“Could I talk with Dawn?” Longarm asked.
“Feel free. If you can find her.”
“Did she run off with Nancy?” It occurred to Longarm that they hadn’t bothered to conduct anything like a real search in the vicinity of the Travis cabin. Shit, there could be another dead girl lying about somewhere. Under the snow or tucked away in the woodpile, wherever.
“No, Dawn quit me yesterday. Little bitch. Good riddance in one way. She wasn’t much account. But this is a bad time to be short-handed, what with the weather keeping everyone inside and horny.”
“When was the last time you saw Nancy?”
“That would’ve been, I don’t know … no, now wait a minute, yes, I do. It was Sunday. Sunday morning. We’re always closed until sundown on Sundays, and the girls have the whole day off. Well, until sundown, that is. Nancy went out last Sunday morning.”
“By herself?”
“As far as I know, yes.”
“Could she have been on her way to church?”
That drew a snort of laughter so sudden it caught Brantley by surprise, and she let loose a small spray of wine or whatever through her nose. “Jesus, Marshal. You should know better than that.”
“She wasn’t going to church, I take it.”
“Mister, a place like this one is popular as hell on Saturday nights. We cater to the best element. Or anybody else with cash to lay down. But come Sunday morning, the good people of Kittstown, hell, butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths. Not any of them. Half, no make that three quarters of the men in town are apt to be here on any given Saturday night, including the married ones and the upright ones and the extra virtuous ones. Saturday nights they’ll stick their tools into anything warm and damp that’ll hold still long enough. But let one of my girls walk into their church on a Sunday morning, and she’ll be lucky if they don’t stone her half to death.”
“You aren’t suggesting …?”
Brantley waved her hand in dismissal of the idea. “God, no. Whores are all stupid, but I can’t think of one stupid enough to head for church of a Sunday morning. No, mister, Nancy wouldn’t have done that. And no, I’m not suggesting the preacher and the elders got together to kill off a harlot.” She laughed again, this time without spraying herself. “If they were going to do that, believe me, mister, they’d start with me, not with a pretty little thing like Nancy. I offend them a hell of a lot more than Nancy ever could.”
“It was a thought.”
“Lousy one, but yes, I suppose it was a thought.”
“Let’s see, you last saw Nancy on Sunday. This is, what, Thursday? So she’s been dead four days. I don’t suppose you remember what the weather was last Sun day?”
“Look, I’m no damn almanac. And how would I know what the fucking weather was on Sunday. I never go outside hardly. I damn sure don’t have reason to go out on Sundays. Now, are you about done bothering me? I have work to do here, and you aren’t helping to get it done.”
“One more thing.”
“Make it quick.”
“I assume Nancy left some personal possessions behind. What do you intend to do with those?”
“Throw the shit out, whatever of it hasn’t been stolen by the other sweet young things I got here.”
“I’d like to have it,” Longarm said.
“You got a war … never mind. I don’t give a shit really. I’ll have Jason find it for you.”
“Look, there’s someplace else I need to go when I leave here, and I’d just as soon not have to lug a bunch of stuff along with me. Could you have your man drop Nancy’s things off at the Jennison Arms for me?”
“You ask a lot, mister.”
“I’m done asking now.”
She sniffed and finished off her drink. A few seconds later she put a fist against her mouth and belched then said, “All right. I’ll have him bring the stuff to you the next time I think about it.”
“I could come back tomorrow morning and-“
“All right, goddammit. This afternoon. I’ll have Jason bring Nancy’s crap to you this afternoon.”
“Thank you, ma’am. You’ve been a big help.”
“Well, for God’s sake don’t let anybody else hear you say that. My reputation is bad enough without that blemish being piled on top.”
Longarm chuckled and stood. Norma Brantley was a real piece of work. “Thanks. And … with any kind of luck we won’t meet again.”
“There is that to hope for, isn’t there. Go on now. You can find your own way out.”
And so he could.
Chapter 13
It hadn’t gotten any warmer since morning. Nor any less windy either. Longarm ducked his head to avoid the impact of the blowing snow and trudged back along the gray, barren whips of winter-naked crackwillow until he came to the Travis cabin.
