by D P Lyle
The inn was wonderful. Six bedrooms, four for rent, including the one Sam occupied, each decorated in a different color scheme, each more beautiful than the last.
“I bought it furnished,” Alyss said. “I only had to do a little painting and buy new draperies and carpets.” She pushed open the door to the last room, which occupied the front corner of the second floor directly above Sam’s room. “This is the Honeymoon Suite.”
The walls were a rich, creamy green. White lace curtains, held open by polished brass hooks, framed French windows that looked out over the rose garden. A massive, waist high four-poster bed dominated the room. A sheer canopy tented the top and dropped graceful tendrils to the floor along each post. A mantled fireplace occupied one corner.
“Wow,” Sam said. “This is spectacular.”
“I hope my first guests agree. They’re newlyweds, coming in from Denver later today.”
“Don’t worry,” Sam said. “They’ll be impressed.”
“I wonder if they know about the murder? Maybe they’ll pack up and leave when they do find out. Maybe they already know and won’t show at all.”
Sam locked her arm with Alyss’ as they walked down the hall toward the stairs. “Quit worrying. They’ll show up. And they’ll love it.”
Chapter 9
The news of Lloyd Varney’s murder settled over the town like a winter frost, chilling an otherwise clear, sunny day. It swept up Main Street, passing from person to person like a virus, infecting each in turn with a smoldering fear. The horror slipped softly from one person’s lips to another’s ears, the words heavy with sadness and disbelief.
Those who had attended church heard Reverend Phillip Blaine speak of Lloyd’s kindness and generosity, of how he had lived in Gold Creek his entire life, a native son, and would now be buried in the small cemetery behind the church he had attended since boyhood.
Now, the churchgoers, dressed in their Sunday best, mingled with other townspeople, sharing their loss in hushed tones. Most shuffled along Main Street, confused and shocked, while a dozen or so clotted together in front of Varney’s General Merchandise as if being close to the scene would somehow make it more understandable. Children stood silently at their parents’ sides, seeming to sense a gravity most were too young to comprehend.
Sam, Alyss, and Shelby rounded the corner from Fourth Street, where Sam had parked her Jeep. As they neared the throng, several people nodded to Alyss and eyed Sam with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. One older couple whispered to each other, their mutual gaze tracking Sam’s approach, glancing down and away when Sam looked toward them.
The outsider, Sam thought. Just like back home. Visitors, new faces are always greeted with polite suspicion. No one would say or do anything, but the wall of separation was almost palpable. Except here, she was the outsider.
As she neared the gathering, Sam smiled and nodded to the couple that seemed so curious about her, but they turned to each other, continuing their conversation as if they hadn’t seen her olive branch.
Chief Wade stepped out of Mama Rose’s, a Styrofoam cup of coffee in his hand. Sam nearly collided with him.
“How are you doing, Deputy Cody?” Wade said.
“Tired,” Sam said.
“Alyss,” he nodded.
“Chief Wade.” Alyss lay a hand on Shelby’s shoulder. “This is my daughter Shelby.”
Wade touched the brim of his worn and stained Stetson. “Nice to meet you.”
“Anything new on your investigation?” Sam said. She noticed that the crowd’s murmurings waned as it turned its collective ear toward them, no doubt searching for some scrap of information that might shed light on what exactly had happened to Lloyd Varney. Wade apparently sensed this, too. He moved down the sidewalk, away from curious ears. Sam followed. Alyss and Shelby remained behind.
Wade stopped near the corner, beneath one of the ornate lampposts. Sam glanced back up the street and saw the older couple strike up a conversation with Alyss. Probably to find out who Sam might be and if they had heard correctly when Wade addressed her as “deputy.” Morbid curiosity apparently doesn’t dwindle with age.
Wade tilted his hat back with a finger under the brim. “That empty shoe box you found. Timberline boots. Size fourteen. Billy Bear’s brand and size. Lloyd orders them in special for him and a shoe that big sure wouldn’t fit anyone else around here.”
“So, he was stealing boots that were his anyway?” Sam asked.
