Trouble at the Red Pueblo

by Liz Adair

“South. Why?”

  “Um, I think I’d like to go there.”

  Spider shot her a quizzical look. “Whatever for?”

  “I’ll tell you when we get there. There’s something I want to show you.”

  Spider moved over to the right lane. “They won’t let us in the house. Probably not even the yard. It’s a crime scene.”

  She raised her hand in a dismissive gesture. “It’s not near the house. I’ll show you when we get there.”

  Spider glanced at Laurie. She leaned her head against the window, the soft-drink straw in her mouth. But she wasn’t drinking. She was staring straight ahead.

  It didn’t take long to come to the off-ramp, and they soon passed through the intersection they had been watching all morning. “You just had your picture took,” Spider commented. He was rewarded with a faint smile from Laurie.

  The gatehouse was uninhabited, so they drove up to the top of the mesa without stopping. When they turned onto Acacia Street, Laurie sat up and pointed. “Pull over where you parked yesterday.”

  Spider did as he was directed. “Okay. What do you want to show me?”

  “We have to get out.” Laurie opened her door.

  Mystified, Spider turned off the ignition and climbed out of the cab. Laurie waited for him to join her, and he followed her across the vacant lot toward the edge of the mesa, repressing the urge to ask again what she had to show him.

  She led him to the beginning of the primitive road that dropped down the slope to the bottom. “Notice anything?” she asked.

  Spider stood with his hands on his hips and examined the lane. Not quite wide enough for a sedan to negotiate comfortably, it had obviously been used by dirt bikes and ATVs. Made mostly of clay soil, the grade was steep, and at one place rain had washed away part of the far edge. At the bottom, the track cut across a vacant field to an electrical substation sitting a couple hundred feet away from a paved road. Spider turned to Laurie and shrugged. “It’s a way to get off the mesa. It’d be hard in a sedan, but not impossible.”

  “Well, that, too. But look here.” She pointed to horse tracks coming up the road to the place where a scrub juniper grew at the top. “I noticed these when I was checking for a bush I could use yesterday. Something about them didn’t register until we were watching the video this morning.”

  Spider hunkered down and traced around one of the horseshoe prints. “You mean it registered when you saw Jack’s horse trailer?”

  Laurie squatted beside him. “Yeah. That’s Taffy’s hoofprint. I’m sure of it.”

  “Huh.” Spider stared at the track, his mind working. “What makes you so sure?”

  “It’s the special shoes that Jack’s farrier uses.” She pointed to two places on the imprint. “The nail holes are placed differently from a regular shoe.”

  “So you’re saying this is Taffy?”

  Laurie sighed. “I’d stake my life on it.”

  Spider stood and offered his hand to help Laurie up. Neither spoke, and when Spider walked away from the tree, eyes on the ground, Laurie followed.

  “I don’t see any boot tracks,” Spider said.

  “There’s one heel mark here,” Laurie said, pointing to it. “Up there on top, the soil’s sandier. You sink in farther, and the top falls in on it. It doesn’t keep a print.”

  Head down, Spider scanned the area around the tree. “Here’s one that isn’t too bad.”

  Laurie examined the print. “What size would you say that was? Man or woman?”

  “Hard to say. It looks like the boot slid in the track. You think it could have been Amy?”

  “I have a hard time thinking it could be Jack. Except—” She got a stricken look on her face. “Oh, dear.”

  “That sounds bad.”

  She sank to the ground in the shade of the tree and hugged her knees. “I think it may be.”

  “You’ll get your bottom all dusty,” Spider warned, hunkering down beside her.

  “In the great scheme of things, a dusty bottom is nothing.” She patted the place beside her. “Sit down. I’ve got something to tell you.”

  Spider was tempted to make a joke about Laurie wanting the chance to dust off his rear end, but the look on her face stopped him. He sat with boot heels dug into the dirt and knees slightly bent. “Okay. Shoot.”

  “It’s about Jack.” She picked up a stick and started drawing circles in the area between them. “I don’t know if you remember that day we had lunch at his place.”

