Washed Up (A Gracie Andersen Mystery Book 4)

by Laurinda Wallace

  Gracie and Marc mumbled apologies and relocated to the courtyard. The dogs appeared and flopped into the shade of some tall flowers that were unfamiliar to Gracie. The orange and pink-sherbet-colored spikes of tubular blooms were clustered at the edge of the walkway providing convenient shade for the dogs that panted heavily in the heat. Several tables for two placed throughout the courtyard allowed easy viewing of the feeders. Bright-colored hummers darted between the feeders, buzzing their displeasure at any interlopers who hogged their nectar. Blue salvias and red yucca with jagged, knife-sharp leaves enticed the little nectar sippers, leading to combative territorial disputes. Even with the shade, the air was sizzling. A dry heat was still hot, Gracie decided.

  “I feel kind of weird staying here after this has happened,” Gracie began.

  “Amanda will regroup. She’s got other guests besides you to take care of,” Marc quickly replied. “Lupita is right here to help out too.”

  “I know. It’s just that it was gruesome. The body, that is.” Gracie shuddered and leaned forward, elbows on the table. “The man was beaten or maybe fell a ways.”

  “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  “Me too. But something the agents saw sure made them believe his death is suspicious.”

  “How about a distraction to take your mind off this morning’s event?”

  “Are you finally off duty? If you are, I’d like to explore Bisbee.”

  “Sure. Bisbee is always interesting. Let’s get some lunch there. I know a great little place in Old Bisbee I think you’ll like.”

  ***

  Gracie was instantly enamored with the old mining town precariously constructed into the side of rugged, reddish-colored mountains. Narrow streets, long stairways that led to tiny, colorful houses high above the section called Old Bisbee made her feel like she’d stepped back in time. Her nighttime reading of a couple of historical booklets in her casita had already filled her in on the copper mining, which boomed at the turn of the 20th century. Bisbee was the county seat, usurping Tombstone’s role in 1929. Refusing to turn the lights out when the copper mines closed in 1975, Bisbee became a tourist destination with restaurants, galleries, and antique shops filling storefronts along the main street.

  The smell of roasting coffee from Peddler’s Alley drew Marc and Gracie in for a perfectly brewed cup of Ethiopian java before they walked toward the regal Copper Queen Hotel overlooking the downtown area. Marc promised her an authentic Mexican lunch at Santiago’s situated below the hotel on Brewery Gulch. A clap of thunder turned their gaze to the imminent storm pushing over the Mule Mountains into town. Marc grabbed Gracie’s hand and they dashed down the busy sidewalks, dodging shoppers also headed for shelter from the large raindrops. It began to pour the minute they charged through the doors of the restaurant. Fortunately, they’d escaped the deluge. Within minutes, the monsoon rain flooded the streets, while they munched on homemade salsa and tortilla chips. As suddenly as the rain had gushed from the skies, it stopped.

  Gracie took a second bite of a luscious chimichanga when Marc received a text. His presence was immediately required in Sierra Vista, which was 30 minutes away. He and Max, his German shepherd, were needed to find a missing teenager. Disappointment and a simmering anger threatened to become verbalized. Gracie intentionally took another quick bite of the crispy tortilla filled with well-seasoned beef and beans to prohibit the utterance of a regrettable comment. The list of reasons why she should have stayed in Deer Creek grew again. She’d barely seen Marc since her arrival. He was completely immersed in investigating an important drug case. Apparently, they couldn’t enjoy a meal together, even though he was officially off duty. So much for an intimate lunch.

  CHAPTER 2

  Max and Marc joined the search-and-rescue team that was ready to tackle Ash Canyon. The rain had stopped in the mountains, and the smell of damp earth permeated the air. Max whined and pulled against the thick leather leash.

  “Settle down, Max,” Marc commanded. “We’ll be going in a minute.”

  Sergeant Craig Ames, lanky with wheat-colored hair, slung a camo pack over his shoulder. “Hey, Marc. Nice dog. Does he have a lot of experience in the field?”

