Of course, that was definitely a murder. This isn’t, or so the lodge owner thinks, so I suppose that’s why no law enforcement personnel have been called to the lodge.
Her eyes slowly adjusted to the dimness in the room that had been Milt’s. She agreed with what Jack had told her. Nothing looked particularly suspicious. She didn’t see anything in the room that looked unusual. The bed appeared to have been slept in normally. Evidently Milt had planned on unpacking later, because the only thing that appeared to have been taken out of his suitcase was his dopp kit which was on the bathroom counter. An eye drop bottle was next to it along with a washcloth, a toothbrush, and toothpaste. His clothes were still neatly folded in his suitcase and nothing had been put in the room’s chest of drawers or the closet.
Liz put the dopp kit in his suitcase and noticed an attaché case next to it. She looked inside and saw a phone and an iPad. She turned them on and quickly scanned them to see if there had been any recent activity on either one. Evidently Milt had called his wife the evening before as the outgoing telephone number matched the one Roger had given her. There was nothing of interest on the iPad. She put them back in the attaché case.
Sam had been watching her while he was lying on a rug that partially covered the highly polished hardwood floor. She walked over to the nightstand and saw the bottle of beet juice which Milt had evidently put next to his bed along with a glass. The big dog suddenly got up and took a position between Liz and the nightstand, a low growl coming from deep in his throat. He gently pushed her away from the nightstand. She looked down at him. “What is this about, Sam? I just want to look at that bottle.” Again, he pushed against her, his nose flaring, and the guard hairs on his back raised.
“Sam, let me look at that bottle. I won't drink from it. Move. I need to get closer.”
It was as if the big dog understood every word she said. He slowly moved to one side, and she picked up the bottle. As she did she noticed a strong smell coming from it. She remembered that although Milt had said he added ground almonds to his drink to make it healthier, she didn’t remember the contents of the bottle having such an overpowering pungent smell like the one that was now emanating from the bottle. When she’d taken a sip of the beet juice the evening before, the smell was entirely different from what she now smelled. She screwed the cap back on the bottle, having no idea what to do next.
CHAPTER 10
Liz quietly closed the door to room eight and walked down the hall to her suite, the bottle in her hand. For some reason, blame it on her niggle, she’d felt compelled to take the beet juice bottle with her when she left Milt’s room. She had no idea what she was going to do with it, but something told her it was important that she have it. She sat down at the table in front of the large window that overlooked the well-groomed grounds at the lodge. Sam sat down next to her and looked up, a questioning look in his eyes.
It's almost as if he’s asking, “Okay, Liz, now that you have the bottle what are you going to do with it?” She unscrewed the cap and smelled it again. The odor coming from it disgusted her. Once again Sam let out a low growl. The red liquid definitely had a strong smell, but she couldn’t identify it.
I don’t know anyone in Texas that can help me find out what’s in this bottle. I wonder what it is. It sure doesn’t smell like beets, and if I’m smelling ground almonds, he must have put an awful lot of them in there.
Liz sat for several more minutes trying to figure out what to do with it. She reached for her cell phone which was on the table and punched in the telephone number for Gordon Mortuary. An almost ghoulish sounding voice on the other end answered and said, “Gordon Mortuary. This is Selene. May I help you?”
The voice sounded like it was waiting for the caller to give directions to where the next dead body was to be picked up, Liz thought. “Yes, my name is Liz Langley. May I speak with Mr. Gordon?”
“May I tell him what this is regarding?” Selene asked.
“Yes. This is regarding the death of Milt Huston. Mr. Gordon left the Big T Lodge an hour or so ago and asked me to call him after I talked to the decedent’s widow.”
“Just one moment. I'll see if he’s available,” Selene said.
A few moments later a male voice said, “This is Stanley Gordon, Mrs. Langley. Were you able to contact Mrs. Huston?”
