Chapter 36
I had barely bopped back into our abode when Aunt Zoe bombarded me with, “What’s our neighbor across the hall making?”
Stepping into the newly decorated Moroccan living room at this moment, or even the next day or two, was at the bottom of my list. This gal can only manage to keep her feelings corked if she steers clear of what’s upsetting her. You know, out of sight out of mind. When I left Margaret’s, I was determined to finish out the evening in the kitchen, and so was my stomach. But as I began to flee in that direction, I remembered the promise I’d made to myself regarding yelling in an apartment and hastily surrendered. I strutted into the living room, looked my aunt in the eye and woodenly stated, “Banana bread.”
“Yum. That would go good with coffee in the morning. Do you think we’ll get a sample? We did share our sugar after all.”
She’s got you cornered. Better pull out a whopper, Mary. “I hate to disappoint you, Auntie, but Margaret told me the bread’s for the bake sale at her church.”
My roommate’s mouth dropped a mile. “Oh? Well, I suppose you and I could make bread tomorrow.”
Fire alarms immediately went off in my head. That’s when I remembered Reed’s latest message. I hated to use that as an excuse instead of not having the right ingredients in the house, but it worked for me. “One thing at a time,” I said. “Reed called me when I was on my way to the optical store.”
She smiled. “He did? What did he want?”
“He called to tell me Angel had died.”
Aunt Zoe’s hands flew to her mouth. “The poor man. He must be devastated. I need to call him.”
“I plan to phone him in a little bit. You can talk to him then.”
“We should make a loaf of bread, Mary, and take it over to him.”
“Well, we have to make sure we have all the ingredients for whatever recipe we chose. What recipe did you have in mind?”
My aunt sat there and stared into space.
While I waited, my stomach complained angrily. Be patient. I have a plan. My aunt’s recipes always come from the food containers she has always bought rather than from the books she’s collected, so I swiftly broke through her silence and said, “Is your recipe handy?”
She shook her red spiked head. “I use the one on the can of pumpkin.”
Ta da. Score one for Mary. There were no cans of pumpkin in our nearly bare cupboard which meant there would be no charred mess to clean up or smoke to inhale. “Well, I guess we’ll have to buy something from the bakery on our way out to Cottage Grove tomorrow. I promptly turned in the direction of the kitchen now. “Auntie, I hope you don’t mind, but I have to get something to eat before we call Reed. I’m famished.”
“That’s fine. I can wait. By the way, there’s still chow mein left from the other night.”
“Chow mein? That sounds good.”
Aunt Zoe followed me to the kitchen now. “Oh, Mary, I forgot to tell you the land line rang just as I stepped out to finish the laundry. Maybe someone else needs help.”
“Either that or it’s one of Matt’s buddies. He left on such short notice he probably didn’t get around to telling everyone what his plans were.”
The minute I finished cleaning up the kitchen, I scrambled to the bedroom to see if a message had been left. Gracie was lounging on the bed hiding the machine from view. “So this is where you’ve been. I thought it was funny you didn’t come see me when I got home.” I shoved her over now and sat down.
There was one message. “This call is for Mary Malone.” I recognized the voice. It was Sergeant Murchinak. “Mary, I barely scratched the surface, but I wanted to share what information I have so far regarding what we talked about earlier. Matt was right. John Doe does have a history. He was brought up on a drug charge a few years back, but it was tossed out on a technicality.” The cop probably meant daddy dear pulled strings and got him off. “Colorado’s Department of Transportation faxed me a copy of his license. I’m expecting more specifics, so hopefully I’ll be able to share them with you when you come by to verify the picture.”
So, Clint Russell got caught up in drugs. Huh? What kind? And what was with the Colorado license? As far as I knew he was a resident of Minnesota.
