I put my arm around her. “It’s a real mess, isn’t it?”
She nodded without speaking.
“Why don’t we have a cup of coffee to sort of get our eyes focusing properly and then go to Dilly’s for breakfast?”
She sighed. “That’s about the only thing to do, Darcy. Everything inside the house is torn up and I don’t really have the heart to tackle it. Maybe I’ll feel better after some of Artie’s pancakes.”
“And, Mom, if the inspector says there has been extensive damage to the foundation and supports, it might be a good time to think about moving to a newer house, don’t you think?”
Mom glared at me. “Now Darcy, we’ve been all through this. The house is old but then I’m no spring chicken any more either. Would you want to throw me out if I had a car wreck and needed a lot of expensive surgery? No? I don’t want to throw out this old house either. I’ve got a lot of good memories of your dad wrapped up within these walls.”
Was there ever anybody as hardheaded as Flora Tucker?
Much of Levi must have had the same idea we had, because the parking lot at Dilly’s was full. Thankfully, the cafe looked intact. A fallen tree lay near the parking lot. I would guess it had once been across the lot but had been dragged away to make room for customers. Artie waved us to a booth that had just been vacated. Tony wiped off the table and with a flourish handed us the breakfast menu.
“Glad to see you two are all right,” Tony said. “Levi was lucky that we didn’t have more damage. There’s a crack running up the wall of the kitchen but that’s all we’ve seen, so far.”
I sat down and relaxed. I loved this place.
We were halfway into our pancakes when Zack Crowder ambled over to our booth. I smiled at this young man who was a third or fourth cousin, I wasn’t sure which.
“Darcy, Aunt Flora, do you mind if I sit down?”
I scooted over to make room. “Would you like some coffee? I don’t see much of you anymore. Your mom said you are driving a truck. Who are you driving for?”
Zack frowned. “I drive for this one and that.”
Tony came by with the coffee pot to refill our cups. “Gary Worth, is who I heard,” Mom said.
I popped another bite of crusty brown pancake into my mouth. “Your mother was worried about you the other day. Do you drive out of town?”
He was silent and Mom tapped my foot with her toe.
I shook my head at my mother. So, okay, maybe it was a nosy question but a reporter had to be nosy, didn’t she? However, I didn’t want Zack to be offended and leave in a huff. “Sorry, Zack, curiosity of the reporter.”
“That’s okay. I wanted to ask you, Darcy, if you’re going to go ahead with that book.”
“Well, sure I am. Why would I not?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Sometimes people around here get kind of nervous when reporters start asking questions.” He twisted a high school class ring on his left hand.
“Surely nobody would object to answering questions if they have nothing to hide.”
“Darn it, Darcy, some of the people in town think that you’re going to be sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong. Why can’t you just let well enough alone?” Zack asked.
What was it about my nose? Doc McCauley had objections to it too.
Zack was shredding a paper napkin. “It stands to reason that if you are getting involved in another police matter, you might be putting yourself in danger. I heard talk about a dead guy being found squashed outside your house after the quake. Rumor is that he was carrying a gun.”
Suddenly Dilly’s pancakes lost their flavor. Dilly’s must surely be the most efficient purveyor of information in the whole state. How under the sun did Zack already know the details of Rusty Lang’s death? And if Zack knew, his mother knew, and Earlene Crowder considered it her civic duty to pass along every juicy tidbit that fell upon her eager ears.
Zack slid out of his seat and stood looking down at me. “Why can’t you just be happy with helping Aunt Flora and puttering around your yard? You don’t need to be doing any writing about Levi. Folks around here are kinda private.”
After he left, I looked over at my mother. A frown creased her forehead. “I’m not much hungry any more, Darcy.”
“Nor am I. Let’s go, Mom.”
“I need to run across to the grocery store. I’ll be along to the car in a few minutes,” she said. “There’s a food sale going on ’cause a lot of canned stuff was dumped on the floor. If the cans aren’t actually dented or damaged, I don’t mind buying them.”
I was so lost in thought as I left Dilly’s that I almost bumped into one of Levi’s oldest and most colorful characters. Burke Hopkins put out a hand and grabbed my arm. “Whoa there, Darcy. I didn’t mean to run into you.”
I grinned and shook his hand. “Mr. Hopkins, it was my fault. I should have watched where I was going.” I had always admired this man. My dad used to say there wasn’t a person anywhere more honest than this old gentleman who stood smiling in front of me.
