by Mary Coley
Would Dale and Max Hardesty be able to tell her the history of Jandafar Hills? What were the chances they might know the owner of the book, Molly Bergen, possibly a.k.a. Jenna Wade?
Mandy drove the speed limit, enjoying the late August morning air and the verdant countryside. She’d negotiated the final part of a switchback curve when headlights flashed behind her, glaring in her mirrors. It was the Denali.
Her heart began a hammering rhythm, a crazy beat that crawled from her chest up into her head. Where was the next pullout?
Bang! The huge white SUV rammed her rear bumper.
Mandy slammed her foot down on the accelerator and pulled ahead for an instant, but the white vehicle was soon on top of her again.
Another jarring bump jerked her entire body. Her car skidded sideways. She twisted the wheel, trying to stay on the road, but the big vehicle butted her again. Her car pitched onto the shoulder and the right front tire thudded into a hole.
It shuddered, then pitched and rolled down an embankment.
“You’re okay, miss. We’re going to get you out and to the hospital. Do you hurt anywhere?” The speaker’s voice sounded far away. “Miss? Miss? Look at me.”
She worked her eyelids open. Her head pounded, and pain shot through her arm and leg. The car lay on its side, and the air bag and her seat belt were holding her in an impossible vertical position. “My arm hurts.”
“What about your legs? Can you wiggle your toes?”
She could, but her legs hung at a weird angle and her knees hurt. “Yes, both feet. But I can’t pull them out. I’m trapped. Where’s the dog?” She tried to look for Moby, but her neck was jammed by the tight seatbelt and the inflated air bag.
“Dog’s okay. He’s up on the road. And we’ll get you out. The door is smashed. We’ll get our equipment hooked on and get it open. You sit tight.”
“Not going anywhere,” Mandy muttered, more to herself than to the EMT.
With a screech, the door opened. Arms reached in and a disembodied hand used a blade to deflate the airbag and slice her seatbelt in two. Another set of arms eased her out of the car and onto a flat carrier. They strapped her onto the board and hoisted her up the hillside to a waiting ambulance.
“I don’t think the hospital is necessary. I think I’m okay,” she protested. She could see the hospital bills now, and as of yesterday, or whatever date they used as her severance date, she no longer had medical insurance.
“We’ll let the professionals at the hospital in Lawton decide. That’s where we’re headed.”
“My dog?”
“We have a pet kennel for vacationers. Not too full since season’s nearly over. I’m sure they’ll watch him for you.”
A policeman walked over as they shoved the gurney into the ambulance. “I’ll follow you to the hospital. We’ll need to talk there.”
Three hours later, Mandy left the emergency room, discharge papers in hand. The policeman had brought her bag and purse, interviewed her about the accident, and told her which garage had towed in her car.
“Where can I rent a car?” she asked the volunteer at the information desk.
“Champion’s Car Rental. Local operation, no Avis or Enterprise,” the old gentleman said. He looked over his bifocals at her. “Had an accident, did you? Doing okay?”
“Yes, I’m okay. Banged up and sore. Do you have a number, or could I use your desk phone to call them? Do they pick people up?”
“I reckon we could talk ol’ Doug into coming out to pick you up, since he’s only a half-mile down the road. Let me call him.”
An hour later, Doug, a skinny white-haired talker who winked at her after every sentence he spoke, had picked her up, taken her back to his shop, and rented her a 2015 Trail Blazer. She used her credit card. He didn’t ask for ID.
“Your car’s at Sparks, yeah? They’ll get it drivable, but it may not be pretty. You staying around here? Not driving out of state, are you, Missy?”
She knew Doug would spread the word about her as soon as she had driven away from his car lot. Gossip was the lifeblood of small towns, and people kept score on who had the freshest gossip. She thought it was even possible that Nancy, at the café in Medicine Park, might have already started a gossip thread about her, and that Doug wanted to tie onto it.
“Might be looking for work. Was on my way out to Jandafar Hills when someone ran me off the road.”
“Ran you off the road? Get a look at the idjit?”
