Jackrabbit Junction Jitters (17 page)

A horse made out of bound twigs stuck half way out of the
bag.

Claire let go of the safe door, which remained mostly closed
this time. She picked up the twig figure. “I don’t think it’s a toy.”

“Are there more of them in the bag?”

Claire laid the figure on her thigh and gingerly reached her
hand in the bag opening. Something scratchy brushed her fingertips, some kind
of cloth, possibly. She pulled it out and unrolled it.

“Looks like some kind of homemade sandal,” she said, brushing
her fingers over the rectangular sole made of brittle, woven fibers. There was
a hole in the heel where the fibers had loosened or worn away. A strip of
scarred, tattered leather hung from it.

“This might be the piece that tied it to your ankle.”
Several strands of what felt like human hair lay in a flat loop near the front
edge. “And this could be for your big toe.”

“Cool.” Jess echoed Claire’s thoughts. “How old do you think
it is? All of the drawings in our history books show the native people wearing
moccasins.”

“I don’t know.” Claire turned the sandal over, then held it
out toward Jess. “My nose is fried. What’s it smell like?”

Jess jerked back. “You want me to sniff a shoe that hasn’t
been washed for like hundreds of years? I don’t think so.”

“Come on, you big chicken. I just want to know if it smells
like grass or straw or what.”

Jess shook her head.

“I’ll give you a dollar.”

“Make it twenty.”

Claire laughed. “Dream on. How about five?”

“I won’t do it for under ten. I have my standards.”

“Fine, ten. Now smell.”

Jess leaned down and sniffed the sandal.

“Well? Old grass?”

“No. More like old dirt.”

Claire rubbed her brow. Why would something hidden for years
in Joe’s safe smell like dirt?

Jess nodded at the bag. “It looks like there is something
still in there.”

Claire stuck her hand in past her wrist this time. There was
something in the bottom. The texture reminded Claire of dried leather, the
surface bumpy. As she tried to draw it out, it kept getting caught in the
fibers of the bag.

“What is it?” Jess leaned close, her eyes wide.

Claire could actually smell the fruity perfume Jess had been
spritzing all morning, which meant the kid must be swimming in it. Ruby’s poor
customers were in for a treat if they popped into the General Store today.

With a gentle, but firm tug, Claire pulled the last item
free. She flipped it over and blinked.

Holy shit!

Jess screamed in her ear.

* * *

“I found a hand,” Claire whispered to Kate an hour later
over a BLT sandwich while the two of them sat on The Shaft’s back patio.

“You found a what?” Kate blurted.

“Shhh! A hand.” Claire swallowed some sweet, icy lemonade. Finally,
her taste buds were coming back online.

Kate pushed her Jackie O sunglasses on top of her head. “You
mean the kind with five fingers.”

“Four—the thumb’s partly chewed off.”

“Why are you whispering? There’s nobody else crazy enough to
sit out here in this sauna.”

“I don’t know.” Claire brushed away a drop of sweat running
down from her temple.

The sun blazed all around them, the large overhead umbrella
spotlighting them with shade, which did little to quell the pizza-oven heat.
The slight breeze barely ruffled the string of plastic Arizona state flags
hanging from the gutter, let alone cut the pea-soup-thick humidity. The glass
door into the bar was closed, no doubt to keep the cool air inside.

Eating in the heat usually made Claire nauseated, but she
needed to talk to her sister in private, and there was no such thing as privacy
at the R.V. park—not with Jess and Deborah patrolling the place. And while Kate
hadn’t been thrilled at the idea of eating at The Shaft and possibly running
into Butch again, no pun intended, Claire had assured her the bar owner took
Sundays off. So here they were, roasting and bloating like two-day-old road
kill.

On that thought, Claire pushed the last half of her sandwich
away and focused on her glass of lemonade. It was sweating, too.

Kate swallowed the last of her sandwich. Vertical lines
creased the skin between her blonde eyebrows. “A real hand?”

Claire nodded. “Mummified.”

“That’s disgusting.” Kate’s nose wrinkled. “Did you bring it
with you?”

“Of course not. It’s not a rabbit’s foot. It’s a freakin’
human hand.”

Claire shivered at the memory of the feel of the hardened
leathery skin, similar to the stiff pig’s ears Henry liked to chew on while
watching Gunsmoke with Gramps.

