by Marja McGraw
“I wanted to let you know I’m going to call the neighbors tonight to let them know you’re coming to talk to them. We’ll be gone all day tomorrow, and I had a feeling you wouldn’t want to wait.”
“Thanks!”
He pointed at two houses across the dirt road. “The one on the left is where Zetta and Bill Ellison live. On the right is where Shirley and Jeff Shaw live. Racheal said she told you about them already. None of the other neighbors lived here when everything happened.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Brad lived here back then. He lives in the beat up old mobile home down the street. He kind of keeps to himself, most of the time.”
“Tyler, what did Barbara look like? I’m just curious. You know, having a description of the people involved helps me keep it straight in my head.”
His look said he didn’t quite believe me, but he wasn’t sure why I wanted to know and he wasn’t curious enough to ask. “Barbara was in her early fifties at the time of the killings. Her hair was what I think they call salt and pepper, part grey and part black. She wasn’t really pretty, but I think some people would call her a handsome woman.”
“Ah, there’s the writer in you coming out. A handsome woman is a good description.”
He grinned. “I’ll have to bring you one of my books to read. Anyway, for a woman her age she had a good figure. Working here on the ranch seemed to keep her in shape. Let me think.” He paused. “Salt and pepper hair, good figure, handsome woman, and… Oh, yeah. I don’t know how I could forget. She had a faint scar that ran down the right side of her face. She was in a bad accident when she was still lawyering, but it didn’t leave a mark except the faint scar. I guess that’s about it.”
“How tall was she?” I was honestly trying to picture the woman in my mind.
“Oh, I’d say about five foot six or so. She wasn’t dinky like you and your mother. Oops. Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.”
I laughed. “I sometimes forget I’m kind of short because I spend so much time with women who are shorter than I am. Like my mother and Felicity. I have an elderly neighbor at home who’s pretty dinky, too.”
“You and that dog of yours crack me up,” he said. “He’s almost as big as you are, and yet he seems to know who’s the boss.”
I hadn’t given it much thought. Bubba did listen to me when I gave him commands. Huh! I guess I was the alpha dog in his mind. Or, maybe he was playing me.
“I may have to include him in one of my books.”
I smiled. “I’d like that. The big lug should be a character in a book. I’ll have to tell you more about him before we leave for home.”
“We’ll talk.” Tyler had a faraway look in his eyes and I had a feeling he might be thinking of a storyline for one of his books.
I brought him back with a question. “What did Harry Stockholm look like? I might as well get this straight in my head before I talk to the neighbors. It helps when I can put a face on a victim.”
“Harry was a tall, skinny, cranky old man. He was never the same after his wife died. I had a feeling maybe he wished he’d died with her. Although, to be honest, he was cranky before she died, too.”
“What did she die of?” Now I was just being nosey.
“Funny thing. He never told anyone. I was too young to remember her, but my dad said Harry told everyone she’d gotten sick in the middle of the night and he took her to the hospital, and she died on the way. There was no funeral. He told my mother he didn’t like that kind of thing.”
“That family saw more than their share of tragedy.” I had a sudden thought. “Do you know what she looked like?”
“I don’t remember. I’ll take a look at some of the old family photos. I know she was in some of them.”
I hoped she didn’t have long blonde hair, because I’ve never believed in ghosts, and I didn’t want to start now.
Chapter Fifteen
“By the way, Sandi, I should probably mention that the neighbors are in their late eighties now, so you may want to be careful with them.”
“I’m glad you mentioned it, Tyler. I hadn’t even thought about their age. It makes sense though, since the murders took place twenty years ago and these people bought their property at the same time as the Stockholms. They were young at the time, from what I can gather. I’m surprised they’ve all stayed out here since it’s so far to town and medical services.”
“That’s why my parents left. They didn’t want to stay out here in their old age, although they’re not really very old. Racheal and I bought the farm from them when they moved into town.”
“Are they still in Arizona? Do you think I could talk to them, too?”
“They live in Kingman. I’ll speak to my dad. Okay, I’ve gotta go. And don’t forget, I want to get some insider stuff from you about being a private investigator.”
“Let me know when you’re ready to sit down and talk. Besides, it’ll give me an excuse to stop cleaning.”
He laughed before turning around to head home. I liked Tyler and his brother and their wives. They were down-to-earth people, and hard work didn’t seem to scare them off.
Remembering I’d said I’d fix dinner, I headed for the motorhome. Pete had set up the outdoor cook stove we’d bought and I thought I’d try it. I bought plenty of wieners and beans at the store, so I put the beans in a large pot and dropped the wieners in before setting the pot on the stove to start heating.
I reminisced for a moment, remembering when I’d fixed wieners and beans in Wolf Creek. Since we’d been stranded in the ghost town, we hadn’t had a lot of food choices. We were supposed to be going camping, so we only had what we’d brought for our vacation. Those franks and beans had tasted like manna from heaven.
Pete joined me and plopped himself onto a lawn chair to watch what I was doing. He leaned forward and rubbed his ankle.
“Is it bothering you very much?” I asked. “Maybe you should rest for a while.”
