Alberta Alibi

by Dayle Gaetz

  Alberta

  Alibi

  Alberta

  Alibi

  Dayle Campbell Gaetz

  ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS

  Other books in this mystery series

  by Dayle Campbell Gaetz

  Mystery from History

  Barkerville Gold

  Copyright © 2005 Dayle Campbell Gaetz

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  National Library of Canada Cataloguing in Publication Data

  Gaetz, Dayle, 1947-

  Alberta alibi / Dayle Campbell Gaetz.

  ISBN 1-55143-404-0

  I. Title.

  PS8563.A25317A64 2005 jC813’.54 C2005-904764-X

  First published in the United States, 2005

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2005931361

  Summary: Sheila, Rusty and Katie race to save Sheila’s father

  in a fight with unscrupulous developers.

  Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program (BPIDP), the Canada Council for the Arts, and the British Columbia Arts Council.

  Cover design by Lynn O’Rourke

  Cover illustration by Ljuba Levstek

  Orca Book Publishers

  PO Box 5626, Stn. B

  Victoria, BC Canada

  V8R 6S4

  Orca Book Publishers

  PO Box 468

  Custer, WA USA

  98240-0468

  www.orcabook.com

  Printed and bound in Canada

  08 07 06 05 • 4 3 2 1

  To Jupiter

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to thank Travel Alberta and the helpful folk who work there for providing so much useful information and answering all of my questions. I wish to thank, as well, all the hardworking people involved with the Nature Conservancy of Canada. Their ongoing efforts ensure that key areas of Canada’s wildlife habitat will be preserved for generations to come. Special thanks, as always, to my editor, Andrew Wooldridge, for his invaluable suggestions and advice.

  Contents

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  1

  Almost there, almost there, almost there. The words bounced back and forth inside her skull, over and over, until she wanted to scream. Instead she turned the volume up another notch. Music surged through the earphones, crashed into her brain. But the words only got louder, keeping time to the music. Almost there! Almost there! Almost there!

  Sheila couldn’t stand it another second. She had to get out of here. But how do you escape from the backseat of a pickup truck that’s roaring down an Alberta highway towing a trailer? Katie beside her, Rusty next to Katie, Katie’s grandma in the front, GJ driving. Too many people! How could she possibly think?

  She pressed her hands against the sides of her head. She felt like yanking those stupid yellow earphones off and tossing them on the floor. But if she did, everyone would stare at her and want to know what was wrong. From the corner of her eye she saw Katie put down her mystery novel and turn toward her with that curious tilt to her head that meant Katie knew something was up.

  Sheila refused to look at her. She knew Katie’s forehead would be wrinkled and her dark brown eyes narrowed in suspicion. If Katie started asking questions, it would be impossible to shut her up. Sheila forced herself to calm down. She took a deep breath and made her face look relaxed so she wouldn’t need to talk. She could not talk right now, not to anyone, not even her best friend. Her head was jammed too full and she needed time to think.

  Sheila turned down the volume, right down to nothing, and snapped her fingers as if she was keeping time to the music instead of those two words, Almost there. She turned away from Katie and looked out the small side window.

  They weren’t in British Columbia anymore. Actually, they hadn’t been for a couple of days. Sheila had to admit that the restored gold-rush town at Barkerville, where they had been the week before, was way less boring than she expected. She could almost understand why Rusty was so into history. And she didn’t even mind that Katie got them all involved in another of her cases. As long as she kept busy, Sheila didn’t need to think about where they were headed next.

  After Barkerville they drove through the Yellowhead Pass, turned south at Jasper and stopped at the Athabasca Glacier. They stayed overnight at a campground high in the mountains and rode out onto the Columbia Icefield in one of those bus things with great monster tires. That was fun.

  Then they drove the parkway that wound south through all those amazing mountains to Banff. On the way they saw two black bears, a moose, loads of bighorn sheep and tons of wapiti.

  This afternoon, after lunch and shopping in Calgary, they turned south onto Highway 2. That’s when it hit her. Wham! Right in the face. They really were in Alberta. The Rocky Mountains, a giant wall of jagged rock capped with snow, loomed above the low, forested foothills to her right. On her other side, the foothills flattened into grassland that rolled on forever under a sky so blue it brought tears to her eyes.

  That’s when she clamped her earphones on and cranked up her CD player. No one could talk to her, but she couldn’t stop herself from looking out the window. Everything looked familiar and different at the same time. How could that be? She tried not to look when they passed High River and turned west again, heading straight for those high peaks, rock gray against that pure blue sky.

  But not for long. It seemed like no time before they reached Highway 22—“The Cowboy Trail” some people called it—and GJ swung the truck and trailer onto it. After that, time slowed down. Near the little town of Longview, Sheila saw a road sign ahead. It pointed to the Bar U Ranch, a National Historic Site. Her stomach fluttered.

  Almost there.

