Chapter 41
Jake eyed Maggie, antsy to get out of the office and embark on her rare two-day weekend. She sighed, fidgeted and paced, nervous as a tick.
“How ‘bout we go on our date this Saturday?” Jake asked.
“Not until the case is solved. That’s the deal. Besides that, I plan on staying home this weekend alone. I’m locking the door, sleeping, reading, shutting off my cell, and listening to my entire Chieftain CD collection…all by myself.”
“Sure you don’t want company? I can get off early.”
“Nope.”
“Whatever you say.”
“But, if you were to drop by on Sunday evening, and I happened to have a roast in the oven and I invited you to stay for dinner, to be polite, of course…as long as you don’t call it a date…”
“What time?”
“Seven.”
“What’ll I bring?”
“Ice cream. You pick the flavor.” She glanced at her wrist watch. “I’m outta here. See you Sunday.” Maggie left without waiting for Jake’s reply.
Jake’s Turn
From the first time he saw Maggie, when they were kids, Jake was smitten. He couldn’t talk to her without stuttering. He loved her so much it hurt, but she never seemed to notice. When they were in high school, he asked her to a dance. She said, “I don’t go to those things.” He was devastated. He sat home in his room all night long listening to his old albums. He played Three Dog Night’s, “One is the Loneliest Number” over and over again. He was somewhat encouraged to find out later she’d not gone to the dance either.
He asked her out a few more times, but when she started working on her dad’s old truck and John Winters hung around her all the time, he backed off. Still, whenever he masturbated or later, had sex with other girls, it was Maggie he always thought about. Maggie was chummy with Jake, but for sex, she hung out with the older guys from the college, and then she was accepted to UCLA and left. He didn’t know if he’d ever see her again.
He met Shelly at The Silverado. They got tipsy and danced until last call. She took him home, and he never left. When they married, he knew he’d made a fine choice. She was cute with a great butt, and she was a decent, gentle woman. They both wanted kids, and he knew she’d be a wonderful mother. He loved Shelly even though Maggie would always be his greatest passion.
He’d been glad Maggie was in Los Angeles, then Washington D.C., and later Oakland, because if she were anywhere in Wild River County, married or not, he might still be pursuing her, hoping. Always hoping.
Less than four years into their marriage, Shelly was diagnosed with virulent inflammatory breast cancer, and within a couple of months she was gone. Once more, Jake Lubbock found himself alone. He missed Shelly. For a long while, he grieved her loss, but when Maggie left the Oakland Police Department, and moved back to Wicklow, he began hoping once again.
A date with Maggie Sloan. I’ve been waiting for this for over almost thirty years. Jake sat his desk chair and twirled around like a kid on a merry-go-round.
Happy entered the room. “I’m off, boss.”
“What you up to this weekend?”
“I’m taking the boys fishing to the lake. They’ve been looking forward to it for weeks. Rosa and my daughter are going shopping, getting their nails done, girl stuff. How ‘bout you? What you got planned for the weekend?”
“I’m working, of course.” Jake twirled around in his chair again. “But, I might be having dinner with Maggie on Sunday night.”
“No kidding?” Happy laughed. “Way to go, boss!”
*
By a narrow margin, Happy won the election for sheriff.
“He may not have great experience, but at least he has more integrity than that snake, Brock,” Jake said. “But, honestly, I don’t know how he pulled this off.”
“I think it was our great campaign efforts,” Maggie said. “I wouldn’t worry too much about his lack of experience. As I recall, when you were first elected sheriff, you weren’t much older than Happy, and besides, you’ll be around to help out when he needs you. Good thing you signed up for the reserves, eh?”
“Someone has to watch out for that kid.”
After spending every moment together for months “not dating” Jake invited Maggie out for a special evening. Over a candlelight dinner at Nito’s, he proposed.
“You mean as in ‘get married?’”
“That’s the general idea.”
“Hell, no. But maybe I’ll let you live with me for a month or two as long as we keep things light and on my terms.”
