The Man in the Moon by James M. Reasoner

Markham was just passing through — until he saw the runaway children with bruises on their bodies!

I almost didn’t see the kids in time. They popped up in the glare of the headlights on the side of the road. I hit the brakes and swung out into the other lane to miss them.

I got a pretty good look at them as I went past. There were two of them, a boy and a girl, and neither one could have been more than ten years old. I wondered what the hell they were doing trudging along a lonely state highway in the middle of the night.

After spending the day in Arizona telling a grand jury all about a case I had been involved, in several months back, I had decided to drive all night and try to make it across the desert while it was still cool. I had opted for this state road instead of the interstate because I hadn’t felt like fighting the traffic.

The car came to a stop several yards past them. I put it in park and opened my door. When I got out and turned toward the kids, I saw in the glow of the taillights that they had stopped and were regarding me warily.

The boy was older, eight or nine maybe, wearing tennis shoes, blue jeans, and a tee shirt. His light hair was tousled and grew down to a slight widow’s peak.

His sister, which she unmistakably was, was two or three years younger, with the same light hair, cut short. She wore a sleeveless knit top and bright yellow shorts. She looked cold. Nights on the desert are like that.

I tried to make my voice as calm and reassuring as I could. I didn’t want to scare them. “Hi. Do you guys need some help? A ride maybe?”

The boy said, “No, thank you. We were taught not to accept rides from strangers.”

He was putting on a nice polite front, but I could tell that he was scared. I guess I would have been, too, in his place. There was no telling how long they had been plodding along in the darkness.

“Listen, kids,” I said, “my name is Markham. What’s yours?”

“Cindy,” the girl piped. “I’m cold.”

“I told you to be quiet, Cindy.” The boy was all business. “I’m John Wheeler, Jr., sir.”

“I’m glad to meet you, John and Cindy.”

“Everybody calls him Jackie,” Cindy told me seriously.

Before he could shush her again, I went on, “All right, now that we know each other, we’re not strangers, are we? How about if I take you home?”

Jackie was still suspicious, no doubt feeling responsible for his sister, but he was obviously tired and wanted to turn the both of them over to some sympathetic grown-up. He hesitated, then said, “Well... all right. If you take us straight home.”

“Sure. I’ll be glad to.”

I opened the door on the passenger side and held it for them. The girl got in first, and I could see the goose bumps on her arms and legs. She must have been really chilled.

It was when Jackie stepped into the illumination of the dome light that I had trouble concealing my surprise. Bruises covered his arms, and the vestiges of a black eye darkened his face. There was something that looked very much like a cigarette burn on the back of his left hand, and his right hand was swollen and bruised.

I had heard of abused children, of course, just like everybody else, but this was the first hard evidence I had seen. I felt a tightening in my stomach, but I didn’t say anything.

Instead, I got in the car myself and then, keeping my tone fairly light, asked, “Where in the world did you kids come from?”

“Back there.” Jackie pointed in the direction from which I had come.

“Are you sure you’re not the Man in the Moon?” Cindy asked. “My daddy says that the Man in the Moon gets little girls who don’t do what their daddies tell them to.”

I smiled and ran a hand over her hair. “I’m not the Man in the Moon.”

“Good. ’Cause I think he’s bad.”

I looked over her head at Jackie and asked, “Where were you going? Do you live around here?”

“Up the road, in Dunes,” he answered.

I remembered Dunes vaguely from earlier trips. It was a little place on the road about five miles up ahead. A long walk for two little kids. I put the car in gear and said, “I’ll take you there.”

As I drove through the night toward Dunes, I did some hard thinking. There were no marks on Cindy that I could see, but Jackie had definitely been through the mill. If he had gotten treatment like that at home, I wasn’t so sure it was a good thing to take him back. But that wasn’t really up to me to decide. Still, there was nothing to stop me from having a long talk with the parents when I got there.

It didn’t take us long to reach the little town. The gas station and the few stores were dark, as were most of the houses. I asked Jackie, “Where to now?”

“We live in a trailer.” He pointed to the left. “Over there.”

There was a trailer park a couple of blocks off the highway. I turned toward it and then saw the county sheriff’s car parked in front of one of the trailers. All the lights were on inside, and I knew without asking that this was where Jackie and Cindy lived.

Cindy confirmed that with a pointing finger and a high-pitched, “There’s our trailer!”

I came to a stop behind the sheriff’s car and killed the engine. Almost before it quit turning over, the kids were out and scrambling up the wooden steps to the door of the trailer.

Someone inside heard them coming. The door was flung open. A women stepped out and uttered a nearly hysterical cry, then swept the two of them up in her arms. As I got out of the car, I could hear her sobbing, “Oh my God... You’re all right, you’re all right!”

A tall man stepped out behind the woman and looked past the reunion at me. He came around them and down the steps. He was holding his hat in his hands, but I didn’t have any trouble recognizing the uniform or the holstered revolver at his hip.

He nodded as he came up to me. “Howdy. I’m Sheriff Cartwright. Where’d you find the kids?”

“On the highway about five miles out,” I answered. “They were coming in this direction already, so I thought I’d give them a ride. A couple of runaways who changed their minds?”

“Nope.” I couldn’t see his eyes in the darkness, but I could tell that they were taking a long hard look at me. “Could I see some I.D.?”

I got out the leather folder with both of my licenses in it and handed it to him. He turned slightly so that the light from the trailer would fall on it and then studied the contents. “Private detective,” he grunted. “What are you doing around here?”

“Just passing through on my way home. I was in Arizona testifying about a case.” I didn’t really have to volunteer that information, but I didn’t see any harm in it.

“Were the children by themselves?”

“Yeah. I didn’t know where they came from, but I wasn’t going to leave them out there.”

“Do you know John Wheeler?”

“The father?”

Cartwright nodded.

“The only Wheelers I know are Jackie and Cindy. Like I said, I’m just passing through.”

