“That’s okay. I’ve had a major problem here. Somebody tried to burn us out last night…” He kept thinking he shouldn’t do it, but he babbled out the story of the stable fire, the smell of gasoline, and after a while, Blair said, “This is good stuff. No, wait, this isgreatstuff. I’ll see you down there.”
She hung up before Virgil could tell her not to come, and when he tried to call her back, she didn’t pick up. He knew why: because this wasgreatstuff.
Off the phone, he walked back to the house where Frankie and Sam and Alex and Willa were sitting at the kitchen table, with Honus under it. Frankie had a yellow legal pad and a pen: “All right, what are we going to do about a stable?” she asked.
“I’ll talk to the bank on Monday, get a loan for a Morton building or something like it. A stable kit,” Virgil said. “Probably get it up before snowfall if we get started. Don’t really need a mortgage, just a short-term loan and I’ll pay it off with the new contract.”
“I liked the one you built,” Frankie said. “It was like old-fashioned; it fit the farm.”
“Yeah, until the goddamned thing went up like a nuclear weapon,” Virgil said. “Wouldn’t have happened with a metal building. Mighthave burned the hay and bedding, but the whole building wouldn’t have come down…If it weren’t for Honus…” He gave the dog a scratch. “Anyway, we’ve got the weekend, we can figure out what we can do, and you can call some of the stable-kit companies on Monday. Probably ought to get something bigger anyway. Maybe eight stalls.”
“You think?” Frankie said. Her eyes rolled up to the ceiling, already calculating.
A pickup roared into the driveway, they could hear it but not see it, and Sam got up and looked out and said, “Moses.”
Moses was Frankie’s hotheaded third son, a big man, dark hair, broad shoulders; a minute later standing in the doorway. “I saw Olaf in town and he said somebody torched the place. Who do I kill?”
Frankie said, “Not funny, Mose,” and when Moses stepped toward her with an arm out, she shrank away and said, “No hugs, you big lug. I’m burned, for Christ’s sakes.”
Moses: “Not funny? Did I sound like I was joking?”
—
They talked abouta stable replacement, and any possible further danger they thought the farm might be in. “I doubt whoever it is will try again,” Virgil said. “I think this was to pull me off that damn true crime case up in the Cities.”
Frankie: “But why?”
“Because we’re getting close.”
“When I find out who it is, I’m going to kill ’em,” Moses said again.
Virgil: “A little pro tip, here, Mose. When you plan to kill somebody, don’t tell anyone. Don’t tell your mother, don’t even whisper it to one of your cats.”
Moses nodded. “I see where you’re going with that.”
They were still talking when a three-car convoy pulled into the yard. They all stood up to look as the cars rolled right past the house to the clump of ashes where the stable used to be, and five women piled out and began making movies. Cash, Blair, and Weitz, along with a couple of women Virgil didn’t know.
Virgil said, “Ah, shit,” and when he hustled outside, they began taking pictures of him. “Listen, you guys…”
“We know what you’re gonna say,” Cash said. “That’s why we went straight through the yard. And you can forget it. You’re gonna be a movie star.”
Moses came out: “Can I be in the movie?”
The cameras swiveled to him: “If you got anything good to tell us,” Cash said.
Virgil said, “Mose…”
Moses said, “It was arson. They’re trying to pull Virgil off the case. My mom and brother smelled gasoline when they went in the stable to rescue the horses, and we never keep gas in there.”
Virgil: “Moses, Jesus Christ.”
Moses: “Tellin’ like it is.”
Cash had to smile, but Virgil said, “Ah, God.”
After a while, and a lot of movies, that included Virgil, Frankie, Moses and Sam, Alex and Willa, and Honus, the women packed up and left.
“Talk about clickbait,” Frankie said, as the last of them rolled out onto the road.