Jess’s reaction still had Claire’s eardrums aching. Bribery
hadn’t been enough to keep the teenager’s lips sealed about their find. Claire
had had to resort to blackmail, too.

Which reminded her, before returning to Ruby’s, they had to
swing by the hardware store to buy the pink fuzzy makeup bag on display in the
Ladies’ Department—aka Aisle Ten: Housewares, Hosiery, and Hygiene.

“Why was Joe keeping it in a safe?” Kate asked. “Who keeps a
mummy’s hand in their office?”

These were questions that Claire had already asked herself
over and over. Where had the hand come from? Was there a body somewhere too?
How long did it take for a body to mummify anyway?

First thing tomorrow, she planned to make a trip to the
library in Yuccaville to find some answers. “You got me.”

“Do you think it belonged to someone he knew?”

“No. I think Joe would have gotten rid of a body, removed
all evidence, not kept souvenirs. He might have been a bad man, but he wasn’t
twisted.”

The patio door slid open and Mac stepped out into the
sunshine, shading his eyes.

Claire frowned. She hadn’t expected to see him for another
few hours.

Kate sipped at her water, oblivious that Mac was walking up
behind her. “Are you going to show it to Sheriff Harrison?”

“Show what to the sheriff?” Mac pulled out the chair next to
Claire. He skimmed her lips with a kiss and then dropped into the chair.

Claire gave him bonus points for not making any skunk
comments.

“Claire found a hand.” Kate’s blue eyes sparkled.

“How’d you know we were here?” Claire asked Mac, wondering
if he’d been back to the perfumery, as she now called the General Store.

“I saw Ruby’s Ford out front and figured it was you. Harley
wouldn’t let you drive Mabel in your condition, huh?”

“He said she’s off limits until I stop peeling paint from
the walls.” Claire offered him a drink of her lemonade.

“Tell him about the hand, Claire.”

Mac took a big gulp, then set it back down in front of Claire.
“What’s Kate talking about?”

“First,” Claire said, “tell me why you’re back from the mine
so soon.” Mac didn’t change his plans on a whim. She had the feeling something
had changed them for him.

“I saw something I didn’t like,” Mac answered, “so I cut out
of there early.” He nodded at Claire’s sandwich, his eyebrows raised. She
shoved the plate toward him.

“Claire figured out how to open the safe,” Kate said.

“You opened the safe?” He bit into the BLT.

“Yes.” Claire waved his question off. That was old news. She
wanted to hear his story. “What did you see in the mine?”

Kate grabbed Mac’s arm, gaining his attention. “She figured
out the PIN based on clues Joe had planted in the campground map.”

Mac turned back to Claire. “I saw a cup. How did you figure
out the map had the answers?”

“What do you mean you saw a cup? Mac, you’re not making
sense. Tell me what happened.” It wasn’t like him to turn tail and run, not
even in the face of a pissed off javelina.

“Inside the safe was a mummy hand,” Kate added.

“A mummy hand?” Mac stopped chewing and leaned toward
Claire. “Has Kate been drinking already?”

“Claire, tell him about the hand.”

“Okay, stop, both of you.” Claire’s head spun. The heat wasn’t
helping matters. Another hour out here and she’d be wringing out her underwear.
“Mac, you explain what happened at the mine, and then I’ll fill you in on the
safe.”

Mac swallowed the last bite of her BLT and pushed the plate
to the side. “There’s not much to tell. Somebody visited the mine last night
after I left.”

“Could it have been some kids up there partying?” Claire
asked.

“I didn’t see any beer bottles or roaches, just a paper
coffee cup with a few drips still in it.”

Claire sat forward, trying to ignore that her deodorant was
melting down her ribs. “You think someone from the mining company was checking
it out?”

“I don’t know.”

“What about that lawyer you told me about?” Kate said to
Claire. “The one who keeps sending Ruby letters about the Lucky Monk. Could he
have hired someone to check out the mine?”

“That’s a possibility. Or maybe Joe hid something in there
and one of his old cronies is back in town to get it.”

Kate was sitting forward now too. “Or maybe somebody went up
there last night to hide something in one of the chambers.”

“They could have been dumping a body down a shaft!” Claire’s
voice rose in excitement.

Kate grinned. “That reminds me of when we found that dead
porcupine floating in that water-filled shaft in the mine behind Gramps’s
place.”

