Kate didn’t move away from his touch. “I guess. I mean, I understand, but I’m still totally humiliated.”
“No reason to be,” Gabe said.
“This group has become sort of a substitute family,” Ben said. “We take care of each other.”
“Isn’t that ducky? Congratulations, team. You now have a heartless environmental destroyer in the family.” Kate looked from one to the other, her mouth set in a bitter line.
Not anymore. Gabe kept that to himself. He shrugged out of his backpack and unhooked the front flap. “I have a first aid kit with eye drops in here. They might help.” Would telling Kate his family business was lumber and development be a comfort to Kate? That his refusal to join the family firm and instead studying entomology had made him an outcast? Nope, this is about her, not me.
Kate used the eye drops he offered. “Ooh. Stings. Thanks, Gabe. You, too, Ben. I know you’re trying to help and I’m being a big baby.” She sighed. “Plus I’m sorry you two had to come after me.” She took note of their expressions and added, “Don’t tell me the whole crew’s out looking for me.”
Gabe shrugged. “Tripp didn’t let Frances join us. She’s . . . pretty upset. Feels guilty about telling you.”
“Duh. Timing’s everything. For God’s sake, even if she didn’t know before we hired on with Tripp we’d be on Poulsen’s land, she could have told me the night of the party.”
“We all avoid painful conversations,” Ben said with surprising maturity for someone Gabe had pegged as self-centered and less than thoughtful. He might need to revise his opinion. “When there’s something a person knows another doesn’t want to hear, it’s easy to postpone that come to Jesus moment.” His bitter expression told Gabe Ben wasn’t only trying to comfort Kate. He was revealing something of his past.
Gabe rubbed his neck. His hand came away grimy. “We need to set off those flares and let the team know we’ve found Kate.”
“Yeah. And get us all back to the casita,” Ben said.
Together Gabe and Ben trotted to a nearby rock outcropping and set off two flares and then three minutes later, another set of two. This was to indicate that they’d found Kate and that she was not injured and they’d return soon. While they were on the high point, both men checked for a signal on their cell phones, but found nothing. “No big surprise,” Ben said. “When you’re out here, you’re pretty much on your own. It can be peaceful but it can also be scary. Like when you can’t see. ”
“She didn’t panic. Counts a lot in her favor,” Gabe said.
Ben nodded. “When do you figure we should tell Kate her newly discovered father is dead?”
“The sheriff would want us to wait until he notifies her. But I’m thinking the poor kid has been worrying about what she’s going to say to Poulsen, whether she should seek him out or shun him, wondering if he knew she was his daughter that night she yelled at him. I hate to see her have another awful surprise.”
Ben rubbed his chin. “Maybe it won’t be awful. Good riddance to bad rubbish,” as my grandmother used to say.
“I doubt that. She’d have wanted to talk to him, find out more about him.” Gabe paused. “Not sure I want to be the one to break the news.”
After Kate downed more water and two of the carrot-zucchini muffins Madrone had packed for them, they began the trek back to the casita. With a man on either side to guide her, Kate didn’t slow the trio’s progress much. “Besides, those drops helped a lot. I’m seeing quite a lot better now.”
Another reason not to tell her. Don’t want her to start crying again. Gabe spent most of the return hike debating the pros and cons of sharing with Kate the news of her father’s death. Ben, too, seemed unnaturally quiet.
Eventually Kate halted. “Okay, you two. What’s bugging you? Is it something I said? Did Tripp tell you I’ve failed the test? ‘Cuz I didn’t. I found every cache he hid, all three stupid quotes. And our deadline to return is dusk today. I’ll make that.”
Gabe weighed the right response. Some twenty minutes ago, the balloon had disappeared from the darkening horizon. The sheriff and his deputies had agreed to lower the balloon when the signal flares went off. Unless she’d gone into shock, Kate seemed to be recuperating from her emotional stress, the crying jag and the subsequent dry-eye syndrome. She was back to her normal walking speed and definitely up to normal with the pace of her words, supersonic. He looked over at Ben, still on Kate’s left, making sure she didn’t stumble. Ben raised his eyebrows in question. Gabe’s jaw tightened and he shrugged. Ready or not.
