“We certainly respect the privacy of endangered horses,” the woman said. “Is there a way around?”
There were several ways around, but Morgan wasn’t about to set a bunch of nut cases loose in the woods.
“It’s moving!” someone yelled. “It’s leaving!”
The man in the gray-green robe who sparked the original excitement shielded his eyes with one hand. He leaned against the fence, as though being a few inches closer would clarify the view. Burke had edged in closer, too. No one seemed to notice the young man, his braided hair pulled back in a thick ponytail and his sturdy build covered with a bright Hawaiian shirt, as he panned the crowd, then the pasture, with his phone.
“No, it is the breeze blowing the grass,” the robed man said. “Ata is still there. See?”
“That’s not an Atacama person,” a heavy man said, scorn in his tone. “It’s a rock gnome. Can’t you see the gnome houses?”
He pointed to earth that decades of freezing and thawing had pushed into neat little mounds.
“Only fools believe in gnomes,” the robed man said. “Have you seen a gnome carcass?”
“That mummy doesn’t prove aliens visited earth,” the woman said.
Del glanced at Morgan, one eyebrow quirked up. She shrugged. The crowd seemed well-informed on the topic of aliens and fairy tales. Morgan had to admit she was lost.
“That creature,” the gnome man said, pointing across the pasture, “is more likely a gnome than an alien. You people are wacko.”
“You’re ignorant if you don’t know the old myths and fairy tales were about extraterrestrial visitors.”
The gnome man pushed the robed man. The Area 51 woman grabbed the gnome man’s arm. Soon the entire crowd was pushing and shoving, their ineffective scuffling reminding Morgan of kindergartners fighting over a favorite toy.
“Hey!” Del yelled. “You people knock it off!”
They weren’t listening to the old cowboy.
“Morgan, call the police.”
The moment Morgan pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, the altercation ceased. She held the phone in one hand, her other poised to punch in Chief Sharp’s number.
“You folks need to go home,” Del said. “Whatever you think you saw, it’s not going anywhere. It didn’t even move during your fight.”
The woman with the Area 51 bag raised her arms. “People! Is this any way to make first contact? They’re liable to fly home after seeing us act like children.”
The robed man pointed. “Ata is still there. He’s waiting.”
Morgan squinted across the pasture. The white object remained motionless. She waved a hand at Kurt’s son.
“Burke, can you take a closer look at that thing?”
He grinned. “You bet!”
Del held the barbed wire strands apart for Burke to crawl through. When several alien hunters tried to follow, Del warned them back with the renewed threat of a call to the police.
Burke headed across the pasture to the tall weeds obscuring the white object. His stiff ponytail bounced as he jogged. He slowed, filming the phenomena with his cell phone. As he neared, he crouched, then knelt. Burke reached out with one hand while the other aimed the cell phone at the weeds. He thrust his free hand into the weeds. Several people in the crowd emitted gasps or cries of “No!”
Burke fell back on the seat of his Bermuda shorts. He thrust his arm into the air, grasping the white object. He ran back to the fence.
“It’s a rock!”
He held out the white rock, narrow and the length of his forearm. Morgan and Lorina had both seen something of a similar color and size, but it hadn’t been a rock. The hawk had snatched up a living creature.
“I guess the rock gnome people win,” Del said. “Now either buy something in the shop, or go home.”
The Atacama mummy enthusiast stepped closer to Burke, his gray-green robe flapping against his ankles.
“May I have that?” he asked. “For study.”
Del looked at Morgan, his mustache trembling. He was trying not to laugh.
“Sure,” Morgan said. “That one’s free. But don’t take anything else. If I see anyone taking so much as a piece of gravel from the driveway, I’m turning you all in.”
The crowd dwindled, although some lingered at the edges of the rock shop property with field glasses. Burke offered to stand guard at the pasture fence.
“Where’s your brother?” Morgan asked.
