The Memory Keeper Page 27

  Chapter 27

  Cody held her post while Rivers showered but no doctor appeared. She flipped idly through old magazines until she found one with crossword puzzles. People had started them, and there were varying degrees of completeness, but none had been finished. She didn’t know if the fact that visitors weren’t here long enough was a good or bad omen. She found a dull pencil between the pages, and started correcting mistakes made by strangers. It made her feel intelligent.

  Rivers came back, her long hair wet and glistening as she braided it. Her eyes were more alert, but also more intent, her eyebrows drawn down in a purpose Cody couldn’t interpret.

  “Feel more human?” Cody asked.

  “Somewhat. I called Jake from the nurse’s station and asked him to bring me clean clothes on his way here. I hadn’t realized what a funk I was sitting in. Thank you for waking me up.”

  “You’d have done the same for me,” Cody said, twisting the pencil between her fingers.

  Rivers sat down in her original chair. “Where is your mother?”

  “At the hotel waiting for me to check her out and take her home.”

  “And is that the plan?”

  “No,” Cody said, and the pencil broke. “I’m not ready to go back and my vacation isn’t over.”

  “But?”

  “But,” Cody agreed, sighing heavily. “I feel like I’m gaining a spine, but it’s sure hard.”

  “Growth always is,” Rivers said. “Which is why so many of us don’t. Even me, staying here in my chair.”

  “Instead of?”

  The muscles under the fine planes of her face tightened as Rivers looked down the hallway. “Instead of finishing this.”

  Cody followed her line of sight and saw Jake coming toward them with a brightly colored bundle under one arm. He wore his trademark beat up Carhartts coat, with a black tee shirt underneath, filthy jeans, and scuffed work boots. He looked like someone who had been tramping roads for days, and the dark stubble seemed like mute witness to those hours.

  “Clothes,” he said, dropping the bundle and then sitting down on the other side of Rivers. “Cody,” he said in acknowledgement.

  “Jake,” Cody said in return. “Looks like you need a shower as much as Rivers did.”

  A weary grin spread across his face. “I could use some help with that.”

  Instant heat seared Cody’s cheeks, and Jake laughed. But instead of cringing away, assuming the laugh was at her expense, Cody realized she was smiling back, accepting the action as friendly teasing. It was a moment she wanted to frame and hang in her memory.

  “These are interesting,” Rivers said, fingering through the clothes. “I haven’t worn this bra for years.”

  “You said clothes,” Jake said. “You didn’t specify what. I like lace on a woman.”

  “Right. Tell me what you’ve learned and then I’ll change. And I think I’m hungry,” Rivers said, rubbing her stomach.

  “About time,” Jake said. “I talked to Matt this morning. They found some shell casings but Matt thinks it will be days before any forensic information comes back. He figures the shells came from a 30.06 but he’s guessing at this point. And you know how many of those guns live with hunters in Wallace.”

  “No tracks or anything?” Rivers asked.

  “Not that he’s saying, but I know Matt and he sure as hell looks like he’s not telling me everything. I have some ideas of my own I’m going to follow up on.”

  “What are you trying to accomplish?” Cody asked. “Don’t the police have the skills to take care of this?”

  “Of course they do,” Jake said. “But so do I.”

  “I don’t care who solves it, Jake or the police,” Rivers said. “I’ve asked Jake to help in case he can get it done sooner. Either way, I want the person who shot Jess.”

  “For?” Cody asked.

  “I’ll decide once I know who it is." Rivers didn’t smile to lighten the words. Her eyes were black with an intent that, to Cody, looked suspiciously like revenge.

  “Do you think you’re doing what Jess would want you to?” Cody asked tentatively.

  Rivers patted Cody’s knee. “Definitely not. But then I’ve never done what people wanted me to.”

  A man in the traditional white overcoat of a doctor came into the waiting room and his sudden presence stopped their conversation, reminding them of why they were sitting on hard plastic chairs.

  “Rivers, you can see her now,” he said simply.

  Rivers jumped to her feet, clean clothes tumbling to the floor.

  “Wait,” the doctor said, holding up a hand. “She’s awake but still sedated. Try not to ask her questions. I don’t want her stressing her injury trying to talk.”

  “I understand,” Rivers said. “Can I go now?”

  “Go,” the doctor said, stepping out of the way as Rivers flew by. He smiled politely at Jake and Cody and then followed Rivers down the hall.

  “That’s good news, right?” Cody asked. “I mean, Jess being awake.”

  “I assume so,” Jake said as he stood up. “What’s your game plan?”

  “I’m heading back to Rachel’s grandmother’s in case Rachel needs me to stay with Florence while she deals with the museum fire.”

