"Sure," Liz said.
"I don't think it will ever come up, but if it does, would you tell my dad that I came over to see how you were as soon as I heard about what happened at the Crashdown?"
Liz blinked, waiting for an explanation. It didn't come. "Okay," she said, but she wondered what Isabel was hiding. Liz felt paranoid all of a sudden that all of them were keeping secrets from her.
Isabel checked her watch. "When did you get here?"
"I don't know. Maybe forty-five minutes ago."
Isabel gave a short nod. "If my dad happens to ask you when I got here, can you tell him that I got here five minutes after you did?"
"Sure," Liz replied. Straight-arrow Isabel? Wanting to lie to her parents? The world might be ending after all.
"Thanks," Isabel said. "I've got to check on something. I'll be back in just a few minutes."
"Okay." Liz stood there dumbfounded, feeling the cold soda can turning her hand numb. Isabel turned and walked down one of the hospital corridors like she knew where she was going.
Terrific, Liz thought with a scowl. Now I'm Messenger Girl. She located the coffee machine and pushed in another dollar. She slipped the coffee cup from behind the protective plastic door and turned around to find Jim Valenti standing behind her. She was so startled, she almost dropped the coffee.
"Something the matter?" Valenti asked. He was raw-boned and rangy, a product of the rawhide cowboy influence that lingered in New Mexico. He wore jeans and a white Western shirt, and a pair of hand-tooled cowboy boots. He carried a white hat in one hand that marked him as one of the good guys in an old TV Land Gunsmoke episode.
"No," Liz replied, keeping control of the drinks she was carrying.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," Valenti said.
Liz shot him a wry look.
"Sorry," Valenti apologized, with a small grin. "After I heard the story, I thought I'd drop by and see if it was true."
"I didn't see a ghost," Liz said.
Valenti nodded and twirled his hat on his finger. "I thought it was a bunch of hogwash, but I'm having trouble filling hours these days."
A short time back, Valenti had been let go from his duties as sheriff. He'd been holding back information that would have exposed Max, Isabel, and Michael.
"It's not all hogwash," Liz said. "There was"… she hesitated… "something. Michael saw it."
Valenti's eyes narrowed, and his forehead wrinkled in thought. "The way I heard it, you and Maria were standing beside Wilkins when he went down."
"We were," Liz agreed.
"But you didn't see anything?"
"No."
Valenti sighed. "And Maria?"
"Didn't see anything," Liz said.
"What did Michael say he saw?"
"A man." Liz tried to remember everything Michael had told her during the frantic and whispered conversation they'd managed to have before the ambulance arrived.
"Someone Michael knew?"
"No. Michael said this guy was tall and stooped, like he'd spent a lot of time hunched over so he wouldn't bump his head on things."
"What about his eyes?" Valenti asked.
The interest the ex-sheriff had in the matter was immediately apparent to Liz. "Michael said the ghost only had one eye. The other was covered by a patch."
Valenti scratched his beard-stubbled chin with a thumbnail, sounding like sandpaper. "A one-eyed ghost, eh?"
"Does that mean something to you?" Liz asked.
"Maybe," Valenti admitted. "Thirty years ago, my dad started looking for Leroy Wilkins's partner. A one-eyed man named Terrell Swanson."
A chill flashed through Liz. "Wilkins mentioned that name in the cafe. He said that was Swanson chasing him."
Valenti twirled his hat again, his preoccupation evident. "My dad never found Terrell Swanson. He believed that Wilkins killed Swanson in a fight over a uranium strike back in the sixties, then hid the body."
Liz stared into Valenti's blue eyes. "You think the ghost is real?" she asked.
"I think," Valenti said, "that I want to talk to Michael. He's still at the Crashdown?"
"Yeah," Liz said.
"How is Wilkins doing?"
"I don't
"I don't think it will ever come up, but if it does, would you tell my dad that I came over to see how you were as soon as I heard about what happened at the Crashdown?"
Liz blinked, waiting for an explanation. It didn't come. "Okay," she said, but she wondered what Isabel was hiding. Liz felt paranoid all of a sudden that all of them were keeping secrets from her.
Isabel checked her watch. "When did you get here?"
"I don't know. Maybe forty-five minutes ago."
Isabel gave a short nod. "If my dad happens to ask you when I got here, can you tell him that I got here five minutes after you did?"
"Sure," Liz replied. Straight-arrow Isabel? Wanting to lie to her parents? The world might be ending after all.
"Thanks," Isabel said. "I've got to check on something. I'll be back in just a few minutes."
"Okay." Liz stood there dumbfounded, feeling the cold soda can turning her hand numb. Isabel turned and walked down one of the hospital corridors like she knew where she was going.
Terrific, Liz thought with a scowl. Now I'm Messenger Girl. She located the coffee machine and pushed in another dollar. She slipped the coffee cup from behind the protective plastic door and turned around to find Jim Valenti standing behind her. She was so startled, she almost dropped the coffee.
"Something the matter?" Valenti asked. He was raw-boned and rangy, a product of the rawhide cowboy influence that lingered in New Mexico. He wore jeans and a white Western shirt, and a pair of hand-tooled cowboy boots. He carried a white hat in one hand that marked him as one of the good guys in an old TV Land Gunsmoke episode.
"No," Liz replied, keeping control of the drinks she was carrying.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," Valenti said.
Liz shot him a wry look.
"Sorry," Valenti apologized, with a small grin. "After I heard the story, I thought I'd drop by and see if it was true."
"I didn't see a ghost," Liz said.
Valenti nodded and twirled his hat on his finger. "I thought it was a bunch of hogwash, but I'm having trouble filling hours these days."
A short time back, Valenti had been let go from his duties as sheriff. He'd been holding back information that would have exposed Max, Isabel, and Michael.
"It's not all hogwash," Liz said. "There was"… she hesitated… "something. Michael saw it."
Valenti's eyes narrowed, and his forehead wrinkled in thought. "The way I heard it, you and Maria were standing beside Wilkins when he went down."
"We were," Liz agreed.
"But you didn't see anything?"
"No."
Valenti sighed. "And Maria?"
"Didn't see anything," Liz said.
"What did Michael say he saw?"
"A man." Liz tried to remember everything Michael had told her during the frantic and whispered conversation they'd managed to have before the ambulance arrived.
"Someone Michael knew?"
"No. Michael said this guy was tall and stooped, like he'd spent a lot of time hunched over so he wouldn't bump his head on things."
"What about his eyes?" Valenti asked.
The interest the ex-sheriff had in the matter was immediately apparent to Liz. "Michael said the ghost only had one eye. The other was covered by a patch."
Valenti scratched his beard-stubbled chin with a thumbnail, sounding like sandpaper. "A one-eyed ghost, eh?"
"Does that mean something to you?" Liz asked.
"Maybe," Valenti admitted. "Thirty years ago, my dad started looking for Leroy Wilkins's partner. A one-eyed man named Terrell Swanson."
A chill flashed through Liz. "Wilkins mentioned that name in the cafe. He said that was Swanson chasing him."
Valenti twirled his hat again, his preoccupation evident. "My dad never found Terrell Swanson. He believed that Wilkins killed Swanson in a fight over a uranium strike back in the sixties, then hid the body."
Liz stared into Valenti's blue eyes. "You think the ghost is real?" she asked.
"I think," Valenti said, "that I want to talk to Michael. He's still at the Crashdown?"
"Yeah," Liz said.
"How is Wilkins doing?"
"I don't
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