Murder at the Big T Lodge: A Liz Lucas Cozy Mystery

by Dianne Harman

  “Quite frankly, I don’t know what to think. At this point we don’t even know the cause of Milt’s death, and from what Jack told me, since there were no signs of foul play, we may never know. Again, thanks for your honesty. I’m already looking forward to seeing what fabulous things we’ll be having for dinner tonight.” She put her hand on his arm. “If I do find out anything, I’ll let you know.”

  “Thanks, and if someone here at the lodge was involved in Milt’s death, maybe it’s the sign I need that I have enough money to take a chance on my dream and open up my own restaurant. We’ll see. Talk to you later.”

  CHAPTER 16

  After Liz left the kitchen she went up to her suite with Sam at her side. She felt unsettled by the morning’s events and decided to see if she could take a nap, hoping it would make her feel better. After tossing and turning with sleep eluding her, she knew that wasn’t the answer to making her feel better.

  Maybe I need some physical exercise instead of sleep. Jack told me last night there are a number of trails near the lodge and that Sam’s very good about making sure the guests don’t take a trail that might present some problems for them. He mentioned something about rattlesnakes and armadillos being in the area. I’ll definitely pass on both of those.

  She laced up her hiking boots and said, “Okay, Sam. Let’s see what kind of a tour dog you are.” The big dog stood up from where he’d been sleeping next to her bed and walked over to the door, waiting for her to open it.

  When she got to the bottom of the stairs she noticed that the kitchen door was open, and Chef Jackson was putting the finishing touches on some pies. “Chef, those look delicious. Are we having them for dinner?”

  “Yeah, it’s kind of a specialty of mine. They’re pecan pies for dessert. I’ll put them in the oven just before dinner and serve them warm with vanilla bean ice cream and a molasses bourbon sauce. They’re usually a pretty big hit with the guests.”

  “I can see why. That’s definitely something I’m looking forward to. Jack mentioned there were a number of trails that lead into the area surrounding the lodge. I thought I’d take Sam for a walk. I feel like I need to do something physical.”

  The chef laughed. “Liz, I don’t think you’ll be taking Sam for a walk. I think it’s more the other way around. Sam will be taking you for a walk. There are a few trails that aren’t really safe. Don’t think you want a run-in with an armadillo or a rattlesnake. For some reason they tend to favor certain trails. I can practically guarantee you that you’ll see some deer and jackrabbits, but they’re nothing to be afraid of. If anything, they’ll be running away from you. Enjoy your walk!”

  “Thanks. I don’t know how long we’ll be gone, but we’ll definitely be back in time for dinner. I wouldn’t miss that!”

  A few minutes later Liz understood why the chef had said Sam would be taking her for a walk. Several times she’d started to follow a trail only to have the big dog block her way. He was an unmovable mass of muscle, and there was no way she was going to walk down a trial if he didn’t want her to. Finally, she decided to simply follow his lead. He walked towards a trail and turned around and looked at her as if to say, “This one’s safe, Liz. Come on.” The old saying that went something like “When in Rome do as the Romans do” came to mind. Since this was definitely Sam’s territory, she figured she’d better do what he wanted her to do.

  The trail Sam had chosen for her led away from the barns and the kennels and into a black diamond crape myrtle forest. She imagined it was spectacular when it was fully in bloom. For the first time that day Liz felt like she usually did, upbeat, optimistic about life, and glad to be enjoying some private time with nature. The forest was huge, and as the chef had predicted, she saw some jackrabbits and deer. Sam was very well trained so as not to spook the animals, and he would stand perfectly still whenever he saw one, waiting for it to make the first move.

  Liz stopped for a moment and took a sip from the bottle of water she’d brought with her. Sam stopped as well. Liz caught a glimpse of something off to the side of the trail and realized it was a doe with two fawns. They hadn’t seen her, so she stood perfectly still watching them, regretting that she’d left her camera at the lodge. A moment later the observant doe spotted them, and the three deer loped off.

