Mandy joined them, shielding her eyes from the glaring rays of the morning sun. Though strong enough to make her squint, the sunbeams hadn’t cut through the morning chill yet. Dew still clung to the grass and to equipment which had been left outside overnight. “Who’s the third guide?”
Kendra hesitated and glanced at Dougie. “Gonzo.”
“Where is he? He should have been here half an hour ago.”
Dougie shrugged and Kendra bit her lip.
Mandy pulled out her cell phone, feeling a tension headache coming on. “I’ll call him.”
Just as she finished dialing his cell phone number, Gonzo’s car pulled into the parking lot. It screeched to a bouncing halt beside Mandy’s. He stepped out, slammed the door, and took a step toward them. Losing his balance, he put a hand on the back of Mandy’s car to right himself, then leaned into a sweeping bow, as if trying to cover up his stumble.
“Queen Elena at your service.” A giggle burbled out of his lips before he could assume a straight face and stiff posture.
Mandy snapped her phone shut and pocketed it. A fit of giggles wasn’t what was burbling up in her gut. She waited while Gonzo stepped carefully toward her. “You’re late.”
“Hey, after the night I had, I’m lucky I’m here at all.” He put a hand to his head. “Woo, I don’t know how many beers people bought me. I’ll have to dress up as a girl more often.”
He started laughing, but when no one joined in, his laughter died out. “Seriously, Mandy, you missed a hell of a party at the Vic. Your brother sure enjoyed himself. Everyone was asking him where you were.”
As Gonzo spoke, stale beer fumes wafted toward Mandy. She studied his bloodshot eyes, his unsteady feet, and his shaky hands. Had Uncle Bill had to handle this before with Gonzo?
“You’re still drunk, aren’t you?”
“Nah,” Gonzo overshot his wave of dismissal and spun around. “I musta gotten at least three hour’s sleep this morning. I’m raring to go.” He snorted and rubbed his hands together. “Ready, brave Knight Dougie? Lovely Princess Kendra?”
When Dougie and Kendra just stood there looking at him, Gonzo put his hands on his hips. “Party poopers. I guess I’ll have to keep these tourists entertained all by myself.”
Dougie and Kendra’s reaction bolstered Mandy’s confidence. They didn’t appreciate Gonzo’s behavior any more than she did. She certainly couldn’t allow him to lead customers through dangerous whitewater.
“No, you won’t. You’re not working today.” Mandy turned to Kendra. “You got Ajax’s cell phone number?”
When Mandy pulled out her phone, Gonzo grabbed her arm. “Hey, I’m here. And I’m ready to work.”
“I’m not entrusting the safety of our customers to you in this state, Gonzo. Go sleep it off.” She shook her arm in an effort to release his grasp, acting more sure of herself than she felt.
Gonzo’s fingers dug in deeper. “But I have to work today. I’m broke.”
Mandy knew how close he was to abject poverty. Most of the seasonal rafting guides barely scraped by on the low pay and erratic hours. They were so addicted to the highs from running whitewater that they put up with sleeping in tents and eating peanut butter on saltine crackers so they could be on the river.
But she had a business to run. She couldn’t let Gonzo see how much she sympathized with his predicament. Her mouth in a firm line, Mandy pried his fingers loose and pushed his hand off her arm. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves.
“You should have thought of that before you drank all those free beers. Consider this a warning, Gonzo. You show up here for work drunk again, I’ll have to take you off the payroll.”
Gonzo’s face turned dark. His fists balled up. “You can’t talk to me like that. I’m one of the best guides on the Arkansas. I can show up at any outfitter’s, including your buddy Rob’s, and they’d hire me in a heartbeat.”
“Go ahead and try,” Mandy said. “They won’t put a drunken guide in charge of a raft either.”
“Screw you. I don’t deserve this grief. I quit.” Gonzo stomped to his car.
Mandy started after him. “Gonzo, wait. Don’t drive like this.”
He refused to look at her as he started the engine and peeled out of the parking lot, his spinning wheels spouting gravel.