“I called her, but evidently she’s taken her parents, who are visiting from Italy, on a sightseeing trip. The message said she’d be out of town for a few days. I didn’t leave a message, because I felt she wouldn’t want to hear news like that on an answering machine. I do have a question for you. I have something I’d like to send by FedEx or UPS. Does the town where you’re located have a facility that provides a service like that?”
“Yes, you can either go to the post office on Main Street in Riley or go one street over to Elm Street, and there’s a private mail box service there that has FedEx. A lot of the ranchers in the area have post office boxes there, because it's simply easier to have their mail sent there rather than to their remote ranches. They generally send in one of the ranch hands several times a week to get their mail. You can easily find it.”
“Thanks. Jack said there were several cars available for use by the guests, and he specifically told me since I wasn’t hunting, I was more than welcome to use any of them. I think I’ll drive into town later, take care of my business at the FedEx store, and then explore the town a little bit. I probably need to pick up some souvenirs from this trip.”
“Don’t get too excited hoping you’ll find things,” Stanley Gordon said. “I’d be willing to bet this is one of the smallest towns you’ve ever been in. There’s a grocery store, our mortuary, the post office, the private post office, The Riley Restaurant, and a couple of stores that sell ranch items. Trust me, Dallas it ain’t.”
“Thanks for your honesty, but I think I’ll go the FedEx store anyway. When I finally get in touch with Milt’s widow, I’ll let you know what she says.”
“Good. I’ll look forward to hearing from you. Tell your husband I hope he has a good hunt.”
“I will,” Liz said as she ended the call.
CHAPTER 11
Liz heard the sounds of the ATVs as they returned the guests to the lodge. She put the bottle of red juice in her suitcase and said, “Come on Sam, let’s go greet Roger. I need to get some breakfast.”
They’d just reached the bottom of the stairs when Roger walked through the front door. He walked over and hugged her. “How bad was it?” he asked.
“It’s been taken care of. I’ll tell you all about it later on. I’m starving, and I imagine you are too. How was the hunt?”
“I’ll tell you about it over breakfast. Let’s go into the dining room.” Once they were in the dining room they sat down at one of the tables, and a waiter immediately brought them coffee.
“My name’s Jesse,” he said. Liz looked up at him and thought how appropriate it was that he was wearing jeans, a button down blue denim shirt and a red kerchief around his neck. Jack had said all of the staff would be at the hunt, so she assumed if he’d been there he must be a great quick change artist.
There was no doubt in Liz’s mind they were in the land of cowboys, and Jesse portrayed the look well. He handed each of them a menu and asked if they’d like some fresh squeezed orange juice. They both replied in the affirmative and moments later two chilled glasses of fresh orange juice were placed on the table. “Are you ready to order or would you like a few more minutes?” he asked.
“I think we’re ready,” Liz said. “I love salmon, and the salmon eggs benedict sounds delicious, but I'm a little concerned about how fresh the salmon is given that we're in a very remote area of Texas.”
“Not to worry, Mrs. Langley. Mr. Mercer has it flown in fresh daily. I think you'll be pleased with it.”
“I trust your judgment. That’s what I’ll have. Thank you.”
“And for you, sir?” he asked turning towards Roger.
“I’ve never had venis
on before. I see you have venison hash on the menu. Do you think it’s something I’d like?”
“I can only speak for myself,” Jesse said. “It’s one of my favorites. It’s a traditional type of hash with potatoes, onions, red peppers, and green peppers, but the meat is venison. It's topped with two fried eggs, or you can have them any way you’d like, and it’s accompanied by freshly baked sourdough bread.”
“You’ve sold me. I’ll take it, but I’d like my eggs poached. Thanks.”
“Okay, now that we’ve ordered, I want to hear all about the hunt,” Liz said.
“No, first I want to hear if you were able to get ahold of Milt’s widow and if the mortuary people came.”
“Not much to tell. I called the number you had on your phone for his wife, but she wasn’t there. Evidently her parents are visiting from Italy, and she took them on a little trip. I didn’t feel comfortable leaving a death message on her answer phone, so I decided to try again tomorrow. The mortuary picked up Milt’s body, and for all intents and purposes, that chapter is closed. Now about the hunt.”