“He missed everything,” Burke said. “Jase hitched a ride to town with David this morning to get an espresso. Then he called Mom to come and get him. Mom wanted to pick me up, but I opted to stay here, and I’m glad I did. There was lots more action going on here than at the golf tournament at the hotel.”
Morgan, Ned and Del returned to the shop.
“Burke got it all on his camera,” Ned told Kendall. “Those people went nuts over a stupid rock. The one I saw wasn’t standing still.”
“Quiet, Ned,” Morgan whispered. She glanced around the shop, but the customers indoors appeared to be the usual tourists and rockhounds.
Kendall closed his eyes and shook his head. With his wild curly hair and beard, he could have fit in with the alien hunters or hippies, except that his tie-dyed T-shirt proclaimed a Bible verse, and displayed an image of the Cross.
“I hope someone gets a clear image of whatever that thing is. If we can prove it’s a denizen of planet Earth, maybe people will leave us alone.”
“Thanks for staying at the cash register, Kendall,” Morgan said. “Burke can show you what you missed. He’s standing guard.”
“I’ll do more than that,” Kendall said. “I’ll beg him to not post it on You Tube.”
“Hopefully, Burke is better at keeping things under his hat than a certain employee of ours,” Morgan said.
“I was trying to tell people what I saw wasn’t an alien,” Ned said. “It’s not my fault they twisted my words.”
“You’re not in any trouble, Ned,” Kendall said. “I have a feeling they would have come here today regardless of your campfire story.”
Morgan disagreed. What teenager could resist telling a tale that made him the center of adult attention? Worse, his tale was true. He had seen the naked creature. Morgan hadn’t ordered him to keep it a secret.
They remained vigilant the rest of the business day. Del, Burke, Kendall and Ned took turns at guard duty to deter lingering alien hunters from disturbing the donkeys.
When the mail arrived, Morgan found an official-looking envelope from the county sheriff’s office. She tore it open. Her conceal carry license resembled her driver’s license. In a way, both permitted the use of objects capable of great destruction. She tucked it into her purse.
When Allie returned from a grocery-shopping trip at closing time, she invited everyone to a backyard cookout. While burgers, both the veggie and beef variety, sizzled on the grill, Morgan overheard Burke tell Del he was happy in the cabin, spiders and dirt and all. From his complaints, Zulina sounded like a hovering helicopter parent, while Ned’s mother and father left their child on too loose a rein.
Allie was not as alarmed as Morgan expected when they described the First Contact crowd.
“It runs in cycles,” Allie said. “First UFO sightings, then Bigfoot, now little people.”
“Every few years we get this.” Kendall flipped burgers on the grill behind the rock shop living quarters. “I’m not sure what I saw, but I don’t believe it was an alien.”
“You saw it?” Burke and Del asked at the same time.
“I did too,” Allie said.
“My first impression was of a tiny person,” Morgan said. “But after I thought about it, I realized it had to be some kid’s 4-H project. I predict people will see aliens with decreasing frequency, until the last one is picked off by predators.”
&
nbsp; “If they’re the size and shape of that rock I found,” Burke said, “it sounds more like a capuchin monkey. But they have fur.” He found a picture of one and showed everyone his phone screen.
“There aren’t any monkeys in the mountains,” Del said. “Except for the zoo.”
“Maybe it escaped from the zoo,” Ned said.
Del shook his head. “That’s a long trip. Over twenty miles.”
“I’d go with Burke’s primate theory,” Allie said. “What I saw resembled a human. But that capuchin is not quite it.”
The burgers were done, and speculation about the identity of the mystery creature took second place to eating. Morgan sat at the picnic table.
“I’d almost talked myself into attending the mineral show,” Kendall said, “but with all this commotion, I had better stay here.”
“Marissa and I would like to go with you,” Allie told Morgan. “I know Cindy’s going, but you’ll need extra help the opening weekend. The men can manage the shop.”
“And I’ll be better about sticking close to the shop with Allie and Marissa gone,” Kendall said. “No distractions from my two beautiful girls.” He kissed Allie on the cheek.
