Trouble at the Red Pueblo

by Liz Adair

  She sniffed again, and Spider dragged out the fresh handkerchief he had stuck in his pocket that morning. He held it in front of Dorrie where she could see it without looking at him, and she took it with murmured thanks.

  She pulled off one of her gloves and stuck it in her back pocket before blowing her nose. “Truth is, I didn’t expect to still be here. I put the last of my things in my pickup this morning. I was going to load my horse and leave, but when I hooked up the trailer, something was wrong. I ain’t got no lights.”

  “I could take a look-see, if you’d like,” Spider offered. “Where’s the trailer?”

  She gestured behind her. “Back by the stable.”

  “Let me get my tools.” He walked to his truck, got his gloves and toolbox from behind the seat, and he and Laurie followed Dorrie around the house. In back he found a machine shed, a four-stall stable, and three corrals. The largest of the three held a palomino mare, standing ears pricked forward.

  Spider walked toward the trailer parked near the gate. He knelt down and pulled the trailer electrical harness out of the receptacle on the pickup and used his test light to make sure there was power in the hookup. There was, so he turned his attention to the trailer, tracing wires and methodically ruling out problems. It took him fifteen minutes, but he finally found a broken wire at the back of the trailer. He fixed the connection, bound it up with electrical tape, and went to find Dorrie and his wife.

  They were in the corral. Laurie was bent over with the palomino’s hoof between her knees. The two women had their heads together as Laurie traced the edge of the shoe. As he set his toolbox on the top rail, she looked up. “Guess what? Dorrie has Taffy’s sister.”

  The information took a minute to sink in. He leaned his arms on the railing. “How did you find that out?”

  Laurie put down the hoof and straightened up, a big smile on her face. “Dorrie showed me how Goldie would come at a whistle, and I saw her throwing out her hoof the way Taffy does.”

  “There’s not one in a hunnerd would ‘a noticed that,” Dorrie said. “You got to have a good eye.”

  Laurie patted the palomino’s neck. “Or a horse with the same condition.”

  Spider frowned. “Having the same condition doesn’t mean this is Taffy’s sister.”

  “No, but when I saw it, I asked where she got Goldie.”

  Dorrie broke in. “Ain’t no big coincidence that we both went to Sunrise Ranch when we were looking for a good horse. They’re the biggest horse breeder around. Closer to us, but Lincoln County’s just a hunnerd miles away.”

  Laurie picked up the thread. “Remember when the owner told us that Taffy was the second foal with this condition?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, Goldie was the first.”

  “Huh.” Spider eyed the palomino. “Sounds like something that belongs in Ripley’s Believe it or Not.”

  “I was just telling her about the farrier Jack uses. Dorrie’s got someone that’s pretty good, but Jack’s guy custom orders shoes that he’s able to modify more easily.”

  Spider picked up his toolbox. “Did you tell Dorrie why we’re here?”

  Dorrie looked from Laurie to Spider, the smile no longer lighting her face. “No. She didn’t.”

  Spider looked around for some shade. Three cottonwoods towered over a stock tank, casting a large shadow that promised to be a few degrees cooler. “Let me put away my tools, and then let’s sit over there and talk. You’ve got lights now, by the way.”

  As he walked away, Spider heard Dorrie asking Laurie, “What’s this about?”

  When he returned, he found them sitting on the wide edge of the huge concrete watering tank, deep in conversation. He hunkered down in front of them, forearm on one knee, and waited for Laurie to finish telling Dorrie how they were called to help out the museum in Fredonia.

  Dorrie again looked from one to the other. “But what’s that got to do with me?”

  “The lawsuits that have been crippling the museum are bogus,” Laurie said. “They’re made-up, all because someone wants land that the museum owner has. This person is trying to get the museum director in a bad financial position, so he has to sell his land quickly. This person can then pick it up for a song.”

  Dorrie pushed her heel into the wet earth in front of her. “That sounds a little farfetched, and I still don’t see why you’re here talking to me.”

  Spider spoke without thinking. “The person behind the lawsuits was Austin Lee.”