  Quite a bit later Liz looked at her watch and realized they’d been gone over two hours. She knew Roger would be returning to the lodge momentarily and would probably be worried if she wasn’t there. While she’d ambled slowly into the forest, now she quickly retraced her steps on the trail that led back to the lodge. Through the dense cover of the forest she could just make out the lodge in the distance. As she walked towards it she heard a voice speaking not too far from her.

  “Rick, trust me on this. Milt Huston is dead. With him out of the way I’m a slam dunk to be governor. I want you to prepare a press release. When I get back I’ll call a press conference, and we’ll get the ball rolling. I also want you to start sending out feelers for who we want to be on our team. Obviously, I want you to run the campaign. I’ll make it well worth your time. You’ve been lucky for me in the past.”

  The man who had been speaking was quiet, evidently listening to the voice on the other end of what Liz assumed was a phone that he was using. “How do I know he’s dead? He was here at the lodge last night, and then this morning the owner of the lodge, a guy name Jack, announced that Milt had an emergency come up, and he had to leave. When we were walking back to the ATVs after the morning duck hunt, I happened to overhear the owner talking to one of his guides. He said Milt died in his sleep last night, and the local mortuary was coming to pick up his body this morning. He asked the guide to call the chef at the ranch house and make sure the body was gone before he and the guides started taking the hunters back to the lodge for breakfast.

  “The body must have been gone because they loaded all of us in the ATVs a few minutes later. We just returned from the afternoon quail hunt, and I came out to the edge of the forest away from the lodge to call you. I didn’t want anyone to overhear me talking to you. Here’s what I want you to do. Try to nose around a little and see what the word is in Sacramento. Also see if there’s any rumor or word on the street that Milt has died.

  “I have no idea if his wife has been told. They’ve only been married a few months. If you don’t hear anything about it, might want to tell a few key people that you heard from a good source that Milt is dead. That should start the rumor mills going and prime the pump for my press conference. Look, I’ve got to go. I don’t want anyone to get suspicious about why I’m making a call out here and not in the lodge. I’ll call you tomorrow to see what you’ve found out.”

  The man talking on the phone was quiet for a moment and then said, “Yeah, I’m pretty stoked. Sure seems like some good karma to me. Milt dying so I can become governor, just like I’ve always wanted to. Later.”

  Liz had stepped off the trail and was standing behind a tree, not wanting whoever it was who had been talking to see her. She carefully peeked around the side of the tree and caught a glimpse of a large silver-haired man with a barrel chest hurrying back towards the lodge. She put her hand down and indicated to Sam that he was to stay. She stood there for several minutes, giving the man plenty of time to get back to the lodge.

  “Come on, Sam,” Liz said. “I’ve got to get back to the lodge and talk to Roger. Sure seems strange to me that the man I overheard talking on the phone who apparently wants to be governor of California just happened to be here at the lodge at the same time Milt was, and then Milt unexpectedly dies. I don’t know, but it all seems a little too convenient.”

  CHAPTER 17

  When Liz and Sam returned to the lodge, she hurried up to her room, hoping Roger had returned. Sam left her and looked for Jack, his inner clock telling him it was time for Jack to feed him his dinner. When she opened the door to their suite she heard the shower running and figured Roger was washing off the dust and grime from the quail hunt. A few moments later h
e opened the bathroom door and walked out.

  “Hi, sweetheart,” he said as he walked over and kissed her, “I still feel bad about leaving you to clean up what Jack should have taken care of himself. I know he’s supposed to be some big shot in the hunting world, but I think he really mishandled Milt’s situation.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” she said. I’ll tell you everything in a few minutes, and I do mean everything, but I want to hear how your first day as a hunter went. Did you get any quail? And I’m not sure if I’m using the right words.”

  “You are, and I did. I’ve owned a shotgun ever since I was a young man. Over the years I’ve gone out to the local trap and skeet range to practice. I’m actually a pretty good shot. However, this is a whole different ball game. You’ve got to be ready when the dog goes on point, because everything happens with lightning speed. It was pretty amazing. I was nowhere near the best shot among the hunters, but I did well enough that no one laughed, which I’d been worried about. Now, tell me about your day,” he said sitting down in one of the chairs that looked out at the lake.

