“I’m glad. I’ll see you then.” Static broke up what he said next. “—the canyon—losing signal.” The line went dead.
Steve appeared in her doorway. “Time for class to resume. Whoa, what’s with the nails?”
Two seasonal rangers appeared behind him. One shielded his eyes. “I’ll need shades to protect my eyes from those flashers.”
The other one grinned. “Red paint isn’t going to give you any kind of advantage. You’re still going to end up on the mat all afternoon.”
“Oh, shut up.” Mandy stalked outside to the sounds of snickers behind her. She assumed a belligerent stance on the far side of the mats lining the parking lot and shot her best combat glare at the other rangers assembled there. “First one who says something about my nails gets a fist in the gut.”
Ships are but boards, sailors but men: there be land-rats
and water-rats, land-thieves and water-thieves.
—The Merchant Of Venice, Act I, Scene Iii,
William Shakespeare
Mandy stood in the shower with the water turned up as hot as she could tolerate. She could wash off the sweat from the self-defense class, but not the humiliation. She’d lost focus during the class, rehashing Evie’s news, plans for her uncle’s service, and what she might say to Rob to make up with him. So, she had been tossed to the mat all afternoon. Fighting back tears of frustration, she had gritted her teeth harder and harder through the afternoon until her head was pounding.
During a break, she had gone inside her office and searched in her desk drawer for aspirin. Finding none, she slumped in her chair with her eyes closed and rubbed her head. Steve found her there and offered her some of his own aspirin. Then he sat down and gave her a pep talk, saying it was understandable she was having a bad day. After all, her uncle had just died.
Mandy wasn’t sure how much she could believe Steve’s assurances that she was turning into a good river ranger, one he could count on. She sure felt inadequate now.
She stepped out of the shower and grabbed her towel. Two of her fancy-painted nails had broken, and polish was chipped off most of the rest. She would have taken off the polish, but she didn’t have any remover in the house. And she couldn’t send David out to get some. He had already left to grab a bite to eat in town before meeting her and Rob at the kickoff. He claimed he needed more sustenance than the itty-bitty snacks served at such events.
She was zipping her dress when the doorbell rang, sending Lucky racing out of the bedroom to bark and slobber at the door. Mandy slipped on her shoes and followed the dog. She opened the door and sucked in her breath.
Rob stood on the stoop with his wavy hair slicked back, his face clean shaven, and wearing a clean white dress shirt, a blue tie, and a shy smile. He looked good enough to eat, and she was hungry.
He opened the screen door and put out a hand to prevent Lucky from jumping on his dress pants. “Wow, Mandy, you doll up nice.”
“I could say the same about you.” She reached out a tentative hand to caress the crisp cotton fabric covering his chest. “Nice shirt.”
He gently kneed the dog aside, stepped up to Mandy and ran his fingertips down the back of her dress. They burned a trail of fire through the fabric. “I missed you, mi querida. I hate you being mad at me. Can we kiss and make up?”
Her legs turning to pudding, Mandy said, “We’ve got some talking to do first.”
“Kiss first. Then we talk.” He bent his head.
She leaned into him and gave him a long, lingering kiss. She forgot all about why she had been mad at him, what he’d done wrong, because right now he was doing everything right. His hands roamed up and down her back, stoking the fire they had started.
When he lifted his head, she breathed in his musky cologne and put her arms around him to pull him to her again. She gave herself, and her lips, up to him. They kissed hungrily, with mouths open and tongues lashing, until they were both panting with desire. She felt him harden against her.
“Forget about the kickoff.” His voice rasped with hoarseness. “I’ll dance with you right here and now.”
Lucky took that moment to snort in doggy-disgust and pad off to the kitchen. He started barking and clawing at the back door.
That was enough to break the spell for Mandy and clear her head. “Lucky, stop!”
The barking just got more frantic.
Rob grinned down at her. “Your dog obeys real well.”