  “No, Sergeant. This is only his second time out for this. We’re getting ready for training in El Paso. Just waiting for the paperwork.”

  “Good. Well, we need all hands on deck today. Got a 17-year-old possible runaway that’s involved in drugs. A friend of his was pulled out of the canyon a little while ago. He wasn’t in real good shape, and we airlifted him to Tucson. Broken arm and a back injury. Kid was a little shocky. He told us that this Ricky Fuentes had taken off and left him. No answer on Fuentes’s cell phone. It’s either off or the battery died. He may have stolen the Explorer over there.” The deputy pointed toward a parking lot on the opposite side of the road. A maroon-colored SUV sat on the far side of the parking area. “They’re trying to get a hold of the owners to see if they’re hiking up here or missing a vehicle.”

  “Any idea where Fuentes was headed?” Marc asked. He checked the top on his canteen before clipping it to his belt.

  “Not sure, but they got into a disagreement for some reason. Could be a drug deal gone bad. This Fuentes kid has some history with cocaine. We can’t even be sure he’s still up here. He could’ve gotten a ride pretty easily.” The sergeant sighed, shaking his head. “I won’t ever understand this crazy drug stuff.”

  “Me neither. What about the kid’s parents?”

  “No go. Fuentes was taken from his biological parents a few months ago. We think the SUV actually belongs to his foster parents. Miguel, the kid we found—his parents called in a missing person report this morning. Never came home from school yesterday. They were out looking for him all night. He’s never been in trouble, but when we heard he was with the Fuentes kid … well, that wasn’t a good sign. Miguel managed to call his parents for help a couple of hours ago, and we were lucky to find him.” The man twisted around to check on the team’s progress. “Everybody ready to move out?”

  ***

  Gracie perched on a stool in the ranch’s kitchen, sipping an iced coffee. Amanda finished unloading the dishwasher and leaned against the counter.

  “So, you and Marc are serious?”

  Gracie chuckled glumly. Amanda certainly didn’t beat around the bush.

  “Supposedly. This trip was really his idea, but so far, he’s been pretty tied up with his temporary job here. I guess that’s law enforcement though.”

  “Or the military. My husband and I have been apart more than we’ve been together for 30 years. He’s retiring at the end of September. Frankly, I’m not sure about us actually living together—all the time, that is.”

  “You’ll figure it out.”

  “I’m not sure I’d put money on it myself. This ranch was my idea, and Cal’s not real keen on running a business like this in retirement. I think he’d rather be on a beach in Belize or Panama.”

  “He’s not a fan of the West?”

  “Cal likes it well enough.” Amanda paused. “Let’s say we’ve got some things to work out when he comes home for good.”

  “Sounds like where Marc and I are at. I thought our relationship was over when he took this little six-month transfer to Arizona. However, the separation actually was a good thing. If we ever have some solid time together, we might figure out our relationship, and where it’s headed. His job is more time-consuming than I understood, and that scares me.”

  “Marc says a lot of good things about you. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Amanda watched two couples leave the parking area and head for the path that led to the guest casitas. She turned back to Gracie.

  “You’re an independent businesswoman. You make decisions every day. You’re in charge of your own destiny.”

  Gracie’s brow wrinkled, trying to decipher Amanda’s drift. It seemed the woman was talking more about herself than Gracie.

  “Right. But I have a partner and a lot of responsibilit
ies too.”

  Her phone chirped with a text notification. She hoped it was Marc telling her the search-and-rescue team had found the missing boy so they could do some more sightseeing. Glancing at the phone display, she saw Jim Taylor’s name, her business partner. She needed to call the kennel. Excusing herself, she found a comfortable seat in the reading room off the foyer.

  “Hey, Chief,” was Jim’s warm greeting.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Sorry to bother you again, but we’ve got a situation here.”

  “What kind of situation?”

  “It’s the reservation software. It crashed.”

  “What? You’re kidding! What happened?”

  “Cheryl can’t get it to work at all. The system went down last night right before closing. I told her to shut down the computer and try again this morning. She’s been working on it all day.”

