by Sylvia Nobel
His expression remained quizzical, but he did not press me further. Elated yet edgy about Tally’s possibly explosive reaction to my decision, I still managed to put away three helpings of Ronda’s spicy chicken enchilada casserole topped with guacamole and garnished with a mound of chopped lettuce and tomatoes. While we ate, through a series of judiciously worded questions, I was able to verify Ruth’s version of the family history.
“Unfortunate, but true,” Ronda remarked with a slight sniff, piling a dome of sour cream on her wedge of casserole. “Bad luck does seem to follow her around. She’s always had a real ‘woe is me’ attitude with a capital W.” She arched a guarded glance into the hallway and lowered her voice to just above a whisper. “Tally and I have lived with her moodiness our whole lives and we’ve decided that she’s not really happy unless she has something to complain about.”
Grimacing, Tally chimed in, “Seems like she lives under this little black cloud. Instead of enjoying life she spends all her time waiting for the next shoe to fall. In her case it seems to be a self-fulfilling prophecy.”
“Yeah,” Ronda concurred with an emphatic nod. “Riley’s death is just another piece in her personal puzzle of doom.”
It was the opening I’d been waiting for. “I notice neither of you refer to him as Uncle Riley. Why is that?”
“Well, technically speaking he hasn’t been our uncle for over ten years,” Ronda stated. “He and Dad always stayed in touch, but he didn’t come around as often after Aunt Ginny died.”
“So…what kind of a person was he?”
They exchanged a protracted stare before Ronda spoke. “We were just talking earlier about how bizarre it is that he of all people would die in such a mysterious manner. If it had been someone else he’d have been fascinated with the situation.”
“What do you mean?”
“He was a huge mystery buff. Just devoured whodunits and a lot of times he’d pass them along to us.”
I grinned. “I can relate to that. Mysteries are my first choice of reading material too.”
Ronda gave me a knowing look. “I’d be surprised if you’d said otherwise. Anyway,” she continued, “he got a big kick out of attending these murder mystery weekends that are sometimes held at old hotels, especially the ones that are rumored to be haunted. You know, where all the guests get a list of clues to follow and the one who solves the mystery wins something.”
Tapping a forefinger to his lips, Tally added thoughtfully, “I think one of the major reasons he bought Hidden Springs was his fascination with the old hotel’s history.”
Ronda’s gaze turned inward. “Yeah, that and the fact that he loved the outdoors. Aunt Ginny wasn’t much for camping, but he’d go off for days at a time. He mentioned that the Hidden Springs property is adjacent to a wilderness area so I’m sure that played a part in his decision to buy it too. It’s such a shame. I always liked Riley. He was…a unique guy.”
“How so?”
“Well…how should I phrase this,” she mused, munching on a tortilla chip. “I guess you’d call him a Renaissance man. Besides all the outdoor activities, he loved classical music, he was a gourmet cook and in addition to mystery novels he loved history and philosophy. He was always repeating lines of poetry and he was well-known for quoting some of the great philosophers when he handed down sentences in court.” She giggled. “Some newspaper reporter at the Arizona Republic dubbed him the ‘proverb judge.’ I’m sure him citing Ralph Waldo Emerson was lost on most of the people who stood before his bench.”
Tally interjected, “What puzzled me was why he and Dad were such good friends.”
“Why do you say that?” I asked, wondering if I dared eat a fourth helping of the casserole. Better not.
He hitched one shoulder slightly. “Because it didn’t seem like they had much in common besides their mutual interest in ranching, hunting and books. Our dad wasn’t the easiest guy in the world to get along with.” His sheepish grin was revealing. Ginger had regaled me with stories of Joe Talverson’s gruff personality and fiery temper. Except for an occasional outburst Tally seemed fairly even-tempered, but there were times I could see glimpses of Ruth’s brooding behavior.
“Did you interact much with him?”
“Sure,” Ronda put in, popping another chip into her mouth. “We saw Aunt Ginny a lot more than him, but when he did visit he was always really nice to us. He’d bring books and toys. Oh, and he loved pulling practical jokes on us.”
