by D P Lyle
They heard footsteps on the stairs and looked up to see the Kendalls, flushed with the afterglow of sex.
“Good morning,” Alyss said. “Hungry?”
“Starving,” Debbie said.
Kurt and Debbie took seats at the table. Sam poured coffee for them. Alyss served up eggs and bacon and placed a basket of biscuits on the table. Everybody dug in.
“What do you guys have planned for the day?” Alyss asked the couple.
“Drive around,” Kurt said. “See some of the countryside. Maybe go down to Ouray. I hear it’s beautiful.”
“It is,” Alyss said. “It’s called the ‘Switzerland of the Rockies’.”
“Then, maybe go for a hike this afternoon.”
“What time would you like dinner?” Alyss asked.
“Last night was wonderful,” Kurt said. “But I think I’ll take my bride out tonight. If that’s OK.”
“Of course,” Alyss said. “But, if you change your mind, I’ll fix something here.”
“I’m going into town to pick up a few things,” Sam said. She looked at Shelby. “Want to go with me? I’ll buy you some boots for our horseback ride today.”
“I have shoes.” Shelby wore a pair of black sneakers with silver trim and laces and four-inch thick soles.
Sam looked at them and shook her head.
“What’s wrong with these?” Shelby said.
“They won’t fit in the stirrups,” Sam said. “And you’ll need some jeans.”
“I have jeans.” Shelby tugged at her Raver-style jeans.
Fitted at the waist but with hugely oversized hips and legs, to Sam they looked like denim clown pants.
“They’re too baggy for horses,” Sam said. “You need some Levi’s. I bet I have a pair that’ll fit you. Come on.”
She and Shelby went to Sam’s room where Sam dug a pair of old and faded jeans from her suitcase. “These’ll do.”
“The legs are too skinny,” Shelby said. “Nobody wears these.”
“Around here they do. And if you want to keep your butt on a horse, you’ll need them. Just try them on.”
“But...” Shelby began.
“Humor me.”
*
Sam intended to take Shelby by Clowers’ Outdoor and Mountaineering Store, but when they passed Varney’s she saw it was open for business. She guided the Jeep into the first empty space she saw and they walked back to the store.
The front door stood open and a woman in a light blue dress and a navy sweater, sleeves pushed up to her elbows, was wiping down the checkout counter with a cloth. She had a pleasant face and neatly combed gray hair.
She looked up and smiled as Sam and Shelby entered. “Welcome,” she said. “Can I help you?”
“Are you Louise Varney?” Sam asked.
“Yes.”
“I’m Sam Cody. This is Shelby Cameron.”
Louise offered her hand to Sam and they shook. She looked at Shelby. “Alyss’ daughter?”
“Yes.”
“She’s told me all about you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet.” Louise turned to Sam. “You found Lloyd, didn’t you?”
Sam nodded. “I’m so sorry.”
Louise offered a weak smile.
“Are you OK?”
Louise sighed. “It’s not easy.”
“Why are you here?” Sam asked. “Don’t you want to be home?”
“And what?” Louise replied. “Stare at the walls and cry? I’ve already done that.” Her shoulders gave a sad shrug. “Besides, somebody’s got to run the store.”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
Startled, Sam turned to see Billy Bear standing behind her, a large cardboard box hefted up on one shoulder. She hadn’t heard him walk up.
“I told her to go home. That I’d take care of things, but she’s too bullheaded,” Billy said.
“This is where I belong,” Louise said.
“OK,” Billy said. “I’ll stack these sweaters with the others, then I’m going back up the hill to clear a fallen tree out of one of the streams and finish burying the deer carcass I found yesterday.”
“Deer?” Sam said.
“Looks like somebody cut out what meat they could carry and left the rest. It’s been pretty well chewed up by scavenging critters.”
“This isn’t hunting season,” Sam said.
“No, it ain’t,” Billy said. “And I don’t allow hunting on my property anyway. I find out who did this and I’ll break his neck.” He looked at Louise. “I’ll come back later today and make sure you’re OK.”
