Bosco held up his phone. “I looked them up online. These guys have only been performing together for less than a year. They tour locally, playing any dive that will have them.”
“Usually not for long,” Dale tossed in. “That lead singer with the fake hair has an arrest record for car theft.” He leaned toward Gemma. “Still sticking with the piano routine that I gave you? Still practicing those chords? No slacking off, I hope.”
“Nope. I’m getting better at it, just ask Rufus and Lando. I practice until their ears can’t take it anymore. You could always stop by and check up on me.”
“Maybe I’ll do that,” Dale teased. “Spot check your progress. Mind if I bring Denise along with me?”
“Not at all. Is she here tonight?”
Dale widened his smile. “She even got a babysitter and everything. Looks like I’m back in her good graces.”
“Try to stay there this time,” Gemma cautioned. “Seriously though, be good to her.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not messing this up again.”
Jimmy sidled up to the others. “Notice how no one’s dancing. You try connecting on the dance floor to that crap.”
“What’s the point of having a band if the clientele doesn’t dance to the music?” Gemma pointed out. “With us on stage, they’re almost always on their feet.”
“Which is why Fortitude blows these guys out of the water,” Lando said mildly.
Behind him he heard Zeb’s voice. “What kind of music is this?”
Sticking her fingers in her ears, Leia shook her head. “I’m not sure I can listen to this for long. It’s giving me a headache already.”
“Half the people in here will need aspirin by the time you guys get to perform,” Luke said. “Good thing I brought some with me,” Lianne cracked. “Just not enough for everyone.”
The heavy banging went on forty-five minutes past Dirty Poison’s scheduled end time. It took them an extra twenty minutes just to remove all the amplifiers into the wings.
Which meant Fortitude didn’t take the stage until it was pushing eleven o’clock. The break in between sets caused a restlessness to ripple through the crowd.
By the time Lando led off with a rendition of “Tumbling Dice,” everybody got to their feet, ready to rock and roll. Gemma followed it up with a song by Linda Ronstadt, getting the crowd into the music and moving to the beat of “It’s So Easy” before segueing into the vocals for “You’re No Good.”
On keyboard, Dale queued up the intro to Journey’s “Separate Ways.” Lando took over on vocals, performing Steve Perry’s part. When Jimmy finished up the guitar solo at the end, Radley began on drums. The killer intro to “When the Levee Breaks” got the crowd hooting and hollering. With Dale’s keyboard and Bosco on bass guitar, the duo showcased their talents, rising up together in the full instrumental as applause broke out and people took to the dance floor.
For the next two hours, Fortitude played without a break, bridging rock with various soulful blues offerings. They ebbed and flowed into melody, at times shaking the rafters with their unique sound.
Gemma and Lando belted out a string of duets beginning with “The Next Time I Fall” and ending with a lively “Islands in the Stream.”
They got the mass of people bouncing off the walls with Seger’s “Old Time Rock & Roll” before topping things off with their finale, a singalong where they invited the crowd to join them in vocals to “Don’t Stop Believin’” at the top of their lungs. Everyone knew the words, off key or not, and had no problem bringing the chorus to the finish line.
When they ran off the stage, Fortitude left the throng wanting more.
But backstage there was an underlying grumbling that Greendeer had, once again, screwed them.
They sent Lando out to deal with the man.
Lando caught Greendeer as he was tallying up receipts. Prepared for an argument, he ambled up to the bar. “Look, Adam, I realize you want to try out new talent, and that’s your right as the owner. No one questions that. But we didn’t go on tonight until eleven, which actually violates the contract you signed. Fortitude started out here years ago and appreciated the venue you gave us. But we’re all just working people who do this once a week because we love music. Spending our night off waiting in the wings for a metal band to finish up makes us think there’s no real trust between us anymore. We’re tired of getting treated like we…”
Adam stopped long enough to look up. “Don’t worry. I’ve been getting complaints all night. Dirty Poison won’t be coming back.”
