The plan had been to go back to the office, and now the plan had changed. Thumps pulled into the Cash & Carry, parked at the far end of the lot. How had he spent that first night? At the Humboldt County Sheriff’s office? At the beach where Anna and Callie had died? Working the scene?
No.
He hadn’t even been in town. He had been at a forensics conference in San Diego, staying in an upgraded room with a view of the ocean, eating shrimp, drinking red wine, watching cable TV and a pay-per-view movie.
A morning breakfast buffet with food piled high in hot trays.
He didn’t find out what had happened until he got back to Eureka. Much too late to do anything other than bury that part of his life. The days and nights, after that, all ran together, a blur of anger and frustration.
And sorrow.
That was what Thumps could remember most vividly. The dark, burning sorrow. And the intense and uncomplicated urge to kill the man who had left his lover and her child on a moonless beach in front of a running tide.
Macy hadn’t been murdered. And maybe that was worse. No one to blame, nowhere for the rage to go. Thumps had gotten the satisfaction of ending the man who had massacred Anna and Callie. Duke knew his wife’s killer, but what was he supposed to do with a disease?
Arrest it?
Shoot it trying to escape?
Everywhere you looked, there was no satisfaction. No peace.
THUMPS HADN’T REALIZED how long he had been sitting in his car in the parking lot, until he looked at his watch.
An hour?
Impossible.
Next time he was at the mall, he’d take the thing to the watch store and have it checked out.
Thumps fished his cell out of his pocket. Cooley answered on the first ring.
“Chinook Sheriff’s Office.”
“Cooley.”
“Hey, boss.”
“Who’s got the evening shift?”
“I do.”
Thumps let the silence settle in around him. “I thought I had graveyard.”
“You did,” said Cooley, “but I figure if you have to ask, you’ve got business needs attending.”
“You mind?”
“Naw. I got coffee and doughnuts, and Scoop is bringing over some stew.”
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Scoop may stay over. That okay?”
Thumps smiled. “As in, sleep in the holding cell?”
“Cleaned it out good. Fresh sheets, quilt, painted over the graffiti on the walls. Doesn’t smell like sweat and vomit anymore.”
“Woman must really love you.”
“Hope to hell you’re right,” said Cooley. “Bought the quilt with my own money.”
CLAIRE MERCHANT LIVED on the reservation, on a section of land above the Ironstone. You could see the river from her living room window, and the mountains to the west from the kitchen.
Thumps had two distinct impressions concerning the house and the location. Beautiful and isolated.
Rather like Claire.
There was a late-model van parked next to the Russian olive that guarded the driveway. The tree was doing its “just about to die” routine, the same routine it had been doing since it was planted. In all likelihood, it would outlive the lot of them.
Thumps turned toward the shout. People. On the high ground beyond the barn.
Great.
He had come to see Claire, to talk to her, and instead had stumbled on a party.
“Thumps!”
Big Fish Patek. And Lorraine Chubby.
Thumps hiked up the long rise. Little Hack and Ivory were chasing each other in the prairie grass. Big Fish and Lorraine and Claire were holding down a blanket. There was food spread out, a cooler off to one side.
Claire shaded her eyes. “Didn’t expect to see you.”
“Spontaneity,” said Thumps. “The spice of life.”
“Thought it was salt,” said Big Fish.
Lorraine gave Big Fish a whack on the shoulder. “Don’t listen to him. He thinks a romantic evening is shooting pool while watching a football game on the big-screen.”
Claire moved over, made a space for Thumps. “How’s Duke?”
“Hard to say.”
“But you’ve seen him since Macy died, talked to him.”
“Took him to lunch today,” said Thumps. “That new pizza place on Main.”
“Should have brought him out to the Mustang,” said Lorraine. “Eat with friends. Yo-Yo would have cooked him up one of his famous cheeseburgers.”
Ivory came charging onto the blanket with Little Hack at her heels. Both kids slid into the cooler.
Claire put a hand out to protect the food. “Careful.”
Little Hack made a face. “She told me I had to eat a grasshopper.”
Ivory rolled up against her mother. “Indians eat grasshoppers all the time.”
“No, we don’t,” said Claire.
“And then she threw grass at me.”
Lorraine shook her head. “Well, then I guess Sheriff Thumps is going to have to arrest you.”
“Deputy sheriff,” said Thumps. “Temporary.”
“You think Duke is going to come back?” said Big Fish.
“There a reason you came out?” Claire’s voice was flat, with no apparent emotion. She didn’t sound annoyed. She didn’t sound happy. And she didn’t sound curious.
“Just in the area.”
Claire smiled. “Picnic. So the kids could get together.”
“Think dog park,” said Big Fish.
“You two should stop screwing around and get married,” said Lorraine.
“We could be your model,”said Big Fish.
“And then again . . .” said Lorraine.
“Mommy,” said Ivory, “are you going to marry Dog?”
“What Mommy is going to do,” said Claire, “is eat another sandwich.”
“Are we going to have to eat sandwiches for supper?”
Little Hack raised a hand. “Ivory went all funny again.”
“Did not.”
“Did so.” Little Hack froze, his arms hanging at his sides, his eyes staring off across the land. “Like that.”
“Eat grasshoppers,” said Ivory.
“They’re not bad if you dip them in chocolate,” said Thumps.
“Eww,” said Ivory.
Claire rolled up, got to her feet. “You have time?”
“Sure.”
“Problem with the barn,” said Claire. “Now that you’re out here, maybe you could have a look.”
“We’ll watch the kids,” said Lorraine. “You two lovebirds take your time.”
THE SUN WAS on the horizon, throwing long shadows across the land. Thumps followed Claire down the slope. She walked around to the shady side of the barn and stopped.
“There’s nothing wrong with the barn.”
Thumps nodded. “Okay.”
“Thought we should talk,” said Claire. “Might as well be now.” The day was working its way to evening. Up on the rise, Little Hack and Ivory were on the move again, chasing each other.
Big Fish was right. Dog park.
“Remember when we were looking at houses?” Claire folded her arms, leaned against the barn. “When we were thinking about living together?”
Ivory had found a stick somewhere, was waving it around, trying to knock the clouds out of the sky.
“And then we stopped?”
“You want to start again?”
Claire turned away for a moment. “It helped to settle some things for me.”
“You don’t want to live together.”
“I don’t.”
“So, I suppose marriage is out as well.”
It wasn’t a smile, but neither was it a frown. “You’re a good man,” said Claire.
Now Little Hack had the stick and was beating the grass for tigers.
“I got pregnant young. Stanley’s father stayed around for the first few months. After that I was on my own. I was young, stupid, and scared. There was no time to enjoy a baby, no time to ease into motherhood. Those years are a blur.”
“And now you’re a mother again.”
“And now I’m a mother again. Now I’m smarter. I don’t have to worry about money. I’d like to enjoy the second time around.”
Thumps waited.
“But I don’t want to have to depend on anyone. And I don’t want to have to negotiate with another person when it comes to Ivory.”
“Okay.”
“We can still spend time together,” said Claire. “But you can’t be my husband, and you can’t be Ivory’s father.”
“Not much left.”
“A friend,” said Claire. “To me and my daughter.”
Thumps couldn’t see Big Fish or Lorraine now. Or the kids for that matter. He imagined the adults stretched out on the blanket, Ivory and Little Hack curled up next to them like a tumble of puppies.
“You think that’s possible?”
Thumps pulled his hands out of his pockets, hitched his pants. “I should get back.”
Claire nodded. “When you see Duke, tell him I said hi.”
“I will.”
“I’m no good at sympathy,” said Claire. “Don’t even do it for myself.”