Missed Lunch

David Carmack was the perfect model of a politician. Smooth as glass in speech and decorum, he could hold any room’s attention, in spite of an ever-increasing paunch and receding hairline. He had come to Mountain Junction four years earlier with his wife Nancy and their five sons. Within months he had opened a lumber mill and a hotel, establishing himself as a force in the town. The lumber mill had been so successful that people from as far away as Randsburg on the other side of the mountain came to him for lumber rather then buy from their own dealers. The hotel had been popular as well, but had catered to the railroad workers. Unlike the posh establishment it had become under Julie’s care, the Junction Palace (as it was then known) had offered up two selections: Arizona strawberries (red beans), and breakfast: Chili beans and Whiskey. To be sure, it had modernized the menu in its later days to include lunch and dinner, adding biscuits to the food list.

Carmack had thought himself quite secure and prosperous. He had been in the beginning, but his proclivity for certain entertainments soon began to wear at his bank accounts. David was fond of gambling and women. Once he “discovered” the Maison de Champagene, he began to frequent the establishment with quiet regularity. It was there that he had met Jermond, who quietly ran a high roller gambling room in a secluded corner suite on the top floor. It was not long before David’s losses at the poker table began to affect his prosperity. This fact did not stop him from gambling; Jermond had been most accommodating in offering credit. Once the losses became more numerous, however, the credit stopped abruptly. Unable to pay off his debt, David had no choice but to sell half of his lumber business to André, who had promised to be a silent partner. André, while quiet about the arrangement to the town, was never silent with David. He was as involved with the lumber mill as he was with the Maison; a fact David resented. To make matters worse, Julie had arrived a few months later, and had bought not only his hotel, but also the lumber for the expansion. Had she arrived earlier, Jermond’s partnership would not have been needed.

David stood at the window inside André’s office watching the exchange between the two with narrowed eyes. As he watched the tall man hold her little horse’s reigns like a smitten schoolboy, his teeth bit down on his cigar, raising it up in his mouth like a spear. His eyes wandered over Julie in a combination of lust and disgust. As he felt himself tighten, he became angry. “Didn’t even bother to put her hair up,” he muttered. He resented Julie for more than her bad timing. She had turned out to be as good in business as any man, and that had irked David to no end. What’s more, she had known lumber. When he had tried to steer her towards the more expensive woods, she had simply ignored his suggestions and sauntered over to the wood she preferred. He had not been able to dissuade her, nor was he able to charm her into another selection. David did not like woman who did not fall for his flattery. Julie did not know it, but David disliked her almost as much as he did Jermond. Perhaps more. André had not insulted his manhood.

As he stood by the window and watched her smile and obviously flirt with that damned Frenchman, he thought about the discussion earlier in the morning at the barbershop. He did not like what he was seeing develop, and as he stood there watching, he knew that somehow it would have to be stopped. His biggest problem was his wife Nancy. She considered Julie her best friend, and had not stopped talking about the possible romance developing since the previous evening. He had finally stopped her incessant gushing the only way he knew how: by keeping her busy in their bed. Although this was a pleasant enough diversion, he knew it would not work forever. He was going to have to do something and soon, and he would have to keep himself separate from the outcome. Prudence was needed both for his marital happiness and his political career.

André entered his office with a light step and a broad smile. The smile quickly faded as soon as he was in the door. Near the window stood Carmack, full of himself as usual, and stinking up the tasteful office with his cigar. In the brown leather chair opposite his huge oak desk, lounged Carmack’s son Steven with his feet up on the edge and thumbing his way through one of André’s prized leather bound books. This sight was too much. Quietly he crossed the European carpet and silently pushed the gangly boys feet off the desk. Steven’s feet hit the floor with a thump. They stared at each other for a few seconds, before the youth got up off the chair and replaced the book carelessly on the shelf. He turned to glower at the irritated Frenchman again, opening his mouth as if to say something. The look from the hard green eyes stopped him from saying anything, and he quickly crossed the room to his father’s side. Carmack whispered something to his son, and Steven looked again at André, nodded to his father, and left the office.

“You really should teach that boy some manners,” André said as he put the book back in its rightful place, “and how to put things back where he finds them.”

David ignored both remarks, intent on getting the meeting over as soon as possible. “I have to get back to the lumber yard. Can we just get this over with?”

“Yes. Sit.” André sat down, and immediately scanned the ledgers. Within seconds, he spoke again. “Very nice. Where’s the rest of it?”

David’s cigar glowed red as he drew in his breath. Exhaling, he never missed a beat. “That’s it, right down to the last nickel.”

