Текст книги "Day Shift"

Автор книги: Charlaine Harris

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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

35

Joe went out to exercise the next morning for the first time since he’d hurt his ankle. He couldn’t run, but he could walk. He turned east instead of west because he wanted to check on the death site. He and Chuy had heard the scream the night before, and they’d hugged each other. After a short time, he’d observed one of the tigers dragging something across the street and through the gate into the pet cemetery. And he’d seen Olivia cross the street to fetch the Rev’s outside hose, so he figured she’d watered down the ground.

Joe was willing to bet that the Rev was in the pet cemetery now, digging a deep grave. There were several deep graves in the burial ground. The Rev put the illicit bodies very far down and buried the pets on top of them. It was his technique. “The exercise is good for me,” he’d told Joe, back when he was talking more. As the years had gone by, the Rev spoke more and more seldom.

Before he’d gone far out of town, Joe heard someone running behind him. He half turned his head and glimpsed the tall man who’d left Diederik with the Rev. He was a little surprised that the man was up to running this morning, but then, were-animals were high-energy creatures. Joe was taking it easy on his ankle, and it wasn’t long before the taller man had caught up with him. He passed Joe with a nod, which Joe returned.

Joe turned around a few minutes later, because he was feeling an unpleasant ache in his injured leg. When it began to nag at him, he slowed still more.

By and by, he heard footsteps behind him. The sun was beginning to hammer down, and Joe was streaming with sweat, and at first he thought he was just hearing his pulse hammering in his ears. But the tall man was coming up behind him, and after another moment he fell into step beside Joe.

“You may be thinking what a terrible father I am,” he began.

“Let’s stop by Fiji’s. Maybe you should tell her this story,” Joe said. “She’s taken great care of your boy, more than any of us.” After that they proceeded in silence.

Though it was early in the morning and her store had not yet opened, Fiji was dressed and working in her garden when they strolled up. She didn’t seem surprised when Joe called to her; he thought perhaps she had seen both of them set out on their run, and put herself in their way. She rocked back on her heels and stood up, putting her hand over her eyes to look up at the two men. Though Fiji smiled, at her feet Mr. Snuggly glared up at the tall man.

The tall man squatted down. The sun gleamed on his bald head as he held out his hand to Mr. Snuggly. “Little brother, you have nothing to fear from me,” he said. “And neither does Miss Fiji.” The cat stared at the man’s hand. Then he turned and strolled away, his tail straight up in the air. Giving the cat version of the finger, Joe figured.

After a moment, the man straightened and stood. He looked from Joe to Fiji, and Joe noticed his eyes were purple, like pansies. Like his son’s. “I’m Quinn,” he said. “My son tells me that you’ve all been taking care of him. Especially you, Miss Fiji.”

“Just Fiji will be fine. Diederik’s a cute kid,” she said slowly, as a preliminary. Joe thought she wasn’t sure how to put what she wanted to say. “Really, we all helped to take care of him. The Rev . . .” She paused. Then she decided to be blunt. “What the hell,” she said. “You gotta know, Mr. Quinn, that the Rev was not the best person to leave a little boy with. No matter how much he looks like he’s in his teens, Diederik’s still a kid. Especially in view . . .” She looked at Joe for support, and he nodded.

“We wonder what the story is,” Joe said, simplifying.

“I deserve that,” Quinn said. “And I want to explain. I didn’t think there were any other weretigers left in North America. In fact, I was wondering if I was the last one in the world when I met Diederik’s mother, Tijgerin. The first time she got pregnant, she told me she wanted to be a traditional mother. That means she would raise the cub on her own. I hated the idea, but she wanted to do things the way her own mother had. But Tijgerin lost the cub. We were sad. Really sad. But we both figured it wasn’t likely that something else would go wrong with another pregnancy. So after a time, we made another baby. I was sure she would be different this time, but I was wrong. Tijgerin was still convinced she was right. She wanted to raise him old-school. Away from me.” The big man shook his head. Joe could feel the sadness and regret emanating from him.

“She seemed healthy and so did the cub inside her. I felt I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t force her, wouldn’t force her, to do what I wanted. I’d been forced to do a lot of things myself, and I didn’t want that for her. Tijgerin was a proud woman. A proud tiger.”

