“We’ll be hauling some of the rock shop’s most valuable merchandise to the mineral show,” Morgan explained as she paid.
Snowy Bahr emerged from the back where he had been helping the local stable load grain and feed. He wiped his forehead with a red bandana, then stuffed it in a pocket of his canvas overalls. Morgan had heard that Snowy’s white hair had been that color since birth. Tall and broad-shouldered, he tossed bales of hay with the same ease as his much younger employees.
“Afternoon, Morgan. Say, I hope you didn’t mind me sending that Alafare kid up your way.”
“Ned? He told me he tried to get work here.”
“Sure did,” Fern said. “We wanted to give him a job, but he’s just too young and small to work in a feed store.”
“I agree,” Morgan said. “But he’s working out fine at the rock shop.”
Snowy leaned closer, glancing around to make sure no other customers were close. As if he could prevent the least little tidbit of gossip from spreading all over town in a nanosecond. “His folks are part of that gang of hippies camped out in the city park.”
Fern rested her elbows on the checkout counter. “I think you were out of town when they had that rally for Kurt Willard.”
“Kurt was not happy about that,” Morgan said. “He thinks they were put up to it by Erwin Sylvester.”
Snowy reared back. “Of course they were. Ned’s father is Erwin’s son.”
“What?”
Everyone in the feed store turned to look.
“You didn’t know?” Fern asked.
Morgan lowered her voice. “But Ned’s last name is Alafare, not Sylvester.”
Fern shrugged. “The mother probably didn’t bother to take her husband’s name.”
“Probably didn’t bother to get married.” Snowy grimaced and shook his head.
“Ned never mentioned- Wait a minute. He said his grandfather was not supporting Kurt, but he neglected to say that was because his grandfather was running for the same City Council seat. The little sneak.”
Fern held up her hands. “Don’t be too hard on the little guy. From what I heard, Ned’s father had a falling out with Erwin. They haven’t spoken in years.”
“Then why would Ned’s father try to destroy Kurt’s campaign by having that stupid smoke-in for him?”
“Maybe he wasn’t trying to ruin Kurt’s chances.” Snowy brushed a hand through his white hair, dislodging a piece of hay. “He might have really thought he could help Kurt and hurt his father.”
“Why not tell Kurt about the rally, then?” Morgan asked.
“That might be a valid point,” Snowy said, “if you weren’t talking about a fella stoned out of his gourd.”
* * *
Morgan called Kurt, but his phone went to voice mail. She called the newspaper office. Anna answered.
“Kurt isn’t here,” Anna said. “He took his sons to the Olde West Ghost Town.”
A popular tourist attraction. Morgan was dying to ask if she’d seen them go, and whether Zulina Jones had been in the car.
“Anna, do you mind if I drop by?”
“I’m taking my lunch break soon. Meet me at the Hot Tomato.”
Morgan would have preferred the privacy of the newspaper office, but she drove the few blocks down Main Street to the restaurant. Tourists had taken the window tables, so Anna and Morgan sat against one wall. While Morgan blended in with the casual crowd in her blue jeans, sneakers and Willard for City Council T-shirt, Anna could have walked out of a corporate boardroom, her black powersuit completely over the top for her job in a small town newspaper. After ordering, Morgan got to business.
“I just learned that my new employee is Erwin Sylvester’s grandson.”
Anna’s mouth gaped open for an instant before she recovered her usual poise. Morgan continued.
“The kid talked about his grandfather, but he was cagey about who the guy was. I only learned Ned’s true identity from the Bahrs a few minutes ago at the feed store. And his parents are the instigators of that smoke-in that was supposedly a rally to support Kurt’s candidacy, but which really blew his chances.”
Anna looked pleased. “Our own little Watergate scandal.”
“Anna, this isn’t a good thing. The election is in four weeks. That’s not enough time to expose Erwin’s dirty tricks. Is it?”
“We need an operative to infiltrate Erwin’s campaign.”
