Trouble at the Red Pueblo (6 page)

Laurie stood and scooted Spider off his chair next to Neva, putting her arm around the woman’s sagging shoulders. That compassionate act opened the floodgates, and Neva began to sob, leaning against Laurie for support as the salty byproduct of her fear and helplessness freely flowed.

Spider walked to the trunk of the cottonwood and leaned against it, watching the way Neva sat in a semi-fetal position in the circle of Laurie’s arms. Uncomfortable to be intruding on her misery, he walked around the tree and surveyed the back-yard neighbors’ garden plot. While he examined the corn, green beans and ripening cantaloupe, he listened to Neva’s lessening sobs and the encouraging tone of Laurie’s murmured words. Finally he judged it was safe to walk back around.

Approaching Neva, he cleared his throat. “Could I ask what you meant when you said you were afraid of what Matt would do?”

Laurie’s head whipped around and her eyes flashed. “Spider Latham, you leave this woman alone. She needs peace and quiet, not someone stirring the pot.”

Neva held up her hand. “It’s okay, Laurie.” She wiped her nose with the still-folded handkerchief and turned red-rimmed eyes to Spider. “I don’t know what I meant. Truly I don’t. It just came out.”

Laurie stood. “How about a little rest? Wouldn’t that be good?” Her voice was soft and soothing as she helped Neva up.

The two women walked together to the house. Spider heard them talking to Martin as they stepped through the sliding glass door, and then Laurie reappeared.

“I think I’ll stay here while Neva rests,” she said. “Why don’t you go back to the hotel? It’s just a few blocks. I’ll walk back when I’m done here.”

“All right.” Spider waited a moment after Laurie disappeared inside, wondering if he should try to talk to Martin again. Deciding against that, he picked up his hat and walked around the house to where his pickup was parked.

He took an alternate route to the hotel and noticed a crew setting up a portable stage by the Kanab Museum steps. A banner over the road advertised that the Western Legends Roundup was this coming weekend. Spider inwardly groaned, seeing visions of what his father used to call ‘drugstore cowboys’ thronging the streets. And cowboy poetry. There would be lots of cowboy poetry.

It was with that depressing thought that he turned left into the hotel parking lot and braked at the sight of the car in the fourth parking space. “Turns up like a bad penny,” he muttered. Cars on both sides obscured the front of the square little orange car, but he’d lay money that it was a Yugo and had black flames flowing back on the front and sides.

“HEY, DEPUTY LATHAM
!”

Recognizing the voice, Spider rolled down the window. “Hello, Jade. I thought you might be around. Your car gave you away.”

Jade crossed from the direction of the hotel lobby, fishing an envelope from his pocket as he walked. A young man trailed behind, carrying a yellow plastic shopping bag. “It’s not my car,” Jade said.

“The company car, then.”

Jade grinned. “Not anymore. Now it’s yours.”

“Say again?” A minivan beeped the horn behind him, and Spider waved an apology. “Let me park,” he told Jade. “Then we can talk.”

He swung into a vacant space and got out of the truck. “What are you doing here in Kanab?” He shook his friend’s hand and then took the proffered envelope.

“Special delivery. Oh, this is Raul. He’s my brother-in law.”

Spider greeted Raul and then opened the envelope. Pulling out several sheets of paper, he examined the first one and his eyebrows shot up. “Great suffering zot! Is this for real?”

Jade hadn’t quit grinning since he had first greeted Spider. “Yeah. You’re now the proud owner of a 1991 Yugo. Allow me to personally thank you, along with all the other people at Tremain Enterprises. Keys are in it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Nothing to understand. Dad has given you the Yugo.”

“But why?”

Jade drew them both into the shade of a covered walkway where heat wasn’t radiating off the black asphalt. “I told him you were driving that same pickup, and he felt you ought to have another car. He knows you can’t use your county cruiser when you’re doing work for him. He says driving the Yugo gives you an edge.”

“Oh? How’s that?”

“He says people will underestimate you. Let their guard down.”