“Oh, hush. He must sense something’s wrong out there. I’d better check.” Reluctantly, she slid out of Rob’s arms.
With a groan of frustration, he followed her into the kitchen.
Mandy tugged on Lucky’s collar to pull the dog away from the back door and keep him from adding more scratches to its already marred surface. “What’re you going on about?”
Rob sniffed the breeze coming in from the cracked-open window over the sink. “A skunk.”
Mandy caught a whiff of the pungent animal. “No way am I letting you outside to get sprayed,” she said to Lucky. “Please close the window, Rob.”
He cranked it shut, but the smell was still strong. “Must be right outside. I’ll chase it off.” Rob put a hand on the doorknob, and Lucky strained against his collar.
“No, don’t,” Mandy shouted over Lucky’s barks while she struggled with the dog. “What if it sprays you?”
But Rob was already outside. Lucky tugged Mandy to the open doorway. The stench was even worse outside. Rob went around the corner of the house toward the kitchen window, clapping his hands.
A dark shape with a white stripe down its back bounded across the yard.
Lucky leapt in the air, jerking Mandy off her feet. She landed on her knees, but managed to keep a hand on the dog’s collar.
Rob rounded the corner. “Problem gone.” When he saw her, he rushed to her aid, taking hold of Lucky’s collar and lifting Mandy to her feet.
She checked her legs. Her hose were ripped, and the scab had come off the old scrape on her knee and was oozing blood. “Great. Now I have to change my stockings.” She strode back inside.
Rob dragged Lucky inside and closed the door. “Can I watch?”
Mandy laughed, then glanced at the oven clock. “Sorry. We need to go, Rob. We’re almost a half hour late already. Could you get Lucky settled down while I change?”
He dropped his hold on the dog and put his arms around her. “Can’t we pick up where we left off?”
“We’ve both got businesses to represent at this function. You know we need to be there. And showing up late is no way to give a good impression.”
He rested his chin on top of her head and took a deep breath, then pulled away and looked at her. “You’re right, of course, but I’m taking a rain check that I plan to redeem as soon as I bring you back home.”
“It’ll be my pleasure.” Mandy gave him a saucy wink before she headed back into the bedroom.
While she yanked off her torn hose and cleaned and bandaged her knee, Rob locked her back door and rummaged in the dog biscuit bag. Lucky’s tail thumped loudly against the linoleum floor until his jaws snapped shut on what must have been a tossed biscuit.
Mandy tugged on a new pair of hose, yanked down her skirt, and slipped on her shoes. While she transferred items from her fanny pack to her black purse, Rob came back and leaned against the doorjamb, his appreciative gaze still making her pulse race.
He cleared his throat. “I want to apologize for what an idiot I was Monday, mistaking your brother for … you know.”
Mandy smiled at him. “A rival?”
“Yeah. Can’t help wanting you all to myself, mi querida.”
A flush of pleasure that she meant so much to him was soon followed by a tinge of annoyance at the tone of his comment, like she was a possession that no one was allowed to borrow. But she buried the annoyance
quickly. She didn’t want anything to spoil this evening.
Rob folded his arms across his chest. “He called me yesterday, though, and we talked for a good long while. He seems like an okay guy.”
“He’d better be. He’s my brother.” Mandy shouldered her purse. “What did you two talk about?”
“You, of course.” He held out his hand. “C’mon, you’re the one who doesn’t want to be late.”
She grabbed her jacket and followed him out the door. They crunched across the driveway, Mandy teetering on her heels in the uneven gravel, to Rob’s truck. While he drove to the Salida Steamplant, the old electrical power plant that had been converted into a performing arts center, her anxiety rose. Being this late, they’d never find a close parking spot, and walking from a far one would make them even later. She’d have to plunge right into networking.
“Who should I make sure I talk to?” she asked Rob.
