One Good Deed(61)

“Glad to hear it.”

“So, what’s the status of your business? You said you were working on it. Are you going to disappoint me, Archer? I will tell you right now I do not like to be disappointed.”

Archer scanned the Cadillac’s interior looking for the shotgun, but didn’t see it.

“Well, I hope not to disappoint you or me, sir.”

“So, then?”

“With Pittleman dead, it’s gotten a little complicated, so to speak.”

“Or perhaps it’s gotten easier.”

“I don’t know about that. I do know that you torched the Caddy.”

Tuttle didn’t seem fazed by this. “An unfortunate accident. They happen a lot on farms.”

“Is that right?” Archer wanted to ask him about Isabel’s accident, but decided now was not the right time.

“I want my daughter back home.”

“I’m trying, but it might be because her mother died there. She left about the same time. I wonder why.”

Tuttle’s face darkened. “Do you know how my wife died?”

Now that the man had brought up the subject himself, Archer said, “Just that it was an accident, but nobody told me the details.”

Tuttle glanced out the window. “Yes, they say it was an accident.”

“You saying it wasn’t?”

Tuttle stared back at him. “I…I don’t know, Archer. All I want is my daughter home. And if you can persuade her to do that, you will have earned your money.”

“Okay, but Jackie loved her mother and her mother loved her right back.”

“And who told you that?” asked Tuttle sharply.

“Your secretary, that Desiree woman.”

“Ah, yes. Right. I suppose she would see it that way.”

“It’s not true?”

“Mr. Archer, there is no more complex relationship in the world than that of a mother and her daughter.”

“I think you might be right about that. But are you saying they didn’t get along?”

“Jackie is supremely headstrong, smart, opinionated, unlike any other woman I know—other than her mother, that is, for my daughter took after Isabel in a fierce way. And women from South America, Archer, are hot-blooded, full of fire and fight. It was what attracted me to her in the first place. She was the only woman of my acquaintance who could hold her own with me. Actually, more than hold her own.”

“But if she didn’t die in an accident, what happened then?”

Tuttle looked out the window again. “Sometimes it’s better not knowing the truth. Do you believe that, Archer?”

“Well, I think the truth is important. But I guess the truth can hurt too.”

“You’ve laid out the dilemma precisely. The truth not only can hurt, but also can have the capacity to destroy. Do you understand that?”

“What sort of truth are you talking about?”

“My wife was a beautiful creature, Archer. Beautiful beyond comparison. I could hardly believe it when she agreed to become my wife, for I was a young man just making his way. But tropical beauty such as she possessed sometimes affects the mind in ways that can be dangerous.”

“You mean…?” prompted Archer.

“I mean that sometimes I became frightened of my own wife. You see me with my shotgun, and you think I’m a little touched in the head and prone to violence. But with me it’s just bluster, Archer. With Isabel, it was something more.” He paused. “And beauty was not the only thing that Jackie inherited from her mother.”

“Hold on, now, Jackie is a good person.”

“Keep in mind that you’ve known her a short time. I’ve known Jackie her entire life.”

It was not lost on Archer that Jackie had pretty much said the same thing to him, only in the context of Archer’s knowing her father for such a short time. “What exactly are you trying to say, Mr. Tuttle? I’d like the straight dope without all the gobbledygook.”

Tuttle poked him in the chest. “Bring my daughter back to me, Archer. And collect your money, which I’ve just upped to two hundred dollars.”

Archer looked stunned. “Why the increase?”

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

He motioned to the door, and Archer slowly climbed out. The chauffeur, who had gotten his Coke and was sipping it while perched on a fire hydrant, observed this, jumped up, and got back into the car, and the Cadillac drove off.

“Archer?”

Archer turned around to see Jackie Tuttle staring at him from across the way.

Jackie Tuttle wasn’t really looking at Archer, though. He could see that now. She was looking over his shoulder, at the Cadillac rolling down the street.

She pulled her gaze away and walked over to him. Then she took a whiff and drew back, holding a hand to her nose. “You stink, do you know that?”

He looked down at himself. “Well, butchering hogs doesn’t exactly make you smell pretty.”

“Is that what you’re doing now?”

“Got my butt kicked out of the hotel.”

“Where are you staying then?”

“Working on it.”

“Look, you can stay with me, Archer.”

He shook his head. “No.”