André was used to animosity from David. He expected it. But he also knew that David had been up to some new tricks. André missed nothing; for years he had perfected his ability to find things out, either from listening, or gentle nudges in conversation. It also helped that most tongues loosened with a few drinks. The very nature of his businesses allowed him to learn the most intimate of details. This was not unlike Julie’s use of the ladies calls to glean information. It was simply not as civilized.

Obviously Carmack was not going to admit to what André already knew — that he had been padding the books. Silently, he wondered what he wanted to accomplish besides keeping Carmack from padding the books to keep his own hands from the profits. Rising from his chair he looked at the smarmy man before him, contemplating just how to handle him. Carmack’s defiance was evident; it was not going to be an easy task. He did not want to lay all his cards on the table right away; that would only put the slick politician on his guard. André didn’t like the direct approach anyway. It was much more fun to wheedle information out of people.

André walked to the liquor cabinet and picked up the whiskey decanter. Looking at the beautiful glass, he considered offering David a drink. He quickly decided against that idea as he poured himself a drink; plying David with spirits wouldn't work, he was in too much of a mood for spirits to be effective. It would be a waste of good liquor, and accomplish nothing.

David heard the whiskey decanter open behind him. Fully expecting Jermond to offer him a drink, he relaxed, believing that André was going to offer him whiskey in an attempt to get him to tell him the truth. He knew that would not work. He had been drinking whiskey far too long for that to have any effect, and he was too mad for it to go to his head anyway. He put his hand to the cigar, drawing a long smoke and smirked as he exhaled. Jermond was barking up the wrong tree, he thought to himself. He was surprised, however, when Jermond simply lounged against the desk in front of his chair, crossed his legs and took a drink from his own glass. He was equally surprised when he was not offered a glass of his own.

André took in everything from Carmack. He saw the smug smile disappear from his face, and knew that keeping this man off balance was the best strategy. Not only that, watching him try not to squirm was a scheme to good to pass up. “I notice that the lumber for the Mendoza homestead is far less then what I would have expected him to pay.”

“He didn’t need as much as he thought.”

“Funny, I could have sworn I saw enough lumber in his wagons for a barn as well as a home,” André said taking another drink. “In fact, I distinctly remember being told at the Can Can, that he was excited that the barn could be bigger then he first anticipated.”

Carmack shifted in his chair, finally taking the cigar out of his mouth. “Mendoza decided against the barn.”

The shift did not escape the notice of André and he got up from the desk, silently pleased. “David, I rode by the Mendoza place this morning. The house is finished, and there was enough lumber piled outside for a barn.” As he crossed to the window, he quietly added over his shoulder, “I looked at the lumber and it’s not very good. One good Santa Ana wind, and the sides will snap like twigs.”

At this revelation, Carmack turned the color of a ripe plumb. Turning toward the window, he glared at André. “He paid for the lumber Jermond. Lumber he chose for himself.”

“At your urgings, I have no doubt. But quality issues aside, Carmack,” he said as he turned a cold stare on David, “where is the money he paid for his barn?”

“Its right there!” Carmack insisted, rising from his chair.

Andre strode over to the desk and tossed the ledger at David. “That total would barely pay for a house, let alone a barn. Even if he bought the least expensive lumber in your yard, it would still be more then the total you have here! Andre walked around the desk and stood towering over the stiff backed politician. “Now suppose you come back tomorrow, with the ledger reflecting the correct total, and the bank account statement to back it up? Or I could,” he added with derision, leaning over the desk, and narrowing his eyes, “have my own man come to your office every day, making every entry, and making sure that every transaction was properly documented.”

David could not contain him self, he had finally hit the breaking point. The desire to shoot André Jermond was so strong that his fingers itched. “You will not bring in your own man! You were supposed to be a silent partner, and I would appreciate it Sir, if you would stay silent!”

“I will not stay silent, Carmack, while my investment gets pilfered away due to irresponsible accounting practices! I expect to see the correct totals and the corresponding bank account statements tomorrow,” André hissed, stressing the plural, “or my man comes in bright and early Wednesday morning.”

David was seething, his cigar burning bright as he inhaled and tried not to show his fury. He moved around the desk and stared at the Frenchman with a look of indignation. “You know that this lumber business was to be left to my sons so that they would be taken care of! If you keep taking from the business, you will kill the goose that lays the golden eggs! Then there will be no business left!"

André, while surprised at the man's blatant use of his sons, stood at the desk, his face impassive. “You should have thought of that, Sir, before you lost your shirt at the poker table. It is not I who appears to be taking more than honest profit.”

