Mayor Pike climbed up onto the speaker’s platform and struck a pose, gripping the lapels of his jacket with both hands. He seemed to puff up as he stared out at his attentive audience.
“I hope you’ve all had a wonderful time today as we’ve commemorated the founding of our fair community. Though Cedar Ridge may be young compared to the cities of the East, let me assure you, it’s going places. We have some of the best climate in the territory right here, and the possibilities are endless.”
Scattered cries of “Hear! Hear!” met his pronouncement.
The mayor’s chest puffed up even more. “I predict that with the increase in ranching and farming, and the new businesses moving in, our size will double in just a few short years.”
Beside Melanie, Caleb stirred and whispered, “Where’s Levi? I thought he was right here.”
“So did I.” Melanie swept her gaze over the lantern-lit area between them and the people sitting on their blankets. “I don’t see him anywhere.”
Mayor Pike went on, his voice building in a crescendo. “The folks in our territory’s capital, Prescott, are taking notice of us. Make no mistake about it, my friends, Cedar Ridge is fast becoming a rising star in—”
As if on cue, a ball of flame with a stream of sparks trailing off behind it arced over the assembly. Melanie and Caleb watched as the small fireball reached its apex directly above the speaker’s platform and broke apart, sending a shower of sparkling embers down over Mayor Pike and the crowd.
Shrieks rose as people leaped up off their blankets. Several of those nearest the platform, including Mayor Pike, beat the sparks from their clothes and stamped out the live embers before they could set the weeds and grass ablaze.
“Where did that come from?” Caleb demanded.
In the dimness behind them, a match flared, catching Melanie’s attention. She pointed at the trees that lined the creek as another bundle of flame lofted skyward.
She clutched at Caleb’s arm. “What can that be?”
“I’m not sure, but I have my suspicions.” With a determined stride, he set off toward the creek bank with Melanie right behind him.
As they neared the water’s edge, they heard spurts of muffled laughter. Caleb stopped and put his hand on Melanie’s arm. “Shh. Let me get my bearings.”
Another spate of giggles burst out, followed by the sound of a match striking. Melanie focused on a spot a few yards in front of them, where the sudden glow illuminated the excited faces of Levi and one of the boys he’d been playing with earlier.
The other boy, taller and stouter, clung to the tip of an alder sapling, bending it toward the ground. “Hurry up,” he grunted. “I can’t hold it down much longer.”
Levi crouched beside his playmate. The tip of his tongue protruded from one corner of his mouth as he held the match under a small clump of something—Melanie couldn’t determine what it was—wedged into the alder’s top branches. “Hold on. It doesn’t want to light.”
“What’s going on?” Caleb’s voice boomed through the darkness.
Levi yelped and jumped back, dropping the match to the ground.
The other boy squealed and let go of the sapling.
The tree snapped upright, sending the small bundle flying in a wobbly arc overhead, then falling back to earth some distance from the young perpetrators.
Caleb strode over to the smoldering object. Melanie glanced to make sure the fallen match had gone out on its own, then she spoke in her sternest governess voice: “Come here this instant—both of you.”
Levi and his companion slunk out of the undergrowth and joined Melanie at Caleb’s side. He knelt on the ground beside the smoking projectile, then glared up at the boys.
“Cattails?” He stood and kicked at the bundle. It dissolved in a spray of embers, which he stomped out with his boot.
The bigger boy stared down at the dirt and scuffed his toes. “Yes, sir.”
Even in the dim light, Melanie could see Levi’s chin quiver. “That was our fireworks. You spoiled it.”
Melanie caught her breath. “Fireworks?”
Levi nodded. “People kept wishing we could have fireworks, but Papa said the mayor wouldn’t spend the money to buy any. We were just trying to make Founders Day special.”
Caleb grunted. “You made it a night to remember, all right. Come on. You two have an apology to make.” He stooped to pick up a handful of the cattails the boys had piled on the ground, then led the way back to the speaker’s platform.