Kendra came up to stand by Mandy. “You think he’ll be safe on the road?”
“At this point, I don’t care.” Mandy rubbed her throbbing head. “Sorry, I do care, but I’m so mad at Gonzo I could spit fire. I wish he hadn’t put me in that position. I hated having to tell him off.”
“He deserved it this time.” Kendra handed Mandy her cell phone. “Ajax’s number is on the screen. Just press the call button.”
Mandy called the guide’s number and explained the situation to him.
“Gee, Mandy, I sympathize,” he said, “but I can’t make it in until the afternoon trip. I’m in Buena Vista now, and I don’t have my car. I’m waiting for a friend to come pick me up.”
Probably went home with some girl last night. “I understand,” Mandy replied. “But I could really use you this afternoon.”
“I’ll be there.”
Frustrated and with time running out, Mandy opened the back of her station wagon. She pulled out the extra helmet and set of paddling clothes she always kept in there. “I’ll be the third guide this morning.”
The first carload of tourists drove into the parking lot, waving in giddy excitement at the solemn threesome.
“Who’ll run shuttle?” Dougie asked.
“I’ll have to call and wake David and ask him to do it before he goes home.”
And she would have to come up with some explanation for the customers as to why the trip was leaving late. And put off her conversation with David about Uncle Bill’s business again.
The way things were going, the problem would solve itself. There wouldn’t be any business left.
_____
After running the shuttle for the afternoon rafting trip, Mandy’s arms were sore from guiding the morning trip, but her mood was much improved. Spending a morning creating fun for others had lifted her spirits. She decided it was too nice a day to eat lunch inside. When she got home, she called Cynthia to invite her to an impromptu picnic at the water park. She whistled a jaunty tune while fixing PBJ sandwiches.
Mandy hadn’t realized how much she missed guiding trips since she’d started the river ranger job—the thrill of lining up a raft for a perfect roller-coaster ride along a train of standing waves, breaking though the initial shyness of the tourists to get them to open up about themselves and open their minds to relaxing on the river, catching the bright rays of their smiles when it finally happened.
The best part was the camaraderie with the other guides. Mandy smiled, remembering the goofball things they did to make the experience memorable for the customers—starting water fights with the other rafts, the dumbest joke competition on one of the slow sections, leading a cheer fest during the return bus ride, and slipping in a gentle reminder that rafting guides lived on tips.
After tossing the sandwiches and some diet Pepsis in a small cooler, Mandy loaded Lucky into her Subaru. The poor dog had been cooped up too much at home while Mandy split her time between her river ranger duties and the rafting company. And after last night’s scare, Lucky probably could use some happy excitement too.
Mandy drove into town, fingers drumming on the steering wheel in accompaniment to her favorite Pink CD, M!ssundaztood. She commanded Lucky to heel as they walked to the river. The dog practically danced at her side, panting with excitement and sniffing at everyone they passed. But he only broke his heel once to leave a sprinkle message on a nearby tree and alert other dogs to his presence.
When they reached the river bank, Mandy found a shady spot upriver of the mai
n play hole in the whitewater park. It wasn’t the perfect location for viewing the antics of the kayaks competing in the freestyle preliminaries, but it was close and out of the blazing midday sun. She sat on the grass and unwrapped a sandwich.
A Steller’s jay, its dark blue plumage and crest glistening, swooped down and landed on the grass. It cocked its head to scan the ground around her for crumbs.
Lucky was well-acquainted with the smell of peanut butter. When he came begging and chased off his competition, she broke off a piece of her sandwich to give to him. She never failed to be amused by the frantic licking that resulted while he tried to scrape the sticky treat off the roof of his mouth.
“Are you feeding that dog peanut butter again?” Cynthia tossed a large bag of potato chips on the ground, sat on the grass next to Mandy and leaned back on her elbows. She reached into the cooler for a sandwich and took a bite. “Not bad. What kind of jelly is this?”
“Blackberry. Rob’s mom made it.”
