Peril by Ponytail (A Bad Hair Day Mystery)

by Nancy J. Cohen

  “Will we see you at dinner?” Marla would love to hear more stories about the region’s past. She couldn’t imagine life as a miner. And it wasn’t one relegated to the history books, either. Dangerous mining conditions still existed around the world, whether for coal or diamonds or other materials. The role of women in the earlier century fascinated her, too. Aside from the red-light district, did women fill any other positions in town besides pioneer wife?

  “I’ll probably be here late, so I may grab something to eat on my way into town later. Over by the highway are a few fast food places. Listen, let me know if you guys need anything, you hear? Meanwhile, enjoy your stay on the ranch. Have you been riding yet?”

  “We’ll get to it.” Dalton gave him a clap on the shoulder. “Good luck with this project. I’m impressed by how much you’ve accomplished so far.”

  “Thanks, son. See you later.”

  Marla faced her husband in the empty street after they were left alone. “So do you want to explore the hillside or head back to the ranch?”

  “Let’s take a look at the hill as long as we’re in the area. We might see something the others missed in regards to the worker who vanished. I don’t think the sheriff would have investigated since they haven’t officially declared the guy as missing.”

  Her breath came short as she climbed the steep stairs to the main level. “Man, I need to get in shape.”

  “You’re not used to this altitude. The air is thinner here.”

  “That’s true.” She trudged toward the hill at the far end of Harrison Street, the main road through town. Sounds of hammering mingled with the whine of drills and the steady thumping noise of heavier construction. Dust filled her nostrils and covered her sneakers.

  They passed an open lot holding various relics—a stone statue of a monk, an old bathtub, rusty wagon wheels, and more. A breeze rustled leaves on nearby shade trees.

  “If Eduardo saw something he interpreted as an apparition, it might have been situated up there.” Dalton pointed to a summit looming over the town to their left. “We’ll have to find a way across to that location.”

  Marla slung her purse strap diagonally over one shoulder, wishing she’d locked her bag in their car. Her walking shoes crunched on a pile of stones as she took her first steps off the road and up a slight rise. A higher stretch forced her to reach upwards and clamber onto a higher rock, her fingers gripping its cool surface. At least this slope was fairly gentle, with small rock ledges for hand and footholds.

  After maneuvering across several flat-topped boulders that rose in ridges, she found an easier gravel path to follow. Dodging bushes and boulders, she gasped and huffed her way upward. Cactus didn’t grow at this elevation, but other shrubs and a few scraggly trees mingled with evergreens. By her standards, they were sparsely scattered among the red dirt and rocks, and they provided little shelter from the blazing sun.

  She paused to adjust her sunglasses, thinking she should add a wide-brimmed hat to her shopping list. She’d forgotten to pack one of her sun hats from Florida.

  “Watch out for rattlesnakes,” Dalton said with a teasing grin. He took the lead, and she followed his broad back on their makeshift trail.

  “Oh, joy. I suppose scorpions can be hiding under these rocks as well.” Despite the sweat breaking out on her brow and her heavy breathing, she was enjoying the exercise. “We should have brought snacks and water bottles in a backpack.”

  “You’re right. Remember it for next time.”

  Her skin felt dry, and her hairs stood out from static electricity. Missing Florida’s humidity, Marla breathed through her nose to minimize moisture loss.

  She halted at the top of a rise. Small bushes dotted the terrain but not much else. Two hills rose on either side of them. She guessed they should stay to the left toward the town. If Eduardo, the guy who’d vanished, had seen something on the hillside, it might have been from there as Dalton had suggested.

  Unfortunately, the slope on that side consisted of solid chunks of rocks. They had to climb further, helping each other over one rise after another.

  “Ow,” she said, banging her toe on her last attempt as she half-crawled over a boulder.

  “We’re almost there.” Dalton surveyed the territory ahead. “This isn’t getting any easier. Who knows what could be hiding up here? They have coyotes and mountain lions in these parts.”