The cries of alarm had subsided by the time he marched the boys back to the scene of Mayor Pike’s interrupted speech. Most were still within the warm circle of light created by the lanterns, but they were on their feet shaking out their blankets, preparing to load their wagons and go home.
The mayor and his wife stood in the center of a circle of friends, accepting their commiserations for the way the day had ended. The people around them parted like the Red Sea as Caleb and Melanie escorted the boys to stand in front of the Pikes.
Mayor Pike stared down at the youngsters, then looked back up at Caleb. “What’s all this?”
Caleb nudged Levi. “Go on.”
Levi fixed his eyes on the middle button on Mayor Pike’s coat, avoiding eye contact. “We’re sorry.”
The mayor’s brows drew together.
Levi’s shoulders slumped. “We didn’t mean to mess up your speech with our fireworks.”
Mayor Pike drew back. “Fireworks?”
“Cattails,” Caleb explained. He held up the charred remains of the boys’ pyrotechnic efforts.
Muffled laughter rippled through the crowd.
The mayor’s face darkened. “What were you boys thinking? You could have injured people, or started a fire.”
A weather-beaten rancher stepped through the crowd and looked down at Levi’s companion. “Is this true, son? You had a part in this?”
The other boy’s lower lip protruded. “Yes, sir.”
Ophelia Pike wagged her finger toward the man’s face. “If that were my son, I would—”
“That’s all right, ma’am. I’ll take care of this.” The rancher turned, leading the boy away.
Mrs. Pike turned her wrath on Caleb. “I’m sure your son was at the bottom of this. It’s just the kind of thing I would expect of him.”
Caleb pressed his lips in a straight line. “We’ll be leaving, too. Good evening, Mrs. Pike.”
Melanie followed him as he strode from the lanterns’ glow and steered Levi toward their wagon. She concentrated on picking her way along in the moonlight without tripping over a rock.
Caleb slowed and pointed. “Isn’t that Doc up ahead of us?”
Melanie looked in the direction he indicated and nodded when she recognized the heavyset figure. “Yes, I believe it is.”
“Come on.” Caleb trotted off to catch up with the doctor, leaving Melanie to trail along behind with Levi.
“Doc Mills!” Caleb called. The older man looked over his shoulder and stopped to wait.
“I’ve been hoping for a chance to talk to you,” Caleb said. “Do you have a minute?”
Doc watched Melanie and Levi as they came up to join them, and he shrugged. “I suppose so. What do you need?”
Melanie wrinkled her nose at the whiff of stale liquor that drifted to her when he spoke.
“I wanted to ask you something, but first I’ll need to ask you to keep it to yourself.”
Doc nodded. “I’m a medical man. I’m good at keeping a confidence.”
“It’s all this talk about Charley Weber’s death maybe being due to murder, and not natural causes.”
The moon rose over the hills to the east, illuminating Doc’s solemn expression. “Go on.”
“It seemed odd to me that something like that could have happened, since no one—including you—apparently saw anything suspicious about his death at the time.”
Doc drew himself up, and his mouth tightened. “I know I have something of a reputation for imbibing a
bit freely, but I can assure you—”
Caleb waved his hand. “No, I didn’t mean to imply any negligence on your part. But on top of suspicions about what happened to Charley, now there’s talk going around about the way my uncle Alvin died.”
“And my cousin,” Melanie added.
Doc gave her a brief glance before turning back to Caleb. “You were here when Alvin passed away. You saw how it happened.”
“Yes, but I’ve been doing a little studying.” Caleb pulled a book from his inside jacket pocket.
Melanie’s eyes widened when she recognized the reference on poisons the Professor had loaned them the day before.
Caleb thumbed through the pages, then spread the book open and handed it to Doc. “Ipecac. It says right here that it causes extreme gastric upset. That sounds a lot like what happened with my uncle. You remember how we all thought he was getting better, and then he couldn’t keep anything down at all.”