“Cheaper that way, don’t you think?” Wade pulled a toothpick from his shirt pocket and shoved it into the corner of his mouth. “And Billy’s the only person around here as big as the guy that ran over you.”
Sam felt a twinge of apprehension. Wade’s suspicion appeared to be based solely on her description. She never really saw the man, only the shadow of a run-away bull. And a swirl of stars after her head hit the wall of the bank. “I never really got a look at him,” she said.
“Yeah. I know,” Wade said. “But, Billy’s not our most upstanding citizen.”
“Oh?” Sam said.
“He’s got a sheet. Nothing like this, but fighting, growing dope, stuff like that.”
“Marijuana?”
“Never could prove it. It was on his land, but out from his house a ways. Guess it could have been anyone. Of course, Billy never denied using the stuff. Just denied growing it, which would have gotten him before the judge.”
“Have you talked to him?” Sam asked.
“Not yet. Went by his place. Wasn’t there. He’s probably out in the mountains. That’s where he is half the time.”
“Doing what?” Sam asked.
“Hiking around mostly. He’s gone for days sometimes. Likes to camp up there.”
“You going to go find him?”
“Me? No way.” Wade shook his head for emphasis. “Couldn’t find him anyway. Nobody knows these hills better than Billy and if he doesn’t want to be found, ain’t nobody going to find him.”
“You really think he killed Mr. Varney?” Alyss asked.
Wade scratched his ear. “He knows the lay out of the store. Even has a key.” Wade shifted the toothpick to the other corner of his mouth. “If Billy did this and run off, we’ll never find him in these mountains. If not, he’ll be back in a day or two, I suspect.”
Eloy Fuller, head bouncing on his long neck, cigarette bobbing from the corner of his mouth, eyes darting around as if following a gnat, walked toward them. He seemed to focus one eye on Wade and the other on Sam. He offered Sam a grin and then turned to Wade. “Chief. They’re here to take the body over to Montrose.”
Sam flashed a quizzical look at Wade.
“Abe Summers. County Coroner,” Wade said. “Up in Montrose. Examines all homicides in the county, which is almost never. But, we’ll see what he has to say. Probably not much since the cause of death seems fairly obvious, and I doubt he can tell us who did it.” He plucked the toothpick from his mouth and tossed it in the nearby trashcan. “I’d better get this done since Abe has kindly agreed to do the post today. That way we won’t have to delay Lloyd’s funeral too long.” He nodded to Sam. “See you later.” He turned and followed Eloy up the sidewalk.
Eloy looked over his shoulder at Sam a couple of times as he and Wade crossed Main Street and headed toward the Police Department.
Alyss walked up, Shelby in tow. “Looks like you have a fan.”
“Spare me,” Sam said.
“Come on,” Alyss said. “I’ll show you the town.”
“I’ve seen it,” Shelby said. “I’m going over to the music store and see if they have anything that’s not like totally lame.”
“OK,” Alyss said. “We’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”
Sam and Alyss strolled down Main Street. While they walked and chatted, Sam decided that despite her introduction to the town last night and the understandably suspicious nature of the crowd outside Varney’s, she liked Gold Creek.
In the daylight, it appeared very different
. The stores were old but seemed to wear their age well. Clean and tidy, but with no hint of Disney-like contrivance, they were the real thing. Built by hand from sturdy materials. Aged by time and weather, not some artisan’s patina.
Alyss pointed out some of the historic buildings, mostly Victorian, dating from a time when gold and silver were big business. Many had served as homes for the wealthy mine owners. Most had been restored; others still needed work.
Alyss showed her one particularly impressive three-story Victorian that had been the town’s main brothel. It was now the Begley Hotel. Stately, sedate, yellow with caramel trim, and stained glass everywhere.
“The brothel was run for over forty years by a woman who called herself Belle Bovary,” Alyss said. “I forget her real name.”
“When did it close?”
“Belle died in the 1930’s. A couple of the girls kept it running until the mid Forties. After the war, Thomas Begley bought it and converted it to a hotel.”
“It’s beautiful.” Sam shielded the sun from her eyes as she inspected the building.
