The Eagle and the Fox (A Snowy Range Mystery, #1) (17 page)

Talk about not being fitting...

That would have tongues wagging, for sure. But it’d be worth it to see the child’s face light up, knowing she had something special that was hers alone.

The girl fidgeted as she stared at the floor. Marcus was about to remind her she needed to get started on the display case, but found himself saying instead, “You’re looking mighty pretty today, young lady. Is that a new outfit?” Blushing to her curly blonde roots, Petilune nodded. “Seems to me that’s too nice to be wearing in a dirty old place like this.”

The poor child’s face blanched. Eyes darting around the store, she gasped, “I don’t have nothing to change into. I’m so... so sorry, Mr. Colton, I-I...”

Marcus reached under the counter and found a fresh apron. It was a coarse, sturdy sailcloth with enough material to wrap the girl like a mummy. On himself it fell to his knees. On Petilune it would reach to the floor and then some.

Placing the apron on the counter, he said, “I have a special job for you, sweetie.” He pointed to an empty bin near the front doors. “You see all that stuff in those two duffle bags and on the floor?”

“Yes sir.”

“Those were at the fire. I was thinking we should put them on sale. What do you think?”

The girl hadn’t moved from her spot by the counter, but she gave the equine and bovine supplies a good look, then wrinkled her nose. “They smell funny. And they’re dirty too.”

“Exactly. They need cleaned up first and then set out so folks can stock up on barn supplies if they’ve a mind.” Leaning his elbows on the counter, Marcus gazed into the girl’s eyes. “Think you can do that for me?”

Nodding enthusiastically, Petilune fingered the apron, drawing it closer to the edge of the counter. It was clear the girl had something else on her mind. Marcus feared she was going to ask about going home, which would be expected given no one had yet to work out what they were going to do with the child long term. So far, given all the upset—Josh getting injured and all the chaos up and down the valley as the Fire Marshall investigated while volunteers tried putting it all to rights—seeing to Petilune’s living arrangements hadn’t been high on anyone’s list.

They were playing it by ear, but that wasn’t a situation that could go on indefinitely. Marcus needed to face the fact he had no legal standing, no matter how much so-called evidence he could bring to bear against Janice. What with all the innuendo and wink-wink offers, the truth was he
had
accepted Janice’s proposition, just not in the way she’d intended.

But a bargain with the devil was still a bargain, and there were too many ways it could be interpreted to risk losing his reputation and, ultimately, his ability to see that the child stayed relatively insulated from her mother’s machinations.

He asked, “Was there something else, hon?”

Dithering, Petilune gripped the edge of the counter with both hands and mumbled, “Um, I was wondering...” Marcus umm’d and waited. “I was thinking, since I come in early like... Maybe...”

His heart in his throat, and praying the girl wasn’t angling to meet up with Kit, he asked, “You need time off for a special reason?”

She nodded. “Becca says if it’s okay by you she was gonna take me and the girls to Laramie to go shopping. She thinks her things don’t fit me so good.” She grabbed fistsful of cotton skirt, clearly not agreeing but excited to see what else Becca had in mind.

Marcus tried not to show his relief. “Um, sure, I don’t mind. That’s nice of her to do that.” He was going to say the woman was a saint but Petilune probably already knew that, though she might express it a different way. He and Josh had been right about the child needing a woman’s touch.

Reaching into the cash register, Marcus extracted a few twenties and laid the bills next to the apron. Petilune’s eyes nearly popped out of her skull. She said, “It’s only Wednesday,” giving him a look that suggested maybe he was having a senior moment. “Friday’s payday. Besides... that’s too much.”

Marcus knew damn well what day it was. And he also knew that Petilune handed over every cent she earned at the store to that no good mother and her two brothers. If he’d been smarter, or had had time to think things through, he’d have set up an account at the closest bank and done direct deposit of at least a portion of the girl’s paycheck so the funds didn’t end up lining some drug dealer’s pocket.

He knew the child well. She wasn’t going to accept the money without a special incentive. Thinking fast, he came up with a solution that might work.

