A Hummingbird Dance (18 page)

“That's one of the reasons why we bought this place.” Arthur sat opposite from Lane.

“New house, new dog, new family.” Lane was surprised as anyone at what he'd said.

“Is that why you didn't want us to get a dog, after what happened to Riley and what happened to your family?” Matt asked.

Lane thought for a moment. “Maybe. You get close and then …”

“Tell me about it. I know exactly what you mean.” Christine lifted her glass to look at the sunset through the wine.

“It's always about you. You never think of anyone else, do you?” Matt glared at Christine.

Amanda laughed. “You two really are like brother and sister. Always bickering. Just like me and my brothers. Always reading more into what's said than is actually there.”

“And sticking up for one another. Like after the dance.” Arthur lifted his glass and drained it.

“Did she tell you?” Matt looked sideways at Christine.

“Christine didn't tell us anything. We have eyes. We could see what was going on. She had your back,” Lane said.

“Oh, I forgot. You're a detective.” Matt looked for Roz who wagged her tail, put her paws on the arm of his chair and licked his face.

“Don't get mad at Uncle Lane! He didn't do anything!” Christine said.

Roz moved to Christine and licked her face.

“See what I mean?” Amanda raised her wine to see what was so interesting about the sunset, then she looked through the glass at Matt and Christine.

“I do.” Lane raised his glass and saw the pinks of the sunset accented by the legs of white wine in his glass and thought,
Things just never turn out the way you expect them to
.

The phone rang.

Christine got up and went inside. A few seconds later, she poked her head out the back door. “It's for you, Uncle Lane.”

Lane got up and went into the kitchen.
It must be ten degrees warmer in here
, he thought. “Hello.”

“It's me,” Harper said.

“What's up?” Lane sat down.

“Christine tells me the party is going well.”

“It has its ups and downs.”

“She says you're getting a little wild and crazy.” Harper sounded pleased.

“A little bit.”

“The
DNA
results are in.”

“And?”

“Lombardi's blood and hair are a match. It looks like Blake killed him. And Rosco, the dog, was a match as well.”

Lane thought for a moment. “So the most reasonable conclusion is that Blake killed Lombardi and then the dog.”

“You think the dog tried to protect Lombardi?” Harper asked.

“Probably.”

THURSDAY, JULY 11

“We need to talk with Norm, Eva, and Aidan.” Lane watched as the houses abruptly ended and fields opened up. The further they travelled, the more horses they would see. The last time, he'd seen a pair of colts racing side by side along a fence line. Lane thought,
I hope they're out again
.

“There's a coyote.” Harper pointed to his side of the highway.

Lane looked to his left.

The coyote was the colour of sage. It trotted along the shoulder before darting into the ditch and disappearing into some brush.

“Wanna stop at the gas station?” Harper asked.

“Good idea. Everybody needs fuel. It's a good place
to find out what's going on around here.” Lane spotted the Super Service station sign. The fifties architecture was becoming avant-garde. The reliance on metal, glass, and stucco had preserved the structure for more than half a century. A fresh coat of white paint and green trim had done the rest. It was becoming a Mecca for the workers and residents of the new development across the highway and down the road.

They pulled up and parked on the east side of the station. Lane spotted a couple near the outdoor freezer. The eyes of the teenaged boy met Lane's. To the detective, the boy's eyes were the epitome of boredom. The girl was a second skin wrapped around the boy. Lane couldn't see the back of her head, but it looked like she was working on leaving her brand on the boy's neck.

Lane looked down. The boy had his knee between her legs. She moved back and forth, rubbing her jeans up against his.

Harper held the door open. “Coming?”

Lane smiled at the joke and walked through the door.

Harper followed.

The man behind the counter was somewhere between forty and sixty. He had the bread-dough complexion of a smoker and a belly stretching the fabric of his wine-coloured golf shirt.

Harper headed for the coffee. “Want one?”

“Sure.” Lane kept his eyes on the man behind the counter, who returned Lane's stare.

