Death at the Bar X Ranch

by Marlene Chabot

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good because it was bad enough when we had two horses show up on Clint Russell’s property. Yesterday’s makes three.”

  Even though my toes felt like they were being squeezed into pretzels and I really wanted to chuck this whole horse sleuthing thing, I tried to exude confidence all around when I said, “I plan to patrol the parameters of your sixty acres until late tonight.”

  Reed let out a loud snort. “Ma’am, that ain’t going to cut it.”

  I moved back a couple steps now, unsure what to say next. “It won’t?”

  “Heck no. You gotta take the bull by the horns—get to know my workers and the people who trust me with their horses. See if I’m reading someone wrong.” My client rubbed the broad jaw connected to his oval face. “I used to pride myself on how well I deciphered people’s inner tickings, but since this horse stuff all started I’m beginning to doubt myself.”

  Aunt Zoe really had it bad for the man. When she thoughtlessly reached out towards Reed’s arm, I hastily stopped her by clearing my throat. “Ahem.” Her hand immediately shot to her side.

  Of course, just because I stopped my aunt from reacting a particular way to our client didn’t mean she couldn’t dig out another from her repertoire. And she did just that. She began batting her thickly doctored eyelashes. “Reed, don’t fret. Mary and I are both committed to doing whatever it takes to clear your problem up, aren’t we, Mary?”

  “You bet,” reluctantly tumbled from my mouth.

  “Oh, Miss Zoe,” Reed said, “I’m sorry if you misunderstood me. I didn’t mean for you to work in the barn. Why, you’re just a secretary.”

  She immediately gave the man a questioning stare.

  Poor Reed. He became tongue-tied. “That is, unless you prefer to be in there.”

  “No, no. I can be as flexible as you want me to be. Where would you like me to help out?”

  How lucky could she be? I’d give my next year’s paycheck to stay away from the horses. Of course, I didn’t even know if I’d have a job next year let alone a paycheck. Hmm? Well, maybe all the horses would be out in the pasture. Yeah, right.

  Reed kicked up some dirt with his boot and then tugged on the visor of his cap. The man was stalling. Probably didn’t have a clue what my aunt could do. “Well, let’s see. I think there’s plenty of paperwork to be filed and phone calls to be made. And the cook can always use extra hands in the kitchen.”

  Before I could make a smart remark about Aunt Zoe’s kitchen attributes, she kindly offered to help with the office work. Good choice, I thought. At least she can’t poison anyone.

  “All right then,” I said stalling as long as I could. “I’ll just mosey over to the barn and get started. Remember, Zoe, I’m within earshot if you need anything.” Hint. Hint.

  My aunt took a while to respond. It appears my client had helped keep her mind off Edward as well as me. Nothing else seemed to matter when he was around. It was like he’d cast a spell on her. “Yeah. Okay,” she finally replied. “See you at lunch if not before.”

  My jean-covered legs switched gears now as they slowly began to maneuver their way towards the entrance to the barn. When I was about halfway there, Reed’s voice rang out. Maybe he had something important to share. I quickly tilted my head in his direction. “Yes?”

  “Nice pair of boots, Mary.”

  Yuk. Why couldn’t I have been born an ostrich, so I could bury my head?

  Chapter 16

  The intense concoction of hay, manure, and wet sawdust wrapped its tentacles around me so tightly the minute I swept through the barn door, I thought I was going to lose my breakfast. Ish! I would’ve never agreed to return to the Bar X if it had smelled this badly the first time around. Flee now, Mary, while you can. “No way. I’m not going to have it bantered about that I’m a bona fide wimp.”

  I bent over and inhaled deeply. Stupid move. The mixture of delicious barn odors immediately latched on to my respiratory system and hung on for the ride of its life. Crap. Another thing to be concerned about. Toughen up. You don’t have any other choice. Okay, okay. I pulled my body to full height and surveyed the surroundings like any brave soldier would.

