Sometimes Dead Men DO Tell Tales!

by David W. Smith

  In a moment of weakness Lance tried to be considerate. “You know, you can set up filters to send different types of email to different folders. One for business, one for pleasure, one for Mrs. Anderson,” as he read some of the messages over Adam’s shoulder. “Then you would know what you had in your inbox and what you needed to read first.”

  “Now you’re being helpful?” Adam glanced up as he deleted another twenty spams in a row.

  “I’ll admit that watching you work at your computer is fascinating, but we really need to start on the clues. At the speed you’re going, we’ll be here all week.”

  Adam knew when he was beat. He got up from his office chair with a resigned sigh. “Show me.”

  Stifling his grin, Lance sat at the computer. He brought up the Organize section, made a few folders, created some instant filters, and—nice guy that he was—turned the spam filter back on. Highlighting the messages left in Adam’s inbox, he hit the Reorganize button and everything went to its new home. “Any other folders you need, make them here,” Lance pointed with the mouse, “and then the computer will do the rest.”

  “What is that flashing yellow thing?” Adam was looking at an icon on the bottom of his screen.

  Lance was all innocence. “That? That looks like your spam filter.”

  Eyes narrowed, Adam started to get the picture. “Where was it before? Hey, were you messing with my computer?”

  “Now when would I have had the time to do that?” Lance didn’t have a trace of guile on his face. “I’ve been with you either in Missouri or on the job with that delightful Rose.”

  “Then where did that reminder to Feed Lance come from and why can’t I get rid of it?”

  Lance shrugged and got up from the chair. “I have a different type of computer than your dinosaur. How would I know?”

  Adam knew there was no use pointing out that Lance had, in just two minutes, fixed a problem on Adam’s computer that would have taken him hours. “Fine, I’ll figure it out myself.” As Lance walked back to the sofa, Adam could have sworn he heard a mumbled ‘password’, but wasn’t about to ask.

  Lance turned his attention to the clue that was sitting on the table along with the Alice script and business card. “Do you think the key words are prospecting and campfire song? They kinda go together.”

  “In what way?” His attention was on those flashing, pinging Feed Lance reminders. There were three of them—one for each day they were gone.

  Lance raised one shoulder and thought out loud. “Oh, prospecting to me means looking for gold and campfire would be cowboys sitting around after supper swapping stories, or, in this case, a song. Did you read anything about Walt doing any prospecting or being interested in it?”

  Not finding an obvious turn-off button for the flashing messages, Adam gave up and sat back in his chair, hands folded on his flat stomach. The chair creaked as he rocked it back and forth, thinking. “No, I can’t say I have read anything like that. I know Lillian’s family was into prospecting, but I don’t know if that would apply to this clue. Their money dried up years ago.”

  Lance thought about it a while. “Think it’s worth following up? Or do you think we should take a different approach?”

  “Well, think about the diary.” Adam gave a vague gesture toward the hidden safe in the kitchen. “Walt indicated our search would be about things that were important to him when they first happened and were important to him at the time he wrote the diary. I’m not sure if he would go into Lillian’s ancestors, do you?”

  “Maybe we should leave that for later in case we come up dry.”

  Adam nodded, thoughtful. “Okay with me. You think the main clue is about gold, huh? The only thing I can think of that would remotely relate is the Mineral King Ski area in the Sequoias that he was interested in developing.”

  “But it never got finished, did it?”

  Adam thought back to the revolutionary development Walt had been planning. Working with the environment, he would have turned the skiing industry on its ear—much like he did with the amusement park industry. Unfortunately, cancer had caught up with Walt before any plans had been finalized. After his death, the momentum on the project slowly faded until a few vocal opponents kept the project tied up in court. The project was finally dropped in the early 1970’s. “No, it was never built. It would have been something though. Not only for skiers in the winter, but hikers in the summer. It would have been a year-around destination.”

  “I didn’t think you skied.” Lance gave him a questioning look. “It sounds like you regret the project was never finished.”