Mr. Snuggly had crept out from the bush to look up at Quinn. Absently, Fiji scooped the cat up so he could see better.

Joe closed his eyes to guard himself against Quinn’s pain.

“She delivered him by herself, in human form, as we two-natured do, in case you don’t know that. She called me to tell me everything went well, that we had a son. I was so excited and started out to see him,” Quinn said. “Just a quick visit. She was adamant. But while I was traveling, something went wrong inside her. By the time I tracked her down, she was almost gone, but she’d kept the baby alive.”

Joe turned away. He pulled out a handkerchief and used it to mop his face. He was sad and burdened, and he longed for his apartment and Chuy. But he was here to bear witness.

“So you had the raising of the boy,” Fiji said.

He nodded. He seemed intent that Joe and Fiji understand his story. “I had Diederik, and I did the best I could. I have a traveling job, so sometimes I had to leave him with my sister. She’s human, and she’s married. Soon she had her own baby on the way. She told me that she would find it hard to take care of Diederik and her own baby at the same time. I could understand that, especially when he began growing. Once out of infancy, the growth really accelerates, until—well, you saw. So I started taking him with me, which wasn’t ideal. But I couldn’t leave him with someone who wouldn’t understand.”

“But why’d you have to leave him with the Rev?” Joe asked. “Did you know this would be his moon?”

“Let me make myself clear. I would never have left him if I’d been sure it was his moon,” Quinn said, his voice hard. “But I knew it was getting close, and I knew he would start growing like crazy, so when I found out there was another tiger, I was . . . so relieved. Another tiger in this country! Finally, a safe place to leave Diederik, with someone who would understand, while I did my job one more time.”

“But . . . this is going to be a problem forever, right?” Fiji looked troubled. “I mean, I hate to criticize, but . . .” She waved one hand as if to say, This is permanent.

“Now that he’s had his first moon, we can plan together,” Quinn said. “We’re on the same schedule. I only wish I could have been here from the start of his moon. Last night was unfortunate.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Fiji said.

Quinn took a deep breath. Joe could tell the weretiger wanted to leap in with some defense of his cub, but facts were facts. “I stopped him from eating her,” he said finally. “He won’t be a maneater. We went and took down a sheep afterward.”

“The woman did not deserve to die like that,” Joe said.

“And I feel as bad as you can imagine about it. But I didn’t arrive, change, and get on Diederik’s trail fast enough to prevent it happening. And the Rev was not fast enough. Since dawn, I’ve been comforting a boy who remembers sinking his teeth into a woman’s throat.”

There was a moment of silence. Joe regrouped. “So where is he now?” he asked, proud that his voice was mild and even.

“At the Rev’s, asleep, finally.” Quinn looked away. “I was too keyed up to sleep myself, so I came out for a run.”

“If you take him with you everywhere you go now, what will happen about his schooling?”

“That’s something I’ll have to think about. He learns really quickly. He’s smart.” The pride shone through the words. “But were-animals have a hard time in human schools, especially the ones who grow extra fast, like Diederik. It’s going to take a long time for his emotions to catch up with his body. At least, a long time in kid terms. Maybe a year or two, it varies. In the meantime, he looks like he should be in high school, but he hasn’t been to any school at all. So he has none of the background or social conditioning.”

“Please come in,” Fiji said abruptly. “We don’t need to be standing out in the heat.”

They all trooped inside, and she sat them down in her cool kitchen. Mr. Snuggly retired to a basket in the corner, where he could keep an eye on Quinn. Fiji offered them beverages, and both the men took glasses of iced tea. She put a plate of raisin bread on the table, with a knife and some butter and napkins. Though Joe felt he shouldn’t, he cut a slice and slathered it with butter and ate it slowly. So much for my run, he thought, before making himself concentrate on Quinn.

“So, Diederik,” Fiji said. And waited.

“The Rev has offered to keep him here for a few months while Diederik gets his balance emotionally,” Quinn said. “You can imagine how scary it is to go from being a little kid to being a teen in a very short time. It’s hard enough, my friends tell me, to do it in human time. It’s a dangerous time for Diederik. I’ll come in every chance I get.”

“That’s the best you can do,” Fiji said.

