by Marja McGraw
Old Murders Never Die
A Sandi Webster Mystery
by
Marja McGraw
Old Murders Never Die, A Sandi Webster Mystery, Copyright 2011, 2013 Marja McGraw
All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, in writing from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used in critical articles and reviews. For information, email address: [email protected].
First Edition, 2011
Second Edition, 2013
Cover Design by Marja McGraw
Editing by Marja McGraw
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual person living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
For my grandfather, Joseph, who taught me that life is what you make of it, and who made the most of every day of his own life.
Acknowledgements
Thank you to Judith Lang and Dorothy Bodoin who made time during their busy days to critique my work and offer helpful comments. Thank you to Al McGraw for the title, Old Murders Never Die, and for reading the manuscript from a male point of view and offering priceless comments. Thank you to Jill Shelton for listening when I needed to be heard and for offering helpful suggestions. And, lastly, thank you to the real Bubba, and Sugar and Murphy, who come up with some of the doggie antics in my stories.
June 15, 1881
Wolf Creek, Arizona
She was running for her life and she knew no one would be looking for her yet. Her long dress slowed her down. She took hold of the skirt and lifted it, but it didn’t help – the fabric kept wrapping around her legs. Her dress, a hand-me-down, had belonged to her neighbor. It was too long for her, but she’d wanted to wear it to the town picnic. She thought it was so pretty, and now it was turning out to be a death trap.
Her breath came in deep rasps and her chest hurt. She didn’t know how far she could go, but she knew it wouldn’t be far enough to lose her pursuer. She thought she could hear him calling her name.
Too close, she thought. A tear slid down her face – one lonely tear. She didn’t notice as others began to follow along the track the first tear had left. She wanted to yell for help, but she didn’t have the breath and there was no one close enough to hear.
Her head swung back and forth as she ran, looking for a place to conceal herself. She dropped the skirt of her dress and tripped on it, falling to her knees.
That was the end for Annie. She couldn’t pull herself up, and he was closer. She tried to crawl but her strength was gone. Covering her face with her hands, she cried in gut-wrenching sobs. It didn’t matter if he heard her because she couldn’t run anymore. It was over.
She wondered what she could have done to bring this terror into her life. The man was so angry, but there didn’t seem to be a reason for his rage. She was a good woman. She was always kind and patient, and… What about her husband? He must be missing her by now. No, he was in charge of games at the town picnic. He probably didn’t even realize she was gone.
She cried harder, if that was possible.
“You done now?” a male voice asked. His tone somehow made her feel embarrassed for crying. She wanted to be as strong as he was angry, but she wasn’t.
It was as though someone had blown out a flame. The sound of his voice stopped the tears and she slowly moved her hands away from her face. Looking into his eyes, all she could see were unexpected depths of evil. She lowered her head and prayed for her husband and the unborn baby she carried. She knew her moments on earth were over. She hadn’t even told her husband there was a baby on the way. She wanted to wait until their wedding anniversary, only three days away. Instinctively she clasped her hands protectively over her belly.
“Please don’t,” she begged. “I’m carrying a – ”
With a smile that matched the evil in his eyes, the man lifted his hand and brought the knife down in a slicing motion, taking the most precious of things from Annie – her life and that of her unborn baby. He stabbed her again, making sure his work was done. The rage filling his head ebbed with the death of the young woman. He had to do what he had to do, and nothing else mattered.
He picked up her lifeless body and carried it to the creek, dropping her in the water unceremoniously before he washed the blood from his hands.
His smile had disappeared and in its place was a brief look of sadness brought on by what he’d done. He easily shook the feeling off and turned back toward town and the picnic.
Chapter One
“Pete, where are we? Are we lost?” I asked. My words sounded accusing, but I was actually happy. I hadn’t necessarily wanted to go camping, but I’d been ready to do just about anything with him.
“Wasn’t that kind of the idea? To take a vacation and lose ourselves in the high desert?” He was smiling, knowing I wasn’t really upset. I’d been more than ready for this getaway trip.
I glanced around at my surroundings. “I didn’t realize Arizona had mountains like this. What do you think our elevation is?”
“I’m surprised you care,” he replied. He knew I didn’t really want to camp out, but he also figured I was a good sport. “If I had to guess, I’d say we’re probably around four thousand feet, give or take a little. Maybe five thousand. We’re high enough to get away from the heat and low enough not to freeze at night. We probably won’t go all the way up the mountain.”
“It’s the middle of June. I doubt if it would be too cold at night.”
“You never know. Higher elevations can hold all kinds of surprises. And I know how much you like surprises.”
I shifted in my seat, turning to him. “I could go for the rest of my life without another surprise and it wouldn’t break my heart.”
My name is Sandi Webster. Peter Goldberg and I are private investigators who work out of Los Angeles, California. We’ve worked on a number of interesting cases. During my short career I’ve received a few unwanted surprises, like dead bodies. Most of my cases involve working for insurance companies, but like Homicide Detective Rick Mason once said, I’m like a dead body magnet. I don’t want to investigate murders, but they kept turning up, right under my nose.
