Backfire
Page 52
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Eve couldn’t bear it, just couldn’t. She swallowed, turned away. She said, “Ramsey is going to hate this. Why did he have to die?”
There was no answer to that.
They all turned around at the sound of footsteps coming up the trail.
“That’ll be our forensic team,” Cheney said, and waved when he saw Joe Elder.
“What are you standing in our way for!” Joe yelled, still from a distance. “Move your carcasses, let us through.”
Joe was nearing retirement now. He was impatient with fools, impatient with everyone, as a matter of fact, and would generally snort at anyone in his vicinity.
They listened to him bark out orders to his team of two men and two women, snarl at the deputies who happened to get into his space, and shout for some coffee for him and his people.
There was silence when they at last lifted Mickey O’Rourke out of his grave. Eve crossed herself, a habit ingrained from her childhood, and said a prayer. She looked over at Harry, whose face seemed to be carved from stone. His hands, though, were clenched at his sides.
Since there wasn’t anything more for them to do, Sheriff Hibbert led them to the Ramirez house. It was a mile away off another dirt road, a small clapboard house set pressed against a knot of bay trees.
They heard the two kids’ high, excited voices before they got through the front door. After introductions and their assurances no one would browbeat the kids, Julio Ramirez led them in from the kitchen.
They were eleven years old. Emma’s age, Sherlock thought, and skinny as skateboards. They looked both scared and excited, just like their parents. Eleanor looked a great deal like her mother, small and fine-boned, quite unlike her father, lucky for her.
Rufino was a good-looking kid, the image of his deputy father. A future heartbreaker, Eve thought.
It took about ten minutes before Deputy Ramirez convinced the other parents to adjourn back to the kitchen and wait. Finally they got the kids settled at the ancient mahogany dining room table, each with a soft drink and within easy reach of a plate of chocolate-chip cookies provided by Eleanor’s mother.
In another few minutes, they gently got Eleanor and Rufino to the point in their story where their explorations took them near the clearing.
Keep it light, Sherlock thought. “You two were smart not to call out to him.”
Rufino said, “We almost did, then Ellie grabbed my arm and pointed. We both saw the shovel and the big mound of earth. Ellie nearly peed her pants, she was so scared.”
Ellie punched him in the arm. “Yeah? Well you did, too, Ruf.”
Sherlock grinned at both of them. “I can sure understand that. Can you tell us what the man was wearing?”
Eleanor said, “A raincoat, it was brown, and he was wearing a Giants ball cap. It was drizzling.”
Rufino said, “We were trying to find a double rainbow, but we didn’t. We never saw his face because he had his back to us. He was pounding down a big pile of earth, then he pulled branches over the—”
“The grave,” Eleanor said, and squeezed Rufino’s fingers. “It was really gross.”
Rufino said, “And we knew right away it was a grave and we knew this man wasn’t good, so we were real quiet.”
Eve thought, You’re both alive because he never realized you were there. There was no doubt in Eve’s mind the man would have killed both children and buried them with Mickey O’Rourke. Her ponytail swung forward as she leaned toward the kids. “Did you see any part of his face? Like his profile?”
“No,” Rufino said. “We were always behind him. His boots were real dirty. His feet were small, like my dad’s.”
Harry asked, “Was your impression that he was tall? Short? Fat?”
“He was kinda tall,” Ellie said without hesitation, “and he wasn’t fat, but not as skinny as Ruf’s dad.”
“Was he about your dad’s height, Rufino?” Eve asked.
Rufino wasn’t sure; the guy was pretty far away. He knew the deputy marshal was disappointed, but he didn’t want to make anything up, and she smiled at him when she realized it. He smiled back. Yes, indeed, a girl slayer, Eve thought again.
She said, “Did he seem old to you? Young?”
“Old,” both kids said at once.
“Older than your parents?”
Neither child was sure about that. To these kids anyone over twenty was old.
Cheney said, “Then what happened?”
