Wayne spotted the newcomers and stood, relief flitting across his features. “Allow me to introduce my relatives. This is my cousin, homicide detective Dalton Vail, and his wife, Marla. Come in, please. These folks are blaming my father for the drought on their property. I’m telling them his project has nothing to do with their problems.”
“Isn’t the desert supposed to be dry?” Marla asked with an innocent expression.
“We used to have a creek running alongside our ranch,” said one fellow with a thatch of peppery hair. “The water isn’t there anymore because Raymond is stealing it for his project.”
“That’s nonsense,” Wayne said. “He’s gotten all the proper permits.”
“We know he has the mayor under his thumb.”
“What does that mean?”
The man’s face reddened. “It means he has plenty of money to spread around. Where does he get his funding? Is your dude ranch doing that well?”
“It’s none of your business, Calvin.”
“It is when somebody is offering to buy us out.”
“That’s not my father. You’re barking up the wrong tree. We’ve had the same offers.” A vein stood out on Wayne’s temple. He looked about to have a stroke.
“Maybe Raymond is poisoning our cattle so we’ll have to sell,” another man suggested.
Marla leaned against a wall, listening with stunned dismay to the conversation. How dare these men come here to accuse Wayne’s father?
“You’re way out of line.” Wayne hooked his thumbs into his belt, but not before Marla noticed the flicker of doubt cross his face.
With Raymond’s dubious history, she wasn’t sure they could trust the patriarch. Yet she didn’t believe him responsible for climactic conditions on people’s land. Plus, he blamed Hugh Donovan for their own problems, although that could be a smokescreen.
Maybe Donovan had put these guys up to this confrontation. The notion made her stand up straight and speak out.
“Someone has been sabotaging Raymond’s project as well as causing malicious incidents at Last Trail,” she said. “We’re in the same boat.”
The man named Calvin replied. “Raymond is probably trying to throw you off track by causing trouble himself.”
“He wouldn’t hurt his own wife or nephew.” Marla related the incidents with Carol’s horse and the rattlesnake in Dalton’s luggage.
“Be that as it may,” Calvin said to Wayne, “we’re going to sue for injunction if your daddy doesn’t remedy the situation.”
“And I may countersue for slander if you keep bad-mouthing my father.”
“He must have diverted our creek. You get him to fix things properly, or else.”
The stand-off ended as the four men stomped from the room.
Wayne sank into his chair and covered his face with his hands. “Will my father never cease to aggravate people?”
“He’s not the root of these issues,” Dalton said, his tone somber. “But someone else may very well have a motive to induce people to sell. Marla, show him your photos.”
She retrieved her digital camera from her purse. “We hired a hiking guide recommended by your father and discovered an entrance to the old copper mine up on the mountain. Guess what? Somebody has reopened it and has an active operation going on down there.”
Wayne’s face registered surprise as he studied the pictures. The orbs weren’t evident on the camera, only on the computer. But ghosts weren’t the topic here.
“Those tunnels extend for miles. They might even underlie Craggy Peak. That could explain why someone wants to shut down my father’s project.”
“You’re catching on.” Dalton’s voice held a note of approval. “But this doesn’t account for the problems on Donovan’s ranch and elsewhere. Or on our place, for that matter.”
Marla’s ears perked up. This was the first time Dalton had referred to Last Trail in the possessive.
She put her camera away. “It would help if Raymond would level with us. Why won’t he admit where he got the money to buy the ghost town and start construction?”
Wayne plowed his fingers through his hair. His cowboy hat hung on a hook behind the door. “It doesn’t make sense. I can’t understand why he’d keep something like this from his family. What is he hiding from us?”
“Maybe he took out an equity loan on the ranch,” Dalton suggested, his face pensive.
“He said he hadn’t taken out any loans,” Marla reminded them. “Besides, Carol would have noticed since she does the books.”