Cartwright nodded again and handed the folder back to me. He didn’t say anything, just stood there with a speculative look on his weathered face.

“What’s going on here, Sheriff?” I asked. “Has there been some trouble?”

“Yes, there was. The Wheelers are separated, and Mrs. Wheeler has custody of the children. John Wheeler came over earlier tonight and took them away.”

“That’s kidnapping.”

“It sure is. And before he came over here, he burglarized his father-in-law’s business. I’ve got men out looking for Wheeler right now. I guess the kids slipped away from him somehow. I’m right glad you found them.”

I said, “You and me both.”

Mrs. Wheeler set the children down and seemed to notice me for the first time. She came down the steps and almost ran up to me.

“Thank you,” she said, grabbing my hand. “Thank you for bringing them back.” Emotion choked her voice.

Effusive gratitude was not what I wanted. To get back home was, now that the kids were safe. I took my hand back gently and said, “I was glad to do it.”

Cartwright put a hand on Mrs. Wheeler’s arm and said, “Don’t you think those children should be getting into a warm bed, Elaine?”

She turned to him and said, “Don’t you want to question them, Sheriff? I want you to find John.”

“That can wait.”

“No it can’t.” Elaine Wheeler’s voice had risen slightly, as if in anger. “I want you to find him tonight. I want you to find him and do something to him. Punish him.”

I told myself to get in the car and be on my way. But I made the mistake of taking a closer look at Elaine Wheeler.

She was in her late twenties or early thirties, not a bad-looking woman, with short, curly blond hair and a sturdy but well-formed figure. The thing that bothered me about her was the note of viciousness in her voice as she spoke about her husband.

Cartwright was saying, “There’ll be plenty of time to worry about that in the morning—”

“No! I want him caught tonight! He can’t steal my children and get away with it.”

The two of them seemed to have forgotten about the kids and me. I left Cartwright to wrangle with her and strolled over to the porch of the trailer. Jackie and Cindy were still standing there, watching the goings-on intently.

I went up the steps and said, “Come on. Let’s go inside where it’s not so chilly.”

I herded them into the cheaply furnished living room and then asked, “Are you guys hungry?”

Cindy said, “I’m thirsty.”

Jackie nodded and said, “There’s milk in the refrigerator, but we’re not allowed to get it for ourselves.”

“I’ll get some for you. While I’m doing that, why don’t you get into some nice warm pajamas? Where do you sleep?”

Jackie told me that they shared a bedroom and pointed down the hall. I said, “You go ahead and get ready for bed. I’ll get the milk.”

I went into the tiny kitchen and found a couple of clean glasses in a cabinet. I poured them full of milk from the jug in the refrigerator and then carried them down the hall to the kids’ room.

The two twin beds nearly filled the little room up. An unshaded light bulb cast a harsh glare. Jackie and Cindy had put pajamas on, and they were both sitting on one of the beds.

I sat down on the other bed and handed them the milk. As they started on it thirstily, I asked, “Who was it that hit you, Jackie?”

He wouldn’t meet my eyes. He swallowed some more milk and then said quietly, “Mama. But it was my fault. I was bad. I played too loud.”

“Did your daddy hit you, too?”

“Sometimes. Before he went away.”

My fists wanted to clench, but somehow I kept them lying flat on my knees. I was way out of my depth here. I knew something about how to handle con men and blackmailers and straying spouses, but nothing in my line of work had prepared me for a couple of battered kids.

“What about you, Cindy?”

She was embarrassed by the whole thing and wouldn’t look at me, either. She said in almost a whisper, “They pinched me when I was bad. But I try real hard not to be bad.”

I took a deep breath. “What happened tonight?”

“Daddy came and took us,” Jackie said. “He said we were going to live with him. But he was acting funny. He scared us. When he stopped the car, we ran away from him.”

I was going to ask more questions, but the squeal of tires outside interrupted me. I heard the slam of a car door and then a harsh voice barked, “What the hell are you doing here, Cartwright? Why aren’t you out hunting that no-good jackass who stole my grandchildren and robbed my place?”

Cartwright’s answer was loud enough for me to hear it. “The children are all right, Ralph. They’re inside. And there’ll be plenty of time to find John in the morning.”

The kids were finished with their milk. I stood up and said, “You guys had better try to get some sleep.” I reached over and flipped off the light.

“Can I stay here with Jackie?” Cindy asked.

“I think that would be all right.”

As I turned to go, Jackie said, “Thank you for helping us, Mr. Markham. Will you come back to see us?”

I paused in the doorway and then said, “Sure, Jackie. I’ll come back to see you, maybe tomorrow. Good night.”

“G’night,” Cindy said sleepily.

As I stepped out into the hall, I heard her Say to Jackie, “Do you think the Man in the Moon got Daddy?”

When I stepped out of the trailer, I saw the pudgy, middle-aged man who was lambasting Cartwright about catching John Wheeler. Wheeler had certainly aroused the ire of a lot of people.

The new arrival was chunky and balding and had a gray moustache under a jutting nose. Cartwright was reassuring him that John Wheeler would be caught and dealt with according to the law, but it wasn’t appeasing him.

The man spotted me coming down the steps of the trailer and swung toward me. He snapped, “Who the hell are you?”

Cartwright answered for me. “He’s the one who found your grandchildren out on the highway, Barrett. Name’s Markham.”

Ralph Barrett still had a truculent look on his face, but he stuck out a big paw and said, “Thanks, Markham. We appreciate the help.”

I returned the handshake and said, “I didn’t want to leave them out there.”

Cartwright asked, “You didn’t see anybody else around where you found the children, did you?”

“No. I don’t know where they came from. That bothered me...”

“Well, we’ll find Wheeler.”

“When?” Elaine jumped on him. “I’m not sure you even want to find him.”

Cartwright’s face tightened, but he kept it under control. After a second, he said, “I’ll talk to you again in the morning, Mrs. Wheeler. I’m glad the children are all right.” He turned and walked toward the car.

