She snapped the suitcase shut. Well, there’s no point in worrying about it now. It’s a problem that I’ll have to face when I return.
“I forgot to ask,” Nat said the next morning, as he stowed her suitcase into the trunk of his car. “Who’s looking after that miserable cat of yours?”
“A friend of the family,” she answered curtly. “We’d better get a move on if I’m to catch that train.”
CHAPTER TWO
By the time the train had reached the coastal mountains after stopping at the small stations of Squamish, Whistler and Pemberton, Maggie thought that the scenery couldn’t possibly get any better. She peered out of the dusty window of the three-coach train, awestruck by the beauty of the mountains, their snow and glacier peaks glinting in the morning sunshine. Then the scene changed to sheer tranquility as the track ran beside Duffy Lake, where the fir forest and mountains were reflected perfectly in the still water. Before reaching Lillooet, the train made a couple of stops to let passengers off. Most of them were met, and she watched as they threw their bags into battered pickup trucks or old cars. Once, the train even stopped to let a passenger off in front of his home. She watched the man throw his bag over the fence before hopping over it himself, then turn and give a cheery wave to the train’s engineer, who gave an answering toot of the whistle before continuing down the track. But the area was so remote, the roads that ran beside the tracks so narrow and dusty, that she wondered how people could possibly live in such isolation.
In the small town of Lillooet, there was a half-hour layover, giving her time to stretch her legs and buy a take-out lunch. Feeling refreshed, she settled once again to watch the landscape change to sand dunes and hills that the winds had carved into miniature castles and fortresses. The only greenery in this sparse, desert-like area was stunted fir trees and an abundance of wild sage. When the train emerged from the desert, the track ran through forests and open ranchland and around lakes before a brief stop at Lac la Hache. Maggie, very tired and stiff, was glad that she would soon be in Williams Lake.
Kate Guthrie, as good as her word, was at the station to meet her and soon had Maggie’s luggage in her Land Rover. Maggie, used to Jodie’s exuberance, found Kate extremely quiet and remote, and several attempts at starting up a conversation fell flat. By the time they reached the turnoff to the ranch, she was beginning to wonder if coming all this way was such a good idea. It was already dusk when they turned onto the private dirt road that led to the Guthries’ ranch. Kate turned off the engine in front of a large log house, and Maggie felt the peace of nature reaching out to her as she got out of the car and looked around. In the near distance, she could see barns and outbuildings settled on a gentle, sloping acreage, now enshrouded in a swirling mist. The strangeness of the scene was accentuated by an odd snuffling sound. She turned to find a number of brown and white cows, their heads hanging over a Russell fence, surveying her with interest. “Nice cows,” Maggie said, hastily backing away.
“Steers,” Kate corrected her, “not cows.” She unloaded Maggie’s suitcases, and carrying them toward the front door, opened it to be immediately greeted by two huge golden Labs. After slobbering all over Kate, they turned their attention to Maggie, who found to her dismay that she was being pushed back toward the fenced-in steers. “Down! Down!” Kate ordered. Giving Maggie a final lick, they reluctantly followed Kate inside.
“I’ll show you to your room. Supper will be ready in twenty minutes.” And still carrying Maggie’s luggage, Kate started to lead the way up the wide staircase.
“I can manage those,” Maggie said, reaching for the cases. “Perhaps your husband . . . ”
“My husband is out of town,” the girl answered shortly.
“Then let’s take one each,” Maggie said, firmly taking the largest out of Kate’s hands.
After a long hot shower, Maggie found her way downstairs to join her hostess in a comfortable kitchen-cum-dining room. The honey maple oval table, set for two, was positioned in a bay window overlooking the lake. Kate, with the two Labs sitting at her feet on the lino-tiled floor, was perched on a stool drawn up to a workmanlike island, preparing a salad.
“What can I do?” Maggie asked.
“It’s all done.” She poured Maggie a glass of wine and continued to chop.
“Are there other guests at the ranch?” Maggie asked.