  “I will in a minute, but I’m trying to understand exactly what goes on when you hunt quail. Was it kind of like the duck hunt this morning?”

  “Not at all. The quail are in a totally different type of terrain. We went to some open fields where Jack grows feed for his cattle. It was pretty much stubble. Anyway there were two hunters assigned to an area I’d say was about a couple of acres in size. There was a guide who gave the dog we were using, a German shorthair pointer by the name of Baron, instructions. The dog would run back and forth in front of us looking for quail. When the dog scented the smell of the quail he would stop and freeze, pointing his nose at the location where the quail were hidden from sight in the grass. We would slowly and carefully walk to the spot where the quail were hiding. When we got close to them they’d become nervous and would flush and attempt to fly away. That’s when we had an opportunity to shoot them.

  “When one or both of us shot a bird, the dog would run and bring it back to us. I know it doesn’t sound like I did much, but I walked more today than I’ve walked in a long time, and I’m really tired. Now what about your day?”

  For the next hour Liz relayed everything that had happened from the time Roger had left, including her conversation with Chef Jackson, and ending with the conversation she had just overheard in the forest. “Roger, do you have any idea who the man I saw in the forest might be?”

  “I’m pretty sure it was Mickey Roberts. Did he have silver hair and a big barrel chest?”

  “Yes. The man I saw was a big man with a barrel chest, and I have to say his hair was beautiful. A lot of women my age pay their hairdresser big bucks to have hair that color. I wonder if he dyes it.”

  “The thought never occurred to me. Jack introduced me to him today at lunch, saying we were both from California, so we should probably get to know each other. I talked to him for a while. He’s a California State Senator from Los Angeles, and he’s been in politics most of his life. He started out on a local school board and worked his way up from there. Jack told me he wouldn’t be surprised if he became the governor of California someday.”

  “Well, based on what I heard, that certainly seems to be uppermost in his mind. Do you know anything else about him?”

  “No, as I said, I’d never heard of him, but other than Milt and my friend Bob, I pretty much steer clear of politics. I will say that from what I’ve seen of politicians, they often feel that the laws other people have to live by don’t apply to them. Remember Richard Nixon? Maybe this is one of those cases, or then again, maybe Milt’s death was simply because it was his time. I’ll be curious what Sean finds out about the contents of the bottle you sent him. I do wish I’d been a fly on the wall and seen the expression on the clerk’s face when you told her you wanted to FedEx a bottle of juice. She’ll probably be telling people about that for months to come,” he said laughing.

  “Roger, this is hardly a laughing matter, and I think you’re being a bit insensitive. Anyway, do you have any objections to me emailing Sean and seeing what he can find out about the senator?”

  “None at all,” Roger said. “While you’re at it you might as well ask him to take a look at Amanda and Emilio DeLuise, as well as the chef’s assistant, Cassie. If the chef has suspicions, maybe there’s something to it. I think we’ve talked enough about today’s events, and I need to get dressed. Don’t want to be late for dinner if breakfast and lunch were any indication of what we can expect from the chef.”

  “Well,” Liz said standing up and walking into the bathroom, “If you like warm pecan pie with vanilla bean ice cream and molasses bourbon sauce, I think you’ll be happy with tonight’s dinner. I’ll email Sean after dinner. Give me five minutes to get ready.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Liz and Roger walked downstairs and into the great room where drinks and appetizers were being served. She looked around and realized one of the big differences between California and Texas was in what was being drunk by guests during the cocktail hour. She always served various different kinds of wines to her guests, but here it seemed that most of the guests were drinking bourbon. Guess it’s a Texan thing, she thought.

  She noticed Chef Jackson had prepared a large platter of the elk he’d served her at lunch as well as a platter of other wild game appetizers. She was looking forward to trying the appetizer labelled “Fried Quail in a Pomegranate Raspberry Sauce.” Liz was glad to see that the game the hunters shot was being used.

  “Good evening, Mrs. Langley, how was your day?” the young man behind the bar asked her as she debated what kind of wine to have. She looked up and recognized the waiter who had served them breakfast, Jesse.