“I’m fed up with his attitude. This has gone on long enough,” Wayne said in a firm tone. “Either Dad reveals his source of funding, or he can hire another general manager.”
“Now Wayne, don’t let those neighbors or their threats get to you.” Dalton settled into a chair opposite his desk.
“I should call the bank to see what I can find out.”
“That’s a good idea. It’s Sunday, though. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow. Let tempers cool in the meantime.”
“I see Carol isn’t here,” Marla noted. “Is she feeling all right?”
“She’s taking the day off, but she’s fine, thanks.”
“Then if you guys don’t mind, I’m going to rest before dinner. Dalton, I’ll meet you back at the room.” She’d let the men have some private time to discuss things.
On her way out, Marla stopped at the front desk. “Janice, can you tell me where the housekeepers stash their carts for the day? Is it the same place where they obtain supplies?”
She wanted to encounter Juanita again to see what the maid could tell her.
The redhead glanced up from her computer screen. “I’m so glad you dropped by,” she said in a hushed tone. “Wayne would be intolerable after a visit like he had today. Those men are totally off track.”
Marla leaned across the counter, keeping her voice low. “Where do you think Raymond got his funds to buy the ghost town?”
“He must have had a partner.”
“That’s what Dalton thinks. Could it be anyone we’ve met?”
Janice pressed her lips together. “I have my theories. It’s pretty obvious if you think about it. Anyway, the maids keep their carts in a storeroom beyond the laundry room entrance. Why do you ask?”
“One of the housekeepers is hot for a wrangler on the ranch. I want to ask her about him.”
Janice’s brows lifted. “Do you think he’s responsible for the mischief that has been happening here?”
“It’s possible. I’d like to see what she can tell me.”
When Marla finally located Juanita, the raven-haired woman was cleaning her last room for the day. Marla entered through the open door, her arrival prompting the maid to respond with a torrent of words in Spanish.
“Please, calm down. What’s wrong?”
“Everything is wrong, señora. Jesse does not care for me anymore.”
At the bedside, she whipped a top sheet toward the headboard, tucked it in, and then laid out the comforter with jerky motions. She smoothed it with her palms, her face averted from Marla.
“Why would you believe Jesse has lost interest in you?”
“I do not know. I tell him how I feel, and at first he seemed happy. But now he does not come around for days.”
“Maybe he’s busy.” Marla stood back as Juanita sprayed disinfectant into the air. The mist gave the room a fresh smell.
“Not true. He has things on his mind, and they don’t include me.”
“Oh? And what would that be?” She followed Juanita into the bathroom where the housekeeper lugged a plastic tote holding cleaning supplies.
“You would be surprised. But even though he rejects me, I not give away his secrets.”
“Juanita, people have gotten hurt. Carol fell off her horse when it hit a trip wire and smacked her head. My husband almost got bitten by a rattlesnake somebody put in his suitcase. If Jesse knows anything about these incidents, you should tell us.”
Juanita pau
sed midway to wiping down the mirror and glared at her. “My Jesse would not do such terrible things.”
“According to what you’ve said, he isn’t your Jesse anymore. So why be loyal to a guy who’s turned his back on you?”
Juanita waved her rag in the air. “I tell you this. He understands you people blame the Donovans. But Jesse believes the fault lies elsewhere.”
“Yes, you told me this before. Who does he think is doing these things?” Marla squeezed her fists in frustration.
“Jesse wants proof before he says more. I hope he is not wrong about Señor Donovan. It surprises me how he defends the man after . . . well, I must get back to work.”
When it didn’t appear as though Marla could convince the young housekeeper to say more, she headed back to her hacienda up a sandy path. As she climbed higher, the view stretched to encompass the saguaro forest and the mountains beyond.
A side road branched off, twisting into the distance. Marla did a double take. Had she seen a woman in a white dress and wearing a hat waving at her? But after she blinked, the lady was gone.