He started naming all the owner-representatives of the different rafting outfitter businesses. While she listened, a small voice in the back of her head kept saying she and Rob had unfinished business of their own to settle.
Rob cruised slowly on Sackett Street past the tall red brick building squatting on the banks of the Arkansas River in downtown Salida. They both hunted for a parking spot on either side of the road. Everything was taken, including all the spots in the ranger station lot across the street.
Mandy finally located a spot three blocks west and Rob parked the truck. Trotting as fast as she could to the Steamplant, she stumbled in the unfamiliar high heels.
Rob caught her, tucked her arm in his, and pulled her close. “Slow down. Being another couple of minutes late won’t make a difference. You don’t want to rip another pair of stockings.”
“And this is the last unripped pair I have.”
Rob slowed their pace. “A lot of people are going to want to say something to you about Bill. He was well liked, and folks are going to miss him. Can you handle that?”
Mandy hadn’t realized she would need to spend the evening talking about her dead uncle. “I—I don’t know. I hope so.”
“I’ll try to stay close, and your brother will be here, too, right?”
“Yeah. But he’s no better at this stuff than I am.” They had reached the wooden steps up to the front door, and Mandy hesitated.
With his hand on the doorknob, Rob waited.
She took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s go.”
Rob opened the door. The loud buzz of conversations filled the lobby, along with a crush of people. Everyone else seemed to have arrived ages ago.
Mandy spotted glasses in many hands. She decided a drink would be a good idea, give her some courage. “Let’s find the bar,” she shouted over the noise to Rob.
He nodded, looked around the room, and steered her toward a corner bar on the left. A chime sounded three times, signaling that people should take their seats. Suddenly Mandy and Rob were trying to swim upstream against the current of people flowing into the theater.
Rob stopped and turned to Mandy. “Can you wait? If we don’t go in now, we won’t get seats.”
“I guess I can wait.” Mandy followed him into the theater and down the aisle until he located a couple of seats.
After she sat, an older woman on her left patted her hand and leaned toward her. “Sorry to hear about your uncle, honey.”
Suddenly choked up, Mandy nodded and mumbled her thanks.
Rob gave her other hand a squeeze. “Courage,” he whispered.
Thankfully, the emcee called for attention, and the lights dimmed. For the next hour, the FIBArk race competitors were introduced, the Board and Commodore of the event were honored, and a long list of volunteers were thanked. Finally, when Mandy thought her hands would fall off from clapping so often, the program ended. People streamed into the party room next to the theater to dance, drink, eat, and most importantly, since this was a Chamber of Commerce event, to network.
Mandy’s stomach rumbled, and she still needed that drink. She grabbed a plateful of cheese, crackers, and veggies, and stood in a corner munching while Rob swam through the crowd toward the bar.
She spotted Detective Quintana nearby and approached him. “Hello, Detective.”
“Hello, Mandy. Call me Vic. I’m off duty.”
Instead of his Chaffee County Sheriff’s uniform, he was dressed in jeans and a Western shirt. “So you are.”
“Hey, let me offer my condolences. I was real sorry to hear about your uncle. He was a good man.”
Mandy looked at her plate. “Yeah, thanks.” She inched a piece of cheese onto a cracker, but decided against eating it. She would have to get rid of that lump in her throat first. “Any news on the King case?”
Quintana peered at her. “Still obsessing about that?”
Mandy blushed. “Not obsessing. Just interested.”
“Uh-huh.” Quintana looked around,then drew her away from the crowd, against the wall. “We found out that Lenny Preble brought a case of sports drink bottles and a few dozen donuts to the launch area and passed them out to the trip participants.”
“Is that why you came by my uncle’s place?”
Quintana nodded. “We collected all the trash from the trip and scoured the vans and rafts. We found the poison in one of the bottles.”
“You think Lenny did it?”