“I would appreciate your help,” Morgan told Allie, “and your expertise. Are you sure? Cindy told me the crowds are huge, and traveling with a baby isn’t easy.”
“I can take Marissa to the motel for naps. The drive to Denver isn’t too long. Kendall and I talked it over, and maybe this is our way of making up to you for all the times we’ve been gone when we were supposed to be working.”
Morgan couldn’t argue with that.
“I’ll pick up Allie and Marissa Sunday,” Kendall said.
“We’ve got a problem,” Morgan said. “We’ll have two baby seats, two children and three adults. We’re short a few seat belts.”
After a lively discussion involving calendar coordination and seating arrangements scribbled on paper napkins, they settled the trip plans. The invasion of Normandy might not have involved much more planning.
David walked around the side of the building looking tired and dirty.
“Is this the party Mom texted me about?”
* * *
After the cookout wound down, Morgan called Bernie. When she heard Rolf’s voice in the background, Morgan decided to stay in the trailer. She pulled her overnight bag from the trunk of the Buick. Ned hitched a ride with Del to town. David and Burke headed to the cabin. Peace and quiet settled over the Rock of Ages.
And heat.
The trailer felt like an oven set to broil. Morgan placed a camp chair outside and picked out constellations in the crystal clear night sky. Crickets chirped and an owl hooted. When Kurt called her cell phone, Morgan filled him in on the day’s craziness.
“Between the dopers living in the park,” Kurt said, “and now the alien crowd, it’s turning out to be a summer to remember in Golden Springs.”
“I won’t soon forget it,” Morgan agreed.
“We could make it even more memorable,” Kurt said, his voice going husky. “Burke is at your place, and Jase is staying at the hotel with his mother. I have the townhouse all to myself. It seems a shame to hoard all this air conditioning and hot and cold running water to myself.”
“You really know how to tempt a girl.” Morgan hesitated. If she didn’t have to explain her absence to half a dozen people, she would have jumped in the Buick and raced to Kurt’s. And not just for the prospect of air conditioning. “I want to be close in case Adelaide goes into labor. How is the campaign going?”
“That is a pathetic ploy to change the subject,” Kurt said.
“I won’t deny it.”
Kurt exhaled, managing an expressive, long-suffering sigh. “The campaign is going as well as my love life. Erwin seems to be pulling ahead of both me and Piers.”
“I’m sorry,” Morgan said. “I wish I could help.”
“Maybe you can,” Kurt said. “You could make sure your aliens are registered to vote.”
“Very funny.”
* * *
Another hour passed before the trailer cooled off to almost bearable. Only exhaustion allowed Morgan to fall asleep. Her cell phone rang several times before she realized she wasn’t dreaming. She grabbed it off the bedside table.
“Hello?”
“Beatrice here. Are you awake?”
“Not really.” Until a thought occurred to her. “Is Bernie okay?”
“I haven’t heard any different,” Beatrice said. “I’m not calling about her.”
Morgan sat up, pulling the blankets around her shoulders. Sometime in the wee hours, the trailer had gone from oven-hot to uncomfortably chilly.
“What is it, then?” Morgan asked as she yawned.
“Where are you?” Beatrice asked.
“I’m at the rock shop. In Del’s trailer.”
“Kurt’s not with you?”
“No,” Morgan said. “Why would he be? Wait. What’s going on? Is Kurt okay?”
“Erwin Sylvester is in the hospital,” Beatrice said. “His last words before he went unconscious were that Kurt tried to kill him.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Morgan called Kurt, letting the phone ring until it went to voice mail, then calling again. Kurt finally answered, his voice sleep-fogged.
“It’s the middle of the night.” He sounded cranky, then his tone turned to concern. “Are you okay? Is it Burke?”
“We’re both fine, but Beatrice told me someone tried to kill Erwin Sylvester.”
There was a pause, then Kurt sounded fully awake.
“Are you kidding? What happened?”
“Beatrice just called asking if you were with me.”
