Jake kept his face neutral. “Did they pay off the last one?”
“Not exactly.”
“How much do they owe on the last one.”
She cleared her throat. “They haven’t paid it back yet.”
“I see. And now they need more.”
She nodded.
“How much?’
“The bank is going to foreclose on their place if they don’t meet the balloon payment this month.”
“Which they knew was coming, which they should have been saving for but haven’t.”
Opal let out a long, low sigh that was a commentary on relatives in general. “That’s right. They’ve never been able to make anything of that hard scrabble place they have. It gets worse. Howie lost his job.”
“Again.”
“Again.”
“I guess AA is not an option.”
“He’s never stuck. Alcohol has him permanently poisoned.”
Jake took off his baseball cap and tossed it on the desk. “What are you going to do for them?”
“I was trying to find the money in our accounts to pay off their balloon.”
“It’s not there. We’re pretty close to only breaking even ourselves.”
“I see that.”
“Opal, you can’t keep bailing them out.”
“I know. We’ve had this discussion before.” She looked like she had been stomped by a couple of bulls. “I can’t let them be put out on the street, Jake. They’re my relations.”
Jake was trying hard to keep a lid on his feelings and a civil tongue in his head. He replied very evenly, “Maybe they should be out on the street. They’ve been sucking the life out of this ranch for years. Maybe then they’d have to grow up and be accountable.”
“I know you can’t understand this, not having any relations asking you for money.”
“You have a soft heart, Opal. It doesn’t have anything to do with understanding. I’d tell them to get out and make it on their own. How else will they learn?”
Opal sighed. “I promised Tillie’s mom before she died that I’d look after them. We both knew she never had much of a chance to make a decent living with all the bad choices she’s made.”
Jake had heard this one before. “You promised all Henry’s brothers and sisters you’d look out for their kids.”
Opal didn’t say anything. The psychology of the whole thing was beyond him. He never understood her attachment to Henry, who was long dead, and his endless family. He listened to the quiet of the late afternoon. Queenie was cleaning in the other end of the house to the faint whir of the vacuum cleaner. Off in the distance a cow was calling for her calf which reminded him he had a thousand other things to do. He needed a beer but didn’t want to leave the room. They needed to have this discussion. They needed to work out the future of this ranch.
Opal looked at him. “I don’t know how to say this Jake, but here goes. I might not be able to sell the ranch to you. I may have to divide it up among the relations so they have a place to live and a way to make a living.”
Jake studied her with a frankness that made her look away, unable to sustain his gaze.
He said, “I know how hard that decision is for you to make.”
She nodded. “It will break my heart. I got to have more time to think. I thought when I had Albert’s estate settled and all my side of the family off my back, that I’d get some breathing room.” She shook her head. “Somehow I thought old age would be easier than this. I didn’t sign up for this part.”
“You haven’t had any breaks lately.”
“There’s more. I’m thinking to give Howie a job here, let Queenie go and hire Tillie to help me around the house. I don’t know how the chemotherapy treatments are going to go. My energy hasn’t been good. Tillie might be a big help.”
“What about Fiona? What about the big speech you gave to Tillie about not needing her help around here?”
“I didn’t know how bad things were for them.”
It was time for him to get that beer. He was going to say things that later he’d wish he’d never said, and Opal didn’t need his coming down on her, not with all she had on her mind.
“I got things to do.” He rose to leave.
“Jake,” Opal said, “do you remember what you were like when you came here to work?”
He stopped and looked at her. “Yes, I remember,” he said at a near whisper.
“No one had much hope for you.”
“No, I was a real loser.”
“And look how you turned out.”
“If it weren’t for you, I’d be a Howie today.”
“I know you think I’m crazy. I don’t know if there is any Howie and Tillie to save, but I have to try. I’ve never believed that we were all created equal. Some of us got the short end of the stick. As St. Paul said, we have to bear one another’s burdens.”
“That he did. Now I better get to the thousands of things I have to do.”
“Jake.”
He waited.
“Thank you for all you’ve done for me. I probably don’t say that often enough. Let’s see how things go. Don’t give up hope.”
He nodded. “There is one other option. If you sell the ranch to me, you’ll have lots of cash, and I’ll have all the bills to worry about, not you. Think about it.”
Fiona and Olympia ended up at Lauren Brooks’ shop to consult with her on places to live and who was the best realtor in town.
“I think the best realtor is an independent broker I know, who’s lived here forever and knows the valley inside and out.”
“Thanks,” said Fiona. “Does she have an office?”
“She works out of her home. I’d call first because she’s probably out showing places. What are you gals up to? People are still talking about the last time you were in town.”
