4th Down

by Kate Calloway

  When at last I made the turnoff, I was surprised at how quickly civilization was left behind. The road became a two-lane strip of asphalt that twisted and climbed through towering trees. I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever get there, when suddenly the road flattened out and the trees gave way to a lush meadow. I drove over a cattle grate and under impressive wooden arches that sported a giant T intersected by a bone. I had finally made it to the T-Bone Ranch, the base camp for the Eagle's Nest Resort. With about ten minutes to spare. Damn, I thought, I could have stopped for that hamburger.

  I followed the driveway to a large dirt lot where at least fifty cars were already parked. Allison had told me that she'd be going up with the majority of the women in the morning shift. Three o'clock was the final run of the day, and the rest of the people would come up on Tuesday by bus. I locked the Jeep and hefted my bag over my shoulder, hoping they hadn't left without me.

  "Looks like you just made it," a Stetsoned man called out, hurrying over. "Here, let me get that for you." I gladly handed him my bag and felt a little guilty when he grunted under the unexpected weight.

  "They're already mounted up. Can you ride?" He eyeballed my cowboy boots and I was glad I'd worn them. They were scuffed and well-worn, proof that I wasn't just a "drugstore" cowgirl.

  "A little." In truth I was a pretty decent rider.

  "Good. 'Cause the only horse left is Diablo, and he's mean as spit. You look like you can handle him, though. This your first time here?"

  He led me around the perimeter of a string of ranch-style buildings toward the stables. A hundred yards to the south, I saw the incongruous form of a helicopter resting on a round concrete pad.

  "Somebody fly in?" I asked.

  "Nah, that's for emergencies. In case someone gets sick at the resort. Takes too long to get 'em down, otherwise. The only road up beside the horse trail is an old dirt fire road and even in a four wheel drive, it takes several hours."

  When we turned the corner, my guide started to chuckle. A short, middle-aged woman was attempting to climb onto a rather large palomino, and while she'd managed to get one foot in the stirrup, she couldn't quite pull herself up. Her lover stood behind her, pushing her rump in a vain attempt to assist, but the palomino wasn't helping.

  "I better go give 'em a hand. Here. Take this over to Buddy, that boy with the black hat, and tell him to give you Diablo." He handed me my bag and I tried diligently not to grunt under the weight. Maybe I should have gone a little easier on the surveillance stuff, I thought, looking for the black hat.

  I couldn't help but notice that most of the women were already saddled up and watching my every move. I wondered if they'd been told to arrive earlier than three. Some of them didn't look too happy to see me, like it was my fault they'd been kept waiting. I smiled winningly and tried to ignore the scowls.

  "I'm supposed to ask for Diablo," I said, handing my bag to a skinny red-headed kid in a black cowboy hat.

  "Nobody in their right mind asks for Diablo. But seeing as he's the only horse left, I guess he'll have to do. Anyone else comes, they'll have to ride a mule."

  Despite my ease around horses, I was starting to get a little nervous. "What's the matter with Diablo?"

  Buddy chuckled and led me to the only horse tied to the railing — a jet-black gelding with a beautiful black mane and tail. His coat glistened in the sun and he pawed the ground nervously as we approached. His eyes were wild, the whites rolling back as he followed my every move.

  "Nice Diablo," I crooned, patting his neck. The horse snorted and pawed the ground again, just missing my toe.

  "He don't like strangers," the kid said.

  Oh, great. What was he doing transporting strangers to a resort then? I was beginning to wonder about this resort. So far, the customer services seemed a little lacking. "Does he buck?" I asked, taking the reins.

  "If he does, just hang onto that horn there and try to ride it out. He mostly prefers to rear though. Same thing, hang onto the horn and lean forward. He's okay unless he gets nervous. If the rider stays calm, so does he. You're not nervous are you?"

  "You're kidding, right?" I held the reins with my left hand, put my left toe in the stirrup and swung myself into the saddle. Diablo's ears went straight back. Before he could think about rearing up, I nudged him sharply with my heels and clicked my tongue. He lunged forward, responding beautifully to the command.