“Cream and sugar?” Harper asked.

“Yes, please.”

Lane read “Al” on the man's nametag and the gold chain around his neck. It was attached to a predatory bird the size of a luxury car's hood ornament. The words “Golden Eagle” hung from the talons of the bird.

“You're the police?” Al asked.

Lane nodded. “You're the ones who came and asked my daughter all those questions?”

“That's correct.” Lane decided to keep his answers short and to the point.

“What do you want besides a cup of coffee?” Al glanced out the window.

It looked to Lane as if Al were keeping an eye on the make-out couple reflected in the curved mirror hanging above the pumps. Lane glanced at the poster of the cowboy on the wall.

“Who do you talk to if you want to get rid of some gophers?” Lane asked.

“Why don't you just come out with it? You want to know who's a good shot around here.” Al challenged Lane with his eyes. “I'm not stupid just because I live out in the country.”

Harper brought the coffees to the counter. “It would save a lot of time if you would tell us.”

Lane pulled out a ten dollar bill and handed it to Al.

Al took the ten, opened the cash register and handed Lane the change.

Al said, “Have a nice day.”

“Who's a good shot around here?” Harper asked.

“Everyone knew Blake and his boys ran Alex down. The problem was, no one could prove it. Now Blake
and his boys are dead. As far as I'm concerned, that's the end of the story. Diggin' deeper into this'll only get people riled up again. You have no idea what people around here'll do when they get riled.” Al closed the cash register. “You gentleman have a nice day.”

Harper started to say more.

Lane smiled and nodded in the direction of the door. He took the coffees from Harper and backed out the door. Lane walked over to the couple making out near the freezer. The boy's eyes studied Lane.

“Do like your coffee black or with cream and sugar?” Lane walked closer to the couple.

The girl turned her round, heavily made-up face to Lane. She said, “I take mine black. He likes cream and sugar.”

Lane handed them each a cup. They watched him warily.

Lane stepped back a metre. “Who's the best shot around here?”

The girl and boy looked at one another, surprised by the question. The girl said, “I think his name is Norm. Drives around on an
ATV
. Lives up there. Close to T'suu T'ina.” She pointed toward the mountains.

“Thanks.” Lane walked to the car. Harper followed. Inside the car, Harper hesitated before turning the key. “So, who do we see first?”

“Eva. She'll know where Norm is.” Lane put his seat belt on.

Harper turned the key and shifted into drive. He tried to joke, but the words came out all wrong. “Better get the vests out, then.”

Eva was in the yard. She was moving three sections of garden hose to the next tree in Alex's remembrance grove. She put her hand over her eyebrows to shade out the sun. When she recognized the car, Lane and Harper, she waved them over. A pair of hummingbirds whizzed past her.

“How come Norm's
ATV
is parked inside the Quonset?” Harper asked as he turned the car around so they could escape easily if it came to that.

Lane took a long look around. He thought,
If it isn't safe, it isn't safe in the car either
. He opened his door.

Harper waited before turning off the engine.

Lane walked toward Eva, who bent to set the hose under one of the trees. Her hand went to her right knee. She used her hand to help push herself back up.

Lane heard the car engine stop. Harper's door opened. Lane did not turn.

Eva walked toward Lane. She neither smiled nor frowned.

Lane saw that she wore running shoes, a T-shirt, and blue jeans. There was mud on her knees.

He looked beyond and around her. Harper was moving to his left; Lane could hear his partner.

Eva said, “Norm's at the rodeo. Drove him there this morning. That's why you're here.”

“How did you know?” Lane asked.

“Got a phone call from Al at the Super Service. Told me you were asking questions about who's the best shot around here.” Eva stood in front of Lane.

Lane heard Harper moving closer.

“Where does he live?” Harper asked.

“South and west of here. About three kilometres.” Eva crossed her arms under her breasts. “Go a little further down the road and turn right. Last house on that road. It's white. Potato garden on the side closest to the road.”