Doc murmured a response, his eyes still fastened on the book.
Melanie moved forward a step. “Neither Caleb nor I were here when my cousin George died. What happened to him? I always assumed it was something to do with his heart, but could someone have done something to harm him?”
Doc lowered his head as if deep in thought, then he looked straight at Melanie. “George Ross died of heart failure. His symptoms were perfectly consistent with that diagnosis, and I have no reason to attribute his death to anything else. The other two, however . . .”
He turned to Caleb. “I didn’t have any reason to look for something other than death by natural causes at the time, in either of those cases.” He held up the Professor’s book. “But now that you’ve drawn this to my attention, I have to admit it’s a possibility.”
He closed the book and turned it so he could study the cover, his brows dipping low on his forehead. “Where did you get this?”
“The Professor loaned it to me,” Caleb said.
A shadow flickered across the doctor’s face, barely discernible in the moonlight. “The Professor? That’s interesting. I knew he was a man of varied interests, but I wasn’t aware he was a student of poisons.” He handed the book back to Caleb without further comment.
“We need to take this information to the marshal.” Melanie’s voice shook when she spoke. “If it’s a real possibility that Charley Weber and Caleb’s uncle were poisoned, he needs to know.”
Doc Mills tilted his head and looked at her from beneath his brows. “Are you sure you want to do that?” Seeing her shocked expression, he went on. “It might confirm the possibility that those two deaths were murder, and it might give him an idea of how it was done. But it still doesn’t tell him who did it. With all the accusations flying around town, it would be easy for people to jump to assumptions and decide to take things into their own hands.” He pointed to the book in Caleb’s hands. “I believe you need to think very carefully about whether or not to make your theory known.”
He turned away and ambled toward his buggy. Caleb, Melanie, and Levi walked back to their wagon in silence, with Doc’s news—and his admonition—ringing in their ears. They settled a sleepy Levi on some blankets in the back of the wagon, and then Caleb clucked at the horse and they set off for home.
Melanie checked to see if Levi was asleep, then she scooted closer to Caleb on the wagon seat, drawing comfort from his nearness. She lowered her voice to a soft whisper. “So Alvin’s and Charley’s deaths really might have been murder?”
“It appears so.” In the moonlight, Caleb’s face looked as if it had been chiseled from marble.
“Do you think Doc has any idea who might have done it?”
“I’m not sure. If he does, I don’t think he’s going to tell us. We’ll have to find that answer ourselves.”
“Us? How?”
“Whoever the murderer was, and whatever he used, he had to get his hands on that poison somewhere. What’s the mostly likely place for him to get it from?”
Melanie pursed her lips. “I suppose he would have had to order it from somewhere.” Her eyes widened, and her lips parted. “From our store. It could have come from the mercantile.”
Caleb nodded. “It would have been the easiest thing to do. Starting tomorrow, we need to check through all our records.”
24
Can we go fishing, Papa? It’s gonna be a beautiful day.”
Caleb checked the lock on his front door and pocketed the key. “Not today, son. But if you’re a very good boy, we’ll plan on going fishing again someday soon.” He glanced skyward. Levi was right about the weather—the morning was beautiful, but with the way the clouds were building up in the north, he suspected it wouldn’t stay that way for long. Besides, he and Melanie needed to start checking their records to find out who might have purchased or ordered the substance used to poison Charley Weber and Uncle Alvin.
Levi scuffed a rock out of his way as they walked along the alley. “I guess after last night, you don’t want me to make anymore fireworks, right?”
Caleb ruffled the boy’s hair. “Right. No more fireworks, no more matches.”
“Can I still play with my soldiers?”
“Sure, that’s fine.” Caleb slanted a look at his son. “As long as you don’t—”
“I know. As long as I don’t line them up on Mrs. Pike’s—”
“That’s right,” Caleb cut in. “You’ve got the idea.”