Spider folded the papers and put them back in the envelope. “You sound like you don’t quite believe him.”

Raul laughed and Jade nodded, a rueful look on his face. “Yeah. I think when he bought the Yugo he thought it would appreciate in value. Having it in the garage reminds him that he may know lots about mining but not much about cars.”

Spider held up the envelope. “So, it’s mine?”

“The car is yours. The tax write-off is his.” Jade looked at his watch. “We’ve got a four hour drive ahead of us. We’ve got to get on the road, but here, take these.” He motioned to his companion.

Mystified, Spider took the sack Raul handed him.

“Dad wants to be able to get hold of you,” Jade said. “And, since the Yugo has the problem with the gas gauge—”

“I remember,” Spider interrupted.

“—he wants you to be able to get hold of Laurie.”

Spider looked in the bag and took out a smart phone in a blue case.

“That one is Laurie’s,” Jade said. “Yours is black. You’ve got a service contract for a year, courtesy of Tremain Enterprises. All the company numbers are already in it. Keep it charged and on.”

“Charged and on,” Spider said. “I may be able to manage that.”

Jade walked back out onto the asphalt. “Dad kept the insurance on the car. It’s good for six months. His assistant will let you know when you need to change it over.”

Spider dropped the envelope in the plastic bag and followed Jade into the sunshine. “I don’t know what to say.”

Jade laughed. “Admit it. You don’t know whether to thank dad or curse him.”

“No, no. Tell your dad thank you. Shoot, I’ll tell him myself. I’ve got his number and a phone to call him with.”

“It’s a smartphone,” Raul said. “It’ll do more than call. You can access the Internet from anywhere, send emails, do research.”

“Sounds like it’s smarter than I am,” Spider said. “My son Robby tried to show me how to use one last time I visited him in Seattle. I don’t know who was more frustrated, him or me.”

“It has a GPS to help you find an address,” Raul said. “You want me to show you how to use it?”

Jade clapped his brother-in-law on the shoulder. “No time,
hermano
. We have to get on the road.” He waved a farewell to Spider as he backed away. “Remember, Dad wants a report.”

“I don’t know much yet. Got a lot of questions but dang few answers.”

Jade and Raul got in a small sedan parked near the office, and Spider walked over to the Yugo. He stood, hands on hips, the corners of his mouth lifting in a wry smile.

Jade backed up and rolled down his window. “I left a couple bottles of water in the back.”

“Thanks.” Spider waved as Jade pulled away then opened the door of his new car and leaned in to get the key.

A voice spoke from behind. “I had a car just like that when I was seventeen.”

The accent was slightly British, and Spider straightened up and looked around to see who had spoken. The only person nearby looked decidedly un-British. Of medium height and slender, he had black hair, dark eyes and skin the color of honey.

The fellow smiled. “Of course it was a different color and didn’t have flames all over the bonnet.”

“I’d like it better if this one was a little less conspicuous.” Spider stepped into the shade under the awning. “So what did you think of it at seventeen?”

“I thought I’d much rather have an E-type Jag.”

Spider rubbed his jaw as he did the math. “Didn’t Jaguar quit making the E-types in the mid ‘70s?”

The stranger’s dark eyes twinkled. “Yes. My father wanted to keep me humble. I told him driving a twenty-year-old E-type would do the joke.”

“Do the joke? Oh, you mean it would do the trick.”

“Yes. Do the trick. I’ve got to practice that one.

“I take it he didn’t buy your argument?”

“He didn’t buy the argument or the Jag. He bought a brand new Yugo.”

Spider chuckled and stuck out his hand. “By the way, my name’s Spider Latham.”

“Spider, you said?” The stranger clasped his hand. “I am Karam Mansour.”

“Where you from, Karam?”

“By birth and,” he touched his heart, “in here, I am Palestinian, from Gaza. But I live and work in Dubai.”

“Is that so?” Spider leaned a shoulder against one of the pillars supporting the awning. “So what brings you to this neck of the woods?”

