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Mystery at the Fair

Page 5

by Connie Cockrell

Karen shook her head. "Really, we're good."

  Jean sat at the end, next to Karen. "I appreciate you seeing us, Ari. What can you tell us?"

  "I have an acquaintance, Josh Marlow, that I know went with Ina before she started seeing Arris. We were friends as kids but, not to speak bad of the guy, he's not much of a success as an adult. He was in the military for awhile but came back after his first tour. He works over at the K Bar Seven at the south end of Rancho Verde as a cowhand. He lives in the doublewide they keep for the hands."

  Jean was surprised. She had no idea there were still cowhands. "He's divorced?"

  Ari smoothed his daughter's brown curls. "No, he never married. He thinks he's a player, but really any woman he's gone out with has pegged him for what he is and moved on."

  "Why do you think he's suspicious?"

  He answered after blowing his daughter a kiss. "He was angry at Ina for dumping him. He made it pretty clear at the local bar that she had made a big mistake."

  "You think he's capable of murder?" Jean asked him.

  "I'd like to say no, but he came back from Afghanistan different." He looked at both women, his head shaking. "I don't know. I hope not."

  Jean got up. "Thank you for meeting with us. I appreciate it."

  "Me too," Karen said as she rose. "Let me give that darling a smooch." Ari handed over the baby, whose face began to screw up, eyes big with fear. "Don't worry, sweetie. Cousin Karen won't hurt you." She gave the girl a kiss on the cheek and handed her back to her father before she decided to cry.

  He walked them to the door. "We've got to get together more often, Karen. Come down after the fair. I'll call some of the rest of the family and we'll have a barbeque."

  "Sounds good, Ari."

  The women walked to the car. Karen waved before she got in. In just a moment, they were back out on the highway. Jean was nervous about meeting this cowhand. He sounded like a jerk and really, her ex was the last jerk she'd hoped to have to deal with.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Karen directed Jean to the K Bar Seven ranch. "How do we find the double-wide?" Jean asked.

  "There may be a sign but it's probably near the barns. We'll drive in and see. If we have to, we'll stop at the house and ask."

  "People are okay with random cars driving around their property?"

  "We're not random. We're visiting."

  Jean laughed. "That'll be good to remember when we have a shotgun pointed at us."

  It turned out to be easier than Jean expected. There was a sign to the bunkhouse, as well as to the main house, the barns, several corrals and the grain barn. Jean parked outside the bunkhouse. Every light in the place was on, shining out to the parking lot. There were four pickups parked in front of the front door. "This must be the place."

  Karen got out and Jean followed. She walked right up the three wooden steps to the front door and knocked. There was no porch or even a small deck. A young man, mid-twenties, dressed in a soft cotton plaid work shirt, jeans and with bare feet answered the door. "Yeah?"

  "We're looking for Josh Marlow," Karen told him.

  He stepped inside, leaving the door ajar. "Josh, two ladies here to see you."

  The women could hear the TV blasting and some guys laughing and hooting. One voice called out, "Way to go, dude!"

  Another shouted, "Hey, you need to share."

  More laughing, then someone said, "Shut up."

  The door flew open. A middle-aged man stood there, black hair going gray curled over his ears. He had on a faded denim work shirt, jeans and flip-flops. He looked them over, then scratched at the three-day-old-beard, also going gray. "Do I know you?"

  Karen backed down the steps. "No, we've never met, but my cousin Ari Robertson told me where you were."

  Josh looked them over, then came outside, closing the door behind him. As he came down the steps, Jean noticed he was slender but well muscled. She and Karen stood together. He stopped about three feet from them. "What's this about?" There was just enough light from the windows to see his brown eyes studying them.

  "Did you hear that Ina Grange died?" Jean asked.

  "I heard." He stuck his hands in his back pockets. "What of it, and who are you?"

  Jean didn't have a good feeling about this, out here in the dark on a strange ranch with a guy she suspected of killing someone. "Well, I found the body and it's been bothering me, you know, her death. So I thought I'd find some of her friends and, uh, talk to them. I'm Jean Hays and this is Ari's cousin, Karen."

  He turned his head and spit out into the dark. "So?"