Joe nodded in agreement. Though he himself could not remember being a teenager, he was sure it must have been hard. He had only to think of the two teens who’d recently lived in Midnight to confirm that.

“And after that?” Joe said.

“This is a community that’s not afraid to jump in and speak its mind,” Quinn said, one corner of his mouth quirking up. “I guess I deserve that. I blew one of the biggest moment’s in my son’s life when I tried to take on one more job.”

“And your mysterious job, the one that keeps you traveling so much, is?” Joe found himself curious.

“I’m an event planner for the supernatural community. I do vampire weddings and coming-of-age parties for were-animals . . . the ones who can predict more closely than tigers! Leadership struggles of one kind or another. And so on. Since the supernaturals are such a small percentage of the population and so scattered, that involves a lot of travel. I was hoping to put enough in the bank to retire after this year. At least I can afford to take some time off until I can figure out what to do next.”

Fiji said, “So, now that Diederik’s had his first change, it’ll be monthly from now on?” She had cut a piece of bread for herself, and she was taking a bite every now and then. She rose to pour herself a cup of coffee and to refill the men’s glasses.

“Yes,” Quinn said. “Though illness and environment can change that with tigers, that’s the ideal pattern.”

“And ranchers would lose a cow a month? That’s kind of hard for some people, don’t you think?” Joe was picturing the ranchers who came into Home Cookin, men and women who lived on a very narrow financial margin.

“Sometimes the Rev needs to hunt,” Quinn said. “We all do. Sometimes the instinct gets so strong you just have to. But mostly, he buys a cow and stakes it out in the open land just north or just south of town overnight.”

Until he can jump on it and kill it and eat it, Joe thought. He could see that a hunt would be far more satisfying and natural than stalking a bought-and-paid-for domestic animal, furthermore one that was stationary.

He remembered, thousands of years ago, fighting. The feral thrill of finding his opponent, the flash of the bright sword. But memories only brought bitterness, and he was out of the bitterness business. He shoved that cycle of emotion aside to return to Fiji’s kitchen, lit with sunlight and clean surfaces and good smells.

“You’re the father, and I’ve never had a child,” Joe said. “But surely the boy would be better off with you, instead of here. If, as you say, you’re going to retire soon, can’t his education wait until then?”

It was lucky that he’d put the question with so much gentleness. Joe saw that Quinn’s face tightened and so did his shoulders, the signs of an irritated man.

“I’m sure you don’t know this,” said Quinn with equally good manners, “but a young weretiger is prized for his fighting ability. When I was the boy’s age, I was in the pits, obliged to fight and kill, to clear a family debt.” Without warning, he pulled off his T-shirt and rose, turning to show them the scars crisscrossing his back. There were plenty on the front, too.

“Oh,” said Fiji, deeply distressed. “That’s horrible. I’m glad you survived it.”

The big man shrugged and put his shirt back on. “It’s done. But more than anything else, I don’t want the supes to start imagining Diederik as pit fodder, now that he’s got his growth.”

“They could get him away from you?” Joe said.

“If I were dead.”

“So for now he’ll stay here in Midnight,” Joe said.

“Yes. Maybe a few months, maybe a year will see him strong enough, past the dangerous part. If he can make a name for himself doing something else, it won’t be easy to abduct him, force him. He will find a job he can do.”

Joe and Fiji looked at each other. “With the Rev?” she said finally. “You’ve been in the Rev’s house?”

“Yes,” Quinn said steadily. “I’ve seen it’s barren. I was going to ask if there was somewhere else he could stay, though the Rev would be responsible for educating Diederik in the ways of the tiger and instructing him in our history. Of course, I would pay his room and board and other expenses. I understand that you . . . Fiji . . . have been buying him clothes, and I want to pay you back for that. I thank you for your generosity.”

“De nada,” she said, smiling. “If you want to, sure, but I did it to keep him decent and smiling. Kids got to have clothes and lots of food.”

“Do you two have any ideas about who would host him?” Quinn looked from one to the other.

“I guess I could clean out my second bedroom. It’s pretty crammed with stuff,” Fiji said doubtfully.

“You’ve been great for Diederik, and he loves your cooking,” Quinn said. He smiled again. “I can see why, after eating this bread. But you’re also pretty and young, and sharing a house with an adolescent boy at such close quarters . . . well, it might not be ideal.”

