by Sylvia Nobel
I read her the fragmentary information on the envelope and she let out a squeal of frustration. “What in the Sam Hill is that? B somethin’ R somethin’, c-h-e somethin’ Society?”
“That’s all I’ve got. I know it’s going to take some work, but I don’t have time to research it right now, so I’m counting on you to help me out.”
Ginger promised to tackle the assignment in two shakes of a dog’s tail and call me as soon as she found anything. More upbeat now, I thanked her then pressed the switch hook and dialed the Starfire Ranch. Tally’s sister, Ronda, answered and told me to hang on while she ran outside to get him. Moments later, he was on the line.
“Well, well. Isn’t this a nice surprise?”
The sound of his pleasant baritone made me smile. “Hey there, Talverson, you can’t get away from me that easily.”
“Getting away from you was never my intention, and if you’d waited two minutes, I planned to call you.”
“I couldn’t wait.”
“That does wonders for my ego.” His voice was warmly suggestive. “Wish I had time to come and see you before I head south.”
“Me too.” For a few seconds I daydreamed about the appealing possibility, but then reality intruded. “Lovely idea, but listen, I called to tell you that I have to drive Audrey to Bisbee shortly. I don’t know what time we’ll be back.”
“What’s in Bisbee?”
“Her lawyer and accountant. And by the way, how did you manage to file your story so early? I thought you were going to stay through this morning’s practice session.”
“Couldn’t. It got cancelled.”
“Why?”
“Didn’t you hear about the big storm last night? We damn near got washed off the mountain.”
“No, but then, I’m not surprised. This place is kind of like being in a time warp. I haven’t read a paper, listened to the radio or watched TV since I left Castle Valley. Honest to gosh, it’s like being thrown back into the horse and buggy era.”
“Sounds peaceful. Say, Tugg filled me in on his idea of you two job sharing.”
“Oh, pooh. I wanted to surprise you with that news myself.”
“I’m not surprised,” he said with an undertone of resignation, “and from what he tells me, it sounds like you’re diving into something much bigger than you first thought.”
“A lot of things have happened since Tuesday. It gets better.” When I told him about the gutted rabbit, his voice grew somber. “I don’t like the sound of this one bit, and I sure don’t like the idea of you tramping around alone at that old mine. You’re not planning to explore any open shafts, I hope.”
“Are you kidding? With my claustrophobia, that’s the last thing I’d do. But let me tell you the rest.” After I relayed my suspicions about Jesse, Willow, Marta and Bitsy, he let out a long, low whistle. “But, as of now, you don’t really have anything tangible to link one of them to old man Morgan’s death?”
“Nothing that’s confirmed yet, but I’m working on it. Lucky for me I’ve got a new partner helping me sniff out clues.”
“Who? The Morgan girl?”
“No, a cat.”
“What?”
He chuckled at my inadvertent discovery of the barrette, but when I mentioned the disturbing scene upstairs with D.J., and the strange happenstance surrounding my most recent eavesdropping episode between him and Archie Lawton, his next words were spiced with exasperation.
“Oh, this is choice. And right up your alley. Not only is it looking more and more like the old guy may have been murdered by one of these ditsy dames, on top of that you’re mixed up with some kind of a drugged-out, convict-loving pervert.”
“Yeah. Pretty intriguing, huh?”
“For you, maybe. I think weird is a better word. And what the hell’s the matter with the Morgan girl? Considering everything you’ve told me, I would have fired this guy’s ass at the get-go.”
“I haven’t actually had an opportunity to tell her about the last two incidents with D.J. just yet, but I’m going to today. After that, it’s my bet he’ll be gone.”
He met my admittedly lame explanation with silence, then said, “Listen, Kendall, I know you. You’re happiest when you’re elbow deep in something preferably dangerous and even better, life-threatening.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Kendall, I’m serious. Does your bedroom door have a lock on it?”
“I’m not sure.”
“If it doesn’t, get one. Today.”
“Tally, don’t get all jazzed about this. Granted, I got myself into a little trouble last time...”