“Won’t that be obvious?” Morgan asked. “They already did that to us with Ned.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Anna said. “The Bahrs told you Ned’s father hasn’t spoken to Erwin in years.”
“But that doesn’t mean they haven’t reconciled this summer. And maybe part of that reconciliation involved helping daddy win the election.”
“A good theory,” Anna said. “But we won’t know until we get someone on the inside.”
“Everyone I know says they support Kurt. Although some might be saying that because they know I’m dating the candidate.”
“They would believe Beatrice,” Anna said.
“I would believe Beatrice,” Morgan said. “She still thinks I should be dating Pete Melcher. And Kurt’s ex-wife hanging around has just added fuel to her fire. She’s convinced Kurt is going to break my heart, and with a Hollywood siren no less. How do we know Beatrice won’t work to keep Kurt from getting on City Council?”
Anna shook her head. “You’re looking at the surface, Morgan. In Golden Springs, you have to dig down a few layers to get at the truth.”
Morgan couldn’t argue with Anna. She knew it was true. Golden Springs might be a small town, but the history of its citizens was complex, and often deliberately obscured.
“Okay, so assuming we can get Beatrice to go undercover for us—”
“Are you kidding?” Anna asked. “Beatrice would jump at the chance.”
“What if Erwin wins her over to his side?”
“Not a chance. There is bad blood between Beatrice’s people and the Sylvesters, going back to the founding of Golden Springs.”
Morgan had heard so many tales since moving to town of affairs and business deals gone wrong, of family feuds and family infighting, it was a miracle anyone still spoke to one another.
CHAPTER TWENTY
At the end of another busy day at the Rock of Ages, Morgan and Del locked up the shop and hiked behind the barn to the cabin.
“You’re lucky,” roofer Darnell Terrence said. “The frame of the cabin is still solid, even with all those holes in the roof. The leaks didn’t rot out anything structural.”
Del strolled around the outside of the cabin, then opened the door.
“Looks like you already moved in.” He stepped inside. “You know, this roof might be high enough to build a sleeping loft. But I think your more urgent need is to hook up some facilities. You know. A restroom.”
“That is a problem,” David said. “The walk from here to your trailer gets old fast.”
He and David made grandiose plans for the modest cabin while Morgan settled up with the roofer. She began to write out a check on the rock shop account, wiping out the extra money they had managed to accumulate during the past few months.
“I wouldn’t have finished today without your son’s help,” Darnell said. “And that would’ve been bad, ‘cause I’ve got a big job starting tomorrow. Here’s a couple options. I can give you a discount equal to the hours David put in, or you can pay me the original quote, and I’ll cut a check for your son’s pay.”
“I’ll pay the full amount,” Morgan said. “You can pay David.”
Morgan hoped that earning a paycheck so soon after his arrival in Golden Springs would motivate her son to stick around.
* * *
That evening, Morgan looked forward to O’Reily’s Runners. The brisk three-mile walk provided
an outlet for the accumulated tensions of the week. After changing into running clothes at Bernie’s, she climbed into the back seat of Rolf’s SUV.
“Kurt couldn’t make it?” Rolf asked.
“Until the campaign is over,” Morgan said, “I don’t think he’ll be joining us.”
“How is the campaign going?” Bernie asked.
“The smoke-in by the hippies might not have hurt him as bad as he thought. The majority of voters see pot as a non-issue.”
Rolf snorted. “Legalized marijuana is a done deal. Trying to make that a campaign issue is like trying to put the bull back in the barn. Good luck.”
“Rolf!” Bernie sounded shocked. “You approve of marijuana?”
“Approve?” The big-and-tall Search and Rescue volunteer with short-cropped sandy hair seemed more the domestic beer kind of guy. “I wouldn’t go that far. But I will say that legalizing the stuff didn’t unleash the zombie apocalypse, like some people feared.”
Morgan stifled a giggle.
“Thank goodness,” Bernie said. “For a minute I thought you were saying you partook of marijuana. I couldn’t marry a man who smokes pot.”