“Everything has always been on your terms, Maggie Tall Bear Sloan. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The following day, he moved into the A-Frame. Having lived since Shelly’s death in a dank one-room efficiency apartment behind the sheriff’s department, all his possessions, except a few pieces of broken furniture, which he donated to the local Goodwill, fit neatly into the cab of his truck.
*
One night, Maggie had stopped by The Silverado to listen to the Ulster Boys. She’d only meant to stay a little while, enjoy the music and have a beer or two, but by the time she arrived home, it was late. Jake was sound asleep with Chester, the two snoring in dead peace, sprawled out on the bed. Samantha, who was curled up in her favorite spot, the front room window sill, jumped down, stretched, and rubbed against Maggie. “How ‘bout we leave the sleeping males alone and you and I cuddle out here tonight?” she said to the cat.
Maggie grabbed a comforter and a pillow, opened the window to let in the cool night air, and with a purring cat on her chest, fell into a bottomless cavern of sleep.
She was startled when she began to shift, black feathers protruding from her arms. The cat leapt off and scooted under the couch. “It’s okay, Samantha. It’s only me.” She reached under the couch. Her fingers were already curling under, transforming. The cat hissed, tucking herself further under the couch until well out of reach.
When Maggie flew through the window, two ravens perched on her roof cawed a greeting to her. She settled near a large male. “Welcome, Sister. We’ve been waiting for you.”
“I don’t know why I’m here,” Maggie said, hopping nearer to him. She scratched behind her ear and ruffled her feathers.
“Because, Pukkukwerek, you aren’t doing your job.”
“You do know that I’m not the pukkukwerek or even a raven. My mother is Yurok. My father Irish.”
“Jajajaja!” The raven laughed. “You believe you have but one father and one mother only? Jajajaja! You think this is a dream and is not real? Your life is the dream, Pukkukwerek. The joke on you is amusing indeed. Jajajaja! Jajajajajajaaa!” The bird laughed so hard, he choked. He shook his head, composed himself, and then broke into uncontrolled laughing again. At last, spent from so much laughter, the bird coughed and caught his breath. “Now it’s time. Fly with us.”
In unison, the birds lifted from the roof. In a mass of caws and clicks, and a flurry of feathers, they set off for the Alps, Maggie in the center. As the birds flew, occasionally unable to contain himself, the raven broke into an isolated, “Jajajajaja!”
All became still save the sounds of wings through the air. The night grew cold and crisp. The lights from the town of Wicklow grew smaller and paler until they disappeared entirely.
The Trinity Alps felt different tonight, yet still beautiful, the night air glorious and the gibbous moon luminous.
The ravens soared higher into the starry night sky, then dropped lower skimming the tops of the trees. They circled, then dipped further landing on a tall rocky ledge. Nestled in a thick stand of conifers was…something.
“Pukkukwerek, don’t you see it?” one raven said. “He’s here.”
*
Maggie awoke drenched in sweat. The cat had jumped back onto the couch and settled on her abdomen. “Jesus, Samantha. Holy crap.”
She shared her nightmare with Jake, and the two re-doubled their efforts to find the killer but one month followed another, and they came up empty-handed. Although their search lost some intensity, Maggie never gave up. “I know he’s out there. We’ll find him.”
Jake stayed by her side, patient, lending a hand when she asked him to.
*
Six months passed, and another six without incident. No missing twin children. No murders.
Dawn sold her condo and invested her money in Mama’s, which had grown from a nice bookstore and coffee shop to the hippest music and poetry venue in all of Wild River County. As a bonus, the lore of the haunting continued to fascinate tourists and locals even though Iggy and Squiggy vacated after they’d last trashed the place. Mama’s thrived. Maggie sometimes experienced strange occurrences at Mama’s. Sometimes, she’d get a whiff of jasmine scent when no other customers were there. Sometimes, she’d see her coffee mug move a few inches on its own across a bistro table. She never said anything to anyone, and always chalked her experiences up to her imagination.
Once in a while, Jake and Maggie had dinner at Nito’s with Rosa and Happy. In spite of the differences in their ages, the four had become tight friends. The more Maggie was around Happy, the more she liked him.
