CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Charlie Whitehorse cursed as he swerved into the bumpy driveway, narrowly missing the roadside stand that sat at the front of his property. As much as he wouldn’t mind running the booth down, it was still his best hope for getting out of trouble. As long as he could stay a few steps ahead of Hector, he’d be fine.
He parked his truck alongside the small trailer at the end of the driveway, stepping out and slamming the door. What was he going to do now? He’d handed over almost every dollar he could get his hands on to Hector’s henchman. But he owed much more. And the extra five hundred he hadn’t turned over in the parking garage – lost at the casino.
He kicked a truck tire and let a few more expletives fly. He’d been so sure this was his lucky night. He’d followed all the patterns that helped him win other times, respected each superstition, engaged in every practiced habit. None of it had helped, not this time. Not the last ten times, for that matter.
The trailer was dark when he stepped inside, but lit up with a quick flip of a switch. It was one advantage to a nine by twelve foot space. It didn’t take much to light it up. He dropped the truck keys on a cracked counter and picked up a single key on a chain at the same time. Throwing the door open, he headed outside again and continued down the driveway until he reached a metal storage shed that was at least five times the size of his trailer. Now, that would be a more reasonable living space, he’d often thought. But the trailer would never hold as much as the storage shed, so he couldn’t switch. In any case, it wasn’t his choice. Everything was up to Hector, which made it all the more maddening.
Sure, he’d had problems with gambling in the past, not to mention being under Hector’s blackmailing thumb for longer than he could remember. But his whole life had been turned upside down when the trading post and storage shed came into play. Until then, he’d enjoyed the small trailer and empty lot of land that he’d bought when he was younger. It was the one place he could be alone when he wanted to. He didn’t bother anyone and no one bothered him. But once the roadside stand and storage shed were built, his peaceful retreat went down the drain.
He fumbled with the padlock, dropping the key in the dirt twice. He patted the ground with both hands in order to find it each time. After the third time, he got it unlocked. He removed the padlock, stuck the key in his pocket and rolled the sliding metal door aside just enough to step into the unit. He picked up the flashlight he kept just inside and turned it on, moving the beam around the room.
As he’d expected, a new stack of boxes sat not far from the door. The delivery had come in. At least that was good news. The turnaround time was improving and so were his chances of getting out of trouble; at least he could hope so. For now, it was just a matter of damage control. That and trying to stay alive. Who knew how many goons Hector had and what they were capable of? That little roughing up at the casino was nothing.
Whitehorse ran the flashlight’s beam across the interior of the storage unit, detesting the careful stacks of boxes. A worktable held trays of goods and packaging supplies. Two wooden stools sat alongside the table. It wasn’t much, but the shabby building filled its purpose. Or Hector’s purpose, more accurately.
He never should have let Hector get more control of him. The gambling loans had been bad enough. But when faced with what sounded like a way out, he fell for it. He should have known it sounded too good to be true: a short-term business deal and a clean slate when it was all over. His debts would be paid off and the threats he’d lived with for decades would stop. What a fool he’d been. Now not only was he still in debt, he was stuck in the middle of someone else’s illegal business dealings. In addition, he was deceiving Miguel, who was a good guy. When it came right down to it, he was deceiving everyone around him. The only one he wasn’t deceiving was himself, but there was nothing he could do about it. He was in way too deep.
Closing the door to the storage building, he padlocked it and returned to the trailer. Hector’s workers would be there in the morning. He’d be back in Tres Palomas, where Hector left him alone, aside from a threatening or demanding phone call now and then. That was the one part of their bargain that Hector had always honored. And for a few days he could pretend the whole mess didn’t even exist.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Paige brushed her hair back off her face and wrapped an elastic band around it, tightening it into a high ponytail. It wasn’t her usual hairstyle, but Agua Encantada had adjusted her mood. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was different, but felt it, nonetheless. She was calmer, yet more energized, relaxed, yet more curious about her surroundings. It was as if she were growing inward and outward at the same time, something her editor would tell her was far too poetic for a reporter.
