Blood Country (30 page)

Dora sat stunned and then fluttered her eyelashes. “My, I have one more thing to thank him for.”

“He only liked you because he couldn’t have kids of his own with his stupid wife. She was always such an invalid. Delicate, schmelicate. That woman was as manipulating as they come.”

Dora drew herself up and spoke. “Landers was the only one in my family that stayed in touch with me. He even came up and saw my act a few times. I don’t care what you say about him. He was a swell guy and a great uncle.”

“How about father? How was he as a father?” Darla snarled.

Dora put down the cigarette and ran a hand through her hair. “What are you going on about, Mother?”

Fred raised his head from his hands and shook it. “Darla, do you have to? Can’t you just shut up for once? Haven’t you done enough damage?”

But there was no stopping Darla. She burned with rage. Fred’s words only made her madder. “Landers got me pregnant before he left for the army. Why do you think I married Fred? I had to. Landers wouldn’t even answer my letters. What could I do in those days? I didn’t know anybody. My family wouldn’t help me. Fred was the only one who was even nice to me. So we got married a few months before you were born.”

Dora asked, “Did Landers ever know?”

“No, I never told him. He never figured it out. But a few years ago, I decided to tell his idiot wife. I showed her a picture of me and Landers together. She had always wanted a child so bad. The idea that I had carried and raised Landers’ child sent her over the edge. She held it against Landers and never told him. I loved it. He got back some of what he deserved, all right.”

“So you killed him? Why, after all these years?” Dora had taken over the questioning, and Claire thought she was doing a good job. She just kept watch to see the tape recorder was still running.

Darla started to tremble. “Throw me one of those cigarettes. Doctor says I shouldn’t smoke. Isn’t that a laugh? Lung cancer as far gone as mine, and he’s worried if I’m smoking.” She grabbed the pack and pulled out a cigarette. Claire watched in fascination; she saw some similarities between Dora and Darla. With the cigarette lit and inhaled, Darla went on. “I didn’t go over there intending to kill him. I was just going to talk to him and persuade him to sign over our property to us. But when I saw him bent down on the ground and the shovel right behind him, I was so pissed off at him, I grabbed it and swung. And he stood up. He walked right into it. The shovel hit his head, and he fell. Fred drove up, and I sent him off to pinochle. I left Landers lying on the ground. I didn’t know if he was dead or not. I didn’t care. I figured if he was dead, we would get the land for sure. I wanted Fred to get something before I died.” Darla took a long drag on the cigarette and then pointed it at Claire. “But I’ll tell you another thing. It makes me happy to think Landers died before I did.”

M
EG HAD RAMAH
help her find his phone number. Then she dialed it by herself. After five rings, he picked up the phone. She said, “Hello, Mr. Pheasant Man.” Then she started to giggle.

“Hello there, Miss Meg,” he said seriously.

“I think my pheasant needs a bigger pen, and Mom doesn’t know how to build it. Could you come over and help me make King Tut a better home?”

“Of course. When would be convenient for you?”

“Pretty soon. Could you come today?”

“I think I could arrange that. I’ll bring my tools.”

“I can help.”

“I was counting on that.”

“Good.” Then she just hung up.

Ramah looked at her. “Why didn’t you say good-bye?”

“Didn’t need to. He’s coming right over. That’ll be good, because my mom hasn’t seen him in a long time.”

W
HEN CLAIRE DROVE
up, she saw that two people were busy constructing something in her backyard. She sat in her car and watched them for a moment until Meg saw her and began to jump up and down and wave her hands at her. Then she stepped out of the car. The spring weather had held, clouds floating above the bluffs in the clear blue air. A red-tailed hawk soared in the current off the bluff, and Claire felt her heart rise in her chest. To fly like that would be incredible.

She hadn’t seen Rich since the night they had had a drink together. He was wearing a red flannel shirt with the sleeves pushed up and jeans. He raised a hammer as she watched him and drove a stake into the ground. It looked like King Tut was getting a new pen.

“The royal kingdom expands?” she asked as she walked up.

“Rich said I was right, that King Tut needs a bigger place outside. We’re going to make the walls high so no coyote can get him.”

“Great. Does anyone need any lemonade?”

“Sounds good.” Rich wiped his face with his sleeve and smiled at her.

