The Scent of Murder (24 page)

She raised it, aimed at my chest and fired. I could hear something whizz by my ear as I ducked. I kicked out at the gun. It flew out of her hand and I leaped for her. We rolled over in the mud. I could feel her nails clawing at my face. Then she put her head down and bit my shoulder. I screamed and punched her head. She let go of me and started crawling towards the gun.

“Don't bother,” I told her, as I dragged her back by her leg. Then I punched her in the face and she fell back down.

I ran back to the car. Manuel was lying across the seat moaning. There was blood all over the place. “Thanks a lot,” he said, when he saw me.

“I'm sorry Manuel.”

“I guess you really were pissed at me, after all.”

I started to laugh. I couldn't help it. “Where'd she shoot you?”

“My shoulder.”

I tore the sleeve of his shirt off and looked at the wound. It wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. Walker had clipped him as I pulled her wrist up.

“What happened?”

I told him, as I helped him up and untied his hands.

“You know what?” he said.

“What?”

“From now on, I think I'm going to stick to females my own age.”

“Good idea.” And I hugged him.

T
here were a couple of inches of snow on the ground, as George, Manuel, Gerri, Amy, Mr. Bones, and I walked down the path to Murphy's grave. We'd all managed to squeeze ourselves into my cab, since George's car was still in the shop. It would be another week before it was fixed. Fortunately, insurance was picking up the tab, but, even so, George told me he'd never let me get behind the wheel of a car of his again, even though he allowed that he would have done the same thing himself.

I snuck a look at Amy as she chatted with her mother. She was out on a day pass from Cedar View. Two weeks had made an enormous difference. She'd dyed her hair reddish brown and gotten rid of the heavy black eye makeup and the white lipstick. It looked as though the old Amy—the one I'd seen in the early photographs—was re-emerging. She caught me looking at her and smiled.

“I want to thank you,” she said.

“It's okay.”

“My mom said I should do something to make up for all the trouble I caused.” She fidgeted. “I was thinking, maybe I could work in your store a couple of days a week when I get out of Cedar View.”

I nodded. “It sounds like a good plan.”

By now Gerri was talking to George and Manuel. Amy drifted over to my side. “So how's Mr. Bones getting on with your mother?” I asked. Gerri had come to the store and picked him up a couple of days after I'd delivered Amy to her.

Amy grinned. “Go figure. She thinks he's cute.”

“Well he is.”

“She just doesn't want him running around the house and pooping everywhere.”

“That seems fair.” I leaned over and stroked Mr. Bones. “He looks very dapper.” Amy had put his harness on for the occasion.

“I'm going back to school in a couple of weeks.”

“What about art classes?”

“I'm going to take those at night at the university. Then, when I graduate, I'll have a portfolio.”

I broached what I was going to say next carefully. “Listen, if this upsets you, you don't have to talk about it, but if you want to, I'd really like to know how you found out about your father's diamonds.”

“No, I don't mind.” Amy kicked at the snow with her boot. The flakes flying up glittered like mica in the sun. “The first time I went up there, Dad was in the middle of shaving. He was really surprised to see me, let me tell you.” She laughed as she recalled the expression on his face. “Anyway, he let me in and told me he'd be right back. And there was this little packet on the coffee table in the living room. I figured maybe it was drugs—Dad had been taking tranqs and sleeping pills—so I opened it. To see what was inside.” She looked sheepish. “I thought, what the hell, maybe I'd take a few. Only it was diamonds. I don't know, I just put them in my pocket and ran out the door.” She shrugged. “I guess that wasn't very nice, was it?”

“It certainly wasn't very smart.” But then at her age, I hadn't been very smart, either.

Amy kicked up another clump of snow. “Maybe I was feeling guilt, or maybe I was smoking some bad weed, but I kept on thinking my dad was gonna find me and have me put in jail, and then I remembered what Murphy had said to me about you. I thought maybe you could get in contact with him, or something. I was working up my nerve to tell you, when I saw those cops waiting outside of your store and I freaked. The door to your office was open. I saw the desk and threw the package under it and ran.”

“Then what happened?”

“I decided I'd better talk to my dad, so I called him and he told me to come on up. But when I got there he ... was,” her voice dropped, “gone. I didn't know what to do.”

“So you called me,” I finished.

She nodded.

“Why did you keep running away?”

“I don't know. I wanted to talk to you, but everytime I was going to, I kept getting this idea in my head that you were going to call the police and turn me in. I thought they'd arrest me for Dad's murder. I didn't think they'd listen to anything I had to say. At least that's what Toon Town kept telling me.”

“Well, there you go.” By now we were almost at Murphy's grave.

“He wasn't a very good person to listen to, was he?”

“I think it's safe to say that when a twenty-five-year-old man starts hanging around with a fifteen-year-old girl, he has a few problems.”

“Tell me about it,” Manuel grumped. I'd been so involved talking to Amy that I hadn't realized that Manuel had drifted back to join us. His gunshot wound was almost healed and, although he'd have to go to physical therapy for a couple of months, he was going to have complete mobility in his arm. “I'm definitely sticking to women my own age.” He turned up the collar on his ski parka.

“Nice jacket,” I commented. I think it was the first weather-appropriate piece of apparel I'd ever seen him wear.

“My mother made me put it on,” Manuel said. “Walter bought it for me. I think it makes me look like a jerk.”

“No. It's okay,” Amy said.

“Really?” Manuel straightened his shoulders. “You're not shucking me?”

“No,” Amy answered. “I'm working on not lying so much anymore.”

I moved up in front of Murphy's tombstone and joined Gerri and George. George took out a couple of bottles of Sam Adams out of the bag he was carrying and opened them up.

“He did try,” I said, indicating the tombstone.

Gerri nodded. “I think he meant well.” She pulled her sheepskin jacket around her.

I nodded back in Amy's direction. “Are you going to tell her?”

“I've been toying with the idea.”

“I think you should.”

“When she's stronger.” Then Manuel and Amy came up and Gerri fell silent.

They continued whispering to each other, while George poured the two bottles of beer over the grave. He made a short speech, and I did the same, and we both promised Murphy we'd come and visit him at least twice a year. Maybe if he had more company, he'd cause less trouble. On the way back to the cab, George pulled me aside.

“When are you going to pay me my twenty-five dollars?” he said.

I did wide-eyed innocence. If it worked for Elizabeth Walker, maybe it would work for me. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“You lost the bet.” He put his hands on his hips. “Didn't you think I'd be able to smell it?”

“Actually I was hoping you wouldn't.”

“Don't you have any standards at all?”

“A few. But I'm working on getting rid of them, too.”

Barbara Block lives in Syracuse, New York, with her three sons and a variety of pets. She is the author of five Robin Light mysteries: CHUTES AND ADDERS, TWISTER, IN PLAIN SIGHT, THE SCENT OF MURDER and VANISHING ACT (now available at bookstores everywhere in hardcover). Barbara is currently working on her next Robin Light mystery, which will be published in September, 1999. She loves hearing from her readers and you may write to her c/o Zebra Books. Please include a self-addressed, stamped envelope if you wish a response.

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