Twisted (31 page)

“Mary Grace, do you reckon you made a mistake or somethin’? Look at the price on this sculpture. Nobody’s gonna pay twelve thousand dollars for that.”

She just looked at me and smiled. “I’m glad you said that, Jeff. It reminded me. I need to put a sold sign on this sculpture.”

“So how much did you sell it for?”

“Twelve thousand dollars.” I was shocked. Mary Grace looked at me and laughed.

“Jeff, you’re getting to be quite well known in the art world. The price for your sculptures is going up all the time. In fact, we’ve sold most of the ones we have for sale. So I need some more sculptures as soon as you can start working on them.”

“I have a few carvings that I need to make molds for. Mary Grace, I can save the molds from the next few sculptures I do. Can we sell several copies of the same sculpture?”

“Sure, we could just call it a ‘limited series’. You won’t get as much for them though, just maybe three to five thousand apiece.”

“I reckon I can get by on that.”

Mike snorted. “Get by on that. Poor Jeffy. I guess it’s rice and beans for dinner all next week, and I reckon breakfast is on you.” He continued laughing.

“Not so fast, Mike. You’re getting fairly well known too. Your belts are going for four times what I first priced them at.” It was Mike’s turn to be astounded. Mary Grace giggled again.

“Mike, close your mouth. Sandy and Smitty were in here the other day. They were telling me about your new horses. I looked the breed up on the Internet, and it was amazing how their coats shine. Maybe if you use the hair from them, we could even double the prices you’re getting now.”

“I never knew you were such a sharp businesswoman, Mary Grace.”

“I just do my homework. It’s part of the job of managing the co-op.”

Mike looked at her. “Speaking of breakfast, Jeff and I came by here to invite you out for breakfast.”

She grinned ear to ear. “I’m certainly not going to turn down breakfast with the two handsomest cowboys I know.”

“Great! Let’s go, I’m hungry.”

I chuckled. “Hold your horses, Mike. You got someone to watch the co-op when you step out, Mary Grace?”

“I do. I’ll ask Charlotte to watch it. She’s in the back, and so is my coat.” She stepped into the back and returned in just a few minutes with her coat. It was actually more of a cape. It was long and black and had some beautiful embroidery around the collar and hems.

“Is the cantina okay with you two? They have a nice veggie scramble that I like.”

“Fine with us, right, Jeffy?” I nodded, and we headed out the door.

“S
O
I
hear you two are playing snowshoe softball?”

“Yep. We put together a Lucky Jeff Ranch Snowshoe Softball team, didn’t we, Jeff?”

“Yeah, it’s like ‘hail, hail, the gang’s all here’.”

“I’ll be there to cheer you on. So your whole group is going to play?”

“They sure are.”

“That sounds nice, Mike.” The waitress brought our coffee and an herbal tea for Mary Grace and took our orders.

“The way the two of you eat, I’m surprised you stay so slim.”

“Lots of hard work, Mary Grace.” Mike nodded as I answered.

“And lots of skiing, snowshoeing, and exercise.”

“Are you still planning on going to the rodeo in Arizona?”

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world, would we, Mike?”

“No, I’m really looking forward to the gay rodeo and to seeing how it’s different than a straight rodeo.”

“Do you mind if I do a protection spell for you two?”

“That’s a great idea, Mary Grace, especially now that the sheriff and the FBI think the Cutter’s after Jeffy.”

“What!” She was so surprised at this she slopped her tea all over.

“I got a letter the other day which may come from the Cutter. It said that I’m on his list.”

“I’ll definitely do a spell for you then. Not only for safety in travel and while you’re competing, but against that maniac too!” I’d seen Mary Grace’s spells before. They seemed to work out as she expected them to. Any help she could give me was greatly appreciated.

“Thanks, Mary Grace.” I smiled at her. “You don’t mind if we talk about something else, do you? I’d rather not think of torture and serial killers over breakfast.”

“Right, Jeff. I understand. So who is playing which position in the snowshoe softball game?” I could tell Mary Grace was worried. She did disguise it with a nice smile though.

“I’m first base, Mike’s pitchin’, José is catcher, Smitty is second base, Maria is third base, Josh is shortstop, and everyone else is outfield.”

“Jason isn’t playing?”

“No, he’s gonna be the cheerin’ section.”

“It sounds like you guys are going to have quite a bit of fun.”

