“You know that Tom was poisoned, right?”
“Yeah, it was in the paper. How do you think the cops found it? The autopsy?”
Mandy shrugged. I know, but I’m not telling.
Indignation purpling his face, Lenny snapped to military attention as if someone had rammed a rod down the back of his shirt. “He couldn’t have been poisoned by the snacks. No way. The drink bottles were shrink-wrapped, and the donut boxes still had the tape on them from the store. Besides, I heard he was poisoned hours before the trip started.”
“Who said that?”
Lenny waved his long-fingered hand dismissively. “Any of at least fifty people who’ve accosted me in the past few days. Everyone wants to find out what I know about King’s death and to tell me what they think happened. I hope you haven’t been listening to people’s wild-assed theories.”
He thrust out his chin. “Who thinks I killed Tom King?”
Mandy put up her palms. “No one’s accusing you, Lenny, especially not me.”
Thankfully, his cohort returned with the trash bags and tossed Lenny’s car keys back to him.
“I’ll let you get to work,” Mandy said, backing off. “Thanks again for volunteering to pick up the litter.”
Lenny grabbed a trash bag from his friend. “You know, some people in this town deserve to be stuffed in a trash can like the rest of the garbage.”
_____
Mandy wrinkled her nose at the giant pretzel smothered in warmed-over cheese sauce that she had bought for her dinner. Tentatively, she took a bite, chewed the cloying lump, and swallowed. It wasn’t her usual natural fare, but it would quiet the beast growling in her stomach. And it was the cheapest meal she could find among the food booths at the festival. She forced herself to take another bite and looked upstream at the starting line of the Raft Rodeo.
She had wormed her way into a prime spot along the railing of the F Street Bridge spanning the river, so she could watch Rob compete. He and his secret partner, whom he had refused to name to Mandy, had been practicing at the Salida Whitewater Park whenever they could get free in the evenings. The prizes were a joke, because the race was designed primarily to entertain the crowd, but the competition for bragging rights among the outfitters was fierce.
Mandy spied David strolling along the paved path next to the river, his gaze scanning the crowd. She waved to him and yelled his name.
He waved back and headed toward her.
While she waited, she took a few swallows from her water bottle to rinse the glue-like cheese out of her mouth. Even though it was approaching 6:30 pm, the start time of the race, the hot sun was still baking the crowd. The sun wouldn’t set for two more hours, so sales of cold beer, sodas, and water bottles were brisk. She smiled at a knot of giggling teenagers who were using the heat as an excuse to rub ice cubes across each other’s necks and backs—preferably a member of the opposite sex.
David came up behind her and peered over her shoulder at the paper plate in her hand. “You going to finish that? I’m famished.”
Mandy glanced at the half-eaten pretzel, the sauce congealing, and handed it to him. “Take it from me, please.”
She waited for him to take a few ravenous bites. “How’d things go today?”
“Not bad. We had some walk-ins. Two couples. So we sent three rafts down Brown’s Canyon this afternoon instead of two.”
Four was better, even five, but with their fifth raft blown, that wasn’t possible. Before Mandy could ask David if he had come across any good news, or more likely, more bad news in her uncle’s books that day, the announcer introduced the first heat of rafts.
One team, the “Whitey Tighteys,” wore briefs over their poly leggings, and another had a large golden retriever wearing a doggy PFD sitting in their raft as ballast. The dog didn’t help much. When the paddlers tried to stand their raft on its end in the play hole above the town launch ramp, all three occupants went for a swim.
The underwear-clad team executed a spin, set their raft on its side in the hole, and surfed back and forth to cheers from the crowd. After peeling out, they stood and bowed while their raft bobbed down the river.
“That’ll be a tough team to beat,” David said to Mandy.
Mandy grinned back. “Just wait. I bet Rob’s got some tricks up his sleeve.” Then she remembered she was supposed to be mad at him.
