“I know,” Morgan said. “I’ve seen the movies. Famous action adventure star.”
Also known as Jet, the movie star was a stunning blond-haired, blue-eyed body-builder. Morgan wondered how Kurt, who was a nice looking man but no body-builder, had managed to marry Jet’s ex-wife. Apparently, she had a lot to learn about Kurt Willard.
“When my marriage turned sour, I was almost relieved. The opportunity to buy the Gazetteer came up just as the boys had started junior high. What was that now? Six years ago? It killed me to leave them behind in California, but at least I had them for half the holidays and a few weeks of summer vacation.”
“So why didn’t you bring the boys to Colorado for school?” Morgan asked.
“Their opportunities were definitely better in California. Zulina had them in a private academy.”
“Oh.” Morgan didn’t believe that was necessarily better, and her former employee Cindy would have argued for homeschool, but neither had had the option of private school for their children. That might be hard to resist.
“I understand Jase needing to have a relationship with his father.” Morgan paused to sip her wine. “But why couldn’t Burke have come to Golden Springs with you?”
“I struggled with that,” Kurt said. “The boys have been together since they were three. They truly are brothers, regardless of their parents’ issues. I couldn’t split them apart. I’m looking forward to their visit. I hope you’ll help me introduce them to the Colorado mountains. Most of their previous trips were too short to do much.”
Morgan smiled, even as butterflies fluttered around her stomach. “I hope they like me.”
“They will.”
Kurt obviously didn’t realize how opinionated teens could be.
“My free time this summer depends on Kendall stepping up to watch the shop more.” Morgan told Kurt about the shop door being open, and the tampered lock on the Triceratops brow horn case. “I doubt that would have happened if someone had been on the property. Kendall is constantly gone on mysterious errands.”
“If my boys stay in the cabin,” Kurt said, “that might solve your problem.”
Morgan laughed.
“I’m sorry to be presumptuous,” Kurt said.
“No, that’s not it,” Morgan said. “You’ve seen the cabin. The more I hear about their glamorous Hollywood life, the less I think they’d be comfortable there.”
“That’s the point of roughing it,” Kurt said. “To be uncomfortable.”
Morgan shrugged. “You can offer it to them, but how would they recharge their cell phones, and all those electronic toys teenagers have?” Morgan held up a hand. “Wait a minute. What am I thinking? I need to let Kendall know. He’s been touchy about me making decisions about the rock shop without consulting him.”
Morgan pulled her cell phone out of her purse and called the Rock of Ages. The same number rang in the rock shop and the living quarters. The phone rang six times before going to voice mail.
“He’s not home. As usual.” Morgan tossed the phone into her purse with unnecessary force. “I shouldn’t have to clear everything with him. I’m the one who made improvements to the shop, got customers to drive up the hill, and prevented an IRS audit.”
Kurt raised his eyebrows, apparently startled by the vehemence of Morgan’s tirade.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t be venting when you were nice enough to tear yourself away from your campaign to take me to dinner.”
“Family can be trying,” Kurt said. “Sharing the shop doesn’t seem to be working out. Do you think Kendall would sell his half to you?”
“When he was in Central America, he suggested the idea,” Morgan said. “Now, I don’t know. One minute we’re getting along, then we fall right back into our old childhood power struggle, both of us bristly as porcupines. Even if he wanted to sell his half, I doubt I could come up with the money.”
“You’ve got the house in Sioux Falls,” Kurt said. “If you sold it, you could buy out your brother’s share of the rock shop.”
“True.”
Morgan’s expression must have revealed her feelings.
“But you’re not ready to let go,” Kurt said.
Morgan released a frustrated sigh. “The house will be a good source of income in a few months.” She nodded. “I have let go. I’m renting the place out, and I don’t intend to go back.”
“You’re going to Sioux Falls this Friday,” Kurt said. “With a daughter and grandchild living there, you’ll always have ties.”
