The Shining Badge (32 page)

She stepped inside the door, and as she moved down the hall, she found Missouri rocking Michael. “How was your date?” Missouri asked.

“It was fine.” Jenny hesitated, then turned and said, “Luke asked me to marry him.”

“Are you going to?”

“I don’t know, Missouri. How do you know when it’s right?”

Missouri Ann smiled. “God told me to marry your daddy. That’s a good way.”

Jennifer Winslow hesitated. She bit her lower lip and shook her head. “Well, God hasn’t told me anything, but I wish He would.”

Missouri continued rocking after Jenny had left. She was troubled and did not know why. “Lord,” she said, “you’ve got to help that girl. She really needs it.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

A Matter of Guilt

As Clay pulled up in front of the Winslow house, he saw that the old Studebaker truck bearing a trailer was backed up to the pen where Clara, the prize sow, was kept. “Looks like Clara’s going off to market, Jamie.”

“What does that mean, Daddy?”

“It means she’s gotten big enough to sell and it’s time to sell her. It looks like they’re about ready to load her up.” Getting out of the truck, Clay walked around and, opening the door, picked Jamie up. “You’re getting big too,” he said.

Jamie giggled and puffed her cheeks out. “I am big. See?”

The two crossed the front yard and moved around the side of the house. By the time Clay got to the pen, he could hear Kat’s voice above everything else. As usual she was wearing ratty-looking overalls, and now she was standing in front of her father with a defiant look on her face.

“I don’t want to sell Clara, Daddy!”

“Now, Kat,” Lewis said patiently, “I’ve told you all the time you shouldn’t make a pet out of Clara. We’ve got to sell her to have money to live on.”

“But I love Clara!”

Lewis looked up and saw Clay standing there holding Jamie. “Hello, Clay.”

“Hello, Lewis. A little disagreement here?”

“I told this child she shouldn’t make a pet out of an animal that’s going to be sold, but she’s hardheaded. I think she gets it all from her mother’s side.”

“I am not either hardheaded!” Kat said loudly. She glanced over at Clint, who was grinning and said, “Clint, you don’t want to sell Clara, do you?”

“Well, that’s what we raised her for, Kat.”

“But you like her, don’t you?”

“I’m not overly fond of pigs,” Clint said and shrugged. “I reckon you’ll have to let her go.”

Kat took one look at Clara, who had stuck her snout through the rail and was begging for sweets. Kat’s face twisted, and without a word, she whirled and ran away, disappearing around the house.

“It’s hard on the child,” Lewis said, “but I warned her. She just wouldn’t listen.”

“I remember I had a speckled pup once, and my folks made me get rid of him,” Clint said. “It still hurts even to this day.”

“Well, that’s a little different,” Lewis said fretfully. “We’ve got to sell this hog. Come on. Let’s get her loaded.”

“That’s a mighty big hog,” Clay said, staring at the huge animal. “What if she doesn’t want to get in that trailer?”

“Well, she’s got to and that’s all there is to it.”

Lewis opened the gate to the hog pen and entered, his eyes wary. He lifted his arms and waved them wildly, yelling, “Get! Get on up in there, Clara!”

The sow, which weighed over five hundred pounds, stared at him. She had indeed become a pet, but only a pet of Kat’s. The man waving his arms did not please her, and she moved to one side quickly. Lewis jumped in front of her and called out, “You get in that trailer! You hear me?”

“Maybe I’d better give you a hand,” Clint said quickly.

And as Clint entered the hogpen, Clay put Jamie down and said, “You wait right here, honey. I’ll help the men load the pig.”

The three men formed a circle around Clara, who stared at them with her beady little eyes. She made a wild bolt, and Clint, trying to bar her, was knocked off his feet. He rolled in the dust and yelled, “Cut her off, Clay!”

Dust arose as the three men tried desperately to put the hog up the chute into the bed of the trailer, but she was almost as big as all three of them put together and built low to the ground. Time and again she would simply brush against one or the other of them and knock them down.