“Okay. So does that mean next Saturday night we go on at the usual time?”
“Nine p.m. sharp.”
Lando tapped the counter. “All right. Then I guess we’ll see you then.”
The group waited to learn their fate in the parking lot. Lando walked out looking for Gemma, who stood next to Zeb and Leia.
“Well? What’s the edict from Greendeer?”
“It seems Dirty Poison wasn’t all that popular. We go back to the usual start time next week.”
“Good work, guys,” Jimmy said, as he started for his car. “I’m gonna drop by the station and check on Payce.”
“Why?” Lando asked. “Is there a problem I don’t know about?”
“Nah. It’s just that when my shift ended at seven this evening I was ready to get out of there. When I turned things over to Payce, Arlo had just about driven me nuts all day with his conspiracy theories. I figure he’s doing the same thing to Payce. Like telling him how space-traveling aliens are really reptiles and rule the world.”
“Does he really believe that stuff?” Leia asked. “Or is it more for shock value?”
Jimmy shook his head. “Who knows? But I’ll be glad when he sees a judge and makes bail.”
“What about his idea that the government implanted a tracking device in his head?” Dale offered. “Arlo gets going and he won’t shut up. That Kirby kid from Kansas is about to go through those bars and wring his neck. Doss is sick of listening to Arlo’s mouth run night and day.”
“Missouri,” Gemma corrected. “Kirby is from Missouri.”
“Whatever,” Dale said. “Kirby thought California was weird and that was before he had to sit locked up next to Arlo.”
Zeb turned to leave with Leia but stopped. “You still want to try and find what Arlo Stokely buried that day?”
Lando curled his fingers into Gemma’s. “Yeah. You drive.”
“I will if you can assure me you’ll be up that early,” Zeb stated. “I’m not convinced.”
“Then give me a wake-up call around seven. How’s that?”
“Love to,” Zeb chided. “My guess is you’ll hit the snooze and go right back to sleep.”
8
First light came much too early to suit Gemma. Standing at the coffee pot dressed in her robe, she waited for it to brew its magic potion.
Lando came in wearing jeans and a T-shirt, ready to go out the door as soon as Zeb got there to pick him up.
“It’s taking way too long,” Lando grunted, only half awake. “Zeb’ll be here any minute. He’s just waiting for a reason to give me a hard time.”
“You can take a little razzing.” She took his chin in her hand. “I’ve thought about the ring I want, sterling silver with a faceted rose quartz setting. Rose quartz stands for true love. I don’t know why I didn’t think about it right off. I have the whole thing already sketched out to take to the jeweler.”
“I thought you wanted to create it yourself.”
“I did, but what I want is way above my skillset. I don’t want to hunt down the right rock, only to have it fall out of the setting and lose it forever.”
“How about tomorrow we go down to the jeweler?”
She touched her lips to his. “I’m available during lunch. Remember we’re due at Paloma’s house at four this afternoon.”
“I thought you guys called that off.”
“No, she could have, but I think she’s using this as an op
portunity to get her grandchildren together and get Van and me to forge a deeper bond. I wouldn’t mind getting to know Nova better, either.”
“Paloma is sneaky like that.”
The timer dinged on the coffeemaker. “She’s not just sneaky, she’s determined. Van and I got off to a rough start, but I think we could at the very least be friends.”
“After almost thirty years of not having any contact, don’t get your hopes up that you’ll become close.”
“I guess I don’t have any expectations at all. Paloma does, though.”
Outside a car horn honked.
“That’s Zeb. I’ll see you this afternoon.”
“What about breakfast?”
He snatched a box of Pop Tarts out of the pantry. “This’ll do fine.”
Rufus woofed and blocked his way out of the kitchen.
“I think he wants to go with you,” Gemma noted, sipping her coffee. Amused, she added, “Talk about bonding…”
“Sure. Come on, boy. Let’s go for a Sunday morning adventure.”
“Text me if you guys find anything,” Gemma shouted as she watched him grab his gun and disappear out the front door with Rufus.