  Unfortunately, I discovered I had made another dumb decision, and acting like a soldier wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Twenty pairs of huge, soulful eyes bore into me. The scene should have invoked laughter, but all it did was scare me down to my undies. Don’t forget there’s more than one way to lick a problem, Mary. Ah, yes. Confrontation. “One of you ate Fiona’s steering wheel,” I boldly proclaimed as my eyes swiftly bounced from one horse to the next, returning just as scary a look. “And when I figure out who did the nasty deed, you’ll be in trouble up to your eyeballs.”

  Determination of the guilty party was cut to the quick by a sharp masculine voice. “Are you here for a ride, Miss?”

  My head snapped to attention. “Huh?” The fellow gaining on me was short in stature and carried a medium-sized belly. “Ah, no. Mr. Griffin said I should report to someone here in the barn.”

  A heavy head of rusty-colored hair and scruffy matching beard bobbed along as the man examined me from head to toe. “That would be me. So, you’re my sidekick for the day,” he muttered under his breath. “I wasn’t expecting a woman.”

  “Is that going to be a problem?” I inquired cautiously.

  He flipped a hand in the air. “Nah. Not with me.” The man who appeared to be around my brother Matt’s age—mid-forties—wiped the same thick, sweaty textured hand on his jeans and offered it to me. “I’m Terrence. People call me Terry.”

  “I’m just Mary.”

  Terry barely grinned. “Well, that’s short enough to remember. Welcome aboard, Mary.”

  “Thanks,” I said weakly.

  The man went on now. “Before Reed told me I was getting some help, I thought I’d have to do double duty with Jackson out sick.”

  “What all needs to get done?” I asked, hoping I wouldn’t be in the barn too long, so I could get on with what I originally came here to do.

  “Gotta clean the stalls, fill the water troughs, check the feed and do some grooming.” The man looked at my feet one more time. “I see you wore the right footwear for the work. You never know what you might step in.”

  Clean the stalls? Groom the horses? I took a couple steps back. I didn’t sign up for this. There’s no way I was getting up close and personal with any horse. No. No. No. Absolutely not. You don’t have any say in the matter, Mary. You wanna bet? I can walk out of here just like that. Go ahead. Try. My legs stiffened. I was beaten to a pulp, and I knew it. “Ah, is there a certain time the stalls have to be cleaned out by?” I asked wearily. If the crud in the stalls just gets swept out the door, it shouldn’t take too long, I thought.

  Terry let go of a belly laugh. “Kinda. We’ll do half now, take a break and then finish up.”

  I rubbed my hands together but didn’t move an inch. How could I? There was no broom leaning against a wall, and Terry never said what to do with the stuff I removed from the stall or the horses for that matter.

  My so-called supervisor studied my face for a second. He probably was cussing under his breath the fact that he got stuck with a dumb broad like me. I thought about blowing my cover, but I didn’t have to. “You look like you’ve got questions swimming around in that pretty head of yours. Why don’t you spit ’em out?”

  “Sorry. I was just wondering if the horses get upset when we’re disturbing their domain?”

  Terry let loose with a deep throaty laugh this time. “You’re new at this, aren’t you?”

  I shifted my focus to the hard dirt-packed ground under my feet. “Am I that transparent?”

  “’Fraid so, but don’t worry none, Miss. I won’t have you canned cuz you’re a greenhorn. A lot of folks are taking on whatever w
ork they can find nowadays, including some of my own siblings.”

  Even though this dude’s kindness seemed to be genuine, I had to wonder if it was meant to throw me off balance. I lifted my head and flashed a smile. “Thanks. I really do need the income.” At least no one could ever fault me for that line. I was in desperate need of money. “So, what about the horses, Terry? Do they get riled up when someone’s messing around in their stall?”

  “Nah.” He pointed over his shoulder towards the field now. “See that group of horses out in the pasture?” I nodded. “Well, they’ll graze there until you’re done cleaning their stalls.”

  “Oh?”