  "All right!" The kid grinned. I pulled back on the reins, and Diablo came to an abrupt halt. I backed him up a good ten paces. I turned him sharply to the left, then a full circle to the right. I reached down and patted his neck, my heart pounding. I knew every woman there was watching me, and I was slightly chagrinned to be showing off so blatantly. "Guess you done proved me wrong," Buddy said, patting Diablo on the butt.

  The sudden movement surprised the horse and without any warning, his hind legs kicked out, narrowly missing the kid's head. I tried to calm him, but he wasn't having any of it. His muscles bunched beneath the saddle and he bucked with all his might. I felt my body leaving the saddle and forced my legs to hold on. My head was inches above the black mane, my left hand grasping at it as my right hand flailed wildly for balance. I felt my rear slam back down on the saddle and just had time to dig in with my knees when he bucked again. This time I was more prepared for the jolt that rocked me. I was vaguely aware of other voices and the people around me, but every fiber of my being was honed in on the beast beneath me. When his rear went up, I went with it. When he twisted to the left, I let myself twist along with him. I made myself a part of him, an extension of his own craziness. When at last he came to a stop, my heart was thudding and every muscle in my body ached.

  The sound of applause was spontaneous and brought me back to reality. I looked around at the grinning faces and acknowledged the whoops and hollers with a grin of my own.

  "Anybody want to trade horses?" I asked. They responded with laughter.

  "Sorry about that," Buddy said, inching around Diablo, leaving a wide berth. "I guess I kinda spooked him. You okay?"

  I shot the kid a fierce look and gently nudged Diablo with my heels, easing him forward. The next time he kicked at the little turkey, I hoped he connected.

  "That was quite a show. Talk about a grand entrance. What are you going to do for an encore?" The woman was tall and athletic with short black hair brushed straight back off her high forehead. She had dark skin with light gold eyes and a wide smile.

  The big red mare she sat on looked as gentle as a plow horse. I eyed her horse with envy and stretched my back. "Well, if I can still walk, I hope to hobble to the nearest Jacuzzi, provided they have one, and soak for about two hours."

  She laughed. "Not only do they have one, they're all over the place. Natural hot springs. Smell like sulphur, but you get used to it. I take it this is your first time?"

  "If the beginning is any indication of how the rest of the week is going to go, it no doubt will be my last, too." She laughed again, and we got in line with the others who were finally beginning to move forward in a long, slow procession up the trail.

  "Karen Castillo," she said, leaning over her saddle. I shook the proffered hand, wondering where I'd heard that name before.

  "Cassidy James," I said. "You've been here before?"

  "This is my third time. It's quite a place, once we finally get there. It takes a good hour and a half on this trail. By then, we'll all be ready for a cold beer and a hot bath. Wait till you see the lake! And the waterfalls! Eagle's Nest is the best kept secret in Oregon."

  Diablo, apparently tuckered out from his temper tantrum, was as docile as a cow, and I held the reins loosely, enjoying the peaceful pace and the scenery.

  "So, what do you do for a living?" she asked. "Professional cowgirl?"

  "Cute," I said. "Actually I'm in real estate." This popped out of my mouth before I could think it through. I hoped she didn't ask me any questions about escrow or mortgages. "How about you?"

  "I'm a teacher," she said. "
And track coach."

  "High school?" I asked. She nodded. Now that I thought about it, she did look kind of like a P.E. teacher. I wondered how many little jocks fell in love with her each year. I remembered my own track coach fondly and smiled. Suddenly I remembered where I had heard her name. I hadn't actually heard it. I'd seen it. On Allison's list. Karen Castillo was one of the officers for Women On Top, one with an asterisk next to her name, I thought, smiling. "So, how did you first hear about this resort?" I asked. The path had grown quite steep, and we were forced to proceed single file. I let her go in front.

  "Women On Top comes up here every year," she said over her shoulder. "For the staff, it's sort of a working vacation. We plan the next year's events, attend some workshops, but mostly we relax and enjoy."

  "You work with Women On Top?" I hoped I sounded only mildly interested.

