Borderland (6 page)

"Got
any beer?" Nolan asked.

The man
frowned. "Don't serve it before five."

Nolan
glanced at his watch. "It's five now."

"Not
on that clock." The man pointed to a yellowed clock on the wall behind the
cash register. "Says five to." He turned his attention back to Andy.
"How about a big glass of lemonade? Does that sound good?"

Andy
looked at Vic, who nodded. "Make it three, please."

Nolan
opened his mouth, but the old man ignored him and went about filling three
glasses with ice. "Don't get many visitors out here. Denke's a ways off
the beaten path, if you know what I mean."

"Sure
is," Vic said.

"Are
you Jinx?" Christa asked.

"More
like Goober," Nolan muttered under his breath.

The old
man turned and handed Christa her lemonade. "I'm Jinx all right, honey.
What's your name?"

"Christa.
And this is Andy."

Jinx's
face creased into a smiling frown. "Andy? What kind of name is that for a
pretty little girl?"

Andy's grin
was shy. "My name's really Andrea."

"I
shoulda guessed," the old man said as he retrieved the other drinks.
"And this must be your daddy," he said with a nod at Vic. "You
both look just like him. And he looks like someone else I used to know. You
wouldn't be a Kimmler, would you?"

"Yes,
Vic said as he took his lemonade. He was a bit surprised. "Did you know my
father?"

"Everyone
knew Darwin. Sorry to lose him, too. He was a good man."

"Excuse
me," Nolan said.

"Ain't
five yet," Jinx snapped. He turned back to Vic. "I heard you were
comin' out, but I didn't know anything about these two precious little
darlin's. Darwin never spoke of 'em, and I can't imagine why. You're just a
couple of cuties, aren't you?"

Christa
frowned and looked away from him. "You want a drink of my lemonade, Uncle
Nolan?"

"No
thanks," Nolan said. "It's five o'clock and I believe I'll have a
beer."

Jinx
looked at him for the first time. "Are you kin to these folk?"

"Coors,
if you have it," Nolan replied.

Vic
heard the warning note in his voice. Nolan was about to get pissed.

"I'll
have one too, Jinx," Vic said. "It's been a long drive."

Reluctantly,
Jinx moved down the counter to a top-loading cooler and withdrew two bottles of
Coors.

"You
headin' straight out to Darwin's place from here?" he asked Vic.

"We
planned on it.”

"Well
say hello to
Myra
and
Cal
for me. I haven't seen 'em in a while."

Vic
reached over to hand his beer to Nolan when it looked like Jinx wasn't in a
hurry to move that way. Jinx promptly handed him the other beer.

"Who?"
Vic said.

"
Myra
and Calvin
Callahan. They live in a trailer on your dad's place. He never told you about
'em?"

"No,"
Vic said. "Did they work for him?"

Jinx
leaned against the counter. "
Myra
's husband did. He got kicked in the head and died about a
year and half ago.
Darwin
kinda took her and the boy under his wing after that.
Believe
Myra
kept house for him—" He paused to wink "—if you know what I mean.
Hear he left her a tidy little sum as well. She's been havin' some trouble out
there lately, though. If Ed Kisner knows what he's talkin' about, she fooled
around and let someone get off with the horses, every last damn one of
'em."

When
Vic's intake of breath was judged sufficient, Jinx leaned even closer.
"Ed's the elected law around here, and the way he tells it, she wasn't
near as upset as he reckoned she shoulda been. He's suspectin' some kind of
conspiracy. Once she collects that twenty grand, we all figure her to be gone.
And who knows? Maybe there'll be some horses where she's goin'…if you know what
I mean."

Vic slid
off his stool and dug into his hip pocket for his wallet. "How can I find
this Ed Kisner if I need to talk to him?"

Jinx
smiled. "Just go in for a haircut. He's the barber."

“And
probably the circuit judge too," Nolan said.

"Pardon
me?" Jinx said. "You sure like to talk, young fella. I don't believe
I caught your name."

"Nolan
Wulf," Christa volunteered. "He's our friend."

The
muddy brown eyes behind Jinx's glasses narrowed. "So you ain't no
kin?"

Nolan
smiled. "You sure like to snoop…old fella."

Vic
lifted his wallet. "How much do I owe you, Jinx?"

"Seven
dollars even, Mr. Kimmler."

Nolan's
hand dropped to his pocket, but Vic left the money on the counter and told him
to come on. Once in the car, the two men sat and stared at the windshield.
Finally Nolan said, "Nosy old bastard. What do you think about his story?
Gossip or gospel?"

Vic
shook his head. A pounding had begun in his temples. "I don't know what to
think. If those horses are gone I won't be able to…  Dammit, Nolan, can't anything
ever…does everything have to…” His shoulders sagged and he dropped his head
back against the seat. He felt as if his legs had been kicked out from under
him before he'd even learned to stand.

Nolan
started the engine. "I'll tell you what I think. I think we should go see
this gold-digging bitch and find out what the fuck she's up to."

"Watch
your language," Christa murmured from the back. She scooted forward to lay
a comforting hand on Vic's arm.

Andy
sighed. "Does this mean we don't have any horses? Is that what Mr. Jinx
said, Daddy?"

Vic took
a deep breath and forced himself to sit up. "I don't know what it means,
honey. But I guess we'll find out. Let's go, Nolan."

