Death at the Bar X Ranch

by Marlene Chabot

  “Is that it?” the waitress asked before she grabbed our pig menus and dragged her weary body back to the kitchen.

  “Ah, add a salad to that to, would you.” I was famished, and I wasn’t about to starve just because a man was sharing my table. Besides, I was paying for it.

  “Wow. You sure like to live on the wild side, Mary. Ordering everything but the kitchen sink. My type of woman.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You know, you’ve got a hearty appetite. Most gals I take out barely let the food skim their thin lips.”

  “Hmm. That must make for a rather dull evening.”

  “You got it. Why, when I get them to their doors, they’re ready to collapse.”

  The picture Rod Thompson just portrayed for me was too scary to think about, and I didn’t even have a witty comment to bounce back with.

  Silence ensued now. We had reached an impasse. Rod drummed his fingers on the bare table top while my eyes flitted here and there, making it appear I was checking things out. Our order better be up in a flash, or this fake date is history.

  Rod suddenly coughed. I think it was a lame attempt at starting the conversation up again. After two more coughs, he came out with, “So, Mary, I understand you’re unemployed. What do you do with yourself all day? Sleep?”

  What a Bozo. I wanted to kick his butt, but I couldn’t afford to blow my secret mission. “Who told . . . ? Aunt Zoe, of course. Actually, I’m doing a little sleuthing on the side.”

  Our waitress showed up with our beers, and Rod patiently waited for her to finish her job before commenting on my employment. “You’ve got to be kidding. You’re filling in for Matt while he’s out of the country?”

  “No, no. Nothing like that.” Now I brushed off the crumbs left on the table by the previous diners before sampling my martini beer.

  The tall lean Nordic man raked his hands through his thick blond hair. “Well, that’s good because every time Matt got into a jam I told him to back off and let the cops and FBI agents do their jobs, but he never listened.”

  Such a jerk. Matt has more smarts in one finger than Rod will ever have in his whole head.

  Steam slowly oozed out the top of my head. I didn’t know who I felt sorrier for myself or the people in the surrounding tables. When the explosion occurs, which it will any second now, look out. “You’re a piece of . . .”

  A feminine voice rudely interrupted the verbiage about to spew from my mouth, saving Rod from being told off. “Mary, I’m so glad you came.”

  Noticing who I was with now, my roommate gave her nod of approval before acknowledging him. “Nice to see you again, Rod. I’ll never forget what you did for me. I mean us.”

  The FBI agent greeted Aunt Zoe with a warm smile. “Nice to see you too, Zoe. Mary never mentioned you were down here.”

  My fingers flew to my lips. “Oops. I guess it slipped my mind.”

  Rod didn’t buy my explanation for a second. His flirtatious eyes suddenly turned dangerous.

  Luckily, Aunt Zoe didn’t notice that Rod’s wonderful charisma had evaporated when she next said, “I know you don’t like line dancing, Mary, but you and Rod should give it a whirl after you eat. Thanks Aunt Zoe. You just blew my plan wide open. “Well, I’d better run along. My friend’s probably wondering where I am.”

  “Okay, Zoe. We’ll make sure to kick up our heels later,” Rod promised.

  “Good.” Now she pranced off in her newest pair of rusty-colored cowgirl boots that matched the crinkle skirt and sleeveless top she wore.

  As much as my roommate drove me crazy and I wished she lived far, far away, tonight, I wasn’t anxious for her to leave. Rod was about to pounce, and I wasn’t ready for his outburst.

  “Spill it, Mary. You weren’t hitting on me when we met in the hall, were you?”

  My eyes shifted from Rod to the half drunk beer in front of me. Why continue to lie. It wouldn’t accomplish anything. “Guilty as charged.”

  “I can’t believe I fell for your feminine wiles.” He banged his fist on the table. If he was trying to scare me, it didn’t work. Little kids have temper tantrums all the time.

  “My suggestion to you, Mr. FBI agent, is to stop working with computers so much and get out in the real world more.”