I followed him. Elaine Wheeler and her father went into the trailer. Before Cartwright got into the car, he paused and leaned a hip on the fender. He evidently wanted to talk to me as much as I wanted to talk to him.

He started it off. “Do you know anything else about all this?”

I shook my head. “Nothing that’ll help you find Wheeler. What’s the situation here, Sheriff? Are those kids safe?”

He rubbed his lantern jaw. “I wish I knew, Markham?”

“You know they’ve been abused?”

“I suspected as much. I saw that the boy had a black eye.”

“Did you see the cigarette burn on his hand?”

“No... I didn’t.” Cartwright’s voice hardened. “It’s damn tough, Markham. I’ve heard rumors about how the Wheelers treated them, but without some hard evidence, there’s nothing the county can do.”

“How much more evidence do you need?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have a talk with the child welfare people first thing in the morning.”

I asked, “How about some background? Who are these people?”

“Not meaning to sound rude, Markham, but what business is it of yours?”

“I found those kids and brought them back here. I feel a little responsibility.”

He nodded and I knew he understood. “Elaine is a local girl. Her father has a big trucking business. He about disowned her when she married John Wheeler a few years back. Wheeler wasn’t from around here, and what made it even worse as far as Ralph Barrett was concerned, he didn’t have any prospects. He took what odd jobs he could find, which aren’t many in a county like this, but mostly he wanted to be an artist. Of course, none of his paintings ever sold, and the family had to live in this little trailer and just scrape by, but that didn’t seem to bother Wheeler.”

“It bothered his wife and father-in-law, though, didn’t it?”

“That’s what brought on the separation. That and Joyce McCormick.”

“Another woman?”

“Yep. Wheeler started carrying on with her about six months ago, and Elaine threw him out. She’s filed for divorce, but the case hasn’t made it through the courts yet.” He paused and gave me that long hard look again. “You’re not planning to get mixed up in this business, are you, Markham? There’s nothing in it for you.”

“You’re absolutely fight, Sheriff. I just wanted to know a little more about it before I headed on back to L.A. I was just worried about the kids.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Well, now that they’re safe, I’m going to call my boys in. No telling where Wheeler is by now, and I’m not going to stay up all night just to satisfy Ralph’s and Elaine’s vindictiveness. You don’t have to tell anybody I said that.”

“I won’t.” I handed him one of my cards. “If you need any more information from me, you can reach me at that number.”

He got in his car and said, “Be seeing you, Markham. Take it easy.”

I waved at him and then walked back to my own car as he drove off. Before I could get in, though, the door of the trailer opened and Ralph Barrett hurried out. He caught up to me and said, “Wait a minute, Mr. Markham. I want to talk to you.”

I didn’t want to talk to him, but I didn’t have the energy it takes to be rude. I said, “Yes, Mr. Barrett?”

“Elaine heard the sheriff say you were a private detective. I want to hire you.”

“To do what?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“To find my son-in-law and bring him back to me. I don’t trust Cartwright.”

“He seems to be a good man. I don’t want to step on anybody’s toes, Mr. Barrett.”

“Wheeler has to be punished for what he’s done.”

“There are courts to handle that sort of thing, you know.”

He didn’t catch the sarcasm in my voice. He said sharply, “This is wide country, Markham. Some things we handle on our own.”

“I get it,” I said, not bothering to keep the rough edges out of my voice. “I find Wheeler and bring him back here, and you beat him half to death. Is that it?”

“Maybe not just half.”

I opened the car door and got in. “Good night, Mr. Barrett. I’m glad the children are all right.” It seemed like I kept saying that, but no one was listening. Like the children weren’t the main concern.

I didn’t give him a chance to say anything else. He opened his mouth, but I cranked the engine and put the car in gear before any words came out.

The last hour had taken a lot out of me, and I wasn’t as determined to drive all night now. I kept seeing Jackie’s face and hearing Cindy’s giggle. And as soon as I did, I thought about the marks on them, the ones that showed and the ones that didn’t.

I came into a larger town about twenty minutes later, found a motel with its vacancy sign lit up, and turned into the lot gratefully.

The next morning found me heading back toward Dunes. After a few hours of fitful sleep, I had decided I wanted to see how things turned out. There were no cases waiting for me at home, and every so often, you have to indulge your curiosity.

On the highway the night before, I had noticed Ralph Barrett’s trucking operation. It was a big fenced yard with several buildings and some trucks inside, and at the time, it had been dark and quiet. Now, as I passed it this morning, it was bustling with activity.

When I came into Dunes, I spotted Sheriff Cartwright’s car parked at the gas station. I pulled up behind it and got out. Cartwright came out of the office, followed by the station attendant.

“Didn’t expect to see you again,” he said.

“I decided to stick around and see if I could be any help to you,” I said. He frowned, so I hurried on, “I mean I thought I could take you out to the exact spot where If found the kids. Have you talked to them this morning?”

“Yeah, I got their story, what there was of it. The little girl didn’t remember much, and she was kind of confused about what she did remember, but Jackie told me what he could. It seems Elaine left them playing by the trailer, yesterday evening while she walked down to the store. Wheeler drove up while she was gone, grabbed both kids, and put them in the car. They drove around for a long time, Jackie said, but he didn’t know where they were. Wheeler told them they were going to live with him from now on, that they’d never see their mother again. Something happened to the car, and when Wheeler got out to check it, the kids slipped out and ran off. Wheeler couldn’t find them in the dark. Jackie found the highway and they started walking. You found them a little while later.”

I shook my head. “Hell of an experience for a couple of little kids.”

“Yeah. Barrett thinks I don’t care if I find Wheeler, but I promise you, Markham, I do. I just don’t want Ralph Barrett taking the law into his own hands, that’s all.”

We strolled back toward the cars, out of earshot of the gas station attendant. I didn’t know if Cartwright would answer my question or not, but I asked it anyway. “You don’t like Barrett or Mrs. Wheeler very much, do you?”

