Carol Cox

by Trouble in Store

  “My uncle was already gone by then,” Caleb said. His brow furrowed. “But that was nearly three months ago. Why did Charley’s brother wait until now to come out here himself?”

  “Lydia Weber wrote that she’d been ill for several weeks. He didn’t want to leave her until he was certain she’d recover.”

  “And now he’s left her forever.” Melanie’s breath came out in a soft sigh. “How very sad.”

  The marshal folded his arms, and his probing gaze returned. “Sad, yes. But I also find it a little odd that we now have one murder and one suspicious death occurring in Cedar Ridge in a few months’ time—especially since they both have a connection with this store.”

  17

  I had no idea your house was filled with so many wonders, Professor.” Caleb waved his arm, taking in the large room where they all sat sipping coffee after a congenial meal. “It’s almost like a museum.”

  “Thank you.” The Professor’s angular face grew pink with pleasure. “Learning about the past and the people who inhabited it is one of my greatest joys in life.”

  Melanie could well believe that. She stared around at the glass cases that lined the whitewashed walls of the rambling adobe building the Professor called home.

  The Professor got up and beckoned to Levi. “Do you know what this is?” He knelt beside a porous oblong stone the size of a breadbox and rubbed his hand along its concave surface.

  Levi walked over to inspect the stone and shook his head.

  “It’s called a metate. It was used to grind corn and other grains into meal.”

  Levi’s brow wrinkled. “How does it work?”

  “Like this.” The Professor picked up a smaller stone the size of a brick and hefted it in his hand. Kneeling beside Levi, he reached into a small stone jar and drew out a handful of dried corn, which he sprinkled across the metate’s surface. “Put your hands here,” he directed.

  Levi knelt in front of the Professor and gripped the smaller stone in both hands.

  “Good. Now push it back and forth over the corn.”

  Levi complied, grunting with the effort to roll the stone grinder across the dried kernels. A few minutes later, a grin wreathed his face. “Look! I did it!”

  “So you did.” The Professor chuckled and ruffled the boy’s hair.

  “That’s fascinating,” Melanie said. “I’ve never seen one of those before.” She took another sip of coffee and walked over to get a closer look at some of the other items on display. “What a marvelous collection you have! How long has it taken you to accumulate it all?”

  The Professor joined her, and Caleb followed. “I’ve picked it up one piece at a time over the past twenty years or so.” He surveyed the room with a loving eye. “Some would see the life I’ve chosen as a lonely existence, but it suits me well.”

  He tilted his head to one side and looked at Caleb. “Local gossip has it that the marshal now knows the identity of the murder victim. Is that true?”

  Caleb blinked at the abrupt change of subject, then he gave a sour laugh. “For once, the rumor mill got it right. The man’s name was Lucas Weber. It seems he came out here to check on the circumstances surrounding his brother’s death. Apparently my uncle had some suspicions and wrote to Mr. Weber about them.

  “I didn’t know his brother, Charley—hadn’t even heard about him dying out here until the marshal filled us in. All that happened before I came to Cedar Ridge.”

  He looked over and saw Levi arranging a series of arrowheads in a neat row according to size. “Leave those alone, son. They don’t belong to you.”

  The Professor waved away his concern. “What he’s doing won’t hurt them a bit.” He watched Levi for a moment, then added, “I believe you can expect great things from that boy. He has an orderly mind.”

  Melanie wondered if the Professor saw in Levi a reflection of himself as a child.

  The Professor smiled at his guests. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve enjoyed this evening. It is a rare pleasure for me to be able to share my collection with people who can appreciate them.”

  He ran his fingers along the top of a display case, then turned back to Caleb and Melanie. “I remember Charley Weber.”

  Melanie stared at him. “You do?”

  The Professor nodded. “He was an old mining associate of George and Alvin’s.”