David pushed forward to stand beside her and leaned on the bridge’s concrete railing. “You know, Mandy, I’m convinced Rob’s motives for offering to buy the company aren’t selfish. He’s not trying to steal Uncle Bill’s customers. He really wants to help us.”
“I know that now, after sleeping on it. But that’s not really why I’m mad at you two.”
David stared at her, puzzle lines wrinkling his forehead. “I don’t understand.”
“See, that’s another symptom of the whole problem. You and Rob are both so wrapped up in taking charge and making decisions that you can’t even see when you’re stepping on people.”
“You think we’re stepping on you?” Realization dawned on his face. “Oh, you wanted a say in the decision. But that’s why Rob and I wanted to talk to you, to explain his proposal—”
“Dammit, David.” Mandy slapped the concrete, making her hand sting. “Rob should have come to me first with that proposal, not you, or at the very least, both of us. I should have been in on it from the get-go. Uncle Bill did leave half the business to me, you know.”
“Step into Rob’s shoes for a minute. You’ve been so touchy around him lately, then you were grieving for Uncle Bill. He was afraid to approach you with the idea, afraid to approach you at all.”
Mandy frowned. “Is there anything about our relationship that Rob hasn’t told you?”
“Frankly, I don’t want to know anything about my little sister’s love life, even the fact that you have one. I still like to think of you as an innocent teenager.”
He flashed a smile to show he was joking, but when Mandy thrust her jaw out at him, the smile faded. “C’mon, Mandy, we’re not trading secrets behind your back.”
“No, just conspiring behind my back. Planning my future without my input. Like I’m still a helpless kid, which in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not.” She folded her arms across her chest and stared at a raft attempting an end-o in the play hole. She barely noticed when it flipped over.
David put a hand on her arm to turn her toward him. “No, you’re not still a kid. I’m sorry if I treated you that way. I’m just—” He let go of her arm. “Just trying to make up for … you know.”
“No, I don’t know.”
David leaned forward on the railing and stared at the water rushing under the bridge. “For not helping you more after Mom and Dad died. For palming you off on Uncle Bill so I could finish my degree.”
“I never felt like I’d been palmed off.”
“Well, I felt damned guilty for doing it.”
Mandy threw an arm around his back and talked softly into his ear. “Don’t David. I love, loved, Uncle Bill, and he gave me everything—a home, education, security, and a shoulder to cry on whenever I needed it. You couldn’t have done all that. You were only nineteen yourself.”
“I could have given you that shoulder,” David mumbled. “And when I heard Uncle Bill had died, and you were alone again, the guilt came rushing back. I wanted to do a better job of it this time, make up for neglecting you before.”
“So that’s why you’re meddling in my life.”
“Meddling!”
When David looked at Mandy, she half-smiled to show she was half-joking.
“Okay, point taken,” he said. “Sorry I tried to make decisions for you.”
“Apology accepted. Now, if I could just make Rob understand.”
“I’m sure you can. He seems like the
kind of guy who’ll listen. And he loves you, Mandy.”
A thrill went through her. “You think so?”
David arched a brow. “Oh, yeah.”
Just then, the announcer’s voice bellowed over the loudspeaker, “Our next entry is the infamous swordsman, El Zorro, and his voluptuous wife, Elena!”
“That’s got to be Rob. Zorro’s his hero.” Mandy craned her neck to search upriver for Rob’s raft.
“Who’s the well-endowed Elena?” asked David.
“I have no idea.” Mandy spied the raft and pointed.
Rob stood in the front of the raft, flourishing a rubber sword and wearing a black mask, black cape, and black gaucho hat tied over his helmet. His obviously male partner in the back wore a long black wig over his helmet. Two soccer balls jiggled under his extra-extra large red dress, their white hexagons peeking out from the gaping top.
The crowd clapped and hooted.
Mandy giggled. Which of Rob’s rafting guides had the gumption to dress in drag? They were still too far away for her to make out Elena’s face.