Happy imposed one rule when socializing, that they do not talk about police business, especially about the child killer. “I don’t want Rosa and the kids exposed to the grisly details of those child murders. It would traumatize them, and besides that, I need a break from work. No shop talk when we out like this, please.”
Jake complied. Maggie had a little more trouble keeping her thoughts on the investigation to herself. “You know,” she might say between bites of spumoni ice-cream, “the coroner on the investigation did specify…” That’s when Jake would kick her under the table.
“Ouch. Sorry. So, Rosa, how’s your dad recovering after his bypass?” That would be it, until next dinner out.
Danny and Cathy lost their house and its sixteen acres to a foreclosure. When Maggie found out they were in trouble, she made an offer to her brother. “I’ve got a bit of money. Why don’t you let me help you? Consider it a long-term loan.”
“No. Can’t do that. We have to figure this out on our own.”
“You hit a rough patch, and your business is folding due to no fault of yours. This economy is kicking everyone’s ass.”
“That’s the problem. Bear and Son’s is going under, and in this economically depressed town of only 3,000 people, I’m not likely to find any kind of job that pays a decent wage. Even if I accepted your help, I won’t even be able to afford the taxes on this place.”
“What about Jimmy and the girls?”
“He’ll land on his feet. As a master carpenter, and experienced remodeler, he’ll find something down south.”
“How far down south? Like Sacramento?”
“Like LA.”
“You mean he might move that far away with Flower and Bird?”
“Cathy and I probably will move down with him. There’s no work here.”
Tears threatened Maggie’s eyes. She looked away to compose herself, took a deep breath and turned back to her brother. “I’m so sorry this is happening to you. I don’t want you and Cathy to lose your home. If you move away…God…you’re my family.”
“It’ll work out,” Danny said. “We’ll see plenty of each other. And, thanks for caring. I’m damned lucky to have a sister like you.”
Maggie and Danny embraced for the first time in years.
*
Although she remained in the sheriff’s reserves so she could more easily continue her work on the investigation, Maggie grew antsy and bitchy after repeatedly hitting the same walls.
“I can’t stand this,” she said to Jake over a glass of wine on the deck. “We’ve been looking forever for that sicko child murderer. Maybe I need to step back, take a different approach. In the meantime, I have got to find something else to do before I kill something.”
“Good idea. During those times you aren’t hunting our psycho, why not volunteer, teach a class, take a class, set up your herbology practice, or join a book club? You can do whatever you want.”
“What about you? You’re on call for Happy, but as seldom as he needs you, you have to be getting bored, too.”
“I’m thinking about writing.”
“Writing? Like what? A book?”
“Yeah, I’m thinking of a mystery novel set in Wicklow based on our experiences.”
“No kidding?”
“There’s a local fiction writing group I might join.”
“Okay with me.” She grabbed the pinot noir. “More wine?”
“No, thanks.”
Maggie shrugged. “More for me.” She drained the rest of the bottle into her glass. “You know? I’ve always wanted to run my own bar.”
“A bar? As much as you like to suck up alcohol, sounds right up your alley.”
She smacked him in the shoulder. He laughed and folded her into his arms. “Maggie?”
“Yeah?”
“Sure you don’t want to get married?”
“Hell no.”
*
When The Silverado went up for sale Maggie bought it, and although she had no experience in the restaurant or bar business, she turned it into a profitable venture. Jake joined a writing group and outlined his crime novel. He read pieces of his work every night to Maggie, who considered him an absolute genius. “Grisham has nothing on you,” she said.
They donated time to the local food bank, volunteered for Habitat for Humanity, went on double dates with Happy and Rosa, and Maggie, sometimes with Jake or Happy’s help, but more often on her own, continued investigating the killings. When short-handed, or working on a difficult case, Happy would call in Jake or Maggie, or both, but as sheriff, he did a fair job on his own.