  Again Spider suppressed a flippant reply. Of course he remembered. It was a terrible, heart-wrenching day for him, the day he caught his wife in the arms of another man. “I remember,” he said.

  “Well, we rode around to Goblin Valley. There’s a small cave there with a spring in it where white salamanders live. We got off the horses and were walking to where the cave was, and he got real dizzy. I had to hold him up— it seemed like forever. He wouldn’t let me help him sit down. Said he was like an old horse. He had to stay on his feet or he’d die.”

  The sun went behind a cloud, and Laurie paused to look at the sky. A breeze sprang up, blowing her hair away from her face. She ran her hands through it and then continued her narrative.

  “After a while he got over the dizzy spell. We gave up on the cave and went and got our horses. I had to give him a boost up on his horse, but he was able to ride home. On the way, he told me that he had cancer three years ago. They treated him but said he could expect it to come galloping back some day. He thought maybe that was the day.”

  “Was that why he didn’t go riding with you?”

  Laurie nodded. “He went to St. George to the clinic.”

  “Huh. I saw him that day. He was pulling out of the parking lot where Austin has his office.”

  Laurie grimaced. “That doesn’t look good. He told me, when we were rehearsing for Western Legends, that the doctor gave him six weeks or less.” She paused, looking up as the iron-gray clouds bulldozed in front of the sun. “He said he was busy getting loose ends tied up. Said he wanted things to be better for people after he was gone.”

  “Farewell to red rock arches, farewell to wonderstone,” Spider murmured.

  “Yeah.” A tear slid down Laurie’s cheek.

  Spider put his arm around her.

  She sniffed. “That’s why it’s been so hard to have you sniping at him all the time.”

  “Well, it looked to me like he was in love with you, and that day it looked like you might be leaning toward reciprocating.”

  Laurie’s eyes widened and she pulled away. “Spider! How could you think that?”

  “Last week, when Karam and I were up on the mesa, I saw you down there in a long embrace. How was I to know he was feeling poorly at the moment? He’s always trying to sneak an arm around you.”

  “That’s just his way. He honestly loves people but not in that way. He’s never been interested in girls.”

  “Great suffering zot, do you mean he’s gay?”

  “No. Maybe. I don’t know. He told me when we were teenagers that he would never marry. Said he didn’t feel for girls what he thought he was supposed to. I think he loved me because it didn’t change the way I thought about him.”

  “Well, that sure puts a new face on everything.”

  “That’s what I mean. You’ve been so jealous you couldn’t see what a good man he is. He’s dying, and he’s trying to make things better for other people.”

  Spider cleared his throat. “That sounds really great until you think of what happened in that house over yonder.”

  “I can’t believe that he did it.”

  “Even in the face of that?” Spider indicated the tracks with his thumb.

  Laurie was silent for a moment, and then she nodded. “Yes. Even in the face of that. I think Jack doesn’t have the capacity.”

  Spider smoothed out the dirt, erasing the circles Laurie had drawn. “Have you remembered that there are two horses with misshapen hoofs?”

  “Do you think
I haven’t been thinking about that? But it won’t work. Dorrie’s farrier modified regular shoes, just like our man did. I saw the tracks just last week. They’re not the same.”

  “So, we’re back to Amy.”

  “Aggh! How do you deal with this kind of stuff all the time?” Laurie got to her feet and brushed off her pant legs.

  “Give me a hand.” Spider reached up, so Laurie could help him stand. “I don’t often meet this kind of a situation, either.”

  “Well, I’ve told you what I know. It’s yours to deal with. I’m not going to think about it anymore.”

  Spider looked at the sky. “What if it rains tonight?”

  Laurie’s auburn hair cascaded down her back as she looked up, too. “It would destroy the evidence. I think I’ll pray for rain.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking.”

  “You’re going to pray, too?”

  Spider smiled. “No. I’m going to preserve the evidence. Come on. Where can we get some plaster of Paris?”

  SPIDER AND LAURIE were having a silent breakfast at Parry Lodge the next morning. He wore sunglasses at the table, so the public didn’t have to look at the bruising around his eyes. When his phone rang, he raised them to read the ID of the caller and answered, “Hi, Martin.”

