“Again, do not underestimate these women,” he warned. “There’s a great deal more to them than meets the eye, I assure you. I just need you to get on that ranch and find out what, if anything, is going on with Baxter’s Draw. I’ve seen the catalog of items they took out of that cave last fall. There are more artifacts on that ranch. I’m convinced of that.”
“I’m going out to the ranch tomorrow to spend the day,” she snapped. “Lucky me.”
“I have no doubt you’re equal to the task,” Marino said. “That is, unless you’d like to have a discussion with your father and grandfather about your liberation of certain objets d'art from the family manse.”
Jessica’s eyes turned to ice, but her tone remained honeyed. “There’s no need to threaten, Robert,” she said pleasantly. “I’m sure this can all be brought to a successful conclusion that is in both of our interests.”
“I’m so glad you see the wisdom of that approach,” Marino said. “Call me tomorrow night.”
She signed off the call and briefly contemplated hurling her iPhone across the room. The only thing that stopped her was the thought that she probably would not be able to replace the device out here in the hinterlands. Besides, she had a more pressing concern — what to wear to the ranch tomorrow to bring herself down to a comfortable level with the Beverly Hillbillies.
At the same time that Jessica was talking to Robert Marino, Mandy was delivering an uncharacteristic lecture to her oldest sister. “Katherine Lockwood, I simply do not understand how you could behave that way toward a member of our family,” she fumed. “You practically called her an extortionist right there at the lunch table. I have never in my life been more embarrassed.”
Kate kept her eyes on the road and tried not to laugh at the role reversal. “Baby Sister, trust me, that woman can hold her own in a fair fight,” she said.
“Or a cat fight,” Jenny added from the back seat. “She’s tough as nails.”
“Definitely,” Kate said, glancing up at the rearview mirror. “Do you think it’s an act just to impress us?”
“Listen to you two!” Mandy said. “My God! You both are just as bad as Daddy. You go on and on about not wanting to be anything like the man that raised us, but you’re just as suspicious and cynical as he was.”
Kate set her mouth in a tense line, but said nothing.
“I see that face, Katie,” Mandy accused. “I know you don’t like to be told you’re like Daddy, but that’s exactly how you’re behaving.” She swiveled around in her seat. “And so are you, and you hate being like Daddy even more than she does. Now both of you just stop it!”
Jenny sighed. “Okay, okay, fine,” she said. “We’ll be cordial tomorrow. Won’t we, Katie?”
When there was no response from the front seat, Jenny said, with greater emphasis. “Won’t. We. Katie?”
“Oh, hell,” Kate grumbled. “Yes, yes. We will be cordial. But no talk about Baxter’s Draw,” she said. “I mean it, Mandy. Not one word. I will be nice to Cousin Jessica, but you have to promise me that you won’t slip and say anything about the cave and the treasure.”
Mandy smiled at her happily. “I promise, Katie,” she said. “I’ll be really careful. Not a word.”
When they arrived at the ranch, Kate drove Mandy down to her place first. As soon as she was out of the car and Jenny had moved to the front seat, Jenny asked Kate, “Want me to call my friend Gretchen Larsen in New York and see what she can find out about Jessica Northrup?”
“Damn straight, I do,” Kate said. “In fact, I want her to find out about all the Northrups. We don’t know a blessed thing about that side of the family and we’re not about to trust them just because we’re related to them.”
77
When the last patron was safely out the door of the library, Jolene turned the lock with a firm hand and promptly kicked off her shoes.
“Thank God,” she said. “I thought Mrs. Bell would never leave. I mean, honestly, how hard is it to pick out a formulaic romance? Every single one of them has the same plot.”
Without looking away from the computer screen, Mandy said, “You’re a literary snob.”
“Only about real literature,” Jolene countered. “Those kinds of romances don’t count. I can hardly stand the fact that trees die so those books — and I use the term ‘books’ loosely — can be made.”
“Oh, stop,” Mandy said. “You’re getting yourself all worked up into a righteous librarian fit. Tell me again what the little vibrating leaf means on Ancestry?”