“You’re the only one at the moment. But we’re fully booked for the summer.” There was another uncomfortable silence, then Kate said suddenly, “Jodie told me you work in a detective agency.”
Maggie, surprised at the comment, laughed. “Yes, though if someone had told me a couple of years ago that’s what I would be doing, I’d never have believed them.”
“Do you investigate missing people?” Kate asked as she placed the food on the table.
Maggie nodded and then sat down. “A great percentage of our services involve looking for people. Why? You mislaid someone?” She started to smile, but the look on the girl’s face stopped her.
“It’s Doug, my husband. He left on Sunday, June 7, to buy some horses, and . . . and I haven’t heard from him since.”
“That’s nearly two weeks ago. Where did he go?”
“To a ranch on the Alberta border, the McDougalls’ ranch. He should’ve been back by last weekend.”
“Did you call them?”
“Yes. Last Saturday. But they told me that he’d never arrived at all.”
“Why hadn’t they called you?”
“They said as it had been a tentative arrangement, they thought he’d changed his mind.”
“Have you called the police?”
“Yes. Right after I spoke to the McDougalls, but Brossard said to wait a few more days and if I still haven’t heard from him, they’d look into it.”
“Who’s Brossard?”
“RCMP.” Her eyes brimmed with tears. “I don’t know what to do . . . ”
Maggie placed her hand on Kate’s. “What about your hired help? Would they have an idea where else he could have gone?”
“I asked Hendrix—he looks after the horses and helps Doug run the ranch—but he said that he’s probably just gone off on a toot.” She wiped her eyes, then added, “Hendrix doesn’t like women very much in general and me in particular.”
“Has he been here long?”
“He came with the ranch when Doug took it over from his father.”
“How long ago was that?”
“About twenty years, I think.”
“That’s quite awhile,” Maggie answered.
Kate arose from the table, and carrying their coffee, led the way into the den. “It’s cosier in here.”
Maggie’s first impression of the den, which opened off the kitchen, was that it was anything but cosy. It was at least double the size of her own basement suite, and its atmosphere wasn’t improved by the leering wolf’s head hanging on the facing wall, baring its fangs and fixing its malevolent eyes on her as she sidled over to a huge, leather armchair. Fortunately, the antlered head over the massive fireplace was eyeless, and the grizzly bear rug—complete with head—that lay in front of it seemed to be asleep. She looked for guns and soon found them, at least a dozen, locked in a glass-fronted cabinet.
Kate put the cups down on a coffee table made of a large slab of varnished maple burl. “It’s quite a room, isn’t it?”
“How long did it take you to get used to all the wildlife?” Maggie indicated the wolf’s head.
“I don’t like them much, but it’s Doug’s room.”
“Yes. I can see that. He must do all his business in here,” she added, indicating the leather-topped desk and matching chair. The only feminine touches in the whole room were a number of watercolour landscapes. “Jodie says you worked in Vancouver before you were married?”
Kate nodded. “For Teasdale Advertising.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“It was, you know. I started there as a copy writer, but Ray Teasdale discovered I c
ould draw, and he started training me to be an illustrator. Then I met Doug.”
“End of career?”
Kate nodded again. “Shame, really. I liked my job.”
Maggie took a sip of her coffee and tried to stifle a yawn. “That journey really took it out of me.” She struggled out of her chair. “Who painted the watercolours?”
“I did. They’re not very good.”
“Better than I could do. Is this a view of the lake?”
“From the deck out back.”
“And this one?” Maggie asked, pausing in front of a scene of pastureland with a background of steep craggy hills.
“That’s way up on the border of our property—Black Adder Ravine. Doug took me up there by Jeep when I first arrived.”
“So you went back and painted this?”
“No. I did it from the photographs I took,” Kate answered. “My camera went everywhere with me in those first few weeks.”
“You haven’t been back?”
“He said once I’d got used to riding Ginny, we’d go back.” She stood silent for a moment. “Al—he’s Hendrix’s eighteen-year-old son—has been teaching me to ride, and he says I’m ready now. I was going to surprise Doug . . . ” Her voice quivered. “Do you ride?” she asked, with an effort to be the proper hostess.