  "I'm the public relations officer. Fancy title, but mostly all I do is make up brochures and flyers and write ads for newspapers across the state. Don't tell anyone, but I use the school's Xerox machine to make copies. If they only knew!" She looked back, gold eyes crinkling with mischief.

  "Sounds exciting," I said. "I mean, working with Women On Top. How'd you get involved with them?"

  "I was recruited. A friend of mine, Reeva Dunsmoore, talked me into helping out on a lecture they were organizing about three years ago. 'Just this once,' she said. Ha! Three years later, here I am, still making flyers and writing ads. But I'm not complaining. It's a good group to work with."

  The trail had become treacherous, with hairpin turns every hundred feet or so. On our left was a solid granite wall looming skyward. On our right, a three-hundred-foot drop. I'd have felt a lot better on Karen's red mare than on the black monster beneath me. One little buck on this stretch of ground and it would be a quick trip to the bottom.

  No one was doing much talking now that the trail had narrowed, which gave me a chance to think. Reeva Dunsmoore was the vice president that Allison said had the greatest motive to want her out of the picture... and one of the few Allison hadn't slept with over the years. If Reeva had recruited Karen into the group, perhaps she'd had more than a professional interest in her. Karen had been one of Allison's lovers, so it was possible that there was a jealousy factor involved. Maybe Reeva wasn't just irked about Allison's politics, maybe she was hurting over the loss of Karen's love.

  I continued on in this vein, making up wild scenarios in which Reeva, or one of the other women I'd yet to meet, plotted Allison Crane's death. The thing I kept coming back to, though, was why? What was the motive? Who would benefit from Allison's death? Which made me wonder about money. Allison said she didn't have any family. If that were true, then who would be the beneficiary of her estate? Doctors made pretty decent wages, and I imagined there'd be some life insurance too. I put that on my mental list of things to ask Allison, if and when we ever got to the damned resort. My stomach had given up growling. It had started to whimper.

  When we finally arrived, I forgot my hunger and even my aching muscles as I gazed at the beauty around me. Karen hadn't lied. Eagle's Nest Resort was spectacular.

  On the north side of the valley, a pristine emerald lake glistened in the afternoon sun. In the middle of the lake was a tiny island, thick with cedar and fir. Running right through the valley was a good-sized stream, flat boulders strewn like stepping stones peeking out of the water. The roar of a distant waterfall could be heard above the rustling pines. In the distance, Mount Hood, huge and majestic, towered over the valley like a benevolent giant.

  To our right was the resort itself. The main building was a large pine lodge with an expansive deck facing the lake. Smoke curled out of the rock chimney and the aroma of a barbecue somewhere nearly made me weep with happiness. Women lounged on porch swings and strolled the grounds, quite a few of them coming over to greet the new arrivals.

  Surrounding the lodge on all sides, all the way down to the lake, were dozens of tiny cabins nestled among the trees. The paths leading to each cabin were bordered by geraniums and pansies, and whenever one of the paths crossed the stream, a wooden footbridge arched across it.

  Every so often I thought I caught the faint but distinctive odor of sulphur floating on the breeze. Sure enough, interspersed among the trees, tell-tale puffs of steam rose from the hot tubs behind the cabins. If this wasn't paradise, it was close to it. I eased myself out of the saddle and patted Diablo's sweaty neck. The horse eyed me suspiciously for a moment, then arched his neck toward me, showing me where to scratch.

  "You're nothing but a big baby," I teased, scratching behind his ears. He showed me his teeth and nickered softly.

  "I think he likes you," a woman said, startling me. "Kind of a love-hate relationship, huh?" I turned to see a plain-looking woman grinning down at me from her horse. Her mousy brown hair was streaked with gray and tied back in a ponytail that hung nearly to the saddle. Her gray eyes held amusement.

  "Uh, this is Fay Daniels," Karen said. "She's our newest staff member, which means she's stuck with all the grunt work. This is Cassidy James, cowgirl extraordinaire."

  "Glad to meet you," Fay said, reaching down to extend a calloused hand. Her fingers were thick and sturdy. I thought of Allison's list, trying to recall if there'd been an asterisk next to Fay's name. I didn't think so. Maybe because she was new to the group, I thought.