  “Is she there? I can try to walk her through a restart.”

  “Uh … no. It’s past closing time now.”

  Gracie looked at her watch. She kept forgetting about the three-hour time difference. It was already six in Deer Creek. Why hadn’t he called her earlier?

  “I can try to walk you through it then. You should’ve called me sooner.”

  “I did. You didn’t answer.” Jim’s voice had a distinct edge to it.

  She hadn’t checked her phone since the discovery of the body that morning. In fact, she now remembered turning it off when the park ranger had taken her initial statement.

  “Sorry. I turned off my phone earlier. Well, we need to get this fixed. There’s a folder with the company’s contact info in my bottom drawer. They should be able to help.”

  “Already called them. Apparently, the company is being bought out. Customer service isn’t that helpful right now.”

  Gracie made a fist and pounded her forehead. This was not a problem to have in the middle of summer vacations. Milky Way Kennels was booked almost completely through August. The software took care of all the scheduling of reservations and grooming appointments for the business.

  All right,” she groaned, closing her eyes.

  The problem had happened once before. Maybe she could remember the process that customer service had given her over a year ago. “Are you near the computer?”

  ***

  Amanda looked up to see her chef and assistant manager, Lupita Alvarez, enter through the side door to the large kitchen. She lugged a box of fresh produce, which she dumped into the sink. Gracie’s voice rose in volume, making it impossible for the two women to ignore. Lupita placed large poblano peppers and sweet onions on a cutting board.

  “Miss Gracie seems pretty upset.” Lupita wiped her hands on a small towel.

  “The joys of running your own business,” Amanda replied, reaching into the refrigerator for a can of Sprite.

  “Like those two staying in casita nueve?” Lupita sliced into an onion with large chef’s knife.

  Amanda frowned. “Exactly. Have they been around today?”

  “No. They asked for an early breakfast, remember?”

  “Now I do. They must have gone back to explore Coronado again today. I saw their Jeep at the trailhead parking lot.”

  “They said they were going back up there.” Lupita snapped the lids shut on the plastic containers of chopped vegetables. “The blond one. Alex had an old map he was studying with Justin.” Her Spanish accent softened the “J.”

  Amanda huffed. “Those idiots won’t find any treasure up there. They’re trying to score a TV reality show. They might as well try to find the Lost Dutchman’s Mine as Coronado’s treasure.”

  Lupita laughed. “They seem pretty sure of themselves.”

  “Of course, they are. They’re young and full of testosterone-fueled egos. Ida didn’t find any more tequila bottles lying outside their casita, did she?”

  “No. But there was a certain weedy smell in the casita when she cleaned today.”

  “Excellent! I’ll probably have more complaints about them. When do they leave?”

  “I don’t remember.” Lupita took off her apron, hanging it on a wall hook on the back of the walk-in pantry door.

  Amanda pulled the reservation book from a desk drawer. “Ah … yes.” She ran her finger down the appropriate page. “Saturday morning, is it? Good! I have a family coming that afternoon that will need the casita because of the two bedrooms. Adios to our treasure hunters then.”

  Gracie’s sudden presence in the kitchen interrupted Amanda’s next comment.

  “Everything all right?” Amanda asked her.

  “Keeping my fingers crossed. A software issue, but it’s working for the time being.” Gracie rubbed the back of her neck. “This was supposed to be a vacation, but I feel like I’ve spent more time on the phone fixing problems at the kennel than relaxing. Of course, Marc hasn’t been around that much either. It’s been mostly frustrating.”

  “Don’t worry, Miss Gracie,” Lupita soothed. “Let me get you something to eat.”

  “No thanks, Lupita. Marc just texted me. With any luck, he’ll be here to pick me up in an hour. We’re going to Pizzeria Mimosa for dinner tonight.”

  “Bueno! You wait. Everything will be okay,” Lupita assured her. “I have to go. I’ll be here at 6:30 tomorrow, Señora.”

  “Thanks for staying later, Lupita,” Amanda said. “You were a lifesaver today.”