And it might be the last jar she would get from Rob’s mom, given the state of her relationship with him. To cover up the flash of sadness she felt, Mandy took a big bite and stared at a kayaker surfing a standing wave.
Cynthia didn’t seem to notice, however. “Okay, it’s not Monday, but here’s one for you. How do you make a blonde laugh on Monday?”
“I haven’t the foggiest.”
“Tell her a joke on Friday.” She glanced at Mandy’s sad expression. “Sorry, stupid choice. You weren’t laughing at anything on Monday, were you?”
Mandy gave the rest of her sandwich to Lucky and hugged her knees. “No, I wasn’t. But thanks for trying to cheer me up.”
“How could you not cheer up on a day like today?” Cynthia waved her hand in the direction of the river. “Perfect weather and a perfect spot by the river for enjoying it.”
A kayaker executed a flawless pivot around a gate pole, his boat making a graceful turn, as if dancing with the pole as partner. The kayaker shouted out a “whoop” that expressed more about the sheer pleasure of playing with the water than about scoring in the race.
Mandy smiled, remembering feeling the same way that morning. “Could you live somewhere without a river?”
“Never,” Cynthia said vehemently.
“Me, neither.” Mandy knew she’d wither up and die like a neglected houseplant if she couldn’t soak up the energy of the moving water and the myriad plants and wildlife it sustained.
Cynthia ripped open the potato chip bag. “Hey, I’ve got news about Paula King. Apparently, she and Tom King were attempting a reconciliation before he was killed. A neighbor of theirs spotted Tom carrying suitcases back into the house a few nights before the rafting trip.”
Mandy nodded. “That jives with what Evie Olson and her friend Shirley Logan said at the beauty parlor.” She summarized the conversation. “It sounds like Evie had more of a motive to kill Tom King than Paula did.”
“Unless the reconciliation didn’t work.” Cynthia eyed Mandy’s nails. “You sure didn’t get my money’s worth out of that manicure.”
“I’m hopeless.” Mandy held out her fingers and assessed the damage. “With all the work I do with my hands, there’s no way I could keep the polish from getting chipped. Trouble is, I don’t have any remover to take the rest off. I’m sorry I wasted your money. “
Cynthia sat up. “But you didn’t waste it. You found out Evie was no longer seeing Tom King and was upset about it.”
“And upset about me asking questions. Maybe really upset. Someone threw a rock through my kitchen window last night, with a message attached, telling me to keep my nose out of the Tom King business.”
“You think it was Evie?”
“Or Jeff or Paula King. Or Lenny Preble. Or Nate Fowler.” Mandy scooped a handful of potato chips out of Cynthia’s bag and paused before slipping one into her mouth. “Or someone else.”
Cynthia’s brows furrowed. “Have you told the police?”
“Not yet. I know I have to, but I’ve been putting off telling Detective Quintana, since he requested that I not talk to suspects.”
“This is a big deal, Mandy. You’ve got to tell the police ASAP.” Cynthia plucked a stalk of grass to put between her teeth. “Have you fixed the window at least? Someone could get in your house that way.”
Mandy snorted. “That house is so easy to break into, no one needs to mess with the kitchen window. I hadn’t been worried before, because I don’t have anything worth stealing, and Salida’s not exactly a hotbed of crime.”
“But now someone’s after you, not your stuff.”
“A rock through my window doesn’t mean someone’s after me.”
Cynthia stared at her.
“Okay, okay, I know.” Mandy cringed a little. “But I’ve been on the river all morning. I’ll fix it this afternoon. After running the morning shuttle, David said he would slap some duct tape over the hole in the screen before he left for Colorado Springs. And he made me promise I’d get the glass replaced today.”
“David’s gone? Bummer. He was a lot of fun at the Vic last night.”
Mandy studied Cynthia’s face. A blush colored her friend’s ears. “Are you going sweet on my brother?”
“No, no, no,” Cynthia said too quickly. “He’s just fun to be around is all. He even laughed at my oldest, lamest blonde joke.”
“Which one is that?”
