Paige MacKenzie Mysteries Box Set

by Deborah Garner

  “Good…I mean, that sounds perfect,” Paige said. “I’ll see you at the inn later.”

  “Be careful.” Jake placed a soft kiss on Paige’s forehead and left.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  As Paige approached the museum’s entrance, she heard a faint murmur of voices. She would have gone on in had she not heard the words “missing money” as she reached for the door handle. Noting a window slightly open to one side, she stepped closer to listen, leaning against the wall and checking her cell phone as a cover for her eavesdropping.

  “It wasn’t that much at first. Just a few dollars here or there, I figured.”

  Paige easily recognized the voice as Jesse’s. He sounded more baffled than angry.

  “That could have been anyone. You’re not always up here in front. Maybe it’s a teen, out to cause trouble, not after the money itself.” Henry’s voice. The conversation paused.

  Paige held still, hoping they hadn’t noticed her presence. Still, eyes focused on her cell phone, she had an excuse ready.

  “I don’t understand,” Jesse continued. “It seems every time we get ahead, a little more disappears.”

  The sound of a cash drawer opening and closing followed.

  “You could put in a security camera,” Henry suggested.

  “That’s mighty expensive. We’re not talking large amounts here, usually just a ten, or sometimes a twenty. It’s not like someone’s cleaning out the register. I’d rather take the money for a security camera and put that into the restoration fund. We don’t need some fancy electronic surveillance system.”

  “Just tryin’ to help,” Henry said. “Anyway, I’m off to finish the birdbath for that daughter of yours.”

  “She’ll appreciate that.”

  “I know she will, sweet thing. You’re doing a good job raising her, Jesse. I’ll try to bring something by for her later today. If not, I’m sure I can manage tomorrow.”

  Even though Paige knew Henry was about to emerge from the museum, the speed of his exit startled her. Her supposed focus on the cell phone, along with nips of guilt about eavesdropping, made her surprise at seeing him seem genuine.

  She stifled her jumpiness.

  “Henry, hi there.”

  “Paige, good to see you again. I thought you and that Jake fellow went off to lunch.”

  “We did,” Paige said, sliding her phone into her jeans pocket. “Just finished. That’s a great lunch place, The Rails Café.”

  “Yes, indeed. They’ve got the best pecan pie this side of the Mississippi. Did you try it?”

  Paige laughed and relaxed. “Not today, but it was tempting. Maybe tomorrow.”

  “What brings you back by here so soon?”

  “I wanted to check on…” Paige paused. Mentioning the donation fund seemed unwise after the conversation she’d just overheard. “…the timeline for the Durango-Silverton line. When it was built, how often it ran, that type of thing. For the article I’m working on.”

  Henry pulled a bandana out of his pocket and ran it across his forehead. “Well, you can get all that information inside, but I can tell you the basics. The line started running back in 1882, after the company spent about a year putting down tracks from Durango to Silverton. Used it to haul gold and silver out of the San Juan Mountains.”

  “No passengers?”

  “Sure, there were passengers from the start. The railroad knew they could promote it as a scenic route. But it was critical for transporting ore from the mines. Served both purposes.”

  “And then Hutchins Creek came along in 1887,” Paige said.

  “Yes it did. That’s when they put in a new line from Silverton to Ouray. Jed Hutchins worked on that line. Needed a place to settle down. And a fine place he picked, too.”

  Henry paused to look around them, and Paige did, too. The mountain air was clean and crisp, the sky a cobalt blue. “You go on in. Jesse knows every bit of history there is. I’ve got to finish making that birdbath.”

  “That’s right,” Paige laughed. “I think you do.”

  “I’ve got a good start. Can’t disappoint the young lady,” Henry said.

  “No, I can understand that,” Paige said. “She seemed quite determined to get that birdbath. You must have a lot of birds up here in the mountains. Sweet of her to want to look out for them.”