  Sheila hadn’t set foot in Alberta since she was ten, just over two years ago, and she had missed the ranch every single day. She missed Silver too. But more than anything, she missed her dad. And that was the scariest part because Sheila knew her dad didn’t miss her anywhere near as much as she missed him. If he did, he would have come to see her once in a while, as he had promised.

  “You’ll be less than two hours from Calgary by plane,” he said just before she and Mom drove away from the ranch forever. “I’ll see you every month.”

  Right. He had flown out to Victoria exactly three times. And the last time she saw him was last year, before Christmas. He didn’t even want to see her on Christmas Day!

  That’s why her stomach was doing jumping jacks all over the place. It was so nice of Katie and Rusty’s grandparents to drive her to the ranch so she could visit for a few days. But her dad hadn’t exactly leapt up and down with joy when she talked to him on the phone. All he said was “When did you say you’d be here?”

  “Dad, I already told you twice. July 21.”

  “Oh! Well, I guess you’ll want your old room?”

  You can’t beat that for enthusiasm.

  If Dad didn’t want to be bothered with her, at least she’d be able to ride Silver. Maybe he would be happy to see her. The t
hought of her beautiful, golden horse brought a smile to Sheila’s lips.

  “What’s funny?” Katie demanded.

  Sheila turned back from the window. “Huh?”

  “You were laughing. What’s funny?” Katie spoke really loudly so Sheila would be able to hear over the nonexistent music.

  “I’m not laughing, I’m smiling. I like this song.” She snapped her fingers a few times for Katie’s sake, then turned up the volume. She smiled again, partly because she really did like this song and partly because she had Katie and Rusty so totally fooled.

  They were convinced she listened to modern rock music. No one had guessed her terrible secret.

  She was into country music. It was the only way Sheila knew of to feel close to her dad. Outside the window, everything started looking way too familiar, so she closed her eyes. She snapped her fingers, just in case someone was looking at her.

  “Almost there!” GJ called out.

  Oh no! The words had gone. Now they came rushing back. She opened her eyes. She wasn’t ready. She didn’t want to see him. Maybe they could just drive on by. Turn around and head for Saskatchewan. But there was the wooden sign, same as always, nailed to a fencepost at the end of their long, winding driveway. The Triple W Ranch. You’d think he would have crossed off the “Triple” by now and made it The Lone W Ranch. Her dad said the sign used to say “The Waltons,” but everyone laughed when they saw it because of some old TV show or something.

  “Is this it?” GJ asked, slowing down. He glanced over his shoulder.

  Sheila was tempted to shake her head. No. Keep going. Don’t stop. Please! Instead she nodded at GJ and stared down at her hands. The music wailed in her ears. She hated it. She switched it off and stared out the window. Her throat hurt.

  Almost there.

  2

  There it was, same as ever, on top of a small rise, surrounded by cottonwood trees. A big, sprawling, two-story house with white wood siding and a covered, wraparound porch. Wide windows overlooked ripening hayfields.

  Sheila’s heart pounded against her ribs. Her mouth went dry. What would her father say? What would he do? Would he run out the door and give her a hug? Would he say he was sorry about forgetting her birthday last month? Would he tell her he was busy and ask if she could come back some other time?

  They pulled into the flat, dusty farmyard. GJ swung the wheel and pulled truck and trailer to a stop beside the barn.

  For the next minute no one moved. Sheila held her breath and listened to her heart beat-beat-beating.

  “Sheila?” Katie tapped on the plastic earphone, loud against her ear. “Sheila, turn off the CD, we’re here!” Sheila bit her lip, took off the headphones. By then Gram had opened the passenger door and slid to the ground. She pulled open the narrow back door for Sheila. “Let’s go find your dad!”

  Hot dust filled her nostrils as she crossed the yard with Katie and Gram. Dust and manure and the familiar warm, dry smell of sun-baked fields. Two steps up to the wooden porch, five steps to the door. It still looked the same, this house she was born in. But different too, almost like the home of a stranger. It didn’t seem quite as big as she remembered, and she hadn’t noticed how badly the paint was worn from the wooden porch or how the boards creaked beneath her feet when she stepped on them. She reached the front door. Bright red. It was supposed to be green. She stopped and stared at it.

  Should she knock or just walk in? She couldn’t decide so she knocked and turned the doorknob at the same time. Except that the doorknob wouldn’t turn. And no one came to the door. They were locked out. Now what? This was the one thing that never once occurred to her. Sheila had known he might not greet her with open arms. He might not be as pleased to see her as she wanted him to be, but she never thought he would simply go away and lock the door.

  They never locked the door when she lived here, not in the daytime.

  “I expect he must have been called away by something that couldn’t wait,” Gram said, slipping an arm around Sheila’s shoulders. “Let’s go to the trailer and make ourselves some iced tea while we wait. I don’t know about you, but I’m parched.”

  “Me too.” Katie sounded artificially cheerful. “And let’s have some of those cookies we bought at the bakery in Calgary.”

  Sheila nodded. She couldn’t speak. They should never have come. Her father didn’t want her here, that’s why he took off. Either that or he forgot. She really didn’t know which was worse.