“Wish I had, but no. They came up on me too fast. I was busy trying to keep my car on the road, but that big white SUV rammed me until I skidded off.”
Doug shook his head. “Dammit. People can be fools on these roads, in such a hurry! Well, you be careful. And not just because you’re in my rental. Got a cousin works at that burger place up in Meers. Been there? Worth stoppin’ in.”
“If I have time, I will. I may be staying for a while if I find work.”
The man peered at her. “We’d be pleased to have you move here, and Jandafar wouldn’t be a bad place to work. Dale Hardesty’s a sweet lady.”
“What do you know about the place? Any interesting history?” Nancy had mentioned a fire. Jandafar could be where Jenna’s parents had died.
Doug lowered his head and squinted at her. “You sure all you want is a job? You a reporter?”
“No. Just looking for a job.”
Doug frowned at her. “That right?”
“I’m superstitious. Sometimes I ask for morbid details when I ought to let it go. I’m not sure about Jandafar as a place to work. If somebody died there…”
“It was a long time ago. Bad cabin fire. Married couple with teenagers. The kids up and disappeared, figured that whoever set the fire took off with them, else they were completely incinerated. Never found hide nor hair.”
Gooseflesh rose on Mandy’s neck. “When was this?”
“Been a while. Fifteen, twenty years or so.” He scratched his forehead. “Hmmm. Hadn’t thought about that business for a while. Had a crime writer come through here a couple years ago wanting to dig it all up again. Don’t think he got far with his investigation. We keep our calamities close to our chests. Don’t do no good to talk about it. Won’t make it go away, and leaves a bad taste in your mouth, you know?”
Mandy signed the paperwork.
“Oh, don’t you worry about that business. It was a long time ago. Where hasn’t somebody died on this planet? Ghosts must be floating all around us. You get on out there and talk to the Hardestys.”
Doug stood in the doorway of his office as she trudged out to the rental SUV and waved goodbye. She’d head for Jandafar again. But first, she had to swing by the police station, get directions to the kennel, and retrieve Moby.
At the police station, she looked for Officer Findley, but he was off duty. She was directed to the local animal shelter.
Moby greeted her with a bark and frantic full-body wags. She was glad for the dog’s companionship. It would have been nice if Will was here, or even to have had Mike’s company.
The advantage with the dog was that he never disagreed with her or told her what to do. She slipped gingerly back into the rented vehicle. Her muscles had stiffened and every joint screamed.
~ Chapter 24 ~
Jenna
Sweat glued her dark hair to her forehead. The panic receded, and her breath came evenly again.
She was all right.
She was still safe.
It had been a close call, hearing them nearby, looking for… her?
What if she’d done the wrong thing?
What if the painting meant nothing?
What if finding it in that gallery was only a coincidence and not a message?
Why had she told Mandy?
She pinched her eyelids shut, but tears flowed anyway.
Why had she mentioned Jandafar to Mandy?
What if they killed her? What if Mandy came and they killed them both?
She started to hyperventilate agai
n.
Deep breath. Slow.
Breathe in. Slow.
Count to ten.
Let it out. Slow.
Deep breath. Slow.
She was all right.
If Mandy came, she would not be stupid. She would ask the right people the right questions. Eventually, she’d come here.
Mandy would find her.
Sean was so used to being her everything, best friend, lover, confidante. He’d not been sure of Mandy or their friendship. But she needed her. Sean kept things from her, and she kept things from him. They had learned the boundaries. Mandy had been a good friend.
But she’d been getting tired of keeping the secrets. She’d felt a void where her past should have been. Too many things she couldn’t share.
It had been a relief to get the note, to have contact from someone from the past, someone who might fill in the memory blanks from that night.
She’d been grasping at straws.
And now she’d never know.
What if she’d seen him and not the painting?
She’d been at another fork in the road and hadn’t realized.
The tenseness left her body. She shifted on the hard surface, moved her head so that the folded blanket provided a thicker pillow. She was hungry, but she could do without food. After it happened, when she was still a teenager, she’d done it all the time.