The magic of the area had bewitched her, setting off that vacation phenomenon that causes a person to dress differently, even speak differently at times. Could someone take on a persona of a geographic area? That was what this felt like. She was no longer a New York City girl, but a chameleon with a southwestern flair.
Twisting her head from side to side, she contemplated the simple silver hoop earrings that she was wearing. As pleasant as they appeared in the mirror, they were too drab for her newly discovered spirit. Even her new earrings with the three doves were tame for her mood. She’d have to return to Luz’s store, where she could pick up another pair of earrings, one of Ana’s more exotic designs. Something with coral and malachite, maybe, something that dangled – that would be good. She could buy a peasant blouse with ruffled sleeves at the same time, maybe a style that could sit just off her shoulders. Thinking of this newly manufactured image of herself, she smiled, grabbed a sweater and headed to the resort café.
Several of the tour group members were already dining when she entered, filling all the seats but one at their table. Sylvia was not among them. She didn’t see Miguel, either, but chose a different table with room for him. From the way his face lit up earlier when he mentioned the chile rellenos, she was certain he’d show up. And as Marisol slid the plate of food in front of her, she could see why. Dripping with melted cheese and salsa, the aroma alone brought on a rush of hunger. She eyed the heaping side servings of rice and beans and immediately began to justify carb loading. The llama trek, for example, would require energy. And she was on a semi-vacation, after all. Surely she could hit the floor and do a few sit-ups after it was over and no harm would be done.
“This looks fabulous,” Paige said, looking up. “How spicy is it…?” Marisol smiled and glanced over Paige’s shoulder.
“Not spicy at all.” Miguel slid into the chair beside her. “You are going to have to toughen up to survive this trip of yours, you know.” He pointed at his place setting with both index fingers, shooting a manipulative but sweet look to Marisol.
“I’m tough enough,” Paige protested. She startled as the door of the café slammed closed. She leaned forward, looking around Miguel to see that several more tour group members had entered. They took a table on the other side of the café. Sylvia and Martha had not yet arrived. She eased back in her chair and contemplated her meal.
“Poblano chiles are mild,” Miguel said, rubbing his hands together as Marisol emerged from the kitchen and set a matching plate in front of him. “And if you insist on being a wimp, you can just dig out the melted cheese from inside.”
“There’s more cheese inside?” Paige was already setting up a fitness routine in her head. Twenty minutes on the treadmill, twenty minutes on a stair master and a solid hour in spin class. That should do it, for half of the meal, anyway.
“Here,” Miguel said, sliding a basket of sopaipillas in her direction. “You can soak up the extra sauce and cheese with these. Best bread you will ever have.”
“You’re no help at all,” Paige said, mentally adding some jump roping to her workout.
This time when the café door opened, Sylvia and Martha entered. Paige tapped Miguel’s arm to get him to notice the two women and knocked a huge bite of rell
eno off his fork and back onto his plate.
“What?” he said. He stabbed his relleno again.
“Miguel! Pay attention!” Paige whispered. “That’s Sylvia, the one who said she bought Ana’s pin out of town. See the woman in the turquoise blouse?”
Miguel set down his fork and looked toward the front door. “She is not wearing any jewelry.”
“No,” Paige sighed. “You’re right, she’s not. But she was earlier.”
Impulsively, Paige stood up and waved across the room for Sylvia and Martha to join them. They were soon seated at the table with Paige and Miguel, dinner plates in front of them. Paige took a drink of water in preparation for whatever degree of spice lay ahead.
“Thank you for saving us,” Sylvia said. “I really didn’t want to sit at that other table.”
Martha leaned forward and whispered, “One of the single members of our group has the hots for Sylvia.”
Paige choked on her water, setting the glass down quickly. She could see Miguel grinning out of the corner of her eye. “Is that so?”