Now we were on vacation and we’d left all of that behind. I could enjoy a trip with my fiancé and forget everything else. We seemed to be in the middle of nowhere without towns or people, so that meant no deaths or broken bodies. Just me, Pete and Bubba. Oh, yeah, Bubba is my bear-sized dog, half wolf and half golden retriever. What more could a girl ask for?
We were sitting in Pete’s four-wheel drive black Jeep Liberty and the back was loaded with a tent, food and other essentials, including Bubba. We’d stopped to see my mother and stepfather in Bullhead City, Arizona, and then driven toward the San Francisco Mountains in Coconino County, for a week of peace and quiet, and camping.
Pete had turned off on a dirt road, and then another, and… The last dirt road had appeared to be not much more than an overgrown trail.
“Sandi, where did you put the map?” He brought the Jeep to a stop.
I turned to the back seat and grabbed the map from under the GPS. “We certainly don’t need to worry about getting lost. Maps, GPS and your experience with camping are going to make this an interesting trip. I was just joking about being lost. We aren’t, are we?”
“I may have some experience, but I’m not familiar with this area. I’ve never camped in Arizona. Let me see the map.”
“We really are lost, aren’t we?”
“Nah. If I can’t find what I want on the map, we�
��ve always got the GPS. We’ll never be lost.” Famous last words.
“Uh huh.” Yeah, we were lost. I opened a chocolate candy bar and began munching. Chocolate always made me feel better.
Pete studied the page. We’d been to Flagstaff and then headed north toward Humphreys Peak. After leaving the main road, we’d headed off on our own, but I knew at some point we’d have to hike. The road had become rough and narrow, not much more than a bumpy, pitted trail.
I climbed out of the Jeep. “Let’s take a break. I’m hungry. Breakfast was a long time ago,” I said, glancing at my watch. It was two o’clock in the afternoon. My stomach was rumbling. “Besides, I’m sure Bubba needs to make a pit stop.”
“Good idea.” He climbed out of the car and set the map on the car seat. “Let’s take a quick hike over that rise up ahead and then we’ll settle down with a sandwich. We need to find a good place to camp tonight before it gets much later.”
“Let’s eat first.” I pulled two meatloaf sandwiches out of the cooler in the back of the car. I was too hungry to wait. Opening the side door, I let Bubba clamber out, which was no easy task for the big guy.
Pete shrugged and picked up three bottles of water and the dog’s water dish before following me to a boulder where we could sit down.
After lapping up the water, Bubba chased a rabbit toward the incline Pete wanted to investigate. I let him go, knowing he’d come back in a few minutes. He never caught animals, although I was sure he could. For such a huge dog, he was surprisingly fast. He just enjoyed the game of chasing them.
We ate in silence, listening to the sounds of nature. Birds twittered and the brush behind us rustled as some creature moved through our space – maybe another rabbit. My mother had made the sandwiches for us, saying we needed something to get us through the first few days. She’d prepared turkey sandwiches, making sure we wouldn’t go hungry. And there were tuna sandwiches. She’d been busy.
We finished eating and Pete stood, stretching. “Now isn’t this better than fighting the traffic in L.A.?”
“Sure. I can’t help wondering how Stanley is doing, though. We’ve never left him alone in the office for this long before.” Stanley started out as one of our first clients and became a good friend and employee. He was a nerdy little guy, but we loved him. He’d come a long way in the business and we’d left him the phone numbers of a couple of people who could help him if he needed anything while we were gone.
“Stan will do just fine,” Pete said. “Things are relatively quiet right now anyway. Quit worrying and enjoy yourself.”
I smiled. “You’re right. He can take care of things.” I stood up next to him and rubbed his shoulders. He’d been doing a lot of driving and I knew he was probably tired.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s take that hike now and see what’s over the rise.” He pointed in the direction Bubba had taken and we began walking.
It turned out to be farther than it looked. Reaching the top, we looked out over a breathtaking view of trees and brush, and what looked like wild grass.
“You don’t expect to see places like this in Arizona. I thought it was all desert.” I was surprised at the beauty of the area.
“Let’s hike down a ways,” he said, nodding.
The road had disappeared, although it appeared that at one time there might have been some kind of trail leading into this valley. It wasn’t really a valley, but I couldn’t think of any other word to describe it.
“Why don’t we camp here tonight?” I asked.
Bubba returned, grinning at me. His smile startled people because he looked like he was snarling at them. It was a very toothy grin. He was actually a friendly animal, as long as no one was threatening me.
“Not a bad idea. I can see a creek down below so we’ll have plenty of water.” He pointed through the trees and I could just make out what looked like a small stream. It looked like there might be a clearing nearby, too.