The two of them followed her into the house about ten minutes later, after having put up the chicken-wire fence.

“He likes it better than the porch, Mom.”

“How can you tell?”

Meg wrinkled her nose, then jumped around the kitchen on one foot. “Because he can peck at the real ground and get little bits of dirt and stuff. Rich says that’s good for him. You know how you always tell me you need to eat a little dirt? Well, I guess pheasants really do.”

“Here, take this lemonade and run outside and watch King Tut peck at the ground for a while.”

Meg leaned into Rich’s leg. “Do I have to go outside? Can’t I stay with you guys?”

“Yes, you have to go. It’s a beautiful day, and I would like to talk to Rich alone.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s my friend too.”

The last statement made Meg laugh, and she went running outside.

“Can I ask you a few questions?” Claire sat down at the table, and he followed suit, sitting across from her.

“Of course. Is this in the line of duty?”

“Yes. Sort of.”

“Ask away.”

“Who do you think killed Landers?”

“Well, the one person capable of it is Darla.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“It’s pure speculation, and you never asked.”

“Did you know that Darla’s son was a transvestite?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“Didn’t think it was pertinent to anything, and you didn’t ask.” Rich wasn’t saying it meanly, just matter-of-factly.

“Anything else you think I should know about this case but I haven’t specifically asked you about?”

“Yeah, Darla’s pretty sick. I’m not sure, but that might make a difference in what has happened.”

Claire leaned back in her chair and took a good look at this thin, well-built man sitting across from her. His face pleased her; it was so angular and full of character. He looked like he worked for a living and spent a lot of time outdoors. He also looked like he was good with his hands, and she knew he could keep a secret. “I want you on my side from now on, okay?”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, let me tell you first that I met Dora today.”

“How was she?”

“Fine, I guess. She found out that Landers was her father.”

Rich screwed up his face in surprise. “That’s one on me. Never guessed that.”

“I think it made her kind of happy.”

“I bet.”

“She also found out that her mom only has a month or two to live, and that she killed Landers, rather on impulse. Darla wanted Landers’ property. She did it so Fred would get the land.”

“What’re you going to do—arrest Darla?”

“I’m not sure yet. I don’t think she’s going anyplace. I have to go talk to the sheriff about this.”

Rich sat and thought for a moment, then said, “You know what this means?”

Claire waited.

“It means that Fred doesn’t get the land. According to what you’ve told me and what I’ve heard, Landers died intestate. His next of kin is Dora. She’ll inherit everything. I wonder if she’ll sell me a chunk of Landers’ property that borders on mine.”

“So Darla doesn’t get her final wish. I think that’s good.” Claire liked the way his mind worked. “So you’ll be on my side?”

“Sure. What’re we playing?”

Claire took a sip of her lemonade. Very sour lemonade. It made her mouth pucker. She had never done what she was about to do before. But she felt sure that it was her turn. So she asked Rich, “I was wondering if you would make yourself available for a date?”

Epilogue

C
laire stood on the edge of the cemetery, watching a doe and two fawns feeding on the new grass. She had always wanted to be cremated until she saw this cemetery. On the side of a hill, cupped in a valley that went down to the lake, it overlooked a wildflower meadow. It was so quiet and peaceful, she actually believed that it might be a good final resting place. She was glad Landers was buried here.

As she stepped onto the grass, the deer stared at her and then turned gently and moved back into the forest. After they were gone, Claire walked slowly around the old gravestones and came to the new one, Landers’ death date chiseled into the granite face. Not even a month ago, he had died. She had been meaning to come up and see him, but she had been so busy.

She bent over and placed a large bouquet of red flowers on his grave:
Tulipa greigii.
He had planted them last year and had been so looking forward to their blooming. She stood in front of his grave and said, “Thank you, Landers. You were right. They bloomed. Just like you said they would, they bloomed.”

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Published in Electronic Format by
TYRUS BOOKS
an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.
4700 East Galbraith Road
Cincinnati, Ohio 45236
www.tyrusbooks.com

Copyright © 1999 by Mary Logue

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

This is a work of fiction.
Any similarities to people or places, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

eISBN 10: 1-4405-3296-6
eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-3296-2

This work has been previously published in print format by:
Walker Publishing Company, Inc.
Print ISBN: 0-8027-3339-5