Although The Silverado was an Irish pub, rather than a western-themed bar as the name suggested, Maggie decided to keep it as is. “This way, I don’t have to put out money for new signs, plus the pub is a landmark, familiar to everyone. It’s profitable as it is and I don’t intend to screw anything up,” she said to Jake over coffee one morning.
Jake took a sip of coffee. “What about food?”
“I’m keeping the menu as is, simple Irish peasant chow. Everyone likes the corned beef and cabbage, lamb stew with soda bread, and shepherd’s pie.”
“Smart business strategy.”
“Of course it is. You wouldn’t live with a stupid woman, would you?”
*
Diego Juan José Miramar-Sanchez Ramirez, the fine Irish chef, stayed on. Maggie gave him a raise. “As long as you keep up the good work, you’ll have a job here forever. The customers love your cooking.”
“I was thinking we could add in a beef and leek pasty. What do you think?” Diego asked.
“Sure. Meat pies are great. Go for it.”
“How ‘bout some salmon dishes, too?”
“Whatever you want, Diego. Pasty and salmon is fine. As long as we offer the favorites, and you keep customers coming through the door, you can put anything on the menu you please.”
One slow night she closed the kitchen, and sent Diego home. The last drunken patron slipped off his stool near midnight, and crumpled uninjured to the floor. Maggie helped him to his feet, and sat him down. He’d left a wad of cash on the bar. She counted out what he’d owed her for the drinks and stuffed the rest of the money in his shirt pocket. He mumbled thanks, got up and staggered toward the door.
“I hope you don’t live far. You shouldn’t drive.”
“No worries, dear. My apartment’s a block from here. I’m walking.”
Maggie escorted him out, locked the front door and hung the “closed” sign in the window. When she returned to clean the bar, a slight built woman with blonde hair was seated at the corner stool with an Irish coffee mug in her hand. I don’t remember anyone ordering a coffee drink tonight. She walked behind the customer. “Excuse me. I didn’t see you here. I’m sorry but we’re closed.”
The woman turned around and Maggie backed up so fast she nearly fell over a chair. “Oh, my God.”
“Maggie, you really do need to listen to those ravens, and to your mother, by the way. But, honestly, shame on you. You should buy better quality beans. I never served crappy coffee like this at Mama’s.”
*
Maggie opted not to tell Jake about her encounter with Sally’s ghost. As always, she was certain she’d hallucinated the entire thing given how tired she’d been and, of course, there were the four shots of Jameson’s. After Sally’s specter made the remark about the coffee, Maggie squinted her eyes shut. When she opened them, the apparition had vanished. “I really need to slow down on the drinking,” she said to the empty bar. Nonetheless, she decided to buy a better brand of coffee.
That night, she slept on the couch with Samantha again. She’d not had the raven dream for a long while, and hoped for a good night’s rest, but, no.
“Pukkukwerek. Wake up!” said a large male raven.
“What do you mean? I’m awake. I’m flying with you.”
“You are not awake. You do not see.”
“I see fine. Trees, mountains, the cliff. I see everything.”
“You do not see. Use your feet.”
“My feet?”
The ravens flew over the cabin, and for the first time, Maggie was clear on its location.
She could see.
When she woke, Jake was still sleeping. She wanted to tell him about her dream, to let him know that she had a lead, but thought better of it. “I don’t want to hit him first thing with this,” she said to Samantha. “It’s Sunday.” But, she couldn’t push the image of the cabin out of her mind. She knew Happy was an early riser. She sent a text. “I know where killer hangs out. Remote cabin. Getting close 2 finding the SOB. Can u lend a hand?”
“Killings stopped. Need u 4 more pressing cases.”
“I’ll go alone if need be.”
“No, not alone. Sounds like u r onto something. Got plans with sons. Lake fishing. Tell me where cabin is, & I’ll go after.”
“I want 2 go, & I’m sure when I tell him, Jake will want in.”
“No prob. Thanks for staying on top of this. I’ll text u when/where 2 meet. Stay put 4 now.”
“OK. Thanks. Have fun with ur boys.”
