Just Down the Road (19 page)

Tinch almost felt sorry for the man. Tyler Wright seemed a man of order. He’d never seen him when his shirt wasn’t pressed or his tie not perfectly tied. The funeral director always seemed a model for the perfect gentleman.

“How is Kate?” Liz asked, as if they were just in the funeral home director’s office to visit. “I hear she’s retiring from the army soon.”

“She’s off working somewhere right now, so I’m not sure how she is at the moment.” Worry wrinkled his forehead. “Top secret stuff, you know. But she promised me she’d be home in a month. I’m counting the days, I can tell you.”

Tinch had no idea what the man was so worried about. Tyler was one of those people who seemed to care about everyone. He wasn’t surprised the man worried about his housekeeper, but she wasn’t likely to get too lost in Harmony, and his future wife didn’t look like the type who would be sent on a dangerous mission just before retirement.

Sitting down behind his desk, Tyler opened his book as if signaling that it was time to get down to business. Then he turned to them with his caring gaze and asked, “How may I help?”

Tinch waited a few heartbeats, hoping Liz would explain, but when that didn’t happen, he began. “My wife’s sister died, and I think my wife would like it if she could be buried close to her.”

The funeral director nodded. “I’ve already checked with the cemetery, and there is a pair of plots just east of where your Lori Anne rests.”

Tinch thought of screaming that his wife wasn’t resting, but he knew the funeral director was just trying to be kind.

Tyler began to write. “The sheriff told me her name was Sadie Noble; do you know her birthday?”

“No.”

“Was she ever married?”

“I don’t think so.” Tinch realized how little he knew.

“Her license listed her birth date as June 3, 1987, and she renewed it a few years ago still using the name Noble,” Liz offered. “I’ve talked with the records office in Kansas City, and they have no record of her ever filing for a marriage license.”

Tinch looked at Liz. He’d always thought of her as an airheaded cheerleader type who’d never grown up, but suddenly he realized he was wrong.

Tyler wrote down the information. “So, do you want just her dates of birth and death on her small stone?”

“No,” Tinch decided. “Add ‘
Loving mother of Jamie
.’” He wanted the boy to know that no matter what happened with the results of the autopsy, his mother loved him. “And Jamie told me his mother’s middle name was Ann. I’d like that added also.”

Tyler smiled. “That sounds nice. Now, moving on.”

Tinch lifted his hand. “Mr. Wright,” he said. “I’d like everything else set up just like my Lori Anne had. Same casket, same flowers. Everything. When the body is returned and the paperwork is done, schedule a service in the chapel.”

As always, the funeral director seemed to understand. “I’ll take care of the details and let you know.”

As Tyler stood to walk them out, Liz leaned forward in her chair. “Mr. Wright, would it be all right if I talked with my cousin for a few minutes longer? We’d like to use your office.”

“Of course, dear.” He hurried out, probably to go check on his housekeeper.

Tinch stared at Liz, trying to guess what she knew that couldn’t wait. “What did you find out about Sadie Noble?” he asked directly.

She shook her head. “Nothing, but if you want, I could hire someone to tell us what the police report won’t.”

“I’d like that. If the boy is going to stay with me, I’ll need to know as much about his life before as possible. If there is a direct relative claiming him, I want to know he’ll be safe there.”

“The boy got to you.” Liz grinned.

Tinch thought of arguing, but he couldn’t lie. “I just want to know he’ll be taken care of. I don’t think I’d be any good at it, but I want to make sure no one ever hurts him again.” He smiled. “The kid’s something, Liz. He likes to tickle horses under the chin, and then
he
laughs. Near as I can tell, he’s had shit for a life, being moved around by a mother on drugs who didn’t even make sure he had food all the time, but he still finds such wonder. He’s four years old and he already knows what death is.”

Liz put her hand on Tinch’s arm. “I’ll do everything I can; in the meantime, you’ve got to keep him safe and I have an idea that might help. My husband and his friend who bought Gabe’s old place were specially trained to install security. It might be worth our time to install something that will let you know if anyone uninvited comes on your property.”

They spent a few more minutes talking, and then Tinch followed her out on Lone Oak Road to Denver Sims’s place. Denver and Liz’s husband, Gabe, had been in the army together. They knew security. Within an hour they’d given him a list of everything he could do and packed Tinch’s pickup with tools.

The two men followed Tinch home, and by dark they had a gate put up on the entrance to his property. One step onto his land was wired with sensors that set off a chime that sounded in every room of his house and the barn. If anyone drove onto his land, he’d know it.

When he finally waved them good-bye and walked back into the house, Tinch felt as tired and dirty as if he’d been working all afternoon with the horses.

Addison sat at the dining table working on her laptop, and Jamie played in the living area twenty feet away, with two boxes of dominoes he’d found.

“Thanks for staying with him,” he said as he sat down.

“I didn’t mind. Jamie’s nice company.” She stretched her long legs across one of the other chairs. “We walked around your place and then went through your drawers looking for something for him to play with.”

“Good. Find out all my secrets?”

She raised her pen and tapped her cheek. “Of course. Apparently, I was wrong about you. Completely wrong. You read books about horses, nothing R-rated. Play stock market games all day on your computer and have no tobacco or junk food in your house. Which, by the way, is carrying being good way too far, in my opinion.”

He shrugged. “Sorry to disappoint you. I grew up an only child who lived in order. I used to think it gave me control, but I gave up on believing that a few years ago.”

“If you’re wild, Tinch Turner, one would never know it from your life here.”

He didn’t like talking about himself. “Any chance you found anything for supper, Doc?”

“Jamie didn’t want to eat until you came in. We made sandwiches. I told him we could eat and watch an old John Wayne movie we found under your TV.”