Jenna slept.
~ Chapter 25 ~
Mandy
Her sweaty hands were slick on the steering wheel of the rented SUV. She accelerated slowly through the turns and glanced frequently at the rearview mirror. The car traveling behind her stayed well back. After one particularly sharp hairpin curve, she saw the sign: Jandafar Hills Bed and Breakfast. Where Western Hospitality and Luxury Meet Good Food!
Mandy turned onto the road, and its all-weather surface crunched beneath the tires. When she rolled down her window, hot August air rushed inside. Insect sounds—grasshoppers and crickets—came in with the air. Mandy breathed deeply.
Native trees, oaks and elms, grew thick beside the road, groupings of smaller trees clustered between them. Sumac bushes had begun to change colors, adding red to the mostly green landscape. The open country, broken by green hills and granite outcroppings, evoked memories of vacationing with her aunt. Cicadas droned from the trees.
She and Aunt Grace had spent a full week at a cabin somewhere around here the summer she was 14. Grace had napped and read, leaving Mandy to wander the countryside and ride horses at the nearby stable. She remembered the pungent scent of horse sweat and the aching soreness of her inner thigh muscles after hours on a trail ride.
She hadn’t ridden a horse since that summer, and she and her aunt had never had the time to take a vacation together again.
The road curved and the trees thinned. She drove over a cattle guard and passed into an open meadow. Paddocks and barns spread off to the right of the road, and a large ranch house with a wide veranda on three sides sat at the end of the drive on the left. Straight ahead, a row of cabins perched on the wooded hillside.
A black and white border collie raced toward her, barking. The animal stopped and waited until she drew even, then ran beside the SUV as she continued up the road to the house.
In the seat beside her, Moby sat up and pressed his pink-brown nose to the passenger window.
She parked by the white gate in front of the ranch house. A sign near the veranda read Jandafar Hills. Welcome. The dog trotted to the gate and sat, ears pricked, waiting.
Mandy contemplated stepping out of the SUV, wondering how the collie would react to the energetic goldendoodle beside her.
A black-haired woman appeared on the front porch and waved. “Hello,” she called. “Come here, Doobie. Good boy.” The dog wagged its tail and looked from the woman to Mandy and back again before he trotted to the porch.
“Hi. Are you Mrs. Hardesty?” Mandy called as she scooted out of the SUV. “Wait, Moby.” The big dog’s tongue lolled out of his mouth, but he sat obediently in the passenger seat. He looked from her to the other dog, his body quivering.
“Yes.” The woman brushed a loose strand of hair off her face and came down the steps. The dog, Doobie, walked with her. “How can I help you?”
“My name is Mandy Lyons. Nancy in Medicine Park told me you might be hiring. I came out to see what Jandafar Hills was all about.” Mandy felt a twinge of guilt because of her lies, but the words slid out anyway. This lying was getting too easy. Why couldn’t she tell this woman why she was here? She doubted she had anything to fear from her.
Dale nodded. “Actually, I saw Nancy this morning, and she told me about you. I also heard you had an accident on the road. You doing all right?”
“I’m okay. My car wasn’t so lucky. I’m in a rental.” Mandy motioned at the Trail Blazer and rubbed her injured arm.
“I see Doug Champion set you up with his favorite. Not just anybody he’ll rent that one to. You must’ve impressed him.” Her blue eyes twinkled.
“It’s a lot nicer than my car. I’ll have to figure out how to pay the bill to get my car fixed.”
“Well, folks around here can be real neighborly. Don’t be afraid to ask for help, and chances are you’ll find someone who’s willing to offer it. My name is Dale, by the way. Why don’t you come inside, Mandy? You a coffee drinker? I’ll get you a cup and we’ll talk, see if I have any work you might be interested in. Nancy was right, I could use help.”
Mandy carefully followed her up the steps and into the house, limping. Dale Hardesty looked to be about forty, but she trudged along like a much older woman. Her skin was makeup-free, and her cheeks were dotted with freckles.