  Laurie looked up from the French toast she’d been pushing around her plate.

  Spider frowned as he listened. “Do you think you’d better have a lawyer there when they come?” He listened, looked at his watch, and said, “We’ll be there.”

  “What is it?” she asked when he stowed his phone in his pocket.

  Spider smeared some jam on his toast. “Martin says Toby’s on his way to the museum. Says he wants to talk to everyone there. He’s bringing a St. George policeman and the Fredonia Marshal. It’s going to be Cop City at the Red Pueblo.”

  “Why did you suggest he have a lawyer?”

  “Because Toby’s hot on the trail of arresting Matt, and possibly Linda too, for Austin’s murder.”

  “How do you know that?”

  Spider didn’t answer. He took a bite of toast and gave a half smile as he chewed.

  “Okay,” she said. “I know the answer to that. We all saw Matt heading to Austin’s house. What did Martin say? About the lawyer?”

  “He didn’t see the need, and besides, he says he can’t afford one.” Spider pointed his fork at her plate. “You haven’t eaten a bite.”

  “I’m not hungry. I’ve been all tied up in knots ever since yesterday afternoon.” She set her fork on her plate. “Do you really think Toby will arrest Matt on the strength of the video footage?”

  Spider shrugged. “Maybe the forensic team found something at the house.”

  “If Matt did it, that means that Jack didn’t, and that’s good,” Laurie said. “But I can’t believe that Matt had anything to do with it, either.”

  “Well, we’ll know what Toby knows in just a bit. Want to head on down, since all you’re going to do is worry that French toast to death?”

  Laurie smiled and laid her napkin beside her plate. “Yes. Let’s go. Do you think you need to prepare them, just in case?”

  “I don’t think they need preparing. I think they’ve been on edge about what Matt’s volatile temper might cause him to do.”

  Laurie stood. “Do you think Matt did it?”

  Spider picked up his hat and stood as well. “Don’t look so hopeful, Darlin’. I don’t think anything yet. Like Toby Flint, I’m keeping an open mind.”

  Half an hour later, they pulled into the Red Pueblo parking lot. Linda’s SUV was missing, but everyone else seemed to be clustered in the lobby, watching Spider and Laurie walk up the sidewalk.

  They all offered a subdued greeting as Spider pushed open the entrance door. Matt, who had been squatting down, arranging things in the bottom of the glass display case, stood. He closed the case and locked it, pocketing the key. “Mornin’, Spider.” He cleared his throat. “I wonder, would you come out into the yard for a minute? I’d like to talk to you.”

  Spider briefly met Laurie’s troubled eyes. He saw the same fearful look mirrored in Neva’s and LaJean’s eyes. “Sure, Matt,” he said. He walked to the side door and held it open for the younger Taylor.

  By silent accord, they walked past the log cabin to the timber drill rig. Matt sat down on the cross beam, and Spider rested a boot on a horizontal wheel spoke. “Whatcha got on your mind?” he asked.

  Matt cleared his throat. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you. I had a talk with Tiffany.”

  “Oh? How’d it go?”

  Matt spoke through clenched teeth.“I’m not good at stuff like that. I didn’t know what to say.” He reached down and picked up a rock. “I was going to have to call her a liar. That’s a hard thing to do.”

  “But, how did it go?”

  Matt balled the rock in his fist. “She did most of the talking. Said she wanted to help so bad that the promise just came out. She didn’t mean to lie.”

  “Do you believe her?”

  Matt dropped the rock. “Almost.” He turned and squinted into the sun as a St. George police cruiser pulled into the parking lot followed by the Fredonia marshal’s rig. “They’re here.”

  “Yeah, we’ll go see them in a minute. So, what’s Tiffany going to do?”

  Matt looked down as he ground a boot heel into the soil. “She says she’s going to travel on. She mentioned St. George and asked about Austin Lee, about whether he was still interested in Linda.”

  “You didn’t tell her he was dead?” Dang, why hadn’t he watched the stop light footage better? Did they miss a red BMW convertible?

  “I talked to her on Saturday morning. He wasn’t dead then.”