Fiji turned red. “Okay,” she said.

“We have visitors,” Joe said regretfully. “So our guest room gets some use.” Chuy kept in touch with his human descendants, though they didn’t know his true nature, of course. Joe did not chide Chuy for the elaborate fictions he fed them about their kinship. Chuy seemed to need the contact.

“That leaves Manfred or Bobo,” Fiji said. “They’re both good men.”

Quinn stood. “I’ll go talk to them after I shower. I owe both of you for your kindness to my son.”

Mr. Snuggly raised his head and said, “Good-bye, big man.”

Quinn seemed taken aback. “Well . . . good-bye, little brother.” He shook his head and left.

“Joe, do you think this can work?”

“I hope so,” Joe said. “This town seems to have adopted a child.”

As he walked back to his apartment, looking forward to his shower, he was still thinking about the hard life Quinn had had, and the loss of the female Tijgerin.

Diederik was motherless, and his greatly accelerated growth rate had deprived him of a childhood. Yet the boy had always impressed Joe as being cheerful and willing and intelligent. For a moment, Joe almost resented Chuy’s odd attachment to humans that made Diederik’s boarding with them very unlikely. It would have been nice to have someone young around the place. He smiled to himself. It hadn’t escaped his notice that Quinn had automatically assumed that Diederik would be attracted to a woman rather than a man. Well, he was probably right. Joe hadn’t gotten any vibe that said otherwise, though a boy so young sometimes didn’t know his own nature.

Joe wondered if Diederik’s mother, Tijgerin, had really been the last female weretiger.

If so, Diederik was the end of the line. If he couldn’t find another female, weretigers were extinct. For most of his life, Quinn must have assumed that he was the last one, and now he had a son. Joe hoped that Diederik would be even luckier and find a mate who lived.

The death of the woman the night before did not overly trouble Joe. It was done now. Past mending. He was not going to lament over it or ask God to smite Diederik.

And that was one reason he was in Midnight.

36

By the time lunch rolled around, there was a small crowd gathered in Home Cookin. Olivia was indulging herself with an open-faced roast beef sandwich. She cut the pieces very small and chewed them deliberately. Her fellow Midnighters were gathered around the table, and she smiled at them all. The action of the night before had left her feeling pleasantly relaxed. Aside from the absent weretigers and Teacher, perpetually on duty at Gas N Go, everyone else was there, though Madonna and Grady were in the kitchen and Dillon was at football practice.

Manfred came in later than the others, looking flushed and excited. Since he was normally the palest person in town (except, of course, for Lemuel), this was a notable occurrence.

“What’s up?” asked Chuy, who was holding Rasta on his lap. Rasta had had a bad time of it the night before. The chuffing sound of the tigers had made him shiver and shake and whine. Long after the silence had fallen, Joe and Chuy had let the little dog in the bed between them, a behavior usually only indulged during thunderstorms.

Manfred paused to tentatively pat Olivia on the shoulder, something he’d never done before. (If he’d known why Lewis and Bertha had turned up at his door last night, he might not have.)

“I just stopped by the hotel to check on Mamie and Tommy and Suzie,” Manfred said to the table in general. “Also, I wanted to see if Shorty had heard from his grandson. I found them all packed up and ready to go.”

“What?” Olivia looked at him sharply, trying to believe this was some weird joke. “What did Lenore Whitefield say?”

“She said that places had opened up for all of them in Safe Harbor, that really fancy assisted-living place in Davy. They’ll each have their own rooms with a little kitchen space, a television, a queen bed, and a La-Z-Boy. I’m quoting.”

Everyone digested that for a minute.

“How’d they feel about it?” Olivia was almost angry.

“They said there was sure to be more going on in Davy. The residents there have dance lessons and bowling nights and yoga classes.”

“So they were willing to go?” Olivia could hardly believe it.

“Yes, even after we took them to lunch at Cracker Barrel, they were willing to go,” Manfred said, laughing. “But they want us to come and visit, and they said you’d promised to take them to the library, Olivia.”

“I’m going to do exactly that,” she said.

“And they weren’t suspicious about it all being paid for?” Chuy said.

“I guess if you’ve been living in a roach motel in Las Vegas, you’re ready to accept whatever good comes your way,” Manfred said.