  “That’s what the marshal told us,” Caleb said. “Funny, but I never heard Uncle Alvin mention him. I’m surprised he didn’t say anything about a friend of his dying while visiting, especially if there was any question as to what caused his death.”

  The Professor tilted his head. “I don’t find it odd at all. That fits perfectly with Alvin’s character. He wasn’t a man to stir up gossip or indulge in idle speculation.”

  “True.” Caleb glanced down at the floor, then turned his gaze back to the Professor. “Do you remember anything about the way Charley died?”

  The Professor took a moment to straighten his jacket cuff before answering. “As I recall, he had been here a couple of weeks when he became ill. He seemed to be recuperating nicely, but then he took a turn for the worse and died quite suddenly . . . in his sleep, I believe. His death took everyone by surprise.” He narrowed his eyes and stroked his chin. “Or maybe not everyone.”

  Melanie started. “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t you see? If Alvin’s suspicions were well founded, and Charley Weber was murdered, there was at least one person who expected it.” The Professor spoke in a matter-of-fact tone that sent gooseflesh chasing up her arms.

  She leaned forward. “But people get sick and die unexpectedly all the time. You said Mr. Weber passed away peacefully in his sleep. He wasn’t stabbed or shot or—” she gulped—“hit over the head.”

  A smile touched the Professor’s thin lips. “True, but not every murder involves something so violent . . . or so obvious. Poison, for instance, has been used for centuries.”

  A long silence followed his statement. Melanie found her voice first. “So you think someone poisoned Charley Weber?”

  The Professor shrugged. “Who can be sure? It’s certainly one possibility. Anyone who was around him during the time of his illness could have added some substance to his food or drink that would have had the desired effect.”

  Caleb drew himself up. “If you’ll remember, he was staying with my uncle and his partner at the time. I hope you aren’t suggesting either of them had anything to do with this?”

  The Professor held up his hands. “Not at all. I knew both George and Alvin well, and I cannot conceive of such a thing. But”—he raised one forefinger—“with him staying in the rooms above the mercantile and so many people passing through on a daily basis, it opens up a wealth of opportunities.”

  “What did you make of all that?” Melanie asked while Caleb guided the wagon along the road on their way back to town. Silvery moonlight glinted on Levi’s hair as he drooped against her side. She circled her left arm around his shoulders.

  “He really does seem like some sort of a professor, doesn’t he.” Caleb chuckled. “Throwing out all those theories and challenging you to come up with a logical solution.”

  Levi slumped farther down in the wagon seat, coming to rest with his head in Melanie’s lap. By the light of the moon, she could tell his eyes were closed, and he appeared to be fast asleep. She smiled and stroked the boy’s silky hair with her fingertips.

  The wagon jolted as one of the front wheels bounced over a rock in the road. Melanie gripped the edge of the seat with one hand and held Levi steady with the other. The sudden lurch threw Caleb’s shoulder hard against hers.

  He righted himself and brought the wagon under control, then gave her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry,” he said. Their eyes met and held, and the smile faded from his face.

  “Don’t apologize. I’m all right.” Melanie’s voice came out in a breathy whisper. Lowering her head, she readjusted her position as best she could without waking the sleeping child, st
ill able to feel the pressure of Caleb’s shoulder against her own. She watched his hands, strong and sure on the reins, then risked a quick glance at his face.

  Seeing his eyes focused on the road ahead, she let her gaze linger over his profile, silhouetted in the moonlight. It was a strong face, one she could imagine looking at for the rest of her life.

  The thought left her breathless, then she pulled herself together. What was she doing, building up castles in the air?

  18

  Melanie finished arranging a single place setting of Blush by Blair china on a table in the front window and stepped back to judge the effect. Beautiful. The lace tablecloth she had used as a table covering set off the dinnerware with its rose design and blue highlights to perfection.

  Leaning forward, she adjusted the cup and saucer slightly. A shadow fell across the table, and Melanie looked up to see Will Blake watching her through the window. When she smiled, he tipped his hat and came into the store.