  “Huh.” Spider rubbed his jaw and looked at the toe of his boot. Where did this new bit of information fit into the puzzle?

  “There’s Isaac, waving us in.” Matt wiped the dust from his hands onto his pant legs.

  Spider looked up to see the older man in the parking lot, limping toward the entrance. “Looks like he’s closed the gate, so we won’t be disturbed.” Spider began walking with Matt across the Heritage Yard. “I asked your dad if he didn’t think you all should have a lawyer present. He said no.”

  “I agree,” Matt said. “We’ve got nothing to hide.”

  “I wish you thought differently about that, but there you go.” Spider held the side door open for Matt to precede him into the lobby.

  The three officers of the law turned their heads in unison at their approach. Toby was again shined and creased, standing with his thumbs inside his glossy black leather duty belt. Next to him stood Sergeant Whipple, a tall, thin, uniformed officer from St. George that Spider remembered being introduced to at the crime scene. The third man was middle aged with thinning hair, a wiry build, and a hawk nose. He wore a blue uniform, and Toby introduced him as Marshal Thayne.

  Spider stood by Matt. He took off his hat and nodded a greeting as each officer was introduced.

  Sergeant Whipple murmured something to Toby, who said, “Could you remove your sunglasses, please, Mr. Latham?”

  As Spider took them off, Toby took a step back. “Oh, geez! I forgot about the black eyes. Sorry, Spider. Geez. Put ‘em back on.”

  “No, that’s fine.” Spider parked the glasses on top of his head. “I’m more comfortable without them.” He looked around. “So, how long is this going to take? Do we need to find a place for people to sit? We need chairs for Isaac and LaJean at least.”

  “And my parents,” Matt added. “I’ll get chairs out of the office.”

  Marshal Thayne silently followed him and helped carry chairs from the office into the lobby. He wheeled the office chair in and placed it beside the others Matt had lined up, He gestured for Laurie to sit, then stood at the back of the room with his hands clasped behind him.

  Spider set his hat on the glass display case and joined the rest of the museum personnel, leaning a shoulder against the archway that divided the exhibit r
oom from the lobby. He tried not to smile, watching Toby’s discomfort as he operated under the gaze of the metropolitan policeman.

  Deputy Flint pulled his notebook from his pocket. “Though Sergeant Whipple is senior to me, since I’m a reserve officer in the Coconino County Sheriff’s Office and thus am certified to work here in Fredonia, I’m taking charge of this— we’ll call it a meeting, for now.” He glanced at the silent, uniformed man at the back of the room. “We’ve asked Marshal Thayne to be here as a courtesy, to keep him in the loop.”

  The deputy’s gaze swept the room. Nobody spoke.

  “Right.” Toby took out his pen and clicked the point down. “Pushing on, I guess you all know that Austin Lee was murdered last Sunday. He was beaten to death with a blunt instrument. We’re checking on people who had a beef with him—”

  “Of whom there are many,” Spider murmured.

  Toby shot a glance at Spider but went on. “—who had a beef with him who were in the vicinity on that day.” He blinked and looked around the room again. “Where is Linda Russell?”

  “She’s not here,” Neva said.

  Toby clicked his pen several times. “Why not? I specifically asked that she be here.”

  Neva shrugged. “I called her cell phone and left a message. That was the best I could do on short notice.”

  Toby stood still, his thumb furiously working the button on his pen. He shot a look at Sergeant Whipple. “Right. We’ll talk with her separately, I guess. Okay. Austin Lee. I understand that he had been causing the museum some trouble?”

  The statement hung as an interrogatory, but no one volunteered to tackle answering it. They all stared with blank faces at the deputy.

  Finally Matt, who had one hip perched on the guest book table, stood. “What do you want us to say? You know what he was up to. Do you also know that his fraudulent lawsuits, his greed for land, especially land that had been extorted from families who had held it for over a hundred years, his weaseling and sliming around, forcing people against their will—” Matt stopped. He cleared his throat and started again. “He put my father in the hospital. Do you have that in your notebook?”

  Toby clicked his pen. “No. When was this?”