Tinch smiled. “I’ve been looking for that movie. I’ll clear the dominoes off the coffee table if you’ll bring the food in. We’ll have a wild night.”

Halfway across the wide living area, Jamie looked up and noticed Tinch coming from the kitchen. The boy jumped up, spilling dominoes everywhere as he ran to hug his uncle. They both held on tight for a moment. The world might be shifting constantly around them, but they had each other.

When he let go, Tinch said, “You want to help the doc bring in those sandwiches or help me pick up the mess you just made?”

“I’ll help her,” Jamie whispered. “She needs a lot of help in the kitchen.”

Tinch laughed. “Good idea. I’ll meet you in front of the TV.”

Halfway through the movie, Jamie was sound asleep, his head on Addison’s leg and his feet in Tinch’s lap.

“How’d he do this afternoon?” Tinch asked as he muted the TV.

“He cried a few times. Told me not to tell you because you’d think he was a baby.” She stroked the little boy’s hair. “He asked about you every half hour. I think he was afraid you’d go away for good like everyone else in his life.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He lifted Jamie over his shoulder and took him upstairs. If he stayed here, Tinch decided he’d fix up one of the bedrooms down the hall from his room, but for now, if the boy woke up, he wanted to be close. From the few things Addison had said while they ate, he knew she felt the same way.

When he came back down, Addison was curled up on the couch sound asleep. He thought of telling her he could handle this tonight, and she could go on home. Neither of them had slept more than a few hours last night. But Tinch didn’t want to say good-bye to her and he was too tired to think about why.

He took her hand and pulled her slowly to her feet. “Come on, darlin’,” he said. “It’s time to call it a night.”

She mumbled something as he guided her up the stairs. “I laid a shirt out for you to sleep in if you want to get out of those scrubs,” he said, as if having a woman in his bedroom were a normal night. “The bathroom is that way.”

When she came out of the bath, Tinch lay on one side of the king-size bed. Jamie was curled up in the middle. He watched through slits as she slowly lifted the covers and slipped into the other side.

He planned to stay awake and listen to her breathing, but he fell asleep within seconds, too tired to even think about how good the doc looked wearing nothing but an old flannel western shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the first few snaps left undone.

S
ATURDAY

O
CTOBER
1

B
EAU BEGAN SKIPPING HIS CLASSES TO WRITE SONGS DURING
the day, and then he’d meet Willow, no matter how late, after she got off work. They didn’t talk as much as he figured most couples did. They just drove out to some isolated spot and made out. They went about as far as a couple can go and not have sex. Willow was willing, but all those sermons his father had pounded into him for years kept Beau from going all the way.

That, and the fear that she might get pregnant and he’d be tied to someone forever. He liked Willow, but they’d pretty much run out of anything to talk about by the third date, and he couldn’t see not talking to someone sleeping next to him for the rest of his life. Once he asked Willow what she thought would happen if she did get pregnant, and
she said it wouldn’t matter. Beau didn’t know much, but he knew it would matter.

Some nights he thought he’d lose his mind. He was so close to losing control. He wrote a song about standing on the edge, wanting to fall. Border thought it was about suicide and started watching Beau like a warden. Willow was the only one who knew what the song was about, but she told him she didn’t like the idea of him writing something about their personal lives. She said her mother said it sounded a lot like bragging to everyone about what they’d done.

That night they didn’t park out in the dark or talk. He just drove her home.

Beau spent the next two days working on a song about the deafening sound of silence and how sometimes a man feels alone even when he’s holding someone’s hand. When he picked her up on her day off, they drove to the duplex and he played both songs, then tried not to act disappointed that she didn’t want to hear them again.

They kissed awhile on the couch at the Biggs brothers’ duplex and got about as naked as a couple can get and still be ready to look dressed by the time someone unlocked the door. When he drove her home, she wanted to continue the heavy breathing session, but for once Beau needed to talk.

After he asked a few times, Willow finally said she didn’t like either of the new songs. She suggested he write about something else, like the weather, or prison, or train rides. He told her he couldn’t.

The next night when he drove out to pick her up, she’d already left.

Beau felt like they’d broken up and somehow he’d missed the fight. He sat in the truck stop parking lot and wrote words on scraps of paper about being too dumb to date and how it was hard to break a never-was.

The next Wednesday night he went along with the Biggs boys to the old bed-and-breakfast where their grandmother worked. She always cooked for them on Wednesdays when there were no guests staying at the Winter’s Inn. Beau went along for the meal and because Border thought it might cheer him up.

He loved Mrs. Biggs’s cooking, but like everyone he just tolerated the old lady who owned the place. Martha Q Patterson was one of those people who seemed to have lived several lifetimes in her almost sixty years. No matter what anyone talked about, she had an experience to tell. She also had the habit of one-upping every story. If someone said he broke his leg, Martha Q had had her leg fall off. If someone said she’d fallen in love with a guy from France, Martha Q would relate how she once had an affair with twins from France who didn’t speak a word of English. She thought of herself as the star in this life and all others were simply bit players.

So when Beau found himself sitting alone with her in the parlor, he decided to ask for advice. Why not? He couldn’t feel much more depressed about breaking up with Willow or missing the fight they should have had to end it. Plus, he figured, listening to Martha Q ramble along about what all he did wrong would somehow serve as penance. He figured it had to be some kind of sin to touch a girl like he touched Willow, even if she was doing her share of the touching.

He sat on the edge of his chair, waiting for her to build her nest with pillows. The room was a mixture of cowboy western and Victorian. If Queen Victoria married John Wayne, they’d probably hire Martha Q to decorate.