With her hand on the dog, a series of sharp pictures entered Gemma’s brain. She felt chaos and violence. The dog had already witnessed someone’s demise. Of that, she was certain. Before she could act on anything else, Cheyenne opened the back door to let them inside.
“What do we have here? Oh, my. This is bad. Bring him on in and I’ll see what’s what. But I won’t make any promises. This stray is malnourished and eaten up with fleas and probably parasites. I’ll have to shave off his fur just to be able to examine him.”
“Do whatever you can,” Gemma said with a sigh. “He’s been through a lot. We’re grateful you’re doing this on a Sunday.”
“No problem, but I’m putting him in isolation until I know if he has parvo. I’ll call in my tech assistant to help me out.”
Zeb took the opportunity to pull Lando aside. “I’m heading out to have lunch with Leia. What do you intend to do about the bones we found? There’s no way to prove Arlo killed Felix’s dog.”
“Maybe there is. Dr. Song was probably Gretel’s vet.”
“So?”
“What are you guys whispering about?” Gemma wanted to know.
While Zeb made his escape away from the clinic, Lando filled her in on the morning’s activities.
“You weren’t here two years ago when Arlo and Felix Spivey had a running feud going. Even though they lived next door to each other, neither one could stand the sight of the other. It was the talk of Turtle Shell Drive.”
“That’s sad.”
“Sad but reality. Felix had this huge German shepherd that Arlo said barked all the time and dug up his mother’s flower garden. Arlo must’ve called us over there at least thirty times because of his dislike for Felix and Gretel.”
“You think Arlo poisoned Gretel to get rid of the problem?”
“It’s something to consider.”
“So Zeb and Leia saw Arlo burying a dog that day?”
“It was the same spot. They never actually saw the dog though, just Arlo digging the hole.”
“Ah. That could be a problem.”
“It could. What did you see when you touched the little dog back there?”
“Violence. That dog saw someone die.”
The cop in him wanted to know more. “How?”
“Beaten to death, multiple blows to the head.”
“Male or female?”
“Female.”
“That’s disturbing.”
“And then some, especially when it’s an elderly female.”
An hour went by before Corkie Davenport appeared in the waiting room with news. “Believe it or not, his name is Rolo and he was microchipped down in Arcata.”
Dr. Song followed Corkie into the room, taking a seat in one of the chairs. “His owner’s name is Ruth Coffey.” She rattled off the address of Rolo’s veterinarian. “I’ll contact him tomorrow. In the meantime, Rolo tested negative for parvo and worms. It’s a miracle really, but something is very odd about him. I think that dog was babied and well cared for up to a point, certainly before this incident, before getting dumped on the side of the road. Someone must be missing their beloved Westie. I’d say he’s been out there for at least a week, maybe longer.”
Gemma couldn’t believe it. “That does seem strange that he’s so far away from home.”
“Arcata is two hours from here,” Lando continued. “How did he get off the 101 and into that ditch?”
“All good questions,” Cheyenne said. “He weighed in at barely four pounds. Once Corkie got all the fur off, I could tell the flea bites and mange were infected. So he’s been out there long enough for that to develop and worsen. Antibiotics should clear it up. I put him on intravenous fluids and set his broken back leg. But let’s face it, at this stage, he may always walk with a limp. Other than that, he’s in pretty good shape. I’ll keep him overnight to make sure he doesn’t have a reaction to the meds. On Monday, I’ll contact the vet in Arcata and then let him get hold of Rolo’s owner.”
“Seems like you have it handled. I guess we’ll head out. We have somewhere to be in about an hour. Let us know if we can do anything else.”
“I will. Thanks for caring enough to bring him in like this.”
“Leaving him out there was never an option,” Lando explained. “Since we’re here, I’d like to ask you something. Were you Felix Spivey’s vet for that German shepherd he owned a few years back?”
“Gretel? Definitely. Felix was heartbroken when Gretel went missing.”
