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SPIRIT LAKE
Spirit Lake
A Coyote Wells Mystery
Published by Castletown Publishing
Copyright © 2018 Vickie McKeehan
All rights reserved.
Spirit Lake
A Coyote Wells Mystery
Copyright © 2018 Vickie McKeehan
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic format without written permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, locales, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, businesses or companies, is entirely coincidental.
Castletown Publishing
ISBN-10: 1723535737
ISBN-13: 978-1723535734
Published by
Castletown Publishing
Printed in the USA
Titles Available at Amazon
Cover art by Vanessa Mendozzi
You can visit the author at:
www.vickiemckeehan.com
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http://vickiemckeehan.wordpress.com/
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The land is sacred. These words are at the core of your being.
The land is our mother, the rivers our blood.
Take our land away and we die. That is, the Indian in us dies.
Mary Brave Bird, Lakota
Table of Contents
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Cast of Characters
Spirit Lake
by
VICKIE McKEEHAN
Castletown Publishing
Copyright © 2018 Vickie McKeehan
1
Coyote Wells was a town in transition. The mayor had resigned, forced out due to a combo of circumstances. Between cheating on his wife and the sins of his father, Fleet Barkley’s name had been scratched off the plaque hanging in the hallway inside the municipal building.
Candidates were lining up to take his place. The council had called a special election. A wedge had formed. Squabbles around town tended to break out over nothing, like the one taking place inside the Coyote Chocolate Company between Raynelle Stokely and Gemma Channing, the owner of the shop.
“You can’t park that eyesore along Water Street. It takes up a valuable parking space,” Raynelle grumbled.
Gemma’s whiskey-colored eyes flared back at Raynelle. Absently, she pushed a few strands of smoky caramel hair away from her face. “It’s not an eyesore, it’s a classic.”
Raynelle lifted her chin in defiance. “A 1957 Mercedes is a classic. That old panel truck is an eyesore any day of the week no matter how much work Dale Hooper put into getting it running.”
“That old panel truck belonged to my grandfather. It stays put where I parked it. I’m not moving it and you can’t make me. I’m using it the same way Poppy did…for advertising.”
“We’ll see about that. My son is running for mayor and when he wins, he’ll change the city ordinances and make you move that ugly hunk of junk.”
“Thanks for the warning. Arlo won’t be getting my vote.”
Raynelle threw up her hands. “Who the heck cares? You and your so-called psychic ability are jokes around here.” The older woman let out a huff. “And digging up a poor dead girl thirty years in the ground just to show off is ridiculous.”
“We’re trying to find out who she is,” Gemma snapped. “It just shows how out of touch and whacked you really are.”
“Reiner Caulfield had the right idea when he couldn’t ID her right after it happened,” Raynelle huffed out. “What makes you think you and that idiot police chief can ID her when Reiner couldn’t? You and that fancy institute down in San Francisco need to stay out of it. Some made-up, phony psychic stuff don’t make you any better than the rest of us.”
“At least I’m trying to do something,” Gemma fired back. “That’s more than I can say for you or Reiner Caulfield.”
Lianne tried playing peacemaker. “Raynelle, why don’t you go over there and sit at that corner table and I’ll bring you a nice iced coffee.”
The older woman pouted and stared down the petite Lianne. “I don’t take to those fancy schmancy coffee drinks. Coffee was made to drink hot. If I want ice in my drink, I’ll drink tea.”
Lianne gritted her teeth. “Fine. I’ll fix you an iced tea.”
“Never mind,” Raynelle muttered. “I’m taking this to Lando Bonner. Fat lot of good that will do me, though, since Miss Priss here is sleeping with the Chief of Police.”
“They’re getting married,” Lianne growled, beginning to lose her temper. “They’re planning an August wedding. And I’m one of her bridesmaids.”
“Second wedding,” Raynelle pointed out. “Second one ’cause they couldn’t get the first one to last longer than five minutes without this one walking out the door and hightailing it back to Mommy.”
“That’s none of your business,” Gemma replied, her voice rising in anger. “So just butt out. That’s between me and Lando. Besides, how many times have you walked down the aisle, Raynelle? Last time I checked Arlo had three stepdaddies.”
“Yeah? Well, at least I wasn’t fool enough to go and name my kids Lando, Luke, and Leia like Lydia Bonner did.” Raynelle wrinkled up her nose. “What kind of stupid mother names her kids after Star Wars characters?”
“I’ll be sure to pass along your sentiments to Lydia the next time you and Arlo want a late-night supper. In fact, you can forget about getting anything from Captain Jack’s. I’m sure Lydia and Leia will be glad to lock the door when they see you two get out of your car.”