“A little trouble? You damn near got yourself killed.”
“Okay, okay. You’re right. Look, I’m on my way to Bisbee right now. I’m going to tell the investigating detective everything I’ve told you. Does that make you feel better?”
No answer.
“Tally?”
“Not really. Not unless he’s going to stand guard outside your door.”
“I can ask him.”
“Right.”
It was evident by his skeptical attitude that he was not a happy camper and knowing his determined nature, I doubted he would give me his blessing. “Tally, you’re a sweetheart to worry about me but, really, what’s the worst that could happen?”
He let out a groan. “I don’t even want to speculate.”
“Oh, come on. Think about it. If I do manage to stumble onto something in the next few days that would tie one of these women to Grady Morgan’s death, there’s going to be an arrest and I’m going to have...”
“I know, I know,” he relented gruffly, “one hell of an ending to your story.”
I could tell the conversation was going to go downhill from there so I said sweetly, “I’ve got to go. Have a wonderful trip and I’ll see you next week.”
“Yep, you too.”
At the same instant I cradled the receiver Willow Windsong’s garishly painted VW bus lurched around the bend and slowly ground uphill, pinging and sputtering. Well, this ought to be fun. Jesse plus Willow would no doubt equal fireworks.
Eager to be in on the action, I started for the door, but paused when I heard a strange scraping sound coming from the direction of the old kitchen.
I listened intently, hearing nothing but the rhythmic ticking of the old clock and my own heartbeat drumming in my temples. Most likely it was Princess, or perhaps it was the mice Audrey had mentioned. Just to satisfy my curiosity, I tiptoed across the frayed carpeting and peeked around the corner. Ancient kitchen appliances stood at attention in the shadowy gloom broken only by a few patches of bright sunlight stealing through the shuttered windows. The room was empty and everything appeared to be in order.
Oh, well. Must have been my imagination. Turning away, I hurried outside, down the stairs and trotted along the driveway towards the flowered bus. Willow was so busy scooping piles of papers from the interior that she failed to notice my approach until I called out a greeting, the same instant Jesse threw open the side door.
Dressed in another simply awful pantsuit embellished with purple and yellow swirls and wearing her ever-present scowl, she confronted Willow. “What the hell do you want?” she snarled, her fleeting glare of contempt in my direction dismissing me as an unimportant player.
Burdened by an armload of pamphlets, the petite activist firmly planted moccasined feet and faced her nemesis. “I’m here to see the Morgan girl.”
Animosity smoldered in Jesse’s pale, close-set eyes and the unsightly mole crowning her tightly drawn lips appeared to pulsate as she pulled the door shut behind her. “You can’t. She’s busy doing important things.”
Apparently unaffected by the woman’s sarcasm, Willow waved a piece of paper between two fingers and said mildly, “You aren’t queen of the hill anymore and you can’t stop me from seeing her. What I have to show her is a thousand times more important than any thought that might accidentally form in that vacuum you call a brain
.”
Jesse’s complexion grew pink. “Oh, really? Well, get this you...you cockeyed hippie freak. You’re too late. She’s already agreed to re-open the mine.”
Willow’s wide-eyed stare of disbelief mirrored my own suspicion that Jesse was bluffing. “You’re a liar.”
“Suit yourself. But, if I was you, I’d take that shit load of propaganda and haul my ass out of here ‘cause we’re not gonna stand by and let you browbeat her like you did the old man.”
“You’re a fine one to talk,” Willow said with a snort of derision. “If anyone’s to blame for what happened, it’s you.”
“Oh, no you don’t.” Nostrils flaring, Jesse seemed momentarily at a loss for words, then said, “Okay, okay, so we had a little blow up that day. You pissed him off more than I did and everybody knows you were here after I left.”
“But you and I know better, don’t we?”
Jesse’s whole face twitched and reddened to the point that I thought she was going to have a stroke. “Are you still peddling that asinine story about me coming back here that night?”
“I saw your truck.”