“That’s what it’s all about, just gettin’ together and havin’ a good time. I really enjoyed it when I played before.”

“It’s gonna be my first snowshoe softball game.” Mike had a big smile on his face.

“Before I forget, I got a call from
Western Artist Magazine
. They want to do a story on the two of you and your art. Are you up for that?” Mike and I exchanged glances.

“Sure, can you make it after we come back from the rodeo though?” Mike nodded as I spoke. “That’ll give us the week between the softball game and the rodeo to get some work done. I reckon I can have one, maybe two more sculptures, by the end of the month. If you want me to do a series, like you said, I can have maybe three more.”

“Great! Mike, can you get a few more belts?”

“I reckon I can. I’ll do some hatbands first. Belts take a bit longer. I do about an inch, maybe a little more, an hour.”

“Good! Jeff, you also may think of doing some jewelry. People love the rings you made for yourself and Mike.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll get right on it!” I saluted, and she playfully slapped my arm. We all laughed. “Actually, Mary Grace, we can spend the afternoon workin’ on our art. Right, Mike?”

“Right, Jeff. That’s what the boss lady wants!”

Mary Grace laughed. “You two!” Just then our food came. It was good and we dug in.

“How are things going with your father, Mike?” Mary Grace looked at him searchingly.

“We talk a bit more. He likes it that I call him Dad again. I reckon that all the good stuff he’s doin’ with Jason and others shows he’s changed, but….” He stared down into his plate. I put my hand on his thigh.

“I understand, Mike. Years of abuse can take years to work through.”

He nodded at her. “I like that he’s not pushin’ me, or anythin’. He lets me take any relationship stuff at my own speed. Jeff’s been great too.” He looked at me, all misty-eyed. “His bein’ supportive has been a real help.”

“Your father was fit to be tied the other day, Mike. I thought he was going to go and hunt Spencer down.” She looked very angry as she spoke.

“What happened now?” Mike looked from her to me. I just shrugged. I didn’t know what she was talking about.

“Spencer put up a bunch of flyers about a prayer meeting at his church. He wants people to get together and pray for the Cutter so that he’ll ‘be successful in God’s work in ridding the world of sin’.” She shook her head in disgust. Mike’s mouth had dropped open, and I must have looked like a deer in the headlights.

“What?” I managed to choke out. “Whatever happened to ‘Thou shalt not kill’?”

“Jeffy, you know that doesn’t apply to them. They think they’re above the law, and their hateful God sanctions whatever they do.” Mike’s voice was heavy with sarcasm. “Maybe this time, I’ll help Dad kick the shit outta Spencer.”

“What a great father-son bonding experience, kicking the shit outta a bigoted asshole.” I was sarcastic as I looked at Mike. “He’ll get his, Mike, no use you gettin’ in trouble goin’ after him. Mary Grace, does the sheriff know about this?”

“Yes. He and Mike’s father spent the day tearing down the flyers Spencer had put up around town.” We continued to eat in silence. The thought of the Cutter and his evil, and then Spencer’s condoning that evil in the name of his God, put a pall on breakfast. We finally finished and headed outside. We hugged Mary Grace, and she headed off to the co-op. We got into my truck and headed back to the ranch.

W
E
DECIDED
to turn on the TV and watch a bit of news when we got home. It was one of those gray and cloudy winter days where it couldn’t decide if it wanted to snow or clear up. I built a fire in the fireplace, and Mike made some hot chocolate. I’d just settled on the couch when he brought in two steaming mugs. He cuddled on the couch next to me, and I threw a Pendleton throw blanket over our legs. We were both dressed alike in flannel shirts, jeans, and wool socks. I took a sip of the hot chocolate.

“Mmm… this is good, Mike. Did you put some Bailey’s in it?”

“Yeah, and a bit of amaretto too.”

“Well, it’s a nice combination.” He leaned against me, and I put my arm around him. We shared a kiss. I could taste the hot chocolate on him.

“It’s nice to have some time for just us. It seems since the dudes started comin’ and I got to study for my GED, it’s been harder and harder to get some quality time with ya.”

“Ain’t that the truth. This is nice though, just bein’ all cuddled up together.”

“Ya know, Jeff, I never had imagined before that I’d enjoy bein’ all wrapped up with another guy. I mean, I knew I was gay, and I had lots of hang-ups about it, but even when I fantasized, I never pictured cuddlin’.”