  That did it. He blew his lid. “For your information, I get out plenty, and unlike you, I don’t need to fake an interest in someone to have a date for the night. You’re pathetic.”

  I took a deep breath and counted to ten. “It wasn’t like that.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “No, I mean it. You’ve got it all wrong. Well, partly.”

  “See! I bet you can’t even explain our night out in the simplest words possible. Women have a habit of going on and on forever.”

  Plenty of men out there do the same thing, Mr. Know it all. Trying to dodge the bullet for a while longer, I said, “How about after we eat? I’m famished.”

  My escort examined the table and then scanned the floor under it. “What do you plan on eating?”

  “That.” I pointed to the waitress approaching with our tray.

  Rod glanced over his shoulder. “Fine. But as soon as we’re finished eating, you’re going to explain what’s going on in the least amount of words possible, whether you like it or not.”

  “Oh, joy,” and then I bit into the messiest barbecue sandwich I’ve ever seen this side of Louisville, Kentucky.

  Chapter 26

  I was fried. Once I explained the reason for my deception, I thought Rod would let me off the hook. No such luck. Turned out he grew up on line dancing and preferred it to twirling a partner anytime. Go figure. At least no one would ever catch the two of us waltzing together. “What do you mean you’ve never line danced? Have you been living in a cave?”

  “Of course not, I’m a teacher. I just prefer old-fashioned dance steps like a polka or the butterfly.”

  “You said you came down here to keep an eye on your aunt, right?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “No buts. This is the perfect setup for spying. Just follow my lead.” Rod pulled me towards the dance floor.

  I’m going to make a fool of myself, and he’ll be the first one rolling on the floor laughing. I just know it. How am I going to get out of this? Fake a stomachache. You did over eat. Nope. Won’t work. He won’t swallow another fib. You’re stuck then.

  “Come on, Mary. Stand next to me,” Rod insisted. “You won’t learn anything by playing bashful.”

  I suppose it was better to watch him then trying to follow the moves of ten strangers. “Okay, okay,” I replied as I moved closer to him. Hmm? I had never noticed the great cologne he was wearing until then, Tommy Bahama Very Cool. I gave Mike a bottle for Christmas last year. There was no denying that scent could heavily influence a gal’s attraction to a man. I shook my head. But not you, Mary. You don’t like him, remember? Yeah, yeah.

  Once the next piece of country music started up, the floor filled with several parallel lines. Rod immediately began shifting his feet this way and that. I found the only way I could possibly copy the same step patterns was if my eyes were totally focused on his feet. Even then it wasn’t easy keeping up. The steps seemed to be changing faster and faster. There’s no way I can stay out on this dance floor. I’m a disaster waiting to happen. And then, right on cue, all that I had been trying to do got flushed down the toilet. When I should have already been pivoting, my feet were still vining and I tripped and landed on my fanny.

  Luckily, I wasn’t sitting there too long before somebody rushed to assist me from behind and hoisted me to my feet. “Are you all right?”

  Too mortified to look the do-gooder in the face, I just kept my eyes focused on the wall in front of me, brushed off the back of my jeans and said, “Yup. Thanks.”
<
br />   My brief comment didn’t ward him off as I had hoped. “Are you sure? It looked like you hit the floor pretty hard. Maybe you could use something to drink.”

  Something to drink? Yuk. What planet is this dude from? Give him the old heave ho, Mary. You didn’t come here for that. You’re supposed to be keeping track of your aunt. I know. The longer I sat and didn’t give a reply the harder it was going to be to turn the guy down. I just didn’t like disappointing people. I think it’s the looking them in the eye that makes it so tough. Come on. What are you waiting for? Get it over with.“Look,” I finally said as I turned towards him now, “thank you for being concerned, but I—” Oh, my God, it’s him in the flesh.

  Clint Russell and I were standing a mere six inches from each other. “But what?”

  “I’m ah, not here by myself.”

