Paige MacKenzie Mysteries Box Set

by Deborah Garner

  “Anyway, we took Josie and Rico up to a picnic area with nine guests from the senior tour group.”

  “We?” Jake’s tone was flat.

  “Yes, Miguel and….” Aha! Paige had to fight to not laugh out loud. Seriously? She opened her mouth to respond and then closed it again. Why should she have to defend herself? She’d done nothing wrong. For one thing, nothing but casual friendship was going on with Miguel. And for another, the nature of her relationship with Jake wasn’t clear. This was one of the problems with the long distance situation. It was hard to define when their time together was so limited. As the implications of Jake’s cool attitude set in, she felt less flattered by his jealousy and more annoyed by his lack of trust.

  “Paige…?”

  “Maybe we should just talk later.” Paige had no desire to argue and, whether Jake was headed in that direction or just letting insecurities get the best of him, patience had never been one of her virtues. It would be wiser to end the call than to let it evolve into a confrontation.

  “Fine.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” Paige said, avoiding the obvious: she could call him that night, if she wanted to. At the moment, she didn’t.

  “Fine,” Jake repeated. The sound of rustling papers resumed, just another reminder of the ranch life that she wasn’t a part of.

  Paige ended the call and tossed her cell phone on the bed. She had her own work to do, both for The Manhattan Post and for her growing curiosity about everything going on at the resort. She didn’t have time to argue. Even if she did, she had no desire to.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The parking lot at Luz’s shop was empty when Whitehorse pulled in, aside from Lena’s car. This wasn’t by chance. He knew exactly when Luz finished serving breakfast at the resort and when she would arrive at the shop. Since Miguel refused to get him any more jewelry, Luz’s morning assistant was his best source. She was a perfect solution, at least temporarily, until he could wrangle more out of Miguel. She was honest and naïve enough not to be curious about his motives, yet just materialistic enough to go along with a bit of bribery. In this case, that meant a quick profit. No harm done. He got what he needed, no laws were broken, and she had a few extra bucks in her pocket. That was an advantage of doing business with someone new in town, someone who didn’t know his untrustworthy reputation.

  Lena was seated behind the sales counter, reading, but smiled when he walked in and stood up to greet him.

  “A nice morning out there,” she said, pulling out a velvet display tray and setting it on the counter.

  “Yes, it is,” Whitehorse answered. “And an even better one if you have something new for me today.”

  “Of course I do,” Lena said, indicating the display. At least a dozen pieces of jewelry were arranged on the tray. Most were pins of varying designs, with a few sets of earrings and pendants mixed in. “Your Santa Fe customers ought to like this new piece of Ana’s, don’t you think?” She lifted up a silver cactus pin with several flowers of inlaid coral.

  “Nice,” Whitehorse said, setting the piece aside. Silently, he sighed. If only he actually had Santa Fe customers to sell it to. At least his lies were consistent. Not as much to keep track of and fewer chances of accidental slips in conversations. “What else?”

  “This new pendant is beautiful.” Lena held up a small sun design, which swayed from a silver chain.

  “A little small for these customers,” he said. “They like pieces that are big enough to catch someone’s attention.” Exactly like he was trying not to do, he thought – catch anyone’s attention.

  “How about this?” Lena pulled out another tray, indicating a silver galloping horse. Tiny specks of turquoise dotted the horse’s mane.

  “Yes, definitely that one.” Whitehorse set it aside with the cactus pin. “I can use a third today,” he said, when Lena paused.

  “I don’t know. That might seem odd to Luz. I usually only buy one or two, at the most.”

  Whitehorse leaned forward, looking Lena in the eye. “That’s your problem. We have an arrangement. I pay you, you pay the store, and everything’s covered. You should be able to sell me ten pieces without a problem.”

  “The problem is that I’m not wearing the pieces I’m buying,” Lena pointed out. “Luz has already mentioned this.”

