The backyard entered her thoughts, and she bolted through the house to look out the window in the rear door. A few casually dressed men walked the perimeter of the six-foot chain-link fence, from inside of which the collie and the sheltie barked. The dachshund wagged his tail and ran in circles.
Lisa ordered her dogs to stay while she opened the door and called to the others. “Brigette! Monty! Aggie! Come in!” She made kissing noises, and the three dogs darted inside. She promptly shut the door and locked it. She wasn’t about to open a door again without a good reason.
The visiting pets found the food she’d put out for Joey and Piper, and a growling match ensued until she got out more bowls. The crunching intensified. Oh, dear. Poop. Poop was a good reason to open the door, but she wouldn’t think about that until the time came.
Her phone rang again. She considered taking it off the hook, but something drove her to pick it up and listen.
“Lisa? Lisa, this is Emily Stanton. I’ve been involved in the case of finding the owner of the mine.”
Lisa remembered seeing the woman introduced on the news.
“I’m right outside your front door. I promise to respect your privacy. I’d like to do whatever I can to help you. We need to talk, and there are some legal matters that need your attention. Can we talk? Please?”
“I’m not talking to any reporters.”
“I’m not asking you to. I’m asking for a few minutes of your time to go over this situation. Just the two of us.”
Lisa didn’t say anything.
“Tell you what—I’ll call the mayor right now. He’ll contact the sheriff and have the newspeople removed. Does that show my good faith?”
“You could do that?”
“I’ll do it right now.”
Ten minutes later Lisa saw half a dozen sheriff’s vehicles pull up alongside the other cars on the street. Officers spoke to reporters and ushered them away from Lisa’s yard.
Lisa craned to see the woman standing near the front door. She moved to the foyer and called, “Emily?”
“I’m still here.”
Lisa opened the door six inches to peer out. A young woman with straight, shoulder-length brown hair and green eyes gazed back at her. Lisa opened the door and Emily slipped in as a camera whirred.
Lisa closed the door and locked it.
Five dogs surrounded Emily, and her eyebrows rose in surprise. “Oh, my. You’re a dog lover.”
“Yes. But they’re not all mine. I pet sit.”
“I think I heard that somewhere. Your business is called Puppy Love?”
She nodded. “It seemed like I was always taking care of someone’s pet when I was in high school. It just sort of turned into my livelihood.”
“So, you bring pets home with you?”
“Only by special arrangement. Normally I go to their homes. I walk dogs during the day when their owners are at work, or I go a couple times a day when people are on vacation.”
They glanced at each other in the awkward way people who don’t know each other do.
“I work for Vaughn Associates,” Emily said. “At least, I did until just a little while ago when my boss proposed to me on television.”
“I must have been choking during that part. Congratulations.”
“Thank you. Anyway, we’re a private investigation firm hired to track the gold-mine heir.” She gestured toward Lisa as she corrected, “Or heiress.”
Lisa gave her a weak smile. “I don’t want a gold mine.”
Lisa noticed Emily’s glance at the hallway slide to the living room. So what if her house looked as though it had been furnished and decorated fifty years ago? It had. She liked it this way.
“No, really, I like my house and everything just the way it is.”
“We’re talking a lot of money here,” Emily said. “I don’t want to tell you what to do, but…lives could change. We’re talking about the economy of Thunder Canyon. About not only how your life can be enriched but what you could do with the profits. Think about it, Lisa. Haven’t you thought of things you would do if you had money? I have. I’d be able to pay for my younger sister to finish college. And I’ve always thought I’d start a scholarship for young women. Isn’t there something you’ve always dreamed you could do if you had the resources?”
Lisa shrugged. “The humane societies are under-funded and understaffed. I’d build an animal shelter. A no-kill facility where pets could live if no one adopted them.”
Emily smiled. “You can do that now.”
“Are you sure this is all…legal? This is for real?”
