Sammy Keyes and the Curse of Moustache Mary (16 page)

I grin at him and say, “Um…Isn't that a little out of your jurisdiction?”

He sighs. “It seems, Samantha, that I'm picking up some of your bad habits.”

I laugh and say, “Okay, but I have to get dressed first.”

He eyes me. “That would be a very good idea.”

So Marissa, Holly, Dot, and I run off, and when we're ready, we find him in his car, talking into his radio. He ten-fours and then blinks at us. “You're not
all
coming…”

I say, “Oh yes we are…!” and before he can argue, we've piled in for our first adventure of the New Year.

FIFTEEN

The world was at the Huntleys'. A fire-department Blazer, a police car, two fire-department pickup trucks, Dallas' motorcycle, and a silver Town Car that said
SUPERSTAR REALTY
on the back doors. Officer Borsch squeezes his cruiser alongside the Town Car and parks, half off the driveway.

“You girls stay put. I'm going to try to explain the situation to Mr. Huntley and see if he'll allow you to show me where you saw that can.” He powers down the windows a few inches, then gets out and says, “Stay!” like we're a pack of dogs he doesn't want escaping.

We gawk out the windows for a while, but there's not much to see because everyone seems to be down at the cabin. So after a few minutes of talking about the police car and the gadgets all over it, Marissa and Dot start talking about Casey—how cute he is; how no guys they knew would go through all that trouble to try and deliver a skateboard; how I've got to straighten things out with him because no guy does what he did unless he
likes
you. And I do my best to change the subject back to who-doyou-suppose-burned-down-Mary's-cabin, but they're seriously tuned in to the Love Channel, and my remote control is just not working.

And pretty soon I'm on beyond arguing with them, so they start talking about me like I'm not even there. Then Marissa says, “Well, it sure beats having a crush on Brandon.”

That turns my tuner. “What!?”

Marissa looks at me. “Sorry.”

“Who says I have a crush on Brandon?”

“You don't have to
say
it.”

“Marissa, he's in high school!”

She shrugs. “So?”

“So he's way too old for me!”

“C'mon, Sammy—if you can't tell us, who
can
you tell?”

Nobody. It was too stupid. It had always been too stupid. Which is why no matter what she said, no matter what she thought, I could not,
would
not have a crush on Brandon McKenze. “Can we talk about something else? You guys are making a monster out of a mouse.”

“Squeak! Squeak!”

“Eeeek!!!”

I roll my eyes and say, “Oh, shut up,” and before they can say anything back, there's a
tap-tap-tap
on the window.

We all whip around and there, peeking in at us with a little smile on her face, is Lucinda. She opens a door and says, “So glad you girls came by. Why don't you come out?”

I say, “We uh…we have direct orders not to.”

“You do, do you?”

“Officer Borsch says someone complained about us being here.”

“Well, I certainly didn't complain! I wonder who did?”

“Maybe your nephew?”

Lucinda frowns, but doesn't say a word.

Holly says, “Officer Borsch is trying to get permission to let us show him where we found a gas can last night, but he's taking a long time coming back, so I don't know if Kevin's going to let us or not.”

Lucinda doesn't know anything about what's happened, so we have to tell the story all over again. And when we're done, she says, “Get out of the car.”

“But—”

“Get out. I don't care what your police friend says, I don't care what my nephew says. This world is full of nitwits and leeches, and there are plenty of them assembled here today. They talk to me like I'm five years old, then pat my hand and walk away. They'd rather talk to someone who doesn't know a tree from a toadstool than take the time to gather some background to figure the situation out. I told 'em it was the Murdocks. I told 'em what Dorene and her ma said, but none of them seem to want to
listen
.”

We scoot out of the car, but Dot says, “We're still going to be in a lot of trouble if Officer Borsch comes back and we're not here.”

