Raven Stole the Moon (13 page)

T
HE WORLD IS MY OYSTER.
Sam loved saying that to himself while fingering the leather strap that held his .38 Special police issue in its holster. The world is my fucking oyster.

He scanned the Client Information Sheet for Robert Rosen while he waited for a human operator to pick up on the other end of the phone. Nice house, nice car, nice job. Sam should get a good couple of days of work out of this one. The world is my oyster. Sam was amazed, as always, at the amount of personal information someone is willing to give out on demand. With the information on this sheet, Sam could find out everything about Rosen,
and
all his relatives. Hell, he could bankrupt the guy. But Sam would never do something unscrupulous. Private Investigation is about trust. Fortunately, trust costs money.

“Your account number?”

He read it off to her.

“Mr. Rosen? How can I help you?”

Sam snickered and tried to sound like Mr. Rosen would sound.

“Yes, my wife misplaced her credit card for a couple of days, and I wanted to see what the last few charges were so I can make sure nobody else picked it up.”

“Certainly, sir, can I have your Social Security number?”

He read the number off the page.

“And your mother’s maiden name, please?”

“Abrams.”

“Thank you, one moment, please.”

Sam leaned back in his chair and jammed his pinky up his right nostril, probing for something inside. A hundred bucks an hour to make phone calls. What a joke. Sam could solve ninety percent of his “cases” from his office desk. His mind drifted off to Greece again. All morning he had been preoccupied with Greece.

He had just finished typing a report his daughter wrote for her social studies class. The one actual skill Sam had, other than the gift of bullshit, was typing. The report was about this palace on the island of Crete that had so many rooms, everyone called it the labyrinth. The king was named Minos. They used special pillars that were big on the top and little on the bottom because they discovered those were better in earthquakes. Pretty wild, when you think about it. The idea of going to Greece, drinking a lot of ouzo, and watching topless Swedish girls dance on the beach appealed to Sam. Appealed to him very much.

“Mr. Rosen, I have the information for you. The last charges to that card were a Banana Republic in Bellingham, Washington, and, also in Bellingham, the Alaska State Marine Highway. Both charges were made on Sunday morning, posted on Monday.”

Sam jotted down the information.

“Huh. This is strange,” the woman continued.

“What?”

“The Alaska State Marine Highway. There are two charges for the same amount made on the same day. Both for two hundred sixty-five dollars and fifty-six cents.”

“Hmm. That
is
strange.”

“Are those charges authorized?”

“Yes, my wife bought a ticket for Alaska on Sunday, that’s right. But she only bought one, as far as I know. Unless . . .”

“Would you like me to protest the second charge as a double billing? You won’t have to pay interest on the second charge while we investigate.”

“You don’t think that she would have . . .” He let his voice trail off.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s a double charge, Mr. Rosen,” the woman said quickly, picking up on Sam’s suggestion. “It happens all the time. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Well, I guess if you could check on it, I’d appreciate it.”

“Of course, Mr. Rosen. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Sam got off the phone and thought a moment. That’s the Alaska ferry system up in Bellingham. That clicks with the car turning up. He dialed a number.

If people only knew what they could find out for themselves by making a couple of phone calls, he’d be out of business. The bottom line is: people don’t
want
to do anything for themselves. The people who hire Sam are the people who can afford to have others do their grunt work. They like the excitement of hiring a P.I. They want top-secret phone calls and obscure messages. It’s the sensational aspect of it all. This Rosen guy gave Sam a code word that would get him out of any meeting without question.

A cheerful man’s voice this time.

“Tell me something,” Sam began. “If I have about two hundred fifty bucks and I bought a ticket from Bellingham, how far would that get me?”

“When would you begin your travel, sir?”

“Yesterday.”

A laugh. Just give me the answer, idiot.

