Gone to Glory Read online

“Why would he do that?”

  “I’m sorry. I should have explained. I’ve gone over this so many times before, both in my mind and to friends, that I sometimes think everybody knows what’s going on. You see, she and Pepper are a lot like me and Golly. But with one exception. When we inherited some money, we both agreed on what should be done with it. That we would buy back the family home. But when Priscilla and Pepper inherited land, they fought like cats and dogs. He wanted to sell and she didn’t. That’s why he brought her here, to show her what Hap’s coaching money would be used for.”

  “And what did she say to that?”

  “What could she say? We introduced her to all our old folks. Once she knew them personally, knew that they’d be out on the street if we had to close down the home, she had no choice. She agreed to sell.”

  29

  Traveler found Hap Kilgore standing outside Derks Field looking up at the left field fence. He had a fielder’s glove on one hand and his Redman pouch in the other. “They’re holding afternoon batting practice,” he explained at Traveler’s approach.

  Traveler cocked his head, listening for the crack of the bat. What he heard was the rush of nearby traffic on Main Street.

  “‘If my Saints keep their eyes on the ball like I taught ’em, home runs ought to be coming my way any minute. All I’ve got to do is catch three balls and turn them in and I get a free ticket to tonight’s game.”

  Kilgore dipped his mouth into the tobacco pouch without taking his eyes from the fence. His lips puckered to scoop out a mouthful before he returned the pack to his pocket. His hand was then free to remove his cap, an old Bees model, Traveler noticed, with SL stitched on the front instead of the Saints’ haloed S.

  “The trouble is, I don’t know who’s up at the plate batting,” Kilgore said. “Otherwise I could position myself better.” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder toward Main Street. “If a ball gets past me, it’s hell chasing it down in traffic.”

  He shifted his feet as if to limber up, but nearly lost his balance in the process. It was then Traveler noticed that the old man’s face was gray with fatigue.

  “For Christ’s sake, Hap, why don’t you rest for a while? Tickets don’t cost that much.”

  “I’ve got to save every nickel if I’m going to pay that big-city fee of yours. Speaking of which, maybe it’s about time you backed off. Pepper has a good lawyer. You told me so yourself. And I hate to spend money I haven’t got.”

  Kilgore tucked the cap under his arm, liberating a hand to wipe the sweat from his bald head while still keeping his mitt at the ready. A red welt circled his head where the sweatband had been.

  “How long have you been waiting out here?” Traveler asked.

  “Thirty minutes or so. Since the start of afternoon batting practice. I was unlucky this morning. Only one ball cleared the fence and some kid beat me to it.”

  “I’ll buy you a ticket.”

  Kilgore replaced the cap, adjusting it carefully until it matched the crease in his head. His glance at Traveler was no more than a twitch. “It’s a matter of pride, Mo. I haven’t bought my way into a ball game in years. I’m not about to start now.”

  The echoing sound of a bat connecting with a baseball started Kilgore pounding his glove in expectation. “That sounds like it has some distance.”

  “I’ve got it,” someone called from inside the park.

  “Son of a bitch,” Kilgore exploded. “Those guys can’t hit shit today. Pepper’s going to have to do some housecleaning when he takes over.”

  “Left field here is longer than most major league parks. You said so yourself.”

  “We’re talking batting practice, for God’s sake. You throw a pitch down the middle and even a hitter like Pepper ought to be able to knock them out of the park occasionally.”

  “If the Saints are that bad, why waste your time standing here?”

  “I told you. It’s the principle of the thing. If I don’t get any balls this afternoon, I’ll wait out front during the next game. There’s always a couple of dozen fouled over the grandstand. They’re in good condition, too, since they haven’t been used for batting practice. Of course the Saints pay a couple of high school kids to retrieve them. They take them away from you if they can.”

  “How the hell can you compete?”