  “How nice of you to share that information. Hey, pick up that dead branch. You can use it to stir the dirt and chase any snakes away.”

  They roamed the area, peering at the town below and the mountainous vistas surrounding them. Marla took photos, but that’s all they came away with other than a few scrapes and bruises. They didn’t find any clues as to where Eduardo might have gone.

  As she headed back, Marla stumbled over a pile of rubble. A cold wind seemed to grab her, whistling in her ears. It smelled faintly like rust. She cast a nervous gaze around but saw nothing except rocks intermingled with various shrubs and interspersed with boulders.

  Maybe a ghostly presence was making itself known. She seemed to attract them, remembering the playful spirit in the elevator at Sugar Crest Plantation Resort on Florida’s west coast. Never mind the spirits in the old theatre below. She hurried away, pausing on a swath of gravel to admire the valley stretched out before them and the town nestled in its crease.

  At the horizon rose another mountain range in murky tones of blue. White wildflowers sprinkled the ground where she’d stopped. Overhead, cirrus clouds drifted across the azure sky.

  A sense of peace and tranquility invaded her. But all wasn’t as calm as it seemed. Secrets buried in these hills might prove deadly if the forest ranger’s death turned out to be more than an accident.

  “Let’s head back to the ranch,” she said, resuming their descent to Craggy Peak. “I’d like to relax this afternoon. We can go into town tomorrow to buy supplies.”

  “All right. I might sign up for a morning ride. Do you want to give it a try?”

  “I’ll need to take a lesson first. Maybe I should ask for a pony. I’m not thrilled about getting on a big, powerful horse.”

  “Why not? You ride me, don’t you?”

  His sexy grin lifted her spirits. “Come on, I’ll beat you downhill.”

  Marla was glad to take a breather at the ranch, but she couldn’t rest for long. She’d promised Dalton to meet him in the Jail House Saloon after he signed them both up for activities tomorrow morning with the wranglers.

  The lounge must have just opened, because when she peeked inside, no one else greeted her except for the bartender. A pretty girl with her hair pinned atop her head, she was busy polishing glassware behind a gleaming wood bar that took up an entire wall. Marla turned away, quietly shut the door and went to find her husband. He might be down by the corrals.

  Her nose wrinkled as she got closer to the horses. The cowhands must get used to the smell, she thought with a moue of displeasure. Horses in all colors roamed the fenced enclosure to her right. She marveled at the powerful beasts before moving on to the main staging building.

  Swatting away a fly, she studied its four closed doors. She doubted he’d gone into the Staff Only entry. That left the Wrangler’s Roost, Riders Entrance, or Game Room. Feeling like a player in a video game picking which door held the treasure, she chose the Riders Entrance.

  Inside was a tiled room with a couch facing a television console, armchairs, and a coffee table. This must be where guests waited before riding lessons. As no one was there, she tried the game room next. It held a ping pong table, billiards, and table hockey but no people at the moment. As for the Wrangler’s Roost, the door was locked.

  Could Dalton have entered the staff’s private enclave? She peeked inside a long hallway with saddles and riding helmets hung on the walls. It was open at the far end.

  Wondering if he’d be around back, she crunched along the gravel at the building’s side. Horses ranged inside the corral there, and she saw a wrangler whom
she hadn’t met, but her husband’s tall figure was nowhere in sight.

  Great, now what? Maybe Dalton had taken a different route to the Jail House Saloon. She spied a dirt path leading in that direction. It passed the tennis courts on one side and the rear of the reception hall on the other. The hum of an air-conditioning unit and an occasional horse whinny broke the stillness as she headed that way.

  It was pleasant out with the temperature reaching eighty. A maintenance guy strode past, identified by his logo baseball cap and the large radio hooked on his belt. They nodded greetings to each other. Bird twitters and a trickling fountain tempted her to explore a nearby butterfly garden, but she’d spotted two figures up ahead beside a pine tree in a secluded nook. A black horse was tied nearby.