“Well, sir, a one-way ticket from Bellingham to Skagway is two hundred forty-six dollars, plus tax. Of course, if you were going round trip, the price would be double that. Or if you wanted to spend a
total
of two hundred fifty dollars, you would only get as far as Prince Rupert, which is still in Canada.”

“How long does it take to get to Skagway?”

“It’s a five-day trip.”

“What if I get off earlier?”

“If you got off earlier and you tried to get back on to continue your trip, you would be charged an additional amount equal to the fare between the two ports. For example, if you got off in Sitka with a Skagway ticket, you would be charged—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Thanks.”

Sam hung up. Shit, she could get off anywhere. We’ll have to wait for another credit card charge to show up. She doesn’t seem concerned about using the plastic. Doesn’t figure anyone is tracking her. But why
two
tickets? She went to Alaska with her lover, obviously. That’s original. How romantic. His next call was to Robert.

“Hello, this is the Grotta Azzurra Restaurant calling for Robert Rosen.”

A nervous young woman. “Grotta Az . . . One moment.”

What the hell is the Grotta Azzurra Restaurant? Where do these people come up with this crap?

Robert was all out of breath. “Did you find her?”

“Not yet, but I have a lead. Does she know anyone in Alaska?”

“Alaska? Yeah. She called me this morning.”

“She called you? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was busy.”

“Okay. Maybe you could tell me what she said.”

“She said that I couldn’t ask any questions and that she didn’t know when she was coming back and I couldn’t have her phone number. Alaska? Her family is from Alaska.”

Sam groaned. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“How did you find out about Alaska?” Robert asked.

“She bought a ferry ticket there on Sunday.”

“Wow. Well, I guess everything’s all right, then. She probably went to visit her cousin or something.”

“Oh, yeah?” Sam waited dramatically to drop the bomb. “Then why did she buy
two
tickets?”

Sam could hear the gulp all the way across town. He could see the blood drain out of Robert’s face with his naked eye.

“
Two?
”

“Yeah, she bought two tickets.”

“Yeah.” Robert was sounding beaten, bad. “Two tickets.”

“Look, Mr. Rosen, there comes a time in every investigation when the client has to ask himself, how much do I want to know?”

“Well, she’s not sleeping with anyone else. I would know.”

“How much do you want to know, Mr. Rosen? I can be up in Bellingham in an hour, finding out who saw what. If we can track her to a town up in Alaska, I can send a man on an hour’s notice and with any kind of luck we can have visuals the next day. The question is,
How much do you want to know?
”

There was no response on the other end of the phone. That’s the way is usually is. These guys think they’ve got it all. They’re usually screwing around and deserve it, anyway. They’ve got a secretary who gives good head and they figure that’s not cheating because they don’t stick it in. Such crap. You gotta tend the home fire or it’ll go out on you. Gotta turn them home fries or they’ll get all crispy and burnt.

“Look, Mr. Rosen. I’ll be happy to do whatever you want. You want to think about it? Call me later? I’m here for you. We go when you say go.”

“Go.”

That was quick.

“Go? Are you sure?”

“I said go. Now get your ass up to Bellingham.”

The line went dead. Sam fumed. What TV movie does he think he’s in, hanging up on me? Put a Code Blue Grotto on his file, because he’s going to get some pictures of his wife he’s never going to forget.

Sam dialed one more number before he left the office. He got a message machine.

“Wake up and pack your bags, boy. You’re going to the wilderness, and with any kind of luck, you’re leaving tonight.”

J
ENNA WAS A LITTLE SURPRISED TO BE UP SO EARLY
. I
T WAS ONLY
six thirty, but it was light outside, and she could hear some kind of commotion down on the street. From the window, she could see the hotel owner, Earl, and a guy in a sheriff’s uniform cleaning up some garbage cans that had been knocked over. They were talking about something and stuffing garbage into a plastic bag. At one point, Earl gestured toward Jenna’s window. Then Jenna saw her friend, the dog, tied by a rope to the bumper of the sheriff’s car. The dog looked a little confused and very guilty.