“It was very interesting” Roger said. “As you know, we left before dawn. Actually, I would prefer to hunt when it’s light. Guess it’s having practiced law too long, but I have to admit I was afraid some yahoo would think he saw something and fire his gun in the dark. Anyway, there were two guests plus a guide in each duck blind. The guide uses a duck call to get the ducks to come into our area. The dog that was assigned to our duck blind was a black Labrador retriever by the name of Snoopy. Don’t even ask why he has that name. I have no idea. He’s there to retrieve the birds, so he lies down on the ground next to the blind while the hunters sit on a bench inside the duck blind.”
“So, how does it work?” Liz asked.
“Using his duck call, the guide calls the ducks. All of a sudden there’s a bunch of flapping wings and each of us stood up and started shooting. And in answer to your unasked question, yes, I did get a couple. I’d been worried I’d totally embarrass myself, but I made a credible showing. Anyway, when one of us got a duck, Snoopy would hear the splash in the marshy area in front of the blind, and he’d race out and retrieve the duck. Then we’d watch for another flight of ducks, and we’d do it again.”
“Okay, it’s not my thing, but I’m glad you had a good time. I’ve got a question. Even though there’s a river and a lake, this is pretty dry land. You mentioned a marsh. How can there be a marsh around here?”
“Good question. Jack created it from the lake you see from our suite. It’s actually quite a large lake, and at the far end he’s built some small dams that make that area kind of like a marsh or a swamp. Jack had ten duck blinds built, all far enough apart from each other to be safe from gunfire coming from a nearby blind. It’s really quite an engineering project. Ah, here comes Jesse. I am definitely starving.”
Both of them were quiet as they focused on breakfast. Roger was the first to finish. “Liz, why don’t you stay here and finish your coffee? I need to go up to the room for a couple of minutes. The quail hunt begins after breakfast, and Jack told us to meet him in the great room when we’d finished breakfast. Sorry for leaving you, but I want to wash up, and I have to change clothes before we take off again. As Jack told us last night, they’re serving us lunch while we’re out in the field, and then we’ll hunt till around 4:30 or so. Try and stay out of trouble, although as big as Sam is and as attached to you as he’s become, don’t think that’s going to be a problem.” He stood up from the table and lightly kissed her on the cheek.
“Good hunting and enjoy,” Liz said. “You deserve it. I may go into town and see what wonderful things they have, although I’ve been told if you blink your eyes you’ll miss it. Even so, I’d kind of like to get the lay of the land. See you tonight.”
CHAPTER 12
During breakfast, Liz decided what she was going to do with the bottle of beet juice she’d taken from Milt’s room. She walked up to their suite, Sam beside her, and took her laptop computer out of its carrying bag and booted it up. Moments later she was emailing Sean, a private investigator who was on the staff of Roger’s law firm at their San Francisco office. He’d been immensely helpful in providing information to her about possible suspects in several murder cases in which she’d been involved.
In her email she explained what had happened to Milt and about the bottle of liquid she’d found next to his bed. She told him she was sending it to him by FedEx and asked him to have it analyzed. She wrote that Milt had told Roger and her the night before that he drank beet juice with some ground almonds in it twice a day, and he thought he could really feel the benefits. Liz wrote that Milt had offered her a taste of it the evening before, and she’d thought it was horrible. She went on to tell him that the bottle next to Milt’s body had an unusual smell to it which she hadn’t noticed the night before, and for what it was worth, the bullmastiff who had befriended her growled every time the top was off of the bottle. Liz pressed send, and then she decided to change into some more comfortable clothes before she drove into town.
A few moments later her laptop chimed, indicating there was a message on it. She read what Sean had written.
“Good grief, Liz, you haven’t even been there twenty-four hours, and you’ve already found a dead body? What is it with you? And a bullmastiff befriending you? I've heard of dogs being chick magnets, but I’ve never heard of someone being a dog magnet, but then again you constantly surprise me. Might want to find out if the dog was ever involved in sniffing out drugs for some government agency like the police or army. Maybe he’s onto something.