“My home is in Golden Springs,” Morgan said firmly.
“Good,” Kurt said. “I want you to come back. I’ll miss you.”
“You’ll have your sons to distract you,” Morgan said. “You won’t even notice I’m gone.”
Kurt reached for Morgan’s hand. “Oh yes, I will.”
“It’s funny. We’ve both moved, yet it seems family keeps us connected to our old stomping grounds.”
“I have my sons, yes,” Kurt said. “But I cut ties to my past in California years ago.”
CHAPTER NINE
Driving to work Thursday morning, Morgan recognized the slender figure trudging up Hill Street. The teen’s black hair stood at attention, and white shirttails hung half way to his knees. Morgan pulled beside Ned and stopped.
“Need a ride?”
Ned yanked open the stiff passenger door of Morgan’s battered Buick and he hopped inside.
“Thanks!”
“Do your parents own a car?” Morgan asked.
“Sure,” Ned said. “But once they find a good parking space, they don’t like to move.”
Morgan imagined a vehicle in even worse shape than her Buick. Maybe a VW van, vintage but not restored. Ned must have made a trip to the coin laundry. His white dress shirt had a bluish tint now, and the wide blue necktie had not fared well in the wash.
“So you walk everywhere?” Morgan attempted a light tone.
“I don’t mind,” Ned said. “I get to see more that way.”
“I like to walk, too,” Morgan said. “Especially now that the weather is so nice.”
The Buick kicked up dust as they approached the big green dinosaur sign. Morgan pulled into the parking lot.
“My mother and father said thank you for the pizza,” Ned said.
“You can thank Mr. Willard.”
“I will,” Ned said. “I have to admit I did not exactly tell my parents where I got the pizza. I might have let them believe it was from you. If Grandpa found out, he’d be upset.”
“Right. I remember you said your grandfather wouldn’t appreciate you hanging around the Willard campaign headquarters.”
“Yes, that would not be cool.”
Kendall’s car sat inside the carriage house garage, but when Morgan pushed on the rock shop’s front door, it was locked. She dug her keys out of her jeans pocket. The cowbell clanged as she and Ned entered. Morgan flipped the brontosaurus-shaped sign in the front window to “open.”
“I’m guessing the donkeys haven’t been fed yet. It’s technically not part of the job, but do you want to help me feed them?”
Morgan expected a reaction of delight. Instead, Ned looked serious.
“Shouldn’t someone be here in case we get customers?” he asked. “We shouldn’t leave the shop unattended.”
Had Ned heard about the attempted burglary? Morgan wondered. Had he been involved?
Morgan glanced at the Triceratops brow horn display case.
“I can feed the donkeys,” Ned continued. “You already showed me how.”
So much for her suspicion.
“I want to see how Adelaide is doing,” Morgan said. “We’ll hear if someone drives up.”
As they approached the barn, Ned grabbed Morgan’s arm and pulled her to a halt. He pointed toward the p
addock. A small creature picked its way through a patch of lush green grass near the outdoor watering trough. Moving on all fours was not a typical human mode of travel, yet the creature’s pale skin made Morgan think of Lorina’s naked leprechaun. It seemed to sense it was being watched, and stood to peer over the grass. A tuft of white hair stood up on its head.
“What is that?” Ned whispered.
Morgan eased her cell phone out of her jeans pocket. She pressed the camera icon and zoomed in. The creature ducked into the grass, scurrying to the far side of the watering trough.
“Whatever it is,” Morgan whispered, “it’s camera shy.”
Morgan clambered over the wooden fence rails and trotted toward the trough. Ned passed her, hurtling around the trough and chasing the creature halfway across the pasture. The teen returned, gasping for breath.
“I almost caught it, then it just disappeared.” He wiped the sleeve of his bluish-white shirt across his sweaty face.
“Did you get a good look at it?” Morgan asked.
“Not really.”
“Do you think it was a rabbit?”