“Zeb and I are certain we found her remains this morning. Large bones from a large dog buried on the side of the road below Fire Mountain.”
“The one that goes to the lake? That’s interesting. But it could be any large dog who lost his human in that area. Hikers bring their dogs with them and sometimes the dogs figure out a way to get lost in those woods.”
“Could you tell if a dog had been poisoned?”
“Poisoned? Probably. Though it would depend a lot on the poison. If it’s arsenic, arsenic is one of those heavy metals that hang around in your system, even in the bones. Was there any fur left at all?”
“Some, but not much. If I bring you a sample, could you send it off to whatever lab you use for analysis?”
“Absolutely. Is this an official investigation?”
Lando nodded. “I’m afraid it is.” He glanced over at Corkie. “That’s why I need discretion here, what I just talked about doesn’t leave this room.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Corkie said. “I love my job too much to risk losing it with loose lips.”
After they got outside, Gemma tugged his sleeve. “Sometimes I forget that you’re a very good detective.”
“Thanks. So that thing at Paloma’s is still on, huh?”
She looped her arm through his. “Yes, so stop trying to get out of it.”
“Me? I’m not. But I need to go back to that spot and retrieve what I need for a sample. I’m thinking of driving the pickup out there to bring Gretel back…you know…for Felix. He might want to give her a proper burial.”
“But how will you explain finding Gretel on the side of the road to him?”
“That’s the tricky part, I’m not sure yet. Why don’t you head on over to Paloma’s and I’ll meet you there later? I’ll need to grab a shower anyway. I can’t show up smelling like I’ve just dug up a grave.”
“Okay, just don’t blow the whole thing off.”
“Would I do that? I like Paloma.”
“All right. I’ll see you in about an hour.”
She kissed him goodbye and felt that dread in the pit of her stomach that she was showing up there alone.
9
Gemma dreaded going because try as she might, things between her and Van were still awkward despite her best efforts to get him to like her. The half siblings were still trying to figure out the next step in trusting each other to become the slightest bit closer. But so far, it hadn’t happened.
Gemma rang the bell at the Mediterranean-style house on Dolphin Way and stood there with the bag of chocolate she’d brought, realizing she was nervous.
It was Nova who answered the door. “Hey there, Gemma. Come on in. Where’s Lando?”
“He had to take care of some police business.”
“I’ll say one thing for Lando Bonner,” Paloma began from her seat on the sofa. “He doesn’t care much about the ramifications of locking up a politician.”
“More like a certified mental case,” Van muttered. “Arlo thinks NASA found life on other planets but just won’t level with the rest of us about it.”
Gemma smiled at her brother. He looked so much like the pictures she’d seen of their father, all dark hair, soft brown eyes. “Lando does care about what will surely be repercussions from Arlo, but Daryl pressed charges. Not much he could do about that except arrest him.”
Nova glanced at her kids, busy coloring on the coffee table in front of Paloma. She pivoted toward Gemma. “Want something to drink? Mr. Ballard dropped o
ff a case of Paloma’s favorite chardonnay. Or is it Chablis?”
“It’s more like a Gouais blanc,” Paloma answered. “This is Vince’s first attempt at bringing it back from the dead with a similar vine he’s been cultivating for the past five years. Much smoother than I would’ve thought. Take a taste, Gemma. See for yourself.”
“That sounds interesting. I’d love a glass.” She followed Nova into the kitchen. “Did Paloma tell you we wanted to draft you into running against Arlo Stokely for mayor?”
Nova slowly turned around from the counter. “Are you guys nuts? I’ve got two kids and a part-time job I adore. There’s no way I’m giving that up to run for stupid mayor.”
Gemma cackled with laughter. “I assure you Paloma put a better spin on it than that.”
Nova handed off a glass with the Chablis. “There’s no way I’d do it. I’ve been taking real estate courses and finally passed the exam two weeks ago. I’ve worked too hard to simply give it up.” She clucked her tongue. “Mayor? What were you guys thinking?”
