Angel quickened her pace as they neared the gurgling river, and when she reached it, stopped suddenly and bent her head to drink, causing Maggie to cling precariously to the saddle.
The dogs seemed to come out of nowhere. One moment Maggie and Angel were alone, and the next three huge German shepherds were rushing at them, snarling and baring their fangs. Trembling with fright, Angel reared back and then plunged headlong into the forest, with Maggie clutching onto the saddle for dear life. The dogs kept pace with them, snapping at the terrified horse’s legs. Suddenly, there were a couple of shrill whistles, and as quickly as the dogs had appeared, they were gone.
The track, as it ran between the river and the trees with their low hanging branches, was narrow and rutted. “Whoa! Whoa!” Maggie screamed. But Angel, nostrils flaring, her ears laid back, was beyond hearing. She had but one thought, and that was to get as far away as possible. Petrified, Maggie clung to her mount’s neck as the tree branches whipped and slashed at horse and rider. Head bowed, she had no way of seeing or ducking the low cedar branch, and it sent her flying backward to land on the dirt track. Angel, now free of Maggie’s weight, bolted onward and out of sight.
For a while, Maggie lay on her back before daring to assess the damage. But apart from a lump quickly forming on her forehead and a dull pain in her back, there seemed nothing seriously wrong. She pulled herself to a sitting position, but had to wait several minutes for the wave of nausea to pass. Then, crawling over to the riverbank, she bathed her face in the icy cold water.
“Angel?” she called out but heard nothing. She got shakily to her feet, whimpering as her bruised back protested. She took a deep breath and willed herself to lurch forward. The trail was difficult, and Maggie could see the broken branches that the panic-stricken animal had left in her wake. She just prayed Angel had stopped running before she hurt herself seriously.
The sun never penetrated through the trees here, and the stones in the shallow river were green and slimy, the mosquitoes and blackflies numerous. As she stumbled along, batting at the insects that were making a bid for her blood, she realized what a precarious position she was in. Her head and back were throbbing, no one knew where she was, and she wouldn’t know what to do for Angel if she found the horse badly hurt. She had to steel herself not to give in to self-pity. “Pull yourself together,” she said out loud. “You’ve got yourself in this mess, now get yourself out of it.” She followed in Angel’s wake for almost half an hour before she saw sunlight ahead, and with renewed effort, she slogged toward it and out into the open.
Angel, covered in sweat and pulling at the reins that had become tangled in a thorn bush, was only about fifty feet ahead, but as Maggie approached, the horse whinnied and reared back in fright. “Easy, girl, easy.” Maggie put out a tentative hand. “You’re okay,” she continued in a soothing voice. “Just let me untangle you and we’ll go back.”
The horse whinnied again, the sound sending a flock of birds wheeling into the air. As Maggie watched their flight toward the steep cliffs, she realized where she was. Black Adder Ravine! Quickly, she untangled Angel’s reins, then tethered her to a tree near the stream’s edge, where she could crop the grass. Then she climbed up on a boulder to survey the area ahead. It was a lonely, quiet place, covered in huge rocks, scrub trees, bushes and a few stunted firs. She couldn’t help thinking that the place could live up to its name, and that there might really be snakes hiding among the sun-warmed rocks. So where’s the Jeep? She would have to clamber up the side of the ravine if she wanted to locate it. Gritting her teeth against the increasing pain in her back, she forced her reluctant legs to climb, sending sand and pebbles skittering to the bottom. There it is! It was only another hundred yards ahead.
“I’ll be back, Angel,” she called.
Approaching the vehicle, Maggie realized that it was not completely upside down, but was tilted slightly off the ground by a huge slab of stone. Her mind returned to the previous day, when she had looked through the binoculars and seen the man spread-eagled on the rock beside it. The weather having remained dry, the bloodstains were still visible on its surface. Climbing around the Jeep, she spotted a flap of rubber on the front left tire. I wonder. Of course it could have been cut on a rock on the way down, but I bet there’s a bullet in there. Unless the cops have already found it. She pushed her fingers down until she could feel the slack inner tube, but there was no sign of a bullet.
She returned to the driver’s side, and kneeling on the ground, she managed to wriggle herself up into the interior to run her hands over the leather seats. By the look of the ragged hole in the driver’s seat back, she realized that the bullet that killed the man must have gone right through him and into the upholstery. She reached a hand around the seat and felt along the back of it until she found a corresponding hole, then scanned the area behind the seat. There were pry marks around a hole in the frame. The police definitely found that one.
Before backing out, she noticed a short length of leather thong dangling from the space beneath the driver’s seat, and reaching up, she tugged on it. When it wouldn’t come free, she reached beyond the edge of the seat, and her fingers closed over a small soft object caught in the coil springs. She tried to pull it free, but it took several minutes before she was able to get it untangled and she could hold it in her hands. Then, sliding out from under the vehicle, she examined her find—it was a small leather pouch. As her fingers went instinctively to undo the metal press studs, she heard the rattle of falling stones and looked up toward the road high above the ravine. A deer? Then there was a sudden glint, as if the sun had shone on a piece of glass.
