EPILOGUE
The sounds the piano made were soft and just a little melancholy, with a poetic lyricism that matched the surroundings. Henry was planted behind the bar; Bill McDermott was dancing with Lana Baroja; Saizarbitoria was dancing with his wife, Marie; and Cady was dancing with our newest Powder Junction deputy, Double Tough. Dog was curled up by the piano; he had already called it a night, the shaved portion of his middle and the bandages on his head and abdomen making him look like a stuffed animal.
I made the musical bridge and cut in with an improvisational riff that paused the dancers but held my attention for a while longer. My fingers felt stiff, but I was loosening up. My eye patch was gone, and there was no serious damage to the cornea; my vision was a little blurred on the right, but Vic was to my left. I kept sneaking glances at her, still a little startled by her civilian clothes. She was wearing a short black dress and black cowboy boots with embroidered red roses and blue leaves. With the turquoise and silver chandelier earrings, it was western, with just a touch of gypsy insouciance thrown in for good measure.
There was brief applause as I reached for my beer and nodded in acknowledgment toward the dance floor alongside the pool table. I shifted my weight and leaned against the wall, looking over at Henry and signaling the jukebox. I had only played a half dozen songs, but my fingers hurt, and I needed a little relief.
Vic took a sip of her dirty martini and shrugged as the wind continued to batter the outside of the bar. Another storm had come in from the Arctic Circle and had dropped about eight inches of snow. The Ferg had volunteered for duty, but so far there hadn’t been any phone calls; it was the kind of holiday we liked, where the weather was so bad that the populace stayed in, including Ruby and Isaac, who had elected to stay home to avoid the amateurs who might have decided to drive.
“How’s your leg?”
“Still not up to dancing.”
“Nobody asked.” She glanced over her shoulder at my daughter. “Cady flying out tomorrow?”
“If the weather’s decent.”
“Air Omar?”
I nodded and took the opportunity to watch her for a moment, like I always did when she wasn’t aware. “You got two new deputies for Christmas.” She stayed turned to the dance floor, watching Saizarbitoria, and tipped the delicate stem of her glass for another sip. “He’s a dark horse, but he’s sharp and he works hard.”
I took another sip of my beer. “The wife is nice.”
“Whatever.”
I smiled behind her back. “What about the hillbilly?”
Her head pivoted a little as she watched Double Tough, who was still dancing with Cady. “He’s durable.”
“That he is.”
She turned back around. “All right, so Joe got his name from the priest in Casper. Where did Leo get his?”
“Foster parents in Fremont County.”
She nodded. “Joe brought Leo over for the job after he laid the groundwork by keeping Charlie Nurburn alive?”
“Basically continuing Lucian’s efforts in hopes of getting a percentage for himself, but who knows? It looks like he was ready to kill half of Absaroka County to get what he thought he deserved.”
“What about Anna Walks Over Ice?”
“We found an unfinished letter at her house, in Crow.” I glanced toward Henry. “She outlined the whole situation; she had seen Joe add something to Mari Baroja’s Metamucil that night.” I took another sip of my beer. “I guess she just wasn’t sure enough, at the time, to accuse him, and then with Leo it was too late.”
She stared at the piano and tentatively reached out for a key. “Very understanding of you.”
I looked at my friend with the bandaged face; he was still mixing drinks behind the bar. “I didn’t have to kill him.”
In the dim glow of the stained glass of the billiard’s light and the Rainier beer advertisements, my chief deputy looked like some courtly renaissance woman, the kind that would poison your wine. “It’s Tuesday night. He’s probably got the board out.”
I waited for more, but there wasn’t any. She just sat there, with her finger resting beside the keys, her eyes far away. She had looked like this at the hospital the night she handed me Lucian’s love letters from Mari. She waited there for a moment, then got up and straightened her skirt in an action that seemed both symmetric and disquieting. “Where are you going?”
She didn’t turn when she said it but downed the martini in one gulp. “Dancing.”
As I watched her approach the stilled dancers to choose a victim, Lana came over and occupied the bench seat next to me. “I’m leaving.”
“I seem to be having that effect on people.”
She glanced back at the Yellowstone County coroner. “Bill says he’ll give me a ride back into town.”
“You should take advantage.” She placed a hand on mine and ducked her head to catch my eye. She kept looking at me with those familiar dark eyes, so I diverted her thoughts. “What are you going to do with all your money?”
She didn’t pause. “Hire someone to work at the bakery.” She smiled the jaunty smile that always seemed to put the world off kilter. “What would you do if you had a million dollars?”
“I don’t have a million dollars.”
She tipped my hat back as she rose and planted a gentle kiss on my bared forehead. “You never know.” I watched with great unease as she turned to Bill, who assisted her in putting on her coat, the same purple, quilted teepee as before. “I left you something on the bar. Merry Christmas.” The teepee swirled out with the coroner, and they were gone through the glass door with a flurry of flakes blowing in to take their place.
I drained the last of my beer and gingerly got up, keeping the weight off my left leg and trying to negotiate between the bench and the piano with the blurred vision of my right eye. I decided that the next time, I would make a concentrated effort to get wounded all on one side; it might make post-adventure life a little easier. I limped my way across the makeshift dance floor as Dog followed and threaded my way between Saizarbitoria and Marie and Double Tough and Vic, who ignored me as I passed.
Henry and Cady were congregated at the bar when I finally got there. We all studied the white box, tied with twine and resting on the worn surface of the counter. Cady laid her forearms along the bar and rested her chin on them, eye to eye with the box, her butt stuck out and her ankles crossed. She was wearing those fancy jeans with the sequins outlining the pockets. “Whatever happened to Charlie Nurburn?”
“Oh, like a bad penny, he’ll probably turn up.”
The lawyer reached down to pet Dog, careful to avoid the patched-up parts. “What do you think happened to him?”
I shrugged. “Who knows if the bones Leo found belonged to Charlie or not?”
“You don’t seem overly concerned.”
I glanced at her. “This case has had enough skeletons in the closet; I don’t think I need to go looking for any more.”
Cady’s smile was brief. “What about Mari Baroja?”
I waited a moment, and then said what I was trying to hold back. “She’s still dead.” They all looked at me. “Mari Baroja is dead, Anna Walks Over Ice is dead, Wes Rogers is dead, and Leo Gaskell is dead.. All for nothing.”
Henry wasn’t going to let it rest. “What does Lucian have to say in this?”
“He doesn’t have anything to say in this, the law is the law and whatever DCI finds, they find. Whatever Charlie Nurburn was ended with Mari Baroja. She stopped him from hurting her children, and in a way she stopped him from hurting her children’s children. Wherever she is, she can take a certain amount of satisfaction in that.” Except for the jukebox, it was quiet in the bar. “I’m sorry. I’m tired, and I should take Dog and go home.”
Cady protested. “Daddy, it’s not even midnight.”
“I’m sorry, Sweet Pea. I’m just worn out.”
She straightened the collar of my new Christmas corduroy shirt. “Who am I gonna kiss?”