  Karen climbed off her big red mare and stretched her legs. I hadn't realized just how tall she was until Fay dismounted and stood next to her. Karen was lanky next to Fay's sturdy, squarish frame.

  "If I don't eat soon, I'm going to faint," I admitted. "How do meals work around here?"

  "Two ways," Karen said. "First, every cabin has a little fridge that's kept fairly well-stocked and a kitchenette. Also, there's a mini-mart inside the lodge, so you can re-stock the basics. Then there's the dining room which serves breakfast, lunch and dinner. Dinner's not until seven, though, so if you're really starving, you'd better grab something from the mini-mart or see what's in your fridge. Didn't you read all this in the brochure?"

  I thought quickly. "Actually, I never saw the brochure. A couple of friends chipped in and treated me as a surprise. I just found out about it a few days ago."

  "Must be pretty good friends. This place isn't cheap," Fay said. "If officers didn't get half-price, I'm not sure I could afford it."

  "At least we can write it off as a business expense," Karen said. "Allison keeps reminding us not to call it a vacation, but a working retreat."

  The ranch hands who had been leading the horses into a large corral finally came and took ours away. I started to pat Diablo on the rear but thought better of it. No sense pushing my luck.

  "Which cabin is yours?" Karen asked.

  "Something called Cascade. Any idea which direction I should go?"

  "No clue. But you can ask in the lodge. You could wander around for days before you'd find it. I'm in Mother Goose, which is off to the right, I think. Maybe we'll see you at dinner?"

  "If I haven't passed out from hunger, I'll be there."

  I watched them walk away, Karen's long legs taking sure strides toward her cabin, her suitcase balanced on her shoulder, with Fay working to keep pace beside her. Neither looked like a killer, I thought. But then again, Jeffrey Dahmer hadn't looked like a cannibal either. I knew from past experiences that first impressions weren't always all they were cracked up to be.

  Chapter Five

  The woman at the registration desk was wearing a red-checkered flannel shirt with pearl snap buttons and a pair of well-worn jeans tucked into boots. She had turquoise rings on nearly every finger, a turquoise bracelet on each wrist and even a turquoise bolo around her neck. Her black hair was shot through with gray and tied back with a red scarf. Her face was as weather-beaten as a rancher's. She gave me directions to Cascade, which she assured me was one of the nicer cabins. "Not that they're not all nice," she added hastily in a raspy, smoker's voice.

  "Don't I need a key?"

  "Th
e room's unlocked, but there's a key on the table. A lot of people like to get right to their cabin after riding up here. If we made everyone check in first, it would just make their wait that much longer."

  "Someone said there was a mini-mart where I could buy something to eat?"

  "Oh, honey, you don't need to shop yet. Just check your icebox."

  It had been years since I'd heard anyone refer to a refrigerator as an ice box. I smiled and went in search of my cabin.

  She was right. Cascade sat high on a knoll, in a small clearing surrounded by trees. The afternoon sun was beating down on the porch and the stream ran right in front of it. I stood for a minute enjoying the view, not just of the nature around me, but of the many women meandering by. With a sudden pang, I wished with all my heart that Maggie had come with me.

  I turned back toward the cabin, a rustic pine and cedar duplex. Allison said she'd gotten us a suite, but this was really two separate cabins with a common wall. The shared porch was divided by a rock retainer so people in both cabins could sit out front and maintain their privacy.

  When I pushed open the door, I was pleasantly surprised. I'd expected rugged furnishings, but the place was quite homey. I stepped into what was essentially one large room and noticed logs already laid in the fireplace. The bay windows looked out to the lake and let sunlight into the room. There was a tiny but serviceable kitchen in the far corner and a queen-sized bed against the other wall. But a quick survey told me what I'd feared. There was no phone in the room. It seemed I'd hauled my fancy tape recording equipment and laptop up here for nothing. So much for long-range sleuthing. I'd have to rely on gathering information from the women themselves. Without going one step farther, I set my bag on the floor and headed straight for the fridge. I practically fainted with happiness. It was loaded!