Cartwright considered before he said anything. Then he replied, “Barrett is an important man in this county. I can’t afford to dislike him, not if I want to stay sheriff. And I do want to stay sheriff.” After a pause, he went on, “That doesn’t close my eyes up entirely, though. Barrett is a hothead, a man who made a success of his business by running roughshod over other people. He won’t think twice about violence if that’s what it takes to get what he wants.”

He paused again and looked reflective, then went on, “Elaine’s mother died a long time ago, and Barrett spoiled the girl. She never did grow up, and she blamed Wheeler for getting her into trouble with her father. Sometimes, Markham, I think that boy Jackie is more grown-up than his mother is.”

“I got the same impression.”

“Of course, Wheeler is no prize himself, but Elaine should have known what she was getting herself into.” Cartwright smiled wearily. “Those are damn nice kids. Sometimes I wonder how they turned out that way.”

He took his straw cowboy hat off and wiped the sweat from his brow. Even though the day was young, it was already hot. He said, “Well, let’s go, if you want to show me where you found them.”

I pulled my Ford over to the side of the lot, out of the way, and then joined the sheriff in his car. It didn’t take us long to cover the few miles of highway.

“It was along about here,” I said a few minutes later. “Of course, it was dark, but I checked my odometer and this should be the place.”

I found marks in the gravel shoulder where I had pulled over, and Cartwright brought his car to a stop across the road.

There was nothing to indicate where the kids might have come from, and since neither one of them could say for sure, that left Cartwright with a hell of a big area to cover. And Wheeler could be long gone from the county.

“Well, I’ll just have to put out an APB and bring the state police in on it,” Cartwright said. “I don’t know what else to do.”

I looked out the car window at the flat country surrounding us. Some foothills jutted up a few miles off the road on one side, and on the other, the scrub-covered desert stretched as far as I could see. It was about as desolate a place as I had ever seen, and I thought again about the kids being stuck out here in the middle of the night.

My mind was telling me something about where they might have come from, but I couldn’t quite tune in on it. I decided to put it on the back burner for a while and see if anything came of that.

Cartwright dropped me off at my car. Before he drove off, he put his hand out the window and asked, “Are you heading back to Los Angeles now?”

“Maybe a little later. I thought I’d say hello to the kids.”

I could tell by the look on his face that he didn’t care much for the idea of me hanging around. He seemed to be a good man, and I couldn’t blame him for not wanting a stranger mixing in his investigation. But I couldn’t just put the situation out of my head, either.

I gave him a little wave as he drove off, but he didn’t return it.

Since I was at the gas station, I had my tank filled and then drove the couple of blocks to the trailer park. I didn’t see Ralph Barrett’s car there, and I was grateful for that.

The kids must have heard the car coming up, because they were outside before I could open my door. As I got out, they chorused, “Hi!”

“Hi. How are you this morning?”

“We’re fine, Mr. Markham,” Jackie answered. “I’m glad you came back to see us.”

“You didn’t think I’d go running off to L.A. without seeing you again, did you?”

“We didn’t know if you cared enough to come back or not.”

There wasn’t much I could say to that. This boy had a finely developed distrust of grownups, and I couldn’t very well blame him, considering what he had gone through.

Cindy was bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. I swept her up and gave her a hug. I started to rumple Jackie’s hair, but a sudden, unexpected recollection stopped me. I had hated it when people did that to me when I was a kid.

Elaine Wheeler appeared in the door of the trailer. She said, “Good morning, Mr. Markham. Did you reconsider my father’s offer?”

Evidently Barrett had told her of our conversation. Before I could answer the question, though, Jackie asked, “Does Grandpa want you to work for him?”

“He wants Mr. Markham to find your daddy and bring him back,” Elaine answered before I could say anything.

I set Cindy down and asked, “Would you like for me to do that, Cindy?”

She nodded. “I want you to bring my daddy back.”

I knew that her motivation was different from her mother’s, but the first step of locating Wheeler was the same in both cases. I turned to Jackie and asked, “How about you, Jackie?”

He shrugged, suddenly disinterested, and said, “I don’t care.” It didn’t matter to him one way or the other if he ever saw his father again, and that was sad. Suddenly, I wanted to find John Wheeler, wanted to find him for myself now, so that I could tell him what he had helped to do to his son.

I said to Elaine, “Can you get in touch with your father?”

“He should be at the trucking yard.”

“Thanks. Call him and tell him I’m on my way to see him.”

I said goodbye to the kids, and Cindy extracted another promise from me to be sure and come back to see them. Jackie was still rather subdued.

It didn’t take long to drive over to Barrett’s trucking yard. I turned in at the gate and headed for a building with a sign in it proclaiming it to be the office. Barrett came out of the building before I got there.

“Elaine called and said you wanted to take the job,” he greeted me.

“Well, I didn’t say that, but... yeah, I do. I’d like to find John Wheeler.”

“Come into the office. We’ll talk money.”

I followed him into the cluttered office. He sat down behind a big metal desk and told me to have a seat in the room’s other chair.

“First, tell me about the robbery here,” I said. “Cartwright didn’t fill me in on that.”

Barrett pointed to a window in the side wall of the office. “He broke the lock and came in through there. He’d been around here enough to know where everything was. He cleaned out everything of value in the desk.”

“How much did he get?”

“About two hundred and fifty dollars in cash, plus some stocks and bonds I kept here.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Not a very good place to keep such things.”

“I never had any trouble until now,” Barrett replied pointedly.

“How do you know Wheeler was responsible?”

“He’s threatened to do something like this before. And the sheriff found his pen here. Must’ve dropped out of his pocket.”

“His pen?”

“His sketching pen. Damn fool think’s he’s an artist. Always carries the pen and a sketch pad around with him.” He took a checkbook out of the middle drawer and asked, “How much do you want?”

“My usual rate is two hundred dollars a day plus expenses. One hundred is good enough for a retainer.”