Levi picked up a pebble and flung it down the alley. “Can Miss Ross come with us? When we go fishing, I mean.”
“I don’t know about that,” Caleb said. “We’d have to close the store.” Even as he spoke, a picture formed in his mind: The three of them on the grassy bank overlooking Walnut Creek. Levi with his fishing pole in the water, or chasing grasshoppers and butterflies up and down the bank, and Melanie leaning back against the smooth bark of a sycamore trunk, the breeze stirring her hair, and the sun dappling her cheeks through the glossy green leaves.
His mood lifted. Maybe Levi had a point. Why not close the store up so they could all go together? It would only be for an afternoon—or maybe even a day. Once the marshal captured the murderer, there would be reason to take some time off to celebrate. He would have to pose the idea to Melanie and see what she thought of it.
Absorbed in his thoughts, he walked along the alley toward the store’s rear entrance, with Levi skipping ahead of him. When Levi reached the back stoop, he turned and called to Caleb. “She’s not here—and the porch isn’t swept.”
“What?” Caleb quickened his steps, his thoughts racing. Surely no harm could have befallen her, not with those new locks he had installed. Not with drop bars on both doors to keep intruders out. He reminded himself to breathe. The last time he had flown into a panic about her not being outside, it turned out she had been upstairs because she wasn’t feeling well. Maybe she had another headache.
But what if she hadn’t opened the door because she had fallen or hurt herself? The new worry gnawed at him as he hurried toward the stoop. If she was upstairs, sick or incapacitated, how could he get to her? He had the key to the lock, but the bars Melanie dropped across the doors each night would be just as effective at keeping him out as they were at barring trespassers.
He trotted up the steps, trying not to let his concern show so as not to frighten Levi. A bit of his worry ebbed away when the doorknob turned under his hand. He pushed the door open. Relief washed over him at the sight of Melanie standing before him, a sheet of paper in her hand. His relief faded when he saw the look on her face. “What’s wrong?”
“This.” She waved the paper at him. “It’s the list I’ve been making, the one with my ideas for new items for the store. It was over on the table next to the catalogs when I came down a little while ago. But I know I left it right here on the counter before we left for the celebration yesterday afternoon.”
Caleb shrugged. “We were in a hurry yesterday. Maybe you just thought you put it on the counter before we left. You might have set it down on the table
and just forgot.”
Melanie tapped the paper. “I could almost make myself believe that—but I didn’t imagine this.” She beckoned him into the office.
Caleb stopped short in the doorway. The small room looked as if one of Arizona’s dust devils had swept through it, leaving chaos in its wake. Desk drawers stood open, and their record books, normally lined up neatly on a shelf near the window, now lay strewn across the desk and floor.
Melanie turned to face him. “We did not leave this room in this condition.”
“You’re saying someone came in while we were at the picnic? But we didn’t notice any sign of a break-in when we returned. And there are only two keys to the new locks I put on. You have one, I have the other.”
Melanie shook her head. “It didn’t happen when we were at the picnic. I double-checked the locks on the doors and windows before I went to bed. Last night, this room was just the way we always leave it.” She pointed toward the room’s only window. “But this was open a crack when I came in here this morning.”
Caleb stepped to the window and pushed it up a few inches.
Melanie moved beside him. “What are you looking at?”
“The lock. Do you see those scratches?” Before she could answer, he pivoted and went back outside. Melanie caught up with him while he was busy examining the lock from the alley side.
“See there?” He pointed out a series of gouges in the wooden frame around the lock.
Her forehead puckered. “I see them, but what do they mean?”
“Somebody slid a thin blade up between the two parts of the window frame and used it to work the lock open.” He stepped back and frowned, trying to reason it all out. “The only reason someone would have needed to come in through the window”—realization hit him like a sledgehammer as he finished his statement—“is if they broke in during the night. With the bars in place on the doors, they couldn’t get inside that way.”
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