“I know you’re an old-fashioned gal,” Rolf said. “That’s one of the things I love about you. No, I do not plan to turn our home into an opium den.”
“Don’t make fun of me.” Bernie pushed Rolf lightly on the bicep. “I don’t want to inhale any second hand marijuana smoke. It’s supposed to give people the munchies. I’ve worked hard to lose twenty-five pounds. I can’t risk gaining it back.”
The rest of the ride down Topaz Pass and into Granite Junction consisted of Bernie’s interminable talk about her diet. Morgan thought her head would explode before they reached the pub. Once they started the three-mile walk, Morgan managed to change the conversation from Bernie’s weight loss to her neighbor’s demise.
“Rolf, did you know Eustace Day?”
“Nobody knew Mr. Day very well,” Rolf said. “He was pretty much a recluse. I did meet his son. He had some crazy idea about aliens. Nobody would listen to him, so he left town.”
“How about his granddaughter?” Morgan asked. “Sonny’s daughter?”
“I don’t remember much about her,” Rolf said. “Why?”
“She called,” Morgan said. “She had some questions about her grandfather.”
“Probably wondering who inherits the ranch,” Rolf said. “Although I heard it’s pretty torn up. Eustace didn’t take good care of his place, people say.”
After the 5K run, they met with the gang at O’Reily’s pub for fish and chips. Everyone except Bernie, who had a salad. Morgan noticed her once again push the croutons off her plate.
Vonne, stylish in her upscale running clothes and perfect hair and makeup, leaned across the table to get Morgan’s attention in the noisy pub.
“Morgan, we have yet to see your beau at our run.”
“He’s working on his campaign.” Morgan’s phone buzzed. Caller ID showed Sarah’s name and number. “I’ll be right back.”
Sarah had just called to chat. When she realized Morgan was busy, she apologized.
“I’m glad you called,” Morgan said. “I want to hear every bit of news about my grandson. And you and Russ. Can I call you in the morning?”
“Just remember the time change.” As Sarah laughed, she sounded more like her bubbly, energetic self. “We’re not getting a full night’s sleep yet. I’ll text you a photo. Call me!”
Morgan waited until the photo came through, then walked back to the table. As she approached, she overheard Bernie talking.
“It’s a good thing Kurt has the campaign to keep him busy,” Bernie said through a mouthful of greenery, “or I’d suspect his ex-wife was working on him.”
Vonne’s eyes grew wide. “I hadn’t heard about an ex. Dish!”
Bernie started to, until Rolf elbowed her.
“Ah, women,” Chuck said. “Always nattering on about clothes or men.”
Vonne elbowed her husband. There were going to be a lot of bruised ribs in the morning.
“Really, Chuck,” Vonne snapped. “You’re just making things worse.”
“It’s true,” Morgan said. “Kurt’s Hollywood bombshell ex-wife is in town. But he’s not interested in her, and he really is working on his campaign.”
Bernie blushed a deep shade of red. “I’m sorry, Morgan. I shouldn’t have said anything.” She clambered off the bench and hurried to the restroom.
Morgan started to follow, but Rolf grabbed her arm.
“Let her go. She should be embarrassed. All this dieting has made her addle-brained. She’s not herself.”
Vonne started to pry into that situation, glanced at Chuck, and sat back, chagrined.
All in all, it was not the relaxing evening with friends Morgan had hoped for.
* * *
The ride to Golden Springs was miserable, with Bernie apologizing, sniffling, and staring out the window morosely. When they arrived at the bakery, it was obvious Bernie and Rolf needed to talk. Morgan insisted she had planned to stay at Del’s trailer that evening.
She called David’s cell phone. Heaven only knew how he spent his time as a young bachelor, and Morgan didn’t want to find out by popping in on him unannounced.
“I’m in the cabin,” David said. “Jase, Burke and me are playing three-handed poker. You’re welcome to join us. We could use a fourth player.”
“I just wanted to let you know I’m staying in the trailer tonight. I didn’t want to startle you if you saw my flashlight.”