“We were desperate. Oh. Sorry. That sounded…it came out…wrong.”
“It’s okay. You’d have to be desperate to want me. Not only do I have no political experience whatsoever, I have no interest in politics. None. I mean, I vote, but that’s about it.”
“But Arlo could be the mayor. Or Sam Wells. He wants to tear up the park on the cliff to build apartments. Our choices are pitiful.”
“We do need more affordable housing.”
“Are you kidding? Is that what he’s telling everyone now? Because these would be luxury resort-type condos, renting for twice what they’re worth. Those units won’t have anything to do with affordable housing.”
“That’s what Wells said yesterday. I heard his commercial on the radio,” Nova stated in dismay. “You mean he’s lying?”
Gemma took a slug of her wine. “What’s the old saying? If his lips are moving… so yeah.”
“That’s why Paloma’s been so vocal lately about this race. She doesn’t like either candidate,” Van added from the doorway.
“Did you know she suggested Nova get in the race?”
Van went over to his wife, draped an arm around her shoulder. “This one doesn’t have the tact for it. She’d tell off a member of the city council in a heartbeat. I suppose I’d better start the burgers. The kids are getting hungry. I told Grandma I’d play cook today. How does Lando like his burger, or should I wait until he gets here?”
“No, go ahead. Feed the kids. Let me text him and see how much longer he’ll be.” She stepped outside on the patio to do that and spotted Lando and Rufus heading around the corner of the house. “Finished already?”
“Yeah. Dropped the sample by Cheyenne’s office before I went home to shower. I hope you don’t mind that I brought Rufus. He’s been really wound up since finding that Westie.”
“I don’t mind. But he should probably romp out here in the backyard and not the house.”
“Fine by me. I don’t mind sitting out here. I’m starving. What’s to eat?”
“You’re just in time for burgers, Chief,” Van said as he stepped outside to fire up the grill. “How many can you eat?”
“I could scarf down two, cooked medium. Thanks. I sorta skipped breakfast.”
“Hey, Lando,” Nova said, appearing with a platter of already-formed patties. “You should never skip breakfast.”
“I know. Need help with anything?”
“Nope. Van and I have it covered. Are you and Gemma ready for your big day?”
“Getting there,” Lando said, plopping down in one of the lawn chairs as a tired Rufus curled up at his feet.
“Look at that,” Gemma began. “You wore him out. Rufus is usually so high energy that’s difficult to do. Want me to set the table?”
Flipping burgers, Van turned to stare at his sister. “I brought this photo album Grandma gave me several years back. After we eat, I thought you might like to go through it. There are lots of photos of my…our dad.”
“Thanks. I’d like that.”
As if embarrassed at the offer, Van changed the subject. “You might want to go in and prod Grandma to come outside. Burgers are almost ready.”
Still awkward, Gemma thought as she went in to roust Paloma and coax her outside.
“How are things going?” Paloma asked.
“Fine. Van says to get yourself to the table.”
“Still ordering people around, I see. Did you find a dress yesterday?”
“Not just a dress, the dress. Leia found one, too.”
“Good, I want to buy it for you.”
“No way. I can’t let you spend that kind of money. I sorta got carried away. Don’t tell Lando.”
“How much did you spend?”
Gemma rolled out the amount, expecting her to faint. “That’s including the bridesmaids’ dresses.”
“That sounds reasonable. I want to do this.”
“Paloma, no. Really. It’s too much.”
“Let an old lady do something nice. You’re my only granddaughter. I’m not going to live long enough to see Allie, my great-granddaughter, walk down the aisle. Same is true with her little brother, Daniel. The least I can do is pay for my granddaughter’s wedding dress. Say thank you.”
“Thank you,” Gemma uttered, wrapping her arms around the woman’s shoulders before helping her out to the picnic table.
“These look delicious, Van. I think you’ve outdone yourself,” Paloma proclaimed.