Marla dodged past the sign that said Staff Only. This might be a back route to the barbecue pit as it seemed to go in the same direction. She swallowed past a dry throat, realizing she needed to drink more water in this moisture-free climate. Her hair elevated in the static electricity, and her nasal membranes throbbed.
The vegetation grew thicker on either side of her, surprising her with its denseness. Saguaro stalks poked up from among the shrubbery, aiming toward the sky. Ahead, the hills took on a bluish tint in the afternoon sun. Weedy brown grasses grew wild, obscuring the soil and any critters that might live there. In between were large patches of reddish dirt.
Stepping around a rock, she continued along for a short distance before coming to a broken-down wagon that decorated the side of the road. Further along appeared to be a parking area, because a glint of metal hit her eyes. Sure enough, this must be where the staff brought in supplies for the outdoor barbecue dinners. A side road must cut between the areas. Guests could walk from the ranch down the other road.
But who was that up ahead? She paused next to a hedgehog cactus and a branching ocotillo plant. Having to squint to see better through her sunglasses, she wondered if her prescription needed changing. At least she could make out the wiry figure in the cowboy hat talking to another guy. The second fellow handed something to the wrangler she recognized as Kevin Franks. He stuck the item in his pocket.
Wait, was that Matthew Brigham, the engineer from town? What was he doing way out here? Marla hadn’t realized the two men were acquainted.
“Hey, fellows,” she called, waggling her fingers in the air.
They glanced at her in unison, exchanged a few more words, and then scattered. Brigham jumped into his car, while Franks disappeared into a thicket of vegetation. Moments later, she leapt out of the way as Brigham’s car zoomed past.
When she’d recovered her wits and the dust cleared, she spied Franks galloping away on a horse that he must have had tethered nearby. Why had they reacted as though spooked instead of offering her a friendly greeting and asking if she’d gotten lost? And who had that woman been on the trail? Had it been an apparition directing her there? If so, for what reason? To catch these guys meeting together for some clandestine purpose? From the way they’d taken off at her arrival, it certainly appeared as though they’d wished to avoid recognition.
Pondering these issues, she trudged back toward the main road. She’d reached the front stoop of her hacienda when her cell phone rang.
“Annie, is that you? What’s up?” she said upon noting the caller I.D.
“I have news,” the younger woman stated in a breathless tone. “Eleanor Reardon contacted me.”
“What?” Marla pressed the phone tighter against her ear.
“She’s all right, and Christine is with her. Mrs. Reardon wanted to apologize for missing our appointment. Can you imagine? The poor woman said she’d spoken to the police. Somebody had called her the morning of her husband’s death and warned her to leave the house along with her daughter.”
“Why would she obey without telling anyone? Did she know who it was?”
“No, she didn’t recognize the man’s voice, and her cell said unknown caller.”
“That’s odd.”
“The person said if she told Tate or anyone else, he’d reveal what he knew about her.”
“And what was that?”
“She’d been having an affair with Garrett Long.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
* * *
“Tate Reardon’s wife was having an affair with the forest ranger?” Standing in the middle of their hacienda, Dalton stared at her incredulously. He had returned from his consultation with Wayne, and she’d burst out with her news before giving him a chance to speak. “I wonder if the sheriff knows.”
“I’d bet he does. Do you think this is what the psychic meant about looking closer to home? Sheriff Beresby did say he was checking into the personal angle regarding Garrett’s death. That would include family members and close associates.”
“But how did the woman even meet Garrett Long?”
“Tate worked long hours at the water bottling plant. Perhaps his wife was lonely and ran into Garrett in town. Or maybe she visited the nature center and took a fancy to him there.”
Dalton scraped stiff fingers through his hair. “This development puts a whole new spin on things.”
“Do you believe the same person who killed Garrett also murdered Mr. Reardon?”
“The sheriff ascribes his death to a gas leak.”