“How come he went to the rodeo?” Lane watched the way Harper kept looking at the evergreen trees Eva was watering.

“To help Aidan. Coffee?”

Lane and Harper looked at one another. They looked around the yard.

“There'll be no more shootin'. No reason for it.” Eva walked toward the house.

“Okay.” Harper followed.

Lane stood on the step as a hummingbird swooped past, stopped near a honeysuckle blossom, and hovered there. Another hummingbird swooped in and attacked the first. Both flew away.

Inside, they took off their shoes while Eva measured water and coffee. “Norm took all the muffins with him. Aidan asked for them special.”

Lane sat down at the table.

Harper watched while Eva fished out coffee cups. He looked at Lane and nodded in Eva's direction. Lane turned as Eva closed the cupboard door.

Eva finished with the coffee maker and reached into the fridge for milk. She brought the milk and sugar to the table. “Got more questions?”

“I've always got lots of those.” Lane smiled.

Eva did the same. “Aidan and Norm are my family.”

“I understand,” Lane said.

“You do?” Eva watched him with an intensity that made Harper shift uncomfortably.

“Yes. Just because they're not your own doesn't mean they're not your family.”

Eva frowned. “Maybe you do understand. Everything is even up now. The boys who killed my grandson are dead. Blake Rogers would have killed you but he's dead. What good does it do to find out the rest?”

Eva poured three cups of coffee and sat down at the table. She sipped her coffee, waiting for Lane and Harper to do the same.

Lane lifted his cup then set it down. He decided that to leave anything unsaid would amount to lying, and she would sense it. “We got a match on the bullet that killed Blake Rogers. It came from the same weapon that wounded me.”

Eva was silent for a moment. “You and your law. My grandson was killed. Everyone knew who did it. No one could prove it. The boys who killed him disappeared or were killed. And Blake Rogers would have killed you.” She pointed at both of them. “Rogers was killed to save the both of you. Everything is even now. Your law won't change that.”

Harper put his cup down. “We know about the land claim. We think that's why Blake Rogers killed Alex. Still, we need to know who killed Rogers.”

“And what good will that do? Who will be helped by this knowledge?” Eva watched Harper closely.

Harper waited for Lane.

Lane looked at Eva. “The families of the missing men will want to know where they are. We need to talk with Norm, and we need to talk with Aidan.”

“They're at the rodeo.” Eva stated the fact in a tone as flat as the prairies to the east.

“The rodeo hasn't started yet,” Harper said.

“Practicin'. Gettin' her show ready.”

Lane looked at her. “The rodeo's a big place.”

“Not that big,” Eva said.

Five minutes later, inside the car, Harper said, “Eva hates guns, right?”

“Yes. She said that.” Lane did up his seat belt.

“Then how come she has three boxes of .22 shells and a bolt action in the same cupboard as her coffee cups?”

Lane leaned on the concrete half-wall of the walkway joining the Saddledome arena and the Roundup Centre where graduations and business shows were held at the Stampede Grounds. He looked over at the Big Four building, then across the parking lot to the back side of the grandstand where fans watched rodeo events every July.

“We've checked it all.” Harper leaned against a pillar.

“Eva doesn't lie,” Lane said. “Then Aidan and Norm must be hiding.” Harper yawned.

“Or we're looking in the wrong place.” Lane watched a white stretch limousine pull up in front of the Roundup Centre. A girl in a prom dress poked her head out of the sun roof.

Harper turned and looked north. A black cloud moved east across the northern edge of the city. “Looks like someone's getting rain.”

Aidan crouched atop the set and manipulated Alex's strings. They were inside the barn. It was filled with the musty scent of hay and mud. Rain pattered against the roof and windows.

“We've got an audience! Hey Norm!” Alex waved.

Norm waved once and crossed his arms. He sat in front of them on a lawn chair.

“Good to see you again.” Alex moved to the edge of the stage.

Norm nodded and leaned back in his lawn chair. He hitched his thumbs in his empty gun belt. “Yep.”