“All right.” He picked up a pen and opened the checkbook.

“But there’s one thing we have to settle before I take your money.”

He looked up in surprise. “What’s that?”

“If I find Wheeler, I turn him over to Sheriff Cartwright. That’s the only way I’ll take the job.”

He put the pen down. “I don’t know, Markham. There’s a few things I’d like to say to Wheeler before he’s turned over to the law.”

“I’m sure Cartwright would let you visit at the county jail.”

“You just don’t understand, do you, Markham?” Barrett pushed his chair back and stood up. “It wasn’t your office he broke into. It wasn’t your grandchildren he stole. And it wasn’t your daughter that he married in the first place. He ruined Elaine’s life.”

“I imagine she was old enough to make up her own mind. Maybe that’s why you don’t like Wheeler. He’s a symbol of Elaine’s rebellion against you.”

Anger began to turn his face red. He snapped, “I don’t need any amateur psychiatry from a private eye. Do you want to find Wheeler for me or not? If you do, I get him first. Those are my terms.”

“I want to find him. On my terms.”

“Then you won’t get any of my money to help you. Get out of here.”

Barrett was more of an enemy now than ever, but I didn’t care. I stood up and said, “So long, Barrett. I hope I won’t be seeing you again.”

He started around the desk, fists clenched, and then stopped. I guess he saw that my fists were clenched, too, and that I was two inches taller, ten pounds lighter, and twenty years younger. He grated, “Get off my property.”

“I’m going.”

I went. As I left, I saw Barrett talking rapidly to several burly characters who were probably truck drivers or mechanics. Given Barrett’s penchant for violence and his need for revenge on anyone he thought had wronged him, it could be that I had made a bad enemy. I wasn’t going to hunt Wheeler down just so that Barrett and Elaine could have their vengeance, though.

I would have to do it for Cindy’s sake, and for my own.

Joyce McCormick, the other woman in Wheeler’s life, might be a place to start. I found a telephone booth with a directory in it and got the first good break in this mess. Joyce McCormick was listed. There was no address, so I dropped coins into the phone and dialed the number that the book gave.

It rang three times before a woman answered, “Hello?” It was a pleasant enough voice, not sounding annoyed at the intrusion of the telephone.

“Is this Joyce McCormick?” I asked.

“Yes, it is. Who’s this?”

I told her my name and then said, “I’m looking for John Wheeler. Do you know where I might find him?”

Her voice changed. “Are you a policeman? If you are, you’re wasting your time. I’ve already told the sheriff everything I know.”

“I’m a private detective. I’m not working for the sheriff.”

“Then why are you looking for John?”

“It’s a personal matter.”

“Sure. Well, I’ll tell you just what I told the sheriff. I haven’t seen John for four days, I don’t know anything about what he did last night, and I don’t have any idea where he is now. All right?”

“Could I come and talk to you?”

“What for?”

“I want to know more about John and his kids and his wife. And I’d like to meet you.”

There was a moment of silence from the other end. Then, sounding puzzled, Joyce said, “What’s your interest in this? Who are you working for?”

“Myself. And a little girl named Cindy.”

There was another moment of silence, then she asked, “Where are you calling from?”

“I’m at the phone booth in Dunes.”

“I live a mile west of town. It’s a green frame house.”

“I’ll be right out.”

I hung up and stepped out of the booth as a blue pickup cruised by. I seemed to remember passing a green frame house outside of town. I got in the car and headed in that direction.

Finding the house was no trouble. It sat right beside the highway, behind a neat little yard that was surrounded by a chain-link fence. I pulled in the driveway.

Joyce McCormick met me at the front door. When I stepped up onto the front porch, I could tell that she was a tall woman, her eyes nearly on a level with mine. She was about thirty-five and wore her hair cut short. It was a pretty shade of brown. I got the feeling that her mouth was capable of a very nice smile, but right now it was set in a tight, stem line.

“You’re Mr. Markham?” she asked.

“That’s right.”

“Come in.”

I followed her into the house. She was wearing blue jeans and a man’s shirt and making them look good on her.

“Sit down.” She gestured at an overstuffed armchair. I took it while she sat on a small sofa. She went on, “Just what is it you’d like to know?”

“I guess you heard what John Wheeler did last night?”

“I know what he’s supposed to have done.”

“You don’t think he’s, capable of robbing his father-in-law and kidnapping his children?”

Her mouth became even more stern. “I suppose he’s capable of it. The evidence pretty well says that he did it. But I don’t think it’s his fault.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that whatever John did, he was driven to it.”

I sat forward as best I could in the soft chair and clasped my hands together in front of me. “Do you want to explain that?”

She sighed. “People never let John alone. They were always trying to force him into a mold of their own making. Some people just can’t stand that kind of treatment. Ralph Barrett did his absolute best to kill John’s spirit.”

“Right now I think he wouldn’t mind killing John.”

“That’s exactly what I mean. They infected John with their own violence.”

I wasn’t sure that I bought her theory, but at the moment that wasn’t important. I asked, “How did the two of you meet?”

“Before I answer any more of your questions, Mr. Markham, I want to know exactly what your involvement in this is.”

“I’m the one who found those two kids wandering around out on the highway.”

“And now you feel responsible, is that it? You want to straighten everything out?”

“You’re making me sound like a meddler.”

“Aren’t you?”

She had a point there. I considered for a moment, then said, “I just want to find Wheeler and bring him back here so that things can be cleared up. And Cindy wants me to find him.”

“What about Jackie? How does he feel about it?”

“He doesn’t seem to care one way or the other.”

Joyce stood up and stalked over to the window. “I’m not surprised. Elaine’s ruined him with her constant abuse. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to go over there and strangle that woman.”

“I heard that John was rough on them himself.”

“He wasn’t always that way... not at first. He adored those children. But Elaine and her father kept so much pressure on him, trying to make him into something he wasn’t, that he couldn’t stand it. He lashed out at whoever was near.” Her voice choked a little bit. “Sometimes that meant me, too. But I didn’t care.”