“Why would she—” The abrupt silence was interrupted by an even more abrupt curse. “She wants to know if I have an alibi.”
“You’ll need one,” Morgan said. “Erwin said you tried to kill him.”
“Me? That’s ridiculous. Is Erwin okay?”
“He’s in the hospital, and Beatrice didn’t give me any details.”
“I’m home alone. I have been since I left campaign headquarters at eight.”
“Well, I’m sure you won’t need an alibi. I mean, who would be silly enough to believe you would try to murder Erwin Sylvester?”
“Chief Sharp,” Kurt said. “He broke up our fist fight. Sharp will think I had motivation. I’ll just have to hope that the means and opportunity don’t fit my circumstances.”
* * *
Morgan couldn’t help thinking that if she had just gone to Kurt’s for a romantic evening, he wouldn’t be an attempted murder suspect now. She drove to the police department Friday morning to offer what support she could.
Although Kurt was interviewed in the Chief’s cubicle office, the cramped police department inside City Hall offered no privacy. Morgan could hear every word over the head-high divider. She and Deputy Parker pretended not to listen while Sharp asked several questions about Kurt’s state of mind, the altercation between him and Erwin, and Kurt’s whereabouts the previous night.
“I don’t know why Erwin would claim I tried to kill him,” Kurt said. “Which hospital is he in? If I can just talk to him—”
“You can’t,” Sharp said. “Mr. Sylvester is in a medically induced coma for his head injury. I’d prefer you didn’t leave town until we can clear this up.”
* * *
Morgan and Kurt left City Hall and walked toward Mineral Springs Park. Kurt paused on the bridge, staring at the creek. The spring melt water from mountain snows had slowed to a trickle by late July. Cottonwoods, aspens, and pines crowded the water, offering shade from the blazing sun. Butterflies sailed lazily over pink and white wild roses. A hummingbird buzzed overhead.
The tree-shaded bridge offered a little privacy in the middle of the
public park.
“Chief Sharp can’t actually believe you hurt Erwin,” Morgan said. “He’s just being cautious.”
“What choice does he have,” Kurt said, “if Erwin accused me of attempted murder.”
“Why would Erwin say that?” Morgan asked.
“Maybe whoever attacked him claimed to be me. Or maybe Erwin assumed it was me because of our fight.”
“I need to get back to the shop,” Morgan said. “We’ve been overrun by people hoping to see aliens. Between the letter to the editor you published, and Ned telling stories around the campfire, we’ve been swamped.”
“I thought the letter would attract business to your shop,” Kurt said. “I’ll admit I didn’t foresee the trouble caused by the alien crowd congregating at the Rock of Ages.”
“Congregating. That’s the right word. Those people are fanatics. Did you see Burke’s film of the battle between the alien and the rock gnome people?”
Kurt smiled and nodded. “I told him a photo or video of the creature would be as valuable as a Sasquatch sighting. He could buy himself a Ferrari.”
“The only alien Burke filmed was a chunk of white granite,” Morgan said. “You saw how serious the true believers were. They might not appreciate their outburst being recorded. Can people sue me if Burke posts it on You Tube?”
“You worry too much.” Kurt pulled Morgan close.
The tree-shaded bridge, perfumed with wild roses, was the perfect spot for a secret kiss. The cares of the past few weeks melted away. The thought briefly occurred to Morgan that she might be kissing an attempted murderer. Kurt had killed a man once, in self defense. Even then, it had been more accidental than intentional. She relaxed, realizing that she trusted Kurt with her life as well as her heart.
“Excuse me.”
They jerked apart, turning to the voice. Ned’s parents looked more disheveled than usual. His father’s red hair was matted flat on one side of his head, while sticking out in electrified curls on the other.
“You’re the lady Ned’s been working for,” he said.
“Yes. I’m Morgan Iverson.”
“I’m Sly. Ned’s dad.” He wrapped an arm around the woman’s shoulders and pulled her close. “And this is his mom, Gypsy.”
Stone Cold Blooded (A Rock Shop Mystery) Page 18
