Moonscape by Julie Weston

Author:Julie Weston
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gale, Cengage Learning
Published: 2019-08-02T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 17

After much wheedling, Nellie had been able to get crutches from the small clinic in Hailey. She brought them back to the sheriff, using the automobile belonging to Henry, one of Goldie’s boarders. She had driven an auto all summer when she traveled back and forth to the Stanley Basin, after she spent time at the Basque sheepherder’s camp. It took a few minutes to get used to driving again, but then she felt at home. She even missed the upholstery smell of old cigarette smoke and that hint of moonshine—the liquid kind.

Charlie struggled with the wood supports, but, after a few adjustments in their height and several practice rounds of the boarding house and up and down part of the stairs, he said he was ready to try them out in town. He drove a county automobile and allowed Nell to drive it while he sat in the passenger seat. Charlie said little as they headed to Hailey, except a few gasps and grabs of the hand hold in the door. His left leg jammed the floor several times. Nell tried her best to be careful and not to cause any of the aforementioned reactions from Charlie. Having a passenger was not her preferred situation, and having the sheriff was definitely to be avoided in the future.

In Hailey, they parked near the butcher shop. There was no snow yet, which was a grace, and together the butcher and Nellie managed to get the sheriff into the ice room. The butcher asked several times when the bodies could be removed. He needed the space for venison and elk that hunters were bringing down from the back country. The coroner, a man named Jack Sharp, met them.

“The doc looked over them two,” Jack Sharp said. “I couldn’t even guess how that lady died. Although she had a big puncture wound in her stomach.” He glanced at Nell and then away. “Doc said she bled out from having a baby, but he needed to do an autopsy to make a final determination. Was there a baby with the body?” When both the sheriff and Nell said no, he continued. “The man’s end was pretty clear. See those dents on the back of his head? Probably spewed brain all over.” He shuffled his feet and, to Nell’s thinking, avoided looking at her. She was just as happy. She stayed as far back as she could.

The sheriff peered closely at both bodies. He picked up the man’s lapel and poked his finger through the rip he and Nell had seen in the photograph. At the woman’s side, he fingered her dress material, felt along her body, including her arms, turned her head one way and then another. The ice upon which she lay was tinged pink. Her skirt was still stiff with dried blood, and it had leached onto what appeared to Nell to be a pedestal. She no longer resembled a Madonna, however. The skin on her face had shrunk, and the bones of her head looked as if they would eventually rid themselves of the skin cover.

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