“It’s for real. You own the Queen of Hearts. Caleb Douglas’s experts have assessed a substantial vein. Because of all the gold diggers swarming the area, the Douglases arranged security some time ago. You’ll be responsible for taking that over and making arrangements for how you want to proceed with the mining.”
Just the thought made Lisa feel panicked. “I don’t know anything about mining.”
“There are people to help you. I suggest you hire a lawyer first thing. Someone with your best interests at heart, someone you trust. Then a financial manager.”
Lisa passed a shaking hand over her eyes. “It’s too much to think about.”
Emily leaned over the back of the sofa to peer out between the lace curtains on the window. “The only car left out front on this side is my rental. The mayor has ordered the press to stay off your property and on the other side of the street. I’ll take you to Town Hall, and you can file a restraining order against the press. Then I’ll stay with you while you sign the deed papers. Okay?”
Lisa didn’t know that she had much choice. People were not going to leave her alone until this was taken care of and the news blew over. “I’ll put the dogs in their kennels.”
Emily nodded.
The afternoon passed in a blur of meetings and legal talk. Lisa was placed in touch with the Montana Mining Association, several environmental agencies, The Office of Historical Preservation and the Bureau of Land Management. The operational and engineering issues would have to be decided, and she hadn’t a clue what to do. Head spinning, Lisa just wished she could evade all the publicity and trouble.
She took Emily’s advice and hired a lawyer. A woman Emily recommended. Bernadine Albright was more than willing to clear her afternoon schedule to meet with Lisa. Holding the press at bay, Emily drove Lisa to the lawyer’s office.
Complete strangers were excited and animated, congratulating her and bringing her soft drinks and cups of coffee. The inheritance and the experience seemed unreal. Complicated. Overwhelming. She didn’t want her life to change.
Lisa had too much to absorb and think about, and this was all happening too fast. More than anything else she feared was the fact that her life was never going to be the same.
Riley Douglas handed a stack of papers to the secretary who’d just arrived at their downtown building for the day and strode down the hall to his father’s office.
At sixty-six, Caleb still had a thick head of silver hair and a physique toned from keeping a hand in the working operation of his ranch. He’d kept his recent bouts with heart disease a secret from their colleagues and the community, and Riley was one of the few to recognize fatigue and stress taking a toll on the man. Right now Caleb’s face was red with anger. Riley picked up the phone and punched in a number. “I’m calling Dr. Simms. You’re not supposed to be getting riled up like this.”
Focused on this latest ghastly situation, Caleb waved Riley’s comment away. The enormous black-lacquer armoire was open, the television tuned to the local news yet again. On Caleb’s desk was last evening’s paper as well as today’s special morning edition, both displaying the pages which relayed the gold-mine story.
“We’ve got to do something,” Caleb insisted. “That’s been Douglas land for four generations. No bohemian dogsitter is going to take it away from us.”
Waiting to speak with the doctor, Riley watched footage of the young woman for
the hundredth time. First they showed her chasing two dogs out her front door. Dressed in a long skirt, tennis shoes and a denim jacket, she was a fashion casualty if he’d ever seen one. Her dark hair could use an extreme makeover, as well, parted on one side and sprouting wild ringlets that fell to her shoulders.
She stared at the camera as though she’d been caught committing a crime, then jerked into motion, calling her dogs. She tripped over the huge beasts, tripped over the hem of her wallpaper-print skirt, then retreated back into her house and slammed the door.
“Doc, can you spare a call to my father’s downtown office? I’ll never get him to yours. He’s taking his blood-pressure medicine, but I don’t like the way he looks. Thanks.” Riley hung up and kept watching.
The next video clip was taken as Lisa Martin and Emily Stanton approached Town Hall. With swinging dark hair, Emily was cool and professional, guiding the dowdy heiress through the crowd of reporters on the street and into the building, with the assistance of half a dozen police officers. This little town had never seen so many law-enforcement officials. The state patrol and the sheriff’s department had been on call since early reports of the gold strike had been leaked months ago.