“That display there? It’s a reminder how we all fought to save Will Barnes’ and his family’s home. So it needs to look as nice as you can make it. I want everyone who comes in the front door to see that first thing.” Petilune wasn’t convinced but she was listening. “It’s not going to be easy. Like you said, stuff’s pretty filthy. So I’m figuring it’s like doing a job that goes above and beyond. Know what I mean?”

Petilune murmured, “I guess,” as she gathered the apron and the stack of bills into her arms.

Marcus reminded her, “That’s called a bonus, Pet. It doesn’t go to anyone else, just you. Promise me?”

Backing away, the girl turned tear-glazed eyes in his direction. “I promise, Mr— Um, Uncle Marcus.” She tucked the bills into the apron pocket and, humming a tune, knelt on the floor to assess what needed done.

With the phone ringing off the hook, Marcus lost track of time. He was in his office and counting himself lucky that there were no customers to keep track of in the store when the bell dinged, indicating someone had come in.

He shouted, “Be right out,” and answered the phone. There was a problem with fulfilling one of his orders. The wholesaler needed to confirm the lot numbers so Marcus set the phone down and jogged to the small warehouse area to check. He was grumbling, “Damn it, I need to computerize all this shit,” when he heard screeching from the front of the store. Spinning on his heel, he bolted in the direction of the noise.

By the time he got to where he’d left Petilune, she was gone and the apron lay in a clump on the floor. Heart pounding, he wasted precious seconds checking the aisles but there was no sign of the girl or her assailant. When he finally got on the porch, he saw the tail lights of Janice’s junker Chevy taking the left toward town.

His initial response was to jump in his van and head to Janice’s place to confront her about the child. But, what could he say? Or do? He didn’t have a leg to stand on. And if Janice wanted, she could level a charge of kidnapping or something easily as ridiculous because they’d given the child refuge for almost four days, moving her from one place to another, and leaving Janice completely out of the loop.

That probably was not the smartest move he’d ever made.

He stared into space, lost in thought. It was bad enough the girl had been dragged back into a toxic situation, but knowing she’d gotten to see that families could be different, people could be different—kind and caring—the idea of her losing that spark of happiness was almost more than he could bear.

Bending to pick up the apron, he spied the sign Petilune had made, in uneven block letters. She’d duct taped it to the bin, the words— FIRE SALE—nearly bringing him to his knees.

The sound of gravel set his blood pumping. Maybe Janice had had second thoughts...

But it wasn’t Janice, it was Becca and the girls in Josh’s truck. With a heavy heart he waved for her to come in.

The first words out of her mouth were, “Is something wrong, Marcus?”

“Pet’s gone. Her fucking excuse for a mother dragged her out while I was in the back. I heard screaming and came fast as I could.” He kicked a wooden leg holding up the sale bin. The neat array of bottles and boxes toppled in every direction.

Becca placed a hand on his arm, the touch meant to be reassuring. “She’s her mother, Marcus. There’s not much you can do.”

That wasn’t what he wanted to hear. The crazy situation had him between a rock and a hard place. Staring at the floor, praying for divine guidance, he asked Becca, “What should I do? What would
you
do?”

She thought for a few moments, then answered quietly, “Nothing.”

“But, I can’t—”

“Yes, you can. You have to. For Petilune’s sake.” She looked at the display and flicked at the piece of paper taped to the side. “Did she do this?”

Marcus nodded. “She worked all afternoon to get it just right. And I go and fuck it all up. Jesus, Becca...” He wanted to pound sand, punch holes in the wall with his fist. He hated feeling helpless like this.

Giving him a quick hug, Becca said, “I have to go, but promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“Not sure I can do that, but I’ll try.”

She sighed and opened the door, then paused and said, “If Josh gets back at a decent hour, you want me to have him call you?”

The answer was yes, a yes he wanted to howl to the rafters. Instead he asked, “Did he go somewhere?” then realized how stupid that sounded. So stupid he felt the heat rise up his neck.

Becca diplomatically looked away. “He took one of the three-year-olds to the fairgrounds to show him to a prospective buyer passing through town. His rig was hooked up to my truck so...” She pointed to Josh’s vehicle. “I get black beauty there.”

Remembering his manners, Marcus called out as Becca climbed into the cab of the truck, “Thanks for all you’ve done. I owe you.”