  Dorrie’s freckles stood out as her face went pale. Her eyes and mouth got a bluish tinge around them, and she looked shrunken and defenseless all of a sudden. Spider was immediately sorry he had spoken without preparing her.

  Laurie moved closer and put an arm around Dorrie. “Are you all right?” When Dorrie nodded, she went on. “We’ve found that he’s left a trail of broken hearts behind him. He’s used the same tactic each time, which is to ingratiate himself with a woman, get her to trust him, maybe fall in love with him, and then use her to get what he wants, which is usually prime real estate at a bargain price.”

  Dorrie closed her eyes, folded her arms and hunched over. Her breathing became shallow.

  “Go get a water bottle,” Laurie whispered to Spider.

  He got up and trotted back to the pickup, glad Laurie was there to troubleshoot. Give him a car chase or a fistfight. That was easier than watching a good woman go through something like this.

  When he returned, Laurie was rinsing his handkerchief in the stock tank. “Can you tell us when you met Austin?” she asked as she bathed Dorrie’s brow and the back of her neck. “Tell us how it happened.”

  Dorrie leaned forward and put elbows on her knees and her face in her hands. “It was over a year ago. He drove in one day saying he was lost.”

  There was a long pause. Neither Spider nor Laurie prompted her to go on.

  Finally Dorrie spoke. “I was the one that was lost, from the moment I saw him.” She gave a great, ragged sigh and sat up. “He came back to see me again and again. We rode all over the ranch. He went with me to see my dad at the old folks’ home.” She laughed, a short, mirthless sound. “He helped me make decisions, and when dad died, he said he’d probate the will for free, since he was a lawyer.”

  Spider spoke gently. “Did he ask you to sign a power of attorney, so he could do the probate?”

  Dorrie nodded. “He said it would be so much easier.”

  “Then what did he do?” Laurie rubbed Dorrie’s broad back.

  “As soon as probate was over, he sold the ranch for me.”

  Spider didn’t know whether to give her a break or forge on, but he figured it was like taking off a Band-aid. Better to get it over. “Did he sell it to a company called Texas Capital Investments?”

  Dorrie nodded. “How did you know?”

  Spider’s mouth felt dry. “What did you get for the ranch?”

  “A hunnerd thousand dollars.”

  Spider heard Laurie’s intake of breath, and he asked, “For how many acres?”

  Dorrie stared at Spider as if that was something he should know. “It’s a section— 640 acres.”

  “With good water?” Laurie sounded like she was afraid to hear the answer.

  “We’ve got a spring right about the middle. Sweetest water you’ll find.”

  Laurie let out a sigh. “Oh, Dorrie. I’m so sorry. I don’t know if anything can be done.”

  Dorrie drew her freckled brows together. “About what?”

  Laurie swept her hand in an arc, taking in the house, the outbuildings, the rangeland. “Your ranch was worth maybe ten times what you got for it.”

  Spider grunted. “Right next to this golf course and close to the freeway? And with water? More than that. Way more.”

  Dorrie blinked. “I don’t care about that.”

  Laurie and Spider spoke together. “You don’t?”

  Dorrie shook her head. “Nah. I found a little place just south of St. George. It’s got stables
and an arena and a little trailer house on it. I can board and train horses there. It’ll do me just fine.”

  Laurie put her arm around the larger woman. “Dorrie, listen to me. Austin Lee is building up his personal fortune on the wreckage of other people’s lives. He ruined a family in St. George, and after the daughter committed suicide because of what he did, he ended up living in her house.”

  Dorrie’s eyes narrowed. “What was her name?”

  “The girl?” Laurie looked to Spider for the answer.

  He supplied it. “Mary Defrain. They lost Defrain Estates to Austin Lee.”

  Dorrie flung her arms out and jumped up. “I won’t listen to another word against him. I don’t know you people. You come here and say things against Austin, and you got no proof.” She reached down, picked up a rock and flung it, hitting the corral fence with a solid thwack. Trey jumped up, whining, and hopped over to stand by Dorrie.