The following shot was of Lisa Jane Martin riding in the passenger side of a silver Chrysler Intrepid as Emily pulled away followed by a camera crew. They’d shown these same clips over and over since the night before. Reporters had used every rags-to-riches phrase they could come up with and had dubbed the Martin girl Cinderella.
And then came the picture someone had culled from a past Thunder Canyon High yearbook, a photograph of a dark-haired girl who looked vaguely familiar. According to the caption under the likeness, she’d graduated two years behind him, so it was possible he’d seen her in the halls. Nothing remarkable about her. Nothing that would have garnered more than a passing glance.
She was either divorced or never married, he guessed, since her name was still Martin and she lived in the house where she’d lived with relatives since her mother’s death. After one day of news, he knew more about Lisa Jane Martin than he did about the women he dated.
“She’s single,” he said thoughtfully.
His father finally removed his gaze from the television. His eyebrows rose and a glimmer of hope sparkled in his eyes. “Yes. Yes, she is.”
Chapter Two
Lisa opened her eyes and stared at the plaster ceiling. Saw the same two cracks that had been there the day before and the week before that and the month before that. She sat up, and beside her both retrievers woke and yawned. Joey placed his front feet on the floor first, stretching with his hind feet on the bed, then slowly stepped down. Piper bounded from the bed in one leap and danced in front of her while she stumbled to the bathroom. “Hold on a sec.”
A few minutes later, she peered out the curtained window of the back door, let the three dogs out of the utility room and loosed all five into the backyard. The click of a shutter reached her through the morning stillness. She couldn’t see anyone, but sun momentarily glinted off a distant object. There was a wooded area behind her house, and it was possible someone could wait out there with a telephoto lens. “Get a life!” she shouted and shut the door.
While she made coffee and poured orange juice, she watched the dogs through the window over the sink. They seemed unconcerned with anything other than their morning sniff-and-pee routine, so she guessed all was clear.
She turned on the television, looking for her morning show and instead saw her own image plastered across the screen. She raised one hand to her hair in horror.
“Oh, my. Oh, my.” The Lisa on the screen looked as if she’d been struck by lightning coming out of the Salvation Army store. Her goal had always been anonymity, but her appearance called attention by its very weirdness.
The clips of her with Emily emphasized her drab fluffiness next to Emily’s clean lines.
What could be so interesting that all those feet of film were being taken of her? A million dollars, she gleaned from the commentary and shook her head. She still had no concept of her inheritance.
The next image induced a groan. She’d always detested that high school picture. While other girls’ parents had forked over an arm and a leg for touched-up studio work, she’d found the very least expensive photographer in the area. She’d never thought it would make a difference. Who would see it after all?
Lisa flipped channels. The very same picture was plastered on CNN footage. Only a few million people had seen it.
Mind reeling, she turned off the TV. The real problem was how she was going to take care of her pets today without being followed. She had filled out paperwork for a restraining order and the judge had signed it. The press was required to stay a hundred feet away from her and out of her yard. She had twelve homes to visit this morning, then meetings with the security people and the mining association in the afternoon.
She let the dogs in and they ate while she fixed herself breakfast. She slipped on her neon-green garden boots and washed out the kennels and runs, filled bowls with water, then locked the dogs into the shaded runs for the day.
After showering, she considered her wardrobe. Whatever she donned, it would be on the news tonight. A pretty mind-boggling concept. There wasn’t much choice. Only long skirts hung in her closet, so she chose one and dressed, found a white ball cap to hide her hair and donned a pair of sunglasses.
Her rusty old green Blazer started with a puff of smoke, but it started, and she pulled out of her drive. A glance in the rearview mirror showed three SUVs with satellite dishes following her.
She’d seen clips of Madonna, J. Lo and Gwyneth Paltrow being hounded by reporters, and she’d wondered how they ever managed to go anywhere in private. That she was facing the same problem today was surreal.