  Caleb looked up from sorting mail behind the counter when the bell jingled. “Morning, Will.” He took a second look and his eyes widened. “Look at you, all spiffed up this morning. What’s the occasion?”

  Melanie took one last look at her china display and strolled over to join the men at the counter. Will did look different this morning. Now that he had removed his Stetson, she could see that his hair, usually tousled with dark curls tumbling over his forehead, was neatly parted and slicked down, and his strong jaw showed evidence of a recent shave. Instead of his usual work clothes, he was dressed in a crisp white shirt with a string tie at the collar and neatly creased dark trousers. She looked up again at his face with interest, awaiting his reply.

  Caleb set the mailbag under the counter and grinned. “The preacher’s not in town, so we aren’t holding a church service. Nobody has died this week that I know of, so you can’t be going to a funeral.”

  Will grinned back, showing no offense at Caleb’s bantering tone. “I’m glad you like the way I look, but you aren’t the one I’m trying to impress.” He cleared his throat and turned toward Melanie. “I asked the café to pack a basket of food, and I picked it up a few minutes ago. Would you like to join me for a picnic?”

  Melanie felt her lips form an O. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Caleb’s mouth drop open. “Why, I . . . I don’t know.”

  She glanced at Caleb, whose mouth was now closed, his lips drawn tight in a thin line, wearing a look similar to the one he’d worn when he’d interrupted Dooley’s “proposal.”

  Melanie looked back at Will. “I have some things I really ought to be doing around the store.”

  “I’m sure those will keep. Things are usually pretty slow in the middle of the week.” Will smiled at Caleb. “Right?”

  Caleb grunted. Will apparently took the sound for an assent and nodded at Melanie. “I thought we could take a ride in my rig, and I’d show you a bit of the countryside. Maybe we could go across the creek and eat near the ruins.” Crinkles formed at the corners of his eyes when he smiled.

  The smile warmed Melanie like sunlight on a spring day, and she felt her interest quicken. The prospect of spending some time outdoors and seeing the ruins she had heard about sounded much more appealing than staying indoors all day. And as Will observed, business was slow at the moment. They’d only had one customer all morning.

  She looked at Caleb again. “Would it be all right with you?”

  Caleb grunted again, adding a curt nod this time.

  Melanie beamed at Will. “Thank you, that sounds like a lovely plan. Just give me a few minutes to run upstairs and change into a different dress.”

  Will’s smile broadened. “You look just fine the way you are. There’s a bit of a breeze, though, so you might want to take something to throw over your shoulders in case it cools off later.”

  Caleb stiffened. “How long are you planning to be gone?”

  Will chuckled. “It’s a beautiful day. Why rush?”

  Melanie laughed, caught up in his lighthearted mood. “All right, let me get a wrap.” She hurried to the back room, where she kept a light shawl on a hook. When she turned to go back into the mercantile, she nearly collided with Caleb.

  She yelped and took a quick step back, startled by the intensity of his gaze. “What is it?”

  His brows formed a straight line above his eyes. “I just don’t want you getting the idea that you can go running off anytime you want.”

  Melanie stared up at him. “But you said it would be all right if I left for a while.”

  Caleb went on as if she hadn’t said a word. “As I told you the other morning, it’s the height of folly for you to be off on your own, with a killer on the loose.”

  “But I won’t be on my own. Will is escorting me.”

  The muscles in Caleb’s jaw worked. “And Will is one of the few people I’d let you go off with like this.”

  Melanie arched her eyebrows. “Let me?” She flung the shawl over her shoulders and pushed past him.

  Will settled his Stetson back on his head when she reappeared and grinned at Caleb. “We’ll see you later.” He crooked his elbow at Melanie.

  When she accepted his proffered arm, she saw a look pass between the two men but couldn’t tell what it meant. She followed Will’s lead out to the street, where a gleaming buggy awaited them. She looked up at him in surprise. “We’re going in this?”

