“Oh, fooey. I said that to rile Tripp. He was always a better lover when trying to convince me of something. Men.” She made an ugly noise in her throat and spat.
Gabe stood, still careful to move slow and easy and stay behind the brush. He motioned to his companions to move into position on the other side of the clearing. He looked at his watch.
Never had three minutes stretched so long. He moved soundlessly to his right until he had a clear view of Lorraine and Kate. If either one looked his way, she’d see him. He saw the handgun in Lorraine’s right hand, aimed at Kate, trussed and vulnerable. He peered across the clearing to the south. Saw Madrone stand, then crouch. Looked to the north, but saw nothing. Hoped Ben had found somewhere close to hide.
He pulled his right arm back, ready to throw, then raised his left arm into the air and dropped it. From across the clearing, a horrible screech sounded, a loud, inhuman yodel, like a wounded rabbit. Along with that came a serious rustling of brush. Madrone at her finest.
Lorraine, her expression more puzzled than alarmed, looked toward the ruckus and her gun arm followed her gaze.
Gabe took a short breath and let the first rock fly toward his target, the handgun she held. He struck her shoulder and cursed.
Lorraine spun in his direction and fired at the same time Gabe let fly with the second rock.
The stone hit her weapon and the gun dropped to the earth. Lorraine threw herself toward the gun. Before she reached the ground, a low crouching figure barreled into the clearing, knocking her over. In an instant, Ben rose to stand above her, the gun in his hand.
Lorraine grabbed his leg and yanked. He toppled backward, but kept the gun.
Surprised by the power of Lorraine’s rage, Gabe cocked his arm and leaned into the pitch. The third rock struck her as she scuttled backward in the dirt. It hit her stomach and she fell flat on her back.
A rocket called Madrone landed across Lorraine’s chest, pinning her arms down. “Puta, bruja,” she intoned, puffing. She slapped her face, hard, once, twice, again. “How could you do that? Kill your husband in a rage, I can maybe understand that. He was a brute. But push the blame on others? Kill Kate, who has done nothing but be born of that—that horrid man?” She punched her again.
Lorraine hollered each time Madrone slapped her. “Let go of me,” she squealed. “You’re crazy.” She thrashed around.
Ben loomed above the two women until Lorraine could see his face. “I have a gun and I am pretty dang pissed,” he said.
Lorraine’s thrashing stopped. She spat on Madrone. Madrone grabbed Lorraine’s left arm and twisted it until the woman was forced to flip onto her stomach. Madrone straddled her back and forced the other arm behind her. “Give me the rope.”
Gabe ran to Kate and untied her arms. She wriggled them. “Ow, ow, they’re asleep.” She rubbed her hands together. She leaned forward and Gabe saw a bloody goose egg on the back of her head. “She knocked you out,” he said, his anger making his voice gravelly. He used his handkerchief to sponge at it. She took it and held it to her head.
“I’ve got a first aid kit in the truck,” Ben said.
“We’ll get it soon,” he promised Kate. He knelt to untie her legs. As soon as he pulled the rope free, she trotted to where Lorraine lay and kicked her in the side. “That feels better,” she said over Lorraine’s howl of pain.
Gabe handed Madrone the rope. She tied Lorraine’s arms behind her back and they hauled her to her feet. “Don’t try to run,” Gabe warned her. “There’s a lot of pent-up anger here.”
“Pent-up, my ass. You rocked, Madrone. But I don’t trust her. Can’t relax while her legs are free,” Ben said. “Hold the gun.” He handed it to Gabe. He grabbed Lorraine’s bound hands and dragged her to the ironwood tree. She cursed and kicked at him the whole distance. “In my grandpa’s day, they’d have lynched you out here to this very convenient tree.” He shoved her downward. “Sit.” He held out his arm toward Gabe. “Rope.” Rope in hand, he squatted beside Lorraine. In seconds, he’d run the rope between and around her feet and the tree, effectively lashing her to it. “Old ropers’ trick,” he said with a shrug.
Before he could move, Kate threw her arms around him and kissed his cheek. Then she hugged Madrone and Gabe. “You are all my heroes,” she said. “How did you find me out here?”
“Teamwork,” Gabe said.
Ben and Madrone gave Kate more information on how they’d found her using the plot plans for the development and Ben’s memories of his family ranch. The crunch of tires on gravel and a door slamming interrupted their story.
Heather rushed to join them.
“Oh thank heavens,” she cried. She ran to Kate and engulfed her, tears streaming down her face. “Law enforcement should be here soon,” she said. “I called 911 and they said they’d find someone patrolling I-10. They were aware of Poulsen’s property and I told them to take the first gravel road to the right. Right?”
“Correct,” Ben said. “There aren’t many ironwood trees out here. You did mention that, right?”
Heather’s exuberance turned into crestfallen. After a moment’s stunned silence, she laughed. “Doh. I’m a guide, you dolt.”
* * * *
A state trooper arrived and Lorraine shouted at him. “This group of ruffians kidnapped me. They want a ransom.”
“And then they called 911?” he asked. After hearing Kate’s version, confirmed by her four rescuers, and seeing the still bloody scalp wound and the rope burns on her wrists and ankles, he cuffed a cursing Lorraine and deposited her in his vehicle.
The trooper wanted to call in an ambulance for Kate, but was assured they’d have her checked out in Tucson. He told them he’d call the sheriff and would likely transport Lorraine to the Benson substation.