  “They’re faster than I am, sure. Stronger, too. But I know the tricks of the trade. Some of the balls end up hidden under cars, or in the storm drains. So don’t worry about me. I’ll come up with a couple.” He kept watching the sky above left field.

  ‘“We’ve got to talk,” Traveler said.

  Kilgore stiffened, turning slowly toward Traveler for the first time as he spoke. “Is something wrong? Is Pepper … Jesus, man, you look awful. What happened to your face?”

  “Zeke Eldredge.”

  “I warned you. That man’s dangerous, a goddamned lunatic. Why the police arrested Pepper instead of him I’ll never know.”

  “Let’s go somewhere,” Traveler said. “I haven’t had lunch yet.”

  “I brown-bagged it so I wouldn’t have to leave my post.” The old man’s eyes started to look away, anxious to be back searching for home runs, when he suddenly caught himself. “Shit. What am I thinking of? You didn’t come down here to show me your face. Or talk baseball either.” He spit tobacco juice. “I can see it in your eyes. Bad news.”

  “Kate Ferguson is dead.”

  A sudden intake of breath sent tobacco down Kilgore’s throat and started him choking. Traveler pounded him on the back until the old man flapped his arms to indicate he was all right.

  “What happened?” Kilgore croaked.

  “She was murdered.”

  Kilgore coughed and swallowed, then repeated the process. “It has to be Zeke. She was probably doing something to help Pepper and got herself killed.”

  “I told the sheriff in Fillmore pretty much the same thing, that Eldredge was the logical suspect.”

  “Christ, I hope I’m wrong,” Kilgore went on. “But Pepper has that effect on people. He gets people like Kate to do what he wants without actually asking.”

  “I don’t think you have to worry. As far as I know, she had no contact with Pepper after he was arrested.”

  “I’m not saying he told her to go out and spy on Zeke Eldredge. But she was Pepper’s fiancée, for Christ’s sake.

  He could manipulate her as easily as he did the players on his team. Or maybe motivate is a better word. Whatever you call it, it’s a thing with him. He loves being in control. He has these pep talks he uses to win friends and influence people, as they say. Look at me. I wanted to help him but didn’t know how. So I did the next best thing. I brought you into it.”

  “What are you getting at? That Pepper was responsible? By proxy?”

  “Christ, who knows? Maybe I’ve been standing out here in the sun too long.”

  The loud crack of a bat preceded the appearance of a baseball soaring over the stadium wall. Unnoticed by Hap, it rolled all the way to Main Street.

  30

  By the time Traveler reached the Chester Building the weather had changed again. Angry-looking thunderheads were sailing across the Wasatch Mountains like prairie schooners following the Mormon Trail. He bypassed his usual parking lot and pulled into the red zone out front. The lobby was empty except for Nephi Bates standing guard outside his elevator. At Traveler’s approach, the man held up his Book of Mormon like a vampire hunter confronting Dracula.

  Traveler took the stairs. The three flights left him more winded than they should have. He panted into the office and dropped onto the client’s chair next to his father’s desk.

  “Did you get my note?” Martin asked as he set aside the book he’d been reading. Its title was How to Cope with a New Baby in the House. Half a dozen other volumes on the same subject were stacked nearby.

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sp; Traveler nodded.

  Martin slipped off his reading glasses and studied his son’s battered face, tilting his head first one way and then the other like an art critic trying to achieve the perfect perspective. “You’ve looked worse, but that won’t keep me from saying I told you so.”

  “I know. Moroni Traveler and Son’s rules for survival.”

  “Exactly. God and religion don’t mix. Now tell me. What does Zeke Eldredge’s face look like?”

  “I didn’t lay a hand on him. I got sucker-punched by one of his wives.”

  “I’ll be goddamned.” Martin pressed his lips together, quelling a smile. “Speaking of women, did you call Claire?”

  “Yes.”

  “I hope you asked her when the baby’s due?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Traveler said, still having trouble with his breathing.

  “The sound of you tells me the elevator’s broken down again.”

