She answered on the third ring. After introducing himself, he asked if she knew that her ex was missing.
“Yes,” she answered. “Jamie called and told me.”
“He hasn’t contacted you?”
“Why on earth would he?” she replied. “We’d gone our separate ways long before we finally split up.”
“You weren’t keen on the Cariboo, I take it,” Nat persisted.
She laughed. “That’s an understatement, Mr. Southby. I don’t like horses, I don’t like ranches and by the time I left Douglas, I didn’t like him either.”
“Do you mind telling me why?”
She was quiet for a moment. “He was a good father to the kids. Christine adores him and blames me for the breakup, but he has quite a roving eye. Have you met Vivienne Harkness?”
“No, not yet.”
“Well, watch out. Femme fatale, or she thinks she is.” She chuckled in a very pleasing, husky voice. “Anyway, from what Christine’s told me, he’s dumped Vivienne and got himself a wife young enough to be his daughter.”
“Kate,” Nat answered. “She’s the one who hired us to find him.”
“Jamie said she’d hired someone.” She paused for a moment. “Going back to your query, Mr. Southby, it wasn’t just his women I objected to. It was that bloody gold mine. He left me on my own for weeks at a time, and the guys he was in partnership with . . . they were a pretty rough crowd. Gave me the creeps, if you really want to know.”
“I’ve heard about the mine,” Nat answered. “Wasn’t there some kind of explosion?”
“Yes. Doug swore that he had nothing to do with it, but it still left a nasty feeling. If you get my meaning.” She didn’t wait for an answer but went straight on. “Actually, George Fenwick was the nicest one in that bunch.”
“But according to Albert Nordstrom, Fenwick was a rough character and a heavy drinker,” Nat said in surprise.
“George liked his beer, it’s true. But rough . . . no way.”
“I understand he and Chandler wanted to go on mining when Douglas closed shop?”
“Well, yes, of course, they needed to. They’d put everything they owned into that mining venture,” she answered. “Without it they were dead ducks. George used to talk to me quite a lot,” she explained.
“Then he got himself killed,” Nat said quietly.
“Yes,” Debra Wright answered. “George was killed, Chandler went to jail, and that just left the other four.” She paused. “And that’s when I got out.”
“Did you know that Sarazine was killed in an accident last week?”
“No, I didn’t.” She stopped abruptly. “Look Mr. Southby, I think I’ve said enough. My husband wants me to put all that stuff behind me.”
After replacing the phone, Nat drew his yellow pad toward him. He and Maggie had a lot to discuss when he saw her on Monday.
• • •
MAGGIE SPREAD THE SHEET of paper out on the bed. It appeared to be the first page of a contract dated September 10, 1950, to buy Friendly Freddie’s Used Cars, a dealership in North Vancouver. But it was the name of the law firm that jumped out at her. Snodgrass, Crumbie and Spencer. Harry’s firm! Quickly, she read the rest of the page. I need to go back and get the rest of those papers. But the thought of returning to the old mine by herself made her flesh crawl. I’ll wait until Nat gets here. But . . . A new thought came to her. Harry can tell me about it! I’m sure he must remember!
She waited until that evening to call him.
“Margaret, thank God! You got my message, then?”
“Message, Harry? No.”
“I told that . . . that . . . Southby person that there was an emergency . . . ”
“Has something happened to one of the girls?” she asked in alarm.
“No. It’s Mother. She’s having an operation on her feet.”
“Oh, nothing serious. Well, that’s a relief. Now Harry, the reason I’m calling . . . ”
“Nothing serious? I’m talking about my mother, Margaret!”
“You’ll need to get a nurse to stay with her. Harry, do you remember having a client about nine years ago named Leonard Smith?”
“What are you talking about, Margaret?”
“You had a client named Leonard Smith,” she repeated slowly. “You negotiated the purchase of a car dealership for him.”
“You can’t expect me to remember clients of nine years ago! And you should know better, Margaret. I can’t divulge any information on clients, past or present. Especially if it’s for that man you work for.” She heard him take a deep breath and waited for it. “And your attitude toward my poor suffering mother is . . . is absolutely uncalled for.”