Gabe slowed their pace deliberately but kept a hold on Kate’s forearm. “It’s nothing you’ve done, nothing you said. I guarantee your delayed return will not affect your passing this final test. In my opinion, you’ve done well in your training. I guess I should say our training, since I went through it with all of you.” He swallowed some water. His mouth was as dry as a broken swamp cooler. “I need to tell you why that balloon went up, calling the team in early.”
Kate stopped. Her face blanched. “It’s Frances. Tell me. What happened to her? I told her she might be too old for this one, but no, Frances never admits to weakness.” She looked from Gabe to Ben.
Ben toed the dirt with his boot. “Frances is fine, as ornery as ever, worried about you.”
Gabe cleared his throat. “There was an incident involving Everett Poulsen. I found him early this morning. Dead.” God, was it only this morning? Seems like a week ago.
“Dead? Dead? No, that can’t be. I have to talk to him, find out more about him, find out how his beliefs got so skewed, why he abandoned me.” As she spoke, Kate’s voice grew slower but higher pitched. “No. You’re making this up. How could my life get any worse?”
Gabe pivoted in front of Kate, forcing her to stop. He took her hands in his. “It does get worse. It’s apparent that Everett did not die of natural causes. He was murdered.”
Kate began to giggle, then burst into full laughter. “I don’t believe this. Truly, my life is now a gigantic farce. Too screwed up for words,” she gasped out.
Ben squinted at Gabe, his lips pressed together. “We need to get her back. She’s hysterical. No telling what she’ll do.”
“Excuse me. I am right here. Don’t you dare talk about me as if I am a loon,” Kate said. “I deserve to be upset, Ben Burtoff. It’s not every week you find out your father is alive and well and living off the fruits of everything you despise and then find out the next day someone has killed him. If I want to cry, if I want to laugh, I have a right.” As she spoke, her pitch had risen again, to its now high wail.
Ben patted her shoulder. “Of course you do, hon. I’m sorry. I’m not good with big emotions. But I care and I want to help you make it through this.”
Something rang off in Ben’s tone, but Gabe couldn’t pinpoint what. Maybe Ben had realized that Kate might be heir to a lot of money. Pretty cynical thought, Gabe. Face it. As helpless as the younger man in the face of Kate’s hysteria, he opted for professor mode. “We both want to help you, Kate, but the truth is, no one knows much about what happened to your father. The sheriff is investigating and he will want to talk with you, just as he’s talked to all of us. He instructed us to bring you back and not tell you about Everett’s death, but I—we couldn’t do that to you. However, we can’t tell you much more. We need to get you back and help you through this ordeal.”
“Frances, my grandmother, what did she tell you? Did she . . . ”
“Let’s just get you back to the casita. It isn’t much farther,” Gabe said. He grasped her forearm again.
Ben took Kate’s other arm and the trio continued their westward trek. What little conversation they shared focused on the land, the wildlife and the scavenger hunt, all innocuous. No one spoke Everett Poulsen’s name, as if it were taboo.
Ben walked confidently, steering the others around hillocks and skirting ravines, probably shortening their trip. This was territory he knew well. How much did he hate Everett Poulsen for
taking this land from his family? Stealing his inheritance, in reality. And was it Everett, or someone else who bought the land from Ben’s sister? He needed to know more, but this wasn’t the time to interrogate Ben.
* * * *
When they neared the casita, Gabe felt Kate stiffen beside him. “I don’t know what to say to Frances, to the sheriff. I’m not sure I can do this.”
“Unfortunately, this is one of those things you do whether you think you can or not,” Gabe said. “But I’m certain you can. You are a strong woman.”
Ben fell back beside them from where he’d moved a few paces ahead. “Gabe’s right on. Strong, brave, beautiful. And remember we’re here for you. You’ve got friends.”
Kate managed a shaky smile. “Thanks for coming for me. And for letting me know about Everett. I’ll try not to tell the sheriff you spilled.”