Karam’s brows came together. “I do not understand this… neck in the… woods, was it?”

Spider stood. “Sorry. I was just wondering what you’re doing in these parts. Around here. In Kanab.”

Karam’s white teeth flashed. He took out his phone and tapped the screen several times and then began keying in the phrase, saying each word softly as he spelled it. “I collect American idioms, since I teach American History.” He put the phone back in his pocket. “To answer your question, I was on my way to San Diego, and my car broke down. The man at the garage sent me to a man who is confident he can fix it, but we are awaiting parts.”

“Oh. How long’s it going to take?”

“Two weeks.”

“Two weeks? Great suffering zot! Where do the parts have to come from?”

“Unfortunately, from London.”

“What kind of a car do you have? No, don’t tell me. A 1974 E-Type Jag?”

Karam raised his hands in surrender. “It’s a ’73, and I perfectly understand why my father would not buy me one.”

Spider laughed. “Speaking of being humble, there’s nothing lower than being afoot in a one-horse town.”

Noting the confused look on Karam’s face, Spider changed the wording. “There’s nothing worse than not having transportation in a very small town.”

“It is very inconvenient. There is a museum in the next town that I wanted to see, but there is only one taxi in Kanab. He is already booked.”

“The Red Pueblo? I was just getting set to go down there myself. Want to come with me?”

“That would be excellent.”

“Tell you what. How about you drive the Yugo and follow me, so I can drop my rig off for my wife. Then we’ll head on down to the museum.”

Karam agreed, and the Yugo shadowed Spider’s truck to the Taylor residence. When Laurie answered Spider’s knock, she put her finger to her lips and said, “They’re both sleeping.”

“I just wanted to give you this.” He held out the pickup keys in one hand and the plastic bag carrying her cell phone in the other.

As she took them, she spied the Yugo sitting at the curb and looked questioningly at Spider. His whispered explanation about Jade, the Yugo and Karam only seemed to confuse the issue.

“We’ll sort it out this afternoon,” she said. “Thanks for bringing me the pickup.”

“Call me,” he said backing away. He pointed to the yellow bag.

Laurie’s brows drew together, and when Spider motioned for her to open the sack, she looked inside. Letting the door close behind her, she stepped to the edge of the porch. “What’s this?”

“Brick Tremain wants us to stay in touch. Call me when you’re on your way home. My phone number’s in it.”

Spider walked back to the car and got in the passenger seat. “Just head on down to the end of the block and hang a right.”

Karam put the car in gear. “Go straight then turn right?”

“That works, too.” As they pulled away, Spider adjusted the air conditioning, sat back, and looked around. From the inside it wasn’t a bad looking car. A little Spartan, perhaps, but the price was right.

Karam broke into his thoughts. “Your wife is beautiful.”

“I’ve always thought so.”

“I will be marrying this winter. She is my cousin. We have been promised for several years, but getting in and out of my country is hard. If she emigrates successfully, we will marry in Dubai.”

“Your cousin? First or second?”

“This will be my first wife.”

“No, I mean is she your first cousin? The daughter of your father’s brother?”

Spider watched while Karam whispered the words to himself, working out the connection.

“Yes,” he said.

“Does that happen much in your country, marrying your cousin?”

Karam nodded. “Young men know they owe it to their families to make sure the young women have husbands.”

Spider grunted. “Huh.”

“Young men have an obligation to see that their cousins have the chance to marry.”

“You just said that.”

“But you said ‘huh.’ Does not that mean you do not understand?”

Spider thought a moment. “I guess it does, depending on how you say it. Sometimes it means you got the message.”

“So, depending on how you say it, it can either mean you do not understand or you do understand?”

“That’s about the size of it.”

“Size of what? What are you talking about?”

“That means what you said is right. Correct. True.”

Karam pulled over to the side of the road at the Arizona state line. “Will you please drive? I need to record these notes.”

Spider took the wheel, and as they dropped down into Fredonia, Karam whispered, “That’s… about… the… size… of… it,” as he keyed the phrase and meaning into his phone.