Having an audience took the joy from a task she usually enjoyed. Caring for her pets, walking the dogs and knowing they were getting attention, was normally rewarding. Today she felt as if she were under a microscope. And she was. She took three dogs at a time in her Blazer, walking them on leashes through the park and politely picking up after them with plastic bags, which she disposed of in trash barrels.
“Heiress picks up collie poop,” she said to herself. “Film at eleven.” Jake, the collie in question, barked at the cameraman across the street. The dog’s owner drove to a nearby town to work and paid Lisa to walk the animal once a day during his absence. Lisa scratched Jake’s ears. “Unnerving, isn’t it, to do your business with paparazzi watching? Maybe a talent scout will discover you and you’ll be the next fast-food icon. You like tacos?”
Dogs eventually walked and cats all fed, Lisa drove home to grab a quick lunch. A new white Expedition pulled into her drive behind her, and a forty-something woman got out. “I saw Aggie on CNN last night! You, too, of course.”
Lisa nodded. “Smile. You’ll probably see yourself tonight.”
Barbara Cooper, owner of the dachshund in Lisa’s backyard, glanced around and fluffed her hair with her fingers. “Are you serious?”
“’Fraid so. Did you have a good trip?”
Barbara tugged the front of her shirt neatly into place and followed Lisa into the house. “It was work, what can I say? Did Aggie behave herself?”
“A sweetheart, as always.”
When they reached the kitchen, Barbara took a check from her purse and handed it to Lisa. She was one of Lisa’s longtime clients, though they’d never had a personal conversation until now. “So you own the gold mine?”
Lisa nodded. “That’s what they tell me. It’s official, because I signed all the paperwork yesterday. It’s still not real, though.”
“What are you going to do?” Barbara asked as they walked out to the backyard.
After handing the woman Aggie’s retractable leash, Lisa opened the kennel door and the dachshund shot out. “What do you mean?”
Barbara knelt and scooped up her pet. “Surely you won’t be taking in dogs anymore. I don’t know where I’ll find some
one else I trust who really cares for Aggie the way you do.”
Lisa petted Aggie’s head. “I can’t imagine not taking in my dogs,” she replied. “They’re like friends who come to see me.”
Barbara fastened the leash on the dog’s collar and set her pet down. “We’ll see. Somehow I don’t think you’ll be interested next time. You’ll be busy.”
“Doing what?”
“Spending money. And I won’t blame you. That’s what I’d be doing.” She walked toward the side gate.
“Well, congratulations. And thanks.”
Lisa watched her go, checked the water dishes and fixed herself a peanut-butter-and-potato-chip sandwich.
When she walked out her front door, a dark blue limo waited at the curb. The driver, who’d been standing beside the rear door, tipped his hat. “Miss Martin.”
She took several steps forward. Mayor Brookhurst had told her he’d work out the details of her meetings. “This is for me?”
He nodded. “Yes, miss. Mr. Douglas sent me for you.”
Everyone in Thunder Canyon knew of Caleb Douglas. Even Lisa, who shied away from people and the places they gathered, had heard the talk. Occasionally Lisa cared for Adele’s enormous poodle, but she’d never run into Caleb during any of her visits.
Gran had never had much use for the man or his high-handed wife, but because of their wealth and property holdings, none could deny the Douglases were pillars of the community.
“You’re taking me to the security meeting?”
“Yes, miss.”
There had been talk recently about how the Douglases had come to claim ownership of the Queen of Hearts mine. She’d learned from Emily that the Douglases had hired her firm to prove their legal claim, but that the investigation had proven otherwise.
Whether she liked it or not, Lisa was up to her neck in this gold-mine business. She was going to have to be better informed, she concluded, slipping inside the limo and seating herself on the soft leather as the driver closed the door. She had a lot more questions for Emily.
Million-Dollar Makeover Page 2