“Used to,” Maggie answered. “And I’m looking forward to trying it again. Perhaps Hendrix can find a gentle horse for me, too.”
“We’ll look into it first thing in the morning.”
“Another thing we can look into in the morning is your husband’s whereabouts, Kate. Let me sleep on it.”
• • •
MAGGIE SLEPT WELL, apart from a disturbing dream of Henny banging on the door, yelling that Nat was on fire. But when she awoke, she put her guilty feelings of leaving her boss to the tender mercies of their new Girl Friday firmly behind her, and rolled over to look at her travel clock. “My God! It’s nine o’clock.” Throwing back the covers, she quickly washed and dressed for the day.
The table in the kitchen was set for one, and propped against a bowl of fruit was a note addressed to Maggie. Help yourself. Eggs and milk in the fridge, cereal on the counter, bread by the toaster. Gone to feed the chickens. Kate.
Maggie was just finishing her breakfast when the back door opened and Kate walked in with a wire basket of eggs. “I’ve spoken to Hendrix, and he’s getting Angel ready for you. You’ll love her; she’s such a pet.”
“I didn’t bring riding gear, Kate . . . ”
“Jeans will do. That’s what everyone wears around here.”
“I’ll go and change. Then you can have the pleasure of introducing me to Angel.” She paused in the doorway. “By the way,” she added, “did you call the police again?”
Kate nodded. “Corporal Brossard said that since it’s nearly two weeks since Doug left, he will definitely start looking into it.”
“I suppose that’s something.”
• • •
MAGGIE AND THE HORSE eyed each other warily. “Ever ridden before?” a voice said behind her. She turned to find a heavy-set man in his mid-fifties. He was dressed in jeans, western boots, red-checked shirt and the biggest Stetson she had ever seen. This must be Hendrix.
Kate made a perfunctory introduction, then hurried off to attend to her own mount.
“Not for quite awhile,” Maggie answered, trying not to stare at his hat. “My sister has a riding stable in Norfolk, but I haven’t been back there in awhile.” She put out a tentative hand to stroke Angel’s nose.
“Then you never used a western saddle?” He pointed to a mounting block. “Here, climb up.”
Maggie was terrified that she would make a complete fool of herself and go flying right over the horse and land on the ground. But to her surprise, she found herself astride the animal. Hendrix adjusted the stirrups. “Okay,” he said, “let’s see what you can do.” Swinging himself onto a huge chestnut mare, he leaned toward Angel and took the leading reins in his hand as they headed out of the enclosure and onto a well-marked trail. After her initial nervousness, Maggie soon found herself adjusting to the horse’s gait, and she even managed to take an occasional glance at the open range as they plodded toward the distant hills.
Hendrix broke the silence. “You a friend of Kate’s?”
“No. I rent a basement suite from her sister in Vancouver.” Her gaze wandered up ahead to where Kate, looking very much at home on her horse, was chatting to the young ranch hand keeping pace beside her on his grey mare. “Kate looks as if she’s doing okay.”
“Yep.”
“She’s worried about her husband.”
“Huh!” he snorted.
“You don’t think she has cause to worry? He’s been away for nearly two weeks now.”
“Used to go away all the time before she come along.” He leaned over and handed the reins to her. “Try riding on your own.”
“If you’re sure she won’t charge off with me clinging to her neck.”
“Just do what I showed you,” he added. “Head for those hills up there.”
“That seems an awfully long way.”
“You’ll make it,” he answered in his terse manner. “You seem like a natural. You’ll be sore when you get back.”
“Kate and Al are coming back,” Maggie said, hoping Hendrix would decide they’d gone far enough.
“Al’s got chores to do.”
“See you back at the house, Maggie,” Kate called as they trotted past.
Maggie waved and then urged her horse to go a little faster to catch up to Hendrix. As they neared the base of the hills, he reined in his horse and looked up at a flock of birds wheeling in the sky. “What’s the matter?”