Burke Hopkins was Cherokee. Although I had not seen him for about ten years, his brown leathery face looked the same as I remembered. He had to be nearly ninety because he had two sons who were in high school with my mother and she was 67. He let go of my hand and heaved a case of Dr. Pepper into the back of the truck parked at the curb. He had evidently been to the grocery store, too.
“How are you, Mr. Hopkins? You don’t look a bit older than you did the last time I saw you.”
He chuckled. “Oh now, I bet you learned how to make an old man feel good while you were down there in the big city. Why, I’ve got a birthday coming up and I’ll be 89.” He stepped back onto the sidewalk. “Actually, you don’t look a bit older than you did the last time I saw you either. I think you must have been about 16.”
I laughed out loud. “If I looked 16 the last time you saw me, it must have been 25 years ago!”
Although his father had been half Cherokee and half Hispanic, Burke Hopkins was clearly the son of his Cherokee mother. With his hooked nose, prominent cheekbones, and the still-thick snowy hair, he was the kind of man who stood out in a crowd. His bushy brows were black as a crow’s wing and his narrowed eyes were the color of tarnished copper. Time had not bent his broad shoulders. He would retain his dignity and character as long as there was a scrap of Burke Hopkins.
I noted his scuffed boots, blue jeans, and red plaid shirt, faded as was the man who wore them, but impeccably clean and well fitting.
“Are you still living in that pretty white house south of town?” I asked.
“Oh yes, with Wolf and Ranger. I’ve got those old dogs beat as far as age goes but they’re sharp as tacks, don’t talk back to me, and tell me if a stranger is coming. Now who could ask for more?”
“Sounds like the best of worlds to me. You used to keep a flock of hens, too.”
He nodded. “Still do. I sell the eggs at the farmer’s market every Saturday. Course, the quake might have put them off their egg laying for a spell. It sure riled up my two old dogs.”
His deep voice softened. “I was sorry to hear about your husband dying, though, Darcy. Bad trouble, that.”
I swallowed the painful lump that clogged my throat at the mention of Jake. Hurriedly, I changed the subject. “I can remember when you and my dad used to go fishing together and stay on the river all night.”
He nodded, and pushed his old black Stetson away from his forehead. “Yes, and then we’d build us a little fire out of tree branches along the creek and fry up some catfish and perch for breakfast.”
Hopkins patted my arm then stepped back a little and his big, warm, calloused hand slid down my arm and folded around my hand. For a moment we stood on the sidewalk together, remembering the past.
Suddenly he seemed to freeze as an odd expression creased his face. His black brows v’d down over his nose and his eyes seemed to look through me and not see me. He clasped my other hand at the wrist and his fingers tightened like a vise, so hard that my watchband bit into the flesh. Was this man having a stroke right before my eyes? When he spoke, his voice was coarse and grating, not at all as he normally sounded. “Darcy, I’ve got the strongest feeling that you’re in danger. What are you getting yourself into?”
If somebody had dashed me with a bucket of ice water, I couldn’t have been more chilled. I tried to jerk my hands away but he held on. I licked my lips. “What . . . why do you say that? What are you talking about?”
He seemed to come back to the present with a start. He dropped my hand and stepped away. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Not a bit. But sometimes I just know things and I know that you might be looking at some mighty dangerous times ahead of you. Watch your step, Darcy.”
Burke Hopkins hurried to his truck, climbed into the driver’s seat, and roared off down the street. I stared after him, not moving. The goosebumps on my arms had nothing to do with the temperature. The old man’s words were ominous. Had he heard about Rusty Lang who had been killed under our window by the earthquake? Or did he have a sixth sense, as Mom said my Granny Grace had? It seemed that everywhere I went, somebody was warning me of possible harm. Surely I could do something about it and not just wait for the other shoe to drop. But what could I do? I certainly wasn’t asking for danger.
In my heart I knew this wasn’t perfectly true. I hadn’t been coerced into finding out what happened to Andrea Worth. I could have told Sophie I wouldn’t do it. Zack and Dr. McCauley were right. My curiosity often led me to places I probably should not go. And now there was Burke Hopkins’ warning. I had better do something fast. If I could find out what happened to Andrea Worth, surely there would be no more danger coming at me from any direction.