Trouble at the Red Pueblo (25 page)

Spider looked around the room. “I don’t suppose there’s a mirror you could find, so I can see the damage?”

“There’s one in the tray table.” She got up and swung the tray over his bed. I’m going to raise your head a bit.” She pressed the remote control. “Tell me when to stop.”

Spider lifted his hand when he was on a comfortable incline and then had her raise his knees. “That’s good. Thanks.” He lifted the hinged area of the table and regarded himself in the mirror.

What he saw wasn’t as bad as the amount of bandages the nurse took off might indicate, though an impressive maroon area circled his right eye and bled over onto the area below his left. He lifted the gauze bandage stuck on his temple above his right eyebrow and examined the raw meat beneath.

Linda sucked in a breath. “That’s an ugly looking wound.”

“It’s not deep, though. Lucky I have such a thick skull.” He turned his head, keeping his eyes on the mirror. “Can’t see any other damage.”

“You have a bruise on your arm.”

Spider felt around the darkened place. “It’s a little tender, but not bad.” Pushing the tray away, he flung back the covers and swung his legs around. “I don’t know why they’ve got me in here. There’s really nothing—”

Linda stepped closer, pushing against his shoulders to keep him from falling off the bed. “You’re white as a sheet. Please stay where you are, at least until the sheriff’s gone.”

Spider let her help him lie back and get his feet back on the bed. He fought the wave of nausea sweeping over him and hoped he wouldn’t disgrace himself by vomiting. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths. After a few moments, things settled down enough that he could open his eyes. “Thank you,” he said to Linda. “I’ll wait for the sheriff right here.”

She looked toward the door and then at her watch. “There he is. Look, Spider, I’ve got to go. I’m afraid— well, never mind.” She pulled up the covers and patted his hand. She nodded to the uniformed man as he walked in and stood in front of Spider’s bed, and then she left.

Spider watched her go and then turned to examine the officer, noting that he was a deputy, not the sheriff. Of moderate height, muscular and fit, he was dressed in a tan uniform with knife-sharp creases and shiny black leather at his waist. He looked to be in his mid-thirties.

“Mr. Latham?” The deputy’s voice was respectful.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m Deputy Toby Flint. It’s good to see you looking better. With that head wound, you were bleeding like a stuck pig.”

“Glad to see you.” Spider pointed to the chair. “Have a seat.”

Deputy Flint sat down and cleared his throat. “I know you’re a deputy sheriff over in Nevada, and I’ve met Mrs. Latham.”

“I heard she’s at the sheriff’s office.” Spider smiled. “How’re you all getting along?”

The deputy shook his head. “She’s quite a lady. Says she’s not leaving until this Mansour fellow can come with her.”

“Why is Karam in jail, anyway?”

“Your car was blown up by a bomb. I’ve got a citizen who saw Mr. Mansour with his cell phone out at the moment of detonation.”

“Did you round up all the people with cell phones out at the moment of detonation?”

Deputy Flint paused before answering. “No. Mr. Mansour is the only Palestinian in town.”

“Which proves what?”

“It would indicate that he’s much more familiar with bombs than any local citizens.”

Spider smoothed the wrinkles out of the sheet. “You know, Deputy, Thursday afternoon, Karam was driving my car— it’s a distinctive looking car, wouldn’t you say?” He paused, half smiling, waiting for a response. When the deputy nodded, he went on. “He pulled over at the state line and got out of the car, and someone pulled in afterward and attacked him.” Spider held up a hand when it looked like the deputy was going to speak. “Let me finish. When his attacker left, and just before he knocked him cold, he gave Karam a message that was obviously intended for me.”

“Did he report the attack?” Deputy Flint asked. “Which side of the border was it on?”

“It was in your territory. I wanted to call it in, but Karam wouldn’t let me. He said that his experience with police didn’t give him any confidence. In fact, he was afraid to report it.”

“Well, I can understand that. Police where he comes from are probably corrupt.”

“He wasn’t talking about police in the Middle East. He was talking about American police and racial profiling.”

Deputy Flint looked at his shoe tips, obviously digesting the information. Looking up, he asked, “How do you know about this attack?”

“I had loaned him my car while Laurie and I went to St. George in the pickup. On the way home, we found the car parked behind a building with him unconscious inside it.”

“I see. And he didn’t want you to call the police?”

“He said you’d either think he was a terrorist…” Spider let the word hang for a moment. “…or, because of the color of his skin, you’d suspect him of being an illegal Hispanic.”

Deputy Flint grimaced and scratched the back of his head. “Okay. Let’s start again. You obviously don’t think he had anything to do with the bomb in your car. Why not?”

“Well, first because he’s a friend. Second, because he didn’t have opportunity. Or motive. Third, because— do you have his cell phone?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know what time the bomb went off? It was about nine-thirty, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Well, if you look in the notes section on Karam’s phone, he was jotting down the definition of jam at the precise time of detonation.”

“Jam? Like strawberry preserves?”

Spider shook his head. “Like a bunch of musicians getting together to play. He was heading over to the Old Barn for the jam session. Karam teaches American History.” Spider smiled as he saw the deputy’s eyebrows rise. “He gathers idioms and puts them in a list in his cell. That’s what this citizen saw him doing.”

Deputy Flint again looked at the shiny toes of his shoes, as if a decision could be read there. Apparently it could. He looked up and said, “I’ve got a man that can examine the cell phone. If that checks out, I’ll release him into Mrs. Latham’s custody.”

“It’ll check out.”

