Bone Dry

“God, from what I’ve seen, even when you’re in town you’re not exactly bumping elbows with people on the sidewalk. I think I’ve got more people living on my block in Minneapolis than you guys do in the entire county.”

“Well, a small town like this, it’s not for everybody, that’s for sure,” Marlin said, thinking of Becky.

Inga gave him a curious glance, started to say something, then let it pass.

“Want another beer?” Marlin had noticed her bottle was empty.

“Sure.”

As Marlin went to the fridge, Inga said, “Listen, I came out here because I wanted to tell you about something. Tomorrow evening, I’m holding an assembly, sort of a town-hall meeting, at the high school gymnasium. I want to address this brush-clearing business, see if I can talk some sense into some of these people. I think if they heard the facts, some of them would think twice about what they’re doing.”

Marlin set two fresh beers down and stared at her for a few seconds. He said patiently, “I can tell you right now, you want to be careful how you phrase things. Like, ‘talk some sense into these people.’ You start making them feel stupid or ignorant, they won’t listen to a word you say.”

She gave him a surprised look. “Oh, I know that. I wouldn’t say that in the meeting….”

Marlin looked up at the clock. Almost time to get back on patrol.

Inga sighed. “Now you think I’m kind of a bitch, don’t you? That I think everyone around here is a hick.”

Marlin shrugged.

Inga said, “The truth is, I don’t think ‘these people’ are stupid or ignorant. Maybe a little uninformed, a little desperate, that’s all. They’re looking to solve a tough problem, and they’re going about it the best way they know how.”

Marlin gave her a small smile. “Okay, now you’re sounding reasonable.”

“Anyway, this assembly, it’s at seven o’clock, and I was wondering whether you’d join us.”

Marlin didn’t want to get in the middle of this.

“Please,” she said, reaching across to lightly touch her fingers to his forearm. “It would help out a lot, and I know people would listen to any comments you wanted to make.”

Marlin hesitated. “How do you know anyone’s even gonna be there? I mean, this is the first I’ve heard of it, and-”

“There’s going to be a notice in tomorrow’s paper, right on the front page. I talked to Susannah Branson, the reporter.”

Ah, there it was. That’s how Inga knew Marlin was single. Probably knew a lot more than that.

“Will you come, John? Help me out a little?”

He tried to avoid her eyes, but she tilted her head, used body language to draw his gaze to hers.

He wanted to say, Thanks but no thanks, I’ve got enough issues to deal with at the moment. But staring into those blue eyes, Marlin knew he didn’t stand a chance.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

While doing a little light cleaning Wednesday afternoon, Maria noticed that a lamp was missing-the one that normally sat on the table at the end of the hallway, where the Mamelis placed their mail. Maria thought perhaps Mrs. Mameli had moved it into the living room or one of the bedrooms, but she could not spot it anywhere. Very strange.

Then, while dusting in Mr. Mameli’s den, she realized that some of the art on the walls had been rearranged. Three oil paintings that had been displayed in various places throughout the room were now clustered on one wall. It seemed an odd grouping to Maria, giving the room a lopsided feel, but she was not an art expert.

She rolled the Hoover upright into the den from the hallway and switched it on. Despite the noise-maybe because of it-vacuuming always had a calming effect on Maria. The persistent droning of the motor, the rhythmic pushing-and-pulling motion: it was almost hypnotic. Maria often found her mind wandering when she vacuumed, usually back to her homeland or someplace equally pleasant.

Today she found herself thinking about that nice man from yesterday. Smedley. He had visited the Mameli household many times, sometimes staying for dinner. But yesterday was the first time he and Maria had spent any time alone.

She wondered about the name “Smedley,” whether it was as regal-sounding to American ears as it was to hers. The man had a kind heart, she was sure of that. After all, he had helped her bury the cat in the backyard. How many men would be willing to do that? Certainly not Mr. Mameli or his strange son.

Maria was not sure of Smedley’s relationship with the Mamelis. Maybe he was a friend of the family, or possibly a coworker of some sort. She knew that Mr. Mameli seemed to get uptight when Smedley came around, so he must be a friend of the senora’s.

Maria shook her head and chided herself for being so foolish. Thinking these thoughts about an American man would lead nowhere. What possible interest could he have in a housekeeper, especially a humble foreigner such as herself.

Maria slid the nose of the vacuum underneath Mr. Mameli’s couch and was startled by a loud clacking sound. Something was caught in the vacuum, perhaps a coin.

She leaned the Hoover backward and rested it on its neck, exposing the brushes that swept the floor.

She peered inside-and there, in the small mouth of the vacuum, was a short cylindrical tube made of brass. She reached in with her slender fingers and extracted it. Maria was fairly certain she had seen one of these objects before, and she thought it was part of the ammunition for a handgun. Something called a shell. But she was not certain, because she was not familiar with handguns at all. Whatever it was, it was quite pretty, in a way. She slipped it into the pocket of her apron.

Sal slipped into Maria’s cottage while she was in the house getting dinner ready.

Earlier, Vinnie had said he had taken care of Slaton’s corpse. Got rid of everything, including the guns and the two shells.

Vinnie had said it, plain as day. But it wasn’t until a few minutes ago that Sal realized what Vinnie had said. Two shells? Sal thought. There shoulda been three.

Cleaning up yesterday, they had been in a rush and they must have missed one. Just the kind of small thing that can really screw you over good. So he had gotten down on his hands and knees and given his den a thorough search.

Nothing.

Except fresh vacuum tracks.

So he had taken the bag out of the Hoover and sifted through it. Came up empty there, too.

That left Maria’s cottage. She had probably found the shell and thought it was some sort of magic trinket. Like the goddamn Indians who sold Manhattan for a handful of baubles and beads. Sal always remembered that phrase from his high-school textbook. Baubles and beads.

Sal was going to ask Vinnie to search Maria’s small house, but the kid had wandered off somewhere again. That meant Sal would have to do it himself, because this was the kind of thing that needed to be taken care of quickly.

So Sal eased Maria’s bedroom door open and stepped inside. In the dim light, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. Then, he pawed through the drawers of her bedside table. Nothing there but Spanish-language women’s magazines and various types of lotions and hand creams.

So he turned to her dresser. He sifted through her clothes, spending a little extra time in her lingerie drawer. Where the fuck did all this good stuff come from? he wondered. She had never worn any of this lacy stuff for him. He spied several jewelry boxes on top of her dresser and sorted through those. Nothing but cheap knickknacks.

He turned, looking for another likely place to search. Then he saw something that made his heart thump. It couldn’t be, but it was! Maria’s cat! It was peering out from under the bed, eyeing Sal wickedly. This simply wasn’t possible. Angela had flattened that fucker with her car.