*
She started a pot of coffee, and while waiting for it to brew, made herself a strong Bloody Mary. Jake padded into the kitchen barefooted, his shorts and hair rumpled. “You didn’t make it to bed last night,” he said. “Is that a Bloody Mary? How can you drink vodka at 8 a.m.?”
“Don’t give me any bull.”
“Why didn’t you come to bed?”
“Are you my mother now?”
“No need to be so testy. I missed feeling you next to me, that’s all.”
“Sorry. I don’t mean to be a bitch. I guess I didn’t get enough rest last night.” She took a deep drink from her glass and said, “Tasty. Could use a little more Tabasco, though.” Then shook her glass to rattle the ice cubes. “You and Chester were sound asleep when I got in. Didn’t want to disturb you, so Samantha and I snoozed on the couch.” She told him about her dream. “I finally get what the ravens are telling me. I think the cabin is only accessible by foot.”
“So, that’s why the birds keep talking about using your feet?”
“Exactly. We’ve been looking in the right area but only along logging and service roads. It didn’t occur to me that we should look where motorized vehicles can’t go.” She told him about her text to Happy. “He said he’d help later today. He’ll contact us when he’s ready.”
“All right,” he said. “Let’s meet up with Happy and we’ll search one more time and see if the three of us can’t find that cabin. Then let’s take a break from all this.”
“She handed him her Bloody Mary. He took a sip and made a face. “Shit, Maggie. That stuff could melt chrome off a bumper. You sure you’re going to be sober enough to tromp through the forest today?”
“Want one?”
“Maybe later, and can you make mine with some tomato juice? Jesus!” He shook his head, and set the glass on the counter. He put his arms around her, pulled her into him and kissed her. “I hope you know how much I love you.”
“I know.” She kissed him back. When he left the room, she picked up the glass and downed the remainder of her Bloody Mary in hearty gulps. She poured coffee into two mugs and carried them to the deck.
“I’m so damned glad we can almost live a normal life like normal people,” Maggie said as they settled on the back porch chairs with their mugs. “Once we find that bastard, we are going to Kauai for a month. Maybe Happy, Rosa and the kids can come with us.”
“Deal,” said Jake. “We’ve all been through enough to last a lifetime.”
“It’s going to be a beautiful week,” Maggie said. “I thought maybe…” The phone rang.
“C.O.L.,” she said pointing to Samantha curled up on her thighs. The acronym meant, ‘Cat on Lap,’ which also meant Jake would have to answer the phone.
A few minutes later he emerged. “I hate to do this, but I have to go into the sheriff’s office.”
“What’s up?”
“Happy needs me. He’s got long-standing plans to go fishing with his sons and I guess his new deputy, Mike, called in sick.”
She sipped her coffee. “Happy did mention something about lake fishing. Well, I think I’ll turn off my cell, then, and spend some time working on the case undisturbed. ” She grabbed the phone from the top of the side table, and pushed the “off” button. “I’m thinking I might go to White Cliff and nose around for that cabin on my own.”
“No, wait, I want to go with you. Besides, if Happy said he’d lend a hand, let’s take him up on that. Three of us have a better chance of locating the place, and, once we find it, we don’t know what we might run into. Good to have back up.”
*
Happy was at the office when Jake arrived. “Get out of here and enjoy the day. Hope you hook a record breaking bass.”
“I’ll get back this afternoon. I’ve got someone to cover while we look for that cabin.”
“Good deal. Now, go have some fun with your kids.”
“That’s all I’m doin’ —fishin’ and hangin’ with my sons, by golly. I’m not going to even think about this darn place for a few hours.” Happy moved toward the door, but as he reached for the knob, he hesitated and swung around to Jake. “So, what’s Maggie up to while she’s waiting for us? Sounds like she’s onto something, but I don’t want her to get worked up or she’ll take off for the Alps to try to find this place on her own. You know how she can be, especially about this case.”
“Don’t I know it? Catching this killer is her life’s mission. But, the way she’s sounding, I think she’s close to finding out who the psycho is. Good news is she promised to stick around the A-frame, do some research until we all meet. She even shut off her cell, I guess so I won’t bug her.” Jake laughed. “Now, go. Your boys need time with you.”