  “I don’t, but I sure would have gone there to see it. Who knows? Maybe I would have taken lessons.”

  “Well,” Lance settled back onto the cushions of the sofa, “it doesn’t sound like that’s the place we should research. I think the term bonfire would relate to a ski resort rather than a campfire. Campfire is more rustic and Westerny.”

  “Westerny? Is that a word?” Adam grinned and tried to push a couple of Lance’s buttons. “Thought you minored in Literature.”

  “And Art...and Psychology,” he muttered under his breath. He heard Adam’s computer chime again. “So, are you going to feed me or let me starve to death?”

  At the sound, Adam glared at his computer. Feed Lance was flashing in the middle of his screen again. With a groan, he ran a hand over his tired eyes. “You want to fix that for me?”

  Lance was already on his feet. “Nope. I need to go eat. You want to get a fresh start tomorrow morning?”

  Bringing up his Organizer, Adam checked his schedule for Saturday. “I need to check in with Scott and see how the Anderson job is going. And, no, you can’t go with me, so don’t ask. Give me a call tomorrow afternoon and we’ll compare notes.”

  Lance just nodded his farewell and left, heading for the nearest restaurant. Adam went to his kitchen and stared into his almost-empty refrigerator.

  Lance didn’t get back to Adam’s until Saturday evening at almost 7:00—just in time for another ringing reminder to feed him. He sat tiredly on the sofa and put his feet up as if he had been on them all day. Adam noticed his face looked like he’d been out in the sun.

  “You spend the day at the beach?” Adam was half joking and half curious.

  “No.” Lance’s reply was short as his head dropped back against the cushions. “That would have been enjoyable.”

  When he said no more, Adam knew that was all the information he would get. Lance hadn’t been on the Anderson job as he had been there all day with Scott fending off suggestions. Lance looked beat. That was the word for it—beat. “You too tired to work on the clues?” He thought Lance was asleep. His eyes were closed and he hadn’t moved a muscle—not that that was too unusual for Lance.…

  “No, I’m fine.” His reply was completely non-enthused. “You have any cola? I could use some caffeine.” Lance managed to issue a tired “Thanks” when Adam came back from the kitchen and handed him the cold drink. He first ran the can over his warm face. Knowing Adam’s eyes were on him, watching and curious, he gave no explanation for his current condition. This wasn’t something he was going to share. But, he did have news that would take Adam’s mind off his personal life: “I think I found the answer to the Triple R thing.”

  That worked. Adam’s face lit up. “You did? Wow, that’s great! I haven’t had any time to even start on it. What did you find?”

  With a mild grunt of effort, Lance sat up on the sofa. Opening one of Adam’s reference books to the back, he did a quick search in the Index. Not finding what he needed, he tried another. In the second book he found what he wanted and opened to the specified page. He handed the book to Adam and pointed. It seemed too much effort for him to talk.

  Adam gave him another curious glance and then read what Lance indicated. “Who the heck are Spin and Marty?”

  Lance managed a little smile. “Seems we’re too young for this particular clue. I asked around today while I was…uhm, out. I
mentioned Triple R to a few people. Our age group and younger had no idea what it meant. Then I asked some women who must have been in their late 40’s. I didn’t ask…just that they looked older than you and me. Anyway, they said immediately, ‘Oh you mean the Triple R Ranch? I loved Spin and Marty!’” He took another swig of the cola. The caffeine seemed to be taking effect as he was started to get more animated.

  “Did you ask what it meant?” His finger was still in the book, but he would rather hear it from Lance.

  Lance nodded. “You’ve heard of the Mickey Mouse Club.” It was more of a statement than a question.

  “Of course.”

  “Well, Spin and Marty was an episodic show that appeared regularly on the original Mickey Mouse Club. The Triple R Ranch was where the boys lived. It was kind of a cowboy camp for boys. Apparently it was very popular. Possibly the Davy Crockett fad helped. Anyway, later I asked a few more people who looked about the same age group and they all made the same reference.”