“How did he and your dad meet?” I asked her.
“In elementary school. After his family moved here from Prescott, Riley’s dad bought the old Circle B Ranch and he also worked at the feed store. Ma was in the same grade as his sister, Charlotte, only a year behind Dad and Riley.”
I raised a brow. “Oh? I didn’t realize they’d all been acquainted for that long.”
Tally grinned and pushed away from the table. “Not a difficult task back then. Ranching families all knew each other. Castle Valley was just a wide spot in the road and there was only one school. Aunt Ginny was three years his senior so it was kind of a surprise to everyone when Riley married her.”
Ronda eyes grew wistful. “Not to me. She was really pretty…and fun. She loved kids. Always had a ready smile. Gosh, some of my best memories are of us playing cards and board games together. We’ll have to show you pictures. She’s the spitting image of our maternal grandmother.”
“You might find this interesting,” Tally interposed. “When Riley decided to study law after high school he and Aunt Ginny moved out East. Guess where?”
I shrugged.
“Philadelphia.”
“No kidding?”
“Yep. Apparently he gained quite a reputation in the prosecutor’s office for having an unusually high conviction rate.”
Ronda said, “Aunt Ginny bragged that he was the darling of the local media and very popular in Philadelphia social circles. I guess the women liked him a lot too.”
Remembering Riley’s dark good looks I didn’t doubt that. “How long ago did he live there?”
Humor shimmered in Tally’s brown eyes. “Long before your time at the Inquirer. Let’s see…you were probably all of eight years old.”
“Things were sailing along great for them when Aunt Ginny developed breast cancer,” Ronda inserted, rising to clear the dishes from the table. “She wanted to be closer to Ma so they moved to Phoenix. She was in remission for five or six years before the cancer came back. When that happened Ma insisted Aunt Ginny come and live here at the ranch so she could take care of her. It was a pretty awful time. After she died Ma was so depressed she didn’t leave her room for months. Riley stayed in Phoenix after that and we only heard from him a couple of times a year until he bought Hidden Springs. I think we saw more of him during this past year than in the previous ten.”
“So, you’ve met his new wife?”
Ronda said, “We stopped and talked with Riley and La Donna at the Iron Skillet a few times, we saw them together with Charlotte at the rodeo last spring and then again at the Gold Dust Days parade.”
“What do you think about their separation and him moving his girlfriend into the hotel?” I watched them both carefully for their reactions.
“I didn’t even know about that until a couple of days ago,” Ronda murmured, looking uncomfortable.
Tally shook his head slowly, his expression introspective. “Riley never hid the fact that he enjoyed the company of women, but…even for him that kind of behavior was surprising.”
“Did you also hear about the gold coins missing from his safe deposit box?”
Tally’s gaze narrowed with suspicion. “Why are you asking so many questions about Riley?”
Might as well ease him into it. “Well, partly because I’m just curious and partly because your mother seems…exceptionally upset by what happened to him.”
“We’re all upset about it,” Ronda remarked while stacking plates in the dishwasher. She paused and turned somber e
yes to me. “It’s not every day that a person you’ve known all your life dies in such an awful manner. It bugs me that nobody seems to have any idea who may have done it or why.”
“No, not every day. But that reminds me,” I said, returning my attention to Tally. “Did you know a guy named Randy Moorehouse was back in town?”
Dead silence for a few seconds before he answered gravely, “Yeah, I heard.”
“Why didn’t you mention it to me?”
“I didn’t think it would matter one way or the other.”
“Well, it didn’t until Tugg filled me in on his background. Does it bother you knowing he’s living here in Castle Valley again?”
He hesitated slightly. “I don’t know.”
“You think he may have had something to do with the judge’s death?”
“Don’t know. He certainly had sufficient reason to hate him.”
“Especially if he was innocent of the charges against him.”
A little shrug. “We’ll probably never know.”
“Tugg said you two have known each other quite awhile.”