*
If it weren’t for watching a pair of flies copulating on his desk, Jake would be bored to the edge of madness. He thought he’d examine the old evidence on the serial killer while in the office. They were missing something obvious, and he was certain if he looked again, he might figure it out, but his mind wasn’t on work. He sat on the edge of the desk, banging his heels on the metal side, daydreaming about Maggie. He looked at his watch. As soon as we’re done looking for that cabin, and Maggie and I are finally alone tonight…hot damn.
As he was about to refill his coffee mug, the phone rang.
“Jake?” Rosa, said. “Where’s Happy? I thought he was in the office! God! I’ve been calling his cell. I’ve left four messages, and he’s not answering or picking up. I need to talk to him right away. It’s an emergency.”
“What’s wrong? Are you all right?
“I told you, I need to talk to Happy right now. I don’t have time to chat, Jake. Let me talk to Happy. I am so upset that I can’t…”
“Wait. Slow down and tell me what happened.”
“One of the boys’ has a ruptured appendix. It’s bad. Juan’s in surgery. I rushed him to the hospital myself. I’m worried sick. I called my parents, and they are on the way, but I can’t find Happy anywhere. He must…”
“Hold on. Isn’t Happy at the lake with both boys?”
Rosa hesitated. “No, of course not. What are you saying?”
“He told me he was going fishing with your sons.”
“I thought he might be there at the office. I guess he could be at the cabin. But, there is no cell reception out there. I was hoping he might call in at least. The boys are with me. I don’t…”
“What cabin?”
She sighed. “He’ll be so angry if I tell you...”
“What cabin, Rosa?”
“He goes to his place near White Cliff to be alone. He says he needs quiet time to escape the stress. Everything gets to him because he’s high strung. Always been like that. That’s why he goes on so many solo hunting and fishing trips to Oregon and Washington. I wish he would take the boys, but he rarely does anything with them.”
“I never knew anything about a cabin. Happy’s never mentioned anything to me about it.”
“He wants to keep it private. He calls it his ‘secret lair.’ I know he’ll be upset I told you.”
Jake drummed his fingers on the desk. “So, how often does Happy go to his cabin?”
“He hasn’t been in a long time, but he used to go, oh, several times a year.”
“How many times the last two years?”
“Three times,” she paused. “No, four.”
“Sure it wasn’t more?”
“Maybe, why?”
“When was he there last?”
“Why are you asking me all these questions? I don’t have time for this. I need to find Happy.”
“I’m going personally to look for him, Rosa. If you answer my questions, it’ll help me figure out where he is. When did he last go?”
“I need a second to think about it.” She was quiet for a moment. “I remember. It was the weekend of Lucille Ortega’s wedding. Oh, gosh. That was a long time ago, maybe a year.”
“Where exactly is the cabin?”
“I don’t know. He never took me there. I used to think he had another woman stashed, but then I realized that wasn’t it. He always comes home in a good mood and says that he feels refreshed, his power renewed. He’s one of those men who needs time to himself to recharge. That’s all it is, really.”
“I want you to stay at the hospital with your son. I’ll look for Happy. I’m going right now to find that cabin.”
“He’ll be so upset with me for telling you.”
“I think he’ll want to know Juan is in surgery given how much he loves those boys.”
“You’re right. I’ll wait for your call, then. If you hear from him, tell him to come directly to the hospital. Thanks, Jake. Bye.”
Jake pulled up the investigation archives and crossed-checked the online database and calendar.
Every time sets of twins went missing, Happy was off work.
When Bobby Jenkins turned up murdered, Happy was off work.
When Mingan went missing, Happy was off work.
When Sally’s neck was broken and her heart cut out, Happy was off work.
Jake combed his fingers through his hair. I’ve known Happy since he was a scrawny kid right out of college. Can’t be. Goddamn it! God fucking dammit!
Jake dialed Maggie. Her phone went to voice mail. God. That’s right…she turned it off. He locked the office, jumped into his car, and sped toward the Alps.