  “I know. You’re one of Reed Griffin’s employees. I never forget a face.”

  “Me neither,” I barely managed to say as the music played on, totally forgetting the nasty comments he made when he first saw me at the Bar X Ranch.

  “Well, it doesn’t matter. I think you still need something to take care of that jolt you received. A wood floor isn’t a trampoline.”

  I chuckled. “No kidding.”

  “So name your poison.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I really shouldn’t. If Mr. Griffin sees me fraternizing with you, he may can me.”

  “Then let’s hightail it over to the restaurant side,” he kindly suggested in my ear. “He won’t see us there.”

  I know what you’re thinking. How could I go anywhere with this man who treats my client like dirt? Well, for one, how often do you think a woman like me gets the chance to be near a man like him? Two, a really good sleuth frequently sleeps with the enemy. Okay, forget Perry Mason and Miss Marple. “All right, let’s go. By the way, my name’s Mary Malone.”

  “Clint Russell.”

  When we reached the restaurant area we found a corner booth and slid in. “So, did you come to Minneapolis just to line dance tonight?” I inquired.

  “No, I had a business engagement earlier in this part of town and thought I’d stop in and see what Ziggy Piggy’s all about.” The man’s reply was doable, but he also might be spying on Reed for some reason.

  I was about to ask another question, but a college-aged waitress stopped me dead. I hadn’t seen her before. She must’ve just come on duty. So full of energy, not like the gal I had earlier. “Hi. What can I get you?”

  “Go ahead, Mary.”

  “Long Island Tea.”

  The young waitress couldn’t get enough of Clint. She was drooling all over him. “And, you, sir?”

  He offered her a tiny smile. “Make mine an Irish Coffee.”

  As soon as she took off, Clint said, “Now, where were we?”

  I nervously folded my hands in front of me. I had no clue where they would wander if they were set free. “You were telling me why you came in here tonight.”

  “That’s right. So, do you live around here, Mary, or in St. Paul?”

  My motto in life is never give out information you don’t want the enemy to know. Sticking to that now, I said, “Champlin.”

  “Oh? I’ve never been to that northern suburb.”

  Congrats, Mary. Good choice. “Really? Well, the population’s about 24,000.” Continuing to draw on a fellow teacher’s hometown now, I fed him another line about the community. “It was the flour mill and ferry service begun in the 1800s that kept the town rolling along.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Yeah, I like to dabble in Minnesota history in my spare time.” That was true. “What do you do with your free time?” It was a dumb question since I already knew he harassed his neighbors, but I wanted to hear something flow from his sweet lips.

  “Not much.” Hmm. This guy’s going to be one tough cookie to crack. “So, where did you work before the Bar X Ranch, Mary?”

  Why did I suddenly get the feeling Clint was fishing for info just as much as I was. “Oh, here and there.”

  Our drinks were finally delivered, but before I could get my billfold out, Clint said, “Charge it to this card, please.” I wasn’t about to argue. Reed had implied he had money to burn. I just wondered which card someone with his wealth preferred using. American Express?

  The waitress winked and said, “Sure thing. I’ll be right back,” and then she disappeared in the crowd.

  Now, Clint’s attention was drawn to my beverage of choice. “Well, that ought to take care of any pain in your derriere.”

  “You think?” I picked up the Long Island Tea and was about to sample it when Rod appeared out of nowhere and charged up to our booth. Why did he have to spoil the moment?

  “There you are, Mary.”

  “Yup. Here I am.”

  He eyeballed Clint now. “Sorry to interrupt the two of you, but I’ve been looking everywhere for her.”

  “I fell, and Clint was kind enough to help me off the dance floor.”

  Rod suddenly took on this whole macho persona I’ve seen my brothers display over the years when another male’s caught ogling their women. His hand quickly claimed possession of my shoulder. I tried to flick it off, but he persisted. “Oh? That’s nice, but now that I’m back in the picture, Mary, it’s time to move on. I’ve got more moves to show you.”