When the raft approached the play hole, Rob tossed the sword aside and hunkered down with a paddle to help his partner. The two slid expertly into the hole and spun the raft a few times. Then they high-sided the raft, slipping one edge under the foaming water while sitting on the high side to keep it from flipping. They slid off to one side of the rapid, let the raft settle onto its bottom, then spun it end-on to the play hole and started paddling toward the center.
“They’re going to attempt an end-o!” Mandy yelled to David.
Zorro-Rob and his mock-Elena stood on the upstream end of the raft. They dipped the upstream end under the water while pulling on ropes on either side of the raft to lift the downstream end. It rose, flashing the bottom of the raft to the crowd lining the banks and bridge, until the raft was almost vertical. The raft danced on its tail in the water to the cheers of the crowd. The two men expertly held it in place and upright with one hand each and made small paddle corrections in the water with their other hands.
They could only hold the position for a few seconds, though, until the bottom of the raft came crashing down onto the water, taking both paddlers with it. The false Elena bounced off the raft and into the river. While splashing back to the raft and climbing in, he lost his wig. The black mass undulated in the current like a multi-tentacled octopus.
Mandy recognized the ropy, matted dreadlocks peeking out from underneath the man’s helmet. She grabbed David’s arm. “It’s Gonzo! Elena is Gonzo.”
David laughed then put two fingers in his mouth and let out a loud wolf whistle in Gonzo’s direction.
Gonzo looked up at the bridge, spied Mandy and David waving at him, grinned and waved back. He shouted at Rob, who had gotten back on his feet and was flourishing his cape and bowing to the crowd along the bank as the raft floated by. The two men looked up at the bridge as they slid under.
Mandy leaned over to wave at Rob.
Her Zorro tore off his mask and threw her a theatrical kiss, but his eyes conveyed a different message—confusion and a question.
_____
While Mandy drove home, she reviewed the conversation she’d had with David when he walked her to her car. He said the only way they could keep Uncle Bill’s business afloat was to run at full capacity all summer, which was impossible with the cancellations and blown raft. Too exhausted to brainstorm solutions, Mandy had said she wanted to sleep on it.
David had said he would drink on it, this being his last night in town. They could talk more in the morning before he returned to Colorado Springs to put out some fires at work. He promised to return for Uncle Bill’s memorial service on Monday.
When he had asked if she would be all right by herself until then, she’d said, “There you go again,” and he backed off, but not before Mandy saw the hurt look on his face. Was she being too hard on both Rob and David? Should she just give up on Uncle Bill’s legacy
No, I’m not ready to do that yet.
When she pulled the Subaru into the drive, Lucky went bonkers and started barking and jumping up against the chain-link fence. That wasn’t normal. Mandy opened the gate to let the dog out into the front yard. When she went in the front door, Lucky pushed past her then ran into the kitchen and ran back, barking continuously.
Mandy followed the frantic dog into the kitchen and turned on the light. Broken glass lay scattered on the sink, counter, and floor. The Venetian blinds over the sink window slapped against the sill.
What the hell?
Mandy stepped back into the living room. “Here, Lucky!”
The dog ran to her, and Mandy checked his paws, one by one. No cuts, yet. She commanded Lucky to sit, then stepped into the kitchen and slid the pocket door between it and the living room shut to keep the dog away from the glass fragments. Lucky immediately started barking from the other side.
“Hush! It’s not safe for you in here.”
The barking subsided to a whine and snuffles at the door crack.
After stepping carefully over the glass, Mandy pulled up the blinds. Her window glass was gone, except for a few shards. A big hole was punched out of the screen. Mandy searched the kitchen. She spied a large rock under the kitchen table, with a white piece of paper rubber-banded to it.
She leaned down, keeping her knees off the floor, and picked up the rock. She yanked the paper free and spread it out on the kitchen table. Words cut out of the newspaper had been glued to it. They read, “Keep your nose out of the Tom King business or else!”
