“Too true,” Madrone said. Her mouth felt drier than milkweed in June and her voice cracked. Despite her nerves, she made a mental note of Lorraine’s comment about Everett’s money.
Lorraine handed over her water bottle. “Drink. The least we have to worry about is swapping spit.”
Madrone took a swig, thinking that Lorraine’s formerly elegant vocabulary seemed to be fading. “Thanks.”
“I’ll call my insurance company. We need a tow and a ride home.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: Frances Hitches a Ride
G abe stopped by Tripp’s office before heading to his room. He knocked before opening the door. Tripp didn’t raise his head. “Not now. I’m busy.”
“It’s me, Tripp. Just need some paperwork on the new guides.”
Tripp placed his hands on some papers atop his desk and looked up. “Nobody’s a new guide until I say so.”
Gabe’s chest tightened. For crying out loud. The man turned every encounter into a dick swinging contest. “And I’m not a partner until when? The check clears? I’m thinking it already has, buddy.”
Tripp released a long sigh. “Sorry. What do you need? Why?”
“I need their applications, everything you’ve got, on each of the guides.”
“Can it wait? I’m busy here.” He waved at his desk.
Gabe threw himself into the chair Tripp had not invited him to occupy. “Nope. Can’t wait.” No need to advertise his interest in the new employees as potential suspects. “Trying to get ahead on planning the next assignments. I know these folks in person. Now I’d like to see the papers.”
Tripp snorted. “The papers? They’re not dogs or horses.” He narrowed his eyes at Gabe. “I hope you’re not prying into Everett’s death. That’s the sheriff’s business.”
“Nope. I trust Idle to do his job. I’m just trying to do mine, partner.” He put some emphasis on the last word.
“You can horn in if you want, but like I said, nobody’s a guide until they pass the final.”
Saving the “we need a simpler final exam” argument until a better time, Gabe said, “We need ‘em all, Tripp. Plus they’re all good people.”
“Except the one who’s a murderer.”
“True that.” He waited, leaning back, going for nonchalant when all he wanted was to hide his face and its many tells. “By the way, I’m headed into town on some errands. Taking Frances with me. You might ask Heather or Flicker to help with lunch.”
If Tripp’s dark brown eyes were lasers, Gabe’s face would be ashes. Pretty clear the man didn’t like taking orders, even when they were nice, polite suggestions. He spun his chair to reach into the file cabinet behind him and rummaged a bit, then came up with several manila folders. “Here you go. See you later.”
“Thanks.” Gabe dredged up a broad smile and left the office.
* * * *
In his room, Gabe moved the furniture around to make space to do some yoga. Without something to calm him, he might charge back to Tripp’s office and deck his new partner, or worse, dissolve the newly formed company. If he went outside to exercise, he might run into another employee and punch them. He needed to control his rage or it would ruin him.
Once he’d calmed some, Gabe used his computer to try to locate an address for Ben’s sister. He recalled Ben mentioning Patsy. He made the assumption her given name was Patricia and searched for Patricia Burtoff, hoping she hadn’t married or had retained her own name. He found her and a phone number and address. Decided to head to the address when he was in town instead of phoning ahead.
While on line he discovered that he’d need to go to the County Recorder’s Office for Cochise County to find out about land records in the county. That would have to wait until tomorrow. He wanted to know if Everett had other investors in Mountain Shadows who would benefit by his death.
Frances knocked on Gabe’s door around 11:00. “I have a 1:15 appointment. Let’s head into town and grab some lunch before.”
“Sounds good,” he said. Madrone could handle lunch prep on her own. This was a good chance to pump Frances for information. A job for the insect loving detective.
Gabe helped Frances climb into Ruby, his old pick-up, ignoring her grumble that she could manage on her own. “Let me be a hero, Frances. I don’t get many chances.”
“Save it for Madrone.”
He looked at her. “Madrone’s a friend. That’s all.”
She laughed. “If so, then you should put both of you out of your misery. I’m not blind to the way you look at each other.”
“You think?”
“I know.” She smiled. “And I’m pretty sure it goes both ways. Give it time.”