“Yeah,” Tally said, his eyes reconnecting with Ronda’s. “We went to school with him and his sister Rulinda. Their mom, Jolene, ran the flower shop up until last year when she had a mild stroke. They had a pretty tough life.”
“How so?”
Ronda jumped in. “They all got regular beatings from their old man before he drank himself into an early grave. Rulinda was a little rough around the edges, but Randy, he always had an in-your-face attitude.”
Even though it was a serious subject, I couldn’t help asking, “I have to know. Why was he called Pig Pen?”
Tally’s irreverent smile lightened the somber mood. “Probably because he smelled like one.”
Ronda wrinkled her nose in agreement. “He’s not kidding. I don’t know why, but the guy always smelled to high heaven, like he mainlined raw garlic and onions.”
“It was so bad nobody wanted to sit next to him in class,” Tally concurred, passing me a wry grin. “Either he never bathed, never heard of deodorant, or both. Whatever, it earned him that distinction.”
“Did people call him that to his face?”
“Nobody was that stupid. The guy was built like a sumo wrestler and he always carried a knife in one boot. People gave him a wide berth. After he joined that outlaw biker gang most folks weren’t too surprised when he was arrested for hacking up his girlfriend.” He paused, looking reflective. “Throughout the trial and afterwards he maintained that one of the other members was responsible for the crime.”
“Have you seen him since his release?”
The frown lines between his brows deepened. “No, and why do you want to know? Kendall, what’s going on?”
Oops! I’d crossed the line with one too many questions. Fortunately, he was distracted when the phone rang. Ronda rose to answer it. “Yeah, that would be great,” I heard her say. “We just finished with dinner so come any time.” She cradled the receiver and turned towards us. “Lucy’s on her way over with a movie if you guys are interested in watching it with us.”
Oh yeah, that’s what I wanted to do. Spend my evening in the company of a woman who hated my guts. I wondered what her reaction would be when she got a load of my engagement ring. It troubled me that not only was she Ronda’s best friend, she regularly visited the Starfire Ranch to ride her horse that she boarded. From what I could tell she still had her sights set on Tally and after the wedding we were bound to run into each other on the property. Not a happy thought.
I pushed away from the table and stood. “Thanks, but I’ve got a ton of laundry to do and a full day ahead of me tomorrow.”
Ronda gave a careless shrug. “Just thought I’d ask. What about you, Tally?”
“Nope. I’ve got to call Ted back and finish some paperwork before I head over to Kendall’s place.” He smiled at me, a wicked glimmer in his eyes. “We haven’t had much quality time together these past couple of weeks and we’ve got some heavy duty celebrating to do.”
Ronda grinned knowingly. “Gotcha.” To me she asked, “So, how’d you like your engagement present?”
I clapped my hands together. “She’s fabulous! I can’t wait to ride her.” It dawned on me then that the pressure was on to find an equally unique gift for Tally. How the heck was I going to top a horse? At the kitchen door he helped me into my jacket then grabbed the collar and pulled me close to him. We exchanged a smoldering look and I whispered, “I’ll see you later, big guy. And I’m serious about making sure this will be a night you won’t soon forget.”
“You’ll get no argument from me.” His fervent kiss sent a fiery tingle all the way down to the tips of my toes. He drew back and said in a low husky tone, “I’ll get this work done as fast as I can and be on your doorstep no later than ten.”
Good. That would give me a couple of hours to tidy up the place, chill a bottle of wine and relax in a leisurely bubble bath. I gave him a coy wink. “I’ll be waiting.”
I pushed outside into the icy night air and literally skipped down the porch steps, my spirits soaring. I felt more optimistic than I had in weeks. Things were finally going my way. As I drove away from the Starfire, I twirled the diamond ring on my finger as I weighed my options. I could approach Tally tonight regarding Ruth’s plea for help and fire up a whopping argument or I could keep quiet and enjoy an evening of blissful romance. The decision was not difficult. My news could darn well keep until tomorrow. I couldn’t wait to get back into the game again. After weeks of idling in neutral my imagination kicked into overdrive as the list of story possibilities spread out before me like a stretch of wide open road. First on the agenda would be to visit the crime scene at Hidden Springs. After that, there was certainly no shortage of potential suspects awaiting my cross examination—from Randy Moorehouse to Winston Pendahl to La Donna Gibbons and Marissa Van Steenholm—plus all the enticing unknowns which would include painstaking research into Judge Gibbons’s past court cases, chiefly those involving homicides.