“Not necessarily. One of the witnesses saw him cutting the heavy-duty shrink wrap off the case at the launch point, so he couldn’t have doctored one of the bottles ahead of time. While the gear was being organized and loaded into the rafts, bottles were being passed around, tossed, and handed off. Anyone could have slipped the poison into King’s bottle before handing it to him.”
“I guess the big question is who had access to the poison.”
“Right. And there’s a profile that goes with poisoning. It’s usually a woman’s method of murder, because they don’t like to get their hands dirty, so to speak.”
“Now you’re sounding sexist.” Mandy smiled to show she was teasing.
“I know, so I’m not letting that influence me. Besides, anyone who’s an avid gardener could have figured out how to make the powder. And there’s the possibility that the poison in the bottle was a plant.”
“A plant? What do you mean?”
“Someone could have given King the poison before the trip even began, then doctored a bottle to throw suspicion on the trip participants.”
“Someone like his wife or son, who both had reasons to hate him?”
Quintana raised a brow. “I thought you were going to stay out of the investigation.”
“People have told me things, like my friends, Cynthia and Gonzo. I discovered a few things about the trip participants that you should know.” Then Mandy slipped in a little white lie. “And I ran into Evie at the Final Touch Day Spa when I got my nails done today at lunchtime.”
Quintana glanced at her hands. “They didn’t do a very good job.”
“That was my fault. I chipped them at work this afternoon.”
“So what did you find out from Evie?”
“First, let me tell you about my conversation with Lenny Preble in Bighorn Sheep Canyon yesterday.” Mandy summarized what Lenny had said about the bidding war between Tom King and Nate Fowler and the angry looks Evie Olson and Paula King had been giving each other. That led naturally into her conversation with Evie and her friend Shirley Logan at the day spa.
Quintana stroked his mustache. “We’ve been investigating King’s affair with Evie—probably why she was so touchy with you. But she acted aloof about King with us, as if she couldn’t care less about him moving back in with his wife. You know, que sera sera. Interesting that she told you she couldn’t forgive him, even though he was dead. Anything else?”
“Yes. Gonzo t
old me about King’s son hating his father for cutting him off.” She relayed how deep the young man’s money problems were.
“Very interesting. When we interviewed Jeff King and his mother at their home, they both gave the impression that he was living there.”
“Maybe he is, now that his father’s gone,” Mandy replied. “Maybe his mother doesn’t feel the same way about Jeff’s kayaking lifestyle but had to follow her husband’s lead when he was alive.”
“This information is useful, Mandy, but remember what I said. Leave the investigation to me. I’ll follow up on Evie Olson and Jeff King, and I’ve got an interview with Nate Fowler tomorrow.” Quintana scanned the room. “He’s here tonight with his family. You wanted to meet his daughter, Hannah, right?”
“Yes, I need to thank her.”
“I see them over there. I’ll introduce you to her.”
As they approached a family that included a middle-aged man and woman and a younger brunette, the brunette spied Mandy, squealed, and tugged on the man’s arm. “There she is! The river ranger.”
Mandy recognized the young woman as the one she had rescued, though she looked considerably different in a slinky maroon dress and heavily made-up eyes. Hannah Fowler gave little excited hops while Detective Quintana made introductions.
When he concluded, she almost leapt on Mandy to give her a crushing hug. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you for saving me.”
Mandy pulled back. “I was going to thank you.”
“Whatever for?”
“For holding on to Tom King and helping me get him out of the water. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“I just did what you told me to do. Bummer that he died anyway, though. I might have, too, if not for you.”
Nate Fowler stuck out his hand. “My wife and I also owe you our thanks, for bringing our daughter to shore, safe and sound.”
Too embarrassed to say anything coherent, Mandy shook his hand and that of his wife. The two were both elegant and attractive, in their late forties. Nate had a patrician nose and a full head of wavy gray hair and wore a heavy gold watch and college class ring on his right hand. His handshake was confident and firm, but not crushing, like those of males who had something to prove.
Deadly Currents Page 12