Right. Time I won’t have if I end up in jail. “Where to, my lady?”
They ate lunch at Renee’s Organic Oven on Tanque Verde. After they finished their pizza, Frances told Gabe he could drop her at Southern Arizona Legal Aid for her appointment. She saw his reaction despite his effort. Once again he cursed his telltale face.
Frances smiled lopsidedly. “Yeah, yeah, I know. That’s for poor people. And that, my dear boy, is what I am.”
“That’s not what I heard.”
“Sometimes rumors are out of date. College is expensive, especially when you lose your scholarship. Kate’s smart, real smart, actually, but she seemed to think that activism and socializing were more important than her grades. I tried to make some quick investment turnarounds and turn around they did. Right down the crapper. My house has a second mortgage, and I’ve sunk to revolving credit. From one zero percent credit card to the next.”
Gabe had no idea what to say. Or why Frances confided in him. So he said nothing.
“It would help a lot if Kate was recognized as an heir. I need to find out if it’s even possible. I know you’ll keep mum. Even Tripp doesn’t know. I paid him to let me be a student guide, saying I needed to keep an eye on Kate. But I’m hoping you two will decide to hire me. Every eco tour company needs an eccentric old enviro.”
This woman needed to stop confiding her secrets in him, and worse, asking him to keep those confidences, well, confidential. If Frances hoped that Kate would inherit Everett’s estate, probably a considerable one, it made her a perfect suspect. Knock off the developer and her debts in a few strikes of a knife. If she’d killed Everett, however, it hardly seemed feasible she’d hook up with a lawyer to snag his estate for Kate days later. A wise person would let the dust settle and the blood congeal. More than that, why would she tell Kate that Everett was her father and then meet up with the man and off him? It made no sense, even if he could imagine Frances as a brutal killer. Even if she was just that, why would she use Gabe’s knife and leave it at the scene of the crime? And then proceed to tell Gabe all the reasons she made a great murder suspect?
Frances still focused a hopeful gaze on Gabe and he forced himself to answer. “For what it’s worth, I think you’d make a great guide, and I’ll see what I can work out with Tripp. As to your finances, that’s your business, not mine. I wish you luck with Legal Aid.”
“This is a screening appointment. Their attorneys may be booked out for ages, but maybe they can recommend someone who’ll take our case on contingency.”
“I’ll drop you off and run a few errands.” He let himself grin. “Umm. You might make a better impression without pizza sauce on your cheek.”
She grinned and headed for the restroom.
* * * *
Now that Gabe knew the home address for Ben’s sister, he considered how to best approach her. He drove to her home, a small adobe in the western foothills. It was on a dirt road, set off by itself. The small enclosed yard in front was beautiful, with shrubs and succulents of the local desert groomed and cared for as they had not been in the wild. At one end of the porch was a trellis with a luxuriant climbing rose, on the other a swing. He decided it wasn’t prudent to brazenly knock on Patsy Burtoff’s door and ask if she thought her baby brother capable of murder. He needed to speak with her, but
he’d figure out how later. For now, he’d visit some county offices and find out more about Everett and his development company.
At the Pima County Registrar’s office, a short, thick woman, with short, thick brown hair that circled her face, greeted him with a friendly smile. She wore a shirt printed with bright purple and red flowers. When he presented his list of questions, she smiled. “You’re a curious fellow. In the inquiring mind way, not the strange way. Although you might be both. I don’t know you well enough to tell. Yet.” She had twenty or more years on Gabe. Surely she wasn’t flirting? With a smile that could only be defined as flirtatious, the helpful clerk told him he’d have to go to Cochise County to find out about property transfers on Mountain Shadows. However, if Everett’s development company was licensed in Arizona—and it had to be to do business in the state—he could find that online with the Arizona Corporation Commission. “I’m caught up here. Give me the name and I’ll look it up.”
Poulsen Property was indeed an Arizona licensed corporation. Its corporate officers were Everett Poulsen, Lorraine Poulsen,
“That name, Poulsen, it’s familiar to me.” She pushed her glasses back up on her nose, pondering. Then she snapped her fingers. “That’s it! The guy died over the weekend. No details. Exposure, maybe?” She peered at Gabe and fluffed her hair as if he held a hidden camera. “You a reporter?” Again with the nose wrinkle.
