Death at the Bar X Ranch

by Marlene Chabot

  It didn’t, but if she felt better thinking my ruffled feathers concerned her and Reed, so be it. I gave her my best imitation of a smile.

  Chapter 23

  The Next Day

  All day, something concerning horses niggled at the outer fringes of my brain. I tried everything I could think of to jar it loose, including parading around the block ten times with Gracie in sweltering heat that eventually reached 100 degrees, but I got nowhere. All I could hope for was that it would pop into my head before I was expected to show up at Reed’s. Knowing the way things were running lately, though, it probably wouldn’t happen. I had less than a half hour to go.

  When Aunt Zoe learned Reed was going to be my walkie-talkie buddy tonight, she wasn’t happy, but I didn’t care. I needed a partner I could depend on, not someone asleep at the wheel. I was just lucky my client had mentioned he didn’t require much sleep. Otherwise, I didn’t know who I would’ve dragged into this mess with me, certainly not Mrs. Grimshaw. She was too fragile.

  Of course, communication was only part of my plan for this evening. I was also going to use night vision goggles I found stashed in Matt’s upper kitchen cabinets. Why he stored the goggles there instead of a closet was beyond me. Although, an old boyfriend of mine had told me a really good pair could cost upwards of two thousand dollars. Hmm? Most thieves were looking for drugs and other high-end stuff, and that was usually stashed in closets and medicine cabinets. I guessed it was plausible that the kitchen would be bypassed in the hunt for goods worth anything. On the other hand, if I were a hungry thief, I’d raid the fridge first. You can always think better on a full stomach.

  After speaking with Reed last night, I decided to show up at the Bar X around nine-thirty. Unfortunately, that plan got scratched. My client caught me just as I was preparing to leave the Foley’s underground parking and asked that I arrive a little later. Apparently, a boarded horse was under the weather, so Doc Taylor was dropping by. Too bad my sleuthing antennae weren’t on. I forgot to ask which horse.

  Too lazy to return to the apartment now, I decided to buzz around downtown and see if I had missed any new shops that had cropped up. I might not be able to spend a dime in them, but there was no harm in a gal filing the info away for future reference, right?

  The first thing I caught a glimpse of was a younger man and an older woman linked arm in arm exiting the Local, an Irish pub I’ve frequented with girlfriends from time to time. The food was exceptional, as well as the Jameson and ginger drink they bragged about. Why couldn’t that be me on his arm? Did the woman meet the hunk in the bar or before?

  The lady in question looked like Nat, the cougar who was chewing the fat with George at the Bar X cookout, except tonight George wasn’t anywhere around. Nat, or whoever the woman was, happened to be lighting up the town quite generously with a different fella. You know how sometimes you wished for something, and it happened? Well, I’d swear it did. I wanted to see the man who was with the woman, and behold, he turned towards the street for a split second to light the woman’s cigarette. I’d swear on my Uncle Edward’s grave, although he didn’t have one since he was cremated, the guy looked like Clint Russell. That man could chew me up and spit me out anytime, but he’s not with you, Mary. He’s with her. I don’t care. If it wasn’t so darn hot, I’d put the window down, and then I’d know for sure.

  Just as I was trying to decide whether to tune in or not, someone honked, and I moved forward. Now I’ll never know if it was Clint or not. If it was him, why was he with Nat? Were the two of them up to no good? Maybe Clint was up to his eyeballs in debt and was creating this problem with the horses, so he could sue Reed for tons of money. People had been known to do worse things, but where did Sally fit in? Did she overhear a plot?

  I continued to crawl along for a few more blocks, watching the evening crowd disperse from theaters, restaurants, bars, and other downtown venues before a particular shop caught my eye, and I pulled over to the curbing to gaze at the display windows. Barbara Bridal was offering thirty-percent off their summer collection of wedding gowns. Time stood still as I pictured what I’d look like in each of the four bridal gowns being shown. Of course, every time I rushed to the altar to the waiting groom, I found, to my dismay, the man about to be hitched was faceless.