Too bad Clint isn’t my only problem, I thought. Margaret’s friend, Tom, who has been around saddles and harnesses for well over fifty years didn’t have good news for me either. He didn’t recognize the thin piece of metal I’d found. “There are always new buckle designs being flaunted,” he told me, “Perhaps I just haven’t caught it on the Internet.” He did, however, strongly recommend I talk to a vet who works with large animals. “They see so much more when they visit ranches than I do with what comes into my small shop.”
I flipped my hair behind my ears. Huh? Now, that’s something I hadn’t thought about. Visit a vet. Aren’t I lucky? I knew just the one. I could spin my wheels around, and he lived right here in the metro area. Of course, I was referring to cute-as-a-button Doctor Troy Taylor. Hmm? His bedside manner for humans did leave one wondering, but, hey, if I hung around him, at least he wouldn’t stab me in the back. Another thing, Mary, doctors don’t hightail it out of town on a whim. That’s true. Surely Mom would get off my back about dating the minute she heard I was seeing a doctor. A win-win for everyone. Why not?
Good thing I didn’t have to sub tomorrow. My dance card was already full. I changed into shortie PJs, and then I went to get my aunt to make that call to Reed.
Chapter 37
Well, look at you, Mary,” Aunt Zoe said as she greeted me in the kitchen doorway with her hair rolled up in juice-can-size rollers again. How did Uncle Edward manage to stay married to her all those years, I wondered? Maybe it’s one of those unexplained miracles. “Did you sneak out after I went to bed?”
“Why?”
“You look like something the cat dragged in.”
“Ouch. You really know how to hurt a girl.” I quickly swiped away the gunk the sandman left me and fluffed my hair. “There. Is that better?”
She laughed. “Not much. So, are you going to tell me who your hot date was?”
I yawned. “There was no hot date unless you’re referring to the weird dream I kept having.”
My roommate tightened the belt on her neon-pink bathrobe before handing me a cup of freshly brewed coffee. “See. I was right. A man was involved.” Now she returned to the counter to pour herself a cup.
“Men,” I clarified as I locked my elbows on the table and picked up my cup.
“Men?” Aunt Zoe immediately zipped back to the table with her java and sat. “Ooo. This gets juicier by the minute. Fill me in, niece.”
Darn. I hadn’t anticipated going down that road, but I should’ve. Her and those dumb romance novels. Oh, well. One man will just have to remain anonymous. “I was on a Ferris wheel and couldn’t get off. It just kept going around and around.”
Aunt Zoe took a couple sips of coffee and then set her cup down, “Get to the good part,” she demanded, “I want to know who was with you.”
“One time it was Rod, the next Doc Taylor.”
“Oh, my,” she gulped. “Maybe we should’ve had tea instead of coffee. I could’ve read your tea leaves. So, who were you with when the dream ended?”
“I, ah, don’t know.” I did, but I wasn’t sharing. “Everything got fuzzy real fast.” I got up now and poured myself a bowl of cereal before my aunt tried to analyze my dream.
Thankfully, the break did the trick. “Mary, how soon are we leaving for Reed’s? I’m really concerned about him.”
I set my filled cereal bowl on the table, and then I gripped both of my roommate’s shoulders. “I am too, Auntie. If I didn’t have an errand to run this morning, we could’ve been out there already.” I released her shoulders and sat. “I suppose I could drop you off at his ranch before
I go to a meeting out that way.”
“About what time will that be?”
“Twelve-thirty.”
She put a gob of raspberry jam on her toast now and spread it around. “Don’t forget we wanted to get goodies from the bakery.”
“I know. I’ll pick something up when I go out this morning.”
As soon as my aunt had devoured her toast, she went flying into the living room. I presumed to call Reed and tell him what time she’d be arriving.
Gracie got up from her spot by the fridge, meandered over to me and put a paw on my lap. I hugged her. “Well, that worked out splendidly, girl. Don’t you think?”
“Wuff. Wuff.”
“Yup. She never asked about the meeting or the errand.”