  “No. It’s Nephi. He’s in one of his moods.”

  “You know who put him there, don’t you? Willis Tanner. He was here less than an hour ago. He’s Elton Woolley’s personal messenger as far as Nephi’s concerned. From Willis’ mouth come the words of the president of the church, God’s living prophet on earth.”

  “Considering how close Willis is to Woolley, that’s probably true.”

  “‘Behold, I will send my messenger, and he shall prepare the way before me,’” Martin said, quoting scripture as revised by the church’s first prophet, Joe Smith.

  “Very impressive. Now tell me what Willis had to say.”

  “That he came in person because he didn’t trust the phones. When I heard that, I expected a revelation from God at the very least. What I got was news that Pepper Dalton has been hospitalized with chest pains.”

  “A heart attack?”

  “They don’t think so, but they’re not taking chances. They’ve got him under guard at the LOS Hospital. Why would he come here to tell me that?”

  “Because I asked Willis to get me in to see Pepper.”

  “No chance of that now. Willis made a point of saying so.”

  “I’m stuck, then. There’s not much more I can do.”

  “To begin with, you can help me make some important decisions.” Martin slapped a palm down on the how-to books at his elbow. “First, you’ve got to understand that having a baby isn’t like bringing home a new puppy. Things have to be done. The way I see it we can begin by fixing up your room. Of course that’s going to leave you out in the cold.”

  Traveler eased out of his chair to stare at the temple across the street. Its spires looked tall enough to poke holes in the passing thunderheads .

  “Naturally, Claire will have to stay there, too, as long as she’s nursing.”

  Every so often his father came up with schemes that would give Traveler an excuse to move out of the house.

  He did it so Traveler wouldn’t feel obliged to stay on and keep an old man company.

  “We’ll paint over your furniture, either blue or pink depending on the sex of the baby.”

  “Claire told me it’s going to be Moroni the third,” Traveler said.

  “There are times when I’m certain that woman is related to your mother. When a man gets to be my age he wants grandchildren. He has the need to pass his heritage on to the next generation. Family histories and memories. Everything that makes you immortal.”

  Traveler crossed the room to his own desk. From there he said, “You haven’t told me all the family history yet.”

  “It’s easier with someone you don’t know.”

  “For God’s sake.” Traveler knew that he wasn’t Martin’s biological son, that he’d been conceived while Martin was away in the army. But the closest Martin had ever come to admitting it was to say that upbringing was more important than genetics.

  Martin said, “If you’re not going to give me grandchildren, I’ll have to settle for another son.”

  “In that case you’ll want to see this.” Traveler handed him the Monopoly card with Claire’s note on the back. “As the expectant father, you’ll want to start calling the hospitals to find her.”

  “And what will you be doing?”

  “Going home to bed.”

  “I don’t think so. You see, there’s something else I haven’t told you. The prophet’s messenger had something else to say. Two people are being allowed into the hospital to see Pepper Dalton. Hap Kilgore and Dalton’s attorney, Sam Howe, who’s just been named to head up Deseret Coal and Gas. The same people who want to buy Glory.”

  31

  Late afternoon sun slanted through a break in the clouds, creating a rainbow in the rain high on the east bench. Traveler judged it to be somewhere near the Phoebe Clinton Home. But he doubted there would be any pot of gold by the time he got there.

  He had a stop to make on the way, the Deseret Coal and Gas Company on Second South. Its offices were located in one of those tum-of-the-century red brick, stone-corniced buildings whose grimy past had been sandblasted away to create a fashionable present.

  Sam Howe was waiting for him inside, perched on the receptionist’s desk in an otherwise deserted outer office.

  “Good to see you, Moroni,” he said, hopping off the furniture to shake hands enthusiastically. He was nearly a foot shorter than Traveler and spoke without looking up. “I’d make you more comfortable in one of our inner sanctums, but the drones are here going over the books.”

  “Congratulations,” Traveler responded, indicating the premises with a sweep of his hand. “I understand you’re in charge now.”

