Fool's Puzzle by Earlene Fowler (reading eggs books .TXT) 📕

I would ever get over the expectation he would just appear one day from behind an oak tree and tell me it was all a big joke.

“Hey, Wade,” I said. I picked up a soft dinner roll and took a bite.

“That’ll be a quarter,” he said good-naturedly, and pushed down the brim of my hat. One of the most irritating things about being short is a great many people seem to feel since the top of your head is visible, it is public domain. My head has been ruffled, patted, and tweaked more than most cocker spaniels.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” I readjusted my cap and tossed the roll at him.

“Talk away.” He dodged it and moved the toothpick hanging from his mouth from one side to the other.

I glanced around at the men lolling around the smoking barbeque.

“Alone,” I said in a low voice.

“Sounds serious, Wade,” a thin man with an Adam’s apple as sharp as an arrowhead said as he flipped a rack of ribs with long silver tongs. The dripping juices sizzled when they hit the hot fire. “What have you been up to?”

“Nothin‘ good, that’s for sure,” Wade replied. He followed me to a grove of eucalyptus trees a short distance away. With the hope he was kidding, I looked at him grimly.

“Why the long face, blondie?” He pushed his gray cowboy hat back and leaned against the peeling trunk of a eucalyptus tree.

“Wade, I’m just going to be blunt, okay?”

“Why change now?” he asked, smiling.

“Sandra’s upset.”

The smile froze underneath his stiff brown mustache. “She’s always upset this time of the month. It’s just female stuff. She’ll be okay in a couple of days.” He rolled his toothpick again and gave a lazy smirk.

He couldn’t have made me madder if he’d held me down and pierced my ears with a ten-penny nail. So I decided to just spit it out.

“She thinks you’re cheating on her, and as far as I can see, she has pretty good reason to.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“A certain cocktail napkin with the phone number of a certain woman who is now dead. Ring any bells?”

A surprised look fractured his smile. “How’d she get ahold of that?”

“Doesn’t matter. What about it?”

He rubbed the back of his neck and frowned. “It’s not what you think.”

“And just what am I thinking?”

“Stay out of this. It’s between Sandra and me.”

“So talk to her about it.”

“I will. When I’m ready.”

“Not good enough. Besides, I’d like to know myself just how you were involved with Marla.”

Driving his fist into the eucalyptus trunk, he turned and pointed a work-cracked finger at me. “You need to mind your own business.”

“You need to talk to your wife,” I snapped back.

“I said when I’m ready.” He started to walk away, then turned back and scowled at me. “Just butt out, Benni. You’re not part of this family anymore. What happens between us isn’t any of your concern.”

It was a good thing I didn’t have a shotgun in my hand right then, because I would have loved to pepper the “W” on the back of his jeans with a load of birdshot. I was livid, but a part of me was embarrassed, too—his remark hit too close to home. He was right; they weren’t my family anymore. But after all those years, it was hard to disconnect.

“Looks like you might make enough today to buy a few more pounds of clay.”

I turned to face a genial-faced Ortiz. He was casually dressed in faded black jeans, a pale blue sweatshirt with “L.A. Marathon” printed on it, and his beat-up topsiders. The washing machine had obviously lost his socks again.

“I hate to think the murders helped attendance, but I think they did.” I peeled a piece of bark off the tree and avoided meeting his eyes. Okay, I thought, this is how we’re going to play it—light and easy—as if nothing happened.

“Probably has. Believe me, people are basically morbid. How are you doing?” He stretched his arm up and pulled off a leaf I would have had to jump to reach.

“Fine.” I looked up at him suspiciously. Why was he always turning up at the oddest moments? Was he tailing me? Did police chiefs do that sort of thing? And how much of my fight with Wade did he hear?

“It’s hard not having a place where you fit,” he said softly. He held the leaf he’d picked under his nose. “One of the things I hate the most up here is the smell of eucalyptus. Reminds me of the Vicks my mom used to rub on my chest when I had a cold. Did your mom ever do that?”

Well, he heard the last part anyway. I wondered if he’d heard the part about Marla.

“Do you make it a habit of eavesdropping on private conversations?” I asked.

“Whenever I can.”

It was such an honest answer, I didn’t know what to say.

“We know about your brother-in-law’s affair with Ms. Chenier,” he said, tossing the leaf on the ground. “He wasn’t the only one.”

“He wasn’t?” I looked at the ground and wondered if they knew about Ray, if there were others I didn’t know about.

“That’s all I’m going to say.” He kicked at the pile of crackly, aromatic leaves we stood in. “I assume that whole napkin business has to do with your brother-in-law’s affair. You really should give it to me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I peeled off another strip of bark.

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, I can’t fault you for loyalty. Technically, I could haul you in right now. You’re just as much a suspect as your brother-in-law.”

“Me? Are you crazy?”

“Does ‘You are dead meat, buddy. I’m holding Dack and Cassandra hostage. You know who this is’ sound familiar?”

My message on Eric’s answering machine. I felt my face turn red.

“Who’s Dack and Cassandra?” His tone was off-hand but the question wasn’t.

“It was just a joke,” I said, laughing uneasily. “You don’t really believe