As soon as I reached my place I parked the truck and hurried inside, even though it would have been nice to linger outdoors and savor the desert panorama illuminated under the silvery light of the winter moon. I had slightly less than two hours to get everything prepared.
Marmalade greeted me by throwing herself down at my feet. She rolled onto her back demanding to be noticed. I stooped to rub her cream-colored tummy. “Hey, baby girl, I’m back.” Like a puppy, she followed me from room to room as I scurried about setting the stage for what I hoped would be an unforgettable romantic interlude.
The blinking light on my phone caught my attention and I quickly scrolled through the list of numbers. Oh boy. Mom had called again. We’d been playing phone tag for over a week now. And there was another number I didn’t recognize with a Pennsylvania area code. I set the phone in the base. I’d deal with the calls tomorrow. After starting a load of laundry, I lit a fire in the fireplace. Then, I strategically positioned jars of scented candles in the living room and bedroom, tidied up the kitchen, slid a bottle of wine into the refrigerator and finally immersed myself in a steaming tub filled with peach scented bubble bath where I allowed myself a full half hour to unwind from the day’s events.
My skin pink from soaking, I dabbed on perfume, freshened my makeup, applied red lipstick and slipped into the lacy teddy, thigh high stockings and four inch heels. The results were spectacular if I do say so myself.
Wrapping myself in the sheer black negligee, I could not refrain from smiling as I imagined the look on Tally’s face. I arranged my long curly hair in an alluring style and appraised the final results in the full-length mirror. Yep. Pretty hot stuff. I looked like an ad right out of Victoria’s Secret. It was going to be so great.
My heels clicking on the tile floor, I rushed around lighting the candles. Then I stood back and surveyed my handiwork. Perfect. Everything was perfect. I’d no sooner turned on soft music and switched off the lamp than I
saw headlights lighting the driveway. Nine-fifty. Right on time.
My heart pounding in anticipation, I draped myself in a suggestive position on the couch and waited. And then I waited some more. He was sure taking his sweet time getting to the door.
When I finally heard his light knock I called out, “Come and get it, cowboy!” After several seconds of silence, I wondered if he’d heard me. “I said come in,” I repeated in a lilting tone.
Over the music, I heard a muffled, “Kendall?” and noticed the knob turning. Why didn’t he just use his key? Assuming that he’d forgotten it, I rose from the couch, struck a sexy pose and whipped the door open.
“Hey, cowboy, what do you think of thi…?” The words died on my lips. Great shockwaves of mortification rolled over me as I stared in disbelief into the stunned blue eyes of my ex-fiancé Grant Jamerson.
7
“What do I think?” Grant answered, slowly breaking into a mischievously lecherous grin, his wide-eyed gaze skimming over my slightly clad body. “That I’ve died and gone straight to heaven. Talk about an unexpected welcome. Zowee!”
Dumbfounded, I was unable to formulate a proper response, or any response at all for that matter. I clutched the see-through gown tightly around my middle as if that would do any good.
“You sure weren’t easy to find. What are you doing out here in the middle of friggin’ nowhere?” A hint of petulance underscored his words.
I finally located my absent voice. “I think a better question is what the hell are you doing here?”
An odd look marched across his clean-cut features. “Two reasons. Officially, I’m here to do a piece on Judge Riley Gibbons’s funeral next week.”
“Why?”
“Because he used to live in Philadelphia.”
“So? That was twenty years ago.”
“True. But apparently he was kind of a legend in the DA’s office, ran with the muckety muck of high society and was on the fast track for governor.” He shot me a disarming grin. “But probably more importantly, he and my new editor were still close personal friends.”