  Jean gathered up her courage in the face of his defiance. "Did you know her well?"

  Josh smirked. "We partied. I had to dump her though, after awhile." He stared at Jean. "Your name sounds familiar. You from around here?"

  "No, I just moved here a few months ago." Jean fidgeted with the seam of her shorts. Her hands had grown sweaty. "I heard Ina dumped you for Arris Van Horn."

  He scowled and jerked his hand out of his pocket. He pointed his finger at them. "That's a damn lie. No skanky cow ever dumped me. I dumped her."

  Despite the jolt of fear that bolted through her, Jean asked, "I heard she had money and that's why you dated her."

  His mouth opened, then shut. "I'm no toy boy," he said through clenched teeth. "She had a problem."

  "What problem?"

  "She couldn't stay out of the casino. She blew through money faster than anyone I've ever seen." He peered at Jean again. "I know your name from somewhere. You have a relative named Dwight?"

  Jean's breath stopped in her throat as a wave of surprise washed over her. "My ex-husband's name is Dwight."

  "Dwight Hays." Josh slapped a hand on his thigh. "I knew it! Me and him went to tech school together. I washed out and spent the rest of my time in the Air Force in Afghanistan drivin' trucks. The military sucked. Afghanistan sucked. I came home."

  His face clouded and he pointed a finger at them again. "Don't be tryin' to pin Ina's murder on me. I ain't seen her since last November."

  "You weren't mad when she started dating Arris?"

  "No, I got enough problems of my own. I don't need any of somebody else's." He turned back to the house, then spun around. "I ain't seen her since November," he scowled at them. "Best you remember that." He turned again and pounded up the steps and into the house, slamming the door behind him.

  The sound of the other men questioning him drifted out to them over the sound of the TV. "I'm not sure that was helpful," Jean said as they walked to the car.

  "He seemed pretty defensive about the last time he saw Ina," Karen offered as she got in and shut the door.

  "Yeah. He did. Did you know Ina had a gambling problem?" Jean started the car and turned it around.

  "No, I didn't. That's a shame. She was a nice person, really." When they'd covered the long driveway and were back on the highway, Karen asked, "What about him knowing your ex?"

  "Two peas in a pod, I'd say. They must have been best buds in tech school."

  "Small world."

  "Yeah, small world." Jean gripped the steering wheel. Talking to Josh was like talking to Dwight. Everything snarky and slimy. She swallowed her distaste of both men and focused on Ina. First, it's Analise and jealousy over Arris, then Vera and stiff quilting competition and now, a gambling problem. Would a sanctioned casino send bullies after a person? Would an aging woman kill over quilts? Jean had no idea.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was nine thirty before Karen walked through the garage door into her kitchen. Home-sewn curtains hung at the windows, white with embroidered cactuses on them. They were pulled so the neighbors, just thirty feet away, couldn't see in. The kitchen had hand-painted ceramic tiles for a backsplash and similar tiles covered the wall behind the stove. Pale yellow paint covered the exposed walls. Karen loved how the room glowed when the sun shone through the windows. She loved her house but sometimes she wished she didn't live in a development with only a fifth of an acre for the ho
use and yard. She dropped her purse and keys on the counter next to the door.

  She found her twenty-two-year-old daughter, Peggy, in the kitchen, setting up the coffee pot for the next morning. "Hi, Mom. You're home late. Everything all right at the fair?"

  "Yeah." Karen went to the fridge and removed a pitcher of iced tea. She poured a glass, put the pitcher back and sat down at the table. "The fan failed, making the building hot as hell. Jean handled it well. There were a lot more entries this year than last. I'm glad. I like to see a lot of people involved."

  Peggy sat at the table with her mother. She smoothed the crocheted place mat in front of her. It had the cactus theme as well. "So you had to stay three extra hours?"

  "No." Karen waved her hand. "We went to talk to your cousin Ari, who gave us a lead on a guy named Josh Marlow who was one of Ina's lovers just before Arris. We thought he might know something about her death." She drank a quarter of the glass of tea. "Gosh, I'm so thirsty tonight."

