Page 36 of Grit
“Can I help you?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m looking for Stu Hagman.”
Someone else was in the trailer. Leigh glanced over her shoulder, and a lanky, weathered man came to the door. He wiped a handlebar mustache and stuffed the napkin in his jeans pocket.
“I’m Stu Hagman. C’n I help you?”
“I’m sorry if I interrupted your lunch. I’m Cary Nakamura. Friend of Melissa’s from down the road.”
Stu nodded. “I’ve heard your name. You got the orange groves next door. There a problem with the fencing I need to know about?”
“Fences are fine. Can we…?” Cary nodded toward the shade structure behind the barn with a picnic table underneath it.
Stu and Leigh exchanged looks. Leigh looked nervous. Stu looked solemn.
“Sure.” He nodded toward the picnic table. “You want something to drink?”
“I’m okay. Thanks.”
They walked to the shaded area and sat.
Cary braced his elbows on the table. “I’ve been friends with Melissa a long time. Our families are close.”
“Miz Rhodes is a good woman.”
“Yes, she is. So is her mother.”
Stu cleared his throat. “Can I ask what you’re doing here, Mr. Nakamura? Did Miz Rhodes—?”
“Melissa has done nothing but sing your praises,” Cary said. “She thinks you’re a good worker. Likes how you ride and likes the work you’re doing with your dog. Says you’re a good cattleman.”
“I’ve been doing it for a long time.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“Yeah, you have.” Cary drummed his fingers on the table. “But not for the past ten years or so.”
Stu’s face was frozen.
“Did you tell her?”
The older man’s face gave nothing away.
Cary persisted. “Did you tell her you’ve spent time in prison?”
“I’ve been on probation five years,” Stu said quietly.
“Yeah, and before that you were in prison in Oklahoma.” Cary drilled his eyes into Stu’s. “And you were an addict.”
Stu was silent a long time. Then he sighed deeply and leaned his elbows on the table, looking away from Cary. “Aman addict, Mr. Nakamura. Once an addict—”
“Always an addict. Trust me, I know. I got some guys working for me who’ve had their own issues.” Cary waited for the man to look back at him. “I’m not judging you, Mr. Hagman. I admit, I was worried. And when I first started reading the report, I was pretty damn mad to think you’d kept that from Melissa. But I kept reading, and from what I can tell, you’re not a violent guy except when you’re using.”
The man’s face was fixed in a stern expression. “They charged me with assault, but it was a bar fight. I was drunk. I never intended for it to go that far.”
“You know what?” Cary leaned on the table. “I understand that. And from what I can find, you’ve walked the straight and narrow since you got out. Your wife stuck by you. Your friends didn’t abandon you. That says a lot.”
“I’m training dogs again.”
“Dogs are good judges of character, though Abby might tell you goats are better.”