“The FBI is coming in to go over the car. Mr. Mansour is not to leave the area until we’ve given permission.”

“He can’t leave. That was his car that blew up.”

Deputy Flint blinked. “I thought you said it was your car.”

“It was, but just yesterday morning I traded the Yugo for his broken-down E-type Jaguar.”

“That was his car? Over at Shorty’s?” The deputy put his elbows on the chair arms and leaned in. “Now it’s yours? I was over there last week looking at it. What a beauty.” He cocked his head. “Why would he trade it for— no offence— a little orange box with wheels?”

“And flames. Don’t forget the flames.”

“I wasn’t forgetting them.”

Spider smiled. “It’s a long story. Short version is that he needs to get on his way, and the Yugo would be a ride out of town. He had one when he was young. Might have been a bit of nostalgia there.”

Deputy Flint stood. “We called in the FBI because this had the look of a terrorist bombing, but even if it’s not, I’ll be glad to have their people looking at the evidence around the car. When they get here, I’ll tell them about the assault on Mr. Mansour yesterday. Most probably the two incidents are related. Do you have any enemies, anyone who would want to hurt you?”

“Well, yes.” Spider pointed at the chair. “Sit down, Deputy. This may take a while.”

LAURIE AND KARAM
, still wearing Laurie’s gift around his neck, arrived about the time the patient was released from the hospital.

Spider left with a gauze pad taped to his forehead and an admonition to lie low for twenty-four hours. He grumbled at being taken out in a wheelchair but ended up accepting a boost from Karam to get up in the pickup. Laurie drove back to the hotel, and the trip from the parking lot to their room turned Spider into a dishrag. He gratefully lay down on the bed, and when Laurie covered him with a blanket, he kissed her hand.

She and Karam took up residence in the only two chairs in the room, opening books and quietly reading. Their silent presence weighed on Spider, and he felt like he needed to make conversation or entertain them in some way. He raised his head and said, “You don’t have to stay here. I’ll be fine.”

Laurie smiled. “I wouldn’t feel good about leaving you alone.”

Spider put his head down and closed his eyes, but he couldn’t relax. Each time he heard a page turn, he waited for the sound of the next. He raised up on an elbow. “Really. I want you to go. Take Karam and do something wonderful. He’ll be leaving soon. Go see the sand dunes or run up to Zion National Park. I can’t rest with you here.”

Laurie put down her book. “Oh. I didn’t realize that. Do you want something to eat before we go?”

He shook his head. “Right now, I just want to sleep.”

“You got it.” Laurie kissed him and motioned to Karam. Still in quiet mode, they tiptoed out of the room and pulled the door softly shut.

By mid-afternoon Laurie must have forgotten about quiet mode. She breezed in, letting the door bang shut behind her. “Wake up, sleepyhead. I’ve got take-out from Big Al’s.”

Spider surfaced. It took a moment to figure out where he was and the chain of events that brought him to this moment. Then he got up and crept over to sit in the chair. He took the paper bag she handed him and looked inside it. “No chocolate shake?”

Laurie shook her head. “It’s so hot out, I was afraid it would melt before we got home.”

Spider pulled the corners of his mouth down.

“Don’t pout. We brought you some sweet potato fries, and Karam’s gone to the vending machine to get you a Pepsi.”

Karam came in on cue with the soda and handed it to Spider.

“Thanks.” Spider pulled out a burger and unwrapped it. “Where you been?”

Karam flashed a wide smile. “We went riding.”

“Riding? I thought you didn’t do horses, Karam.” Spider fished the bag of fries out of the sack.

“I never have before, but Laurie assured me that Scout would be very tame.”

“It’s the pinto that I rode the other day,” Laurie said. “I knew he’d do fine on her.”

Spider flattened the sack on his lap as a makeshift tray. “Did Jack or Amy ride with you?”

Laurie snitched one of his fries. “Nope. They weren’t home.”

“Did they go to church?”

“I don’t think so. The pickup and horse trailer were gone, and Taffy wasn’t in her stall. He must have taken her somewhere.”

“Huh,” Spider grunted. “So you just stole a couple of his horses and went joyriding?”

“He told me I could come out and ride anytime. It was great. There was a hard rain last night— did you hear it?”

“I don’t think I was conscious at the time.”

“Well, there was quite a bit of water running in the arroyos still, and the rocks were deep red.”

Karam added, “Yes, and the air smelled so good.”

“That’s great.” Spider put his half-eaten burger down on the flattened paper bag and jerked his head toward a chair. “Sit down, Karam. Let’s talk about the car situation.”

As Karam took the other chair, Laurie sank down on the bed. “What car situation?”

Spider answered her question with another. “Remember when I mentioned trading the Yugo for another car?”

Laurie wrinkled her forehead. “Last night? Vaguely. A lot has happened since then.”

“Well, I traded it to Karam for the car he has in the shop. He was going to leave early this morning in the Yugo.”

Laurie looked from Spider to Karam. “I’m trying to figure out which of you has more completely lost his mind.”

Karam leaned forward, his face serious. “If you knew all the factors involved, you would understand that it is a very good solution.”

Spider held up a fry. “
Was
a very good solution.”

“So what are we going to do?” Laurie asked.

Karam pointed first at Laurie and then at Spider. “You do not need to worry. The Yugo was my car. I had insurance coverage on it.”

Laurie laughed out loud, and Spider shook his head. “I doubt you’ll get anything for it.”

“And how are you going to get where you’re going?” Laurie added. “Can’t you wait however long it is until your other car is fixed?”