“I’m sorry if she’s in pain, Harry.” Maggie felt like a bit of a heel. “How’s Emily?” But the phone had gone dead.
I guess I’ll just have to wait until Nat gets here. There was no way she was going to call him and broadcast everything she had learned about the mine, the money or Leonard Smith over the party line phone.
CHAPTER NINE
The train was three hours late, and by the time it had chugged into the station in the gathering darkness and disgorged its passengers, Maggie was sure that Nat had missed it, anyway. She was turning away, bitterly disappointed, when she heard his voice. “Maggie, Maggie!” Whirling around, she saw him jump from the train. “Fell asleep,” he explained, taking her in his arms and giving her a fierce hug. “God, it’s good to see you.”
“I’ve so much to tell you,” she said, pointing to the Land Rover parked under the street lamp outside the station, “but you look so tired.”
“I’m just about all in,” he replied. “There was a huge rock slide just before Squamish. It’s been one hell of a journey.” Automatically he opened the driver’s door of the vehicle. “Do you want me to drive?” he asked.
“Typical man,” she laughed. “No. You can sit back and grit your teeth.” She waited until they were out of the town and heading toward the Horsefly Road before she began telling him about her visit to the mine, her descent to the underground cavern, finding the old cooler and the money.
“You went back up there on your own,” he said angrily, “after I told you not to?” He paused for breath. “Maggie, suppose you’d had an accident? Or someone took another shot at you? Did you think about that?”
“Calm down,” she answered, gripping the wheel. “I didn’t have an accident, and I had to find out what was up there.” She felt in her jacket pocket and withdrew the folded paper she had taken from the briefcase. “Read this.”
He turned on the dashlight and leaned forward to read, then sat back thoughtfully. “Where have I heard that name before?”
“Think back nine years.”
“Jeez! Of course.” He gave a low whistle. “My God! The Leonard Smith abduction. Maggie, my girl, what have you stumbled onto?”
“When I noticed that Harry’s law firm was acting for Smith, I called him . . . ”
“But he wouldn’t enlighten you . . . ”
“That’s right. Just went on and on about his mother and her poor feet.”
“Ah yes! The bunion file.” He paused, then continued carefully, “Harry called on me. Wanted your phone number.”
“You didn’t give it to him? ” she asked in alarm.
“No. Told him you were working on a case. Can’t say he was too happy with me. Now about Smith,” he continued, gripping the door handle as they rounded a bend. “Easy there, Maggie. As far as I can remember, Smith owned car dealerships, food marts and that sort of thing. I think he got his start buying up scrap metal before the war.”
“Then he was kidnapped,” Maggie said.
“Yes. From the parking garage in the basement of his office building. The ransom money—$750,000 I think—was paid, but he was never returned.” Carefully he refolded the paper. “I was on the force at the time, and there was one helluva stink because the abductors not only got the ransom money, but also disappeared without a trace.”
“And now I’ve come upon his briefcase in the old mine, and by the look of it, what’s left of the ransom money.” She drove in silence for a few moments. “I wonder if his body is somewhere in that mine, too.”
“You didn’t go looking for it, did you?” Nat asked in alarm.
“I’m not that brave,” Maggie said.
They were silent until Nat said, “We never even got a whiff of a lead. He just seemed to vanish into thin air.”
“Do you think Douglas Guthrie’s disappearance has anything to do with the kidnapping?”
“Mmm. Nine years ago? That’s just about the time his first wife was leaving him and they closed the mine at Shadow Lake.”
Maggie slowed to make the Horsefly Road turnoff. “You’d better hang on. This road’s full of potholes. What have you been up to since I spoke to you?”
“Ow!” The Rover had found a pothole.
