by Carol Devine
He had the grace to look embarrassed. "I promised Bess."
"Yes, you did."
"I guess I can put my hands on some of those things you mentioned."
"If so, I should be able to help you."
"Do you think she's dead?"
"There's no way for me to know. Given what you've said, she may have decided to cut her losses and start over somewhere else. My question is, how badly do you want to know? It's going to cost you something, not an arm or a leg, but a reasonable fee on my end and some effort on your end." She passed him her brochure. "Here's a list of what I charge for the services I provide. The initial consult is free which is what you and I just had. I look forward to hearing from you soon."
For the first time, Wilton's face cracked into something resembling genuine respect. "You're nothing like your Pa, are you?"
"Practically speaking, no."
"I don't suppose I could have a cup of coffee like your last client did."
"If you promise to tell me something I can use to help find your daughter, sure."
"I might be able to come up with a detail or two."
"Glad to hear it."
Mariah fetched the coffee. When he began to talk, she began to type.
* * * * *
Wearing one of her classic little black dresses and coat that formed the backbone of her Washington, DC party wardrobe, Mariah rang the doorbell at Shane's house. Ana, dressed in a colorful ruffled skirt and leather vest and wearing a birthday crown, opened the door.
"Come on in," she said. Her face abruptly brightened. "Mariah!"
Unprepared for the affectionate squeeze Ana gave her, Mariah squeezed in return, along with giving one of her rare smiles. But her embarrassment at losing touch with such a close friend, who's family treated her like a surrogate daughter during her high school years, left Mariah feeling awkward. She entered the house, avoiding everyone's gaze except Ana's, and presented a small gift bag.
"Happy Birthday," she said. "It's nothing fancy but when I saw it, I thought of you."
"You didn't have to do that," Ana said, taking the bag and drawing Mariah in. Since it was past eight, well after the start of the party, plenty of people were milling around in the foyer and the living room beyond. "Seeing you is gift enough. I'm so glad you're back. You look great by the way. You add some East coast class to this backwater town."
"I stick out like a sore thumb. A trip to western wear central is in order."
"I think if people saw you dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, they'd have a hard time taking you seriously as an investigator. Congratulations on your opening."
Shane arrived, carrying a bottle of beer. "Glad you made it, Doc. Like the outfit."
"I'm disguised as a FBI agent. Do you think anyone will notice?"
"Can I get you something to drink? I have beer, wine, Ana's favorite margaritas, soft drinks…"
"Bottled water if you have it."
"Sure. Ana, how about you? Another margarita?"
Ana raised her margarita glass, twirled it, and seeing it empty, gave it to Shane. "I'd rather have bottled water, too."
Shane left for the kitchen. Mariah drew Ana into a quiet corner and spoke confidentially. "It's okay to drink in front of me. In fact, I drink the occasional wine or beer myself. But with McBride Investigations getting started, I want people to decide for themselves if I take after Bird or not."
"Nobody is saying you take after him."
"What are they saying?"
Ana looked uncomfortable.
"Don't sweat it. I know it's bad."
"They're saying you're a hero for standing up to the powers that be."
"No wonder we were best buddies in high school. I appreciate your loyalty. But my career is down the tubes and everybody knows it. Me downing alcohol tonight may excite more talk. Since I'd rather not add any more grist to the rumor mill, I'm abstaining. But you go ahead. It's your birthday, for heaven's sake."
Ana shook her head. "One drink is plenty for me. I have two kids. Keeping a clear head is a mom requirement."
"I remember hearing about the birth of your first. Megan, is it?"
"Yes. She's 13 going on 16. Then there's Josie, who's ten and is just as tall as Megan."
"How is..." Mariah searched her memory. "Chuck?"
"We're divorced. Been eight years now."
"I'm sorry, I didn't know. With two children, I'm sure that's hard."
"It's water under the bridge. Chuck and I get along better now than we did when we were married. He sees the girls every other weekend and most of the summer. Never has missed a child support payment or holiday. The girls adore him."