“You still haven’t told me how the two of you met.”

“I came here from San Francisco about a year ago. My husband had been killed in a car wreck, and I just didn’t want to stay there anymore. I sold our house and moved here. I wanted to get as far away from everything as I could.”

“You picked a good place for it.”

“I got a job at the store in Dunes, and I met John while I was working there. I’ve always been interested in art, and I saw that he was always carrying a sketch pad around with him. A friendship just seemed to develop naturally between us.”

“And it developed into more than just a friendship?”

“I’m not ashamed of it. I was a lot better for him than Elaine could ever hope to be.” She turned away from the window to face me. “I’m not going to apologize for what happened.”

“I’m not going to ask you to. Did the two of you ever talk about running away together?”

“We talked about it. I think John was just building his courage up to make the break. Then Elaine found out about us and told her father. He had some of his thugs rough John up and throw him out of the trailer. Elaine filed for a divorce.”

“Why didn’t the two of you just leave town then?”

“John was afraid to leave the children with Elaine. He was afraid she would really hurt them sometime. He rented a room over the drugstore so that he could be close by and keep an eye on them.”

“And then last night he finally got brave enough to go get them.”

Joyce nodded. “I wasn’t surprised when the sheriff came by and told me about it. I knew that John would strike back someday, if he stayed around here long enough.”

“And you don’t have any idea where he could be now?”

“John could be almost anywhere in the county, Mr. Markham. He knows this area as well or better than the natives, since he’s always out sketching the landscapes. With time and encouragement, he could become a fine artist.”

I stood up. “I suppose I’d better be getting on. Thank you for talking to me.”

“Was what I told you any help?”

“I’ve got a better picture of John and his situation now. It always helps to know as much as you can about a person you’re looking for.”

As I started for the door, she put a hand out as if to touch my arm, then stopped the motion in mid-air. She said, “Mr. Markham... If you do find John, what are you going to do with him? You wouldn’t take him to Ralph Barrett, would you?”

“If I find Wheeler, I’ll turn him over to Sheriff Cartwright. Barrett will have to get his revenge through the courts.”

“Ralph Barrett would like to kill him. You know that, don’t you?”

I nodded. “I know. And I don’t plan to be an accessory to murder.”

I thanked her again for her time and went back out to my car. She had given me a good picture of what John Wheeler was like, and I thought it over as I went back toward Dunes.

The Wheeler’s marriage seemed to be a case of a weak but idealistic man marrying a strong, dominating woman. Elaine and her father had tried to change Wheeler, but he had been too rigid to conform and too weak to stand up for himself. The strain of being in the middle like that had turned him into a man who hit his kids and looked for comfort to another woman. Lack of power in the marriage had led him to seek it wherever he could. I could have almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

Until I thought of Jackie and Cindy.

I turned over Joyce McCormick’s information in my head. It made sense, Wheeler knowing the surrounding countryside so well. I figure’d that he spent a great deal of time roaming around in it, looking for scenes to sketch. That would mean he knew all the back roads, maybe even better than Cartwright and his men. He could be holed up back in the hills where it would take an army to find him.

Something Cartwright had told me earlier popped into my head. According to Jackie’s story, something had happened to Wheeler’s car and he had stopped it to check under the hood. That was when the kids slipped away. That couldn’t have happened too far from where I found them, or they would have been a lot more tired than they were.

It was possible that Wheeler hadn’t been able to get the car going again. If he had had to abandon it and strike out on foot, it was possible that he was hiding not far from the road, waiting for night to fall again. It was too hot to do much walking in the daylight hours.

I drove on through Dunes and headed for the spot where I had found the kids. Once I passed it, it was only another mile or so to the old deserted gas station that I had barely noticed the night before. I slowed down as I approached it.

There was a road there, turning off to the north, toward the foothills. It hadn’t registered on my consciousness the night before, and I hadn’t been able to pull it out of my subconscious until now. I didn’t know whether Sheriff Cartwright had already checked it out or not, but I thought. It was worth a try.

It was more of a trail than a road, two dim tire tracks that led off through the mesquite and cactus. I had to watch out for rocks, but other than that, it wasn’t too hard to negotiate.

Once, not long after I had turned off the highway, I caught a glimpse of movement in the rearview mirror, a flash of blue, but when I looked again, I couldn’t see anything for the dust that was billowing up behind me. Ah uneasy feeling wormed its way up my backbone.

The road twisted up the edge of the hills, out of sight of the highway now. The dust was coming into the car and getting into my eyes and nose, and I was rubbing at my eyes with one hand and steering with the other when the trail turned sharply around a hillock.

I hit the brakes and stared.

There was a car sitting there with its hood up, an old Chevrolet that was covered with dust, just like my Ford was now. I brought my car to a stop behind it.

I got out slowly, looking around to see if anybody was in sight. The whole area seemed to be deserted for miles around.

Then I heard the growling of an engine somewhere behind me.

Someone had followed me out here. I didn’t know why, but I knew the reason probably wasn’t anything good. I hurried over to the other car. I wanted to check it out quickly and get moving again.

I glanced in arid saw the papers and documents scattered on the front seat. Reaching in through the open window, I picked some of them up and saw that they were the stocks and bonds that Ralph Barrett had mentioned. This was Wheeler’s car, all right, there was no doubt about that.

I took another step toward the front of the car. That’s when I saw the foot.

I moved forward slowly. The foot didn’t move. As I stepped around to the front of the car, flies rose in a cloud.

The man was sprawled on the sand in front of the car. His blue eyes were glazed and staring. His hands still clutched at his chest where the dark stain had spread on his sports shirt.

I walked around the body and then saw the gun lying in the sand on the other side of the car. I wasn’t going to touch it. Cartwright could do that.

I was sure that this was John Wheeler. I could see the resemblance, especially to Jackie. He was lying on his side, and I suddenly noticed a few inches of a leatherbound book sticking out of his pocket.