Jenna threw on some clothes and ran downstairs to find out what was going on. When she stepped onto the porch, Earl and the sheriff turned and looked at her with nothing short of disgust. Earl went so far as to shake his head and turn back to his garbage.

“What happened?” Jenna asked.

“That damn dog tore all hell out of my garbage cans,” Earl growled. He tipped one of the cans upright to show that it was dented and chewed on. “Look at this. Look at them teeth marks. What kind of animal could tear up a can like that? That dog is
dangerous
.” Then he threw a glance at the sheriff.

Jenna went over to the dog. He was happy to see her and wagged his tail and stepped in place with his front paws as Jenna approached. She bent down to pet him; he licked her face.

“What have you gotten yourself into?” she asked.

The sheriff came up behind Jenna.

“Is he your dog?”

She shook her head. “No. He followed me out of the woods yesterday, that’s all.”

Earl shouted over, “I bet he’s some half-breed wolf-dog. Some bitch in heat got herself knocked up by a wolf and made a litter of killers. That dog should be put down.”

“Oh, come on, now,” Jenna responded. “He just got into some garbage cans.”

“Just got into—?” Earl couldn’t contain himself. He stared at Jenna, flabbergasted, then went back to his garbage.

“If the dog doesn’t belong to anybody and he’s a menace, he’ll have to be put away.” The sheriff reached down and patted the dog on his head. “Too bad. He’s a good-looking animal.”

“But, Sheriff, don’t you have a dog pound or something? Maybe someone will claim him.”

“We don’t have a pound here, ma’am.”

Jenna looked into the dog’s eyes. He didn’t mean to tear up the garbage cans, she could tell. He was such a peaceful dog, and he had saved her yesterday by helping her get away from the Elephant Man. Earl was busy muttering, “Put that dog down. Put him down.”

“But if I adopt him,” Jenna said to the sheriff, “then you won’t have to kill him, right?”

The sheriff nodded. “True. But the owner will have to pay for the damages. And if you’re the owner, you’ll have to pay.”

Well, it didn’t take Jenna long to make a decision on that. All this dog needed was a good bath and some love and affection. He’d probably been wandering around by himself, eating whenever he could catch a rabbit. He was a real loner, no doubt, abandoned by some fisherman who left town, forced to look after himself. He saw garbage, he smelled food, and he couldn’t control himself. Jenna could readjust him to society, fix him up, and when she left to go home, she would give him to a nice kid who needed a friend. In the meantime, she would be saving an innocent animal from execution.

“I’ll pay.”

Earl jumped up. “Whatdaya mean, ‘You’ll pay’? Just like that? I have to get all new trash cans! That dog is dangerous.”

“I’m adopting him. He’s not dangerous; he just got excited.”

“But—! Look at—!” Earl again went into a frustrated freeze-up.

The sheriff untied the rope from his bumper and handed it to Jenna.

“Here you go. You’ve got to keep him on a leash, though. They’ve got leashes over at the general store.”

Jenna turned to Earl. “You go ahead and put all your new garbage cans on my bill, and add whatever you think is fair for your inconvenience.”

She took the rope and started to lead the dog toward the hotel.

“Now where do you think you’re going, young lady?” Earl asked in a smooth, smug voice.

“Up to my room.”

“Well, now, we have a very strict ‘no dogs allowed’ policy at this hotel. And we especially don’t allow wild pack dogs.”

Jenna looked at Earl to see if he was kidding, but he wasn’t. She appealed to the sheriff, who gave an innocent shrug.

“Now, Earl,” the sheriff started, “I don’t recall—”

“Sheriff,” Earl snapped. “This is a private business and a reputable hotel and our guests depend on not being bothered by dogs running around the hallways and barking all night, like this mangy beast did last night.”

It was obvious that Earl had decided to put Jenna out simply because she had rescued an animal that made his morning inconvenient. And Jenna really didn’t want to fight with him.