Doobie lay down by the door, his head on his paws.
Wide windows let air and light into the house. Potted plants positioned on tables and grouped on the floor near the windows gave the house the oxygen-rich scent of a greenhouse. Warm oak floors glistened, and the scattered area rugs looked like Navajo weaving, with bright colors and intricate patterns.
Dale plodded to the kitchen and motioned to the breakfast table by the bay window. The aroma of something cooking—beef stew? —hung in the air. Mandy slipped into a barrel-style chair and stared outside. Green hills stretched into the distance, broken by stands of trees, the ever-present granite boulders, and horses grazing. Lush green lawn hugged the house. Water tumbled in a nearby water feature, cascading over rocks into a pool. Leafy foliage and brightly colored flowers—impatiens, she thought—crowded the flower beds and gave the place a garden-like feel. Birds and butterflies flitted around the pool, and a rabbit hopped up to the water.
“I love this view,” Dale said as she set a cup of coffee in front of Mandy and sat down across from her with her own mug.
“I can see why. I wouldn’t ever get anything done if I had this view. It’s beautiful.”
“Yes, it is. We felt so lucky when we found this place. Did Nancy tell you it had been a dude ranch?”
“She did. Had the people who owned it closed the ranch, or was it still operating as a ranch when you bought it?” Mandy threw the question out nonchalantly. She didn’t want Dale to suspect her questions had a purpose other than conversation.
“A family operated it as a dude ranch for many years, but the ranch had closed. Another couple turned it into a B&B, but they wanted to retire. We came along at the right time and made them an offer. Everybody was happy. We only have a few horses now, and occasionally one of the hands takes visitors on trail rides. We don’t advertise that.”
“Those cabins on the hillside. That’s what you rent?”
“Yes. Three are big enough for families, will sleep up to eight. The other two sleep four. We also rent three bedrooms upstairs to couples. Each has an adjoining bath. There are more cabins, but we don’t rent those unless we’re hosting a retreat, or maybe a wedding.”
Had the cabin where the people died in the fire been rebuilt? The only way to find out was to ask the question. “Nancy told me there was a fire
in one of the cabins years ago.”
Dale sipped her coffee and looked out the window. The rabbit hopped across the lawn, stopping to graze as it moved. “The dude ranch closed not long after that fire.” Dale fingered her mug, tracing one finger around the rim. “Another accident occurred earlier that same day. A woman died on one of the trail rides. A tragedy. The owners had insurance, and there was a settlement even though they weren’t at fault.”
“The families of those who died sued the ranch?”
“The woman’s family did. Unfortunately, the couple that died in the fire didn’t have relatives. Their two daughters disappeared that same night.” She took a long swallow of coffee and rubbed her forehead with one finger.
Once again, the gooseflesh rose on Mandy’s neck. One of those girls had been Jenna, she was certain of it. “You wouldn’t happen to remember the name of that family, would you?”
“Why in the world would you want to know that?” Dale stared.
“Morbid curiosity, I guess. I have this thing about tragedies. I’m superstitious. My own parents died when I was young, and my aunt raised me.”
“I don’t know the name of the family. But there is a library in Lawton. They probably have newspaper files if you really want to know.”
Mandy pushed back in her chair. “I think what I want to know is what job you have open.”
Dale smiled. “It’s a combination job, a bit of secretary and a bit of maid. We’re headed into the offseason once we hit September, and my summer help has already gone back to college. The job includes room and board, which makes up for the pay. I’m afraid it isn’t much more than minimum wage. But you do have half of a duplex cabin for your own, across from the stables. The cowboys live in a nearby bunkhouse. Two of the men stay on year-round, and three cowboys are summer positions only.” She stood. “I’ll show you the living arrangements if you’d like. Then I need to make lunch.”
Mandy drained the rest of the coffee from her cup before following Dale to the back door and onto a rear deck. As Dale shut the door behind them, Doobie ran out, tail wagging. “Okay, you come with us,” Dale said to the dog.