“Why?” Lucinda asks. “This is my property, and if I say you're welcome, you're welcome. I'll have to have a talk with Kevin when this tribe decides to leave, but for right now I want you to show me just where you found that can. If they won't get to the bottom of this, I will.”

It's funny. I've always thought that the reason adults didn't pay attention to what I had to say was because I
wasn't one of them. But here was the oldest person I'd ever met talking like she had the same problem, and it gave me a terrible thought: Maybe things
wouldn't
get better as I got older; maybe they'd only get worse.

We closed up the car and followed Lucinda down the dirt path to the cabin. And I don't know why, but the rubble looked even more depressing during the day than it had at night. Maybe black on black doesn't look so
dark,
I don't know, but in the bright light of day, what was left of Mary's cabin looked creepy. Wicked.

We stayed back for a minute, watching. Kevin was talking with a small man in a suit, and judging by Kevin's head shaking back and forth, the two of them were disagreeing about something. Then there was Officer Borsch, having a powwow with another policeman and two other men. Dallas was by himself, kind of kicking through the rubble, and you could tell he was thinking really hard about something. He sees us and waves, then comes over and keeps his voice down as he says to Lucinda, “Is there anything I can do? I feel so bad about this whole thing.”

Lucinda nods. “I heard the fire chief talking about a bulldozer this morning. Whose idea was that?”

Dallas fiddles with the tusk on his necklace and says, “I…I'm not sure. You'll have to ask Kevin,” but you can tell from the way he's looking down that the idea's Kevin's. All Kevin's.

“Why does he want to do that?”

Dallas scratches his forehead and sighs. “I think he thinks it'll make it easier on you.”

“Well, it doesn't!”

He glances at us and says, “Uh, my understanding is Kevin's not wild about these kids being here…”

“He doesn't have to be wild about it, but he'd better get used to it.” Then she tells him all about us finding the gas can and grumbles to him about nitwits and leeches.

He says something about her being too hard on people doing their jobs and then asks us to tell him about the gas can. So we do, and when we're all done, he says, “Are you sure it's not still down there? Maybe you just couldn't find it back in the dark?”

I say, “We searched,” and Holly adds, “But maybe. We did get kinda spooked.”

He says, “So let's have a look.”

I say, “Um, maybe you can send that policeman over here first?”

“Which one?”

“The big one.”

So Dallas interrupts Officer Borsch's powwow, and when he sees us standing underneath the tree, he marches over and says, “I thought I told you to stay…!”

I shrug. “I know, but Lucinda found us panting for air and let us out for a walk.”

Lucinda puts out a hand. “Lucinda Huntley. Descendant of Mary Rose Huntley, the pioneer who built that cabin.”

Officer Borsch barely shakes her hand. “You're better today, I see.”

“I've composed myself, young man. That doesn't erase the tragedy. I intend to get to the bottom of this, and if you're going to stand there and tell me why things
can't
be done, maybe you should just step aside.”

The slits Officer Borsch sports for eyes were open wider than I'd ever seen them. He turns to me and says, “Just exactly what have you been telling this woman?”

“Nothing! Really!”

Lucinda says, “They've told me about the gas can, and what I don't understand is why someone isn't scouring that ravine now, looking for pyroglyphics or pyrotechnics or whatever you people call fire starters.”

“Your nephew, ma'am, is the reason. He doesn't seem to want to be interrupted, and I didn't think it wise to proceed without him.”

Lucinda gives Kevin a disgusted look and says, “Well, this property is still mine, and I want that ravine searched.”

“Okay then.” Officer Borsch turns to me and says, “Sammy—was it metal or plastic?”

“Metal.”

“New? Old? Describe it the best you can.”

“It seemed pretty new. It was rectangular, red and silver, and had GASOLINE printed across it. On a diagonal.”

“Did it have a spout?”

“No spout and no lid.”

“Okay. Show me the area where you remember seeing it.”

Dallas eyes Kevin and says, “You still might want to get Kevin to agree…it would make things easier in the long run.”