  What did you expect, Dummy? There’s no man in your life. Right then and there, I begged God to send Prince Charming my way. I had been single long enough. It wasn’t fair. Unfortunately, there was no guy in sight. I wasn’t surprised. I was low on the totem pole when it came to staying connected with God.

  Enough wishful thinking, Mary. I sucked in the air-conditioned air and shifted gears now. “Yikes.” The Topaz’s tiny clock showed my spare time had flown the coop. “I need to get rolling.” Without giving the flowing traffic a second thought, I swung away from the curb and almost got creamed. Crap. I didn’t need another dented car.

  The car coming alongside me quickly swerved to the left, and as it did so the driver sent a generous message my way. “Watch where you’re going, you blankety, blank stupid broad.”

  Anger flared within. No one calls me a stupid broad. Not even my brothers. I flew towards the freeway now and left the downtown hysteria behind.

  *****

  By the time I reached the riding stable, cute-as-a-button Doc Taylor was long gone. That was a downer. I had hoped we’d bump into each other again, so I could gaze into his yummy emerald eyes and thank him for his wonderful bedside manner. Maybe another day. “So, what did Doc have to say?” I asked as soon as I knocked on my client’s back door.

  Reed slipped outside and joined me on the porch. “He thinks Shadow’s lungs may have been irritated by pine sawdust.” Shadow was Reed’s newest boarder. The three-year-old colt was one of two horses owned by Peter Hughes, a Woodbury dentist.

  “But Terry told me sawdust is one of the best bedding materials around.”

  “It is. Occasionally, though, it stirs up problems for an overly sensitive horse.”

  I folded my arms. “And Shadow happens to be one of them.”

  “That’s what Doc figures, and he’s the vet. Now, it’s just a waiting game.” Reed pointed to the barn as he continued to explain things. “I’ve already cleared out what was in Shadow’s stall and replaced it with recycled paper. Tomorrow morning, I’ll make an urgent plea to friends for whatever recycled paper they can spare. That should give me ample time to round some up by other means.”

  “Couldn’t there be another explanation for the respiratory problem? You know, like humans with allergies? For some, it’s perfume, others smoke.”

  “Sure, there’s plenty that can cause lung problems for a horse, but we try to eliminate them one by one.”

  I suddenly remembered something. “How about medium-sized stones in the food?”

  “Are you referring to Cherokee’s feeder?”

  “Yup.”

  Reed tugged on his baseball cap’s visor. “Those stones were added to the feed on purpose. It helps to slow down a horse’s eating and keeps them from getting colic.”

  “Oh, I never thought of that. I guess caring for horses isn’t for everyone, is it?”

  My client silently swiped his head from side to side. “You got that right. You have to be on track day and night if you don’t want to lose even one of those costly creatures. When my wife split,” he said, “she blamed the critters, and rightly so. There’s just no way around it.”

  The lull between spoken words now alerted me to the fact that the night air had cooled off considerably since I’d stepped out of the Topaz. I quickly jammed my hands in my jean pockets. Since Reed had mentioned his wife, I decided to dig a little. I not only wanted to discover what type of person she was, but I hoped to alleviate boyfriend pain for my aunt in the process. If Reed’s wife had a vendetta against him, she could still ruin his business from afar, and Aunt Zoe didn’t ne
ed to get tied up in a stinker of a mess like that. “About your wife.”

  Reed’s gentle voice changed dramatically. “If you don’t mind, I’d prefer not to discuss her tonight.”

  Touchy. Touchy. “Fine, but I want to get back to her in the near future. It’s important.”

  “We’ll see,” Reed fired back as he started up the steps to his house. “Now, get crackin’ and see if you can find out what’s going on in my woods out yonder.”

  “Yes, sir.” I emptied my tote bag of its contents and tossed it on the porch. Then, I hung the strap of the night goggles around my neck and clicked the walkie-talkie on. Ready for another night in the woods with the mosquitoes now, I left a brief parting message for my client. “Set your digital camera aside for me, Reed. I’ll pick it up when I head for home.”

  “Sure thing. I’ll leave it in your bag on the porch.”