“They’re over the Black Adder Ravine,” he replied thoughtfully. “Stay here while I take a look-see.”
“No. I’ll come, too,” she answered, not wanting to be left alone.
“Probably a cow fallen into the ravine. We’ll ride aways, then dismount when it gets too steep. You go ahead of me.”
The higher they climbed, the steeper the ravine fell away on their left side, and Maggie was glad that Angel was very surefooted on the loose gravel of the narrow road. She made an effort not to look down. After awhile, she stopped and let Hendrix catch up. “I think I’d better get down,” she told him.
Hendrix nodded and steadied Angel while Maggie slid down the animal’s flank. “We’ll leave ’em tethered here.” He dismounted, took the reins of the two horses and fastened them to one of the saplings that lined the cliff side of the road, and they began plodding upward. Getting as close to the edge as she dared, Maggie craned her neck to get a better look at the top of the craggy mountain that towered over them.
“This road is literally cut out of the side of the mountain,” she said in wonder. “Where does it lead?”
“An old mine. Hasn’t been worked for at least fifty years, to my knowledge.” For another five minutes, he led the way up the road, then suddenly stopped and pointed down into the ravine. “Christ! There’s a Jeep down there.”
Maggie stopped beside him. The Jeep was upside down, and a man’s body lay on the rocks beside it. She grabbed Hendrix’s arm. “We’ve got to get down there.”
“No. We’ll go back to the ranch for help. Come on.” He turned and ran down the road to where they’d left the horses. “Come on.” Maggie followed and when they reached the horses, he cupped his hand and helped her onto Angel
“You go on ahead,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”
“You sure?” And when Maggie nodded, he jumped onto his own horse and raced back down the track, and was soon a cloud of dust in the distance.
Saddle sore, she arrived at the ranch a few minutes after Hendrix to find everything in an uproar. Young Al came to help her down from the horse and then led it into the stable. As soon as Kate saw Maggie, she ran over to her.
“Maggie, you saw the man. Could it be Doug . . . ?”
“I really don’t know,
Kate,” she said, putting her arms around Kate’s shoulders. “Let’s go and talk to Hendrix,” she added, leading the way over to where he was giving orders to a ranch hand.
“We’ve got to get up there.” Maggie could hear the trembling in Kate’s voice. “Could it be Doug?” she asked Hendrix.
“We were too far away to tell, but as I said, I don’t think so. Anyhow, we’re sure as hell going to find out. Everything’s ready to go.” He turned as a ranch hand emerged at the top of the staircase that led to Hendrix’s barn loft office. “Bernie, you get ahold of the police?”
“Yep,” Bernie shouted back. “They’re on their way with the ambulance.”
“Kate,” Hendrix said, placing a large hand on her shoulder, “why don’t you and your friend stay here while we go and find out what’s happened?”
“No! I want to be there!”
“I’m coming, too,” Maggie said, pushing all thoughts of a lovely hot soak behind her.
“Then get into the Rover.” He headed for the stairs leading to his office. As they clambered into the back seats, Maggie saw that a jack and masses of ropes and pulleys had already been heaped into the rear of the vehicle. Al jumped into the passenger seat, and a few minutes later Hendrix returned, carrying a pair of binoculars. “Follow us with the Jeep,” he yelled at Bernie before jumping into the driver’s seat of the Rover.
By the time they had bumped and shuddered over the rough track and reached the steep gravel road that led up into the hills, Maggie was fervently wishing that her maiden voyage on the horse hadn’t been such a long one. Every bone in her body ached. Terrified they’d meet the same fate as the Jeep in the ravine, she clung to the seat in front of her as the vehicle veered close to the edge, its heavy tires biting into the loose gravel.
“You’ve been up here before?” Maggie yelled to Kate above the noise of the engine.
“This is where I took those photographs.”
When the vehicle came to a sudden, shuddering stop, the four of them scrambled out and peered over the edge. Hendrix, looking through the binoculars, gave a low whistle and silently offered them to Al.
In the Shadow of Death Page 3