“That wasn’t me, you moron. Haston came over to talk to D.J. about changing his schedule at the mine.”
Undaunted by the fact that Jesse was at least a foot taller and probably outweighed her by fifty pounds, Willow absorbed her insult without blinking and took a step closer. “Get out of my way, Jesse Pickrell.”
“Make me.”
As the two women eyed one another with equal malice, I stood quietly on the sidelines trying not to giggle at their childish antics when, without warning, Willow lowered her head and charged, butting Jesse squarely in the solar plexus. Air whooshed from her lungs in a strangled honk and transformed her mottled-red complexion to chalk white. Glassy-eyed, she staggered backwards, gasping. “You...you...stupid bitch.”
“Murdering fat, greedy pig!”
The words had barely cleared Willow’s lips when Jesse lunged and grabbed a handful of her hair. There was a blur of arms and legs. Screams. Pamphlets flew in all directions. There was little I could do but watch and wait in stunned silence as they clawed at each other and tumbled to the ground.
Well, I was definitely getting the fireworks I’d expected and it was hugely entertaining, but when Jesse pinned Willow beneath her and the smaller woman began to howl in genuine pain, I decided this was enough foolishness. Should I jump in and try to stop them? Did I really want to get in the middle of these two brawling females? I eyed the garden hose. It worked for dogfights so...
I ran over and scooped it up just as Haston burst out the door followed by Audrey and Marta. For a split-second, they all stood there open-mouthed before Haston shouted, “What the hell is going on?”
I said, “They’re having a little disagreement.”
“Somebody stop them,” Audrey cried.
Haston grabbed Jesse by the shoulders. Like an animal intent on killing her prey, she slapped him away and reached for Willow’s throat. Haston, spineless wimp that he was, withdrew and began to dance around the two, helplessly waving his arms like a referee at a prizefight and pleading to no avail.
Enough was enough. I reached for the spigot only to find that Marta had gotten there before me. We exchanged a conspiratorial grin before she gleefully twisted the handle. Water shot out and their screams of pain and anger instantly changed to confusion.
I kept it full force on Jesse until she loosened her grip enough so that Haston could pry her away from the hapless Willow. Unfortunately, there was no way to avoid drenching all of them, so when the skirmish finally came to a standstill and I turned the water off, it was all I could do to keep from exploding with laughter at the pathetic sight.
Stringy-haired and chest heaving, Willow slowly rose to her feet while Haston fought to restrain his hotheaded wife who was still peppering the air with obscenities. When it dawned on her who had administered the unexpected shower, she trained a look of hatred on me that would have melted lead. I think she was toying with the idea of coming after me, but when I put a tentative hand on the handle again and Marta brandished a broom, she faltered and seemed to deflate before our eyes.
“Will somebody please tell me what’s going on here?” Audrey pleaded, dividing a stricken look between the two disheveled women.
Crafty as ever, Jesse pointed a trembling finger. “Why don’t you ask her? She started it.”
Audrey’s gaze swung back. “Who are you?”
“Willow Windsong.”
“So...what’s this all about?”
Willow’s face crumpled in distress as she surveyed the torn, soggy pamphlets strewn about and then panic lit her remarkable dual-colored eyes. “Oh, my Lord. Look what she’s done. Everything’s ruined. Ruined! And where’s my agreement?”
“What agreement?” Audrey asked, looking more puzzled than ever when Willow dropped to her knees and began rifling through the remains.
“It’s identical to the contract your father destroyed,” she said in a choked voice. “I brought a new one for you to sign...” She stopped and aimed a look of accusation at me. “Didn’t you tell her about it?”
I met the profound bewilderment in Audrey’s eyes and quickly reminded her of Willow’s demand that Grady set aside sections of the mine property to create a riparian preserve. That set Jesse off again.
“You cretin! She’ll sign it over my dead body.”
“Shut up,” Haston roared, digging his fingers into Jesse’s arm before turning to Willow. “Bring another copy by and we’ll consult with the company attorney.”