Thwack! The sound made her jump. Thwack! My God! Someone’s shooting at me! Pushing the pouch into her jeans pocket, she dived down in front of the Jeep. But who would be shooting at me? She crawled to the far side of the Jeep. Thwack! This time the bullet was nearer to its target. She scuttled back to the front of the vehicle. Whoever was doing the shooting knew they had her pinned down. Okay, Nat, what do I do now? This guy must have a telescopic sight to be so accurate. She leaned back against the radiator to assess the situation. There was nothing for it: she had to get over to the base of the cliff and out of the line of fire. She peered around the vehicle again to see what cover there was. Whang! This shot hit the metal rim of the right back wheel, leaving it slowly rotating from the force of the bullet. If I can crawl down the left side and over to that large boulder . . . She risked taking another quick peek and again saw the glint as the sun hit a telescopic lens. Ah, yes. Got you. You must be hiding up there in those bushes, you son of a bitch. She started to crawl along the left side of the Jeep toward the flat rock where the body had lain. If I can make it to the other side of that . . . Heart racing, limbs trembling, she counted . . . one . . . two . . . three . . . and lunged. The next bullet sent slivers of razor-edged rock flying into the air, making her cry out in pain as a splinter buried itself in her arm, but her lunge had taken her to the sheltered side of the rock. Again bending into a crouching position and keeping her head down, she sprinted for the thicket. Landing face first in the tangled brush, she hid there only a moment before scuttling along the base of the cliff, expecting to feel a bullet in her back at any minute. The rifle did crack again, its sound reverberating around the walls of the ravine, but the sniper had lost sight of his target. Stooping low, she raced over to where Angel was pawing and snorting at this new terror.
“Easy, easy.” Grabbing the horse’s reins, she ran back to the track, through the woods, the horse trotting skittishly behind. Once they were safely hidden, she found a rock to stand on, put her foot in the stirrup and painfully hauled herself up. “Home, girl. And this time, carefully.”
She held the reins tightly as Angel picked her way back over the track, and after half an hour saw sunlight ahead where the forest petered out. “Whoa, girl.” Whoever had been sniping at her would have had time to come around the mountain and be waiting here for her. Cautiously slipping off the horse’s b
ack, she risked taking a peek. But to her relief, the person waiting for her was Al, sitting astride his mare at the junction of the two tracks and peering through binoculars in the opposite direction.
Leading Angel, Maggie urged her out into the open and started up the incline toward him. “Al!” She had to scream his name a second time before he finally saw her.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Al yelled as he rode closer to the bedraggled pair. “My God, what the hell happened to you?”
“Angel was spooked . . . by three dogs . . . she bolted,” she gasped.
“Dogs?”
“Angel ran into the forest . . . and a tree branch hit me . . . it wasn’t her fault.”
“What kinda dogs?”
“German shepherds. They were vicious.”
“Jock Macleod’s. Dad’s warned him about those damned dogs. Come on, let’s get you back to the house.” He swung off his mount and cupped his hands to help her up onto Angel.
“Did you see anyone coming down the mine road?” she asked.
“No. I just got here.”
“He must still be up there, then,” she said fearfully.
“Who?”
“The man with the gun.” She hesitated. “I had to go right through to the ravine before I caught Angel. And . . . and someone was on the road above . . . with a gun.”
Al shrugged. “Probably somebody deer hunting out of season. Come on, let’s get back.”
But the out-of-season hunted was me! She decided not to enlighten him.
• • •
“WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?” Kate greeted her when she finally arrived back at the house. “Are you hurt?”
“A branch knocked me off the horse.” She hobbled across the kitchen. “I’ll tell you all about it after I’ve patched myself up and changed.”
Maggie pulled her jeans and shirt off, letting them fall on the floor, then staggered into the bathroom. Too tired to shower, she washed the mud off her face and hands, struggled into clean clothes and then, lying down on the bed, closed her eyes. The tapping on the door woke her.
“Maggie, lunch is ready.”
“Thanks, Kate.” She bent down to scoop up the dirty clothes from the floor and felt the lump in her pants pocket. The pouch! And pulling it out of the pocket, she sat down on the side of the bed and popped open the metal press studs. “My God!” The bills—old ones, by the look of them—in denominations of thousands, five hundreds and hundreds were all rolled up and squashed inside it. She laid them out on the bed and counted them. There’s eight thousand dollars here. Why was it hidden under the seat? Carefully, she pushed the money back into the pouch, then stowed it in the top drawer of the dresser. So that’s why I was shot at. Somebody didn’t want me finding the money. “I’ve got to talk to Nat.”
• • •
“YOU LOOK A LOT BETTER,” Kate remarked when Maggie reappeared downstairs. “Al told me about Jock Macleod’s dogs. We’ll tell Brossard about it when he comes in the morning.”
“Brossard!”
“I think he’s taking Douglas’ disappearance seriously, considering that a body’s turned up.”
“Kate, I haven’t told you everything that happened this morning.”
“You said Angel was spooked and . . . ”
It was obvious Kate didn’t want to hear any more bad news, but Maggie knew she had to tell her the rest of the story. “I was shot at.”