  As she neared, she observed a familiar figure, but it wasn’t Dalton. Their conversation reached her as she trod closer, careful to keep her presence hidden. Sure enough, the bearded man was Jesse, the wrangler.

  “Raymond can’t blame the Donovans for everything,” the other guy said. He had a lean frame and a height over six feet. From what she could see of his face under his hat, she’d place him in his thirties. “We’re not responsible. When are you going to step in and show your hand?”

  “I need more information first. Did you talk to the old man?”

  “You know how he feels about things. Why don’t you pay him a visit?”

  “It’s not a good idea.”

  “That’s what you always say. If you keep playing this game, you’ll get exposed.”

  “I’ll take that risk. Once I have proof, I’ll come out in the open.”

  Were they discussing Hugh Donovan? What did that other guy mean by saying, we’re not responsible? Did he come from their ranch? What was Jesse doing talking to someone from there, anyway? And what kind of proof did he need?

  She moved off before they could spot her and ducked in between two buildings toward the main path. Lost in thought, she almost collided with Dalton coming the opposite way.

  “Here you are.” She grasped his arm. “I was looking for you.”

  “The receptionist was in a chatty mood when I went to sign us up for morning activities. I got delayed. Let’s head for the bar. I could use a drink, and I have news to share.”

  He held the saloon door open for her. “Do you want to sit inside or out on the terrace?” A covered patio held tables and chairs with a lovely view of the mountains. Other guests had already claimed seats there.

  “Let’s stay indoors. We can talk in that quiet corner by the fireplace.”

  She waited until they got seated and ordered their drinks. Meanwhile, she scanned the Indian paintings on the walls, the billiards table in another corner, the mannequin of a Mexican in a sombrero sitting in a chair, and the family with three kids who were the only other occupants. Country music played in the background.

  The smell of popcorn drifted from a machine near the entrance. It was free to guests, but she’d rather wait for dinner. However, she did dip her fingers into the carafe of spicy snack mix the bartender brought along with their drinks.

  She related the conversation she’d overheard between Jesse and the other guy.

  “So you think he’s colluding with someone from the Donovan ranch?” Dalton said, gripping his ale glass. A brooding expression crossed his face.

  Marla took a sip of Chardonnay. “That’s how it sounded. Clearly there’s more to Jesse than meets the eye. Maybe his name is as false as his hair color.”

  “I’ll see if I can get Wayne to tell me more about him.”

  “You might not have to bother.” She signaled the lady bartender. “Hi, can you answer a few questions for me? I have a lesson tomorrow with Jesse Parker. Do you know him?”

  The brunette’s eyes twinkled. “Sure do. He’s a hunk, but don’t tell him I said so.”

  “How long has he been working here?” she asked, even though she knew the answer.

  “Five years, I believe. The guy knows his business, better than some of the older wranglers. He must have been brought up on a ranch.”

  “You think so? Where is he from, Patty?” Marla had read the girl’s name tag.

  “Dunno. He doesn’t talk much about himself, but I imagine he put that info on his job application. He’s qualified to teach you, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  “Where does the fellow live?” Dalton picked out a few cashews from the carafe. “I gather most of the employees don’t reside on the ranch.”

  “Most of us live in town.” Patty sank into an empty seat at their table. “You might want to ask Juanita. He’s sweet on her.”

  “Oh? I thought it was the other way around.” Marla watched for her reaction.

  “Jesse tries not to show it, but you can see how they feel about each other whenever they sneak a moment together. I notice things from the patio.”

  “Did you spot him out there earlier talking to a stranger?”

  “Sorry, I was busy getting the bar set up for the evening.”

  Realizing this discussion was a dead end, Marla tried another tack. Dalton seemed content to let her take the lead. “Some people are saying this place is jinxed, like the ghost town up the mountain. Have you had any unusual incidents in the saloon?”

  Her lips pursed. “Huh. I came in one morning, and a keg had emptied all over the floor. I guess you can count that as unusual. I figured I’d left the spigot open by mistake, but I always double check everything before closing each evening.”

