find somebody's car abandoned on a highway a hundred miles from her home and that somebody is also overdue after having told a friend when she expected to arrive and that somebody's car has not failed her in any apparent way and that somebody is not missing? Is that what you're telling me?”

The patrolman leaned against Maggie's truck. “I understand what you're saying and you and I are well aware that each set of circumstances is unique, but the law can't take into account every individual case. The rule says that a party must be missing for twenty-four hours before considered missing. In some places it's forty-eight hours.”

Lewis looked at him. “You said that very well. In the meantime, while I'm waiting for my lost friend to become missing, what do you suggest I do?”

“Go home and wait. She's probably waiting for you.” The officer looked at the truck. “She may have heard a sound that she wasn't familiar with, knew she couldn't fix and didn't bother to raise the hood.”

“She would have called.”

The patrolman shrugged.

Lewis was wishing that he had lied about how long Maggie was overdue. The younger man gave him a “keep steady” slap on the shoulder and went to his patrol car where he sat with his door open and his dome light on and used the radio. Lewis looked at the highway. The silhouette of Camel Rock stood against the lavender night sky.