Left alone, she considered going back to bed and realized that now she was wide awake. She decided to head to the shop and make those same truffles Raynelle had complained about for tomorrow’s special. Better to get it done so it would get back to her. Maybe she’d send Mrs. Stokely a boxful of the new batch with a big, red bow attached.
“You have a mean streak, Gemma Channing,” she muttered to herself as she headed to the bedroom to get dressed. “I like it.”
After putting the dog in the back seat of Zeb’s cruiser, Lando settled himself into the front passenger seat.
“What’s with bringing Rufus along?” Zeb wanted to know.
“Who’s better at finding stuff than a dog?” Lando cracked. “Didn’t think I’d be ready, did ya?”
“I texted you four times, so no.” He glanced at the box of Pop Tarts Lando had wasted no time tearing into. “What are you ten? Do you know how much sugar is in that thing? Not to mention all the artificial flavorings.”
Lando tapped the box between bites. “Hey, six vitamins and minerals here. I like red velvet. Sue me. Do you know I have to order these things online by the case because the Food Mart here only carries brown sugar cinnamon and low-fat strawberry? Seriously. What kind of choice is that? I don’t know how many times I’ve asked Dinah and Dharma to stock red velvet and they blow me off every time.”
“I’m sure with running a grocery store and all, they have a lot more important stuff to worry about than whether you get your Pop Tart fix or not.”
“But I’m a loyal customer. They should care about that. If they don’t watch out, Two Sisters’ Food Mart will get snapped up by some big chain that Sam Wells wants to bring into town. Then they’ll find themselves out of business.”
“Here’s a thought, why don’t you get a petition going? Maybe if they saw there was a real demand, they’d change their ways in a heartbeat.”
“Okay, I see where this is going. What is it they refuse to carry that you want?”
“Santa Fe salsa. My whole family loves the stuff. It’s even the one thing that Leia puts on her eggs and raves about whenever she spends the night. I’ve taken Dinah aside and asked nicely to order it by the case. Same with Dharma. I’ve been after them for two years and still all they carry is that same old jar of tasteless crap.”
“Ah. So you see my point. You order it online, I bet.”
“Yep.”
“So if you sign my petition, I’ll sign yours.”
Zeb pulled his vehicle to the side of the road just before the turnoff to Spirit Lake. “This is where we saw Arlo digging the hole.”
Lando surveyed the tall weeds as he finished off his red velvet treat. “I forgot the shovels.”
“I figured as much. That’s why I brought my own.”
“How about a Weed Eater?”
“Got one of those, too. At home. You should’ve made a list.”
“Check out that mound of dirt over there to the left of that huge tree. Could that be where he dug?”
Zeb gauged the view from Fire Mountain and charted the angle in his head. “If memory serves, that works.”
Lando got out and opened the door for Rufus. The Labrador sniffed the ground before trotting off toward the spot in question.
They got out the shovels from the trunk and headed toward the place where Rufus pawed his way around in a circle.
The pile of dirt yielded nothing but a shallow grave of old dog bones. “Why would Arlo drive all the way out here to bury his pet dog?”
“Maybe it wasn’t his dog,” Lando stated. “Did you ever see Arlo with a pet of any kind?”
Zeb scratched a spot on his chin. “Didn’t Raynelle have one of those little teacup dogs once?”
“She did. But look at the size of that skull. These are bones from a much larger canine, like a German shepherd. Two years ago, weren’t Arlo and Felix Spivey at each other’s throats about Felix’s dog? What was the dog’s name? Some German word.”
“Gretel,” Zeb supplied. “I’m sure that was it.”
“Yeah. And Spivey’s Gretel was reported missing a few days after that big blow-up the two men had.”
“Neighbors who couldn’t get along. You think Arlo had something to do with Gretel going missing?”
“Only one way to find out. Keep digging and see if we can find the collar.”
Zeb sent him a look that bordered on revulsion. “I’m getting gloves. Want me to grab you a pair?”