“Whoa, both of you!” Mac pointed at Claire, his gaze
serious. “Listen, Agatha Christie, let’s keep to the facts for now. Your wild
theories last spring landed you in the hospital.”

“Fine.” Sighing, Claire crossed her arms over her chest. But
she was going to explore this subject more later, preferably in the Lucky Monk’s
cool interior, possibly without Mac present.

“Now, tell me about the safe.” Mac sat back in his chair.

Claire took a deep breath and caught him up on the whole
story. Kate listened wide-eyed–some of the tale new to her, some of it a
repeat.

“So, why do I have a feeling you’re not going to turn this
mummified hand into the police?” he asked.

“They’ll just put it in a plastic bag and lock it away in a
filing cabinet somewhere. This is too important.”

“How do you know it’s important?”

“Mac, it’s mummified. You know that process doesn’t happen
overnight. Wherever this hand came from, there’s probably a body too, and I
have a feeling Joe knew where it was.”

“I still want to know why he stuffed the hand in his wall
safe,” Kate said.

Claire shrugged. “Maybe he skimmed the bag and its contents
from a shipment of stolen artifacts he was transporting.”

Mac crunched on a piece of ice. “I’m sure the state
archaeological society would be interested in looking at it.”

Maybe Mac knew somebody at the university who could help
them. Claire smiled at him, touching his arm, preparing to spread some honey.

Mac laughed and caught her hand. “No way, gorgeous. Don’t
even ask.” He kissed the inside of her wrist, softening the blow of his
refusal. “Why don’t you just let the authorities figure this out? You have
enough to do with running the store and campground while Ruby and Harley are
away, plus taking care of Jess.”

Kate grinned. “And your mother.”

“But what if there are more artifacts hidden around Ruby’s
place?” Claire tried to ignore the feel of his fingers now tickling her inner
forearm. The cheater—he knew that usually made her all breathy and
wobbly-kneed. “If I turn these things in and the wrong person catches wind of
it, we may have more than a burglar prowling around the place.”

“You think that’s what the burglar was looking for?” Kate
asked.

Claire shook her head. “I’d lay my money on that pocket
watch. It has to be worth some bucks.”

Kate tucked a curl behind her ear. “You think Joe skimmed
that too?”

“Who knows?” Claire pulled her arm from Mac’s grasp. She was
already hot and bothered thanks to the sun and Joe’s shenanigans. Much more of
Mac’s teasing and she’d melt into a sticky pool of goo on the patio.

“The problem with Joe is he’s dead,” she continued. “We have
no idea how deep his hands were in this shit.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Mac blew out a breath. “Claire,
you’re endangering everyone staying at Ruby’s. If we let the sheriff know, he
can provide some security. Possibly have his deputy drive through the R.V. park
a couple of times a night—at least while Ruby and Harley are on their honeymoon
and I’m in Tucson.”

“You don’t think we girls can take care of ourselves?”

“There are always Manny and Chester.” Kate threw out.

“Those guys are too busy chasing tail,” Mac said.

He had a point there. “You’re forgetting about Ruby’s guns.
I’m no stranger to a trigger, Mac.” Claire reminded him.

“That’s reassuring.”

Claire stuck her tongue out at him. “I’m telling you, our
best bet is keeping our lips sealed. Right now, we have one burglar. We tell
the world what’s in that safe, and we could end up with several of Joe’s old
business associates milling around. It’ll be like a modern-day version of the
O.K. Corral.”

Kate stood, fanning her yellow T-shirt she’d snagged at the secondhand
store. “The ladies’ room is calling. I’ll be back.”

“What are you going to do next?” Mac asked as Kate left.

“Visit the library and see if the Anasazi or Mogollon
cultures mummified their dead. I’ll also see if I can find out more about that
pocket watch.”

Mac captured her right hand, lacing his fingers through
hers. “Why do I have the feeling that by the time I get back Friday night, you’re
going to be up to your ears in trouble?”

Claire scooted closer to him, wishing he weren’t leaving her
for five long days and nights. She was going to miss his touch, his scent—well,
that was, as soon as her nose started fully working again.

“I’ll be good. Kate will keep me out of trouble.”

“Right.” He chuckled, capturing her chin and drawing her
lips toward his. “She’s the kettle, and you’re black. Just promise me you’ll
stay out of the mines.”