“What about the regular guests? The contract workers at Magic Portal?” Bobo asked. One of them had come into Midnight Pawn the previous Saturday and tried to bargain with Bobo over an old tray. He’d been embarrassingly persistent.

“They’re still in residence, as Lenore put it,” Manfred said. “I asked her if more old people would be coming in, and she said that was out of her authority, or something like that. But the hotel’s going to stay open.”

“Very strange,” Chuy said, scratching Rasta’s head. “Two staff, plus the cook, for two guests.”

Bobo said, “What does this mean for the future, I wonder?”

Of course, none of them knew the answer to that. It was unsettling, to say the least.

The electronic chime on the door made them all turn to see who’d come in.

“Hey, everyone,” said Arthur Smith.

They were relaxed enough with the sheriff to say “Hey” back and to make room for him at their table. He eyed Olivia’s roast beef sandwich with interest.

“I came to talk to you, Manfred, and I figured you’d be over here when I couldn’t catch you at your place.” Madonna brought Arthur a glass of water and some silverware, and he asked if he could have an open-face like Olivia. Madonna nodded impassively and left.

“What about? I’m not in more trouble, I hope?” Though Manfred tried to sound confident, he knew they could all hear the uncertainty in his voice.

“The Bonnet Park cops called me. They had a few things to say about Lewis Goldthorpe.”

“Oh?” Manfred hoped Arthur didn’t notice that everyone at the table had grown silent.

“Yeah. He came in to tell them today that he’d seen three tigers here.”

“Tigers. Three.” Manfred didn’t have to struggle to sound amazed. He really was; how did Lewis believe this news would go over at any police department in America? “Ah, and why was he here, did he say that? Because I sure can’t imagine it.”

He hoped he wasn’t imagining that Arthur’s eyes were sharp and taking in his every twitch.

“He said they ate his housekeeper. Some woman named Bertha?”

“Bertha was here, too?” Manfred couldn’t manage a laugh, but he did produce a passable sneer. “Aside from three tigers and Bertha, did he mention anyone else?”

Arthur smiled, just a little. “Nope. But since the jewelry was found and you couldn’t have killed Rachel Goldthorpe, you’re no longer part of the investigation.”

“Cleared!” Manfred thumped the table. “That’s what I’ve been waiting for all along. So did they give you a hint about who did kill her?”

“Don’t know. Lewis says it was this Bertha and that she was his dad’s mistress. I don’t know if that’s so or not. And no one can find Bertha. She’s gone from home, her son doesn’t know where she is, she didn’t show up for work, and her car is nowhere to be found. Her son says he has a blood test to prove he’s the son of Morton Goldthorpe. Annelle and Roseanna, the daughters, are pretty excited about that.”

“They want another brother? Weird,” Bobo said. “Well, the important thing is that Manfred is in the clear.”

“The Bonnet Park police couldn’t have told Manfred themselves?” Olivia looked properly indignant.

“They seem a little overrun with things to do right now,” Arthur said. “What with Lewis acting crazy, an unsolved death on their hands, the missing woman, a potential new heir, and the resultant publicity. Lewis, as it turns out, has been going all over the place telling this story about the tigers, and the chief of police there says he thinks the sisters are going to try to have him committed.”

“That’s a relief,” Manfred said. “He doesn’t sound stable enough to be running around on his own.”

Arthur nodded and began to cut up his sandwich. He closed his eyes for a moment to appreciate the aroma. “This is like heaven,” he said, and put a bite in his mouth.

“Enjoy it. I’ve got to go,” Olivia said, smiling all around. She folded her paper napkin and put it on her plate, pushing back from the table and rising in one smooth movement. She reached the glass door, where she paused. After a second, she said, “Arthur. Come here. Quick.”

With a sigh, Arthur laid down his fork and joined her. “What’s up?” he asked, making it clear he was none too happy.

“The Gas N Go is being robbed,” she said, as quietly as if the robber could hear her. “That car just pulled up to the pump. The guy went in with a hoodie on. Like the guy who’s robbed all the others. In this weather, a hoodie. He didn’t start pumping any gas.”