  “We have birds here, all right. Finches, swallows and wrens. Hawks, eagles and owls. If it has feathers, you can find it here.”

  Paige laughed. “I’ll let you get on with your task, then. Thanks for the quick facts on the railroad line. And all the fine-feathered friends, too.”

  With a quick goodbye, Henry walked to the street, fired up Lulu and headed off. Paige waved as he drove away, and then turned back toward the museum. Entering, she found Jesse behind the counter, pad and pencil in front of him, scribbling notes or numbers or both. She couldn’t quite tell without appearing too nosy.

  “Back again, I see.” Jesse greeted her with a smile that bore no evidence of the troubling conversation she’d overheard from outside. “How was The Rails Café?”

  “Excellent,” Paige said. “You didn’t steer us wrong. I loved the Cajun Caboose Croutons on my salad and that Iced Trestle Tea was excellent.”

  “Yep, pretty darn refreshing. And those croutons are addicting. I put them in soup, on salads, and just about anything else I can. Even eat them as snacks sometimes.” Jesse shuffled some paperwork and dropped it below the sales counter. “You just missed Henry.”

  “No, I saw him on my way in, talked for a couple of minutes. He’s off to finish the birdbath for Sam.” Paige crossed the room and peered outside. The back yard was empty.

  “She went home,” Jesse said, watching Paige. “But she’ll turn up here if Henry comes back today.”

  “I’ll bet,” Paige said. “She seems determined to care for the bird. Speaking of which, is this any particular bird she’s talking about?”

  “Not that I know of,” Jesse said. He broke into a grin. “That girl’s imagination is spectacular. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s just making up stories. But we do have birds all over the place here, all sorts of varieties.”

  “That’s what Henry said.” Paige paused before changing the subject, deciding on the best approach. “I’m thinking about working the restoration angle into the article I’m writing. It seems like a good match – the history of the railroad combined with efforts to keep that history recorded for the future.”

  Jesse sighed, but gave no other sign that anything was wrong. “Well, I agree with you, of course. I’ve tried to do as much as possible to update exhibits. Not just for visitors, but for people who’ve lived here all their lives. Because this community was built around the railroad, that history is a part of each of our lives. It’s important we preserve it.”

  “You’re doing a great job,” Paige said, looking around. “I think the museum is fascinating. I’m especially fond of that model of The Morning Star. Such wonderful detail.”

  “Yes,” Jesse agreed. “Now if only we can get the actual car restored.”

  “How’s that going?” A trickle of guilt ran through Paige, knowing she was trying to dig out information about something she already knew.

  “Not as quickly as I’d like. We’re getting donations in, but…” He paused, as if debating what to say. “But not as much as we need.”

  “It takes time,” Paige said, for lack of another comment.

  “Shouldn’t be taking this much time,” Jesse said. He didn’t elaborate.

  The train whistle sounded, and a man and a young boy entered. Jesse nodded hello to the duo. The adult headed for the historical photos along the wall, while the boy who was about five, made a beeline for the model.

  “Regulars, the Porters,” Jesse said, which explained why the child knew right where he wanted to go. “They come up from Durango pretty often. Used to come with the mother, too, but they got divorced a ways back. I think the dad wants to keep some things regular. They’re p
robably staying at the inn for the night. Usually do. Nice family, even with the break up. Rose always enjoys it when they stay. Stephen has heart. I sympathize with his status as a single father.”

  “Makes sense to me that they visit often,” Paige said. “I’d do the same if I lived close by.” She kept her eyes on the boy, enjoying his fascination with the miniature train car.

  Jesse excused himself to greet the Porters. Paige waved goodbye and left through the back.

  Scanning the empty yard, Paige started for the side exit gate. She turned back when she heard a scuffling noise. Standing still, she listened carefully, but now, there was only quiet. Had she imagined it? No, it had been faint, but definite.

  “Sam?” No answer.