“The least people could do is read that trash on a Kindle and spare the trees,” Jolene muttered darkly as she straightened the magazines. “The leaf thing means the site thinks you have a new connection to a potential relative.”
“Oh, right,” Mandy said, clicking with the mouse and scrolling through the list of possible genealogical links that came up.
When Jolene finished tidying up the front seating area, she joined Mandy, pulling up a chair and sitting down beside her at the computer workstation. “Hey,” she said. “Earth to Mandy. Can you please stop long enough to tell me about this mystery cousin from Boston?”
“Hmm?” Mandy murmured distractedly. “What?”
“Mystery. Cousin. Boston. Your Mama’s people. Any of this getting through?” Jolene prodded.
“Oh,” Mandy said. “Yes. Jessica. Sorry. We had lunch with her in Kerrville on Wednesday and then she came out to the ranch and spent the whole day on Thursday.”
“How did that go?” Jolene asked.
Mandy pushed the keyboard away and exhaled heavily. “I don’t know. I thought it went okay,” she said. “I mean, I guess it did. Katie and Jenny are still on the fence about her. Katie more than Jenny.”
Jolene frowned. “When you emailed me about Jessica you sounded really excited. Did something go majorly wrong during the visit?”
“I’m still excited about meeting her,” Mandy said. “It’s just that something kind of funny did happen in the barn while she was there.”
“What was it?” Jolene asked.
“Well, it really isn’t all that important,” Mandy said, “just a little odd. Jessica likes to ride. Of course, it’s all English style riding up where she lives, but anyway she asked to see the horses, so Katie went with us down to the barn. When Jessica tried to pet Horsefly, he reared up in his stall and kicked at the door.”
Jolene’s eyes widened. “Horsefly?” she said. “That is not good.”
Mandy frowned. “Oh Lord, don’t you start, too,” she scolded. “Katie is talking about the whole thing like it’s some kind of omen or that it means something about what kind of person Jessica is. I mean honestly, Horsefly was just having a bad day. And he’s a horse for heaven’s sake, not a mind reader.”
“He’s a very smart horse,” Jolene said. “Have you forgotten how he came down out of the draw to get help for Katie when that man shot her?”
Worry and indecision tugged at Mandy’s expression. “No,” she said, “I haven’t forgotten. And Jenny said exactly the same thing after Jessica left.”
“Horsefly just doesn’t have bad days,” Jolene said. “Sissy and Missy crawl all over him and he never even twitches. Kate is right. If that old horse has a bad feeling about somebody, I’d listen to him. How did Jessica react?”
“Jessica was extremely gracious about it,” Mandy defensively. “She said she completely understood about horses being nervous, but . . . well . . .,” her voice tapered off uncertainly.
“What?” Jolene asked.
“The same thing happened with Bracelet,” Mandy admitted reluctantly.
Jolene started to say something, but when she saw the look on Mandy’s face she caught herself. “Well, horses can be high strung. Bracelet may have just been reacting to Horsefly being nervous. It happens,” she said diplomatically. “So, you like Jessica?”
Mandy smiled happily. “Oh my God, Jolene, you should see her clothes! And she carries the most gorgeous Prada handbag. It’s just
been ages since I’ve been able to talk fashion with anyone.”
“You can talk fashion with me,” Jolene said, grinning. “I get all my jeans from the designer section at Wal-Mart.”
“Oh,” Mandy said, her facing falling, “I didn’t mean . . .”
“Stop,” Jolene said, patting her on the arm. “I think it’s great your Boston cousin is one of those fashionista types. You love that stuff, and it’s not like your sisters or your bestie give a hoot about that kind of thing. How long is Jessica staying in Texas?”
“Well, she has to go back to Boston and tend to some business,” Mandy said. “But then she’s gonna come back and spend a week with me and Joe at our house. You and Rick just have to come out and meet her. Say yes. Please.”
“Yes, please,” Jolene teased.
“Oh, stop,” Mandy giggled.
