Дэвид Балдаччи - One Good Deed

“No, I said the law said I stole it. The daughter was the one who took the car. And since it belonged to her father, I don’t see how that could be stealing. We were going to drop it off in the next town over and take the train. Things didn’t work out that way.”

“What happened then?”

“They caught up to us before we could get on the train, and the mayor got his daughter to say things about me and what happened that weren’t true. And that got me sent to Carderock for a spell.”

Bart rubbed his cheek while Archer glanced at Jackie to see her staring at him with hurt eyes.

Bart said, “Well, that ain’t why we’re here. The fact is, Mr. Hank Pittleman was killed and we’re here to tell Miss Tuttle.”

“Why her?” asked Archer.

“Because they were friends.” Something glinted in Bart’s eyes. “Hey now, where you staying?”

Archer had wondered when the lawman would get around to that.

Jackie answered for him. “He’s staying at the Derby, same as Hank.”

Bart wheeled around on Archer. “Oh, you are, are you?”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Bart,” said Jackie, who had finally settled down and dried her eyes. “He didn’t kill Hank any more than I did. Hank hired the man. With him gone, so is Archer’s job. How does that make sense?”

Bart’s gleeful look faded. “Is that a fact?”

“That’s a fact,” confirmed Archer.

“Have you told Marjorie yet?” asked Jackie sharply.

When Archer looked at her, he could tell the woman’s mind was going a hundred miles an hour.

“We just found the body,” said Bart. “Maid walked in on him and almost lost her damn breakfast in the process. You know it’s a hike out to their place, but we’ll get there. Wanted to come by and tell you since you’re closer.”

Jackie nodded and managed a brief smile. “Well, I appreciate that, I truly do.”

Archer was having a hard time following all this but waited until the lawmen, who each gave him a stern, suspicious look, had departed.

Jackie sat down and looked vacantly across the room, while Archer went to the window to confirm the law was actually leaving him alone. For now.

He sat down opposite the woman and said, “Can you explain something to me?”

“What’s that, Archer?” she said wearily.

“The law knows about you and Pittleman?”

“Yes. So?”

“Just strikes me as a little odd. And the fact that they’d come here first and tell you before even letting his widow know.”

“Well, like Bart said, I’m a lot closer. It’s nearly an hour out to Marjorie’s.”

“Is this not a God-fearing place?”

“Come again?”

“I mean that people just accept the fact that you and Pittleman have this... arrangement and they’re all good with it? Having met his missus, I know that she knows about you, which strikes me as even odder.”

“Oh, that ,” said Jackie. “Well, I saved their marriage, in a way. I guess folks appreciate that. Maybe even Marjorie.”

Archer could tell by the way that she said this last part, the woman didn’t fully believe it.

“In what way would that be?” he said, looking at her funny.

“Hank would have left her for sure if it weren’t for me. Everybody knows that.”

“I’m not following any of this. So just slow it down and let me have it. Take your time. I want to understand this.”

“I don’t have time to take my time, Archer,” she said curtly. “But I’ll tell you this. Hank doesn’t — didn’t — love Marjorie anymore and would have thrown her over in a minute. I mean, divorced her and married someone else. And there were several eligible ladies waiting in the wings, I can tell you that. But then I came along, and I fed Hank’s need. Not just in the bedroom — at his age he wasn’t really interested very much — but in having a pretty young thing on his arm to show off to folks in town. You saw that in the bar, certainly?” Archer nodded. “Well, it made him feel, well, more virile. You know that word?”

“I’ve heard it, yeah.”

“Hank spends time with me in town and then he goes home to Marjorie for a couple of days and comes back to town on Mondays. Marjorie knew I had no interest in marrying the man.”

“Wait a minute, how did Marjorie find out about all this between you and Pittleman? I suppose he told her?”

“No, I did.”

“You!”

“I insisted on it. I’m not going behind another woman’s back like that.”

When Archer still looked confused, she came over to sit next to him. “I know it’s complicated, but it was sort of like a negotiation. I wanted money and a place of my own. Hank wanted a young woman to walk around with and show off. And Marjorie wanted to stay in her big house. In the end, everyone got what they wanted.”

“So, are you happy?” asked Archer.

“Well, I was until I found out Hank was dead.”

“And now?”

“Now, who knows? I’m sort of left out in the cold.”

“Your daddy—” he began.

“—does not figure into the equation of my happiness,” she said firmly. Then her expression changed. “I should go out and see Marjorie later today. We’ll need to let Bart tell her first, of course. You want to come with me?”

Archer looked at her for the longest time until he nodded yes.

“What in the world do you think happened to Hank?” she said. “Who could have killed him? How did he die? Jeb just said it was bloody.”

“Beats me,” replied Archer.

“Where’d you get this thing?” asked Archer, as, by prearrangement, he was standing in front of the Derby Hotel later that day. His query had been prompted by Jackie’s pulling up in a spanking brand-new four-door Nash Ambassador painted a two-tone blue. It looked like a big-butted bullet about to be launched down the road.

“Hank gave it to me,” she said through the open driver’s window.

“He gave you a house and a car?”

“Well, yes. He wanted me to be able to get around in style after all.”

“I didn’t see the Nash parked at your house.”

“That’s because I don’t keep it at my house. I keep it in a garage not too far from my place. Do you know what the sun beating down here can do to a car’s paint? And don’t get me started on the dust. Get in.”

Archer slid into the passenger seat and no more than a second passed between his hitting the fabric and Jackie hitting the gas. The Nash sprung forward so fast, it snapped Archer’s head back against the seat.

She glanced over at him in her reflector sunglasses, as he looked at her in annoyance. “I like to move fast, Archer. You’ll just have to get used to it.”

Archer rolled his window down and kept ahold of his hat, or he would have lost it to the back seat while they were still in downtown Poca City. He ran his gaze over the woman. She was dressed in a below-the-knee black dress, with a dark pyramid coat on over it, a felt hat with a bow on the side, sheer black stockings, and demure shoes with low, clunky heels. He supposed it was the mourning wear of chattel. It was a good look for her, not that anything wouldn’t be.

They drove for nearly an hour by the sun, and this was confirmed by his watch. When the house came into view, Archer whistled. “Damn, place looks bigger than when I was here the first time. Maybe it keeps growing all on its own like a tree.”

Jackie honked the horn as they pulled up to the gate.

About thirty seconds later, Manuel emerged and opened the gates for them.

“Thank you, Manuel,” said Jackie as she drove on through, while Archer studied the house.

“How big is this thing, really?” he asked.

“I have no idea, but it’s big enough, don’t you think?”