  Chapter 24

  Well, how did it go at the Bar X Ranch last night?” Aunt Zoe asked as she burst into the kitchen to join me at the table for a late lunch. It consisted of frozen Aunt Jemima waffles warmed in the toaster, outdated Hostess Twinkies and green tea. “Did you catch the outlaws? Did Reed mention me?”

  “Nope and nope.”

  “That’s all you’ve got to say?”

  “Pretty much.”

  Not ready to give up quite yet, Aunt Zoe tried one more time. “Are you sure?”

  “Let me think. I pretended to dig through the crevices of my mind now for anything worthy to share while my roommate’s hopeful yearnings were left dangling in the wind. After I stalled as long as I dared, I gave my face a serious makeover. “Oh, yeah. There was something else.”

  Aunt Zoe had enough of the suspense. “Well, come on, Mary. Out with it.”

  “It was boring.”

  She giggled. “You’re nasty. I thought you were about to tell me something of major importance.”

  “It was important.”

  “Ah huh.”

  The bottle of syrup I held in my hands was too sluggish for me. Not wanting to wait another minute for the syrup’s viscosity to kick in to overdrive, I boldly took over now. I unscrewed the cap, stuck a knife in the bottle and shoved the syrup on out, managing to saturate three waffles with two inches of sticky goo.

  “Mary, isn’t that a trifle much? You said you were going to start counting calories.”

  I glanced at the syrup bottle still in my hand. It was full when I started, and now it was almost empty. “Did I? You’re sure I didn’t say next month?”

  Aunt Zoe had to think that one through for a moment, which gave me time to take a bite. “No, I’m sure after we shared those last sweets with Margaret, you said you planned to start this week.”

  “Hmm? I don’t remember. Had I already had a couple glasses of wine when I stated that?”

  “No. We only had tea with the coffee cake.”

  “Well, it’s too late,” I said as I shoved another bite of waffle in my mouth and savored the lingering maple flavor. “I’ll just have to start tomorrow or the day after that.”

  “Suit yourself. Just don’t complain about your pants being so darn tight.”

  “I never do that.”

  My roommate was finished with her lunch, so she carried her dishes to the sink and began to run water. “I’m really nervous about my date with Reed tonight, Mary. Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to go.”

  Stuffed, I stood and cleared the remaining dishes from the table and joined her at the sink. “You’ll be fine, Auntie. Dating’s like riding a bike. You never forget.” At least I hope not. My own dates have been so far and few between. I handed the dirty dishes off to my aunt and then stepped out of her way, so she could wash them.

  “Hmm. I wonder . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “Oh, never mind,” Aunt Zoe said as she held out a canary-colored dish towel for me that had been lodged in the cupboard’s door handle hidden from view by her legs. “So, have you made plans for tonight, or are you just going to sit home and watch reruns of Murder She Wrote?”

  “No reruns for me tonight. I thought I’d examine the pictures you took, take a walk around Loring Park with Gracie, and then maybe chill out with a good book unless a fire alarm interrupts me.”

  I should’ve never mentioned I was thinking of taking Gracie for a walk. Upon hearing her name and the magic word for outside, the mutt left her meager Milkbone scraps behind on the kitchen floor by the fridge and zipped over to me. I acknowledged her presence and then motioned for her to sit.

  “You know you don’t have to keep reminding me of that toaster incident, Mary.”

  “You’re absolutely right. Why do I want to be reminded of Rod Thompson’s rude behavior? Such a jerk.”

  “Now, now, you’re being mean-spirited. I found Mr. Thompson to be quite a pleasant fellow.”

  “Humpf. Him pleasant? He’s nothing but a chauvinistic know-it-all.”

  My aunt fanned her wet hand at me. “Whatever you say.”

  *****

  An hour had passed since Aunt Zoe had left for her date, and I was bored to death, so I grabbed one of her romance novels off the coffee table. Six pages were all I could swallow, and then I tossed it aside. “Such rubbish. How can women read that stuff?” I got up from the La-Z-Boy, went to the kitchen and picked up the phone. I was deeply concerned about Reed Griffin and my aunt and wanted to discuss the situation with someone before I went crazy. Margaret Grimshaw was the perfect person to contact.