“What in the world are you men trying to do?”

Lewis had gotten to his feet, a grim look on his face, and saw Jenny leaning over the fence, staring at him.

“We’re trying to get this blasted animal into the trailer!”

Clay was dusting his uniform off, feeling rather foolish. “I didn’t come out to wrestle hogs, but I was sort of conscripted.”

Jenny looked at them with disdain. “Three grown men can’t put one dumb pig into a trailer? You are so helpless!”

“Well, I’d like to see you try it!” Lewis said grimly.

“Okay, I will. You wait right there and don’t bother Clara anymore. Get out of there and leave her alone.”

“I guess we’d better mind her.” Clint grinned. “When she gets her back up like that, it’s hard to do anything with her. She’s worse than Clara here for bein’ stubborn.”

The three men left the pen, Clint carefully locking the gate. “What do you reckon she’s up to?” he asked.

He did not have to wonder long, for Jenny came back with a sack in her hand.

“What’s in the sack?” Clint asked.

“Apples. Now, you three stay quiet. I’ll take care of Clara.”

Stepping inside the pen, Jenny said soothingly, “Now, Clara, I’ve got a nice apple for you here.” She laid the apple on the ground, and Clara looked at her for a moment, then gave a series of oinks and came up. She chomped down on the apple and looked up eagerly for more. “Here’s another one, Clara. Don’t you like these nice apples?” Jenny laid the apple right at the base of the chute, and Clara at once came forward. She demolished this apple and oinked for more.

“All right. You can have this one.” This time she held it in her hand while Clara took it and ate it hungrily.

“Now, one more time. This one you’ll have to go after.” She held the apple up, and Clara moved to get it, but Jenny moved to stand beside the chute. “Here it is. Come and get it.” She laid the apple right on the lip of the trailer bed, and when Clara went up, she adeptly gave it a touch that sent it rolling toward the front of the trailer. Without a moment’s hesitation, Clara scrambled up the chute and entered the trailer, whereupon Clint, who was waiting, instantly closed the gate.

“I’d think that three grown men could outwit one pig,” Jenny said. Her eyes were sparkling as she came out of the pigpen, and coming to stand before her father, she dusted him off. “The next time you have something difficult to do, come and get me, Daddy.”

Lewis glared at her, then said, “I’m going to take all the money from this hog and buy myself something nice instead of buying you a present!” he said. Stiffly he walked around, got into the truck, accompanied by Clint, who grinned and waved. As the truck moved away with Clara rending the air with shrill piggish squeals, Clay shook his head with admiration. “That was slick, Sheriff. Next time I have a problem, I’ll bring it right to you.”

“Men always try to use brute force when a little sweetness would be a lot better.”

“I’ll remember that.” Clay suddenly shook his head. “Kat’s feeling bad. She’s fond of the animal.”

Biting her lip, Jenny’s eyes clouded. “It’ll be hard on her.”

“Yep, growing up is hard. Are you ready to go?”

“All ready. Let me take Jamie in to Ma.”

Clay kissed Jamie soundly and watched as Jenny carried her off into the house. He got behind the wheel, and when Jenny returned, he started the engine and pulled the squad car out of the yard. They had not gone far before they saw the truck and the trailer bearing Clara. “Think I’d better trail along in case Clara makes a break for it?”

“No, that’s their problem. Let’s go around them.”

Clay honked the horn once and swung out. He waved at the pair and laughed as Clint waved back, but Lewis did not appear to have seen them. “You hurt your dad’s feelings.”

“I know. He doesn’t like to think there’s anything he can’t do.”

“Oh, by the way, there’s something here I want to show you. I came across it in some old papers I was going through last night.”

“What is it?” Jenny asked curiously.

“It’s the rates that the mobsters charge for their services.”

“Their services!”

“Sure, look at it.”