“If I can tie him to the rail here, I’ll go up, pack my bags, settle up with you, and go find somewhere else to stay.”

“Nope,” Earl said with a sneer.

“Nope? I can’t check out of the hotel? I don’t think I understand.”

“Not nope you can’t check out, nope you can’t tie that animal up to my property.”

The sheriff groaned. “Oh, Earl, come on. She’s paying for the cans, you kicked her out, let it be, already.”

“Nope” is all Earl said, and went back to his garbage.

Jenna looked at the sheriff and made a plea for some kind of sanity. The sheriff took the rope from Jenna and let the dog into his car.

“I’ll put him in a cell at the jail. You come pick him up when you’re ready.”

“Thank you, Sheriff. I can’t let a dog be killed unnecessarily.”

He nodded and drove off. Jenna went back inside the hotel to pack.

A
FTER
J
ENNA PAID
the dog’s ransom money to Earl, she went over to the general store to see about a leash. The dog needed a name, too. Jenna tried to remember if the Abominable Snowman from
Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer
had a name. She thought the Abominable Snowman’s name would be good because everyone thought he was real mean until the little dentist elf pulled out his sore tooth and everyone realized he was a good guy who had a toothache. Finally, she settled on Oscar, after the guy who lives in the garbage can on
Sesame Street.
Jenna thought that name would fit because of the whole garbage can incident.

Jenna picked out a nice leash and a collar for Oscar. As she paid, she asked the pierced kid with the half-mast eyes if he knew where she could stay that would allow dogs. He thought long and hard and finally said, “The Stikine Inn won’t let you?”

Jenna told him that Earl had kicked her out.

“Well, the only other place is the Sunrise Motel, up the highway toward the airport.”

Jenna thanked him, picked up the collar and leash, and turned toward the door as an older woman came out from the back room. She must have been the pierced kid’s mother, but, interestingly enough, she had no visible piercings on her body. Not even earrings. The pierced kid asked the woman where Jenna could stay with a dog, and then it was the woman’s turn to think a minute.

“You know,” she said to Jenna, “you don’t want to stay at the Sunrise. It’s kind of . . . well, it’s not really a place for a lady.” She thought for another minute. “You should take a walk on down Front Street and there’s a house . . . about ten down . . . it has blue trim . . . and a fellow lives there by the name of Ed Fleming. He has a room to let, and I’m trying to think if he’s got someone there now . . . I don’t think so. He has a room he lets to workers, you know, for the summer, workers at the cannery or on a boat, and I don’t think he’s got anybody in there this year. He’d let you keep your dog. I think you’d rather do that than stay at that Sunrise Motel. I’d check with Ed Fleming first.”

Jenna thanked the woman and left the store.

The house with the blue trim was exactly ten houses down on the right. Jenna’s grandmother’s old house was the eleventh house.

Jenna knocked on the door and after a minute it flew open, revealing a disheveled young man, about thirty or so, with thick sandy brown hair. He had a firm jaw with a three-day shadow, and his eyes were wild and blue. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, so Jenna could see his upper body, which, though muscular, bordered on being too lean. His left arm was in a sling that held it tight across his stomach. There was no cast, but his arm was heavily bandaged from forearm to shoulder.

He looked at Jenna with anticipation, obviously expecting somebody else.

“Sorry,” he said, “I thought you were Field.”

“Field?” Jenna asked.

“Yeah, a friend of mine. He was supposed to come down and help me with my sink since I’m temporarily without the use of my arm.”

Jenna smiled. “Are you Ed?”

“Yeah, I’m Eddie. Where’s your dog?”

That kind of knocked Jenna for a loop. Where’s your dog? How did he know? But then again, why
wouldn’t
he know. So many weird things had happened to Jenna so far, why not this? But it was the
way
he said it that caught her off guard. His familiarity. Or, then again, maybe it was his eyes.