  “Very good. Was it filmed at the studio? Think we need to do some prospecting around there, a figurative digging for clues, maybe?”

  Lance didn’t answer. There was something else on his mind. “One thing bothers me.” He leaned back, a frown on his face as he talked it through. “The time frame of this show. This was a lot later than the time period we just left in Kansas City. Walt didn’t come to Hollywood until 1923. This show came out around 1955. That’s a jump of more than thirty years. What we’ve found so far has kept to the timeline of Walt’s life story.”

  Adam considered that logic. “I see what you mean. Hold on.” Retrieving the diary, he read through it again. “It doesn’t say we would follow his life exactly. Just going to important events. Maybe mixing them up makes it more of a challenge.”

  “Or,” Lance paused, “perhaps we’re on the wrong track.” Holding his hand out for the diary he shook his head as he thought. “But it doesn’t feel like the wrong track. That’s my problem.”

  “Did you have any time to look for a Mario who was connected with the show?”

  “Yes, I tried that right before I came over. Came up blank. I think we need to read more about the show itself and see if there’s some campfire song popular back then. You keep reading in that book and I’ll see what I can find on your computer.”

  Adam watched warily as Lance sat in his chair and picked up the mouse. He wasn’t sure he wanted Lance near his computer again. Catching Adam’s look, Lance waved him off. “I’m too tired to play.” With that, Lance began a search and clicked on a couple of highlighted results.

  Slightly appeased, Adam started reading about Spin and Marty and their adventures on the Triple R Ranch in the book he was still holding.

  “Where’s Newhall?” Lance’s sudden question broke into his concentration.

  “I don’t know. About an hour, hour and a half north of here. Why?”

  “I found the ranch.”

  Immediately dropping his book, Adam bounded over to the computer. Lance rolled the office chair to the side so Adam could see the monitor. “Golden Oak Ranch?” Puzzled, Adam stared at the screen. “I thought it was the Triple R. Are you sure you’re right?”

  “It was called the Triple R on the show. The actual location was at the Golden Oak Ranch.”

  “I still don’t see what all this has to do with prospecting. The Triple R was kind of a dude ranch, wasn’t it? Or am I missing something?”

  Lance must have been tired. He let an obvious chance to say something smart to Adam go by. “No, there’s some history of the Golden Oak Ranch we didn’t know about. Look at this picture.”

  It was a photograph of a historical marker plaque that declared that ‘on this site in 1842 gold was discovered by Francisco Lopez.’ The marker was placed next to a huge old oak tree. Further reading revealed this tree was located on the outskirts of the Western town that was built—and still used—by movie companies.

  “So we get to dig for real gold?” Adam was confused as to where this was leading. “Wait. Look at those signs.”

  ‘Keep Out! No Trespassing!’ Another picture showed signs posted all over the entry gate to the ranch.

  “Think that means us?” Lance asked with a grin.

  “That never stopped you before.” Adam stepped back from the computer. “We need to look into this some more. You keep reading here and I’ll see if any mention is made in my books.”

  “Will do.” Lance finished his cola and dropped the can somewhere near the waste basket.

  “What did you find?”

  Adam looked over his notes. “When Spin and Marty was being filmed, the ranch was being leased. Then Walt bought the original 315 acres in 1959 for $300,000. Over the next several years, the size of the ranch was enlarged to over seven hundred acres. The Disney movie Toby Tyler was filmed there in 1960. The ranch is still in use today and is off limits to the general public. What did you find?”

  “Similar stuff. There’s a guest house where Walt stayed when he visited. I found something you might be interested in. There’s an assistant on the ranch who’s been there since 1964. Guess what his nickname is?”

  “Walt?”

  “Funny, Adam. No. Mario.”

  Adam was surprised. “No way! Is he still there? It’s been thirty-eight years!”

  “Yep. He’s also very knowledgeable on the history of the ranch and all the movies that have been filmed there.”

  “I don’t suppose you found out how to contact him?”