  *****

  “Beep, beep.” Yippy. The tiny gizmo hidden in my pocket was about to give me a break, something I’ve desperately wished for the past three hours while pitching and hauling manure and soiled sawdust to a stinky compost pile surrounded by thousands of flies. “Beep, beep.” I hurriedly rubbed the grit from my filthy, blistered hands onto my jeans before retrieving the phone from my side pocket.

  “Buongiorno! Have I caught you at a bad time?”

  “Sort of,” I said in a library setting voice, “but that’s okay.” Now I took a quick scan of my surroundings. Terry wasn’t visible. Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen him since he directed me to the stalls when I first got here. Probably safe to talk, I thought. “Is everything okay, Mrs. Grimshaw? Gracie’s not causing trouble is she?”

  “Oh, no,” the elderly woman readily replied. “I was just curious to know what Mr. Griffin said regarding my suggestion this morning.”

  “I haven’t asked yet. Been too caught up in other things.” Like tripping over the darn plastic clean up rake because I forgot where I laid it and getting soaked from juggling water pails to and fro, but she didn’t need to know that. No one did.

  “That’s all right. I understand. I’ve also been giving Zoe’s bad batch of fudge some thought and came up with a couple ideas for you. I hate to see chocolate go to waste.”

  “Great.” I just knew Mrs. Grimshaw would have a solution. “What can I do?”

  “Well, you can mix it with cookie dough or put it on vanilla ice cream.”

  Fudge-topped ice cream. “Sounds yummy.” I wish I didn’t have to wait to indulge. My stomach groaned right on cue as if to acknowledge it agreed with me. Half expecting Terry to reappear any moment, I kept a watchful eye on the barn door while my caller continued to speak.

  “Mary, tell me what you were referring to earlier.”

  I scratched my head trying to remember what I said to Margaret when she first called. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

  “Being caught up in other things. Did you mean digging up stuff concerning your case?”

  Oh, Yeah. I’ve been digging up plenty all right. The darn stuff’s been dropping around me like flies. “Not really. Maybe Aunt Zoe has. She’s off flirting with our client.”

  Margaret giggled. “Good for her. So, you’re just sitting in Matt’s car keeping an eye on the property?”

  “I wish.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m, ah, not in the car. One of Reed’s employees has me changing bedding.”

  Margaret’s tone got serious now. “Non capisco! What does changing sheets have to do with the horses on Griffin’s property, Mary?”

  I chuckled. Life would be so much simpler if I was actually doing what the elderly woman thought I was doing. “I’m not changing sheets.”

  “You’re not? But you just said . . .”

  “I was referring to animal bedding.”

  “Ah? Like straw and wood chips?”

  “Yup. You wouldn’t believe how much these animals pee and poop, especially the mares.”

  Margaret’s voice rose a notch. “You’re working with the horses? But the other day you told me you didn’t think it was necessary to be around them.”

  I rubbed my chin. “It’s a little hard not to when the guy who’s hired you assigns you the task.”

  “Didn’t you explain your plan?”

  Someone waltzed through the door and was closing in on me rapidly. It had to be Terry. Luckily my back was to him. I stooped down and whispered into the phone, “If I don’t go along with him, he might hire a new sleuth.”

  “Oh? Well, I better let you get back to work then. Buona fortuna.”

  I stood, said “Thanks,” and then hastily stashed the phone. Someone was directly behind me.

  “So are you ready for a break, little lady?” Terry inquired.

  My stomach rumbled again. “Does that answer your question?”

  “I guess.” He pointed to my pant pocket now. “I noticed you had your cell phone out. Were you making a call?”

  Shoot. This guy doesn’t miss a beat. “No. My mother was checking on me,” I lied. “I told her I was working and would have to talk to her tonight.”

  The man in charge of me became quite ornery after my explana­tion. I didn’t expect it. Perhaps he didn’t buy my lie. “Look, we can’t afford to be talking during work hours, so if you plan to stay here a while, make sure you and your mother understands that.”

  Whew! From angel to devil in two seconds flat. I was going to have to be mighty careful around this guy. “Yes, sir.”

