anything.”
“All right, you can pay me, but not that way.” She was silent and still behind me. “I’m serious, Peg. Put your clothes on.”
In a small voice she said, “I’d never tell Liz. No one would ever know.”
“I’d know. And so would you. I understand Hank’s rules, admire him for them actually, but they don’t apply here.”
Another silent moment passed. Then fabric rustled as she began dressing. When she’d had time to finish, I turned and faced her. She was lacing up the last bit of her dress front. I said, “Most of your livestock got out okay, right?”
“Yes. They’re a bit scattered, but except for one colt so badly burned we had to put him down this morning, they’re all safe.”
“Well, here’s how you can pay me, then. I need a new horse.”
ELEVEN
I should’ve seen it coming. Anyone else would’ve.
Hank’s eldest son, Bruce, who now looked suddenly much older than his fifteen years, delivered the beast to me at the tavern an hour after I spoke to his mom. Somewhere he’d acquired a beat-up old saddle, as mine had also burned up in the stable. The creature regarded me with the same animosity I felt toward her.
“She’s a little contrary,” Bruce said. “But since you’ve borrowed her before, you already know that.” He held out a folded piece of vellum. “Here’s her papers.”
“Thanks,” I said with all the considerable cynicism I could muster. I had no one to blame but myself for not being specific. “Tell me, didn’t you have any other horses? Maybe a three-legged one with a missing eye or something?”
He looked at me with the same vaguely perplexed expression my sarcasm always elicited from his late father. “No, this is the only one left. Mom traded the rest for a farm outside of town. She says we’re never coming back to Neceda again.”
“Well, tell her thank you. And that I’ll be in touch.”
He started to turn away, then stopped and faced me again. He stood to his full height. “My daddy didn’t burn down the stable.”
“I know.”
“And once I get Mom settled, I’ll be finding out who did.”
He said it with a real attempt to sound like a grown man. I said, “Before you do, come see me.”
“Why?”
I had my sword out and at his throat before he’d finished exhaling the word. My free hand grabbed the back of his hair and held him firm against the blade. Nothing he could do, even kicking me in the balls, could stop me from slitting his throat, and he knew it. His eyes were wide with a child’s terror. In the same reasonable tone I said, “Because whoever killed your dad can do this, too. And your mom doesn’t deserve to lose anyone else.”
He nodded quickly. I released him and he jumped back out of what he assumed was blade’s reach. I put my sword away and said, “As the oldest son, you’ve got a lot on you. Let that occupy you for right now.”
He nodded again.
I offered my hand. He tried his best to give me a solid, man-to-man handshake, and it did hurt a little because my knuckles were still sore. Then he walked away as rapidly as he could without appearing to flee.
He nearly ran smack into Angelina, heading wearily toward the tavern. She caught him by the shoulders, smiled ruefully and mussed his hair. This seemed to completely realign his teenage priorities: he continued slowly now, surreptitiously following her with his eyes until he turned the corner.
When she reached me Angelina said without looking back, “Hank’s boy was checking out my ass, wasn’t he?”
I nodded. “You’ll be the standard all his girlfriends have to live up to.”
She chuckled. “I’ve got tattoos older than him.” Then she looked at the horse. “New ride?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s her name?”
“I have no idea.” I opened the horse’s ownership papers. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“What?”
“Her name’s ‘Pansy.’ ”
Angelina smiled. “Pansy. Eddie and Pansy.” She made kissing noises.
“Stop it.”
“She doesn’t look as friendly as Lola.”
“Neither do you. Hey, would you do me a favor?” I handed her a wax-sealed note on which I’d detailed as much of my plans as I knew. It said I was going to find Gordon Marantz in Walpaca, the town commonly thought to be his home base, and hoped to be back in three days at the most. “Give this to Liz. I may be gone for a while.”
“Trying to find out what happened to Hank Pinster?”
“Where you from, Angel?” I shot back. It was my standard reply when she asked questions she knew I wouldn’t answer.
“Okay, okay. No questions, no lies. Of course I’ll give it to her.” She tucked it into her belt and looked up at me. “And you be careful. You still owe me rent and a pretty big bar tab.”
“I’m always careful,” I promised. Then I tossed Pansy’s reins over the hitching post.
“Hey, whoa, you’re not leaving that nag here,” Angelina said. “She’ll scare off the respectable horses.”
“Relax; I just have a couple of errands to run. She’ll be gone before lunch.”
“She better be, or my lunch special will be your ass.”
ANY connection with Gordon Marantz was cause for alarm, but the link between Marantz’s so-called “dragon people” and those weird folk with the red scarves nagged at me as well. Nothing happened in Neceda without a lot of people knowing about it, but that information was often unreliable, filtered through suspicion and self-interest. I needed a solid source for local gossip, and knew just the man.
Sharky Shavers stood on one of his flatboats moored on the Gusay. His shipping business operated out of a small building on Main Street, and the back door led straight down to the water. Like a lot of people who worked in town, he, his wife and four kids lived in the same building as his business. I went down the public walk to the docks and spotted him as he gazed over the side of the boat into the water. He did not look up, engrossed in whatever he observed.
Suddenly a head popped up at his feet. I thought at first it was his oldest son, Kenny, but the face was feminine, if not exactly attractive. Apparently his daughter, Minnow, was now old enough to join in the family business, and in Sharky’s world, everyone pitched in with the hard stuff.
“Looks like a branch snagged up there, dragging on the river bottom,” Minnow said as she hauled herself onto the boat. Sharky did not offer to help. She flopped on her belly like her namesake, then jumped to her feet. She was about fourteen, and the skimpy, waterlogged shift she wore would be scandalous on her before winter.
“Did you get it out?” Sharky asked.
“Not ‘til we discuss my deal.”
“You are not going off to be one of those weird-ass moon worshippers. That’s final.”
“What ‘going off’? It’s right outside town!” Minnow shot back. Their inflections, body language and obstinateness were identical.
“And they do bang-up work on banged-up heads,” I said by way of announcing myself.
“Hey, Eddie,” Sharky said. “Go put some clothes on,” he snapped at his daughter. “And send Terrell down to get that branch out.”
Minnow ran her hand coyly along the shift’s hem. “Then you have noticed I’m not a baby anymore.”
“I’ve noticed you’re about to get my foot up your ass for smarting off. Get!” He smacked the back of her head, not hard but firmly, and she scampered past me with a big grin. He sighed and climbed onto the dock. “Three