David’s face went white with rage. "Jermond, you swindled me to get your hands on my business! I will not stand idly by while you whittle the business away by sticking your fingers into the till as you see fit!”

André knew this argument would come up, it always did. He brushed past David, smiling in self-satisfaction. He knew he had the politician in line again. “I did not need to swindle you sir. You're simply bad at cards. You ... bluff badly.”

David stomped toward the door, the smoke from his cigar wafting in a thick ribbon behind him. At the door, he stopped and glared back at André. “This is not over, Jermond, not by a long shot.” Suddenly, inspiration hit him again, and he strode over to where André stood. "Jermond, we may be partners in this venture, but be forewarned. I am the one running this business. I am the one who knows the mill. I am the one knows how to sell the product. I am the one who knows how to repair the mill, keep it running, and,” he added pointedly, “I am the one who knows the customers. You could never run this business without me!”

André’s grin was condescending as he bore down on Carmack. He finally had the edge he needed. “And I am the one with the money that allows you to do all that,” he hissed as he backed David toward the door. “I am the one who knows the various business contacts you depend on for your largest contracts, and ….” David found himself backing up to avoid being stepped on. “I am the one you come to when you can't pay the bills.” David’s back hit the front door; he was trapped. “You, sir, could not keep your business without me.”

David was sweating, the cigar limp between his fingers. As he looked at the calm face of his adversary, years of being the smooth politician suddenly brought another inspiration to him, one he thought would give him both the last word, and quite possibly put a wedge in the burgeoning relationship with that Belsom woman. “If you want your 'contacts' to remain loyal to you, Jermond, I suggest that you avoid that piece in the buckskins who calls herself a lady."

André was caught off guard by this remark, and his face went red. "That lady is more man then you will ever be!" he jeered as he ripped the door open. “Good day, Sir!”

The door slammed hard enough for people on the street to look toward the stately building in surprise. They watched as David stomped down the street toward the Barbershop. Inside the office, André went back to the whiskey decanter and poured him self another drink. The remark about Julie bothered him, and he was glad that Carmack had not seen how much. He was not, however, worried about his contacts; they could be placated easily enough with a few dollars. He hated David calling her a “piece.” He had thoroughly enjoyed the past evening and morning with her. The fact she could hold her own not only in business, but with him, was extremely appealing. Her unconventional manner was something he found to be most fascinating, and her quick wittedness was equal to his own. She was a perfect foil for him, but she also had a level of legitimacy within the community that he did not have. That was as alluring to him as her spirit.

André emerged from the office minutes later, taking off in the opposite direction from Carmack on Seizemain. The ease and peaceful look that had been on his face an hour earlier had completely disappeared; replaced once again by a stone expression that revealed nothing. He passed by the Inn at a trot, glancing for a moment at the large bay windows of the facade. Julie emerged from the front door, holding a small wicker hamper, dressed in a green skirt and simple white blouse. She was back to being the businesswoman. André smiled at her as he remembered the freedom he had experienced earlier in the morning, but the smile lasted for only a few seconds. As he recalled Carmack’s parting remark, he frowned. He turned away from the porch, and continued toward the Viscosité Buvette.

Julie had changed into her work clothes, and knowing that André had missed his lunch was preparing to walk to his office and deliver the promised meal. She smiled to herself, as she thought of the taunts she could give him over beating “the best mount in the valley.” When she saw him from the porch of the Inn, she had smiled at him. She was surprised when he seemed to lose his smile when he saw her with her hair up, looking like any other woman. After he turned away from her and rode quickly toward the other end of the street, she looked down at the hamper in disgust. When the widow Grimsbe and her sister Mackenzie walked out of the hotel following a good gossip with some of the other ladies in the town, she offered them the hamper, which they took with surprised (but delighted) faces. As she went back inside, she never heard their excited clucking, as they walked quickly to their green buggy. They had seen the exchange between the couple from the window. Now all they needed was someone they could relate the story too and Grimsbe knew just the person to tell.

Chapter 1 ... André
Chapter 2 ... Julie
Chapter 3 ... Clyde
Chapter 4 ... The Welcoming Party
Chapter 5 ... Sunrise
Chapter 6 ... Tabletop
Chapter 7 ... The Race
*Chapter 8 ... Missed Lunch
Chapter 9 ... Something To Chew On
Chapter 10 .. Back to Business
Chapter 11 .. House Work
Chapter 12 .. Idyllicus Interruptus
Chapter 13 .. House Repair
Chapter 14 .. Day’s End
Chapter 15 .. TBA
Chapter 16 .. TBA
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