“Oh, I suppose he’s interested,” Sylvia admitted. “He was on the last tour I took, to the Panama Canal.” She took a bite of chile relleno and closed her eyes, sighing in satisfaction.
“Wouldn’t leave her alone,” Martha whispered, glancing over her shoulder as if sharing a top government secret.
“Is he by himself on this trip?” Paige looked over at the other table, noticing the empty chair beside one of the men.
“Yes,” Martha said. “On this trip and the last one, too. He was widowed about a year ago, I think.”
Paige reached for the basket of sopaipillas and offered them to both ladies. “Maybe he’s just lonely, Sylvia, and looking for someone to talk to.”
“Oh, don’t you believe that,” Martha giggled. “You know how men are. Always wanting a few benefits, if you know what I mean.” Impishly, she wiggled her eyebrows.
This time Miguel choked, much to Paige’s delight.
“Sylvia,” Paige said, changing the subject. “You’re not wearing that beautiful pin you had on earlier today. I was thinking about it after I saw you. I need a gift for an aunt and would love to pick up one for her. Have you remembered where you bought it?”
Sylvia shook her head. “No, I don’t know. We stopped at so many places.”
“Maybe it was that shop we stopped at when Gertrude needed to use the restroom,” Martha suggested.
“No,” Sylvia said, tearing off a piece of sopaipilla and putting it in her mouth.
“Or that other stop, when Ruby needed to go,” Martha offered.
Sylvia swallowed and turned to face her friend. “Martha, the bus driver had to stop for one person or another at every restroom on I-40! This is not going to help me remember where I bought the pin.”
“That’s OK,” Paige said quickly. “If you happen to remember later, I’d love to know.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Paige glanced over her shoulder as she paused on the trail. Miguel was twenty yards back, moving down the path, handing a water bottle to each of the nine guests who’d signed up for the llama trek. He took his time with each one, exchanging a few friendly words. He was good for the resort; she could see that now. He could charm guests of any age. Seeing Sylvia and Martha blush when he handed them their water bottles proved that.
They’d been fortunate with the weather. Though the sun shone strongly, the day was relatively cool. The exercise was challenging enough for the group without adding in high temperatures. Miguel had planned the trip to cover only half its normal length, avoiding a steeper portion of terrain.
Paige reached over and patted her hiking companion on the shoulder, getting a huff of appreciation in return.
“It’s just the two of us, Rico. We’re the leaders.”
“Hey, do not forget Josie, she is carrying half the lunch supplies,” Miguel said, coming up from the rear.
Josie didn’t look at all offended. She was busy nibbling at the leather harness of her saddle pack.
“How are Sylvia and Martha doing?” Paige couldn’t help worrying about the senior group. In spite of the shorter hiking plan, it was still a good deal of exercise. Even she felt a little short of breath, not that she was about to admit it.
“Fine,” Miguel said. “This is our third stop and the picnic area is just ahead. They will be rested before we head back down. Any more word about the pin that looked like Ana’s?”
“No,” Paige answered. “I asked Sylvia again right before we left the llama barn. She has no idea where she bought it. It sounds like they stopped at every trading post between Flagstaff and Albuquerque. That could be dozens of places.”
Paige looked out at the vista from their location on the trail. Tall cactus dotted the landscape, separated by low bursts of sagebrush and occasional splatters of red and gold flowers. Sparse, but gorgeous, she thought. It was so different from Wyoming and Montana, but beguiling in its own way.
“Maybe she just purchased it here, Miguel,” Paige said. “Sylvia could be confused about where she bought it. Obviously she doesn’t remember.”
“Maybe,” Miguel said, his tone unconvinced. “Or maybe someone is selling Ana’s pieces without her permission. You know, reselling them for a profit.”
Miguel swatted Josie’s rear end, to get her to move along. Paige copied him, and Rico started walking right away.
“Well, it’s not illegal to resell merchandise,” Paige pointed out as they moved forward. “Free enterprise and all that.”
“True,” Miguel acknowledged.