Gabe stood with his arm around Madrone and watched the car drive off. Madrone’s body still quivered, either with exhaustion or the rage that kindled her assault on Lorraine. “I plan to stay on your good side in the future,” he murmured into her hair.
She put an arm around his waist and snuggled closer. “I’ll count on that,” she said.
Close to Madrone seemed a very good place to be.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO: Epilog
T wo days after Lorraine Poulsen was arrested for her husband’s murder and the attempted murder of Kate O’Shea, the newest crew members were sprawled on and off the furniture in Tripp’s living room. Madrone sat in a modified Lotus Pose on the huge leather sofa opposite Tripp and Gabe, whose positions in dining chairs at one end of the room became the focal point for the new guides. Kate lounged on the floor, between her grandmother’s legs.
“The prosecutor says since she only talked about killing Kate and didn’t shoot at her, they may have to drop those charges,” Frances said. “She denied that she really intended to kill Kate, but I don’t think anyone believed her. Still, it would have been nice to see her go down for that as well as Everett’s murder.”
Kate twisted to look up at her grandmother. “I knew you were tough, but I never considered you vindictive.”
Frances chuckled and waved her forefinger at Ben. “Only when someone hurts my baby girl.” Ben squirmed a bit, amusing Madrone.
Tripp stood. “One piece of good news. Until Lorraine’s fate is settled, no one else can proceed with the development of Mountain Shadows.” There was a round of applause in the room. Tripp cleared his throat. Twice. “On a different note, as you all know by now, each of you completed the final training exam successfully. I’m proud of you.”
Madrone shifted on the sofa. Sheez. What’s Gabe, a moldy tortilla? Doesn’t Tripp remember who his new partner is? Gabe didn’t flinch or show much expression other than a bland smile.
“Where’s Flicker?” Heather asked, her expression innocent. Madrone stifled her smile. Innocent, my asparagus.
Tripp cleared his throat again. “Flicker decided to return to Needles, where she has family. She sent her best wishes to all of you.”
I’ll just bet she did. Madr
one didn’t dare a glance at Heather.
“Anyway,” Tripp continued, “I’ve finalized the plans for our next tour. Some of our more experienced guides will be leading the Grand Canyon Adventure. Madrone and Jesse, supervised by Gabe, will lead the Moab Red Rock Adventure. Heather will accompany them.”
Gabe raised an eyebrow. “Actually,” he said, “I’ll be part of team, not the supervisor. And I’ve given Heather a brief leave of absence to visit Flagstaff. Personal business.”
Tripp’s normally ruddy face flushed a deeper red. “You should have discussed that with me before this meeting.”
“Yup. I should have. But you weren’t around.” Gabe’s expression didn’t change.
“Forgot to give you a heads up. I was in Phoenix, discussing a new advertising direction with the State Tourism Division.”
“Great idea. Which brings up another thing I should have discussed with you before this meeting,” Gabe said, rising to confront Tripp from his higher stature. “In fact, maybe we can hold off on the meeting until after you and I talk.” He nodded toward Tripp’s office, which adjoined the huge living area.
“No, no. We’re all a family. You and I are the parents, but the kids should have input as well.”
Until the kids piss Mom and Dad off. This could be interesting. Madrone cast a look at the other guides. Frances leaned forward, almost resting her chin on Kate’s still-bandaged head. “Am I the grandma or one of the kiddies?”
Tripp frowned. “It was a metaphor. Do you know what a metaphor is, Frances?” She smirked at him. “What did you want to bring up?” he asked Gabe.
That eyebrow shot up again. Sexy. “Oookay. We can be more productive if we divide our responsibilities. You handle the marketing and P.R., and I’ll help when I can and do most of the photography we need. You do the tour bookings, because you have an established relationship with the hotel and inn employees and the like. I’ll handle employee relationships, hiring, firing, granting vacations, training policies and programs. And bugs. I’ll handle insects.”
Tripp’s mouth gaped open. Frances initiated a slow clap, which the others soon followed. The kids apparently agreed with Gabe. Tripp closed his mouth, leaned back in his chair, and looked at each face in his “family.” He shrugged and gave a thumbs up.
Madrone clapped and smiled. The Prof was finding his way.
The End
Acknowledgements
Special thanks go to my Beta readers and to my longtime and new critique partners. From Conda Douglas, the encouragement to keep going; from Linda and Sue, the wisdom that Roadkill simply didn’t have hero status; from the Writer’s Workshop, laughter when I needed it most, along with punctuation and brilliant insights about southeastern Arizona. Every error is mine. I took some huge liberties with the Sonoran desert around Benson to fit my story.
About the Author
Kathy’s spent her life in love—with words and books, with traveling the U.S. and the world, with rescue dogs, and with nature. Her current canine pal is Mattie, a Catahoula and Lab mix who’s a slut for love and treats. She lives in southeastern Arizona, with her husband and Mattie and the ghosts of beloved pets past, and enjoys exploring the cuisine and the new—to her—terrain.
If you’ve enjoyed your time in the world of Kathy’s words, please place a brief review on Goodreads or Amazon, or do it the old-fashioned way, and tell a friend.
Murder, Sonoran Style is Kathy’s third book. The first two are set in Idaho, where she lived some thirty years, and feature some kooky characters who are planning to show up in her next Adventure Calls novel.
To learn about new releases and get a free short story set in Tucson, sign up for her very occasional newsletter. https://KathyMcIntosh.com
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