*****
For some reason, the instant I stepped into the police substation this morning I felt like I was playing a scene in one of the old Perry Mason shows. Paul Drake, the usual detective, was out of the picture and I was filling in. Sergeant Murchinak had replaced Lieutenant Tragg.
“Can I help you, Miss?” the young officer at the front desk asked.
I was just about to tell him what my mission was when Sergeant Murchinak popped into the lobby. “I’ll take care of it, Cal. She’s here to see me.” Now, he led me back to his office.
“Sorry I didn’t call beforehand,” I said as I quickly drew up the nearest chair. “I haven’t been thinking too clearly ever since Matt first mentioned Clint might be a criminal.” I wrung my hands for emphasis.
“No need to apologize,” the heavyset cop said, “Your timing’s perfect. My departmental meeting doesn’t start for another twenty minutes.” He pushed his swivel chair in the opposite direction now, grabbed a folder off the shelving unit where he’d put the box of donuts the other day, and then spun back towards me. “There isn’t too much more on Russell than what I stated, but at least we have a picture of him.” He let go of the fax he had received and slid it across his well-worn desk.
This is it, Mary. It all boils down to one lousy picture. My fingers were sweating so profusely I didn’t think I’d be able to lift the paper off the cop’s desk. Did I want the guy I knew as Clint Russell to really be him or not? I wasn’t sure. Maybe in some perverse sort of way I did. Loneliness could be dangerous. I held the fax in my moist hands and stared at the photo. The man looking back at me was shockingly similar to the one I’ve come face to face with several times this summer, but I knew without a doubt this was not the Clint Russell I’ve been with. He was lacking Clint Eastwood’s fine chiseled lips and prominent Adam’s apple like my guy had.
“Well, what do you think?”
“Could be the guy,” I said, “except you said he has a Colorado license.”
Sergeant Murchinak cleared his throat. “That’s true, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t be living up here.” Now, he pulled more info out of his folder. “According to our sources, Clint Russell is supposed to be managing a hotel in Denver for his dad, but he hasn’t been around for some time. When the employees were asked why they hadn’t reported his being AWOL to daddy yet, they said it was because Russell’s quite the playboy and skips town whenever he pleases. Sometimes he hit the casinos. Other times he jets off to a clandestine location with a top model in tow.”
More bad news. The real Russell doesn’t even remotely sound like the guy I had the hots for. I dropped the dreaded fax back on Sergeant Murchinak’s desk.
“Are you okay, Mary? You look a little pale. I suppose it’s the shock of finding out the guy you’ve been dating has been in trouble with the law?”
He’s way off target. The only thing shaking me up is discovering the guy I have a crush on isn’t who he says he is and he may be a worse criminal than the real Clint Russell. And where is the real Clint Russell? Is he being held for ransom? “It’s a bit of a shock. I guess I just need to move past it.”
Sergeant Murchinak scooped up the information he had shared with me, and then said, “If this Russell guy ends up giving you any grief when you let him loose, Mary, just dial my number. I’ll straighten him out.”
I stood now and shook his hand. “Thanks. I’ll remember that.
Chapter 38
I pulled up to the massive Bar X gates and dropped off Aunt Zoe. “Here are the cinnamon rolls, Auntie. Now, don’t forget to tell Reed I’ll be by in about a half hour to pick you two up. Sally Sullivan’s mother is very ill, and I don’t want to keep her waiting.”
“I’ll remember,” she said as she swung the gates open. “Have a good meeting.”
“I plan to.” As soon as I made sure there was no oncoming traffic, I backed the Topaz up and took off down King’s Trail for Doc Taylor’s.
The good-looking veterinarian was just getting out of his deep-blue Toyota pickup when I pulled into his driveway behind him. He stared at the Topaz for a split second, and then he waved.
I rolled down my car window. “Is it all right to park here or would you rather I park somewhere else?”