Gabe shook his head. “Just tell him the truth. For one, that’s always the best plan, and second, what’s he gonna do? Arrest us? I doubt the Cochise county jail will hold all of us.”
“Actually, it would,” Ben said. When they both stared at him, he grinned and shrugged. “I wasn’t always the peaceful, loving guy you know now. Had a few tiny scrapes with the law when I rodeoed.”
“So Waylon and Willie were right,” Gabe said with a smile.
Kate looked at him blankly.
“ ‘Mama, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys.’” Gabe didn’t try to sing it.
“Great song,” Ben said. “Those guys are legends. Can’t believe you haven’t ever seen Willie in concert,” he said to Kate. “Love to take you to one. The guy’s in his 80s and still on the road.”
Kate looked underwhelmed. “He’s pretty amazing,” Gabe admitted. “I should have his voice at that age. Well, at any age.”
Kate’s lips curled into a tiny smile. “Thanks for your efforts, guys. Let’s just do it. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” She shook off their helping hands and strode forward.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: Frances Waits
T ripp was right to exclude her from the search party, but it didn’t make the hours awaiting word—or rather, flares—from the searchers pass any faster for Frances. It chafed to admit, even to herself, that she was less resilient than the other members of Adventure Calls, less energetic. When Tripp waffled about hiring her as a guide, she’d convinced him by touting her ability to relate to the older, wealthy clients he sought to expand his business. That, plus her offer to be a volunteer rather than a paid employee had sold Mr. Cheapo.
She loved her granddaughter, trusted her intelligence, but the girl’s volatile temper remained a big concern. Emotions rather than logical thinking ruled her life. Too much like Melody. She sighed. After some time in this new guide job, she ‘d have to step back and allow Kate to venture into the world on her own.
Helicopter grandparent, worst of the worst.
Packing Madrone’s supplies didn’t take long, since Madrone kept a tidy kitchen and worked from the boxes food was stored in. Packing passed the time and it would save Madrone some work. Good Lord knew that young woman worked hard enough. She started dinner, following Madrone’s directions but tossing in a few spices to add her personal style to the meal. Preparation was slow because she stopped every few minutes to pop outside and look for a flare.
When she saw the two flares that signaled Kate was found and uninjured, she sent up a prayer of thanks, hoping it got through the spiderweb of her own doubt. Once her prayers failed to save Melody from overdosing on drugs, she’d lost much of her faith in a higher power. She had not prayed for Kate’s safe return—too hypocritical—but now that she knew her granddaughter was safe, she expressed her gratitude to the universe.
Tripp and Heather returned first. They’d been headed back when they saw the flare. “Thank God she’s back with us,” Tripp said.
Heather nodded. “Hear, hear. I hope she’s okay. Frances, I owe you an apology for what I said about Kate earlier. You know, that she was spoiled. I’m really glad she’s back.”
Frances smiled her forgiveness while she puzzled over Tripp’s obvious relief that Kate had been found. After Heather cleaned up and changed clothes, Frances enlisted her help to help finish dinner while Tripp talked with the sheriff, whose deputies had lowered the balloon when the signal was heard. Heather tasted the stew and expressed her admiration for Frances’s additions. Her sleeveless tank gave a good view of two of her tattoos, one of an agave cactus and another, a butterfly.
“I’m not sure what to say to Kate,” Frances confided to Heather. “She was so angry when I told her about Everett, I feared she’d never speak to me again.” She chopped carrots and zucchini Heather pulled from the refrigerator. “Of course, she’s always had quite the temper, flared up quick and cooled down just as fast. I’m praying that’s the case this time.”
Heather stirred together sour cream, chives, and some chipotle powder for a dip for the vegetables. “She’s had time to cool off. Of course, when she finds out Everett’s dead. . . ” Heather’s voice trailed off.
“No telling. You’re right. Guess I’ll play it by ear.”
“My mom always seemed to know the right thing to say when I was upset about a snub from my friends or a loss at a track meet, stuff like that. It wasn’t until I graduated from NAU this last year that she confessed she’d never known what to say to me, that she just ‘let her heart speak.’” She teared up. “Pretty smart heart.” She patted Frances. “You’ll do fine. Just let your heart speak.”