“My main competition,” Alyss said. “They have eighteen rooms. I have four.”
“I’d bet yours are better though,” Sam said. “Besides, yours come with peace and solitude. And you.”
Alyss laughed.
“And down comforters and fresh muffins,” Sam continued.
They veered off Main Street long enough for Alyss to show Sam the hundred-year-old stone church with its soaring white steeple and gold cross. “It’s plated with real gold,” Alyss said.
“You’re kidding?”
“Apparently, they had more gold around here than they knew what to do with.” Alyss turned and looked back toward the Begley Hotel a block away. “The miners that visited Belle’s girls usually paid in nuggets and dust. That’s all they had, I guess. Anyway, Belle donated the gold for the cross.”
“Buying salvation?” Sam said.
“Or trying to keep the local powers out of her hair.”
Sam turned back to the church. The church’s property covered an entire block, set off from the sidewalk by a black wrought iron fence topped with ornate spikes. The grounds were park like, with manicured lawns and stately spruce trees. Reverend Blaine’s modest white, frame home sat only a few yards from the church’s rear door. Beyond lay the cemetery, a garden of flowers, shrubs, and headstones. Soon to be Lloyd Varney’s final resting place.
They continued their stroll, circling the church’s property. As they neared where they had started, Sam asked, “What’s the story on Chief Wade?”
“What do you mean?”
“What’s he like? An OK guy?”
“Seems to be. He’s been Police Chief for over 20 years, I understand. The town must like him.” Alyss stopped and looked at her. “Why are you asking?”
“Just curious.”
“Come on, Sam,” Alyss said. “It’s me. I know all about you and curiosity.”
Sam laughed. “I just feel uncomfortable. As far as I can tell, he’s basing his suspect list of one on what I saw and the size of a missing pair of boots.”
“Shouldn’t he?”
“Eye witnesses are always unreliable. Even cops. Even me. I told him I didn’t really see the man. And a pair of eighty dollar boots doesn’t make a great motive for murder.”
“But, you haven’t met Billy,” Alyss said. “He fits the part.”
As she walked, Sam brushed her hand along the wrought iron fence pickets, then stopped and grasped one of the ornate fence spikes in each fist. She gazed across the cemetery. “You mean like...if the shoe fits...”
“Something like that.”
But, did it all fit? Was Billy Bear the killer? Sam didn’t know what to believe. Not yet. She didn’t know this town or its people or Wade or Billy Bear Wingo. She just didn’t want her eyewitness account, such as it was, to implicate the wrong person.
Alyss laid a hand on her shoulder. “I know it wouldn’t do any good for me to remind you that you’re on vacation and that this isn’t your concern.”
“I know.”
“The truth,” Alyss continued, “is that I’m scared.” Sam started to say something but Alyss raised a hand to stop her. “The entire town is. I could feel it. And with Shelby here...” She looked at Sam. “I don’t know how good or dedicated or anything Wade is, but I know you.”
Sam couldn’t suppress a small laugh. “I never thought I’d see this day. You’re actually encouraging me?”
Alyss shrugged. “I know you’ll find the truth whatever it takes.”
Sam let go of the fence spikes. “Wade might not like me snooping around?”
“Since when did that ever stop you?”
They locked arms and continued their walk.
Returning to Main Street, they passed several cluttered antique stores, Mark’s Pharmacy and it’s fifties style soda counter, and Tankersly's Pool Hall, the local “den of iniquity,” according to Alyss. Finally, after collecting Shelby from the music store where she had found only one CD that wasn’t “like totally stone age,” they reached Tony’s Market, a small corner grocery store.
“I need to pick up a few things for dinner tonight,” Alyss said as they walked inside.
The market was neat, clean. Three aisles, filled with the usual grocery store items, ran the length of the store. Deep wooden bins, brimming with orderly displays of ripe vegetables and fruits, lined one wall. At the rear, sat a freezer cabinet of ice cream treats and a butcher’s case of fresh meats and fish. A slim man with thinning black hair and gold-rimmed glasses smiled as they walked up.
“Hello, Alyss,” he said. “How are you doing today?”