  Clint wasn’t about to let me leave. “Is he your boyfriend?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Then back off,” he demanded. “The little lady will join you as soon as she finishes her drink.”

  Matt always said Rod didn’t like losing, so I wasn’t surprised when he didn’t walk away. “Look, Mr. Hotshot, she’s coming with me, or she won’t get home.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yeah.”

  Even though it was fun having two men fighting over me, I knew it had to end. I didn’t want to see either one get thrown in the slammer. I picked up my drink now and slid out of the booth. “He’s right, Clint. I have to go. He’s driving my car. Thanks. See ya.”

  Clint’s face instantly shattered. Oh, my gosh! Was he truly disappointed that this female had to depart, or was it just a matter of potential questions never being asked? I guess I’ll never know unless I create another reason for running into him. And that, girl, shouldn’t be a problem. Your creative side’s always coming up with zingers.

  “You were giving off strange vibes back there, Mary,” Rod said after we moved a few feet from Clint.

  I played dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yes, you do. Fess up. The bit about his coming to your aid, there was more to it than that, wasn’t there?”

  Toss him a bone, Mary, or he’ll be riding you ragged the rest of the evening. FBI agents don’t give up easily. “Research,” I swiftly volunteered.

  Rod’s sapphire eyes examined me from head to toe now as if he’d met me a second ago. “I just bet.”

  Chapter 27

  Morning came too early, and I wasn’t the least bit chipper about it. Not only did I have a headache the size of Lake Superior, but my poor arms had been locked in the same position on the kitchen table for over an hour now, trying to keep the noggin in midair. At this point, all I could hope for was that Aunt Zoe wouldn’t prance in here with her usual good cheer. Unfortunately, my wish wasn’t granted.

  The minute my roommate, clad in a silky neon-pink bathrobe humming so loudly the dead could’ve been awaken, waltzed into the kitchen and began slamming cupboard doors in the wake of foraging for breakfast essentials, I knew the quiet interlude that had been mine existed no longer. “Auntie,” I softly begged, “keep the noise level down.”

  The request went unheeded. Drawers banged as they were opened and closed. Maybe her hearing’s going. Although she hear
d everything I said yesterday at that noisy dog park when she was more than two feet away from me. I spoke a little louder now. “Aunt Zoe, cut the noise.”

  She swiftly obeyed. “Rough night, huh?”

  I barely managed to pop one eye open. “Yeah, you could say that. I mixed drinks.”

  “What are you talking about? You only had a beer at supper and water when you joined Reed and me.” I ignored my aunt’s thought process. I was in no mood to explain. Her hand suddenly flew to her face. “Oh, my goodness. Did Rod spike your water?”

  Spike my water? Where does she come up with this stuff? I forced my other eye open now. “No! Someone bought me a Long Island Tea.” I didn’t dare tell her it was Clint, or she’d accidently blab the news to Reed.

  She returned to her breakfast plans now, filled a small pan with water and plopped it down hard on a stove burner. I cringed. “What kind of man buys a woman a drink that strong?”

  “The type who asks what poison she prefers after she almost knocks herself unconscious on the dance floor.” Gracie had been quietly lying under the kitchen table by my bare feet since I’d come in here. Now, she began whining. “Hush,” I demanded.

  “You fell on the dance floor?” The water on the stove finally hissed. My roommate fell silent while she completed her breakfast preparation. She took the pot off the stove, added a half cup of oats and stirred.

  “Yup. That’s what I said.”

  “I’m missing something here.”

  “Sorry, I’m in no shape to help.”

  “It’s not the oatmeal. What aren’t you telling me? Rod was your date. How could an FBI agent let you slip through his fingers like that?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know.”

  Now Gracie continued to do her bit to let me know how unhappy she was. “Wuff. Wuff. Wuff. Wuff.”

  My hands shot from the jaw to the ears. “I can’t take it anymore, Auntie. You’re going to have to take the mutt out.”