Shirley Murphy - Cat Seeing Double

He stepped up to the car, wiping his hands on a clean handkerchief. "Scott Flannery. You two are up early." He winked at Charlie. "Nice to meet you both. Come on in." His neatly trimmed hair was, if possible, a brighter red even than Charlie's own. His voice was deep and soft as it had been last night on the phone when he returned Max's call-a comforting sort of man, Charlie thought. A reassuring kind of man to have helped raise Ryan and her sisters after their mother died.

"Those kids showed up this morning," Scotty said, ushering them into the house. "There's something about cooking pancakes and bacon with the windows open that draws wandering kids same as it draws bears. Come in, come in, I just made a fresh pot of coffee. The Jakeses moved the house trailer yesterday, to the far side of the pasture."

Seated at the breakfast table in the large, high-raftered family kitchen, Charlie breathed in the scent of new cedar lumber, and, through the wide, open windows, admired the dark mountains that rose in the distance above the golden hills.

"Kids' names are Andy and Mario," Scotty said. "I stuffed them with pancakes, and we talked about the dog. I said I missed seeing him, said maybe the dog was with their friend Curtis, that I hadn't seen him, either. They weren't quick to answer. Maybe they don't have a clue that anything's wrong, and maybe they do. They said sometimes Curtis doesn't show up for a while, that sometimes he goes off with his uncle, cutting timber."

"Did they mention Hurlie by name? What did you learn about him?"

"One of them slipped and mentioned his name, then tried to cover up. They referred to him as Curtis's uncle. Said he works odd jobs around the area, some up in the larger estates. The way this land lies, the wealthy areas are shoulder to shoulder with the rundown little farms, depending on the drainage and on the view.

"The kids claimed they didn't know where Curtis lived, that they just saw him at school, or 'around' as they put it." Scotty made a wry face, not buying that. "The boys could live in a little shacky area just east of here, Little Fish Creek. I'd look for Hurlie there too. You talk with the sheriff?"

Harper nodded. "He mentioned Little Fish Creek as a transient area, and several other places. Said Hurlie works odd jobs, including some of the larger estates. After some prodding, he suggested the Carter place, the Ambersons and the Landeaus."

"He left you wondering," Scotty said.

Max nodded. "A bit reluctant. Particularly regarding the Landeaus. As if he gave me those names to cover himself, in case I got information from other sources. You see a problem, there?"

"Possibly. I've heard hints, from our lumber people, but nothing specific. A sense of things unsaid, an unease." He laughed. "If I were a local, they'd talk more. You asked about Larn Williams. He and Ryan had dinner to discuss a possible remodel. I don't think she considered it a date. He had come around to look at her work, seemed to like it. Small-time realtor. Works on his own, I gather. She wasn't real taken with him."

"Have you heard anything …off, about him?"

"Nothing. I see Williams sometimes in town when I go for lumber. I've seen him a couple of times talking with Marianna Landeau. Once on the street, once in the door of his office. They seemed-easy with one another. And the Landeaus are into real estate, or at least her husband is. Apparently a big-time operator."

Charlie watched Scotty with interest. Everything he said was soft-spoken, but he wasn't shy, he seemed bursting with male energy. She liked this "second father" of Ryan's, already she felt comfortable with him. She could imagine growing up under the humorous eyes of a man like this, so different from her own reserved and austere father whom she had known only until she was nine. As Scotty refilled their coffee cups, she rose. "Could I take a quick look at the new wing?"

Scotty waved his arm toward the large living room that she could glimpse beyond the kitchen, and she moved on through, into a space that took her breath away.

The room was the size of a triple garage, but with a high-raftered ceiling that made it seem much larger. It was still empty of furniture. The north side was dominated by a river-rock fireplace that rose from the pine floor, soaring ten feet up to the cedar beams. To her right, the floor-to-ceiling windows looked at the mountains, but to her left the tall glass panes embraced a view of the yellowed hills against the sky, hills dotted with dark oaks and with a scatter of grazing cattle.

Stepping out onto the stone terrace, she could see a fence line far below, and as she watched, three deer wandered across the pasture among the black Angus steers and stopped to graze.

Turning back inside, she imagined the room furnished with Navajo rugs and soft leather couches and, in the shelves that lined the back wall, hundreds of books. Through an alcove into the dining room she could see a rough-hewn table set before another fireplace and, on the plain white wall, a collection of small framed landscapes. For a long moment she imagined herself and Max there having supper by the fire, watching their horses down in the pasture.

Oh, the stuff of dreams.

But she and Max had what they wanted, they had a nice home and plenty of room for the horses, and soon, probably under Ryan's skilled hand, they would add a studio where she could work. But, most wonderful of all, and amazing, was that she and Max had each other.

Slipping into the older part of the house she admired the way Ryan had converted the original living room into a handsome master bedroom and turned the old, smaller dining area into an ample dressing room. There were fireplaces everywhere. The original rough-stone fireplace now faced the bed beside window seats where one could look down on the hills. Charlie wondered how Ryan would approach their own building project. Maybe they could turn part of the existing house into studio space, and build a new great room. That possibility was even more exiting.

As she returned to the kitchen, Max was saying, "You're guessing the kids know about the bombing, know that Curtis is in jail?"

"Those kids are secretive about something," Scotty said. "But maybe only about their own situations. There's a lot of petty crime back in these hills, a lot of guys with small marijuana patches. Whatever the problem, the kids sure wouldn't open up about Hurlie. I hope you turn up something more at Little Fish Creek."

Harper nodded, and rose. Charlie touched his arm. "Can you take a minute? To walk through the house? It's quite wonderful."

"Guess I'd better," he said, grinning, "if we're going to hire this gal."

Charlie sat with Scotty, letting Max look on his own without her comments. She told Scotty about Max's ranch and the studio they planned to add.

"A studio," Scotty said, "where you will draw animals. Ryan says you're the best she's seen. You'll be wantin' to draw that big dog that hitched a ride with her, he's a fine, well-bred fellow. He should be hunting. Someone's a fool to have lost a dog like that, and not look for him." Scotty frowned. "Those boys know more about that dog too than they're saying. Maybe something they're ashamed of?" He gave her a puzzled look. "Can't figure out what it might be. The dog was sure easy with them all, not like they'd hurt him."

Charlie watched him a moment, wondering, then Max returned. Rising, Scotty held out his hand to them. "You have the kids' descriptions. Sorry I didn't learn more. I'll be headin' back for the coast mid-afternoon.

Ryan's ready to jack up the roof, in the morning, and that takes six men-five men and Ryan. She's got a couple of off-duty officers coming over to help out- for pay of course," Scotty said, watching Max.

Max nodded. "Nothing wrong with that. They earn little enough. I hope they do good work."