“Good idea.”
With the latex covering their hands, they sifted through the dirt until they came across the collar with a fancy metal dog plate attached to it. Etched onto the tag was the name Gretel, an address on Turtle Shell Drive, and Felix’s phone number.
“Gretel is missing no more,” Lando muttered. He took out his phone, began snapping photos of the shallow grave.
“And what do you intend to do about it?”
“It shows Arlo’s character and the depth to which he’ll go to win an argument.”
Zeb stuck the shovel down in the terrain and leaned on the handle. “I’m just glad you dragged me out here to solve the crime of the century on a Sunday morning.”
“Hey, weren’t you ever the least bit curious about what Arlo buried?”
“True, I was, but I was hoping for a little more than poor Gretel’s bones.”
Lando wiped the sweat from his brow and caught a glimpse of Rufus, pawing at the ground again, this time near a drainage ditch. For some reason, the dog had started to whine. “What are you doing over there? What’s so interesting in that trench?”
Rufus had been the first to spot him. Or maybe it was a her. The little fluff of fur had originally been off-white, but the white was such a dirty, matted mess, the pooch’s coat had turned a disgusting brown. It was difficult to tell if there were multi-colors underneath all the muck because the dirt and mud were caked on and tangled up in the mass of fur.
Rufus yipped again to get Lando’s attention, continuing to stand guard over the pitiful little barely-alive dog.
“What is that thing?” Lando asked, bending down to get a better look. “It looks like a terrier maybe.”
“Yeah, well it looks like he doesn’t have the energy to move from the spot where someone obviously threw him out the window.”
“Yeah. His back leg’s bent, broken. We can’t just leave him here to die.”
Zeb huffed out a breath. “I’m not suggesting that, but I’ve been around horses enough to know when an animal is sick. That one is beyond sick. I’d say death is about three hours away.”
“Then we’ll get him some help.” Lando took the leash off Rufus and looped it around the little guy’s neck to keep him from darting off into the underbrush. But the dog didn’t seem to have the will to do much of anything but accept his fate. He took out his phone to t
ext Gemma and sent her a picture of the pathetic little ball of fur.
Rufus found a stray at the bottom of Fire Mountain and doesn’t want to leave him.
Aww. I’ll text the vet to see if she can get him in this afternoon.
After ten minutes, he got a reply.
It’s a go. We’re meeting Dr. Song at her office in twenty minutes.
“Who’s gonna pick that thing up?” Zeb asked, staring down at the frightened pooch. “Not me. Look how he’s shaking. I’m telling you, he’s in bad shape. He may not even make it into town.”
“Little guy knows his life is hanging by a thread. I need a blanket or something.”
“I might have a towel in the back of the squad car.”
“That’ll work.”
“He smells. And he has mange,” Zeb noted as he handed off the almost threadbare bit of cloth. “You’re gonna pay to have my car detailed after this.”
“It’s just a tiny dog. I thought you liked animals?”
“I do. I love them. But not when they may die in my cruiser.”
“Stop talking about dying,” Lando instructed as he got the little guy wrapped up. “Come on, Rufus. We’re trying a Hail Mary here to save your friend.”
Gemma was waiting for them when they pulled into the lot outside Cheyenne Song’s animal clinic. One look at the mutt cuddled in Lando’s arms confirmed he was in bad shape.
“How can anyone treat a dog like this?” Gemma asked, glancing at her own chocolate Lab, flapping his tail for attention.
“We don’t know yet if he was dumped there or he ran off,” Zeb pointed out.
“But his back leg is injured. It looks broken to me.”
Lando nodded. “I’d say he was tossed from a moving vehicle, landed in that ditch. Unable to move, the poor thing just stayed there, hungry and miserable.”
“Aww, you were giving up on life, weren’t you?” Gemma cooed as she reached to touch the dog’s ear. “I know he’s dirty, but he needs to feel the gentle touch of a human, to know we’re not all like the monster who left him out there to die.”
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