  “Do you have another piece, or not?” Whitehorse was losing his patience. “I don’t have all day. And you know Luz will be here soon.” He glanced at the clock on the shop wall. Lena did the same, looking back at him, resigned.

  “How about this one?” She picked up a larger piece from the first tray, a turtle with inlaid stones of lapis, turquoise and malachite.

  “Fine.” Whitehorse said. “Ring them up.” He watched while she entered the items into the cash register. “What’s the total today?” he asked.

  “Ninety-seven dollars and forty-two cents.”

  Whitehorse pulled one hundred dollars from his wallet and watched her complete the sale. After she handed him his change, she placed the jewelry in a small bag and held onto it. Whitehorse threw another hundred on the counter and grabbed the bag.

  “Keep the change this time,” he grumbled. “We are fair and square now, Lena. You bought them from Luz and paid retail. I bought them from you at double that price – that part is our secret. My customers will buy them from me for more than that, so all is good.”

  Whitehorse returned to his truck, backed out of the parking lot and headed for the cantina. Juanita would be opening soon for the usual lunch customers who somehow survived their workdays on nachos and beer. He couldn’t do anything with the new jewelry until later, anyway. Joining the crowd seemed like a good plan.

  When he arrived, Juanita was just swinging the door of the Coyote Cantina open. She looked up, nodded her head and went back inside, leaving the door propped open for the customers who were pulling into the parking lot. A sign by the entrance read, “Tuesday Special: Nachos and a Draft - $6.” With draft refills at just two dollars, almost everyone in town would turn up at Juanita’s at some point on any given Tuesday. On one hand, that meant he might run into people he didn’t want to see. On the other hand, most people knew they could find him there, anyway, Tuesday or any of six other days.

  He shoved the jewelry from Luz’s shop into his glove compartment and headed inside, taking what he considered to be his own seat at the bar. Juanita slid his favorite beer in front of him and called in an order to the kitchen for nachos with extra jalapeños.

  “You make me feel like I’ve come home, Juanita,” Whitehorse said, wrapping a hand around the beer.

  “You should, Whitehorse,” Juanita said. “You just about live here.” She waved her hand at a group of arriving customers, indicating a side table. She then slapped her hand on the pass-through and called in another order of nachos to the kitchen, this one without jalapeños, but with extra cheese. She grabbed the first order and set it in front of him.

  “I gotta hand it to you,” Whitehorse said. “You do know your customers.”

  “Only a fool in business wouldn’t.” Juanita poured four draft beers and served them to her new customers. Whitehorse watched the old bartender, then turned back to find a hand reaching into his plate of nachos.

  “What…? Oh, it’s you, of course,” Whitehorse grumbled, looking up to see Miguel holding a chip dripping with cheese.

  “You must keep your eyes open if you do not want anything stolen.” Miguel sat down two stools away, leaving space between them. Leaning forward, he made sure he could still reach the nachos. “Like jewelry, for example.”

  Whitehorse took a slow drink from his draft. He pulled a jalapeño-covered nacho from his plate and wolfed it down, following it with another slug of beer before speaking.

  “My customers are paying up this weekend. You’ll have the money then.”

  “How about I go on up to Santa Fe with you and help collect,” Miguel said. “If they are young and attractive, I might have better luck than you.�
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  Whitehorse ignored the snide remark. It had been a long time since he could play Miguel’s handsome bachelor game, but that was the least of his problems now.

  “I assure you, they’re not young and attractive.”

  Juanita passed by, setting draft refills in front of both men.

  “How’s that sister of yours doing, Whitehorse?” Juanita said. The question eased the friction in the conversation between the two men.

  “Fine, I guess. I don’t see her much,” Whitehorse said. “Once or twice a week I have dinner with her.”

  “I saw her a couple days ago,” Miguel said, swiping another nacho and grimacing when he took a bite. “What is with all these jalapeños?”

  “What’s with you stealing my nachos?” Whitehorse pulled the plate out of Miguel’s reach. “And just when did you see my sister?”