I suspected his words were designed solely to diffuse the situation, but I kept my own counsel as Willow accepted his offer, brushed herself off and with as much dignity as she could muster returned to her bus. She yanked the door open, climbed in and fired up the ignition before leaning her head out the window. “If you really are Grady Morgan’s daughter, I hope you’re not as wrong-headed as he was,” she shouted over the rattling engine, “because if you are, it will be on your conscience if one more innocent creature dies. And mark my words, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep that from happening.”
Spewing blue smoke, Willow’s dented clunker sputtered away and I turned back to assess the effect of her parting words. Haston’s face was a colorful mosaic of anger and frustration, Marta wore a wide-toothed grin, Audrey looked just plain bewildered and Jesse was still pissed.
“What a total asshole. For all I care, she and the rest of her animal-worshiping ilk can go to hell.”
“Your displeasure has been duly noted,” Haston said wearily. “Let’s go.”
But Jesse wasn’t through. She pinned Audrey with her piggish little eyes. “You better arrange to buy, steal or rent some balls, missy, or she’s gonna walk all over...”
Haston gripped Jesse’s arm. “For God’s sake, haven’t you done enough damage for one day?”
Over her continuing protests, he managed to hustle her to the pickup and as they drove off I wondered for the umpteenth time what he could possibly find attractive about this odious woman. But that aside, the impromptu scuffle reaffirmed my suspicion that both women were passionately opinionated and undeniably capable of violence. And how interesting that it had been Haston who’d visited the Morgan estate that fateful night. By my count, I now had about ten thousand questions to ask Orville Kemp and I was eager to get going.
“Could things possibly get any more weird?” Audrey marveled with a slow shake of her head.
I leveled a lopsided grin at her. “With this cast of characters? Absolutely.”
After reminding her that she’d be late for her appointments if we didn’t get cracking soon, she scurried into the kitchen to retrieve the legal documents Duncan had sent with Haston.
Marta handed us an ice-stuffed water jug for our trip and offered to make lunch. Audrey declined, saying she was too nervous to eat, but I, having no such problem, downed an apple and a handful of cookies while she left to get her purse and the big key r
ing from Grady’s desk.
When she returned, I told her that D.J. already had a car ready for us, so we trudged up the hill to the big garage. A swell of pleasure warmed me at the sight of the spiffy red Corvette poised in the driveway, but Audrey had other ideas. After rushing around inside the big building like a kid in a toy store, excitedly bouncing in and out of each car, she finally settled on an elegant cream-colored Packard convertible sporting huge curving fenders and wide white-wall tires.
“I’ve never been riding in a car with the top down before,” she announced with a look of wonder.
I had a hunch it was worth major bucks and felt uneasy at the thought of inflicting so much as a scratch on the custom paint job. “Audrey, are you sure about this? The Corvette’s a convertible too and I have a feeling this one is outrageously expensive.”
“You said whichever one I wanted,” she reminded me, plumping onto the passenger seat and running her hand over the polished walnut dashboard. “Look at this thing. It’s awesome.”
“Okay, it’s your call.” After a last wistful glance at the gleaming Corvette, I took a few minutes to familiarize myself with the controls and felt a mild twinge of dismay when I noticed there was no air-conditioning. It would be at least ten to fifteen degrees warmer when we dropped altitude.
“My mom would have called this one of life’s big ironies.”
“What?” I answered absent-mindedly, fiddling with knobs and dials.
“That I own all these cars and I’m not allowed to drive.”
“She would have been right.”
Audrey fell silent, then offered coyly, “I can, you know.”
“You can what?”
“Drive.”
“Really?” Having claimed to lead such a sheltered life, the girl had more surprises than an unopened piñata. “I’m amazed your mother would allow such an activity.”
Her smile was secretive. “She never knew. My friend Robin used to take me out on a deserted country lane after school.”
I wanted to remind her that with her particular disability, that might not have been wise, but instead I shrugged it off with a tolerant smile. “Well, as long as no one got hurt...”