They were almost at the ranch before he’d finished telling her about his phone call to Debra Wright, his visits to Nordstrom, Teasdale and Guthrie’s mother. She laughed so hard at the graphic details of his visit to Sara Guthrie and of Henny playing detective that she had a job to concentrate on her driving. “From what you’ve just told me,” she said, slowing as the headlights revealed another pothole, “there certainly appears to be another side to Douglas Guthrie. And it seems,” she added, “to be one that Kate doesn’t know anything about.”
“Well, this is it,” she said as they turned into the Guthrie’s drive. “You’ll feel much better after a shower and some food. Kate said she’d keep some supper for you.”
“I thought I was staying in one of the cabins.”
“You are. But Kate insists you eat with us in the house.”
“But when do I get to see you alone?” he asked plaintively.
“I’ll come and tuck you in,” she answered with a laugh. She showed him to his cabin and left him to unpack and have a cleanup. “Be as quick as you can.” Maggie gave him a light kiss. “Kate’s anxious to meet you.”
“Have you found out anything new?” Kate asked, as soon as the introductions were over.
“Just a little,” he hedged, sitting down at the table. “But I need to be brought up-to-date on everything that’s happened here first.”
“I don’t think the police are any further ahead,” she answered sadly. “I’m just hoping that you’ll have more success.”
“Well, the first thing I need,” Nat said, hungrily helping himself to the food Kate had put in front of him, “is a good night’s sleep. Then I’ll be able to tackle anything.” He gave a tired smile to Kate. “I hope you don’t mind if we talk in the morning.” Having been warned by Maggie that Kate was a blabbermouth, he was not about to tell her anything she didn’t need to know, and while they ate, she rambled on, rehashing all the events to date.
Afterwards, Maggie accompanied him to his cabin. “Just look at those stars, Nat! Let’s sit outside for awhile,” she said, guiding him to the porch swing. “Do you think I should’ve told Kate what I found in the mine?” she asked, snuggling down beside him.
“No, not yet. Are you sure no one saw you go in?”
“The only person I saw was the man who stopped my horse, and he wasn’t anywhere near the mine. In fact, he . . . ”
“Stopped the horse?”
“Didn’t I tell you about the rock slide? I had so much to tell you,” she said, “I guess I completely forgot. The slide spooked poor Angel into bolting and this man ran into the road and grabbed her reins. I don’t know what would have happened if he hadn’t.”
“Rock slide? How did it start, for Chrissake?”
“It must’ve been the rain. How would I know?”
“What did this man look like?”
“Taller than you. Dark with a straggly beard. Wore one of those big western hats. I can’t remember anything else.” She thought for a moment. “Oh, yes. He had an old white truck parked in the trees, and he drove off in it afterwards.”
“Did he look anything like this?” He took Chandler’s photograph out of his wallet and passed it to her.
“A bit. But the man I saw had a beard. “I suppose it could be him.”
“Anything else you haven’t told me?” he asked, returning the mug shot to his wallet.
“No. Except he made a point of saying I wasn’t to tell anyone that I’d seen him.” Maggie stood up. “What’s the agenda for tomorrow?”
“Well, after I’ve spoken to this Hendrix, what say we visit the mine?”
“Fine,” Maggie said. “I’d better get back to the house.”
“Aren’t you coming in for a nightcap?” he asked, taking the key out of his pocket and unlocking the door. He pulled her inside the room.
“I thought you were absolutely all in and couldn’t wait for a good night’s sleep.”
• • •
IT WAS QUITE DARK when Maggie slipped quietly into the house and up to her room.
At breakfast the next morning, Kate was anxious for the three of them to have a sit-down discussion, but Nat put her off. “Before we do that,” he said, “I need to familiarize myself with the ranch, have a talk with Hendrix and possibly the police, and see for myself where that Jeep accident was.” He’d decided not to tell Kate about his growing suspicions that Douglas might have been seen in Vancouver. “By the way, I met your mother-in-law a couple of days ago,” he said.
“She’s quite something, isn’t she?” Kate gave a little giggle. “She doesn’t think much of me.”
“She’s much older than I expected,” Nat answered.