“Shot at! You must be mistaken.”
“No. There was no mistaking those shots.” She recounted all that had happened—except finding the money pouch.
“I don’t understand,” Kate exclaimed when Maggie had finished. “Why would anyone shoot at you? Maybe somebody thought you were a deer . . . ”
“Not a chance,” Maggie said. “I think whoever it was didn’t take too kindly to me looking over that Jeep.”
Kate slumped into a chair. “I don’t suppose you’ll want to help me now?”
“Why not? It probably has nothing to do with your husband’s disappearance. Someone just wanted to frighten me off.” Gingerly, she down at the table, grateful that the chairs were padded. “But I still have to talk to my boss.”
“I don’t know what your rates are, but I’ll pay whatever it costs.”
“I’ll phone Nat and discuss it,” Maggie answered.
“We’re on a party line,” Kate said. “Our signal is two longs and a short.”
“A party line? Does that mean that people can listen in?”
She nodded. “But you can usually tell if someone’s listening. It’s sort of echoey. The best time to call is late at night. You’re more or less safe then . . . unless someone has insomnia.”
“I don’t think I’ll wait that long. Can I borrow the Rover to take a quick trip into Williams Lake?”
Kate nodded. “I’ll come with you.”
Maggie pulled a notepad out of her pocket. “Before we go,” she said, “I want to go over a few things. First, have you a photograph of your husband?” The silver-framed photograph that Kate produced showed a tall, dark-haired man sporting a beautiful tan, a boutonniere and perfect white teeth. He had a protective arm around the diminutive Kate in the picture, who was dressed in some gauzy fabric that blew prettily in the wind.
“Your wedding?”
“Yes,” Kate answered. “We were very happy,” she added wistfully.
“We’ll find him,” Maggie said in a firm voice. “Now, while I go upstairs and grab my handbag, I want you to take this pad and make a list of your husband’s friends, acquaintances and family.”
“Do you want Ray Teasdale and Nordstrom and Kraft’s addresses too?”
“Who are Nordstrom and Kraft?”
“Jamie’s bosses. Albert Nordstrom’s known Douglas for years.”
“He’s the one that deals in mines and things?”
“I think he does something with money,” Kate answered vaguely.
“You mean a brokerage firm?”
“Something like that.”
“He sounds like a good one to contact. Just write all the names down.” And she left the room.
CHAPTER FOUR
The Rover had travelled less than a half mile along the lakeside road when a car driven by Vivienne Harkness sped toward them, sending spumes of choking dust into the air as it passed. Momentarily blinded, Kate edged the car off the road. “Wonder why she’s in such a hurry?”
As the dust settled, Maggie turned in her seat to look back. “Funny,” she said, “there’s no sign of her on the road now.”
“Probably turned into our place,” Kate answered.
“But she can see you’re not there!”
“Oh, she won’t be coming to visit. You see, the lake’s kidney-shaped. We’re on the southern bulge and the Harknesses are on the northern one, so it’s much shorter to cross our land than follow the lake road.”
“You don’t mind?”
Kate shrugged. “They’ve been using the back road away before I came on the scene,” she answered, putting the Jeep into gear.
The only public telephone in the town was located outside the post office, and Maggie was lucky, as there was no one using it and she was through to her boss straightaway.
“A missing husband?” Nat said, when she’d finished telling him about Guthrie’s disappearance. “Husbands go off on benders all the time. Why not find another place if you’re so determined to stay up in there in the wilderness. A hotel or something.”
“It’s not that simple, Nat.”
“What do you mean?”
“I . . . we sort of found a body. Up in a ravine.”
“A body?” he exclaimed. “How could you sort of find a body?”
“I was out riding and we found a Jeep that had gone over a cliff . . . ” The line was so quiet that as Maggie related what had happened, she thought he’d hung up. But when she got to the bit about watching the police haul the dead man up the side of the cliff, she heard an audible sigh of relief.
/> “So the police have got it all in hand.”
“Well-l-l, not quite,” she answered.
“Don’t tell me. There’s more?”
“We still don’t know who the dead man is, and then there’s the business of me being shot at.”
“Shot at!” She held the phone away from her ear until his spluttering stopped. “What do you mean, shot at?”
She filled him in on her frightening escapade.
“What did the police have to say about this?”
“I haven’t told them yet.”
“Bloody hell, Maggie! Call them right away and then pack your bags and get back here.”
“Can’t do that. I’ve promised to help Kate.”
“You won’t be able to help anyone if you’re dead!”
“The reason I was shot at has absolutely nothing to do with Guthrie’s disappearance.”
“How do you work that out? Women’s intuition?”
Maggie decided to let that one pass. “No. It’s because of the money.”
“What money? You didn’t mention any money.” His voice seemed to be reaching fever pitch again.
“I found some. Quite a lot, in fact. Large bills, too. I’m not sure what it all means yet. Can’t tell you any more over the phone.” Then, before he could butt in again, she continued. “I told Kate I had to talk to you first before we took the case. After all, you’re the boss.”
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