When she pulled into the rock shop parking lot, the lights were on. Morgan opened the shop door cautiously. The cowbell clanged, announcing her presence to anyone in the building. The door to the living quarters swung open.
“Morgan,” Kendall said, “come on back.”
“I saw the lights,” Morgan said. “I was just checking to make sure things were okay.”
The living quarters were bright with light and filled with the smell of cookies. Ned sat at the kitchen table with a glass of milk. Allie sat in the easy chair with the baby. A nice, domestic scene featuring a traitor.
“Ned, I thought you were sleeping in the loft,” Morgan said.
Ned’s face flushed. He stood, pushing back his chair.
“I was heading that way. Then Allie invited me in for dinner.”
“Sit down, Ned,” Kendall said.
He did, with an uneasy glance at Morgan. Kendall raised an eyebrow, clearly wondering what the problem was, but perhaps not wanting to put Ned on the spot by asking. Not for the first time, Morgan wished she could count her brother as her ally, not her adversary.
“Pull up a chair,” Allie said. She had not witnessed the exchange. “We were getting ready to plug in a movie.”
“I’m beat,” Morgan said. “I just wanted to let you know I’m staying in Del’s trailer tonight.”
Morgan couldn’t ask Ned if he was a political spy for his grandfather Erwin Sylvester. Not in front of Kendall. Her brother might applaud Ned’s work.
* * *
Del had a fully furnished guest room in Barton Potts’s upscale cabin. He hadn’t bothered moving his worn old furniture out of the trailer. The double bed he left behind was comfortable enough, especially after several weeks on Bernie’s sofa. Morgan felt a twinge of guilt about abandoning the enormous gray cat, but it passed quickly. The trailer was hot, even after she opened all the windows. It didn’t cool down until the wee hours of the morning, and then it became chilly.
When she woke to pull a blanket on, Morgan heard the yip of coyotes, and remembered where she was. Her cell phone was nearly dead, but it told her the time— midnight. She clicked on her flashlight and went into the living room to peer out a window at the back of the barn. She wondered if Ned was sleeping in the loft, or if Kendall and Allie h
ad made him a pallet on the living quarter’s floor.
Morgan studied the blue-tinted landscape, searching for naked leprechauns. Kendall’s traps had not captured a thing. The hawk had apparently eaten all the creatures. No sightings had been made in days. Morgan began to turn when movement caught her eye.
A figure moved across the pasture toward the trailer. Maybe it was Ned, aware she had caught on to his little game, and determined to do away with her. But the shadowy figure appeared larger than the skinny teen. Then her thoughts strayed to the shootout at Eustace Day’s ranch. Maybe terrorists were plotting a takeover of the Rock of Ages. Morgan wished she had the gun Kurt had given her, just in case.
Then the figure passed through a bright patch of moonlight, and Morgan realized the intruder was her son. She opened the front door.
“Ah!” David yelped. “You startled me.”
“The coyotes woke me up.” Morgan moved aside to let him in. “I thought you were sleeping in the cabin.”
“Jase and Burke are still playing cards. Jase has some gadget for keeping their smart phones charged, and he’s playing hip hop music by some band he knows personally. He’s big on name-dropping, but since I don’t know the names, that kind of doesn’t impress me. I told the guys I’m going to work in the morning, but they didn’t take the hint.”
“You were coming from the pasture, not the cabin.”
“I checked Uncle Kendall’s leprechaun traps. They were empty.”
“You heard about the leprechauns?”
“Everyone’s talking about them.” David yawned. “I’ll have to see one to believe it.”
“You timed it right,” Morgan said. “It was hot in here until just a little while ago.”
“Hot maybe, but quiet.” David unfolded a blanket and spread it across the sofa.
“The roommate situation’s not working out?”
David shook his head. “Those guys are only three years younger than me, but that must make a lot more difference than you’d think. They act like little kids.”
Morgan suspected David’s maturity had been accelerated by the loss of his father when he was a teenager.
Stone Cold Blooded (A Rock Shop Mystery) Page 15