“It’s fine where it’s at,” the casually clothed doctor replied as he walked around to the truck’s passenger side, opened the door and grabbed something off the seat. When his right hand finally emerged from the truck, I saw a medium-sized black bag which I presumed held veterinarian equipment. Doc struggled with it as he shifted the bag to his left hand, so he could close the truck door. Then he promptly strolled over to where I was waiting. “Come on up on the porch where it’s cooler. We can talk there.”
“Big place you have here, Doc,” I remarked as I followed him up the wide steps that led to an old-fashioned country style veranda. How do you have time to take care of it?” And how can you afford it, I silently wondered? According to my information, you haven’t been practicing all that long. Hmm? Maybe he got lucky and someone left him a ton of money.
The vet grinned sheepishly. “Hired help. Besides the upkeep of the house and land, there’s a barn where I stable my two horses and others I’m asked to tend to from time to time.” He nonchalantly plopped his bag by the front door and then ushered me over to the white rocking chairs I’ve seen on tons of porches during the summer months. “Care for anything cold to drink?”
I should’ve milked my visit with him for all it was worth, but something stopped me. At the time I blamed it on being so jittery. “No, thanks, I just finished lunch, but if you want something go right ahead.”
“Actually, I’m fine too. So, what brings you by?”
“I’ve been curious about something I found a while back.”
As soon as my words flew out of my mouth, Doc Taylor’s tanned well-toned six-foot body tensed up. “Oh? How does it concern me?”
I pulled the small metal object out of a pants pocket now and concealed it in my fist until I was ready to hand it over. “I showed this to a guy at a harness and saddle shop, but he didn’t recognize it. He’s the one who suggested I talk to a vet involved with large animals. You guys see a lot more than he does.”
His body relaxed now. “I see.” He held his hand out indicating I should place the object I brought in it. The minute I did so he sucked in too much air and began to choke.
I jumped out of the rocking chair I was sitting in and rushed over to where he sat. “Are you all right? Do you want me to get you a glass of water?” Before he could reply to my questions, I headed for the front door.
“No wait! He managed to say between coughs, “Don’t go in there, Miss Malone. I’m fine. It’s just my allergies kicking in.”
“Are you sure?” Because I don’t mind waiting on a hunk like you, I thought.
“Yup. Positive.” Now, he started to look at the floorboards at his feet.
“Something wrong, Doc?”
“I must’ve dropped what you gave me when that coughing spell came on.” He got out of his chair and looked some more. At least he gave me the
impression that’s what he was doing.
“Oh, I think I see it,” I lied.
“You do?”
I got down on my hands and knees but didn’t see a thing. It didn’t matter. I still had my wild card to play which was hidden in my pants pocket. While Doc Taylor had his head turned in another direction, I pulled the other piece of metal out and pretended to pluck the object in question off the faded white floor boards. “There you go,” I said as I stood and handed him the piece of metal. “So, what do you think? Is this a metal bit that goes in a horse’s mouth, or is it off a piece of horse equipment?”
The veterinarian acted like the tiny metal object was burning a hole in his hand. He tossed it back to me after about two seconds. “I, ah, don’t recall ever seeing anything like that when I’ve been out and about. It probably came off from a piece of farm machinery. Might as well toss it,” he casually suggested.
“Yes, you’re probably right.” I shoved the unidentified object back in my pocket and moved towards the steps. “Say, Doc, have you ever met Reed Griffin’s wife? I heard she was pretty nasty?”
“Yeah, I think it was sometime last year. She was okay to me.”
Interesting. Either Terry’s wrong about when the missus flew the coop, or she returned to do some sniffing around. Which was it? “Huh? Well, maybe others just rubbed her the wrong way,” I said as I dangled my best smile in front of him, hoping he’d pick up on the cue and invite me to chat longer.
“Could be.” Darn, he didn’t follow through. Maybe he’d just had too strenuous of a morning.
I turned my back to him and marched down the steps. “Thanks for your time.”
Death at the Bar X Ranch Page 22