  Spider held his hands up, palms out. “Whoa, Dorrie. Easy. We’re just trying to figure things out, here. When was the last time you saw Austin?”

  Dorrie turned on him, fists clenched, teeth bared. “Why are you asking that? You. Don’t. Know. Nothing.”

  Laurie stepped between Dorrie and Spider, touching her arm and speaking softly. “We’ll go now.” She looked over her shoulder at him and jerked her head in a way that said go.

  Spider went. As he walked away, he heard Laurie ask, “Will you tell me the address of where you’re going to live?”

  He got in the pickup, started it, and turned on the air. Laurie joined him a few minutes later, carrying the water bottle and handkerchief. She climbed in, shut the door, and stashed the water bottle in the cup holder. “Thanks for the AC. I’ll bet Mesquite is a good fifteen degrees hotter than Kanab.”

  “Never mind that. What happened after I left?”

  She spread the handkerchief out to dry on the seat beside them. “I asked where she was moving to. She couldn’t remember the address, but she said you turn on that big interchange before you get to St. George and go about a mile. Her road is just past a gravel pit. She’s a half a mile in.”

  “Can you write that down? I’ll never remember it.”

  Spider gave her the pen from his shirt pocket, and she picked up the manila folder with Dorcas Coleman on the tab. As Laurie scribbled, Spider turned the pickup around and headed back out over the cattle guard. “Was she doing okay when you left her? She seemed really upset.”

  “She was upset with us. She’s very protective of Austin, and she’s not going to let anyone paint him as anything but a knight in shining armor. He came and helped her out during a difficult time.”

  “And he stole her land.”

  She gave him back his pen. “I don’t think that matters. She was shaken up by our news about him at first, but I think that was because she hasn’t seen him for a good while. When you’re so in love with someone, just hearing his name can make you feel faint.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. It usually happens when you’re in seventh grade, but I don’t think Dorrie has had a lot of social experience.” Laurie adjusted the vent, so it wasn’t blowing right on her. “What’s more, she’d probably be glad if you told her that Texas Capital Investments was owned by Austin Lee. She’d be glad to think of him having her ranch.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Love very rarely makes sense.”

  “You said she hasn’t seen him in a great while, but she wouldn’t tell us when that was.” Spider said that more to himself, and Laurie didn’t comment.

  They drove in silence until they got back on the freeway heading for St. George. “She’s really got an arm,” he said. “Did you see her throw that rock?”

  “Yeah I did.” Laurie laughed. “Do you think she was aiming for that board?”

  “I’ll bet she was. The Lincoln County Lynx should recruit her for their slow pitch team.”

  Laurie smiled and nodded in agreement.

  Silence again.

  “So, how do we convince her?” Spider looked over at Laurie. “What’s it gonna take?”

  Laurie shot him a puzzled look. “To join the softball team? Why are you even thinking about that?”

  “Not the softball team. How do we convince her she’s been had?”

  Laurie thought a moment. “Why do you have to convince her of anything?”

  “Because—”

  “No, listen, Spider. What will it accomplish? It won’t get the ranch back. It won’t make her life better. What it will do is destroy any dreams she’s holding onto. She’s got a plan about how she’s going to go on. Leave her be.”

  Spider gritted his teeth. “How are we going to get this piece of cow dung held responsible for what he’s done to people’s lives?”

  “I don’t think that’s your job. You were asked to come and help the museum. You’ve made a good start on that.”

  “Huh.” Spider thought about that. “The trick is to make sure he doesn’t come back with some other plan. Seems the way to do that would be to get him off the street for good.”

  “I agree, but there’s a more important question to consider right now.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Are you going to feed me? I’m hungry. I meant to bring some of Amy’s cookies.”

  “Amy’s phantom cookies. You’ve talked a lot about them, but I’ve yet to see even one.”

  “You didn’t seem much interested last night.” She pointed at an oncoming off ramp. “There’s a drive-in. Let’s grab a taco or something.”