I’ll personally walk it over to the lab as soon as I get it. They’re closed today, because the owner had a death in the family, but they should be open tomorrow, and our firm is such a good client, I don’t think I’ll have any problem getting the analysis to be a priority for them.
I have to tell you I have some concerns about all of this. I knew Milt, and I don’t know whether you’re aware of it or not, but he was a real health nut. He and I belonged to the same health club in downtown San Francisco, and I don’t think I was ever there without seeing him. He was also into eating really healthy food. I remember having lunch with him one time after we played racquet ball, and he told the waiter he was a vegan and didn’t eat animal products. He told the waiter to bring him something that would adhere to that. I remember it, because I felt pretty guilty having ordered a steak sandwich with French fries.
If I can get the bottle in question to the lab by tomorrow morning, I should have something for you by tomorrow afternoon. Again, be careful. I know only too well you have an incredible knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Keep that bullmastiff with you. He might be of some help. Tell Roger hi for me.”
Liz wrote him back, told him she’d be careful, and thanked him. She wrapped the bottle of beet juice in tissues and carefully put it in her purse, then she walked downstairs to the kitchen. The door to it was open, and she saw a man she assumed was the chef and the woman she had met earlier, Cassie Sowers.
“Hello again, Cassie.” She turned to the chef and extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Liz Langley, and I'm assuming from the chef’s jacket you’re wearing that you’re the one responsible for that delicious breakfast I finished a little while ago. I’m really looking forward to the next few days. I own a lodge and spa in Northern California, and I cook the evening meals for the lodge guests. If you have time, I’d love to talk to you about cooking for the guests here at the lodge.”
The portly and prematurely grey-haired man in the chef’s coat shook her hand and said, “I’m Wes Jackson, and I’d like that very much. I’m sure there’s much I can learn from you as well. I’ll be here this afternoon, and it’s pretty quiet around 1:00 or so. Perhaps we could talk then.”
“Wonderful. I’ll plan on it. I’m taking one of the cars and going into town. I have something I need to send by FedEx, and I also want to take Milt Huston’s attaché case and his suitcase to the mortuary,
so they can send it with the body. Anyway, it will give me a chance to see the countryside. Jack told me I could take one of the cars whenever I wanted.”
“Yes, that’s standard practice here at the lodge, particularly when one of the guests isn’t hunting, although that’s rarely the case. The keys are either in the ignition or under the floor mat. If you have a problem, let me know, and I’ll help you. I see you have a friend waiting for you just outside the door,” he said, motioning towards Sam. “He won’t come into my kitchen. Actually he likes me, but for some reason he and Cassie have never hit it off. Right, Cassie?”
“Right. He knows I prefer French toy poodles or cats to big old dogs like him. I think there must be something wrong with a dog that looks like a horse. Just ain’t normal, if you ask me.”
The affable chef laughed and waved goodbye, as Liz walked out of the kitchen.
“Sam, you stay here. I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” she said as she let herself out through the large front doors of the lodge. The big dog pretended he hadn’t heard a word she’d said and followed her out to the car. When she opened the door of the car, he jumped into the passenger seat, ready for riding shotgun into town. Liz laughed to herself knowing there was no way she could physically move the big dog once he’d decided to do or not do something.
CHAPTER 13
Liz looked around as she began her drive on the semi-improved dusty road to the small town of Riley, Texas. She saw a few cattle, but mainly the land next to the road on her drive consisted of miles and miles of dry grazing land broken only by an occasional fence constructed to keep the cattle from wandering onto another rancher’s land. She saw a few stands of trees that looked like they’d been deliberately planted as a windbreak to protect a ranch house from the fierce winds that occurred from time to time in that part of Texas. From the size of the houses, they looked like they’d probably been built for property managers or ranch hands. She certainly didn’t see anything as large and imposing as the Big T Lodge.
Murder at the Big T Lodge: A Liz Lucas Cozy Mystery Page 4