“Oh, no. It was definitely not a rabbit.” Ned frowned. “It kind of looked like a little person.” He shook his head. “But that’s crazy. Oh, man! Wait until I tell Mom and Dad about this!”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Morgan said. “If this gets out, we’ll be overrun by curiosity seekers. People might scare it away before we can figure out what it is.”
“I suppose so,” Ned said. “The next time, I hope you get a picture.”
* * *
Adelaide waited in her stall, but instead of digging into her oats, she snuffled around the trough with her muzzle, then stood listlessly. Morgan called Dr. McCormick, who assured her he could drop by later.
After tending to the donkeys, Morgan and Ned returned to the rock shop. Morgan opened the folder her former employee Cindy had created for the big Denver mineral show, while Ned straightened out bins of rocks and fossils. The phone rang.
“Rock of Ages. Morgan speaking.”
“Has your daughter had her baby yet?”
Beatrice Stonewall, a church kitchen lady with steel-gray hair and a wardrobe of sensible polyester pantsuits, was not a beat-around-the-bushes kind of gal.
“Not yet,” Morgan said. “They may have to induce labor soon.”
“In my day, babies happened in God’s time, not at the convenience of some doctor’s golf game. But that’s not the reason I called. I understand you were at the center of that disaster on Eustace Day’s ranch.”
Either Del or Lorina, maybe both, had probably filled Beatrice in on the details.
“Not the center,” Morgan said. “We were on the Rock of Ages side of the fence. Has the coroner given the cause of death?”
Beatrice had in her possession both a nephew who worked in the Granite Junction crime lab, and an insatiable appetite for forensics of the gory variety.
“Not yet,” Beatrice said. “Heaven knows, they didn’t have much to work with.”
“Did you know Eustace?”
“He never set foot inside the Golden Springs Community Church,” Beatrice said. “I heard stories, of course, but I wouldn’t like to spread false rumors.”
It was an inconvenient time for Beatrice to acquire scruples.
“Chief Sharp seems to think Eustace killed himself, either on purpose or by accident.”
Beatrice snorted. “Not Eustace Day. Oh, maybe I’d buy the accidental death theory, but even that is a stretch.”
“I heard Eustace and my uncle had been in business together once. They had a serious falling out. Obviously Uncle Caleb didn’t kill Eustace, but maybe there was someone more recently who wanted him dead.”
“I do seem to recall those two were on bad terms. Eustace Day irritated plenty of people. Badly enough to murder him? I’d have to think about that.”
“I’ve got customers,” Morgan said. “I have to go. Let me know if you come up with any ideas.”
“Morgan Iverson, I will not stand quietly by if you decide to investigate another murder. The last one nearly killed you, and several other people, I might add.”
“According to the police, it’s not a murder,” Morgan said. “And I’m not investigating. Eustace was my neighbor. I naturally have some questions.”
“Naturally. I’ll let you get back to work. My prayer group will keep Sarah, Russ and the baby on our list until I hear otherwise.”
* * *
After the shop had been open a few hours, the door to the living quarters opened. Ned nearly dropped his broom. Morgan was not sure she liked Ned realizing how the rock shop was arranged, with the door to the living quarters opening directly into the rock shop. Kendall and Allie had nothing worth stealing, but still.
“Morgan, I know we haven’t been much help since our return,” Kendall said, “but we’re free today. Allie and I can watch the shop.”
“We won’t leave for any reason,” Allie said.
Allie carried the baby in a colorful cloth sling across her chest, probably in a style she had learned in Central America. Her long blond hair and sunflower-print sundress gave her a mountain mama look. Kendall wore his usual attire of jeans and a tie-dyed Jesus T-shirt.
“Who is this?” Kendall asked.
Ned offered his hand. “My name is Ned, sir.”
Morgan noticed he only gave his first name. Maybe having hippies for parents enforced a certain vagueness concerning details they deemed socially irrelevant.
“I’m sorry Ned, but I forgot your last name.”