  “Heard about that.”

  “Though I wonder if I should hang around until Rivers is out. To make sure she eats, and to see how Jess is.”

  “Nah,” Jake said, waving a hand. “Now that she’s seen Jess she’ll function fine.”

  “Does that mean she’ll give up on her revenge quest?”

  “No chance in hell. Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

  “Jake, do you really think you can find the person who shot Jess?” Cody asked as they left the hospital.

  “Sure. Just can’t promise I can do it faster than the police, or Matt." Jake opened Cody’s car door for her. “And I’m not doing this just for Rivers, either. Jess is a friend. I take care of my friends.”

  “Even though Jess threatened to arrest you?" Cody’s voice was light, yin against the yang of Jake’s intentness.

  “Jess threatens to arrest me at least once a month. Usually I deserve it. Doesn’t mean she’s not someone I care about." Jake pulled the collar of his coat up against the chill air. “And I don’t like people I care about getting hurt. I can’t afford to lose them as there aren’t that many." He laughed, a deep husky sound, as if laughter rusted inside him and didn’t get oiled often enough.

  “Jess is lucky then." Cody shivered and pulled her jacket close.

  “Maybe, but I’d do the same for you because you might end up a friend. If you stick around long enough. Otherwise you’re on your own, sweetheart.”

  “Thanks. I think." Cody hesitated at her car, one hand on the handle. “Jake, did you and Kelly really get in a fight?”

  Jake leaned against the car. “It wasn’t a fight. Just a couple punches thrown over the logging operation the forest service wants to do around my place.”

  “What did he do when you hit him?”

  “Punched me back, what else?”

  Cody tried to picture Kelly and Jake in a fistfight and failed. She could only see Kelly and his engaging smile, and was glad that was her memory of him. “So what happens if the area is logged?”

  “I’m going to have a mess. It will cause all kinds of environmental problems with my place, things like erosion and landslides, changing my watershed. I’ll be an island in a sea of stumps and slash piles. And during the logging operation I’ll have helicopters flying around my house, logging trucks using my road, probably trespassers. It’s going to be a nightmare.”

  “Do you think you can stop it? I mean, the forest service is a huge entity.”

  “Realistically? Doubt it. But I have to try. The place has been part of my family since it was homesteaded before the towns and mines were here. You’re here looking for roots, so you should understand.”

  Cody tucked her hands up inside the sleeves of her coat, trying to find
some warmth. “I like to think I do but I’m not sure you can ever understand someone because no matter how much you try, you’re still looking at their story through your eyes." She felt the familiar blush creep over her cheeks. “Sounds corny, I know.”

  “Nope." Jake tilted his head to one side. “You found what you’re looking for? Something to do with your grandfather, right?”

  “Funny, but that was so important when I got here, and it still is, but it’s kind of got sidelined by everything else that’s happening. I have heard a few stories though. Including rumors about his real mother being a madam. That one seems to get Keith fired up.”

  “I just bet it does,” Jake said with a grin. “You checked out the Oasis yet?”

  The name sounded familiar and Cody thought about it for a moment, but finally shook her head. “I’m not sure what that is.”

  “The Mining Museum isn’t the only place in town, sweetheart. The Oasis is a museum dedicated to the fallen angels. You know, a kinder label for whores.”

  Cody winced at the word and Jake’s grin broadened. “Hey, a rose is a rose and all that.”

  “Sure,” Cody said. “I understand. I’m just not used to hearing it. Where’s the museum?" Cody thought about Rachel, imprisoned at home as a babysitter. Maybe she could afford a quick run into the place and see if they had any resources she could buy and take with her. It would give her something to read while taking over the watchdog role.

  Jake gave her directions and after she got in her car, he shut the door for her and touched his temple with a finger in his version of a salute. “Stay out of trouble. And keep letting that damn hair of yours grow.”

  Cody’s hair had been called a lot of things over the years, none complimentary. But as she drove to the Oasis she had to smile. No one had ever talked about it quite like Jake. Usually she was ruthless about keeping it short, and it had become a Sunday routine to trim it back before the days in public view began. But she hadn’t cut it here, and in only a week the curls were starting to unwind a little. Instead of stressing about it and seeing it as a symbol of all that was wrong with her, it had suddenly become something she was getting compliments on. She wasn’t sure she believed the compliments, but she had to admit it was nice.

  The Oasis was in a vintage home in pristine condition. An elderly man greeted her as she entered a large room full dark antique furniture, mannequins swathed in 19th century dresses trimmed with lace, and framed sepia photos of lounging women, tastefully posed and artfully covered, leaving something to the imagination of those who cared to look.