Something made me reach out and pull it gently from his pocket. Blood had stained one corner of it. I opened it and flipped through the pages hurriedly. It seemed to be a record of shipments of some kind. I wondered if the handwriting was Ralph Barrett’s.

There seemed to be something wrong with the shipments listed. They all originated at the border and went to various cities, but there was no explanation of what was being shipped. I checked the dates. They ranged all through the year, so it couldn’t be produce. That wasn’t an agricultural area, anyway. Nor was it an industrial one.

I ran out of time to think about it. The sound of the vehicle that had followed me was louder now. I stood up just as it rounded the bend.

The sight of the blue pickup didn’t surprise me. Now that I thought about it, I remembered seeing it several times since I had visited Ralph Barrett’s trucking yard. I should have picked it up sooner, but I hadn’t been expecting a tail.

It came to a stop and two men got out. They were two of the ones that Barrett had been talking to as I left the trucking yard. They wore jeans and tee shirts, and their bare arms bulged with muscle. Long-billed caps shaded their faces from the brilliant sun.

They stopped about ten yards away from me. The one on the left said, “Say, boy, looks like you found what you was huntin’.”

“Mighty nice of you,” the other one said, “ ’cause we was huntin’ the same thing.”

“Let’s just gather all this stuff up and go see Mr. Barrett, all right, boy?”

They took a step closer. I knew that I could have taken either one of them on equal terms, but there would be nothing equal about this fight. Barrett wanted what Wheeler had taken from him, and these men would stop at nothing to get what Barrett wanted.

The only thing I had going for me was the gun lying in the sand. They couldn’t have known it was there, and if was out of their sight. I had to move before they got any closer.

Holding the book tightly in my left hand, I launched myself into a dive over Wheeler’s body. The men yelled and split up, coming around both sides of the old Chevy.

I snatched up the gun and rolled across the sand, coming up in a crouch as the first man rounded the front of the car. I brought the gun up and his eyes widened, but he didn’t slow down.

I wished I had had time to make sure the barrel wasn’t plugged with sand. I knew what could happen if it was.

But sometimes you have to take a chance. I pulled the trigger.

The gun cracked and the heavy caliber slug plowed into the man’s shoulder. He stopped like he had run into a wall and then flipped backwards. His scream cut through the quiet desert air.

The other man stopped in his tracks as I swung the gun toward him. He gulped and cried, “Wait a minute! Don’t shoot! None of this was my idea. I just work for Barrett. He’s the one told us to follow you!”

“And he told you to recover everything that Wheeler had taken from the office, too, didn’t he?” I snapped.

“That’s what he said. He told us to follow you, and if you found Wheeler, we was to bring the two of you straight back to him. Honest, we didn’t know Wheeler was dead!”

I believed him. I was beginning to get an inkling now of what was really behind Barrett’s rage, and it wasn’t the kids.

I motioned with the gun. “Get over to the pickup. I want you to take that distributor and rotor of. Now!”

I watched him with one eye and checked out the other man at the same time. He had passed out from the shock of being shot, but it looked like the bullet had passed through cleanly. The bleeding was already beginning to slow down.

When the second man had the truck disabled, I had him do the same thing to Wheeler’s car. Then I said, “You’d better drag your friend over into the shade. You’re going to have to wait out here for awhile.”

“You’re not goin’ to leave us here?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll let the sheriff know where you are. It won’t be long before he’s out here.”

He was pulling the wounded man into the shade cast by the pickup as I started back down the trail. The little book was in my pocket, and the gun was on the seat beside me.

I bounced down the rough road, taking it faster than my shock absorbers liked, but I was in a hurry. I wanted to get to Cartwright with this as fast as I could.

When I got back to Dunes, I stopped at the one phone booth and called the sheriff’s office. Cartwright wasn’t in, but I told the dispatcher who I was and asked that Cartwright meet me at the Wheeler trailer as soon as he could.

Jackie and Cindy were playing in the little yard when I drove up. They each had a toy car, and they were making highways in the sand. Jackie was using his left hand, as his right seemed to be sore. It was still swollen.

They both smiled at me as I walked over to them. Cindy said, “Jackie was telling me about the Man in the Moon. Do you want to hear?”

I knelt beside them and dug in the sand with a finger. It had been a hell of a long time since I had done that. I said, “Sure. Go ahead, Jackie.”

“Well...” He concentrated, making sure that he was telling it the way he wanted to. “Daddy always said that the Man in the Moon was bad and that he came to take little boys and girls away when they acted bad. I think he was trying to scare us, so that we would behave.

“But it doesn’t seem fair that the Man in the Moon only takes little boys and girls. I think he should take bad grownups, too. Doesn’t that seem right, Mr. Markham?”

“Sounds right to me, Jackie. Was your daddy a bad grownup?”

“He was sometimes. He didn’t use to be, but he started getting mad a lot. He used to take care of us when Mama hit us, but then he started hitting us, too.”

I pointed at the burn on his hand. “Did your mother do that?”

He nodded, but he wouldn’t look at me now. He was too ashamed.

“The sheriff is coming over here soon, Jackie, and when he gets here, I want you to tell him about how your mother hurts you. Okay?”

Before he could answer, Elaine Wheeler screeched from the door of the trailer, “You bastard! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She rushed down the stairs. “Get away from my kids! You’re trying to turn them against me, that’s what you’re doing! Just like John did!”

I stood up and she aimed a slap at my face. I caught her wrist and clamped down on it, maybe harder than I had intended to. She gasped.

“You leave my mother alone!”

Jackie’s little fist pounded against my leg. Cindy began to cry. I said, “Damn,” and dropped Elaine Wheeler’s wrist.

The sound of a car stopping made me turn. Cartwright was getting out, a tired look on his face. Right behind him was Ralph Barrett, scowling as usual.

“I was over at Barrett’s when the call came in that you wanted to see me, Markham,” Cartwright said. “What’s it about? Have you found Wheeler?”