Rufino drank the last of his soda and wiped his hand across his mouth. “After he put some branches over the grave, he leaned down and picked up the shovel.”
There was no answer to that.
They all turned around at the sound of footsteps coming up the trail.
“That’ll be our forensic team,” Cheney said, and waved when he saw Joe Elder.
“What are you standing in our way for!” Joe yelled, still from a distance. “Move your carcasses, let us through.”
Joe was nearing retirement now. He was impatient with fools, impatient with everyone, as a matter of fact, and would generally snort at anyone in his vicinity.
They listened to him bark out orders to his team of two men and two women, snarl at the deputies who happened to get into his space, and shout for some coffee for him and his people.
There was silence when they at last lifted Mickey O’Rourke out of his grave. Eve crossed herself, a habit ingrained from her childhood, and said a prayer. She looked over at Harry, whose face seemed to be carved from stone. His hands, though, were clenched at his sides.
Since there wasn’t anything more for them to do, Sheriff Hibbert led them to the Ramirez house. It was a mile away off another dirt road, a small clapboard house set pressed against a knot of bay trees.
They heard the two kids’ high, excited voices before they got through the front door. After introductions and their assurances no one would browbeat the kids, Julio Ramirez led them in from the kitchen.
They were eleven years old. Emma’s age, Sherlock thought, and skinny as skateboards. They looked both scared and excited, just like their parents. Eleanor looked a great deal like her mother, small and fine-boned, quite unlike her father, lucky for her.
Rufino was a good-looking kid, the image of his deputy father. A future heartbreaker, Eve thought.
It took about ten minutes before Deputy Ramirez convinced the other parents to adjourn back to the kitchen and wait. Finally they got the kids settled at the ancient mahogany dining room table, each with a soft drink and within easy reach of a plate of chocolate-chip cookies provided by Eleanor’s mother.
In another few minutes, they gently got Eleanor and Rufino to the point in their story where their explorations took them near the clearing.
Keep it light, Sherlock thought. “You two were smart not to call out to him.”
Rufino said, “We almost did, then Ellie grabbed my arm and pointed. We both saw the shovel and the big mound of earth. Ellie nearly peed her pants, she was so scared.”
Ellie punched him in the arm. “Yeah? Well you did, too, Ruf.”
Sherlock grinned at both of them. “I can sure understand that. Can you tell us what the man was wearing?”
Eleanor said, “A raincoat, it was brown, and he was wearing a Giants ball cap. It was drizzling.”
Rufino said, “We were trying to find a double rainbow, but we didn’t. We never saw his face because he had his back to us. He was pounding down a big pile of earth, then he pulled branches over the—”
“The grave,” Eleanor said, and squeezed Rufino’s fingers. “It was really gross.”
Rufino said, “And we knew right away it was a grave and we knew this man wasn’t good, so we were real quiet.”
Eve thought, You’re both alive because he never realized you were there. There was no doubt in Eve’s mind the man would have killed both children and buried them with Mickey O’Rourke. Her ponytail swung forward as she leaned toward the kids. “Did you see any part of his face? Like his profile?”
“No,” Rufino said. “We were always behind him. His boots were real dirty. His feet were small, like my dad’s.”
Harry asked, “Was your impression that he was tall? Short? Fat?”
“He was kinda tall,” Ellie said without hesitation, “and he wasn’t fat, but not as skinny as Ruf’s dad.”
“Was he about your dad’s height, Rufino?” Eve asked.
Rufino wasn’t sure; the guy was pretty far away. He knew the deputy marshal was disappointed, but he didn’t want to make anything up, and she smiled at him when she realized it. He smiled back. Yes, indeed, a girl slayer, Eve thought again.
She said, “Did he seem old to you? Young?”
“Old,” both kids said at once.
“Older than your parents?”
Neither child was sure about that. To these kids anyone over twenty was old.
Cheney said, “Then what happened?”
Rufino drank the last of his soda and wiped his hand across his mouth. “After he put some branches over the grave, he leaned down and picked up the shovel.”
