“DIDN’T EXPECT TO see you till tomorrow,” Harry said. “I was about to head on home. Why don’t you come with me? Sierra’s hard at work again trying to keep me fit. I think it’s chicken stew she’s left in the refrigerator.”
“She keeps a good ale on ice,” Nathan said.
“Better than that. You told me your beverage of choice was Guinness Extra Stout. I laid in a six-pack for the next time you came over to do your research. Come on and we can talk while we wait for supper to heat up.”
Nathan gratefully followed him along the path to the house. A porch light was on, though the sky still showed the last rays of the sun.
“So,” Harry said as they sat looking out at the lake, glasses of the Stout in hand, “what did Jackson have to tell you?”
Nathan gave him a summary of the day, including Nan’s report and his theory.
“You’ve had a busy time of it, looks like. You didn’t check into the burglary, I gather. No matter. They can handle it up there. Belongs to them more than me. Good work. We’re two of a kind, Nate,” Harry said, tilting his glass toward Nathan. “It looks like we’re not, but we have the same approach—nothing is on the surface for us. It all rumbles underneath like the vibration a train makes on the tracks long before you ever hear it coming. That’s why I like working with you. It’s all thin, this connection between French and Freeman and the Norton guy, but Nora is the clincher. Phone records could tell us who called her with the news about Jimmy. I’ll contact the feds with your information. They’ve got French in the National Stolen Art File already, according to his brother-in-law, that Pennsylvania sheriff. Anything that goes into the NSAF index usually has to be worth a lot of money. No way he can sell any of it. Legitimately, anyway. Problem is there are always dishonest buyers floating around.”
“I’m convinced Freeman and French know each other. Call it a gut feeling. By now Freeman has probably had any incriminating records destroyed,” Nathan said. “She’s smart. She’ll know the fact I went there could mean trouble. What about a search of the grounds, look anywhere that's been disturbed, maybe find Jimmy Norton’s body. Use corpse dogs.”
“Whoa there, we don’t have any evidence that would warrant that kind of thing, though a feds paper search could give us leeway, maybe a reason to check out the clinic. We’d need the sheriff up there involved, too. Have to see. Things don’t get done as fast up here as they do in the city where you used to work. Be nice to have the case solved, though, so you can spend your time on something else, though I admit we’re short of violent crimes right now, yours being the only one. What kind of bill did you rack up in Jackson, by the way?”
“Since I came back the same day, $17.23. Did I over extend my budget?”
Harry laughed. “I think we can handle it.”
“Can we be there for the search? If there is one?”
“Will the men in black let you be there, you mean? Don’t see why not. They’ll just give you the usual stuff about not interfering with the scene. You know how they love to share power. I should probably call them now. They’ll want your report, too. Hold off on the rest of your Guinness. Talking to the feds can interrupt that peaceful feeling. Afterwards, we can relax and have that stew.”
A half hour later Nathan put down his fork and sighed. “I’m going to miss Sierra. She is one hell of a good cook.”
“That she is, but I didn’t know you were going anywhere.”
“Just a manner of speaking. Can’t be here forever, can I?”
“Don’t see why not. Unless you’ve got an itch to be back in the city living the high life of dealing with incessant noise and lots more crime than Canyon City can offer you.”
“No craving for the old life. No. Just, you don’t need someone full time. Nora Gray is an anomaly.” Great choice of words, Nathan thought.
“True enough, we don’t have big things to figure out very often. Still, there’s always work. Andy’s a rookie. I can’t do the computer research the way you seem able to do it, and that’s half my job. Personally, I like to do as little as possible, so your being around makes that a lot easier to have happen.”
Nathan laughed. “I’m sold.” He lifted his glass to Harry. “Consider me your permanent resident investigative tinker of all trades.”
Harry lifted his own and smiled. “Works for me.”
“If they’re running the search tonight, I can’t get back up there in time,” Nathan said. “Have to miss that.”
“Pretty interesting that it was already in the works! Fraud does tend to get a lot of attention from the government. That agent fellow, Reynolds—he decided to move things up as soon as you said records could be destroyed. I didn’t expect they’d act so fast or even believe us right off. Good thing for us there’ve been a few complaints about how Henley Place is run. With seven people gone missing, and rich relatives from out-of-state wondering why, our case is a lot stronger. We’ll see what they get from inside. If we’re lucky, we’ll have a reason to get the local law enforcement involved and dig up the place. When I hear from the feds, you’ll hear from me. Should be soon enough. You’ll be at Sierra’s?”
“Not right away. I think if she’s not busy I’ll go talk with Sela first.”
Walking along the path from Harry’s house Nathan became aware of the light. It was soft and had a strange, almost unearthly cast to it, a muted purple that filtered around him, every object distinct and yet it was as if he were seeing them from inside the color itself. It wrapped him in its embrace. He stood still. There were no sounds in the woods or from the lake, and no wind. He had the feeling that if he could stay where he was, planted there like a tree in some ancient forest, he would know perfect happiness forever. The light held him within its softness and he lost awareness of his body. He was merged with everything else. It was, all of it, at once, the same.
The sudden loud chattering of birds brought him out of the reverie. He was surrounded by masses of them, all setting down in staging areas as they prepared to return to the roost to sleep. He could identify only a few, among them sparrows and woodpeckers and crows. He couldn’t see any of them, only hear their sounds. The early evening dusk had nearly faded. To the east he could see the dark line of night.
Fragments of images came to mind, a child clapping his hands and then a swamp, a storm approaching. Time had been suspended in that place. It had been part of the dream in the plaza. He remembered now.
It is the same for me when I enter the stones. Jinsaih’s voice. What was the same? Had she said that to him in the dream?
Then the images were gone and it was full night and the birds were silent again. He got to the street and left his car where it was, deciding he’d walk to Sela’s. It was only a half mile. He knew what it was he wanted her to paint for him.
YOU ARE READING
The Magic Hour
Mystery / Thriller"It was not exactly dark, but a kind of twilight or gloaming. There were neither windows nor candles, and he could not make out where the twilight came from, if not through the walls and roof." -Childe Rowland "T...