“I’ll be fine,” Louise said. “You go ahead. But, come by for dinner. I’ve still got a refrigerator full of stuff. You didn’t make much of a dent in it last night.”
Billy carried the box toward the back of the store where he dropped it to the floor, ripped it open, and began stacking the sweaters on one of the tables.
“We need to get Shelby a shirt and some boots,” Sam said.
Louise directed Shelby toward a rack of pullovers. “Let’s see what we can find for you.”
Sam walked toward Billy. He had emptied the cardboard container and now crushed the empty box flat with his boot. Sam noticed the Timberline logo on the heel.
“How are you doing today?” Billy asked.
“Fine. And you?”
Billy shrugged an “OK.”
“Did you talk to Chief Wade?” Sam asked.
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“And nothing. He’s a jackass.”
Sam nodded toward the floor. “New boots?” she asked.
“Yeah. Just breaking them in.”
“Those the ones Wade’s all hot and bothered about?”
He eyed her with a frown. “Who’s side you on here?”
“Simply making an observation.”
“Sounds more like an accusation.”
Sam held up her hands, palms out. “No. In fact, I don’t believe you’re guilty.”
“But, you’re not sure,” Billy said.
Sam shrugged. “Wade seems to think those boots point the finger at you.”
He stepped close to her, his thick chest only two feet from her face, and looked down. “I special order my boots from Lloyd and Louise. Always have. I’m a little hard to fit. Can’t buy off the shelf, so to speak. The rocks up there are tough on them, so I go through a pair about every six months. ” He looked down at his boots. “I always keep a new pair in reserve. The ones that were stolen were mine, too. I just hadn’t picked them up yet.”
“And Wade knows that?”
“Of course he does. He just don’t care.”
“Why is he so sure you did this?”
“Long story. I’ll tell you about it sometime.”
“I’d like that.”
Billy smiled. “It’s a date then.” He headed toward the door. “I’ll see you later, Louise.”
“Be careful,” she said.
Shelby stepped out of the dressing room, tucking a loose fitting long-sleeved forest green pullover into the jeans Sam had given her. They accentuated her narrow hips and long legs.
“This is all backwards,” Shelby said. “The pants are supposed to be loose and the top tight.”
Sam laughed. “Now, let’s do something about those shoes.”
Fifteen minutes later, Louise had fitted Shelby with a pair of ankle-high boots with deeply treaded soles and rope-like laces. “These are what you need around here. Something that’ll keep you on the ground and upright. You might fall off these things and break something,” Louise said, holding up Shelby’s thick-soled tennis shoes.
Shelby walked back and forth. “These are comfortable.”
Louise rang up their purchases and Sam paid.
“You’re close to Billy, aren’t you?” Sam asked.
“He’s the closest thing to a son Lloyd and I ever had. Haven’t had any real family since my sister died about five years ago.”
“Why do you think Chief Wade suspects h
im?”
“Because that’s the easy answer, isn’t it?”
“How so?”
“You saw someone big. Billy’s that and more. The killer took Billy’s boots. Why would someone steal boots that didn’t fit? Nobody else around here has feet like that.”
“You’re making a good case against Billy,” Sam said.
“Except he didn’t do it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“Still...” Sam began.
“Still nothing. I hear you’re a cop. Is the easy answer always the right one?”
“Not always. Sometimes.”
“Look, Sam. Wade’s nice enough, but he ain’t no real cop. We don’t need one. That’s why he’s been here so long. And he doesn’t care too much for Billy. That’s a known fact.”
“Why?”
“Billy’s the closest thing to a criminal we have around here. He’s been in a few fights. Got busted for growing marijuana. Wade couldn’t prove that though.”
“Never been in any real trouble?”
“A couple of years ago he got drunk and broke up Tankersly's Pool Hall. But he paid the damages so the charges were dropped.”
“And that’s the worst of it?” Sam knew half a dozen guys back home that had done worse than that.