Van lapped up the praise like a puppy. “Thanks, Grandma. Fixed medium well just the way you like it.”
“It’s gonna rain before nightfall,” Paloma announced, dropping down on the bench.
Four-year-old Daniel scratched his nose and sidled up to Paloma’s lap. “How do you know?”
“My knees are killing me. Always a sure sign a downpour’s coming.” She shifted in her seat toward Gemma. “Did Van tell you about the album?”
“He did. I can’t wait to look at it.”
“Good. Because there’s a box of photographs Katie and Van dug out of the attic and set aside for you. They also grabbed some old movie camera shorts that you can watch. This afternoon if you have the time. We could watch them as a family.”
Gemma squeezed Paloma’s fingers. “I’d love that.”
After the burgers, they settled back in the living room while Van set up the projector. The box of home movies was dusty but provided glimpses of Michael Coyote that Gemma had never seen before. To see her father in action, to see him laugh with friends and joke around, mugging for the camera, gave her heart a joy she hadn’t known. In one video he stood next to his beloved Camaro, wrapped up in the arms of a leggy brunette.
“That’s my mother,” Van explained. “In case anybody was wondering.”
In another, Michael worked on a red VW bus, grease on his hands, while a string of lovely young girls in bikinis leaned up against it. There were male companions about his own age who came and went throughout the movie, laughing, talking, clowning around with ease.
The camera panned to another scene where Michael the surfer hit the waves to cheers in the foreground. Later, he emerged from the water to a waiting crowd of supporters, mostly female. Gemma caught sight of a familiar face in the crowd. Her mother, Genevieve Sarrazin, was caught waving to get his attention, jumping up and down on the beach. Michael walked into her outstretched arms.
A little embarrassed by the display of affection, Gemma was grateful when the action moved on to other clips. This time it showed him as a father, holding Van or Silby in his arms, times he danced with his wife, Katie, times when he sat on the floor unwrapping Christmas presents, up to his elbows in wrapping paper. There were snips with his family taken on vacations where they’d piled into the VW bus and toured some national park or interesting landmark.
“Maybe now you can see why Michael loved that van so much he named his son Van,” Paloma stated with a chuckle. “They spent a lot of time in it.”
Paloma got misty-eyed. “He loved classic automobiles, anything that would get him back and forth to the beach, the canyons, the falls, or the lake. Michael flat out loved the outdoors. He enjoyed working on any kind of engine, appreciated any kind of old car, kind of like you and Lando.”
Van turned in his seat. “Where’d you get that 1951 classic Chevy truck you drive? And with the rare window design?”
“It belonged to my dad and his dad before him. Luke keeps pestering me to sell it to him. But I only let him drive it on special occasions.”
“Like what?”
“Christmas, Easter, and sometimes Labor Day if we have a parade.”
“Luke is your brother, right? How is it you got the truck and he didn’t?”
“Back then, he turned up his nose at it. Couldn’t wait to buy something fancy and new. Plus, I’m the one who dragged it out of my dad’s old garage and fixed it up enough so it would run.”
“You really like tinkering with old engines?”
“I guess I do. Before Gemma came along it’s how I spent my spare time. I’d collect them if I had the money. Now, they’re mostly out of my price range.”
“Would you be interested in helping me fix up Dad’s old van?”
“That one we just saw on screen? The 1969? You bet I would. Where is it now?”
Paloma’s lips curved from her spot on the sofa. “The Coyotes once owned quite a spread out near Duff Northcutt’s house. Over the last century, my grandmother began selling off bits and pieces of it. But I still own fifty acres of the original land. There’s an old barn out there. The building’s so delipidated that a fierce wind could blow it down or maybe a relatively mild earthquake. It’s where Michael kept his old cars. He liked to tinker in that old barn. That’s where he fixed up the Camaro.”
“Would you like to see it, Gemma?” Van offered. “If Grandma will look after the kids, Nova and I will take you guys out there.”
Spirit Lake Page 9