CHAPTER 4

Myra
yawned as she tossed the last of the bloodied cleaning
rags into her washer. She hadn't slept well in
Darwin
's bed last night.
Cal
hadn't slept much either. Sounds in the house and a
post-traumatic wariness kept both of them wide-eyed and restless. At one point
she could have sworn she heard a woman scream, but when she looked at
Cal
he appeared to have
heard nothing.
Myra
chalked it up to her imagination and blocked her ears to
the scrapes, creaks, and groans of the sixty-year-old house. It was the first time
either of them had spent the night in
Darwin
's home and both hoped it would be the last.

The
cleaning of their mobile home had taken most of the day. The goat's remains
were placed in a trash barrel by the barn and burned.
Cal
had done most of the
grisly work concerning the removal of entrails and organs. The boy often hunted
game with
Darwin
and the sight of dead things didn't affect him as it did
Myra
. She couldn't
handle it. The expression in the eyes always got to her.

She
poured in the detergent and was ready to start the washer when she heard a
shout from
Cal
.
Without hesitation she drew the pistol from the waistband of her jean shorts
and flew toward the door. She burst outside to see
Cal
holding the shotgun
on two men in a dirty white convertible. The men did not look happy. As she
neared the car she spied two dark-haired little girls in the back seat,
Darwin
's granddaughters.

"Cal,
its Mr. Kimmler."

Cal
glanced at her. "Are you sure?"

The driver
was out of the car and had the shotgun in his bandaged hands before either
Cal
or
Myra
could move.

"I
ought to beat your ass with this thing, kid," he said to
Cal.
"I'd ask you
where you learned your manners, but I can see for myself."

Myra
stepped forward and the bandaged hand shot out once more
to relieve her of the pistol. The driver tossed it to the man in the car, who
caught it with one hand. He shoved it in his waistband and climbed out of the
car.

"Who
do you think you are, lady?"

"I'm
Myra Callahan," she said nervously. "And this is my son, Cal. Are you
Vic Kimmler?"

"Yes,
I am, and I hope you've got a damn good reason for making a snot-nosed kid
stand guard with a shotgun."

"I'm
thirteen,"
Cal
said defiantly. "And she didn't make me do anything.
I was—"

"
Cal
."
Myra
put a hand on his
shoulder. "We have to talk, Mr. Kimmler."

"You
got that right. You've got a lot of explaining to do."

Myra
bristled at his tone. "Look, I'm sorry about the
guns, but if you'll just calm down I'll explain. There's no reason to be
so—"

"I've
got plenty of reasons," Kimmler interrupted. "And they start with the
rumor that my father's horses have all disappeared since his death."

"They
didn't disappear,"
Cal
said. "They were stolen."

Myra
was frowning. "Who told you, Mr. Kimmler?"

Before
Vic could answer, Andy stood up in the back seat. "Daddy, I have to go.
Can we get out?"

The
blond man looked at her and groaned. "Andy, I've asked you not to stand up
in the seat, dammit." He handed the shotgun to Kimmler and went to lift
the little girl out of the car. The other girl climbed over the door and stood
looking at
Myra
.
"She looks like you, Uncle Nolan."

Myra
raised a brow and looked closer at him. He met her gaze
and deliberately let his travel from her dusty bare feet to the skin revealed
by the low cut of her cotton top.

She
pegged him in a second. Arrogance and confidence oozed from his pores. He was a
player with an attitude and an ego as big as
Texas
. She knew the type. She had been married to one just like
him.

Darwin
's son was of more interest to her at the moment. Vic
Kimmler had his father's dark, probing eyes and tall, angular frame. He also
had
Darwin
's
patient, forgiving mouth, which made her feel suddenly comfortable in spite of
his display of animosity toward her.

As she
watched, he handed the shotgun back to his friend and turned away to lead his
daughter over the drive to the porch of the house. He paused in front of the
door and fumbled in his pocket, probably for the key the lawyer had collected
to send to him,
Myra
guessed.

"It's
open," she said.

Kimmler
turned to look at her. "Why?"

"I…we
had to sleep there last night,"
Myra
replied. "I'll tell you why when we talk."

His eyes
narrowed, then he looked away from her and shoved open the door. The older girl
followed them up the steps.
Myra
glanced around and saw the blond looking over his car and
muttering under his breath.
Cal
watched him with a smirk that quickly became a nervous
twitch as the man turned suddenly and spoke to him.

"Whose
shotgun is this?"

"It
was
Darwin
's,"
Cal
answered.

"Did
he give it to you, or did you just take it?"

Cal
opened his mouth, but
Myra
stepped in front of him. "Why are you treating us
like criminals? We haven't done anything."

Gray-blue
eyes leveled on her. "Don't fuck with me, lady. Vic is Mr. Congeniality
compared to me. If it was my decision, I'd kick your thieving little ass right
out of here."

Myra
gave
Cal
a shove and told him to go inside the trailer. When he was
gone, she turned back to meet the hard gaze. "Don't speak that way to me
again. Tell me what I'm being accused of and why."

He held
up the shotgun. "Just borrowing it?"

"Yes,"
she said flatly.

He
nodded. "Well, I couldn't help noticing that it's been fired recently. At
what? Or should I ask whom?"

"I'm
not going to say it twice,"
Myra
said. "I don't know who you are, or what your
connection to Mr. Kimmler is, but I have nothing to say to you. And you can
keep the stupid gun for all I care."