“How did you know about my dog?”

“You’re holding a leash. Sometimes Gilly Woods comes flying around that corner in his pickup and nails a dog right out in front of the house. I’ve seen it happen more times than I’d care to remember. That’s why I asked. I’d keep him on a leash if I were you. It’s a terrible thing to watch a dog die a senseless death.”

Eddie turned and walked into his house, leaving Jenna at the door. She stepped in, not knowing exactly what to do. Eddie kept talking as he walked into the kitchen.

“Not that Gilly means to do it. Sometimes he gets a load on with that Jägermeister. That stuff will rot your brain. Then he thinks Front Street is the Indianapolis Five Hundred and he’s Mario Andretti heading for the checker.”

Eddie jammed his good arm under the sink and started twisting something furiously. His face was mashed against the counter as he tried to reach farther inside.

“He’s not running around,” Jenna said. “The sheriff is keeping an eye on him for me.”

“Good move. He ought to be safe with the sheriff.” He stood up and moved back toward Jenna. “Sorry about that. My sink’s been acting up and I’m waiting on Field, as usual.”

Jenna shifted uncomfortably.

“Uh . . . the woman at the general store told me that maybe you have a room to let and wouldn’t mind if I had a dog.”

“A room to
let
?” He scratched his head. “Well, I’ve got a room, true. And during the season I usually have someone from the boat staying in it, true. . .”

Jenna realized that the woman in the store was possibly being too helpful.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. ”I thought it was more of a—”

“You tried the Stikine Inn?”

“They kicked me out.”

“Hmm. Well, you don’t want to stay at the Sunrise, I guess.”

“No, I’ll go there. It’ll be fine. She just said—”

“You’re welcome to stay here. I don’t mind dogs.”

“But, see, the woman, she said . . . I
thought
she was saying that this was, like, a bed-and-breakfast kind of thing. That you actually
did
this kind of thing.”

“I understand.”

“So that’s why I came. But now that I know that that’s not the case, I don’t have to bother you any longer.”

“It’s no bother.”

“Thank you, but I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing.”

Jenna quickly turned and headed for the door.

“Wait,” he called out. Jenna stopped. “What’s your name?”

“Jenna.” She paused. “Jenna Ellis.”

Why did she use her mother’s maiden name? She had no idea. That’s not true. She knew why. She did it because she wanted to see how Eddie would respond. She didn’t know if he knew her grandmother or if he was new to Wrangell, and she wanted to see if he would put it together.

“Jenna
Ellis
?” He examined Jenna closely. “You know, an Ellis lived next door for a lot of years.”

“My grandmother.”

“Your
grandmother
?”

Eddie paused for a moment and stared into Jenna’s eyes, as if trying to figure out whether or not she was telling the truth.

“Look, Ms. Ellis,” he said. “I don’t
let
a room. I have a room that I let people use when they’re up for the season or something. I have a big house and sometimes I like sharing it. There’s nowhere else on the island for you to stay, basically. So, go get your dog from the sheriff, come down here, and stay in my extra room. I could use a little bit of help, being that my arm is strapped to my side, and you need a room for your dog. So if you don’t mind helping out a little around the house, you’re welcome to use the room. Free.”

“I’m not sure I feel comfortable—”

“Why not?”

Indeed. Why not?

“You know,” he went on, “my dad used to help your grandmother with handyman stuff when she needed it.”

He looked up at Jenna and smiled.

Under normal circumstances, Jenna would much prefer to stay by herself in a motel than in a house with a stranger. However, since she had been alone, more or less, for the past four days, she was kind of itching to spend some time with someone friendly. She sighed and dropped her backpack on a chair.

“Okay. If you really don’t mind. But I have to pay you something.”

He shrugged. “All right. Whatever.”

Jenna left to go get Oscar from the sheriff, and she had to smile to herself as she walked down Front Street. Here she was, in Wrangell only a day, and already things were looking better.