  Spider did as she asked, and half an hour later they were back on their way. As they passed through St. George, Spider told Laurie what Bobby had said about raising his kids on the ranch, and they spent most of the way back to Fredonia talking about that possibility.

  As they passed the Kaibab Paiute Reservation marker, Laurie looked at her watch. “Do you know where the petroglyphs were that Karam was going to look at?”

  “He said they were north of Fredonia, but I got the idea it was on a dirt road.” Spider hit the heel of his hand on the steering wheel. “Oh, shoot!”

  “What?”

  “I forgot to tell Karam about the gas gauge, how it’s empty at a quarter tank.”

  “How much gas was there in the car? Do you remember?”

  “A little more than a quarter tank. See if you can get him on the phone.”

  Laurie dialed, but there was no answer. As they came into Fredonia, they kept a sharp eye out for an orange car pulled off the road. “Should we stop at the museum?” she asked as they drove past.

  “Let’s go on to the hotel and see if he’s there. He may be working and have his phone turned off.”

  Coming over the hill just after the Utah line, they passed a boarded up restaurant on the left, its flower beds clogged with tumbleweeds. Spider was scanning the area on both sides of the road, and something orange registered in his peripheral vision, just a flash, and it was gone.

  Spider braked hard and turned into the vacant parking lot, slinging Laurie against the restraint of her seat belt. She grabbed the panic handle with one hand and pointed with the other. “There’s the Yugo behind the building. What’s it doing there?”

  They bumped over the weed-infested cracks in the parking lot, heading to the rear of the restaurant where the back end of the Yugo stuck out about a foot. The driver’s side front door stood open, and Spider had a bad feeling in his gut.

  SPIDER STOPPED THE pickup and opened his door. “Stay here a minute.”

  “Would he have pulled clear around here if he ran out of gas?”

  Spider bailed out of the pickup, not pausing to answer. He approached the car cautiously, scanning the area but seeing no one. When he came in full view of the driver’s side, a pair of legs was visible beneath the open door. The crease in the khaki trousers was sharp; the shoes were shined. “Oh, no.” Spider muttered. “Karam.”

  He was around the door in two quick steps, drawing in a sharp breat
h when he saw his friend lying senseless, sprawled across the bucket seat under the steering wheel.

  “What’s wrong?” Laurie jumped out of the truck.

  “It’s Karam. Can you come help me?”

  She was there in a moment, covering her mouth with her hands when she saw their young friend so pale and still. “Is he all right?”

  “He’s got a pulse, but I can’t get him to wake up. Help me move him to the backseat.”

  “That will be too hard in this little bitty car,” Laurie said. “I’ll move the pickup into the shade. We can lay him in the bed.”

  “That’ll work.”

  Spider watched as Laurie climbed in the pickup and deftly maneuvered it into the shadow of the building. He let down the tailgate, and she emerged from the cab with the travel pillow and a fleece blanket she had unearthed from behind the seat. “Good girl,” he said, walking back to where Karam lay. “Spread it across the back.”

  “Want me to help carry him?”

  “I think it will be easier if I do it myself.” Spider crouched and slid his arms under Karam’s thighs and shoulders.

  “Lift with your knees,” Laurie cautioned.

  Spider grunted as he stood, taking care not to knock the unconscious man’s head against the steering wheel. He took two steps back and said through gritted teeth, “Close the door.”

  Laurie gave the door a push and followed Spider to the pickup where he laid Karam’s inert form on the fleece with his head on the pillow.

  Laurie got the water bottle and handkerchief that she had used to wipe Dorrie’s brow earlier. “This isn’t very hygienic, but it’s better than nothing.” She wet the cloth and began bathing Karam’s face. “Oh! His eyes are open.”

  “Hello, Karam,” Spider said, looking into the young man’s blank eyes.

  Karam blinked, his gaze resting first on Spider then on Laurie. “Where am I?” he whispered.

  “Right now, we’re halfway to Fredonia,” she said. “We found you in the Yugo, parked behind an abandoned restaurant.”

  Karam stared at Laurie, obviously trying to make sense of her words.

  “Don’t worry about it now,” she said, patting his hand.