Shane returned with the two bottles of water. Ana made a point of unscrewing the top off and tilting the bottle toward Mariah.
"BFs forever."
Mariah tapped her bottle against Ana's. "Forever."
They drank at the same time.
A handsome man about Shane's age, wearing a golf shirt and pressed pants, ambled over to Ana and bussed her cheek. "Don't mean to rush you, sweetie, but the cake needs cutting and one or two candles require your immediate attention."
"Mariah, I want you to meet my boyfriend, Derek Bolton. Derek, this is Mariah McBride."
"Really?" He offered his hand, checking her out. "Nice to meet you, Mariah. I've heard a lot about you."
Mariah shook his hand, checking him out as well. "I'm sure you have. It was good of you to put this party together."
"Shane did most of the work. Ana is his right hand man."
"Right hand woman," Shane corrected, joining them. "She's the one who won't let my motley bunch of rodeo clowns and burned-out cattle-branders forget who hands out the paychecks."
"Good thing your crew thinks she makes more money than they do." Derek ushered Ana toward the dining room and raised his voice to shouting level to attract attention. "Cake time. Ana has some duties to perform."
Guests followed or scooted ahead as she and Derek entered the dining room. Mariah saluted Shane with her bottled water. "Interesting scumbags you have in these parts, Youngblood."
"The name is actually Scrooge."
The opening refrain of the song "Happy Birthday" began. Over it, Mariah heard Ana's surprised shriek.
"Oh, my God, Derek. You're lighting a fire in here!"
Sighing, Shane put down his beer. "I better go see what's up."
Mariah watched from the doorway as Ana's friends and family gathered around, finished singing, and cheered her on as she attempted to blow out thirty-four candles on a cake designed to take, maybe, twelve.
Shane emerged from the kitchen with an actual fire extinguisher in his hands. She couldn't blame him. He had a beautiful house and Derek didn't seem to care.
As the song finished, Ana started blowing the candles out, but they re-lit themselves, leaving Ana blowing at candles for quite awhile. Mariah noticed Shane aimed the fire extinguisher more towards Derek than the ruined cake.
"Don't worry," Derek said to the crowd. "I bought some strawberry ice cream for dessert."
Mariah muttered to herself. "If memory serves, Ana's favorite is chocolate."
As the audience applauded her victory over the candles, Mariah faded back into the living room to do a quick sweep of Shane's house. This was not the right time or place to follow up on how things were going with Kelly. But if she hoped to get referrals from Shane, it would be helpful to know what he valued and, if possible, why.
Along one entire wall, behind floor to ceiling cabinets paneled in clear glass, were the obvious gimmees regarding his pro rodeo career. Trophies big and small were on display, along with show ribbons and photos of race horses wreathed in roses. Gold and silver spurs and over-sized belt buckles had their own dedicated paneled case along with other cowboy memorabilia. The dates on the less spectacular trophies went back some thirty years previously, to Little Britches junior rodeo events, including mutton busting and piglet wrestling.
Outside the cabinets, he had family photo
s from those years as well, scattered here and there on tables and narrow walls, most featuring long-married parents and grandparents she guessed, judging by Shane's resemblance to them, and their age progression over time.
He had a younger brother and sister, too, the latter with hair down to her hips, dyed horizontally in various shades of red, brown, black and blonde. Unusual. His brother was a bespectacled type who bore the genetic markers that formed Shane's face if not his tanned athleticism.
She deduced both Shane's father and brother were executives in the oil and gas business because of their button-down shirts, hard-hat logos and the refineries featured in the background of a couple of photos. And judging from the picture of his mother outfitted in Mickey Mouse hospital scrubs amidst similarly dressed workers at her retirement party, she had a long association with a pediatric practice in Aspen.