Officer Borsch nods and leads the way over to Kevin. He interrupts with, “Excuse me, Mr. Huntley…”

Kevin looks at Officer Borsch, then Lucinda and the
rest of us. And before he can start about how come we're trespassing on his property, Officer Borsch says, “Your aunt has granted these girls permission to point out the area where they say they discovered a gas can last night. Do you mind if we conduct a search?”

To everyone's surprise, Kevin says, “That's fine.”

He goes back to talking with Slick Suit, and the rest of us shrug and head for the ravine. I spot the rock we'd left as a marker, then point down the hill. “Right down there. About halfway.”

The ravine is covered with oak leaves, and as you step down, you sink past your ankle, sometimes clear up to your shin. Officer Borsch takes a few steps and says, “How did you ever see it, at night, in all of this mulch?”

“Penny showed it to us.”

He stops. “Penny? Who's Penny?”

“Lucinda's pig.”

The minute it came out of my mouth I knew it sounded ridiculous. Officer Borsch bows his head, and his voice is hoarse as he says, “Tell me you didn't just say pig.” Lucinda says, “She's a very smart pig, young man.” She turns to Dallas. “Isn't that so?”

Dallas shrugs and nods, so Officer Borsch sighs and says, “I'm sure she is, ma'am.” Then he looks at me. “Okay, Sammy. I'm going to rewind. I'm going to try to forget that I ever asked, okay?”

“Yes sir.”

“You found the can right down here. About halfway?”

“That's right.”

He crunches his way down the ravine muttering, “Our
next witness? Yes, Your Honor. We call Penny the Pig to the stand…”

So we watch Officer Borsch search the area, first with his hands, then by poking a stick into the mulch all around him. And while he's searching, Kevin comes over to watch.

Lucinda asks him, “Who
is
that man you were talking to?”

Kevin's quiet for a minute, just watching. But he knows Lucinda's got both eyes on him, so finally he says, “He's a real-estate agent. There's been an offer on the property.”

“
Our
property?”

“That's right.”

“But it's not on the market!”

He shakes his head and sighs. “They've been interested for a while. They approached me about six months ago—”

Lucinda interrupts him. “Why didn't you ever say anything?”

“You were ill, remember? And I knew there was no sense in discussing it. Not with Mary's cabin standing.”

“You told them that?”

“Well, sure. I explained how important the property was to you and that you wouldn't be interested in selling it. But Aunt Lucinda, now that the cabin's gone, there's nothing left tying us here. I know you're on this crusade to prove that the Murdocks burned the place down, but even if they did, it won't bring the cabin back.” Very quietly he adds, “If you ask me, this whole thing might be a blessing.”

“How can you
say
that?”

“Aunt Lucinda, you've been living in the past for years.
Decades! I admire Mary, but she's gone. Long gone. Don't you ever want to get out of this place and enjoy what's left of your life?”

She looks up at him and says, “Are you speaking about me or about you?”

He pushes back the brim of his hat and sighs. “If you look at the financial reality of it, we have to do
something
. The crops have been miserable for the past three years, and—”

“But this vineyard produced the finest grapes in the county—perhaps the state!”

“Aunt Lucinda, again, you're living in the past.”

Lucinda crosses her arms, thinking. Then she turns to Kevin and says, “It must be a pretty penny they're offering.”

He whispers, “Half a million.”

Lucinda scowls. “And where do
we
go? To the city? Or are you planning to just check me in to an old folks' home and be done with it?”

“You know I would never do that! The reason I've held on so long is because of you.”

“Hmmm,” she says. “What do real-estate agents get these days? Ten percent? Fifteen? Tidy little commission, don't you think?”

Kevin looks down. “I told him we weren't interested.”

“And yet he was here. On New Year's Day, no less.”

“Like I said, I told him we weren't interested.”

Lucinda gives him a little smile. “But he knows you'relying. Leeches can always find the soft spot.”