  “Can I help you with anything?” the elderly man asked.

  “Please. I’m hoping to find some resources on the madam of the Silver Haven.”

  “Ah, Ethel. She was quite a forward thinking woman for her time. Her bordello was in competition with the Oasis of course. Would you like to take a tour?" He leaned forward, hands clasped in front of him and with a slightly desperate look on his face.

  “I don’t have time today,” Cody said, hearing the apology in her voice as a counterpart to the disappointment that made the little man sag. “I have to get back home. But I was hoping you might have something I could purchase about Ethel.”

  “Oh, most certainly. And after the tragedy of the Mining Museum burning, I am very thankful we have a lot of similar material." He picked up a shoebox full of what looked like old postcards, and started flipping through them. “I must say I am quite nervous about our Oasis after the fire. I hear it was thought to be arson.”

  “That’s what I heard, too." Cody watched the arthritic fingers move through the yellowed cardboard and decided the Oasis didn’t get much business this time of year.

  “Well, I am seriously considering some sort of alarm system. I should have done it years ago but it’s never been a worry here before." He paused in his fingering and pulled out a postcard. “Ah, yes, I thought so. Take a look at this while I retrieve a book you might find interesting.”

  Cody took the postcard as the man left the room. It was in sepia tones like the pictures on the walls, and showed a home with a turret and large bay window made up of small panes of glass. An ornately worded sign hanging over the double doors said, ‘Silver Haven, a Heavenly Gentlemen’s Club’. And in front of the doors stood a woman, shielding her eyes from a bright sun that must have been behind the photographer. She wore a long skirt, with black boots peeking out underneath, and a snug blouse that showed a trim figure. Her face was in shadow under her hand, but even so the broad smile shown out through the years.

  What caught Cody’s breath, though, was the boy who stood next to her. Ethel was holding her other hand out to the boy, offering him a brown bag. He was dressed in a shabby coat and trousers that bagged on him, and he was looking up at Ethel, oblivious to the fact that he was being caught for future eyes.

  Unexpectedly, tears flooded Cody, and she covered her mouth as if she could contain the grief for something lost. His life, her time with him, all the things that had been and could have been. She had never seen pictures of her grandfather as a child, but all the same, here was physical proof that he had lived.

  “Are you alright?” the elderly man had come back into the room, holding a small leather bound book.

  “Yes,” Cody managed to say. “I just wasn’t expecting the photo of Ethel to include my grandfather.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “The boy in this picture is my grandfather, Charles Mogen.”

  “Well fancy that. I’d heard stories about a small boy she took under her wing but I never knew the name. I confess when I first saw this picture I assumed the child was her son. There were always rumors that she had had one, although no one ever came forward.”

  “Well,” Cody said, wiping her eyes. “My grandfather thought she was his real mother but I don’t know how it would be proven now.”

  “How interesting. One never knows what history will reveal. If you ever find out for sure, I would love to hear. In the meantime, I have this book that, while not about Ethel only, does mention her. It’s a journal written by a former madam of the Oasis, so as you read, please remember that Ethel was her competition. She wasn’t always, shall we say, kind to people. Either way, we sell copies of this as her words reflect a time gone by.”

  “I’ll take it, and the postcard, please.”

  “Oh, good job." The man beamed as he walked behind a counter and picked up a receipt book. “And you really must come back for a tour someday. We have some fascinating displays.”

  “I will." Cody picked up the book and slipped the postcard between the pages. “Thanks for your help.”

  Back in her car she put the book on the passenger seat and turned the key as an unfamiliar beeping startled her. It took her a moment to recognize it as the cell phone Jess had given her. She fumbled around until she found it on the floor of the car, and said hello, fully expecting to hear her mother’s voice. Instead there was silence.

  “Hello?” Cody said again.

  “You’ve just made a very big mistake." The voice was a whisper, soft and quiet and unidentifiable. And yet Cody was sure it was the same person who had called her at the motel.

  “The only mistake I’ve made,” Cody said, knees trembling. “Was answering this phone." She flipped it shut not wanting to hear what else would be murmured so intimately in her ear.

  Jess had wanted to know if the person called back, but Jess was in the hospital. So what could she do? She didn’t know anyone else in the police department, and if she called there, would they have a clue what she was talking about? She pulled out into the street and drove out of Wallace. It was time to get back to Florence’s. She’d see if Rachel knew the phone number of the forest ranger station. She could call Matt.

  It was only as she was nearing Burke that she wondered what mistake the caller was referring to. Her presence in the Oasis?

  If so, how did they know where she was?

  Only Jake knew where she’d been going.