  “It was fine, Jesse, thanks for asking.”

  “What may I get you to drink?”

  “Chef Jackson and I had a glass of carmenere at lunch. Do you have any of that?”

  “Sure do. It’s a big hit with the guests and always goes well with the different meats Chef Jackson cooks. Here you are,” he said as he handed her a glass. She took it from him and mentally compared it to the color of the juice that had been in the bottle in Milt’s room. The carmenere was a darker red and no odor was coming from it.

  “Mr. Langley, what can I get for you?”

  “I’d like a bourbon on the rocks. Thanks.” Roger saw the shocked look on Liz’s face and said, “What the heck? When in Texas I might as well drink like a Texan.”

  She shook her head and whispered, “You’re the one who might just have to pay for it tomorrow.”

  “Liz, this might come as a shock to you, but I’ve drunk bourbon a time or two, and I assure you I can handle it. Thanks for your concern though,” he said grinning at her.

  “Just trying to be your friend,” she said. “By the way, you might want to try some of the elk meat. I had some for lunch, and it was wonderful.”

  A half hour later Jack walked over to the dining room entrance, opened the doors, and announced, “Dinner is served. You’ll find a place card with each of your names on it. It’s been my experience that if we don’t do that, the guests tend to eat with the same people every night, although we do allow married couples to sit together.” He nodded towards Liz and Roger as well as another couple who Liz assumed were Amanda and Emilio DeLuise.

  Liz and Roger found their places, sat down at the table, and introduced themselves to the six men who were also being seated at their table. A menu of what was going to be served for dinner that evening was at each place. Liz picked it up and knew she was in for another wonderful meal.

  Dinner was to begin with a jumbo lump crab cocktail with citrus fruit and a red pepper salsa followed by a hanger steak, French fries, a partially scooped avocado half filled with chilled broccoli cheddar cheese soup, fresh warm rolls, and the pecan pie. Bring it on, Liz thought, after the day I’ve had, this sounds divine. A moment later Jesse walked over to their table and served them each a sundae-sized dish full of crabmeat mi
xed with chopped oranges and grapefruit and garnished with fresh salsa. There was very little conversation while each of the guests savored the crab cocktail.

  Liz finished hers and turned to the man seated next to her. “We met briefly, but let me introduce myself again. My name is Liz Langley, and I’m from Northern California. This is my first time here. I’m really impressed with the lodge, and the food here is wonderful. Is this your first time?”

  “No, I’ve been coming here for several years. My name is Mac Ward. I’m from North Carolina, tobacco country,” he said with a soft Southern drawl. “If it wasn’t for the food, I don’t know if I would have kept coming back here, but every time I consider going somewhere new, I remember the wonderful meals Chef Jackson prepares and before you know it, my reservation deposit is in the mail.”

  “I can certainly understand that. I own a lodge and spa in California and cook meals for my guests, but there’s a lot I can learn from Chef Jackson. He seems to be amazingly talented.”

  “He is. I like it that we can order our own specially prepared breakfast, but I’m fine with the way they serve lunch and dinner. I don’t know how he does it, but each year he surprises me. I understand one of the guests who’s from your state, Milt Huston, had to leave unexpectedly. Can’t say I’m too sorry. I’ve been here several times when he’s been a guest.”

  “Yes, I understand he had to leave. May I ask why you’re not sorry he left?”

  Mac put his fork down and looked at Liz with a grim face. “I don’t know whether you know it or not, but more tobacco is grown in North Carolina than anywhere else in the United States. Last year an initiative was placed on the California ballot to increase cigarette taxes by $2.00 a pack, but it didn’t get enough signatures to qualify. So when the statewide effort failed, Milt started pushing for legislation that would increase the state tax on each pack of cigarettes by $2.00. A lot of other states have been looking to California to see if he’ll be able to get the legislature out there to pass it. A number of them intend to do the same thing if it becomes law in California. I understand he’s talked to a lot of people in those states and is trying to get them to likewise raise their tax on cigarettes.”