  There was that smile again. “Only the best for a special lady.” He helped her up into the buggy, and Melanie arranged her skirt on the tufted leather seats.

  Will circled around behind the buggy and swung up beside her, then picked up the reins and set the flashy bay mare in motion with a click of his tongue. People stopped along the boardwalk and stared as they drove by. Melanie returned their nods, feeling a bit self-conscious as she proceeded down the street sitting at the side of a man who thought she was special.

  Before long the buildings were behind them, and the buggy rolled across open country. Melanie felt her spirits rise with every turn of the wheels, reveling in the fresh-scented breeze that brushed her face and the sights and smells of nature, all seeming to promise them a glorious afternoon.

  She watched the way Will guided the bay mare with strong, sure hands, the economy of motion in his gestures showing his proficiency. She relaxed and leaned back against the padded buggy seat. “Thank you for inviting me. I love working in the store, but I have to admit I enjoy spending time outdoors as much or more.”

  She sighed and let the buggy’s gentle motion ease away the tension of her odd encounter with Caleb. Looking out over the vast landscape, she said, “How long have you been ranching here?”

  Will tugged on the right rein to guide the bay in a gentle curve that brought them alongside a sparkling creek. “I came out from Texas five years ago with a herd of five hundred breeding stock.”

  Melanie raised her eyebrows. “So many?”

  Will smiled. “That’s considered a pretty small number in ranching circles. Right now, I’m running around ten thousand head. That’s about all I can handle at the moment.”

  Melanie shook her head. “I can’t imagine how you manage to keep up with it all.”

  The clear whistling calls from a bevy of quail met her ears, and she smiled when she spied their heads bobbing as they scratched beneath the underbrush. The mother quail darted from the undergrowth at the base of a cedar tree, heading toward a low creosote bush with quick, determined strides. The plume on her head bobbed in rhythm with her movements. Six babies, identical to their mother except for size, scurried along behind her.

  Melanie laughed, then looked around. “So where are these ruins I’ve heard about?”

  Will pointed off to the left. “Over there. You’ll see them in a minute.” He turned the buggy in that direction as he spoke, heading straight toward the creek.

  Melanie gave a loud gasp, and Will chuckled. “Don’t worry. The water’s shallow here. We can ford it easily enough.”

  She watched as th
ey splashed through the flowing water, relieved when she saw it didn’t even come up to the level of the wheel hubs. A hundred yards beyond, they reached the base of the cliffs. Will pulled the mare to a halt under a huge sycamore tree at the edge of a large meadow. “Here we are. This is also where we’ll have the Founders Day celebration. Plenty of room for races and games out here on this meadow.”

  He hopped down and circled the buggy. Melanie put her hands on his shoulders and let him help her step down. She scanned the area, looking for piles of broken rocks and rubble from forgotten, tumbledown dwellings. “I still don’t see the ruins.”

  Will grinned. “Well, let’s start off with these caves at the base of the hill.” He pointed to several round openings along the cliff wall. “Those were used for storage for shocks of corn and other food supplies. But the actual ‘houses’ are up here.” He led her close to the cliff wall and pointed overhead.

  Melanie raised her eyes and caught her breath. Fifty feet above them, narrow clay structures resembling a giant swallow’s nest clung to the sides of the sheer rock. The mud walls matched the coloring of the cliffs, providing perfect camouflage. No wonder she hadn’t noticed them before. Slots in the walls, which apparently served as windows, looked like dark eyes peering down at them.

  Melanie stared upward, utterly fascinated. So these were the ruins of the ancient people she had heard about. She shook her head. “What are they like inside? How could the people who lived here even get up to them?” When Will didn’t answer, she turned to find he had returned to the buggy and was busy arranging their picnic on a blanket he had already spread on the ground.

  She repeated her questions after she’d seated herself on the blanket and filled her plate with fried chicken and two buttery rolls. “And why would anyone want to live on the side of a sheer wall like that?”