“Seriously, we’d love to,” Jolene said, “but we might be off for Big Bend by then.”
“Darn it,” Mandy said. “I didn’t think about that. Well, if you miss her, you can meet her the next time she visits.” She glanced at her watch. “Oh my God! I have to get home. I’ll be back to finish this tomorrow or the next day. Just let me . . .”
“Go,” Jolene said. “I’ll shut this down for you.”
“Thanks,” she said, gathering up her bag. “I’m already late. Joe’s cooking tonight.”
Jolene’s eyes widened. “Joe is cooking?”
“It’s an experiment,” she said, already bustling toward the front of the library. “He bought himself a cookbook and he’s all excited to try it out. Bye! Love you! Don’t forget to lock this behind me.”
“Love you, too,” Jolene called out as she re-locked the door and then returned to the workstation to shut off the machine. Her hand hovered over the power button but something on the screen caught her eye.
After she scanned a few lines, Jolene sat down and began to read with concentration. She clicked through two screens before walking to her desk to get a pencil and some paper. Several minutes later, she clicked out of Ancestry and typed a web address in the browser.
A blog came up on the screen. “Marfa Off the Map,” Jolene muttered. “That’s one way to describe the place.” She clicked the “About” link and a man’s face smiled out at her. He looked to be in his mid-60s with a full head of gray hair. The picture was taken outside and a few strands had blown over his forehead.
His eyes were bright blue and he looked into the camera with a gentle and open smile. “So there you are, Phillip Baxter,” Jolene muttered. “Now let’s find out who you are.”
“Hi,” Phil Baxter wrote in his blog profile. “I’m Phil. Fifteen years ago I moved to the north Chihuahuan desert on 20 acres of land halfway between Marfa and Terlingua, Texas. I call this site Marfa Off the Map because it sounds good, but I really live at what my granddad used to call 40th and Plum. Forty miles from anything and plum in the middle of nowhere.”
The profile went on to describe Phil Baxter’s off-the-grid lifestyle. His first “house” was a converted bus while he completed his current home, an adobe structure he built with his hands over a period of two-and-a-half years.
“It was a completely rewarding experience that helped me become one with the land and the materials it offers to us for our use,” Phil wrote. “I know that makes me sound like an old hippie, which I am, but I’m really a man deeply invested in saving the environment through sustainable, conscious living.”
The same man who described himself as an “old hippie” was smart enough to position the bulk of his house inside a hill facing to the south to create a “cave-like interior with a constant temperature of roughly 70 degrees for most of the year,” he wrote. “Try doing that with your AC unit and afford the electric bills!”
As Jolene scrolled through his posts and photo albums, she read about his water collection and storage system, followed the construction and expansion of his solar array, and learned far more about composting toilets than she ever wanted to know. One thing was clear, Phillip Baxter was intelligent, inventive, and self-sufficient.
“At least you won’t be after Mandy’s money,” Jolene said to the screen. “That’s a mark in your favor.”
The man had a thriving garden and even kept bees. He was an avowed vegetarian who flirted with being a vegan, but nursed a lifelong addiction to cheese. The longer Jolene read, the more fascinated she became with his desert lifestyle, so much so that when her cell phone rang, she half jumped out of her skin.
As she reached to answer the insistent device, she glanced at the clock. Almost 7 o’clock. No wonder Rick was trying to track her down. “Hi,” she said. “I’m sorry. I got distracted with something. Take the kids . . .”
“To the drive-in for supper,” Rick said. “We’re already there. You want us to bring you a cheeseburger?”
“Get me one,” she said, “but take it to the house. I’m packing up now.”
Jolene put the phone back down and switched browser windows to go back to the Ancestry site. She drummed her fingers on the table. All she had to do was click the little green leaf, reject the suggested connection, and close out of Mandy’s account.
Mandy was still new to Ancestry. She’d never notice a thing. But how would she react when she found out Jolene kept this information from her?
“Damn it,” Jolene muttered. “I just don’t want her getting hurt.”