“So I take it your whore of a mother won’t be invited to the wedding? Is she still down in San Francisco marrying men for their money?”
“Get
out of my shop. Now!”
Raynelle stomped toward the door. “You and Lando deserve each other.”
“No one’s inviting you to the wedding,” Gemma shouted at Raynelle’s back. “I can tell you that much!”
She whirled on Lianne. “What possible difference could it make that I parked that truck in front of my own store? What’s it to Raynelle Stokely? It’s not bothering anybody. Not a single customer has complained except for her.”
“You know as well as I do Raynelle complains about everything. Remember when she claimed to find a dog hair in the chocolate and wanted a free box.”
Gemma growled low in her throat. “She and Natalie Henwick are the reasons I don’t bring Rufus here anymore.”
“Yeah, but Raynelle also bitched when we ran that special on truffles two weeks ago. She said she didn’t like any of the flavors we offered, said they tasted like straw.”
Gemma rolled her eyes. “Those were some of my best sweet and spicy white chocolate trios, too. The ones I dipped in that gooey ganache glaze everyone raved about. Some people just do not appreciate gourmet candy. That old bat is one of them. Thank goodness everyone else liked the taste.”
“Then we should offer them again at the beginning of next week. Monday we’ll make it the special of the day.”
“Yeah, like an in-your-face, up-yours-Raynelle kind of thing. I like it.” Gemma made a face. “Listen to me. This is my dark side showing. I hope it doesn’t scare you off. But we are talking about a woman who yells at the neighbor kids to get off her lawn if they step a toe onto her perfect grass.”
“I know. As a newcomer, I guess I should register to vote. Is there any chance Arlo might win?”
“No. But it wouldn’t hurt for us to register and support his opponent.”
“Who is that?”
“We should ask Leia.”
Lianne stifled a laugh. “If you don’t know who it is then maybe Arlo has more of a chance than you think.”
“Don’t say that.” About that time, the door of the shop opened, and Gemma’s grandmother walked in. “Just the woman we need who knows everything about everything in this town. Who is Arlo Stokely running against?”
Using her cane to get around, Paloma Coyote gave her granddaughter a strange look. “Politics is definitely not your forte, is it?”
“Raynelle was already in here giving me a hard time. Don’t you start, too.”
“Yes, but this is how Fleet Barkley got elected in the first place. No one bothers to find out details until idiots have already been sworn in.” Paloma dropped into a chair at one of the tables.
“You still haven’t told me who’s running against Arlo.”
“He’s running unopposed.”
Gemma and Lianne exchanged stunned looks. “That’s not good,” Gemma muttered, going over to her grandmother and taking a seat. “We can’t have Arlo for a mayor. He’s nuts. He thinks the moon landing was faked.”
“Then come up with a better candidate.”
“Anyone but Arlo.”
“That’s not good enough,” Paloma grumbled. “I tried to talk Ansel Conover into doing it. Got a great big fat no in response.”
“But you’re the former mayor. You can’t let Arlo get elected,” Gemma raged. “It isn’t right. The town deserves better.”
“Like I said before, find a suitable candidate and draft him or her into going up against Arlo before it’s too late.”
“How much time do we have?”
“We?” Paloma sent her a look of pure amusement. “Election day is the first Tuesday in September, a little over six weeks from today. You’re running out of time.”
“Six weeks?” Gemma shifted in her chair to stare at Lianne. “Hmm. Could you maybe sweet-talk Luke into doing it?”
Lianne nervously swiped back a stray lock of her sable-brown hair, her hazel eyes growing wider. “Luke? No way. He’s already so busy at the clinic that we barely have any time to spend together as it is. I’m not bugging him about becoming a mayoral candidate, especially at this late date.”
“But think about it. You could be the power behind the throne, the puppet master, making big decisions with Luke as the figurehead. The mayor in this town also acts as the city manager, hiring and firing capability. You’d be able to put that on your resume.”
Lianne snickered at the notion. “Why is it you always seem to be trying to get me another job? You’re dreaming, Gemma.”
“Maybe. But we need to act and act fast. Arlo Stokely is not going to be mayor if I have anything to do with it.” She angled toward Paloma. “Come on, help me out here.”
“What is it you want me to do?”
“Who was your second choice after Ansel? What about Van?”
“No, Van has too many scrapes with the law. Elnora Kidman was actually my first choice.”
“The librarian? Excellent. And a woman to boot.” But then she noticed Paloma wasn’t that eager or excited. “What’s wrong? Did Elnora turn you down?”