  “It was…Sunday, I think.” Miguel paused. “Yes, Sunday, over at St. Bernadette’s.”

  Whitehorse threw his head back and roared with laughter. Even Juanita cracked a smile.

  “Miguel, you are so full of it,” Whitehorse barked. “You haven’t been to Mass since the Macias sisters’ confirmation and that was five years ago. Everyone in this town knows Padre Juan has been after you ever since.”

  “And he only went that time because Luz made him go,” Juanita added. “And only because they were her godchildren.”

  “It’d take a miracle to get you to that church.” Whitehorse lifted his beer and shook his head from side to side. Pausing, he added, “Or…something more enticing. A pretty lady, maybe? Like the one who was in here the other day?”

  “That’s right,” Juanita said. “Hate to admit it, but every now and then you’re smart, Whitehorse. You mean that reporter from New York.”

  “Paige,” Miguel said. “And even if she is attractive…”

  Whitehorse and Juanita mouthed the word “if” to each other.

  “…it is not enough to get me inside the church, but I did stop by because I saw her outside the courtyard after Mass had ended.”

  “You mean when my sister was telling her stories,” Whitehorse said. “What silly tales did she tell this week?”

  Miguel shrugged his shoulders. “I did not hear them. Paige said she told the Wind Bird story.”

  “An old one, but a good one,” Whitehorse said. “At least she’s sticking to the traditional legends instead of making up her own. I don’t know if she knows reality from imagination anymore. She’s old.”

  “No,” Juanita quipped. “You’re old. She’s older.”

  “There’s no need for flattery, now.” Whitehorse glared at Juanita. “What else did she tell?”

  “Fox and Rabbit,” Miguel added. “How Rabbit lost his tail.”

  “Another good one,” Juanita said, waving more customers inside. “Wonder what she’ll come up with next week.”

  “Next week is something about boxes,” Miguel added.

  Whitehorse stiffened. “What did you say?”

  “Just something a little girl said while I was there. That next week Abuela would be telling a story about boxes,” Miguel said.

  “Nothing strange about that to me,” Juanita said. “Remember that time she told the story of the giant watermelon falling from the sky? That was hardly an authentic legend.”

  “Yes!” Miguel laughed. “And all the seeds fell out when it landed and turned into aliens who only came to earth because there were no tamales on their planet.”

  “Why so quiet, Whitehorse?” Juanita said. “It’s great your sister has a good imagination, keeps her young. Maybe the boxes will have aliens, too – aliens who are coming for nachos this time.” She grabbed a hot plate from the pass-through and took it out to a table.

  Whitehorse downed his beer and set the empty mug on the bar. He stood up, pulled some folded bills out of his wallet and dropped them on the counter.

  “My money by this weekend,” Miguel reminded him.

  “You’ll have it.”

  It wasn’t until Whitehorse climbed into his truck and slammed the door that he let himself explode. Pounding his fist against the steering wheel, he spewed a string of curse words that would make hot sauce sweet in comparison. It was probably just paranoia, he told himself. How could his sister know about the boxes? Hadn’t he been cautious when taking telephone calls whenever he was at her place? Had she overheard him on the phone with Hector? Had he let anything slip? No, it had to be coincidence that she had stories about boxes in her head. But coincidence or not, he couldn’t take any chances.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Paige hung her robe on the wall hook inside the treatment room and slipped off the gel slippers, setting them on the floor beneath the robe. Slipping under the sheet on the table, she stretched out, face down, and felt her body relax into the heated surface beneath her. A week before, she might have felt too modest to sign up for a massage. But Ana’s recommendation of their new therapist had been convincing and, after all, she was in vacation mode.

  Being in the spa allowed Paige to still her mind, something she’d never been good at doing. The ambient music spilling from the speakers and the scent of eucalyptus soothed her. And…was that citrus? It smelled like the fresh grated orange zest that her grandmother used to add to cranberry nut bread.