“No way. Do I look like a reporter?” he asked, trying to appear offended.
“No-o-o-. You look,” she said, “like someone I’d like to know better.” She stared a little longer, her finger to her lip. “You could be a teacher. Maybe an accountant. Not a lawyer. Too nice.”
Gabe took a breath, let it out, hoping to control the inevitable blush, hating his inability to stop it. “Now you’ve caught me. I’m just a number cruncher, helping my boss decide on an investment. I’d better head back home and report.”
“You know anything else about the dead guy? I heard he was on his own land.”
He nodded as if he’d heard the same thing. “I didn’t hear much.” All I did was find the poor guy. “That Mountain Shadows looks to be a pretty big development.”
“It’s near Benson, which means Cochise County has all the paperwork and permits, like I told you before.”
“Guess I know where I’ll be tomorrow.” He flipped his notebook shut. “Thanks for your help, Shelley.”
She smiled and gave a little win-some, lose-some shrug. “Any time. Good luck with your inquiries.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: Dinner from Nothing
G abe headed for the kitchen, toting three bags of groceries he purchased after getting a text from Madrone. Jesse met him in the hall and offered to help carry groceries. He handed him a bag, even though he wanted to talk to Madrone about their investigation.
From the kitchen he heard mariachi music, loud and joyous. A woman’s voice—no, two—in pretty good harmony. A clear soprano cartwheeled above Madrone’s rich alto.
He walked in, grinning. Madrone stood at the huge island, chopping peppers on a red chopping board, her back to Gabe and Jesse. On the other side, Heather Begay ripped lettuce into a large bowl. The scents of onions and garlic teased his nostrils.
When she saw Gabe, Heather stopped singing and smiled at him. She lifted a finger and pointed at the two men, alerting Madrone. She turned and jumped and then placed the knife on the counter. She shook her finger back and forth. “No startling the cook. I might have stabbed you.”
“Or yourself. Don’t want your blood in our dinner.” He paused. “Or mine.”
Gabe peeked over Madrone’s shoulder and Jesse asked, “What’s for supper?”
Madrone tossed her hair back so it hit Gabe in the face. “Tucson Surprise. Made from whatever we still had around.”
“Thought you were going to town today.”
“I went with Lorraine and she had some car problems before we made it. Hence my text to you.”
Jesse lowered his bag to the island, knocking a water glass over. Heather snatched it up and stared at Jesse. “Klutz. You could have put it on the counter over there. It’s clear.”
Jesse trotted to the counter and grabbed a wad of paper towels. “Sorry,” he muttered, his face ashen.
Figuring ignoring him would ease Jesse’s embarrassment, Gabe asked, “What happened? Lorraine toss you out of her car?”
Heather, who’d begun to empty the grocery bag, stopped. “Not funny, Gabe.”
Gabe rubbed Madrone’s shoulders. “What did I say?”
Madrone faced him, her expression solemn. “I wish I could tell this story once at dinner, but,” she lifted her shoulders and pulled them back. “Lorraine’s brakes went out on the hill on Swan toward town. She had to do some fancy driving to get us to stop without crashing. The tow truck brought me back here.”
Gabe swallowed, his lungs sucked empty. “You okay? Both of you?” he corrected himself.
“We’re fine.” Madrone scanned his face. “Really, Gabe. These things happen. She’s a good driver and we’re both all right.” After a moment, she added, “I wasn’t up for another shopping trip.” She leaned closer to him and whispered, “I dug up some dirt. We need to talk.” ”
Jesse walked like a robot to the kitchen door, touching Madrone’s arm as he passed. “Glad you’re good. I need to go to my room.” Each word came out slow and stiff.
Gabe’s eyes teared and he said, “Those onions are strong. Can’t wait for dinner. How can I help?”
Madrone wiped his cheeks with a corner of her apron. “Softy,” she whispered. In a normal tone she added, “Dinner’s covered, but you could set the table. Lorraine went home before lunch and Kate’s staying in her room, so that makes eight. If Flicker decides to grace us with her presence.”