“That’s because Douglas was a late-in-life baby,” Kate said. “She dotes on him. No woman is good enough for her boy. Even Debra didn’t come up to scratch, and she even provided the old biddy with a couple of grandchildren.”
“She really loves that television your husband gave her,” Nat said. “She’s already hooked on the soaps.”
“When did he give her that?” Kate asked, surprised.
“A few weeks ago, according to the nurse on duty.”
“No,” Kate said firmly. “We both went to see her on our last visit. He didn’t give her a TV then.”
“Perhaps he had it sent,” Maggie cut in. “Woodwards would be only too happy to oblige.”
“Yes,” Kate answered slowly. “Perhaps that’s it. But why didn’t he mention it to me?”
“I’m going over to talk to your manager, ” Nat said, getting up from the table. “I’ve a couple of questions to ask, then I want to borrow one of the Jeeps. Maggie’s going to show me where the accident happened.”
They found Hendrix in his office, and after introducing Nat, Maggie left them to it.
“You’ve been with Guthrie a long time,” Nat began.
“Yup. But before you start, I don’t know where he is.”
Unperturbed, Nat continued, “Kate told me that on the morning Guthrie disappeared, she heard the two of you talking outside the house.” Nat sat on one of the rickety chairs next to the desk. “Can you recall what it was about?”
“How the hell do you expect me to remember a conversation that happened . . . what . . . over two weeks ago?”
“It was the last day that Guthrie was here. You’d remember.”
“As far as I can recall, it was just things he wanted done while he was away.”
“Did you ever have anything to do with the mine?” Nat asked suddenly.
“The old mine up there? No, it was closed fifty years ago. Ain’t nothing up there.”
“No,” Nat said calmly. “I mean the Shadow Lake Mine.”
Hendrix looked startled. “Shadow Lake? Not me. I was too busy keeping the ranch going to get involved with that.”
“You did know the co-owners, though?”
“Yeah. They were all here at some time or other.”
“But Mrs. Spencer tells me you didn’t recognize this Sarazine when you helped haul his body out of the ravine.”
“Nobody would recognize yo
u either, Mr. Southby, if you’d been lying dead for at least three days in that ravine.” He gave a hoarse chuckle. “This area is still pretty uninhabited and there are plenty of wild animals around scavenging.” He paused. “Even grizzlies,” he added dramatically. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve work to do.”
“We need to borrow one of the Jeeps. Mrs. Spencer’s going to show me where the accident occurred.”
“You can take the one that’s out front. It’s been gassed up.”
Nat was impressed with the vastness of the Guthrie range. With Maggie driving, he had a chance to enjoy the spectacular scenery that seemed to change with every added mile. Just before they started up the mine road, Maggie pointed out the trail that cut through the forest to end in the ravine, and the dirt track where she had encountered the bearded man. She stopped the Jeep beside the site of the accident and they climbed out. The yellow tape still flapped in the gentle breeze, and Nat put a protective arm around her shoulders as they peered down into the ravine. He realized how easy it would have been for the sniper to have killed her from this vantage point. He mustn’t have intended to kill her. Just scare her off. Climbing back into the vehicle, they drove up to the mine.
First she showed him the boarded-up entrance, and then, leading the way to the side of it, showed him the track up to the top. “Have you got your flashlight?” she asked, before starting up. Nat nodded. “Okay, let’s go.” As she climbed the familiar path, she could hear Nat puffing away behind her.
“But where’s this trap door?” he asked, when they reached the flat stone above the mine.
“Over there, behind those little evergreens,” she said pointing. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
A minute later, they were standing beside it, and bending down, Maggie grasped the iron ring and yanked the trap door open to reveal the gaping hole.
Nat looked down into the dark escape hole. “Bloody hell! You went down there on your own?”
“It’s not so bad once you’re down there,” Maggie lied.
“You’d better go down first and hold the ladder for me,” Nat said. Though it had obviously been installed long after the mine was closed, it still looked a bit frail, and he didn’t like to admit that he was a mite claustrophobic when it came to caves or other small dark places.
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