Frances wiped tears from her cheeks with her knuckle. “Thank you.”
Gabe and Ben came in, Kate limping between them. “Kate needs to lie down and she needs something for her eyes,” Gabe announced as they walked through the door. “Talking can come later. Where’s Madrone? I’m sure she’ll have some salve or something.”
Madrone and Jesse came in soon afterward. “We followed her tracks for a while, but then we had to turn back. Glad you found her,” Jesse said, clapping Ben on the back. Madrone hugged Kate and then went to prepare a weak solution of cider vinegar in water and had Kate put the cool cloth on her eyes.
Frances moved quietly to stand beside the cot where Kate rested. She cleared her throat.
“Hi, Grandma,” Kate said. “Don’t be too pissed at me.”
Frances knelt down beside the cot and clutched both Kate’s hands. “Sweetie, I’m not angry. I only hope one day you can forgive me for not telling you about Everett sooner.”
Kate gripped her hands tightly. “It’s still pretty raw. Give me some time.”
“All the time you need.” She pushed herself up from the floor with difficulty. “We’ve got stew ready. May I bring you some?”
“My eyes feel a lot better. I’ll come out and join the group in a few minutes.” She paused. “I know about Everett dying—being killed. I didn’t do it, you’ve got to believe me.”
“Of course you didn’t. And neither did I. You’re going to have to talk to the—”
“Sheriff. Yes, I know. Gabe and Ben told me.” After a moment’s silence, she added, “I’m glad they told me. I’ve had a while to get used to the idea. Even though the sheriff won’t like it.”
“I’ll leave you to rest. I’m glad you’re back and okay. I confess I was worried about you.”
Kate actually laughed. “Now that’s a surprise. You worrying about me. Huh.”
Frances’s face caught fire. “I know, I know. The ultimate helicopter grandparent, that’s me. I have so much to apologize for.”
“And so little time. Stop, Grandma. I do need to rest before I face the sheriff. I’m going to tell him the truth as I know it. Did you?”
“Yes.” At least most of it. “Gave me a very good motive for killing Everett. Past its shelf life, though. Now I’m really off. I do love you and wish things could have turned out better.” Her voice faded on the last words. So true about so much of Kate’s life. Maybe she wasn’t a helicopter grandparent, just a helluva crappy one. If things worked o
ut and Everett’s murderer was found, maybe, just maybe, the two of them could work things out between them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: Two Sleuths Strategize
G abe woke early and hurried to the bathroom he shared with Jesse and Ben. He cut his shower short even though the stream of water on his head and body felt like heaven after their desert outing. He wanted to get down to the kitchen and talk with Madrone before others straggled in. He had no doubt she’d be there, fixing breakfast for the crew, despite their late arrival back to Tripp’s Tucson home from the casita the previous night.
The drive back had been tedious, with Gabe making an effort to stay awake for driver Madrone, talking over the snores of Ben and Frances and the occasional sleep-induced yelp from Heather.
Before they left the casita, Tripp announced he’d be home later, that he had some things to do before he could call it a day. As if the rest of them were slugs. Tripp assured them Flicker would be there to greet them and that the housekeeper had come and prepared all their rooms.
If a laconic, over-the-shoulder as she headed upstairs, “You know where your rooms are,” was a greeting, then Flicker delivered it. Of course they knew, since they’d stayed there until the training test in the desert had begun three days earlier. Being extra helpful, Flicker-style, she added, “The fridge is stocked with food. Don’t wake me before ten tomorrow.”
The crew staggered to their beds. Because of her kitchen duties, Madrone had her own room. Gabe had lucked out and had a room of his own, because he was, after all, part owner of Adventure Calls. Screw Ben’s snarking about age before beauty. He valued his privacy higher than forced camaraderie with his employees.
He found Madrone in the kitchen, whistling, pulling things from the fridge. He moved silently behind her and kissed her cheek. She squealed and turned toward him, clutching eggs and meat against her stomach. “Ack, you idiot. I almost dropped our breakfast.”
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