  Walking the perimeter of the yard, she searched for the source, but found nothing and no one. Except for a light breeze, the yard was still and empty. Deciding the wind must have caused the sound, she headed back to the inn.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Paige found Jake sitting on the front porch of the inn, a laptop in front of him. A glass of lemonade sat on a nearby table, a plate of fresh-baked cookies alongside it.

  “Looks like Rose is spoiling you,” Paige laughed.

  “That she is,” Jake said, setting the laptop on the table. “And I don’t mind it one bit.” He caught Paige by the arm and swung her down into his lap. Wrapping his arms around her, he gently cupped one hand behind her head and pulled her close for a kiss.

  “I could get used to this,” Paige sighed, nestling against his shoulder.

  “Exactly my plan,” Jake whispered.

  “I might even make you lemonade and cookies.”

  “Even more reason to keep you around,” Jake teased.

  The front door opened, and Rose set down a second frosty glass of lemonade

  “Saw you coming up the walk,” Rose said. “This man has been working hard out here since he returned. Maybe he’ll take a break now.”

  “Maybe,” Paige laughed. “Maybe not.” She thanked Rose for the lemonade and watched her walk back inside, then turned back to Jake. “So how’s the ranch work coming along?”

  “Slow but steady. I’m just anxious to get as much done as possible,” Jake said. He dropped his head back against the chair and rubbed Paige’s shoulder with one hand.

  “This is the prime season for outdoor work now, isn’t it?” Paige asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Absolutely,” Jake said. “Once winter hits, most construction comes to a standstill. And we never know when winter might start in Wyoming.”

  “November? December?”

  “Maybe,” Jake laughed. “But it could be October, for all I know. It can snow any day of the year in Jackson Hole.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes, seriously. But it’s a fluke when it happens in summer, and it doesn’t stick. I have several good months left to get the work done. Provided I get the supplies in and hire some help.”

  “Did you reach your lumber person?”

  “Yes,” Jake said, his tone relieved. “It should just be a few more days before the shipment comes in.”

  “Oh no!” Paige said suddenly. “You won’t have to go back right away, will you? Not after you drove all the way down here?”

  Jake laughed and kissed Paige again. “Don’t you worry your pretty self about that. You’re stuck with me for the week.”

  “Just as I hoped,” Paige said. She ran one finger along the ridge of Jake’s nose and laughed, then straightened up as footsteps approached. Standing, she said hello to a familiar duo walking up to the inn, suitcases in hand. Jake stood to greet them, as well.

  “I believe you’re the Porters,” Paige said. “I saw you at the train museum. Jesse said you’d probably be staying here. I’m Paige and this is Jake.”

  “Glad to meet you,” the man said. “I’m Stephen, and this is my son, Tommy.”

  “Like the train engine,” Jake said, bending down to shake the boy’s hand.

  “That’s right!” Tommy said, excited enough to drop his backpack on the porch.

  Paige stifled a laugh at Jake’s sudden knowledge of children’s books, but she was delighted he could appear so enlightened to the child.

  “A coincidence,” Stephen said. “But he does love trains.”

  “Yes, I noticed he ran straight for the model at the museum,” Paige said.

  “He loves that model,” Stephen said. “Every time we visit Hutchins Creek, we go by the museum. We keep hoping The Morning Star will be restored.”

  “You and a lot of other people,” Rose said, stepping out onto the porch. She reached for one of the suitcases, but Stephen held up his hand to turn down the help.

  “Rose, you always say we’re like family here, so you need to let us do our part,” Stephen protested. He nudged Tommy toward the front door, encouraging him to pick up the backpack.

  Jake stepped forward and picked up one of the suitcases Stephen had set down. He disappeared into the inn with the new arrivals following him. He returned after a minute and sat down.

  Paige pulled up a second chair. As tempted as she was to settle back on Jake’s lap, she realized they were on the inn’s front porch in plain sight of the world.

  “It seems like that train car is a popular attraction here,” Jake said. “They should get going with the restoration.”

  Paige took a sip of lemonade and gathered her thoughts.