  They took folding chairs from the trailer and set them up in the shade of cottonwoods, where they settled to sip iced tea and munch cookies. Sheila didn’t sip or munch. She sat quietly, staring into her glass, watching the ice cubes melt. She wanted to go home.

  “I’m sure he’ll be along soon,” Gram said again.

  GJ looked glum. He leaned forward in his chair, his forearms resting on his knees, and stared straight ahead at two sleek, black horses in the corral. Sheila had never seen them before. She wondered where Silver was, but couldn’t summon the energy to go look for him. Rusty polished off another cookie and put his head back, gazing up through leafy green foliage to patches of blue sky. A little beam of sunlight landed on the top of his head and lit up his red hair like fire. “I don’t mind staying here for a few days,” he said, “but you’ll never catch me on a horse.”

  Katie occasionally glanced up from her book, a sad look in her dark brown eyes, then lost herself in the mystery story again.

  “Someone’s coming!” GJ said. He stood up and took a few steps toward the fields, his hands on his hips.

  Sheila leapt out of her chair and darted to the corral fence. She stepped onto the bottom rail and rested her arms on the top one. “It’s Silver!” she cried. A golden horse galloped toward them, closely followed by a cloud of dust. Sheila smiled. That’s what happened. Silver must have been out to pasture and her dad had gone to get him for her, but he took longer than expected to find her horse and now, here he was.

  As horse and rider drew closer, Sheila’s smile sagged. The rider looked small, way too small to be her father, who was a tall, broad-shouldered man. Silver slowed to a trot and then a walk as he neared the fence; his long tail swished bright silver in the sunlight. The rider wore jeans, a white T-shirt and a black cowboy hat. He dismounted, opened a gate, led Silver through and started up the driveway toward them. Definitely too small to be her father, he was only a boy, no bigger than Rusty.

  Sheila felt like running up to him, demanding to know who he was and why he was riding her horse. Why did he have her dad’s hat? But she remained very still on the fence, eyes narrowed, watching.

  Katie came up beside her. “Who’s he?”

  “How should I know!” Sheila snapped. She wished Katie would leave her alone. Why didn’t they all just go away and leave her alone?

  The minute he was led into the yard, Silver whinnied and pranced with excitement. He pulled on the reins, trying to get to Sheila. “Easy now.” The boy held Silver back. He took off his hat and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. He had a tanned, square face, straight brown hair and gray eyes that looked wary. He glowered at the five of them. “Who are you?” he demanded.

  “Who are you?” Katie ran toward him. “And what are you doing with my friend’s horse?”

  The boy looked from Katie to Sheila, frowning.

  Then his mouth and eyes got round at the same time. “Are you Sheila? Wow! Chris was right, you do have a million freckles. So how come you’re here today?”

  Even if Sheila was ready to answer, she didn’t have a chance with Katie on the job. “She said she’d be here on the twenty-first, didn’t she? And today’s the twenty-first. So who are you anyway?”

  “Chris said you were coming tomorrow,” the boy said.

  Chris. Her dad, Chris Walton. Who was this kid? Before Sheila could ask, there was a screech of tires on the paved road. Seconds later an old beat-up truck came bumping and rattling up the driveway, almost lost in billowing dust. It skidded to a halt near th
e trailer. The driver’s door flew open and out burst her dad.

  “Sheila!” he called. He whipped off his black cowboy hat; his light brown hair flew in the air and settled over his forehead as he ran toward her. “I lost track of the date! Didn’t realize it was the twentyfirst till I got to town and went to the bank. I’m sorry! I wanted to be here when you arrived.” He had reached the fence by then and flung his arms open to give her a hug.

  Sheila clung to the top rail and shied away from him. She looked at the boy. “Who is he and what is he doing with my horse?”

  Her father’s arms fell to his sides. “I guess I should have told you sooner,” he began, “but I didn’t know how to get started. I decided it might be best if you could meet him in person.”

  She waited.

  “This is Huntley James. Remember the Arnesens?”

  Sheila nodded. The Arnesens were a really nice elderly couple who owned a neighboring ranch. “So?”

  “So Mr. Arnesen died quite suddenly last year and their daughter, Adele, came home from Toronto to help her mother. But just recently Mrs. Arnesen had to go into a nursing home, and Adele is, uh, dealing with the ranch. I knew Adele from school, we’re old friends.”

  “So?” Sheila asked again. Why was he telling her all this stuff? What did it have to do with this, what’s his name, this Hartley? She glared at the boy, who still clung to Silver’s reins.

  “Huntley is Adele’s son and he’s…that is, she’s…”

  “What!?!”

  “Huntley’s staying with me while Adele’s away.”

  “I see. So you’re babysitting him.”

  “You could say that, yeah.”

  “I’m helping out on the ranch,” Huntley said firmly. Then he went on talking as if no one else was there. “Chris, did you hear about the night watchman over at the development?”