  "Mom, you and Jean went to talk to this guy? Thinking he might be a killer?" Peggy's voice rose to a squeak.

  "He was a bit peeved but he was all right." She yawned and rubbed her eyes. It had been a long day in the heat. She wanted nothing better than to get a shower and go to bed.

  "Jeez, Mom. You could have been killed!"

  "I don't think so. The guy is a jerk but I don't know if he'd be capable of killing anyone." She decided to refrain from telling her daughter the guy spent time in the Air Force in Afghanistan. "How about you? How was the doctor's office today?" Her daughter worked as a receptionist in the office of a local general practitioner.

  "I kept the files in order, but it was a struggle. The doctor just takes things willy-nilly. No wonder they're such a mess. I went to class at six; I barely had time to get out of the office and over to the college. It was a lab today, our first practice giving shots. They use oranges." She made a face. "The instructor says that's exactly what it feels like when you give a person a shot."

  Karen shuddered. She never was attracted to the medical field—too many fluids for her taste. Having a baby had been bad enough. "Did you get the hang of it?"

  "It was weird at first, but I think I have it down. Tyler met me afterward and took me to the diner for supper."

  Karen nodded but inwardly wished her daughter would date someone else. Tyler was twenty-five and still trying to find himself. She thought he was going to end up like Josh Marlow: working hard labor, seasonal jobs and on welfare the rest of the time. "That's nice." She finished her tea. "We still don't have ribbons. Jean will have to drive over to Gila County and borrow some from them tomorrow."

  "Oh, Mom. How awful. Have you heard anything else about Ms. Grange? All the paper said was that it was being investigated."

  "No." Karen stood up and walked to the sink to rinse her glass out. "Jean said everything from the container is being processed by the police." She wiped her hand on a tea towel she'd crocheted a top to. "I heard poor Arris has been questioned already."

  Peggy rose from her chair. "How awful."

  "I'm heading up to my room to take a shower and go to bed, honey. Are you staying up?"

  "No, I'm going to my room to read my homework."

  The two left the kitchen, turned out the lights and went upstairs.

  #

  Peggy slid out her desk chair and sat down after she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. Her room still reflected her taste from her high school years. The space was decorated in pink and white with stuffed animals filling every flat spot in the room. Posters of teen heartthrobs were pinned to the walls. She hit the speed dial.

  "Hi, Beautiful," she heard when it picked up.

  "Hi, Tyler. Mom's finally home. I thought I'd call and say good-night." Peggy propped her elbows on the desk, shoving her textbook to the side.

  "She say anything?"

  "She said the cops still have their ribbons. They have to make a run to the next county to borrow some." She pulled her dark brown hair out of the ponytail it was in and rubbed the sore spot at the back of her head where it had been gathered. "She and Jean went to question some guy about his relationship with Ina Grange. I told her that was stupid. He could have killed them."

  "Yeah, not a good move. What's his name?"

  Peggy flopped back in her chair. "Uh, J something. Jason. No, not Jason. Josh, that was it."

  "Oh, I don't recognize the name."

  "Me neither, but how horrible for poor Mr. Van Horn. He's always been really nice to me."

  There was a long pause before Tyler said, "Yeah. Nice guy."

  Peggy yawned while she wondered about his tone. "Do you know him?"

  "I've done some work for him. Kind of a hard-ass."

  "Oh, I'm sorry, Tyler." She yawned again. "Look, I've got a chapter to read before I go to bed. See you tomorrow?"

  "Sure," Tyler promised. "When do you get off?"

  She told him, then made kissy noises into the phone. "Night, Tyler."

  "Night, Peg."

  It occurred to her only after she clicked off to ask what he did for Arris. She'd try and remember to ask him tomorrow.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jean rose at six in the morning. She wanted to get over to her contact from the Gila County fair and get the ribbons, then get back so they could be put on the appropriate exhibits before too late in the day. After her usual cup of Earl Grey tea while she checked her email, she had two eggs scrambled with Swiss Chard and cherry tomatoes for breakfast. The tomatoes were a gift from Karen's garden. Jean hadn't felt confident enough about the climate to start a garden yet. Maybe next year. She washed up the dishes, then went back to her bedroom to change out of her t-shirt and knit shorts into a blouse and khaki shorts for the day.

