Wesley Balcomb?' I breathed a silent thanks that I'd screwed up with her and not someone who might have noticed. I was going to have to watch it.
'Not much,' Josie said. 'Back when he first started that job, I asked him about it a couple of times, and he told me to shut up. So I stopped.'
'Why won't he talk about his job? Most guys do.'
'Maybe he just doesn't want to, OK? Maybe Mr. Balcomb told him not to.'
'Did Kirk tell you that?'
'I said maybe.' Her impatience was getting clearer.
'Did you ever get the feeling that Kirk and Balcomb were into something together?' I said.
'Like what?'
'Like dope, big-time?'
Her eyes widened in disbelief. Then she snorted with what seemed to be genuine amusement.
'You gotta be kidding.' But it wasn't so much a denial as, You think I'd tell you?
'Everybody knows he's into crank, Josie,' I said. 'And all this expensive stuff here-a guy's got to wonder. If I was a cop, I sure would.'
A trace of alarm softened her tough look.
'What the fuck's it to you?' she said.
'Let me worry about that. We made a deal.'
'I didn't make any deal to get set up, man.'
'I've got nothing to gain by setting you up, for Christ's sake. I'm trying to help myself.'
'Kirk never sells dope,' she said emphatically.
'Yeah? But he must buy it. Enough for two people, huh.'
She shrugged, her face hardening again. Read the mail, asshole.
'So where's all that money coming from?' I said.
'Hey, I don't have time for this bullshit,' she said, and stepped forward, reaching for the fifty.
I grabbed it first. 'All right, you can tell the sheriffs instead,' I said. 'If Kirk doesn't show up quick, you better believe they're going to have your little tits in the wringer.'
She caught my arm before I got to the door, with a pleading expression that I translated as God, I'm sorry, I'm so fucked up I can't think.
'I'm really scared,' she whispered. 'I think he's gone for good.'
I put one arm around her and let her sob a few times against my shoulder. I didn't doubt that she genuinely cared for Kirk, or that she was scared for all kinds of reasons, including her future. Going back home probably wasn't an option. Kirk's family wasn't going to help her out, and her friends were all like her.
But right this minute, I was pretty sure that she was mostly scared I was going to walk out the door with that fifty-dollar bill.
'Let me tell you again, Josie, I'm not out to take anybody down,' I said. 'Just to stay above water myself.'
She nodded and pulled away, wiping her eyes with her sleeves.
'Will you still leave me that money?' she sniffled.
'Yeah. Now let's go back to where Kirk's been getting his.'
The way she hesitated seemed a touch dramatic.
'Panning gold,' she said.
'What?' The thought of Kirk Pettyjohn panning gold was arguably the most preposterous thing I'd ever heard. There was nothing he'd hated more than physical work.
Her mouth took a sulky twist, like she knew how it sounded, but her eyes were stubborn.
'It's a major secret, OK?' she said. 'That's why I didn't want to tell you. If it gets out, people will move in on him.'
'I'll keep it quiet. Just give me a general idea of what he does.'
'He goes someplace for a couple of days and gets the gold, then sells it and comes home with money.'
Sure. Nothing to it. That was why there were so many small-time miners all over the state driving around in Rolls-Royces. There was also the fact that liquidating mineral ore tended to be a lot more complicated than walking in someplace with a sackful of it and walking back out with cash.
'Who's he sell it to?' I said.
'He never told me.'
'How often does he go?'
'Every couple of months. Except, you know, like January and February.'
'When did he start this?'
'I don't know exactly. After he moved in here.'
'Do you ever go with him?'
She shook her head, managing to toss her hair at the same time.
'I don't even know where it is, man.'
I might have been able to push her farther, but she was getting that fuck-you edge again. It was like one of those old inflatable Joe Palooka dolls that kids used to pound on-it would keep springing back up many more times than I could knock it down. And it added to the distaste that I felt anyway.
Then, abruptly, I glimpsed the subconscious reason that I'd judged her harshly. I didn't so much dislike her-I resented her, and I had since the first time I'd seen her with Kirk.
Reuben Pettyjohn was in his seventies now. Kirk had been the only surviving heir. When Reuben died, the purse strings that he kept such a tight hold on would finally come open. And if Kirk had married Josie, or if they'd had a child, a big piece of that fortune would have fallen to her.
But deep in my mind, absurd but unshakable, lay the conviction that it rightfully should have gone to Celia. Every time I'd ever looked at Josie and known that she was likely to get it instead, I'd felt a little stab in my guts. Seeing her in action tonight sure hadn't added any new respect.
I decided I'd process her information and come back if it seemed worth pushing farther.
'One more question,' I said. 'When was the last time Kirk made one of those runs?'
'Three, maybe four weeks.'
'OK,' I said, and held the fifty toward her. 'You keep quiet about this, too, huh?'
She pulled it from my hand with a roll of her eyes that said, finally.
I'd gotten about halfway down the stairs when I heard her call, 'Hey.'
I paused and looked back up. She was standing in the apartment doorway with her hands on her hips.
'My tits aren't that little,' she snapped. 'They look that way when I'm dressed, 'cause I have a very slender rib cage. My doctor says it's 'exquisite.''
She disappeared behind the door and slammed it, returning the stairwell to shadows.
33
When the south end of Last Chance Gulch had been turned into a mall, some of the grand old commercial buildings had been torn down and others had been revamped for purposes like legislative and law offices. But a few still stood pretty much untouched.
Reuben Pettyjohn owned one of those.
I was thinking more and more that Kirk had been handling drugs in some big-time way. At a stretch, I could see Balcomb involved financially. It was even conceivable that on Kirk's supposed gold-panning runs, he really picked up a pair of dope-loaded horses each time and brought them back to the ranch. But he hadn't left town for the past few weeks, unless Josie was lying, and I was sure she didn't know or care enough about this to go to the trouble. I couldn't believe, either, that horses had been getting slaughtered routinely on the ranch without somebody catching on.
I wanted to see Reuben even less than I'd wanted to see Josie or Doug. Although he and I were on cordial terms, there was plenty of strain between us because of Celia and there'd be more now. And of all the deceiving I'd