“Oh, you know, two blondes flip a raft, and one swims to river right and the other one swims to river left. After they climb out of the water, one asks the other, ‘How do I get to the other side?’”
Mandy jumped in with the punch line she’d heard umpteen times. “And the second one says, ‘You ditz, you’re already on the other side.’”
Cynthia snorted a laugh, then took the blade of grass out of her mouth and tickled Lucky’s nose with it until the dog sneezed. “David’s coming back for your uncle’s service, right?”
Mandy shoved Cynthia’s shoulder, knocking her over sideways. “You lying sack of pinto beans. You’ve got the hots for David.”
Cynthia arched a brow at Mandy then slowly drew her tongue across her lips.
The two of them burst out laughing. Mandy fell back onto the grass, and Lucky, wanting to be part of the game, jumped on top of her and licked her cheek.
When he went after Cynthia, she playfully pushed him off. “Yuck, get out of my face, you slobbery dog.”
Mandy couldn’t imagine her staid accountant brother having fun. She wished she had been at the Vic last night to see it. As her giggles died down, she realized she hadn’t laughed like this since her uncle died. A flash of guilt hit her, but was just as quickly swept away. Uncle Bill would have wanted her to be doing just this, lounging on the grass by the river and laughing with a friend.
She sent up a silent prayer and hoped he was playing on a sparkling, gurgling river like the Arkansas wherever he was. A gust of wind tossed the tree branch above her, letting a bright ray of sunlight through. Closing her eyes, Mandy smiled and let the warmth soak in.
Until she was attacked by another doggie slurp.
“Come here, Lucky.” Cynthia tackled Lucky, pulled him off Mandy, and tossed a stick for him to fetch. Her gaze tracked the dog’s path, then she nudged Mandy. “Speak of the devil. There’s Paula King herself.”
Mandy sat up and scanned the pedestrian path.
Paula saw them staring at her and looked around, as if seeking an escape route. She must have changed her mind, though, because she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. The high heels she wore under her embroidered capri jeans sunk into the grass as she changed direction and approached Mandy. She stopped a few feet away and lifted her sunglasses to scan Mandy’s outfit—an oversized, faded T-shirt and nylon paddling shorts she’d thrown on over a bathing suit.
Mandy
bristled under the scrutiny. She felt like shouting, “I just came off the river,” but pride clamped her lips shut. She was also curious why Paula had decided to approach them.
Lucky bounded up with the stick, dropped it in front of Cynthia, and walked over to sniff Paula’s crotch.
Paula shoved the dog’s nose away. “Get this beast away from me.”
“Lucky, come,” Mandy commanded. When Lucky responded, she grabbed his collar and told him to lie down. She started to rub his stomach, which always made him roll over placidly on his back, begging for more.
“I suppose I should thank you for pulling my son out of Pine Creek rapid yesterday,” Paula drawled. She crossed her arms. “You seem to have made a practice of plucking King men out of the Arkansas.”
Mandy glanced at Cynthia, who quirked an eyebrow at her. This is coming from a woman whose husband died a week ago, one she was reconciling with?
“That’s what I do.”
“Is it your job to ask so many questions, too?”
Mandy’s hand paused in mid-circle on Lucky’s stomach, causing the dog to bat it impatiently with his paw. “What do you mean?”
“Jeff said you were asking questions yesterday. Why are you so interested in my husband’s will?”
“Will? I didn’t say anything about a will,” Mandy said. “We were just talking about why he wanted to finish that race so badly. He was pretty mad he blew his chance to win the Wave Sport.”
Paula harrumphed and stared at a kayaker cartwheeling in the river. “I must be mistaken, then.”
“Was Jeff upset about our conversation?” Upset enough to throw a rock through my window?
“It doesn’t take much to set either of us on edge these days.” Paula started to leave, then turned back. “You have my sympathies over your uncle’s death.”
“Thank you. And you have mine. For your husband.”
Paula stared at her for a moment. She stood as stiff as a military officer at attention, holding something in, something that was clawing to get out. “Thank you.” She turned and headed up the hill.
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