“But…sell them for less than they paid for them? That doesn’t make sense,” Paige added.
“Also true. Unless they just needed the money. Sometimes people get desperate and sell for whatever they can get.”
Miguel pointed to a clearing up ahead with several rustic benches set apart from the trail. As they approached the area, they pulled the llamas aside and waited for the guests to catch up. Miguel pulled blankets from Rico’s pack and spread them across the benches. “We usually use this as a resting point, but today we will stop for lunch here and then turn back.”
Paige watched Miguel pull a bag from Josie’s pack, distributing sandwiches to some of the guests. Paige helped herself to a second bag and did the same.
“You are a guest, you know.” Sylvia and Martha smiled as they took sandwiches from her. “You should sit and enjoy lunch.”
“I feel restless doing nothing,” Paige said.
When she looked up from her small task, she noticed that Miguel had walked down the trail thirty yards or so away from his charges. Odd. She saw Whitehorse waiting for him.
She turned her attention back to the tour members. “I’m not used to just sitting around.”
“Sometimes sitting is the best thing to do, youngster,” Sylvia said.
“That’s right,” Martha said.
Outnumbered, Paige took the last sandwich and sat down, watching Miguel from a distance. The conversation between the two men had grown animated. Although she couldn’t hear what they were saying, both gestured angrily with their arms.
By the time Miguel returned to the group, the last of the lunch meal was consumed.
“I am sorry for stepping away, ladies and gentlemen. I hope you enjoyed your lunch.”
Several group members declared that restrooms would be a good idea, so Miguel reloaded Rico and Josie’s packs and began the hike back to the resort. Paige kept step with Miguel.
“Are you OK?” she asked.
“Of course. Why do you ask?” He looked at the path ahead and not at Paige as he spoke.
“You looked upset while you were talking to Whitehorse,” Paige said.
“He should not have interrupted my work. But it is nothing for you to worry about.”
“All right then.” Paige patted Rico and dropped the subject.
Once they reached the resort, the guests scattered in various directions and Miguel returned the llamas to the
barn. Paige headed for her casita to shower off the trail dust. Despite the pleasant afternoon, a few things bothered her: the origin of Sylvia’s pin, the break-in at the spa her first night, and the unsettling interaction between Miguel and Whitehorse that afternoon. Her instincts told her something was wrong. And those instincts were usually right.
Twenty minutes later, she stood by the window, towel-drying her hair and soaking in the late afternoon sun as it flowed into the room. Tossing her towel over the back of a chair, she picked up her phone and dialed Jake’s number.
“A llama trek?”
Paige smiled at the sound of Jake’s voice. It made her casita feel a little less lonely. Or perhaps it felt more so, now that she thought about it. She hated that she was too far away to see him.
“Yes, a llama trek and picnic,” Paige said. “Miguel was taking some of the seniors out, so I went along. You should see the scenery from up on the trail, Jake. It’s breathtaking, completely different from Jackson Hole, but enchanting in a whole different way.”
“That’s nice,” Jake said. His voice was suddenly devoid of enthusiasm. “How’s the article coming? Have you found time to do your work?”
Paige removed the phone from her ear and looked at it, confused. It was Jake, no question, but it didn’t sound like him at all now. She placed the phone back against her ear.
“The article’s coming along fine. But remember, I’m also here on vacation. So I’m trying to take advantage of resort activities. Plus, getting involved will help me write a more authentic article.” Why was she even justifying her actions? What was really going on in this conversation?
“Jake?” Paige waited for a response, but heard only silence. “Jake, is something wrong? This doesn’t even sound like you.”
“I’m just…” Jake paused before continuing. “I’m just stressed about some ranch business. It’s nothing, really.”
Paige heard the sound of shuffling papers start up in the background, but didn’t buy the excuse. Something else was bothering him, but trying to pry it out wasn’t going to work. Ignoring his strange attitude, she continued on.
Paige MacKenzie Mysteries Box Set Page 48