“I ain’t too much of a touchy-feely guy either, but, buddy, I just love touchin’ you. I reckon the fact we enjoy each other so much oughta tell us somethin’, eh?”

“It sure does.” He snuggled closer, and we settled in to watch the news. The news out of Seattle is always interesting. Although it’s got more violent crime than the valley, it’s real tame compared to the news when I lived in San Francisco. The big item today was some guy in the Queen Anne neighborhood of Seattle had taught his golden retriever, “Sunshine,” how to snowboard. We were both laughing over that when a special newsbreak came on.

“This news item just in. This morning in San Juan Capistrano, California, a police officer was kidnapped while on patrol. He had radioed in, stating that he was helping a motorist in distress. There were no additional calls from him. His dash camera just showed the same scene. A second patrol car sent to the scene found no trace of the officer and his unit was empty with the motor running and the driver’s door open. Here at the scene is News Five’s reporter, Frank Jones. Frank?”

“Thanks, Peter. I’m News Five’s reporter, Frank Jones, here on the scene of the missing patrolman. It appears that the patrolman, Officer Nate Hughes, stopped to help someone who was having car trouble and was overpowered and taken from the scene. It seems that some of the kidnapping was captured on the patrol car’s camera. Just how much, however, is not being disclosed by the police at this time.”

“That’s really a shocker, Frank. Any information on the officer himself?”

“Yes, it is, Peter. Very shocking. The missing officer, Officer Hughes, is a seven-year veteran of the San Juan Capistrano police force. His wife, Pam, and his two children, Scott, four, and Andrea, three, are anxiously awaiting his return. If you have any information, please call the number listed below. Peter, one concerning theory is that officer Hughes is the latest victim of the West Coast Cutter.”

“Frank, I thought that the Cutter only went after gay men, and especially those who were street kids or might not be missed.”

“The FBI has just issued a new bulletin about the Cutter. It appears that his targets have been men in general. Although it seems that a disproportionate number of his victims have been gay men, the FBI now feels that it has been easier for him to, ‘pick them up’, so to speak. If the missing police officer is indeed a victim of the Cutter, it seems he is going after more challenging prey.”

“That’s a possibility, Frank. The only survivor of the Cutter attacks is here in Washington. And although he’s a gay man, he’s young, athletic, and in great shape. Maybe the Cutter is going after challenges. It’s time for a station break, but next we will continue our report on the West Coast Cutter. The FBI now believes that he is responsible for quite a few more additional murders, possibly up to forty.” The news story continued. I looked at Mike.

“I hope this is a big mistake, and the officer is okay.”

“You and me both, Jeffy. He’s got kids. I really hope you’re right and this is some sort of mistake.”

“Forty guys. What kind of a sicko could do something like that?”

“I can’t even imagine. Remember what Holder said? That serial killers lotta times are just like the guy next door. They’re so ordinary that no one would even suspect ’em.”

“I reckon that if the police officer was attacked by the Cutter, he’s down by San Diego in Southern California.” Mike looked at me seriously.

“As long as he stays away from here. Are you scared, Jeff?” I had to stop and think about that one. To an extent, I guess I was, but it also seemed like a surreal type of situation. I knew that Mike was referring to the note and pictures that I’d gotten. It seemed so farfetched that a serial killer would focus on just one person, and that person was me.

“Mike, I can’t say I don’t think about the threat, but it seems kind of far away. I was more scared when the rustlers were tryin’ to kill us. This is kinda like fightin’ a cloud.”

“Between you and me, Jeffy, we’ll be fine. He’ll have to go through me to get to you.”

I smiled and kissed Mike on the nose. “That does make me feel a lot better, Mike. I know you’ll always be there for me. Let’s just hope that he gets caught before he hurts anyone else. The cop included.”

Just then there was a knock at the back door. Mike jumped up and got it and was followed in by Sheriff Johnston. He took one look at the TV and shook his head.

“I imagine you already saw the news?”

“Yes, sir. Every inspiring minute of it.”

“Well then, if you did, Jeff, you saw we have a police officer missing in California.” I just nodded.

“It appears that the Cutter is responsible for the latest abduction. The police vehicle TV camera got the general outline of the abduction. The size and dress of the perp match your descriptions.” He opened a folder he was carrying and handed me a grainy photo. I could see a guy dressed in a hoodie holding a cloth over the nose and mouth of a police officer. Unfortunately, the hood covered the assailant’s face.