  Being more rested and the caffeine having done its trick, Lance was more himself again. He gave Adam a wide grin. “Of course I did. There’s a phone number for movie companies who want to rent the ranch.”

  Adam looked deflated. “Is that the only way to get in? We have to rent the place?”

  “I didn’t say that. We haven’t tried the number yet. It’s too late today and tomorrow is Sunday. I would guess bright and early Monday morning would be the best time to try.”

  “So, are we supposed to sing to him over the phone or something?” Adam still found that unsettling.

  Lance had forgotten that part of the clue. “Oh. You might be right. You find any campfire song yet?”

  Adam shook his head and indicated his books. “There’s hardly any mention of the show at all, let alone some song out of it. You seem to be having more success with my computer. Want to keep at it a while longer?”

  “Before I log off here, do you want to see the layout of the ranch?”

  “The Triple R?”

  “No, the Golden Oak. It says it isn’t to scale, but that isn’t too important.”

  Adam came back to the desk. “You really need to show me how you find so much in my computer. I just use it for business.”

  “Oh, I can find all kinds of things on your computer.” Lance’s muttered remark hid his grin. Too busy looking at the map, Adam didn’t challenge him.

  The map showed a long, narrow strip of land off the Antelope Valley Freeway, Highway 14. The ranch was broken into different regions—Central Region, Placerita Creek Region, Lake Region, Canyon Region, and Bottom Region. Each section had its own merits—and pictures—so film companies would know which would suit their needs. Besides the full Western Town, there were also different style cabins by the lakes and creeks, a white pillared mansion, a covered bridge, different styles of barns, meadows, dusty trails, corrals, a waterfall, river, and a guest house for the crews if they didn’t bring their own accommodations. The names of the locations were just as colorful as the map: Moonshine Meadow. Cherokee Trail Set. Outlaw Shack. Toby Tyler Bridge. Big West Meadow. The men saw that the Western/Ghost Town and the titled oak tree were located in the Lake Region. They also noticed the main clusters of buildings were far enough away from the highway that there would be no encroaching noise at all. It was perfect for movies set over a hundred years ago…provided airplanes or jets with vapor trails didn’t fly overhead during filming.

  Both men hoped they would be allowed on the ranch, and
not just for the clue, either. It sounded like a fascinating place to poke around. On horseback would be nice.…

  Tuesday morning Lance showed up unannounced on the Anderson job. Fortunately for all concerned, Mrs. Anderson was at a spa for the day. He went up to Adam without any preamble. “Do you want to drive or do you want me to?”

  Adam and Scott were checking the newly-delivered Jacuzzi tub for any visible damage. It was pink and large enough to comfortably soak four people. That particular pink color had been a special order, as had everything else on this job. Adam wasn’t going to let Ben the Beam Destroyer anywhere near it. “Drive what?” He was distracted. “Wait a minute. Is that a scratch or just delivery dust?”

  “Either your work truck that declares Michaels Construction to the world or my elegant little Mercedes?”

  “Even though I know I’m going to regret asking, what are you talking about?” Adam got up from examining the tub. Before Lance could respond, Adam turned to his foreman. “It was just dust. It looks perfect. Now if it just stays this way for four or five days while the plumber finishes his underground connections. Scott, could you please build the platform for the spa personally?”

  “Okay, boss, you got it.”

  “We have a two o’clock appointment with Mario at the Golden Oak Ranch today.” Lance’s spoke with the same inflection he would have used to say they were going two blocks away for lunch.

  Frowning, Adam glanced at his watch. “It’s already 11:00.”

  “That’s why I came early.” Lance grinned as he switched his attention to the tub. “So, can I try out the Jacuzzi?”

  “Keep away from it!” Adam blocked his path. “We need to get it around to the back for safe-keeping. After it’s installed, your use of it is between you and Mrs. Anderson.”

  Lance just rocked back and forth on his feet. He wouldn’t get anywhere near this house after it was installed. “Well?”

  Adam started to measure the lip of the tub and checked it against the blueprint. “Well what?”