We walked for another few minutes before Pete stopped. “This is perfect. Let’s go back and get our camping gear. We’ll just bring down enough for tonight.”
I sighed, one of many bad habits I have. So far I was getting a lot more exercise than I was used to, or wanted, and my legs were telling me to quit it. I reminded myself it wouldn’t be long before I could sit down and relax.
“We’ll put up the tent over there,” he said, pointing to the clearing I’d seen. “I’ll set up a cook stove and we can settle in. I’ll find some wood to build a small fire and you can help me.”
So much for relaxing. “Didn’t you bring a portable thingy to give us heat?” I asked.
“Sandi, we’re camping. It’s going to take some work on your part. You’ve had it too easy for too long. Now you’re going to learn a little about what it was like to be a pioneer.”
“Oh, goody.” I was not thrilled.
I began to turn back to the trail when I saw something through the trees. “Doesn’t that look like a house?”
He stopped and looked in the direction I was facing. “Oh, great. Now we won’t be able to camp here tonight. We’re probably trespassing. Let’s go check it out and let whoever lives there know we’re not here to ruin his day.”
It took a few minutes to find our way through the trees to the house. Bubba had run ahead and was already there and waiting for us.
“Pete! Look at that place. That’s a vintage house if I’ve ever seen one.”
“A vintage house? How about an abandoned home? And from the looks of it, it’s been empty for a lot of years.” He headed for the house, sounding more than interested. He was definitely intrigued.
I followed, taking in the rest of the area. “Look over there,” I said, pointing. “Doesn’t that look like there might have been another building there at some time?” I could just make out the foundation of something. Another house? My eyes widened as I looked past the foundation.
“Where?” Pete turned to find what I was looking at, but he was quicker than me. “I see more than a foundation.”
We could see a few of other buildings through the trees. We stepped forward, trying to get a better look.
“Do you know what I think?” He didn’t wait for my answer. “I think we’ve stumbled onto a ghost town.”
Bubba let out a deep woof, sounding as though he agreed with Pete.
“Where did you put that map?” I asked. “Let’s see if this place is listed.”
He’d retrieved it from the car, carefully folding it and putting it in his backpack after we’d eaten. Now he pulled it out and opened it to the section showing where we were. “This doesn’t show anything here. We’re in the wilderness.”
“You mean we might have actually discovered a ghost town? One that’s never been seen since people lived here?” My heart skipped a beat. This was exciting, and it could make our whole trip worthwhile. I was doing something Pete enjoyed because I cared so much about him, and it was turning into a memorable adventure.
“Let’s do some exploring before we go back to the car.” He headed for the building we’d originally set out to look at with a new energy in his stride. Bubba followed him.
I studied the house. The steep roof was missing a few shingles, but other than that it was still there. The shingles seemed to have slightly curled with age at the edges. The faded thick wooden boards of the house had been dovetailed together at the corners, fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. None of the boards seemed to be missing, but a few had split and pieces had fallen out. Of course, after so many years there were no windows. One opening had been boarded over. The building looked L-shaped, as though a room was jutting out slightly at one end in the front. I could see a small room at the rear which resembled a shed. It wasn’t as tall as the rest of the home. I was standing in front and to the right side of the house, so I had a decent view of the place.
“I can see the front door,” Pete said, “but it’s going to take some work to get to it.”
He was right. The front of the house wa
s thick with bushes, tall weeds and wild flowers. A huge tree had died and fallen in front of the place.
“Can we get to it?” I asked.
“You stay here and I’ll check it out.” He headed for the house, appearing to try to move close to the walls. Maybe he could sidle along to the door.
“Pete?”
He looked over his shoulder at me.
“Watch out for snakes.”
He grimaced and turned back to the house, disappearing behind the foliage, but I could hear his progress. Bubba followed right behind him, and I heard him say, “Back off, you mangy mutt.”
A sound broke the silence. I could have sworn I heard a horn honk. There was no way to tell where the noise had come from. We were alone. It couldn’t have been a horn, and Bubba hadn’t reacted to the noise. I turned back toward Pete.
“Anything?” I called.
“I’m getting there,” he yelled back. “I can step on the brush beside the house.”
I waited. And I waited. I heard a pounding noise.
“Pete?”
“You can get through. Follow the direction I took.” His voice sounded muffled and strained.
Heading for the edge of the house, I found where he’d stepped on the weeds and brush to get through to the house. I could still hear the pounding.
“What’s that noise?” I called.
“The door is stuck.”
Bubba barked his encouragement while Pete continued to pound on the door.
Of course, it was stuck. No one had probably been here in a hundred years. Stopping, I tried to peer through one of the window openings. It was too dark to see inside, so I kept creeping along the edge of the house.
I heard Pete grunting and groaning, trying to open the door. There was a loud screech and I knew he’d conquered the door. I tried to move faster.
“Hurry up, Sandi, you’re not going to believe this.” His voice sounded far off to me.