Madonna, who’d been clearing Olivia’s plate, went straight into the kitchen and came out with baby Grady and a shotgun. “You keep this child,” she said to Joe, handing Grady over. Grady and Joe were both a little surprised. Madonna went straight for the door with the shotgun in her hand. “No one is holding my husband up,” she said simply, and she would have pushed out the door and gone over to Gas N Go if Arthur hadn’t stopped her.

“Let me take care of this,” he said. “It’s my job. If I go down, feel free to take over. I’ve called for backup.” He smiled—just a little—and left Home Cookin.

They were all gathered at the window by then, Bobo and Manfred, Fiji, Chuy and Joe and Rasta and Grady. Olivia was outside on the sidewalk, very fidgety.

Arthur Smith had his game face on. He drew his gun and ran across the road. When he got to the corner of Gas N Go, he edged forward until he could see through the window.

“He know where the back door is?” Madonna asked no one.

“Yes,” Manfred said. “He does.” Arthur had seen it a few months before when Manfred and Bobo had gotten jumped in the alley behind the store.

They all held their breath while Arthur left the window and hurried up the alley to the back door.

“Teacher, don’t have locked that damn door,” Madonna said out loud.

He hadn’t.

Arthur slipped inside, and without saying a word, Madonna opened the door and crossed the street, shotgun at the ready.

“Ahhhh,” Fiji said. Her hands were twitching.

“You can’t go over there,” Manfred said. “Arthur wouldn’t understand.”

Olivia said, “Showtime.”

Like the diner, Gas N Go was fronted with glass, but it was at an angle to the street. There was no way the little crowd at Home Cookin could see inside as Madonna could. She pulled open the door and raised the shotgun, and they all drew in breath at the same moment. Joe held Grady’s little face to his shoulder so the boy couldn’t see.

There was no boom, no screaming, none of the sounds they were dreading they’d hear.

Instead, they heard sirens approaching from Davy.

“Oh, thank you, God,” Chuy said.

“All’s well that ends well,” Olivia murmured. “Well, I’m out of here.” As if nothing much had transpired, she strode down the sidewalk and crossed after the intersection to go back to her apartment.

Fiji had tears streaming down her face.

“Hey, what’s up?” Manfred asked. Then he realized how stupid that was, and he shook his head at his own foolishness.

“I know it’s dumb,” she said. “I think it’s just cumulative tension, you know? After last night?”

“Oh. You saw.”

She nodded. “I need some drama-free time,” she said. “And I’m going to go home and have me some.”

“Good idea,” Manfred said, but she was already out of Home Cookin and walking home. “And who knew Madonna kept a shotgun in the kitchen?” he asked Joe, who was rocking from side to side, Grady drowsing in his arms.

“Not me, for sure,” Joe said. “Chuy?”

“Knock me over with a feather,” Chuy said, and smiled.

The three weretigers, in their human bodies, of course, emerged from the Rev’s small house and stood in a line on the sidewalk, watching the deputies, including Gomez and Nash, swarm all over Gas N Go. The three wandered over to stand by the angels and the psychic, who had stepped outside. Manfred was hoping the blood patch outside his house was really dispersed. Olivia had done a good job, but he wanted to check.

Madonna came stomping back across the street, holding the shotgun broken open in the crook of her arm.

“Let me put this up. I’ll come back and get Grady,” she said.

“Sure. He’s no trouble,” Joe said. “Everything okay over there?”

“Yeah. That Smith came through the back area just before I came in the front. Little jerk-off thief didn’t know where to look.”

“Anyone we know?” Joe asked.

“No, some punk from Abilene,” she said. “Thought it would be easy to knock over a little store in a little town like Midnight. Huh. Not with me and Teacher here, it isn’t.” She gave the line of men a look that expressed her contempt at their inaction, and then she went in to put away the shotgun. “Thanks for all your help. Not.”

“I guess we got put in our place,” Quinn said, sounding amused. The Rev shook his head. Diederik (now even taller, Manfred noted) smiled, not the big open grin of previous days, but a smile nonetheless. Joe and Chuy stood as close together as they could get, and Joe smiled down at the dark head resting on his shoulder.

“Yes, we’re a sad bunch,” Manfred said, and he smiled, too. He thought Diederik still smelled like blood. He watched as, out of nothing, a feather fluttered from Joe’s shoulder and landed gently on the sidewalk.