  Paige shifted on the table, opening her eyes long enough to admire a trio of candles on a side table, each set at a different height. Closing her eyes again, she adjusted her arms against her side, then above her, elbows out, and then settled with them back by her side.

  She heard a light tap, and the door opened and closed gently as the therapist entered. Paige took a deep breath and exhaled, willing her mind to quiet down.

  “I’m your massage therapist, Lena. Are you comfortable?” Her soft voice blended with the music.

  “Very,” Paige said. It was true. The combination of music, candlelight, aromatherapy and heated sheets already had Paige half asleep. Even without a massage, she thought, a nap in a room like this would settle nerves and ease stress.

  Lena folded back the portion of sheet that covered Paige’s right leg. Paige felt the cooler air settle over her skin, soon followed by the smooth gliding of Lena’s hands over her muscles. Scents of sweet almond and rosemary from massage lotion mingled with the eucalyptus and citrus.

  “Are we allowed to talk?” Paige whispered.

  “Of course, if you want,” Lena replied. Paige thought she heard a smile in her voice.

  “That feels wonderful,” Paige sighed. “This resort is wonderful. Everything here is wonderful.”

  “As it should be,” Lena said, her tone smooth and calm. “Is this the first time you’ve had a massage?” She applied more lotion and began to work both thumbs into Paige’s calf.

  “No,” Paige said. “But it’s been a long time, at least five years. I work a lot and travel a lot. I really don’t take vacations.”

  “Then you’re overdue.”

  “I know,” Paige admitted. She could hear the resignation in her own voice.

  “I hope you love your work, to spend so much time at it. What do you do, if I may ask?”

  “I do love my work,” Paige said. “I’m a reporter for The Manhattan Post, where I write travel features. Right now I’m working on a series about the Old West.”

  “And that brought you to Agua Encantada?” Lena let her hands glide downward along Paige’s leg and began working on her foot, giving specific pressure points extra attention.

  Paige sighed as her muscles continued to loosen. Her feet had always been ticklish, but Lena’s touch was purely relaxing.

  “Yes. My editor, Susan, and I decided to include the Southwest in the series, and this article on the mineral hot springs will complement a special issue on health. Since I knew I needed a break, I arranged to stay here beyond the time it should take me to finish the assignment.”

  “You won’t regret it,” Lena said. “Luz tells me that a lot of her guests return every year the way people have
been returning to the waters for centuries.” She draped the sheet over Paige’s leg and moved around the table to work on her left leg.

  Paige relaxed into silence and let herself fall into a half sleep as Lena worked through the muscles of her left leg then her shoulder blades and back. Paige let out a cross between a sigh and a groan. Why had she gone so long without indulging in this treat? She worked hard. She deserved it. She needed to start taking better care of herself. She knew running herself in circles was part of the reason she often felt stressed or had trouble sleeping.

  As if she had read Paige’s thoughts, Lena said, “Massage therapy is a way to bring body, mind and spirit together, as well as relaxing muscles. We get so scattered these days, we forget to take care of ourselves. This is nothing new. The ancient Chinese and Egyptians knew this; they used massage therapy thousands of years ago.”

  “That makes sense,” Paige managed to mutter as Lena’s hands pressed down on her shoulders. Paige followed Lena’s directions to roll over onto her back as Lena held the sheet up to give Paige privacy. Once settled again under the sheet, she felt Lena’s hands pulling gently on both sides of her neck, stretching the muscles. She could picture her neck growing longer. She felt lighter, even taller. Must do this more often…

  “Is this what you do full time?” Paige asked. “I hope so, for the sake of your clients and those who haven’t discovered you yet.”

  “No, just part time. I actually gave it up for a while, but I missed helping clients. The spa is one of several reasons I moved to this area a little while ago,” Lena answered. “I also work in Luz’s store in Tres Palomas. Have you been there?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact,” Paige said. “I just visited the other day. She stocks so many wonderful things. I especially love the storyteller dolls. And Ana’s jewelry, of course. I bought a pendant and a pair or earrings, the ones with the silver dove design.”