Cherry Two

Part 30

Chapter 28

A battered Chevy Citation trundled south down the dirt concession, rutted from tractor and harvester wheels, to connect with Highway 101. Donna Sanford watched intently from a shaded laneway until the yellow car had vanished, then started her Ford Taurus and headed back north towards the farm.

Minutes later Joe Benson heard the car and assumed his wife had returned, having forgotten something the way she sometimes did. Ina took care of everything these days, from paying bills to organizing her own birthday party in town.

Joe didn't stir from his armchair. It took him several minutes to rise to a standing position in such fashion that the pain level could be managed and tolerated. Of late he'd been thinking about his old rabbit gun, a .22 Remington lever action rifle that he kept hidden away in back of the house. One day soon he'd clean it, oil it, load it and insert the muzzle into his mouth before his mobility had been reduced to bedridden status. He'd do it before they were evicted and on a day when Ina hadn't forgotten something and doubled back. He'd do it not just for himself.

A knock sounded on the side screen door, followed by a creak as it opened. "Mr. Benson, it's me again, Donna Sanford. Is it okay of I come in? Don't get up."

Benson looked at her face as it appeared in the parlor doorway. "Not going to. Did you see my wife leave by any chance?"

Her mouth hinted at a smile. "She thinks I'm a threat to your privacy. Do you?"

He waved a hand and his head. "She thinks everyone is a threat these days. Sit down. It hurts my neck looking up at people."

Sanford chose a chair in direct line with Benson and thanked him.

"Before I say one word about Joby I want to know what this is really about," Benson began, with his spectacled eyes well narrowed. "If you don't like it you can leave now."

"That's fair. We have a request from one of our associates in San Francisco. Someone in Monterey wants to speak with Jobyna, nothing more. If she doesn't agree then no one can make her. I already said this is not a legal matter. I'm only here to set it up."

Benson was way ahead. "Monterey!" He nodded in thought and took his time. "This goes back to the time we lived there. I used to have a damn good government job—well paid. Look at me now. Okay, Donna Sanford, give me a name and I'll ask Joby."

"Then she is here?"

"Did I say that?" he growled.

"No, but you implied it."

"Don't be smart. The name? I'll see what I can do."

The woman opened her leather bag and took out a PDA. After a button press or two she said, "The trace request originated with Robert Nameth of Carmel. Do you think she'll speak with him?"

Benson turned it over in his mind as he hunched in the chair. He could speculate well enough: this Donna Sanford had been advised of some vague connection to a decades-old cold case, but nothing more than sketchy background. It was typical loose-end stuff and someone with more money than sense wanted to indulge himself.

Eventually Benson came to a decision. This time the pain in his face was not from arthritis. "When we left Monterey my daughter was pregnant by a man who had fled the country. This man murdered Robert Nameth's daughter at a party. Her name was Calley. The news media were all over us at the girl's inquest because Joby made the mistake of bringing him to the Nameth house as her date. The swine used her in more ways than one. Joby wouldn't consider a secret abortion; she didn't believe in that kind of thing. None of us did. So we came here and she had a son she named Jesus of all things. She lives with him. Joby never married."