The rest of the living room was filled with big comfortable furniture, made out of distressed leather and soft upholstery woven in bright zigzag patterns. Red and blue pillows were scattered on the sofas and chairs, while Navajo rugs echoed the colors on the wide-planked floor.
Bold renditions of western art dominated the largest walls, paintings of storied mountains and deep canyons, colored in orange and reds, shadowed in purples and bronze, lit by yellows and white-hot pigmented suns.
He had a picture of Ana's family, too, in the wall case, a photo where he was standing next to Juan, Ana's big brother, with Shane a tag-on to the whole family. Mariah had a few pictures like that with the Garcias, too, since she'd been Ana's sidekick for awhile, taken at Christmas when she needed a family to go to church with, to celebrate. Bird was quite the Old Testament proselytizer but he didn't believe in celebrating Christmas. Too commercialized, he said.
Mariah kept her curiosity contained to what she could see on the first floor, unwilling to take advantage of Shane's hospitality by venturing elsewhere. She tamped down a desire to check out his kitchen, ready to tally the number of snacks hidden there and see if the appetite he'd boasted about was based on truth. It was unnecessary to her present mission. Besides, he was probably in there, being a good host, and she wanted to avoid him as much as possible. He'd made it clear this was an unsuitable occasion for hustling clients, and that was the only reason she had for hanging around longer than it took to give her best birthday wishes to Ana.
But as Mariah sidled her way toward the front door, people armed with bowls of ice cream nodded at her. More than one smiled their hello. Mariah began to meet and greet other partygoers. Since she'd been seen speaking one-on-one with Ana, most people seemed curious enough to come right over and introduce themselves, helping her recall if she'd met them in her growing up years.
Sam Adams, Jr. was there, along with his chatterbox wife. Pablo and Diane Cabrillo introduced their 15 year-old niece, Lucy, explaining she was spending the summer with them, working in the store. Ana's parents, Jose and Jasmin Garcia, both hugged her when they saw her.
Mariah hugged them back, managing to avoid growing misty-eyed when they proclaimed how happy they were to see her. She spent a little time with them, catching up. They had actual pride in their eyes as they made comments about her graduate degrees and advancement in the FBI.
To them, it was like the scandal never happened, and she was grateful to find people in her corner. Coming back to her hometown had been a huge blow to her ego. When she left at 17, she vowed never to return. But on balance, the experience had been positive and she hoped to keep it that way in order to spread the word that she was looking for investigation and security work.
Of course, everybody knew of her, knew her relationship to Bird, and what they had read or heard on the news.
She continued making the rounds, wandering the living room and dining room, eavesdropping or participating in small talk. She learned most people her age were relatively new to Grizzly Springs, moving into the picturesque valley for the quaint century old buildings and small town atmosphere. It was being preserved by the movers and shakers in town. From the way people talked, Shane was among them.
His trail rides were a big draw for tourists, and he continued to build his brand by giving tours of his breeding facilities and workshops on horsemanship. No wonder he was confident in his abilities. They called him the 'Horse Whisperer of the Rockies.'
Apparently, Grizzly Springs was a bedroom community for well-paying Aspen jobs. Other people were employed by precious metal or oil shale mines. They paid good money for workers who didn't mind long commutes to the less populated parts of Colorado's Western Slope.
The biggest source of controversy at the moment seemed to be the installation of the town's second stoplight. It was for a new elementary school that had opened the previous year.
Mariah heard the doorbell pealing as though someone was leaning on it. Instinct told her who it was. Experience, too. She'd noticed since she moved to town, Bird liked to follow her places, having taken to spying on her at odd times of the day and night. He didn't get close enough to spark a conversation or, at least so far, a confrontation. But tonight she was at a party and, in her younger years, he had always liked to use such events as a pseudo invitation to make life a tad more embarrassing for her and a tad more interesting for him.
The story of her life.
Bird's voice was outraged enough to be heard above the ringing and repeating bell. Taking refuge in a spot distant from the door, she looked for Shane, curious to see how he would handle the situation.