“OK, Tony. You?”
Tony shrugged and extended his hand, palm down, and rocked it back and forth, indicating ambivalent feelings. “Terrible thing about Lloyd.”
“Yes, it is.” Alyss introduced Sam and Shelby and then asked for five Cornish hens.
“Coming right up,” Tony said and then disappeared into the walk-in refrigerator behind him.
“I thought I’d make tomato and butter lettuce salad, stuffed hens with port wine sauce, veggies, and French bread,” Alyss said. “And we’ll get some ice cream to go with the cobbler.”
“Sounds delicious. When’s dinner?” a deep masculine voice behind them said.
Sam turned to see a striking looking man. Tall, trim, mid-fifties, he wore a dirt-stained denim shirt that deepened the cool blue of his eyes. Equally soiled jeans and boots and thick blonde hair, graying slightly at the temples, lent a rugged masculinity. Not the kind of man you would miss in a crowd or anywhere else. A casual glance would become a lingering gaze.
“Sam, this is Burt Eagan,” Alyss said. “Burt, Sam Cody and my daughter Shelby.”
Burt shook hands with Sam and then turned to Shelby. “Your mother has told me a lot about you, but you’re even prettier than she said.”
Shelby blushed. “Thanks.”
“Pardon my appearance,” Burt said. “And the smell. We had to move some cattle this morning.”
Alyss smiled. “I don’t know how you keep up with a ranch the size of yours. I can barely handle my two little acres.”
“Sounds like you ladies have big plans tonight,” Burt said.
“Dinner for my first guests,” Alyss said.
“Congratulations. Exciting isn’t it?” Burt said.
Alyss nodded. “And a little scary.”
“It’ll be great.” He looked at Sam. “I understand you had the misfortune of finding Lloyd.”
“True.”
“Terrible thing. He was a fine man.”
“So I hear,” Sam said.
Burt nodded. “You’re a deputy. California isn’t it?”
How does he know all this? Sam wondered to herself.
As if reading her mind, he added, “Forrest Wade called this morning and told me about it.” He shook his head. “This kind of thing doesn’t happen around here.” He looked at Alyss. “You be care
ful until Wade tracks down whoever did this.”
“We will.”
“Not meaning any offense,” he said. “But, three ladies, alone...I could have one of the boys camp outside your inn until this is solved.”
Alyss smiled, nodding toward Sam. “Thanks, but she’s armed and dangerous.”
Burt smiled. “Well, the offer stands if you change your mind.”
A young man wearing a white apron walked up. “Mr. Eagan, you’re groceries are ready up front. I’ll take them out to your car whenever you’re ready.”
“Thanks, Jimmy,” he said. The boy walked away. Burt turned back to them, his gaze bouncing off Sam and falling on Alyss. They stood, eyes locked on each other, for a long moment.
Alyss broke the silence. “You’re welcome to join us this evening.”
“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” Burt said. “Besides, you need to entertain your guests, not me.”
“Still, you’re welcome to come.”
He turned to Sam. “I’ve been trying to get her out to dinner for weeks, but she’s been too busy.”
“Really?” Sam said, eying Alyss with a raised eyebrow.
Alyss frowned at her. “Putting the house together has been a full time job.”
“Now that you’re officially open, maybe you’ll have more free time,” Burt said.
“I hope so.”
His eyes lingered on Alyss once again. “Well, I’ll leave you to your shopping. I’ve got a few more errands myself. Nice meeting you, Sam, and especially you, Shelby. Hope to see you again soon.” He turned, and then stopped and looked back at Alyss. “Why don’t you all come over to Casa Grande tomorrow afternoon? We’ll take some horses out for a ride.”
Shelby’s face brightened. She looked hopefully at her mother.
Alyss hesitated and then said, “OK. What time?”
“How about one?”
“We’ll be there.”
“It’s a date then.” He smiled, turned, and walked down one of the aisles.
“Hmmm,” Sam said.
“Not a word,” Alyss said.
“I didn’t say anything.” Sam winked at Shelby.
“Then, don’t,” Alyss said.