  “Were the doors locked when you came to work?”

  “Yes, they were. Why, do you think somebody may have broken in here and opened the keg? But then they must have used a key.”

  Dalton gave Marla an oblique glance. “Don’t your maintenance men have master keys to use in case of emergencies?”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “So if there’s a saboteur around, he could get in anywhere,” Marla concluded, not liking the implications. So far the incidents had been merely mischievous. What would happen if things escalated? And what was the guy’s purpose—to chase guests away or to annoy the staff?

  “Did you hear about the flood in the dining room? Something similar happened, only it was a water heater valve that opened seemingly by itself,” Dalton informed Patty. “Do you think someone might be causing trouble on purpose?”

  As more customers entered, Patty rose. “Don’t ask me. I haven’t got a clue.”

  “Thanks for talking to us,” Marla called as she strode away to seat the newcomers.

  “It seems as though someone is methodically going around and causing mischief,” Dalton remarked, popping more nuts into his mouth.

  “If you’re counting the ghost town, I wouldn’t call our near-miss in the theatre a minor incident. We could have been seriously hurt.”

  “You’re right. Janice the receptionist said there hasn’t been anyone new on the ranch staff in the past year. People like working here and hang onto their jobs. And everyone seems to like Wayne and Carol, so a personal grudge against one of them appears unlikely.”

  “Raymond owns both properties. It’s more likely he’s the target. Do you think he’s right in blaming the other rancher?”

  “Didn’t you just overhear Jesse saying the Donovans aren’t at fault?”

  “How would Jesse know, unless he has reason to suspect someone else? Anyway, I’m basing my theories on supposition. And how does Raymond’s relationship to the dead forest ranger fit into this picture?”

  “Those are all valid questions.”

  Then how about this one, Marla thought but didn’t voice aloud. Why hasn’t your uncle once mentioned your mother, Kate? What happened between them that he wouldn’t attend our wedding?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  * * *

  Solving crimes was easier than getting on a horse, Marla discovered early Tuesday morning at her first riding lesson. Dalton had taken off at seven-fifteen for the breakfast ride, leaving her to enjoy the buffet alone until her nine o’c
lock engagement. She hadn’t realized so many choices in horsemanship were offered to guests. Loping, walking, and intermediate rides or lessons were available as well as grooming fundamentals and team penning.

  Wearing jeans, sneakers, and a long-sleeved top for the chillier morning air, she entered the door marked Riders Entrance and took a seat until a wrangler came to get her. Inside, the air-conditioning unit hummed as she waited with several other victims who seemed to know each other and stood around in clusters. She sat wringing her hands and wishing she’d signed up for a massage instead. She’d only agreed to this activity so she could start accompanying Dalton on the gentler rides.

  “Don’t you have a pony for me?” she asked the wrangler who’d summoned her. She had been fabricating when she’d told the bartender her lesson was with Jesse. This guy’s name was Tom Mallory. Outside, she eyed the brown creature he’d selected with trepidation, while other horses snorted and whinnied in the corral. “This horse is too spirited.”

  “Nah, you’ll do fine. Candy is real gentle. Put on this helmet and then place your foot right here.” He showed her how to get on the horse.

  Marla mounted with his assistance and sat there, wondering what she should do next. Tom explained the different parts of the saddle and some basic horse lore. Then he led her around the corral while she grew accustomed to her seat. It took a while to get the hang of pressing in with her thighs as he taught her. She suspected she’d be sore after being locked into this position. Muscles that she didn’t normally use were getting a workout.

  By the end of the hour, she was able to trot around the fenced enclosure if not with ease, at least with more confidence. She could probably handle a walking ride but needed more lessons to feel comfortable going faster.

  “How long have you been working here?” she asked Tom during one of their rounds. She patted the horse, pleased with Candy’s tolerance of her mistakes. The horse nickered in response, as though approving of her awkward efforts.