Or else what? Heart pounding, Mandy checked the kitchen door. Locked.
She walked to the pocket door, took off her shoes in case some glass had gotten embedded in the soles, and pushed past Lucky’s inquisitive nose. She locked the front door and returned to the kitchen, closing the pocket door in Lucky’s face again.
She put her shoes back on, grabbed the broom leaning in the corner and started sweeping. Nothing like action to drive away some of the panic. But as she worked, she kept glancing at the note.
Everyone she had talked to lately about Tom King had ended up angry at her or suspicious of her motives. She reviewed her conversations over the past few days with Lenny Preble at the Salida Riverside Park, Jeff King at the Pine Creek Boater X, Nate Fowler at the FIBArk Kickoff, and Evie Olson at the Final Touch Day Spa. They all had potential motives for killing Tom King. None of them had liked her probing questions. And Paula King had yelled at Mandy at her husband’s memorial service.
Was one of them upset enough to throw the rock through Mandy’s window? Was the rock thrower Tom King’s killer? Or could this message have come from someone else? Someone Mandy hadn’t talked to yet, but who heard she’d been asking questions.
She swept the glass into the dustpan and dumped it in the trashcan. Then she checked the bottoms of her shoes. Lastly, she wet a paper towel and wiped the floor to pick up any remaining small fragments. With the floor clean and safe for Lucky’s paws, Mandy opened the pocket door.
Lucky pushed in and shoved his head under Mandy’s hand, begging for petting, for assurance that everything was all right. While staring at Mandy, the dog’s eyebrows worked back and forth, a sign he was worried.
With good reason. After calming Lucky with a good rubbing behind the ears, Mandy washed her hands, then unscrewed the cover of her peanut butter jar, dipped her finger in and sucked on a gob of comfort food. It didn’t give her much comfort tonight, though.
If someone was threatened by or angry at her enough to throw a rock through her kitchen window, what would they do next? Or would they wait to see what she would do next?
She looked at the window. The glass shards were still there. She stood.
Taking this action to mean they would be going for a walk, Lucky went to fetch his leash.
But Mandy ha
d no desire to leave the relative safety of her home for the streets. Not when the willies were still sending shivers down her back.
“Sorry, Lucky. I’ve got to get the rest of that glass out of the window. You’ll just have to do your business in the yard.”
She flipped on the back porch light and peered outside, searching the yard for movement. Nothing. But that didn’t stop her from continuing to look for a few more minutes.
Lucky finally scratched at her sneakers.
“Okay, okay.” Mandy’s hand shook as she reached for the doorknob.
Drinking nature is an unquenchable thirst.
—Berri Clove
Mandy drove to her uncle’s place. Friday was her day off from river rangering, but with a business to run, it wasn’t going to be a day of rest. She would be working nonstop through the summer. And last night hadn’t been very restful either. Even with Lucky beside her in the bedroom, she hadn’t felt safe until she heard her brother let himself in.
He hadn’t arrived until well past midnight, so she didn’t have the heart to wake him before she left. She tip-toed out, leaving him sprawled and snoring on the couch. She left a note on the kitchen table asking him to call or stop by the business before he headed back to Colorado Springs.
She glanced at the passenger seat of her Subaru, where she had tossed the threatening message from last night’s rock. She would have to get her window replaced today. And she would have to face Detective Quintana. And when she told him, she would have to admit to her conversations with the suspects.
Which would reveal she’d done exactly the opposite of what he had told her to do.
After she parked in her uncle’s lot, she checked her watch. Customers for the morning trip would be arriving in half an hour. No time to call Quintana now. It would have to wait until after she ran the morning shuttle.
Kendra and Dougie were moving around the equipment yard, loading three rafts and handfuls of paddles onto the top of the bus. This was a good sign—the first time in days that they had booked more than a vanload of rafters. But where was the third guide?
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