  Chapter 17

  Aunt Zoe thrust herself upon me the instant I entered Reed Griffin’s ranch-style house. “Mary,” she wailed, “what have you done to yourself?” Before I had the chance to spit out a reply, she tossed me aside like a worn-out shoe. The strong odor seeping from my clothes probably caused the rift. I had noted her nose was slightly turned up when she stepped back.

  While I remained glued to my spot, my roommate reached in her pant pocket and produced one of her many Avon perfume samples, which she tossed my way. “Here. Take this. It might help, but you’re on your own with that atrocious hairdo.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You look like the scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz.”

  Don’t panic, Mary. Maybe it’s not as bad as she thinks. My hands immediately shot to the thick straight cropped hair that hung loosely over my ears. Yuk. had unknowingly added sawdust and straw to my locks. The only female remedy for my dire problem was a trip to the nearest powder room. Too bad I required something more before I bolted like a colt. I hastily pointed to a hot-pink-and-purple-splotched purse, the size of a kitchen sink, resting on the cream-color Formica counter by the fridge. The purse belonged to my aunt and usually held anything one needed in a crunch. “Do you happen to have some aspirin stashed in there? My back’s killing me.”

  “Sure thing, sweetie,” and then she dashed to her purse and got what I requested.

  I took the small Bayer bottle from her. “Thanks. I’ll be back in a jiff.” Of course, jiff had a different connotation today. It meant as fast as I could go while dragging an aching body to and fro. If cartwheels had gotten me to the nearest bathroom any faster, I would’ve done that instead. But, then again, maybe not. This thirty-something body of mine hadn’t done cartwheels since entering puberty. Besides, who in her right mind did cartwheels when her back was on fire.

  The three-quarter bath, set off from the kitchen by only mere inches, offered just what I needed: water to wash down the pills and a plain, medium-sized black-metal framed mirror to check out my “A-hem” unique hairdo.

  Auntie’s comment, along with what my hands touched, should’ve been sufficient warning for what I’d discover once I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror, but it wasn’t. My hairdo was so scary I almost jumped out of my skin. “Holy cow!” Good thing no single men my age were lurking in the kitchen when I had walked through. They would’ve thought the Bride of Frankenstein had come home to roost.

  I tossed the aspirins in my mouth and hurriedly washed them down. On to the hair. Without a
beautician standing by giving advice, I’d have to rely on myself to correct the mess. I thrust my hands in my pockets. No comb. No problem. I spread my fingers apart as far as they would go and ran them through my hair several times. Afterwards, I glanced at the wood floor. A pool of sawdust and straw formed a close-knit circle, similar to wagon trains preparing for attack.

  Great. How do I get rid of that much fallout? I looked down at my boots. They’d work. I swept the mess over to the wastebasket and picked up the container where I planned to hide it. There was a tiny, square shiny object lying on the floor. Not knowing if it was important or not, I stashed it in my jean pocket thinking I’d ask about it later.

  When I rejoined the others at the well-worn oak table, they had already been sampling the humongous sugar cookies and strong brewed coffee. My lips trembled. Look out hips. Make way for the treats.

  Barely ten minutes into my break, Terry jumped up from his seat and threw a serious glance my way indicating he was done. I shot a quick look at my first cup of coffee. Only half empty. Apparently a horse boarding facility doesn’t allow for idle chit chat, only enough time to stuff a cookie down one’s belly and to scorch one’s lips with a single cup of java. “Ready to get back in the saddle, Slim?”

  I would’ve loved to have said, “Are you crazy?” but I desperately needed the job. Being called Slim was a different story. The man will never know how much I appreciated it. Too bad it wasn’t true. I’d never had an hourglass figure and probably never would. That wasn’t to say I’d stop trying. There was always a new diet fad ad to catch my interest. As a matter of fact, just the other day I’d read about one called the Belly Fat Diet. I forced a smile now, and said, “Yup.”

  Taking her cue from me about getting back to work, Aunt Zoe immediately stood and began to clear the table. “Don’t work too hard, you two.”