“Not exactly. She ignored my public pleas inside the library and then refused to take my calls after that.”
“But she has to do it. Maybe she’ll take mine.” With that, Gemma picked up her cell phone and moved through the shop and into the storage area where she could talk in private, leaving Paloma and Lianne to shake their heads.
“Elnora isn’t going to run for mayor, is she?” Lianne said to the older woman.
“No. She and Ansel are already talking about retirement.”
Lianne muffled a laugh. “But you could’ve mentioned that to Gemma.”
“I could have, but then it wouldn’t be near as funny as watching her get all worked up about the prospect.”
“What can I get you to drink? An iced mocha maybe?”
“That sounds wonderful. And bag up some of those chunks of dark chocolate with the peanuts for later.”
“You got it.”
“Why is Gemma so adamant that Arlo not become mayor?”
Lianne told her about Raynelle’s rant.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake. The scary thing is Arlo is just as angry about every silly thing that Raynelle is. Like mother, like son. Crazy old coot is convinced Reiner Caulfield was, and still is, a saint. You know he thinks Louise Rawlins got a raw deal, don’t you? And he wants to replace Lando with a guy he knows down in Bakersfield.”
“Oh, my God. So that’s one more reason Gemma thinks Arlo’s got a screw loose. We have to do something.”
“Well, you can count Elnora out,” Gemma informed them as she went behind the counter and took out a big chunk of chocolate with salted caramel on top. “She and Ansel are talking about buying an RV and driving around the country. Becoming mayor would completely rule that out. And she’s in love, wants to do whatever makes Ansel happy.”
“Why don’t you do it?” Lianne suggested.
“Oh, no, not me. I’m too literal. I have absolutely zero tact. Tell her, Paloma.”
Paloma grinned at that. “Zero tact and Gemma go hand in hand. She’s too much like me.”
“But Gemma’s a Coyote, she’s your granddaughter. It’s in her blood,” Lianne reminded them. “It’d be…”
“A huge mistake,” Gemma finished for her. “But if Arlo gets elected, Lando will be out of a job. What kind of way is that to start a marriage?”
“Did he say anything to you about it?”
“Only that Arlo is a walking idiot. He’ll quit before he gets fired.”
“We can’t let this happen,” Lianne muttered, beginning to get the seriousness of the situation. “Who do we know that would run…and win? Everyone I can think of is super busy.”
Gemma noticed Paloma had a mischievous look in her eye. “What are you thinking?”
“I have the perfect person. What about Nova?”
“Van’s wife? Sure. How do we talk her into it?”
“We’ll need to be crafty and make sure she doesn’t catch on to what we’re doing. Are you and Lando free to come to my house thi
s weekend for a cookout?”
“Absolutely.”
Paloma glanced at Lianne as she brought over her drink. “You and Luke come, too. The more, the merrier. I’ll get Leia and Zeb there and maybe Lydia. We have to show Nova that she’s the best candidate around.”
“Just tell me what you want Lando and me to do and say and we’ll make it happen.”
“Nova won’t be an easy sell. She’ll be skeptical, so we just have to hold her hand. Once we convince her, we boost up her self-confidence, use the fact that she’s a great organizer, a doer, and make sure she understands she’s the best woman for the job.”
“Got it. I’ll make sure Lando gets it, too.”
She left the panel truck parked in front of the store and walked the few blocks home. The warm evening made her realize that one day she might have to consider installing an air conditioning unit in her grandparents’ century-old house, the house she’d talked Lando into moving to after they tied the knot. That discussion had taken some persuasion, even though for the most part he was already living there. But in the end, he’d known that her house had significantly more sentimental value than his. Yet it didn’t make any sense to give up the beach house either. So they compromised. The first in a long line of such deals that made life between them so much easier.
Her chocolate Lab Rufus was waiting for her at the front door, tongue hanging out and wagging his tail in greeting. “Hey there, handsome. What did you do all day?”
Rufus licked her hand.
“I’m hoping to make Lando a nice supper, using that chicken we had left over from last night. Chicken tacos, I think. Are you hungry, too?”
Rufus woofed and followed her into the kitchen.
She got to work shredding the meat and whipping up a marinade that would hopefully keep it moist and the flavor locked in. But she realized she needed fresh red and yellow peppers to add to the mix, maybe some cilantro to spice things up, and headed out the back door into the garden.
Rufus trailed after her, past the fluffy hydrangeas and the pop of fire lilies. But even before she reached the bed of pepper plants, she noticed part of her raised beds had been trampled. Footprints, large and very human, had purposely rubbed out most of her herbs.
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