“It’s fine. A couple of minutes and I’ll be good as new.”
I knew Pete well. He wasn’t about to let his ankle or leg stop him. He didn’t care that he had a plate and screws in his ankle; he was going to do whatever he wanted to do. Even so, he sat and continued to rub the spot.
“So where did you find your mother earlier today?” he asked.
“She was in the basement, looking it over.” I laughed. “Do you remember that block wall by the stairs? She said it was a good place to hide a body.”
“What an imagination.”
“Yeah, but she keeps me laughing.” When she wasn’t in the throes of menopause, my mother could be pretty funny. “I’m going to have to get even with her for trying to scare me though.”
“Uh oh. I have a feeling the rest of us had better stay out of the line of fire.”
I smiled mischievously. “Probably a good idea.”
I set a chair by the stove and sat down while I stirred the beans. Although this was a stove, it was small, about two feet tall and maybe three feet wide. It even had a little oven. It would come in handy when we next went camping.
Frank joined us. “Believe it or not, I can smell those beans cooking all the way over by the pool. I hope you made plenty, because I’m hungry. By the way, did you hear your mother say she thought that cement slab would be a good place to hide a body? What a character. Life with Livvie is never dull.”
I stood and gave him a quick hug. “You’re good for my mother, Frank. You make her happy, and you seem to understand her. Or, at least you put up with her.”
He hugged me back. “She’s worth the time and effort.”
Pete looked up at him. “When do you want to break up the cement and prove there’s no body there?”
“Tomorrow is soon enough. I think we’ve all had enough for one day. Besides, she doesn’t really believe there’s a body under the cement.”
I glanced back toward the corrals and noticed they’d also cut down a lot of weeds. Good. No place for snakes to hide, at least the slithering kin
d. Now why had I added that? Probably too many thoughts of ghosts and bad guys who were snakes in the grass.
Before long everyone joined us. Felicity brought out the macaroni salad, fruit and drinks, while my mother and Stanley set the picnic table with paper plates and plastic utensils. Another blessing – not many dishes to do after we ate.
While we waited, I fed Bubba and listened to everyone talk. They seemed quite pleased with what we’d accomplished.
Before long I put dinner on the table and things were quiet while we filled that empty spot in our stomachs.
Something didn’t feel right and I looked around for Bubba. He should have been lying by my feet, waiting for a handout. “Anybody seen Bubba?”
“He’s over there, sitting and watching the corrals,” Felicity said. “I don’t know what he’s doing, but he won’t take his eyes off that place.”
Frank stood. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He hurried into the motorhome and came back with a gun in his hand.
“What – ”
Bubba stood and growled, his hackles standing at attention.
“Call your dog, and everyone stay where you are.” Frank slowly headed toward Bubba.
“Bubba, come!” Something was wrong. I didn’t know what it was, but apparently Bubba was in danger, or at least that was the feeling I got from Frank.
“Snake,” Mother said, not too calmly. “That’s Frank’s snake gun. He uses snake shot.”
“Bubba, come now!” I stood up, but Pete pulled me back down.
“Stay here,” he said.
Bubba ignored my command, but at least he stayed where he was.
Stanley jumped out of his seat and stood in front of Felicity with his arms out from his sides, looking very protective – and very pale.
All eyes were on Frank. He moved slowly and methodically, finally raising his gun. The shot made us all jump.
“Got him,” Frank yelled.
Stanley practically deflated. His shoulders sagged before he turned and hugged his wife.
“What was it?” Pete stood and walked toward his new father-in-law.
I followed.
Frank was shaking when we reached him. “I wasn’t really sure it was a snake, but I thought I heard rattling just before your dog growled.”
Bubba slowly approached the snake.
“Stop him,” Frank said. “Now! They’re dangerous even after they’re dead.”
Pete took a step forward. “Bubba, come here!” I’d never heard him sound quite so authoritative before.
Bubba hesitated before returning to us.
Mother joined us. “Was it a rattler?”
“It was a Mohave Green rattler,” Frank replied. “They’re worse than a diamondback rattler; more poisonous. Wait here while I take care of him.”
I grabbed Bubba’s collar and tried to pull him toward the motorhome, but he was being stubborn and wouldn’t move. I even offered him a treat, but he wouldn’t take his eyes off the snake.
Pete gently pulled my hand off Bubba’s collar and took hold of the dog. “Come, boy.”
Darned if that stupid dog didn’t follow Pete, and they left me standing there.
My mother put her arm around my shoulders. “This is the desert, Sandi. We knew what we were getting into. Cutting down all those weeds must have ticked off the snake. Or maybe it was looking for food.”
“Ghosts, snakes, Bubba listening to Pete instead of me? What’s next?”
Some days just don’t take the direction you want them to.
Chapter Sixteen
It was October and the sun was going down earlier every day. My mother commented that it was cooler here than in Bullhead City because the llama ranch was at a higher altitude. Although there were mountains nearby, it wasn’t mountainous in the area of the llama ranch, other than the one small mountain that sat by itself. She said Kingman usually got at least a dusting of snow during the winter months. While it wasn’t cold at the moment, it was cool enough that I went inside and got a sweater.