  “I agree,” she said. “But I’m beginning to think it’s more complicated than that.”

  “In what way?”

  Paige hesitated, still forming her thoughts. “I overheard a conversation when I went back to the museum.”

  “You overheard a conversation?” Jake shook his head, half amused, half concerned. “Exactly where were you when you overhead this conversation. Accidentally, I suppose.”

  “Outside the museum.”

  Jake rubbed his chin. “As in, maybe, standing by an open window where you couldn’t be seen? Hmm?”

  “Something like that,” Paige admitted. “But that’s beside the point. I think…” She paused and looked around to make sure they were alone. “I think there’s more delaying the restoration than lack of donations.”

  “What do you mean? Everyone seems to be enthusiastic about it, at least everyone we’ve met so far.”

  “That’s how it seems on the surface. But I overheard…”

  “…accidentally…” Jake prompted.

  “Yes, I accidentally overheard…” Again Paige lowered her voice, this time to barely a whisper. “Money has been disappearing from the register.”

  “What? Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure what I heard. Jesse and Henry were talking about it. At least, Jesse was telling Henry about it.”

  “How much money are we talking about?” Jake picked up his lemonade, took a drink, and set it back down.

  “Not much,” Paige said. “A ten or a twenty here and there. Whoever is doing this isn’t clearing out the register.”

  “It’s still theft. Not enough to hold up the restoration, though, I wouldn’t think.”

  “True and true. Maybe just slow it down. But I don’t think that’s the point.”

  “Then what is the point?”

  “The point is…someone doesn’t want the car to be restored.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Paige curled up in the front room of the inn, laptop in front of her, typing in notes about railroad history. Between the information at the museum and online searches, the story was beginning to take shape. She had so many possible angles: the importance of the railroad to western commerce, the survival of area mining, the development of towns as workers settled down. She just needed to choose a direction now. That, and she needed to keep her focus, which was becoming a challenge. Even as she typed up her outline, her mind kept wandering back to the restoration efforts for The Morning Star.

  Across the room, Jake sat buried in a book, a mug of coffee in one hand. They’d returned from The
Iron Horse an hour before, both delighted with their second meal at the restaurant.

  “Another Longmire book?” Paige didn’t need to see the cover to know the answer. Jake had been binge-reading the popular Craig Johnson series for months.

  “How did you guess?” Jake raised the mug of coffee to his lips, took a drink and lowered it again, his eyes never leaving the pages.

  Paige smiled and looked back at her notes. She wrote; he read. No words were necessary for them to enjoy each other’s company. Just sitting with him filled her with happiness.

  “I know she can be a handful.” Rose’s voice drifted out from the kitchen. Pauses let Paige know the innkeeper was on the phone. “True, Jesse, but she’s always been a bit of a tomboy. Hang in there. You’ll get through these years, and the next decade, too.” Paige could hear Rose chuckle as she ended the call, and for good reason. Jesse’s child-rearing days were far from over.

  Rose was still laughing when she walked into the front room. Paige looked up from her work and smiled. Jake raised his eyes from the book long enough to nod hello.

  “Oh, don’t let me bother you two,” Rose said. “My brother just amuses me at times. He does a great job raising Samantha, but sometimes things throw him for a loop. Like today, when Samantha came home covered in dirt.”

  “Covered in dirt?” Paige smiled. She’d been the same way as a young girl, always climbing trees, never worried about being prim and proper. “That was me, as a child,” Paige laughed.

  “Why does that not surprise me at all?” A smile spread across Jake’s face as he spoke, though his eyes stayed focused on the book.

  “Well, it’s not so much the dirt that’s bothersome,” Rose continued. “It’s easy enough to throw her in the shower. But she does push the limits, crawling around in that back yard. She’s been told not to, but the child’s off in her own world a lot of the time. We have trouble keeping her out from under that train car, for one thing.”

  “Under The Morning Star?” Paige leaned forward, interested.