The teen flushed. “Alafare,” he said. “Ned Alafare.”
“Ned has been helping us out,” Morgan said.
Kendall winced as he spoke to Ned in a mock confidential tone. “My sister told me we need to hire someone. I haven’t been pulling my share of the shop duties like I promised.”
“I hope to prove myself worthy of a permanent position,” Ned said.
Kendall was obviously impressed. Morgan interrupted.
“Since you’re watching the shop, Ned and I can sort through the storage containers in the garage. Cindy gave me a list of items we should take to the Denver mineral show.”
“That’s a great idea,” Allie said. “Cindy was great at organizing the Rock of Ages displays for mineral shows. You can trust her advice.”
As she and Ned walked to the garage, Morgan mulled over the fact that Cindy had been the driving force behind the rock shop’s presence at mineral shows. What had Kendall and Allie done for the shop? It wasn’t that Morgan thought her brother was lazy. He worked diligently on projects that interested him, like the Golden Springs Community Church youth group, and the mission trip to Central America. The problem was that Kendall didn’t seem all that interested in running a business. The prospect of working with her brother long term was not pleasant.
The garage doors gaped wide. Ned seemed as fascinated with the converted carriage house as he had been with the barn. What had once housed the accouterments of the horse and buggy era now held two all terrain vehicles and Kendall’s beater of a car. The outbuilding was also used for storage of rock shop inventory. Morgan consulted her list as she lifted lids on plastic bins. She pulled heavy tubs of mineral samples to one side.
“We need to sort through these,” she said. “What I don’t take to the mineral show, we can use to replenish the shop.”
“The mineral show sounds very instructive,” Ned said.
His comment was a heavy-handed hint. Morgan hoped he wouldn’t press the issue. His parents seemed to have no interest in his whereabouts, but Morgan was willing to bet they’d be all over a lawsuit if anything happened to Ned at the Denver mineral show.
“What’s this?” Ned lifted a fragile cigar box out of the bin he was emptying. Twine tied the box closed. “Cigars?”
<
br /> He handed the box to Morgan.
“This is ancient,” Morgan said. “The cigars have to be stale.” She worked the tight knot out of the twine. “My Uncle Caleb smoked cigars. These must have been his. The rock shop used to smell of cigar smoke.” Morgan didn’t want fond memories of her uncle to influence Ned the wrong way. “That was before people understood how bad tobacco smoke is for you.” The brittle paper label on the wooden box advertised the finest Cuban cigars “If this wasn’t so beat up, I’ll bet it would be worth some money.”
Morgan lifted the lid. Inside was a packet of yellowed papers. She placed the cigar box on a workbench and unfolded the papers.
“What is it?” Ned asked.
The top paper was a certificate of authenticity for a Triceratops. Not the brow horn. An entire skeleton. A professor from the University of Wyoming had signed and stamped the papers.
“I think they’re papers for fossils that aren’t here anymore,” Morgan said.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
Ned moved to look over Morgan’s shoulder. If Ned had been the one to break into the shop for a mere brow horn, she wondered what he would do for an entire dinosaur. She folded the papers and put them back in the cigar box.
“I’ll have to look at these later,” she said.
Morgan walked to her car and locked the box inside the Buick.
Cindy pulled up beside Morgan in a new van. Their entire brood of six children fit in one vehicle now. It had been their first major purchase after Cindy’s husband got a promotion and a raise at his construction job.
Cindy unfastened car seats, liberating two toddlers. She wore her usual attire of red cowgirl boots and a denim skirt, while a loose gingham pioneer blouse allowed easy access for breastfeeding the new baby. Morgan had once thought Cindy’s outfits were costumes she only wore to work, but the entire family dressed in an Old West style.
“Howdy, Cowgirl!”
Cindy lifted the baby out of the van, still strapped into his car seat. Although Hezekiah was bald now, he was certain to grow the inevitable red hair, like his mother, father, and siblings.
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