My mother set lanterns around the motorhome and we sat outside talking until around eight o’clock. There was no TV, no radio and it was kind of nice. We heard coyotes howling off in the distance, and after a while they began to sound closer. Bubba would definitely stay inside at night.
You’re not in Los Angeles anymore, Sandi, I thought to myself. I could get used to the quieter life – maybe. There were no traffic noises or sirens, sounds that I’d become accustomed to in the city. However, there were snakes and coyotes, things I’d rather not become accustomed to.
Frank cut off the snake’s head and buried it to keep Bubba’s curiosity from getting him in trouble. He’d hung the snake’s body across the top of a fence, intending to work with Bubba to make him realize this wasn’t something he should go near. I had a closer look at the snake after it was dead, and sure enough, it had a green tinge to it. Mohave Green was a good name for it.
Felicity and Stanley left us not long after eight and retired to their little apartment. I heard her say, “You’re so brave for protecting me from the snake, love muffin.”
I could see Stanley straighten his back before he put his arm around her waist.
Pete heard her, too, and made a gagging noise.
“Oh, Pete, you know they’re just doing that because they’re newlyweds. Besides, it drives you crazy and they know it.” I understood what they were doing, even if he didn’t.
“But love muffin? Really?”
My mother laughed. “At least she didn’t call him her stud muffin. They make quite a pair, don’t they?”
“They do,” I said. “Mother, you don’t really believe there’s a body hidden around here, do you?”
I wanted to know if she’d been joking, and I could see Pete beginning to fidget. I knew he was ready to go upstairs.
“No, they found all the bodies when the murders were committed. But you have to admit, until we get this place fixed up, it’s kind of spooky. There really are some unusual things, like the block wall and the concrete. Neither one seems to serve a purpose.”
Frank sat forward. “I’ll take a look at the wall. Maybe it’s a weight-bearing wall.”
My husband looked skyward. “Okay, babe, let’s go upstairs and get some sleep. We’ve still got a lot to do tomorrow. It looks like clouds are moving in, too.”
I glanced up and saw he was right. The moon had almost disappeared.
Mother yawned before standing and giving Pete and me a hug. “I’m ready to call it a night, too. We’ll have plenty of time to talk more tomorrow.”
That was the end of our day. We’d only been married for three days, and I was too tired to even think about wifely duties. If I hadn’t been so tired, I never would have thought of them as duties. Sweeping, mopping, looking for my mother, ghosts, and snakes. What a day.
I glanced up at Pete and he was watching me intently. The corners of his mouth slowly turned upward, and suddenly duty didn’t seem like the right word. In fact, I raced him up the stairs, giggling expectantly. Pete didn’t let me down.
Once again, I awoke during the night to hear Bubba roaming around the house. I heard the stairs creak under his weight when he came upstairs and finally settled outside the bedroom door.
~ * ~
Early the next morning, Bubba scratched at the door. I heard him snort, which is a sign he’s ready to go outside and I’d better hurry. I pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt and quietly opened the door, trying to let Pete get a little more sleep. It was still dark out.
I took a flashlight and checked my watch before I made my way downstairs. It was four in the morning.
“Bubba,” I whispered, “you’re a city dog. You shouldn’t be up this early.”
I followed him and he led me through the house to the front door. The security screen was wide, with two doors. I noticed the day before that they’d apparently bent a little. One side made a horrific screech when I tried to open it. I was careful to pull the door to the side befor
e exerting any pressure, but it still made a noise.
My friend, the dog, made a beeline for the nearest tree while I waited on the porch. I wanted more sleep, but Bubba began sniffing every tree, bush and weed, looking for just the right spot to take care of business.
“Would you hurry up?”
It was a pointless request. I knew he’d ignore me. He took his morning trips outdoors quite seriously.
I descended the stairs and sat on the bottom step. With my elbows on my knees, I rested my head in my hands. It was so quiet. Other than the dog moving around there wasn’t a sound.
Bubba finally joined me, sitting on the ground in front of me. I could see him grin by the light from the flashlight. He was happy and relaxed, and unfortunately, I was wide awake. Leaning forward, I hugged him. He was warm and soft and loved having me make over him.
There was no kitchen where I could make coffee or heat a kettle of water for tea, and no microwave to heat water, either. I’d just sit on the steps for a while. I snapped my fingers, remembering the little stove Pete and I bought.
Bubba turned and looked toward the end of the house where the garage sat just about the same time I heard muffled footsteps. I turned off my flashlight to hide myself in the dark, but I wasn’t worried because the dog hadn’t reacted. Besides, I had no doubt he’d protect me with his life if it came to that.
I waited and the footsteps continued to make their way in my direction.
“Who’s out here?” It was Frank’s voice, and he spoke softly.
“It’s Sandi.” I turned on my flashlight.
He walked over and sat next to me. “What are you doing up so early?”
“Bubba needed to go outside. Now I’m wide awake. What about you?”
“I always get up early. Livvie just ignores me and turns over.”
A sudden gust of wind whipped the tree tops back and forth.
“Where did that come from?” I asked. The wind was chilly and I rubbed my arms.