Was it possible that Olympia was actually blushing, thought Fiona. She could feel her own face turning beet red. “We aren’t that infamous, are we?” she said.
Lauren laughed. “This is a small town, you have to remember.”
“I keep forgetting,” said Fiona. “We thought we’d take in a movie. Any suggestions?”
“There’s only one movie house in town so that should be easy. Better take a warm jacket because the operator keeps it about ten below in there at all times, doesn’t matter the season.” She looked down at their feet. “I wouldn’t wear sandals. There are reports of little critters that scurry across people’s feet.”
“Yuck,” said Olympia. “Critters? Only one theater in town? We better go when we’re properly attired in parkas and snow boots.”
Lauren laughed. “I don’t know what’s more exciting, the movies they have or what happens in the theater.”
Fiona exchanged glances with Olympia. “Maybe another time. We’ll try to keep a low profile while we are here. No drinking with gold miners, you hear, Olympia?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. I’ve turned over a new leaf.”
Back in the Red Bomb Fiona said, “I want to go by the Sheriff’s office and see if Hoover is there.”
The office and county jail were only a mile down the road and up on the promontory that gave Rocky Point its name.
Fiona pulled into a slanted parking place in front of a two-story brick building painted a distressing shade of pink. “That is not a very manly color for a jail,” she said.
“Maybe it’s a jail for women only,” said Olympia. “I’m excited to see the new love of my life.”
They walked into a tiny waiting area. A woman sat behind a glass partition. “May I help you, gals?”
“We’re looking for Sheriff Hoover,” said Fiona.
“I don’t think he’s here. Let me check. He was called out a little bit ago.”
The woman left her station and walked into a back room. A deputy, the one who was at the hot springs the day of the accident, came out to meet them.
“The Sheriff isn’t here at the moment,” said Deputy Nathan Brown. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“I wanted to show Sheriff Hoover a photo of an old gun I found at the site where the bunkhouse burned on Opal Crawford’s place. I found it and didn’t move it and when we went back to see it when Sheriff Hoover came, it wasn’t there. But I found it on the couch of the new bunkhouse. Let me show you.”
The deputy had remained silent while Fiona ran through her story. He looked at the photo she showed him. “That could be any gun, anywhere. I’m not sure what you think the significance of the photo is.”
“It proves that there was a gun.”
He shrugged. “It could be anyone’s gun. How do you know it is the same gun as you found at the burn site?”
Fiona was feeling more than frustrated. “I don’t but I thought it was worth mentioning. That’s all. Would you tell Sheriff Hoover that we were here and why? I’d appreciate it.” She gave him a bright smile that she didn’t feel. She had wanted him to be fantastically interested in her brilliant piece of detective work and tell her what a great clue it was. What she got was a glancing blow to her ego.
Back in the Red Bomb, Olympia, who had remained admirably silent through the whole exchange with the deputy, said, “Fiona, what were you doing in the buckaroos’ house?”
“Looking for you.”
“For me? You mean, you thought I had shacked up with the guys?”
“Yes. That isn’t unusual for you.”
Olympia was silent for a few moments then said, “I have turned over a new leaf, truly Fiona. My past behavior shocks even me.”
Fiona shrugged. “I went down there thinking you had spent the night with Sweet. The door was open. I walked in and called for you. No one was there. I saw the gun that had disappeared from the burn site on the couch. I’m sure it is the same one.”
“Let me see the photo.”
Fiona brought it up and handed the phone to Olympia.
She studied the photo for a moment and then said, “You can’t see the gun very well, but it does look old and rusty. It might not be the same gun. You might be chasing down a rat hole with this one.”
“Maybe, but if it is the same one, how did it end up in plain sight on their couch? And what was it doing up on my knoll?”
“Hard to say.”
“Maybe it was one of the ghosts that live on my knoll. Maybe they are playing havoc with the evidence.”
“Ghosts? The plot thickens. Tell me more. I love a good ghost story.”
Fiona told her friend about ghosts rumored to inhabit her knoll and how they had been exorcised.
“Then, of course, they’ve come back,” said Olympia.
“Maybe,” said Fiona. “Or their human incarnations.”
Olympia rubbed her hands together. “This is getting really exciting. Where to now? I’d like to drive around the neighborhood and see what houses are for sale. I’d kind of like a place outside of town, preferably not haunted. But I have a ghost tolerance policy. Nice reclusive place for the solitary art of writing. Just me and one handsome male ghost. I’ll require internet service. How far to the nearest airport?”
“Boise. Three and a half hours by car.”
“I may need my own helicopter pad in that case.”