  “Yes, he seems to be extremely nice. Yes, yes, I understand all that, Margaret. She’s definitely old enough to take care of herself, and if she really wanted me there she would’ve asked me again. I just don’t want to see her get hurt. You saw how upset she was about her stepsons getting all her possessions because her thoughtless husband didn’t think of writing a new will. What if Reed doesn’t share something he should?”

  “What’s that? Divorced? I have no clue. I heard through the grapevine his wife moved to Georgia two years ago.” I ran my hand across my forehead. “I feel like the parent here. The man could be just stringing my aunt along.”

  “If you’re so worried, Mary, go to Ziggy Piggy’s and check things out for yourself.”

  “No way. I told Aunt Zoe line dancing was stupid.”

  The listener on the other end of phone line said, “Well, you’ll come up with some logical reason for showing up. I heard teachers are good at thinking on their feet.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “I don’t recall. Just fill me in tomorrow.”

  “If I go.”

  “Oh, you will. Arrivederci.”

  I placed the kitchen phone back in its cradle now and then took a peek at my wristwatch. Eight o’clock. Time is fleeing, Mary. You’ve gotta make up your mind fast. I spun around and almost stumbled over a sleepy mutt. Her long body was spread between the kitchen doorway and the hallway. Evidently our walk wiped her out. I wish it would’ve wiped me out too. I glanced at the coffee table from where I stood. I could find something else to read, but I knew my mind wasn’t in it; it was still too jammed with concerns for my roommate. “Well, should I go, Gracie?”

  Her ears flapped wildly. “Wuff. Wuff.”

  “Okay, I hear you. You want me out of your hair.”

  “Wuff.”

  I jumped over her now, picked up my purse and then quietly exited, or so I thought.

  “Mary, what a coincidence,” Rod Thompson said as he strolled over to my apartment door. Darn. I should’ve left the dumb door unlocked. Gracie was security enough. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately,” he continued. Ditto, but not the way you think. “Especially in that morning getup you were modeling. What was it again?”

  How could anybody in her right mind fall for this guy? I began to twirl the chain with my
keys round and round while I thought of a good comeback. The best I could come up with at such short notice were the words get lost. While I struggled to keep my sanity, an ingenious plan popped into my head, one in which I wouldn’t have to use those two magic words. I’d have to act fast though. Lay on the Malone charm as thick as possible. It won’t work. He’s an FBI agent. He’ll see right through you. Those guys are trained to read facial expressions and body language. Yeah? We’ll see about that. “Why, Rod, I can’t believe you’re still thinking about that morning. It’s so sweet of you. So where are you headed? Any place special?”

  “Not really. Did you have something in mind?”

  “Yeah, I was kind’a thinking about Ziggy Piggy’s. You know tossing back a few beers, chowing down a greasy barbecue sandwich and maybe doing a bit of line dancing. What do you think?”

  “Sounds good to me. Did you plan to walk, or do you want me to drive?”

  “Silly man. What a question. You see these keys?”

  “Ah huh.” I tossed them to him.

  “You drive. Two beers and I’m wasted. Besides, who’s going to stop an FBI agent?”

  Rod laughed smugly. “Right.”

  Chapter 25

  One Killian’s Irish Red and a Ziggy Piggy’s famous Hot as Hell barbecue sandwich.” Rod faced me now. “Your turn, Mary. You did say we were going Dutch, right?”

  What a gem! A nice man would override a decision to go Dutch and just pick up the tab. Just proves what you’ve been thinking all along, Mary, he’s not nice. I swallowed hard. Say goodbye to the last of your discretionary income. “You got it.” The waitress spun on her worn-out black oxfords, so she could look me directly in the eye. “Make sure we get two separate bills would you please. We don’t want anyone to construe that we’re in some sort of relationship when we’re not.” Our mid-forties haggard looking waitress kept her lips sealed as she continued to wait for my order. “Okay. I think I’ll have the same kind of beer he’s having except throw an olive in it, and I’d like a Dagwood barbecue sandwich on the mild side and curly fries.”