“Yes, it was a convenient accident, same as Garrett Long falling off a ledge in a place where every rock must have been known to him.” They locked gazes. “Garrett was married, wasn’t he? We haven’t heard much about his wife. Sherry, isn’t it? If she’d known about her husband’s illicit affair, she would have a motive to get rid of them both.”
Dalton’s brows knitted together. “That doesn’t make sense. I could see her eliminating her wandering spouse, but why kill Tate Reardon instead of Eleanor?”
“Yes, I see your point. And it would have to be a separate issue from the problems at the dude ranch and the ghost town. There’s still something we’re missing.” Her face brightened. “Guess who I just saw together? I spotted Kevin the wrangler talking to Matthew Brigham.”
“And who is he again?”
“He’s the district engineer responsible for the inspections at the bottling plant. Brigham handed Kevin something, but I couldn’t see what it was. The men split when they noticed me. They met on a side road for staff only.”
“Interesting, but I’m more concerned about Wayne. He and Uncle Ray are going to pay Donovan a visit to see what the man knows about the copper mine. If you want to come along, get your things. I’m joining them to make sure tempers don’t escalate.”
“I wouldn’t miss this chance to meet the guy, although Jesse says he’s not to blame for the incidents here. I caught up to Juanita, the housekeeper. She said Jesse needs proof for his theories before he’ll tell anyone about them.”
“Theories about what?”
She shrugged. “Who wired the trail where Carol rides every day, perhaps, and the other acts of sabotage around the ranch.”
Dalton’s lips pressed together. “I wish the sheriff would tell us what he knows. It’s so frustrating not being included. I can’t help my cousin with only partial knowledge.”
Stepping forward, she rubbed his arm. “You’re doing your best. We’ll get to the bottom of this. Maybe Hugh Donovan will shed light on things.”
She ran into the bathroom, fixed her hair and makeup, and hastened outside to join her husband. Raymond had arrived by the time they returned to the lobby. Wayne sat them all inside his four-wheel drive SUV, and they tore off down the road.
A half hour later, Marla studied the view as they approached the Donovan ranch. Shady trees and strategically placed cacti adorned
the granite chip landscape in front of the main house. Beyond stretched a series of corrals and occasional outbuildings.
When ringing the doorbell brought no answer, Raymond indicated the fenced enclosures. “Hugh must be out in the field.”
Wayne shaded his eyes with a hand. “Somebody’s coming. They must have spotted us.”
A couple of men trotted over on horseback and dismounted. The younger guy’s profile seemed familiar, but the older man attracted Marla’s attention. His folded brows and tense mouth didn’t bode well for their visit. While the other fellow tended to the horses, this one strode over, a camel-colored cowboy hat on his head and knee-high leather boots on his feet.
“What are you doing here, Raymond?”
“I came to tell you to stop harassing me, Hugh.” Raymond’s voice rang out loud and clear, piercing the air like a rifle shot on a quiet day.
The two elders sized each other up. Hugh had aged better than Raymond, Marla concluded. His skin didn’t show the ravages of time same as Dalton’s uncle, although they had to be close in age. Something that looked like regret flared in their eyes as they stared each other down like two gunslingers at an Old West battle. These men had been friends before tragedy tore them apart. Did they yearn for forgiveness? Or were they so accustomed to casting blame on each other that an avalanche couldn’t move them?
Hugh jabbed a finger at his visitor. “You have nerve to come here, where my stock is suffering because of your actions, and you tell me to back off?”
“Stop these pranks before someone else gets seriously hurt.”
“I have no idea what you mean.”
“We have a saboteur on our ranch and at my project. Likely they’re working for you to undermine my properties.”
“You’re insane. I could say the same for you. Did you sneak somebody in here to poison our feed? Is it your intent to kill off my cattle?”
“Hey, guys, let’s be rational about this.” Wayne raised his hand in a stop sign. He glanced at the younger man whose features puzzled Marla.
Peril by Ponytail (A Bad Hair Day Mystery) Page 18