I jerked my head toward the kids. “Let’s take a walk. Why don’t you come, too, Barrett?”

The three of us went out into the road. I kept my voice as low as I said, “I found Wheeler, all right, Sheriff, but he’s dead.”

Cartwright caught his exclamation in time, but Barrett blurted loudly, “Dead?”

Elaine’s head jerked up. I couldn’t read the expression on her face. It could have been either joy or grief.

“There’s a trail that turns off of the highway at that old gas station,” I went on. “Wheeler’s body is with the car, a couple of miles up that road.”

Cartwright rubbed his jaw. “I’d forgotten all about that old trail. Nobody ever uses it anymore. It just winds up into the hills and then peters out. What happened to Wheeler?”

“He was shot. I’ve got the gun that probably did it in my car. I’m no expert, but it looks like he’s been dead since last night.”

“I’ll get right up there.”

“Something else, Sheriff. There’s two of Barrett’s men up there, too.”

“What are you talking about, Markham?” Barrett blustered.

I swung to face him. “You had them follow me, Barrett, in case I found Wheeler. You were hoping that I would. You wanted somebody besides the sheriff to find him first, so that you’d have a chance to get this back.” I pulled the little book from my pocket.

Barrett was surprised and didn’t think. He made a grab for it. I jerked it back and then handed it to the sheriff. “I’d be willing to bet that if you took this book and questioned Barrett’s men about those shipments, you’d find somebody willing to admit that Barrett’s been hauling illegal aliens. That book is his record of that little sideline.”

“You’re crazy!” Barrett snapped. “Next thing, you’ll be saying that I killed Wheeler.”

“No, I don’t think you did,” I said, hating to admit it. “If you had, you would have taken that book with you and then left the body for Cartwright to find eventually.”

Cartwright was flipping through the book. “I don’t see where this is proof of anything, Markham.”

“What else would Barrett be hauling from the border year ’round? And if it wasn’t something illegal, why didn’t he keep a record of it with his regular paperwork? I think Wheeler found out about it and took the book to blackmail his father-in-law.”

Barrett’s fists doubled up and he took a step toward me. “You dirty liar! I’ll—”

“You’ll shut up and stand still, Ralph,” Cartwright snapped. “We’ll get this all straightened out, don’t worry. If you’re telling the truth, I’m sure you won’t mind me asking your boys some questions.”

Barrett paled. He still wasn’t thinking. He lunged for the book in Cartwright’s hand. The sheriff moved it out of the way, put his other hand in Barrett’s chest, and shoved him back. “Now that wasn’t a smart thing to do, Ralph, not at all. Makes me think Markham might be on to something. Why don’t you go sit in the car until I’m through here?”

I could see defeat on Barrett’s face now. He took a deep, shuddery breath and trudged slowly back to the sheriff’s car.

As Cartwright turned back to me, I said, “I had to wound one of Barrett’s boys. I think by the time you get out there, they’ll be only too happy to spill all of it to you.”

Cartwright frowned. “I’ve known Ralph Barrett for a long time, Markham, and I can’t help but think you may be right about him. I’d appreciate it if you would stay around until we find out for sure, though.”

“I didn’t plan on going anywhere.”

Cartwright wiped away the sweat that was trickling into his eyes. I followed his gaze and saw Elaine Wheeler watching us intently, with Jackie and Cindy peeking around from behind her.

“This leaves us with even more of a problem, Markham. If Barrett or his men didn’t kill Wheeler, who did?”

I had been hoping that he wouldn’t ask that, but I would have been surprised if he hadn’t. I called, “Would you come over here, Jackie?”

Under his breath, Cartwright said, “Oh, now, hell, Markham...”

Jackie walked up to us slowly. I said, “You were telling me about the Man in the Moon, Jackie. Why don’t you tell the sheriff?”

He swallowed and said, “I just said that the Man in the Moon should take bad people away, even if they’re grownups.”

“Was your daddy bad last night?”

“He scared us. He said we would never see Mama again. I didn’t want to go with him, and neither did Cindy. He said he would hit us if we didn’t behave, and then leave us there for the Man in the Moon.”

“Did he have a gun?”

Jackie nodded solemnly. “He showed it to us. He said he might even shoot us if we were bad and save the Man in the Moon the trouble.”

Cartwright said softly, “Oh, Lord.”

Elaine Wheeler had come closer, close enough to hear, and now she said, “Don’t listen to him, Sheriff. Don’t listen to him!”

“What happened when the car broke down, Jackie?” I asked.

“Daddy got out to see about it. I told Cindy we were going to run away from him. She was afraid. But Daddy had left the gun on the seat. I took it to scare him. I didn’t want him to get us...”

We all waited.

“And then... and then... the Man in the Moon came. He got Daddy. That’s what happened. The Man in the Moon did it.”

Cartwright knelt beside him. “You did the right thing to tell us about it, Jackie. Now why don’t you come for a ride with your mother and your grandfather and me?”

“Can Cindy come too?”

“I think she’d better stay here.”

Elaine Wheeler wailed, “Oh, my God!”

I met Cartwright’s eyes. “I can stay here with the little girl for a while.”

He nodded. “I’ll send somebody right away. Then you come on in to the office.”

I walked over to Cindy while Cartwright was bundling Elaine Wheeler and Jackie into the car. Then he got the gun out of my Ford and wrapped it up so that Jackie couldn’t see it. I was glad of that.

Cindy asked, “Where’s Jackie and Mama going?”

“They’re just going for a ride.”

“Can I go too?”

I picked her up, struck by the lightness of her, and then watched Cartwright’s car disappearing into the dust. “I don’t think so,” I said, “but you don’t mind staying here with me for a while, do you?”

She shook her head. “I like you, Mr. Markham. You won’t let the Man in the Moon get me, Will you?”

It wouldn’t do any good to tell her that he gets nearly all of us at one time or another.

“No, Cindy. I won’t let him get you.”