“Yeah. That’s about it.”
Shelby stood before a full-length mirror, spinning one way and then the other as she examined herself. She tugged at her jeans and shirt as if searching for a comfortable arrangement. Sam and Louise shared a brief smile.
“Can I do anything for you?” Sam asked Louise.
“No. But thanks for asking.”
Sam turned to Shelby. “Ready?”
Shelby gave the shirtsleeve one final tug. “Yeah.”
They said their goodbyes to Louise and walked back to Sam’s Jeep. After Sam made a U-turn and headed back toward home, she said to Shelby, “Everything fit OK?”
Shelby fiddled with the laces to her boots. “Mostly. This’ll take some getting used to, but yeah, I think I like these boots. Thanks for getting them for me. And the shirt, too.”
“My pleasure. It’s a good look for you. Shows off your figure.”
Shelby wiggled in the seat. “I like my baggy jeans, though.”
Sam laughed. “You’ll like those after you wear them awhile.”
Shelby wedged a hand in one pocket. “Not much room in here. Good thing I have my backpack.”
“Is that what you call that Elmo thing?”
“Mom hates it. You don’t like it either, do you?”
“Adults never like what teenagers do, but we’ll get over it.”
“I wish mom was as cool as you. And Tiffany.”
Sam looked over at her. “She’s in a little different position than either of us, don’t you think?”
Shelby didn’t say anything.
“What makes Tiffany so cool?’ Sam asked.
“She thinks more like I do. Doesn’t judge me all the time.”
“And your mom does?”
“Constantly. And Tiffany’s younger. More my age. And beautiful and rich.
“Being young, beautiful, and rich doesn’t necessarily make you cool, though,” Sam said. Just an insufferable bitch.
Again, Shelby offered no response. She nervously tugged at her shirt, and then smoothed her hand over her pant leg as if wiping something off her palm.
“Your mom loves you. You know that don’t you?”
Shelby looked down at her feet. “I guess.”
“She does. Maybe more than you realize.”
“Then, why does she pick at me all the time?”
“Because she’s afraid.”
Shelby looked up. “Afraid? Of what?”
“Of losing you.”
“What?”
“She believes that you chose your father over her. She fears that you will grow up and go on with your life and she won’t be part of it. She fears you aren’t getting the guidance you need and that you might get in trouble in LA. And she fears Tiffany will become more of a mother to you than she is.”
“That’s not true.”
“Have you told her that? Told her that you love her? Told her that she will always be part of your life?”
“No. But, she knows that.”
“How does she know? Look Shelby, I don’t want to preach at you or anything like that, but look at your mother’s position. Your father left her. Rejected her. For another woman. A younger woman. And you left her to live with your dad.”
‘That’s not it. I just want to stay in LA with my friends. She’s the one that left and came here.”
“She may have left geographically but don’t you see she feels that your father and you left her emotionally? She felt…she feels like a castaway. Can you see that?”
“But, that’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” When Shelby didn’t respond, Sam continued. “Just think about it. And give her a hug every now and then. OK?”
“OK.”
Chapter 15
Casa Grande.
Casa Muy Grande would be more like it Sam thought as the huge estate came into view.
The expansive, multilevel, rambling log and stone home sat at the end of and well above Gold Creek Road in the deepest part of the valley. From its perch, it commanded a view of the entire valley floor and in the distance the town itself. A serpentine gravel driveway, curbed by a fence of artfully placed boulders and logs, ascended the slope through manicured grounds and ended at a circular flag-stone parking area and a soaring porte-cochere. A stone stairway led to two massive wooden doors flanked by 20-foot tall stained glass panels that extended upward to a sharply slanted roof.
As they climbed the steps, one of the doors opened and a thin attractive Hispanic woman smiled at them.
“Hola,” she beamed, stepping back, allowing them to enter.
If the exterior was impressive, the interior was stunning. The walls of the cavernous entry foyer were of intricately cut redwood marquetry and held several tastefully framed Chagalls, Rockwells, and Remingtons. A ten-foot diameter multi-tiered crystal chandelier seemed to float overhead, while two curving stairways rose to a second floor catwalk.