“Got it.”
Gabe moved around the kitchen, following Madrone’s directions to find plates and utensils and cloth napkins for dinner. On one trip past Madrone, when Heather was at the far end of the kitchen in the pantry, he said, “I found out some things, as well. Can we meet after dinner?”
She nodded.
* * * *
Fortune, unlike humans, needed neither skill nor practice to mess with peoples’ plans. How many times did he need that lesson?
Gabe stood at the sink, towel in hand, as Jesse washed and Ben rinsed the dishes. At dinner, Jesse insisted on handling cleanup and ordered Madrone to head directly to bed. “I’m just glad you’re okay after the car incident. Get off your feet.” Gabe likened Jesse’s concern over his new partner to that of a cop, but his relief seemed a bit much given they had yet to work together.
Jesse’s offer was seconded by Ben, who volunteered Gabe to join them. “The Prof set the table, so he knows where stuff goes,” Ben said.
Madrone yawned and thanked them. “I guess I’m a bit worse for wear than I thought. Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t cure.” She gave Gabe a telling glance, but he couldn’t tell what it meant.
So he played the hand he’d been dealt. “How you doing cooped up in Tripp’s home?” Gabe asked Jesse.
Jesse swallowed and looked fascinated by the sink filled with dishes. When he looked up, he said, “Not bad. Not every house has a climbing wall and the national forest isn’t far.”
“No kidding,” Ben agreed. “Plus a park nearby. We could play baseball, Gabe, if you’d be pitcher on my side this time.”
In college and again in Afghanistan, Gabe had excelled at baseball, his fast ball and slider both pretty accurate. When the guides had played during their first week of training, Jesse’s team, with Gabe’s pitching, had beaten Ben’s team soundly. “Sounds like fun, if things calm down a bit.” And I’m not arrested.
“I’ll remember that promise,” Ben said. “Man, Tripp must be rolling in it to have a house like this.”
Yeah. Yet the man said he had no money to invest in Adventure Calls. Bad decisions or bald lies?
Jesse cleared his throat. “Heard anything from the sheriff? Wish he
’d let us know about progress in the investigation.”
“I gather it’s their policy not to share what they’ve discovered with the suspects,” Gabe said.
Ben hooted. “You could teach sarcasm as well as entomology, Gabe. I hear you, but just waiting for something to happen isn’t my thing either. I’m with Jesse on that.”
Gabe moved the stack of plates to the shelf. “Didn’t you say you used to rodeo? Maybe there’s one going on near.”
Ben scowled at him. “Rodeo’s a sport like any other. You have to be in shape for it. I guess I could sign on as an EMT. You reckon they’ll drag this on and keep us locked up here?”
“You could be a clown,” Jesse said.
Ben flicked water at Jesse’s face. “Hell, no. Clowning takes more stamina and practice than bull riding.”
“So go visit your sister,” Gabe said. “I’d visit mine, but two of them live in France and I’m not sure the sheriff would let me go. Yours lives in Tucson, right?”
Ben shot him a sour look. “Yeah, I already told you that. We’re not close. People drift apart. Pat and I have different goals, I’d guess you’d say.”
Jesse paused, hands still in the soapy water. “Man, I’ll go visit your sister, Prof. I’ve always wanted to go to France.”
Ben waved the dish towel in front of Jesse’s face. “Uh, excuse me, but you’d have to like, talk to people?” Ben said. “In French? You have enough problems in English.”
Jesse flushed red. “I know French,” he muttered. He drained the sink and dried his hands.
Jesse had to deal by himself with flack about his reticence. Still, Gabe said, “You’d do better than I would. I haven’t even been issued an invitation from my mother, and she moved there when I was a teenager.”
Jesse let out a genuine laugh. “Which tells you why no invite, if the teenage you was anything like teenage me.”
“Good point.” Relations with his mother, who had moved to France when his parents divorced, were strained. It hurt that she had not invited him to visit, even after almost twenty years. One of his sisters had returned to Colorado to join the family business, but Miranda and Celia remained in France with their mom. “But you seem to be doing well now. I like the adult Jesse.”
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