  She skipped taking a lunch, deciding to grab lunch at the fair or in town, depending on how long it took her to get back from Gila County. All that was left was to grab her keys and head out the door. She left the house through the door to the carport and locked it. It wasn't until she was right next to the car that she saw the words STOP INVESTIGATING, scrawled in soap across her windshield. She stopped short and stared, her mouth gone dry.

  What? Who did this? She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket with shaky hands. Her eyes drifted over the rest of the car. That's when she noticed that the front driver's-side tire was flat. Oh no! A quick investigation showed that all four tires were flat. She looked around the carport. Nothing else seemed to be disturbed.

  She dialed 911. "My car's been vandalized," she told the operator. She was redirected to the Police Department since the crime wasn't in progress. She spoke to Martha Horner. After a greeting, she gave the receptionist her address. "Yes, I'll be here." She clicked off, still shaking. Jean went to her door, unlocked it and went inside and sat down at the kitchen table. Her thoughts flew around and around in her brain in a panic. Oh my God, was all she could think. Ten minutes later there was a knock on the door. Jean jumped, then realized it must be the police. She opened the door, where a young male police officer stood.

  "Ms. Hays?"

  "Yes, yes, that's me."

  They walked around the car together, the officer taking notes the whole while. Jean saw a tow truck pull up to the end of her driveway and stop next to the police cruiser. The officer noticed her attention had moved. His gaze followed hers out to the street. "Oh, yeah, we'll tow your car to the lab and have it dusted for fingerprints."

  She nodded. Everything felt so surreal, as though she were underwater. The sunny day felt suddenly dark. "Um, yeah. Sure."

  "Do you know anyone who would do this to your property, Ms. Hays?"

  She was watching the tow truck operator back into her driveway. "What?"

  "Who would do this to you, Ms. Hays?"

  Her mouth opened and closed twice before she could form any coherent thought. "No one. I mean, I don't know. I've only lived here a few months."

  "What are you investigating, Ms. Hays?"

  "Uhm." She watched
the truck operator lower two ramps from the back of his truck. "I found the body."

  "You're referring to the murder victim, Ina Grange?"

  "Yes. I don't think Arris did it. I was asking around."

  The young man frowned at her. "You shouldn't be interfering in police business, ma'am."

  "No, yes." Flustered, she pulled her attention away from the truck and back to the officer. "I mean, you're right. I don't want to do that."

  He nodded and slid the notebook into his pocket along with his pen. "Is there someone you can call? It's a shock to be vandalized like this."

  She licked her lips. Call someone? "Yes, I can call my son."

  The officer pulled the microphone from his shoulder and identified himself with a number. "Tow truck on scene. No injuries to the owner. Car had tires slashed and a warning soaped on the windshield."

  "Understand, 103," came the static-laden reply. "Canvas the scene for any neighbors who might have seen something. Notify us when you've cleared the scene."

  "Roger, base." He put the microphone back on his shoulder. "Do you want someone to stay with you, Ms. Hays?"

  She shook her head slowly back and forth. "No, I'll be fine. I'll call my son. Thank you, Officer."

  She watched as the driver of the truck hooked chains to her car and pulled it up onto the flatbed. It took no time at all after that for him to retract his ramps and drive off with her car. The officer left and she was alone. Jean went into the house and sat down on the sofa. The digital clock on the DVR told her it was 09:34. So much for getting an early start. She called Karen. "Can you come and get me? My car tires were slashed. I don't have any way around."

  "Oh my God! Are you all right?"

  "Yeah, I'm fine. But I need to rent a car and I need to open the Exhibits building."

  "I'll be right over, sweetie."

  They clicked off. Jean sat staring out of her living room window to the street. Who would do this? Stop investigating. I've only really talked to one person, Josh Marlow. Was it him? He found out where I live and he tracked me down? That can't be it. But who else could it be?

  Questions whirled around in her mind until the doorbell rang. Getting off of the sofa seemed to Jean to be very hard to do. Karen stood there when she opened the front door. She gave Jean a bear hug. "You're okay? You weren't hurt?"

 

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