  “A temporary measure only, I assure you. A matter of reorganization. I like to think of it as a special kind of Chapter Eleven. Only this is a moral bankruptcy, with me here to protect both the financial and spiritual interests of the creditors.” He grinned. “Now, what can I do for you?”

  “I need a legal opinion. Wouldn’t you say it was a conflict of interest to represent both Pepper Dalton and Deseret Coal at the same time?”

  Howe squinted up at Traveler’s face before returning to his perch. “A man your size ought to be able to win his battles. But one look at your face tells me you don’t know when to back off.”

  “Is that a warning?”

  “Don’t misunderstand me. All I’m talking about is Conflict of interest, since you brought up the subject. Like what comes first in a man’s priorities.”

  “You mean the church.”

  “Think about it, Moroni. God put the coal there in Glory for us to use. It’s only a question of when and how we choose to mine it.”

  “You left out the profit to be made.”

  The attorney shook his head. “I feel sorry for you, Moroni. I really do. The only prophet I’m concerned with is God’s—and that’s not spelled the same way.”

  “Zeke Eldredge has been called a prophet.”

  “It doesn’t take a theologian to know that a repentant sinner is always welcome to rejoin the fold.”

  “Is that your way of saying business is business? That you’ll deal with Eldredge if you have to?”

  “You and I both represent Pepper Dalton, so you might as well know the truth. He’s already signed an agreement of sale with us here at Deseret Coal. That was part of my fee.”

  “And if he loses in court?”

  “When I appear for the defense, Moroni, people know where I stand. Both judges and juries.”

  “Humor me. Pretend there’s been a travesty of justice and your client has been convicted.”

  Howe ran a hand through his short, sandy hair. “I’m only a simple lawyer, you understand.”

  And thirteenth apostle, Traveler reminded himself.

  “But it’s my opinion that Priscilla Dalton was only one wife among many,” he went on. “That makes her no wife at all in the eyes of the law.”

&
nbsp; “Zeke told me that she was the only woman he ever married legally. He’s got a marriage certificate to prove it.”

  “Bullshit.” Howe’s teeth snapped as if trying to bite back the obscenity.

  “I saw the document myself.”

  “It’s a forgery. It has to be. Priscilla Dalton left no documents behind, no written will. Since her marriage is a fraud, her brother, as next-of-kin, becomes sole owner of the Glory Mine.”

  “Then you won’t mind if I talk to him.”

  “Be my guest.”

  “I need your permission.”

  “For what it’s worth, you have it.”

  Traveler didn’t like Howe’s tone but didn’t figure him for a liar either.

  Traveler changed the subject. “Zeke Eldredge is not the kind of man to give up Glory without a fight.”

  “Then the Lambs of God will be led to slaughter.”

  32

  There was no sign of a rainbow by the time Traveler reached the Phoebe Clinton Home. Light was fading from the sky. The smell of cabbage leaking all the way to the porte cochere told him dinnertime was near.

  He found Hap Kilgore and Mary Cook holding hands on the concrete stoop around back. They broke contact as soon as they saw him. Kilgore, whose normal complexion was red, flushed an even brighter shade than usual. Mary matched his color. The adoring look in her eyes made Traveler envious.

  “Mo,” Kilgore said, “what brings you here?”

  “I just left Sam Howe. He’s given me permission to see Pepper.”

  Mary touched Hap on the arm, a lover’s gesture. “He’s already out on bail,” she said.

  “That’s right,” Kilgore added. “He called me himself to say that it was all over but the shouting.”

  “I don’t understand,” Traveler said.

  “I don’t know all the details myself. But Pepper told me that his lawyer had done his stuff, and that charges will be dropped and bail refunded any time now.”

  “We owe it to you, Mr. Traveler,” Mary said.

  Kilgore nodded his agreement. “Pepper said the same thing. That you stirring things up in Glory convinced everybody he didn’t do it.”