All Jolene wanted was enough time to check out Phillip Baxter on her own. In fact, she could meet the man face to face when she and Rick took the kids to Big Bend. It would be nothing to drive out to Baxter’s place.
“God, I hope I’m doing the right thing,” Jolene said, and rejected the connection hint that had led her to find Phillip Baxter’s blog.
Later that night, after Sissy and Missy were in bed, Jolene confessed what she’d done to Rick and showed him Phil’s website on her iPad. “So, am I a nosy bitch?” she asked. “Should I have minded my own business?”
Rick was stretched out on his side of the bed with the tablet propped up on his knees. He was scrolling through the blog, pausing occasionally to read a few lines. “Well, you might be a little nosy, honey,” he admitted. “But you’re not a bitch. And I understand why you’re doing this. With everything that’s happened to those Lockwood gals over the last year and a half, I sure don’t want to see Mandy get sucker punched if her real father is some kind of asshole.”
“Or even a nut case,” Jolene said, turning on her side and propping herself up on one elbow. “Living out there all alone in the desert, he could be some kind of Unibomber type.”
Rick turned the iPad toward her. There was a picture of Phil Baxter on the screen. His jeans were rolled up to his knees, which were caked in mud. “With a blog giving tips on how to mix up adobe with your feet?” Rick asked. “Does this guy look like a psycho to you?”
“No,” Jolene admitted, “but I still want to make sure. Can we check him out when we go to Big Bend?”
“I don’t see why not,” Rick said. “The timing couldn’t be better. You want to call him in advance or wait until we get out there?”
“According to the blog,” Jolene said, “he doesn’t leave his place for months at a time. He doesn’t have a phone, but I can email him from Big Bend and ask if we can go out to his place.”
“What are you going to tell him?” Rick asked curiously.
“The truth,” Jolene said, “but I’m leaving out Mandy’s name until I can get a read on this guy.”
“You don’t think he’s gonna figure out right quick who you’re talking about?” Rick asked.
“Elizabeth Jones told Mandy that Irene never told Phillip she was pregnant,” Jolene said. “For all we know this guy has been running around fathering children all over the place.”
Rick swiveled the iPad around again. This time the photo on the screen showed Phil in an old pair of cut-offs wearing a Grateful Dead t-shirt with a floppy sombrero on his head. “You think this man is a player?” he asked.
Jolene scowled. “You never know what some woman is going to find attractive,” she said.
“You want me to go get myself a sombrero?” Rick asked, grinning.
Jolene reached above her head, grabbed her pillow, and smacked Rick with it. “No, smart ass,” she said. “I want you to put that iPad up and turn out the light.”
“So we can talk about something else?” he asked.
“My plan doesn’t involve talking,” Jolene said. “You have a problem with that, Rick Wilson?”
“No, ma’am,” he said, putting the iPad on the nightstand and flicking off the light. “You know what I always say. Silence is golden.”
78
Jake put out feelers in the antiquities community and found an excellent security company from Houston. Within 24 hours a representative pulled in the front gate at the Rocking L in a black SUV. He was amazingly nondescript for someone in his line of work, looking more like he was dressed for an expensive golf tournament than a potential job protecting a cave full of priceless artifacts.
He introduced himself to Kate and Jake as Miles Riley, immediately impressing them with his easy nature and calm, no-nonsense demeanor.
“I realize this land is your home, Ms. Lockwood,” he said. “My men will be as unobtrusive as possible. We would bring in our own trailers to serve as our command center and sleeping quarters. Given the size of the cave as you’ve described it, Dr. Martin, I think we’d rotate out three teams of four in each 24-hour period. I’d like to put one team in the cave, one at the mouth of the canyon, and one here on the ranch. I’ll also keep a couple of extra personnel on site, not including myself. That makes for a security staff of 15 total. We’ll use drones to patrol the remote approaches to the canyon and we’ll have video feeds from both the cave and the dry creek bed. All of this is contingent upon your approval, of course.”
The Lockwood Legacy - Books 1-6: Plus Bonus Short Stories Page 48