“The only thing you owe me, Marcus, is your appetite on Sunday. Come by around ten. The girls are really looking forward to taking you out for an adventure.” She waved and backed up, doing a wide, sweeping turn before heading back the way she’d come.

He decided to close up early. If anyone came by they could always pound on the door. He just didn’t feel like dealing with people or anything much at the moment. Avoiding the display bin, he bent to pick up the apron. As he was folding it neatly, he felt inside the wide pocket, not at all surprised the money the child had tucked away, her special bonus, had gone missing. He wasn’t going to bet on who got her grubby hands on it.

On the loading dock he lit a cigarette and inhaled. The rear lot was in shadow. Marcus had a feeling he was being watched. Kit’s admonition to keep Petilune away from her brothers ran in an endless loop in his head.

He shouted, “How the hell am I supposed to do that Eagle Boy? You wanna give me a clue, because I’m fucking listening...”

Sinking onto the top step, he watched and waited, but there wasn’t a sound nor a whisper of a breeze. Eventually he realized he was alone. Alone with his thoughts, with the life he’d forged after Tommy died. He’d convinced himself he’d had his time—that he didn’t really need that kind of companionship anymore, not at this stage of his life.

He’d found contentment, a purpose. It would be enough. It had to be.

Pulling his cell phone from his back pocket, he stared at Josh’s number on the screen and wondered if he might call later. Just to say
hi, how are you
?

He glanced in the direction of a stand of pine and called out, “You can come sit a spell, if you like, son,” but it was too late. If Kit had been there, he’d already faded into the shadows.

Marcus lit another cigarette and allowed his thoughts to drift to Sunday and a family dinner with Becca and her girls. And Josh.

****

T
hursday had dawned chilly. Periodic snow showers blew through the valley, the flakes evaporating almost before they hit the ground. Marcus had been busy running back and forth to the loading dock, supervising where to put the replacement inventory, and then sorting out who got what from the jumble of packages the UPS man had dropped off.

By the time he’d handed out the last of the parcels, he was ready for a cup of coffee and fifteen minutes off his aching feet. To his surprise, Petilune knocked on the office door. Marcus hadn’t expected to see her again. Not after Janice had carted her off kicking and screaming, though that was merely a fanciful image he carried in his head, not having witnessed the actual scene.

He asked, “You all right, sweety?”

Petilune nodded, the tight braids bobbing up and down. Somebody had washed and tended to her hair, making it look neat and pretty. He prayed it had been Janice and not Polly or one of her girls. He needed some evidence that her mother wasn’t just a useless sack of shit, so strung out on drugs and liquor that the only reason she kept Petilune around was because he was her version of a sugar daddy.

The pinafore was worn thin in spots, but clean—it was one of two outfits she had for school. Other than nodding, the girl hadn’t said anything, which wasn’t unusual. Sometimes she chattered like a magpie, other times she was lost in her little world. Marcus asked, “How was school today?” He refused to bring up the episode of the day before, though it made his gut clench to hold back.

Again, the girl shrugged. Apparently it was one of her quiet days. That was the only explanation he allowed himself to accept. To do otherwise meant other possibilities could rear their ugly heads.

He was tempted to call Becca to come to the store and find a way to check the child for bruising, or to talk with her, maybe draw her out. But Becca had said do nothing, and she said it with conviction. So he put a lid on the questions for the time being.

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t keep an eye on the girl.

––––––––

T
he drive up to Dubois had been tedious and not without incident. A snow burst had glazed the road enough to make for a not-so-fun white knuckle drive. Plus, it was the first long trip for the two colts in the trailer. They’d been good, riding quietly, until the tight ess-curves and steep gradients challenged their balance and sense of humor.

By the time Josh reached Lander and stopped at a diner to grab coffee and snacks, he was ready to post a free-to-good-home banner on the rear of the trailer. If it hadn’t been for the dollar signs dancing in his head, he might have given in to temptation.

That all changed when he checked on them. Both colts were quaking like aspen in a stiff breeze. The one was lathered so badly, Josh wondered if he was facing a colic incident. Rather than risk moving them while they were still riled up, he asked the cashier if she knew of a local vet. Fortunately one was available. The gal came out, did a hands-on and gave them just enough tranqs to take the edge off.