  Lupita waved and slipped out through the courtyard.

  “So, he’s finished with the search and rescue?” Amanda tossed the soda can in the garbage.

  “He and Max are done for the day. Max cut a pad pretty deeply. Marc had to actually carry him for about a mile.”

  “Whoa! He’s a big dog. I hope he’ll be all right—Max, that is.”

  “I think so. Marc was able to find a vet to stitch him up.”

  “Did they find whoever was lost?”

  “One was found and taken to Tucson. The other boy is still missing.”

  “Any names? Are they local?”

  “Marc didn’t tell me the name of the teenager they found, but the one still missing is Ricky Fuentes.”

  Amanda’s face blanched, and she swallowed hard.

  “What’s the matter?” Gracie asked.

  “You’re sure it’s Ricky Fuentes?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “He’s Manny’s foster kid.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Gracie settled herself in the courtyard to watch black-chinned and rufous hummingbirds dive-bomb each other, while Marc made a series of phone calls about the missing teenager’s connection to the late Manny. Plenty of officers appeared to be working on the case at this point. Marc’s inability to stand down and relax was becoming more than a little aggravating. Marc flashed a smile at Gracie when a copper and green colored rufous buzzed past his head.

  “Those little things are aggressive,” he commented, laying the phone on the table.

  “Did they find that kid?” Gracie asked.

  “No sign of him yet. If he’s hurt, it won’t be good to be out on the mountain all night.”

  Gracie shivered, thinking of the wildlife that might be interested in an injured teen. “Let’s hope they find him before dark.”

  “Yeah,” Marc responded absently. His eyes were not on her but directed at the splashing fountain. “There’s an all-out manhunt for him now. He probably stole the victim’s vehicle. Those boys may be involved with his death.”

  “That’s terrible. Too bad no one heard anything along the trail this morning. We didn’t see or hear anything out of the ordinary when we were hiking. Neither did anybody else. At least that’s what they said.”

  Her stomach growled, reminding her that Italian cuisine had been promised. She wondered if he was ever going to suggest that they get some dinner.

  As if on cue, Marc turned back to her, with blue eyes twinkling and a smile that made her feel like a melting frozen custard in a waffle cone. “Are you ready to go eat?”

  “Absolutely,�
�� she replied. “Lead the way.”

  ***

  They found seats on the back patio of the restaurant that afforded unobstructed views of the mountains. Mesmerized by the pinks and oranges that streaked the western sky, she missed the server’s question the first time.

  “Gracie? Do you want something other than water to drink?” Marc asked.

  “Oh. Sorry. I’ll try an Italian soda—raspberry.” She focused her attention on the menu and placed her order.

  Marc leaned forward and took the menu from her, handing it to the harried, curly-haired waiter.

  “Gracie, I want to apologize for how your vacation has gone. The drug case that I’ve been working on is suddenly hot and heavy. I talked with the lieutenant today. It’s going to be tough to do everything I want to do while you’re here. I’m really sorry. Every chance I can, I’ll break away. We’ll squeeze in some fun, I promise.”

  Gracie looked into his earnest and enticing eyes, feeling like things might be taking a turn for the better. She knew he was really trying to make everything work.

  “That’s great. I was beginning to think that my timing was horrible.”

  “No. Crime has bad timing. The drug cartels are a challenge. It’s a complex case that we finally got a break on this week. The missing kids appear to be part of the case. However, the DEA gave us some extra manpower today, so I’m officially at your disposal tonight. No calls and hurried lunches like today.” He settled back against the chair. “So, what do you think of Arizona?”

  “It’s beautiful, but way different from Deer Creek. The mountains are unbelievable.” She looked back toward the highest mountain in the range. The sun had almost disappeared, shadows filling the canyons to the foothills. The air was definitely cooler and she took a deep breath, enjoying the lingering scent of rain.

  Marc smiled, resting his arm on the table. “I feel the same about the mountains. Max and I have worked in several different areas in the county. Each one has its own beauty. But the woman across the table from me is the real beauty.”