Jenny looked down at the note, which was headed by the title
Rates for Crime.
It was in the form of a list, with an amount beside each item:

Jenny smiled slightly and shook her head. “This is a joke, isn’t it?”

“Oh, the list is just made up, but, as a matter of fact, you can get any of those items done—sometimes a lot cheaper. Human life isn’t held very highly in Chicago.”

“Well, I think it’s awful! Here.”

Clay laughed, wadded the paper up, and stuck it in his pocket. He said nothing for a time, and then he asked, “What’s new with you, Jenny?”

Jenny turned to face him. Two months had gone by, and they had had little success with putting bootlegging to a stop. They had made some minor arrests, but somehow they were never able to corner the worst of the bootleggers. Jenny did not have bootlegging on her mind at the moment, however, and suddenly, without meaning to, she blurted out, “Luke wants to marry me.”

Clay took his eyes off the road and stared at Jenny for a moment. He seemed troubled about this statement. “Are you going to?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

“You must have some idea.”

“Oh, I don’t know what made me tell you that. Forget it, Clay.”

Clay whistled a tune soundlessly as they moved along, then finally he said, “I guess you’re hoping one day to get married and have children.”

“Why, of course. I think every woman wants that.”

“Well, it’s good to have hopes, but they’re pretty elusive.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve had a few hopes. Things I dreamed of. They’d come to me sometimes—kind of like sailors finding a new land. They stay for a while, then somehow, they just sail off.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

“I’ve Missed Too Much!”

“One good thing about winter,” Billy Moon said. “You don’t have to fight the flies so much.”

Ruby looked up from the work scattered on the desk in front of her and met Billy’s eyes. He saw that her face was set in a tense sort of way and added, “But I guess flies are the least of my worries. How about a cup of coffee?”

“No. Thanks.”

The brief monosyllables only added to Billy’s impression that Ruby was, for some reason, in one of those moods that overtook her from time to time. He ambled over to the table and poured himself a cup of steaming coffee, black as tar. He came back, pulled the chair up, then sat down, holding the cup in both hands. He sipped the scalding beverage and said, “I never could stand to hear people talk about bad coffee. There’s not any bad coffee. The worst cup I ever had was real good.” He had hoped to amuse Ruby, and she sat there holding her pen so tightly that he could see her knuckles were white. “Somethin’ wrong, Ruby?”

For a moment the woman did not answer, and then she shook her head. “Nothing you could fix, Billy.”

“I’m a pretty good fixer. Give me a try.”

“You can’t fix things that went bad a long time ago.”

Billy swirled the coffee around, stared for a moment into its depths as if seeking to find some answer, and when he did look up and speak, his voice was gentle. “You got a bad deal, but you can’t live in a cave.”

“You can’t trust people either.”

“You know better than that, Ruby. Some are no good. Some are.”

“How am I supposed to tell good men from bad men?” With these words Ruby bit her lip, threw the pen down, and rose to her feet. She walked over, poured herself a cup of coffee in a large white mug, and then turned to stand staring out the window. Billy got up and walked over to her. He put his hand lightly on her shoulder and said, “Wish I could do something to help.”

At his touch Ruby turned, and he saw the defense mechanism that seemed automatic with her. “You think I wouldn’t like to trust people? I did once, and I found out what it’s like when someone lets you down.”

The two stood there, Billy’s bulk making her seem small. “You know what the old poem says. Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, or something like that.”

“That’s a crock of oatmeal!” Ruby said vehemently. She sipped the coffee and made a face. “This is terrible coffee—strong enough to take the enamel off your teeth! I don’t care what you say.” Her expression revealed something stirring within her, and she blurted out, “You know those little yappy ankle-biting dogs, Billy?”

“Sure. I can’t stand ’em.”

“Neither can I. I had a friend who had one once. I hated that beast. She put a muzzle on him so he couldn’t bite anybody, but beneath the muzzle he was still that same ankle biter. You’d take the muzzle off, and he’d bite in a minute. That’s what men are like.”