“I’m Carmelita,” the woman said. “Mr. Eagan is on the back patio.”
They followed her through a dining hall, dominated by a rustic table--a thick slab of polished oak surrounded by twelve chair--and then through a kitchen that was larger than Sam’s house and equipped better than most restaurants. Copper pots of every size and shape hung from the ceiling. French doors and windows welcomed the daylight and opened onto a broad flagstone patio. Beyond lay an Olympic sized swimming pool and a low hacienda style cabana. Further still, a densely treed slope provided a lush background.
Carmelita pushed open one of the doors and Sam, Alyss, and Shelby stepped out onto the patio, which was flanked and partially shaded by two soaring spruce trees.
Burt stood from his chair at one of several circular patio tables and greeted them. “Welcome,” he said.
“Your home is beautiful,” Sam said
“I’ll give you the nickel tour when we get back from our ride,” Burt said. He looked at Shelby. “You look different.”
“Yeah. Aunt Sam dressed me for the occasion.”
“You look like a regular cowgirl,” Burt said. “Can I get any of you something to drink before we take off? Coffee? Soft drinks?”
“No, thanks,” Sam said. Alyss and Shelby shook their heads.
“OK. Let’s go.”
They climbed into Burt’s black Range Rover and drove the half-mile to the stables, where a Hispanic man, wearing a broad straw hat, met them. He stood between two sleek sorrels.
“This is Carlos Juerta,” Burt said. “He runs the stables for us. You met his wife Carmelita at the house.”
Carlos smiled and offered a brief nod.
“Who do you have saddled for us today, Carlos?” Burt asked.
“For the l
adies,” Carlos said, “Betty and Chastity.” He extended one set of reins to Sam and laid the other set across Alyss’ open palm. He then walked back into the stables and reappeared leading a muscular, black Arabian with a nearly perfect white diamond on his forehead. “And for the senorita, Storm.”
“Oh,” Shelby said. “He’s beautiful.”
Storm snorted and bobbed his head in apparent agreement. Shelby stroked his neck, causing him to nuzzle his cheek against her.
“He seems to like you, too,” Burt said.
They mounted up, Burt riding his stocky roan Allegro, and headed off over the rolling terrain.
For someone who had been on a horse only twice and never in an open range, Shelby had no problem. She and Storm zigzagged through the meadow, racing ahead, before circling back only to trot off in a different direction. Sam, Alyss, and Burt rode at an easy pace, saying little, absorbing the beauty of the valley.
Sam moved ahead of them to keep an eye on Shelby and to allow Burt and Alyss the privacy to talk if they wanted. She could tell from they way they looked at each other that chemistry had begun to work its magic.
Sam crested a rise in the meadow and was rewarded with a view of an expansive meadow of green and gold grasses, dotted with flowers of red, purple, and yellow, and a few hundred yards ahead, a clear blue lake. Its mirror-like surface reflected the few cottony clouds that drifted across the valley.
Burt and Alyss rode up beside her and reined in their horses. “What do you think?” he asked.
“Incredible. Nothing like home,” Sam said.
“That’s why I live here,” he said.
“It is intoxicating.”
“You should think about moving here. Wade could use some help and we can always use another pretty lady.”
“Thanks,” Sam smiled. “You and Chief Wade good friends?”
“Good enough,” he grinned. “I could put in a word for you.”
An invitation to the boy’s club, Sam thought. “It’s tempting. But my boss, Sheriff Charlie Walker, would hunt me down if I didn’t come back.”
Burt laughed. He nudged his horse forward, toward where Shelby sat astride Storm near the lake’s edge. Alyss followed.
Sam watched them move away. Somehow she couldn’t picture Burt and Wade as friends. Burt was obviously educated, worldly, and charming; Wade more a good old boy. A political alliance, money and the law, she could see, but buddy-buddy didn’t seem to fit.