2 Dog River Blues by Mike Jastrzebski

pleasant, fruity scent of burning apple wood filled the cabin as the logs caught and the cabin warmed almost instantly. I topped off my cup and leaned toward Roy. “So he must have been trouble before he hurt his leg?”
    Roy nodded. “When he was thirteen he caught himself a baby alligator. Had that gator for about three years I guess. Raised him like a pet. Small dogs and cats began to disappear around the area. Everyone around here sort of knew it was Fish, trapping them and feeding them to the gator, but no one ever caught him.”
    “That’s terrible,” Jessica said.
    Uncle Roy looked at her and twisted the hair on his beard. “Maybe, maybe not.” He held up his hand before Jessica could speak again. “I’m not condoning it. But maybe folks ought to keep a better eye on their pets, not let them roam around like they do. Where was I now, oh yeah, the gator.
    “Seems that one day when he was feeding that gator it up and lunged at him. There wasn’t any harm done, but Fish went stomping off into the house, got his daddy’s twelve gauge down off the wall and shot the critter dead.
    “Not too long after that he got involved in football. I think maybe he took out all his aggressions on the other players. Then he messed up his knee and came back home meaner than ever. Heard some bad things about him, but so far he’s stayed a step ahead of the cops. What’s Fish got to do with getting Daddy’s book back?”
    I waved my hand toward my cousin. “Go ahead, Jessica.”
    “We think Fish might have something to do with stealing the manuscript. The other night Wes was attacked on the docks where he keeps his boat. Daddy was there and he thought it might be Fish. Then tonight we tracked him down to try talking to him. Fish attacked the both of us.” Jessica tugged at a stained area of her shirt to accentuate her point.
    “I was thinking I might have to go Fishing,” I added. “Track the asshole down and confront him on my terms. Thought you might like to come along as backup.”
    Roy pushed himself away from the table. “Might be fun. But before we go any further do you even know what you’re looking for, Wes?”
    “I know what an illuminated manuscript is, but I can’t say I’ve ever seen one.”
    “Wait here,” Roy ordered, then he quick-stepped across the cabin to the desk. He opened the bottom drawer, dug around for a minute, then pulled out a file folder and brought it back to the table. He opened it, drew out a thin stack of photographs and tossed them onto the table.

 
    Chapter 10

    The photos spread apart as they slid across the table, giving me a view of half-a-dozen ornate pages.
    Jessica reached across the table and placed a finger on one. “That’s my favorite.”
    It was a masterfully painted picture of the nativity with Mary dressed in a long blue robe. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders and an illuminated gold halo surrounded her head. The brown, green and red colors were as vivid as if they had been painted yesterday. The margins were decorated with hundreds of flowers and birds.
    The other pages were text. Two of the pages began with large decorated letters. The calligraphy was precise and had I not known better could have been printed instead of drawn. Like the portrait page, the margins were wide and filled with flowers, birds and small animals. One page showed four humans among the flowers. They looked like little hobbits, each wearing a different color robe.
    I looked up. “Any idea what it’s worth?”
    Roy sat back down. “I was wondering the same thing. When Daddy died I took these pictures and sent them to an antiquarian book dealer who once answered some questions for me on rare books for a novel I was working on. Guy by the name of Chet Winters.
    He called me back within a day. Said it was French, probably twelfth century. I could practically hear him drooling. He demanded to know where I got the book. Wouldn’t tell me what he thought it was worth at first, but Winters