He and Ana exchanged glances as both eased their way through the crowd toward the noise. More ruckus broke out outside the door, more yelling. Mariah retreated to the rear of the house in case Bird caught sight of her and became even more agitated.
She sipped her water, ignoring those who were craning their necks to see who was causing the problem. Maybe some of them honestly didn't know. But they soon would, and she'd like to avoid sympathetic glances or worse, pitying ones.
The room emptied. Mariah tucked her purse under her arm and escaped out the back door. Shane had a landscaped yard, fenced in, with plenty of redwood chairs, an incredible outdoor kitchen and a fire pit surrounded by curved benches. A few people were basking in the glow, cowboy-booted feet even with the flames.
His entire business operation was located beyond the fence, the long barn hiding the full view of his property. It ran parallel to a state park rich with hiking and horse trails.
The back gate led to the same concrete walk which intersected the parking lot, stable entrance and Main Street. KSY, Shane's logo, was stamped on the pickup trucks, trailers and horse vans he used for transportation.
She made her way to the street, trying to avoid being seen by Bird, firstly, and anyone else, secondly. As expected, she could hear his distinctive cigarette-hoarsened voice at the front of the house, pitched in high tones of outrage.
"I shoulda been invited! I lived here nigh on fifty years! Y'all know who I am, the life of the party!"
She heard Shane answer but since his voice sounded low and reasonable, Mariah wasn't able to make out the words. She escaped to her SUV. Unfortunately, Bird must have checked it out earlier because all four tires were slashed.
Heaving a long and aggravated sigh, she pulled out her phone and dialed 911.
* * * * *
Shane traversed his porch while Mariah gave her statement. Bird, dressed solely in his overalls with a misshapen old Stetson turned sideways on his head, was sitting on the curb with one of the Sheriff's deputies standing over him. Thankfully, he had retreated to the mumbling stage, having enough experience with law enforcement to know that antagonizing deputies usually led to more than one dry night in jail.
Derek's announcement that Ana was ready to open her gifts had convinced the party goers to return inside Shane's house. It helped Mariah feel less guilty at making a big deal over what was essentially petty vandalism. Shane approached her after the deputy finished his notes and transported Bird to the station.
"I'm sorry you have to go
through this."
"Shane, I'm the one who called. Believe me, I would have skipped the experience if I wasn't prepared for what it entailed."
"Bird says he didn't do it."
"It's important to make the report, though. He's unhappy with me right now and should the vandalism continue, his pattern of behavior may lead to witnesses coming forward and probable cause. Depending on the mood of the Sheriff, it may even be enough to have him charged and arrested for a more extended stint than usual."
"You want him to spend more time in jail?"
"If he continues to vandalize property or harass people, then yes, he should spend time in jail. Might even inspire a trip to rehab, though I've given up hope it'll work. But it's a chance and it keeps him out of trouble and people's hair for awhile, including mine. The deputy said he'd call me when he finishes his report. I'll let you know if there's anything you need to do." She gestured towards his house. "Thanks for the invitation. You were right. Seeing Ana was a real treat."
She started walking down Main Street towards the center of town, where she had her storefront. Shane caught up. "You barely had a chance to talk to her."
"I have some work to finish at my office. And you need to get back to your guests."
"Why not come back and hang out for awhile? She seemed tickled to see you. Jose and Jasmin, too."
"They invited me over for a family dinner next week. I'll catch up with them then."
"What about your SUV? How are you going to get home?"
"I moved to town, remember? It's a short walk."
"I'd feel better if I drove you."
"In the middle of a party you're hosting?" She lifted her jacket, showing him the Glock strapped under her arm. "I'll be fine."
"Nice accessory."
"No worries. See you, Shane."
As usual, he wasn't taking no for an answer. "What if they let Bird go and he comes back?"
"If he does something criminal, he should deal with the consequences. Call the Sheriff."
"He wouldn't be acting this way if he was sober."
"So it's okay in your book?"