High Desert Detective, A Fiona Marlowe Mystery (Fiona Marlowe Mysteries) (6 page)

Jake shook his head. “The Sheriff can decide that.” He turned to
look at Fiona who had joined him. He could see the lively interest in her eyes.
He didn’t know what it was about a mysterious demise that so enticed the woman,
but she had that look on her face.

“We can ask the Sheriff if he’s missing anyone,” Fiona said,
warming to the subject.

Fred dug around with the shovel and gathered up floating pieces
of fabric. “It couldn’t have been an Indian burial,” he said. “They did above
ground platforms in the old days. Wow, it’s hot in here.” He waded out of the
water and started lining up pieces of fabric and bones on the bank in the sun.
Fiona moved in to have a look. Fred went back into the water and brought up a
shovel full of muck, and there on the end of it sat a human skull grinning at
them. He waded to the bank and deposited the find.

Jake had seen a lot of weird things in his life, but human bones
in a hot springs beat them all.

 
Dora saw what was
happening and joined them. “I wonder who that is. I don’t know anyone who’s
been missing in these parts.”

Caleb shook his head. “Doesn’t look like anyone I’d know, not
that I can tell much from bones. All my friends are accounted for. Anybody
could wear jeans and a shirt like that.”

Jake leaned on the shovel, looking at the bones. “The Sheriff
will send someone out here. He may come himself. Dora, is the little girl all
right?”

“She may have a broken leg. It needs to be X-rayed. I called
about the ambulance. Their injuries don’t appear life threatening so they won’t
send the helicopter. I’m concerned about head injuries. The father keeps
complaining about his head but I didn’t find any open wounds.”

“We’ll have to wait until they arrive,” Jake said. “Fiona, lend
me your phone. Mine’s in the truck. I want to call the Sheriff.”

She handed over the cell phone. “Does this happen very often? Didn’t
they just find that other skeleton in the desert?”

Jake nodded. “Yep. This makes two in a short period of time. Both
were skeletons before anyone found them, but that doesn’t mean they are related.”

He climbed the rise to find a signal and dialed Hoover’s direct
line. Nathan, one of the deputies, answered.

 
“It’s Jake. We’re at an
accident scene at the hot springs on the east side of the Steens. No deaths, no
apparent life threatening injuries. The ambulance is on the way. The car ended
up in the hot springs, and the Easton Brothers pulled it out, but the car
disturbed a buried human skeleton. We have skeleton parts drying in the sun.”

Jake answered Nathan’s questions. Hoover was in the Fields area,
not far in Harney Valley terms from where they were. Nathan said he’d contact
Hoover and not to leave the scene until he got there.

“Will do,” said Jake and closed the connection.

Fiona was already scouring the accident scene for clues and was
full of questions. He knew she’d already be formulating a theory about what
happened.

Caleb had a mobile ham radio in the truck. Jake went over and
listened to the police scanner.

“Do you hear that?” Caleb asked Jake. “That’s Hoover. He’s on his
way.
Might be here before the ambulance gets here.
I
sure hope Farley and Molly are going to be all right. I guess Zeke and I better
follow the ambulance.”

Hoover arrived and started taking statements from everyone. The
ambulance pulled in shortly thereafter.

Jake didn’t like how close Hoover was standing to Fiona or the
way he was smiling at her, but maybe that was his imagination. They had pulled
the accident car to the side of the road. The medics were loading Molly and her
father in the ambulance with Caleb and Zeke hovering over the operation. The
rest were looking at the bones.

“What do you make of this, Jake?” asked Hoover.

“Looks like foul play to me,” he said. He gave Hoover his side of
the story of the accident and finding the body.

Hoover shook his head. “It’s mighty strange that we find two
skeletons on the same side of the Steens so close together.”

“Are there any unsolved missing persons?” Fiona asked. Jake could
see she was dying to ask questions.

“Hank Little’s wives.
We’ll check the
files to find if there are any other unsolved disappearances. The bones might
not be from around here, so we’ll do a regional search, maybe further than
that.”

“I guess you’ll do forensic work on the bones,” Fiona said.

Hoover nodded and smiled. “Have you ever done any detective work,
Fiona?”

She smiled. “No, it’s not my line of work. I just like
mysteries.”

“You can help me solve a mystery anytime,” Hoover said.

Jake rolled his eyes. “Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?”

“It’s a wide open playing field, isn’t it?”

“Depends who’s calling the parameters of the field,” Jake said. “Are
you finished with us? We need to be getting back.”

Hoover smiled. “That’ll be all. I can handle it from here on. I’ll
stop by later to see if you’ve thought of anything else. Look forward to seeing
you again, Fiona.”

Jake tried not to scowl as he steered Fiona to his rig. This
woman was trouble. She could stir up male testosterone quicker than any woman
he had ever met. She sure touched his male hormones in a bad way, and that
could only mean trouble for him. Maybe he should take a break from ranching and
do a little rodeo-
ing
to calm down.

He banged the chain into the truck bed, helped Fiona into the
passenger side, and backed around. Dora and Fred tore off in the opposite
direction. The ambulance left ahead of them with Caleb and Zeke trailing
behind. The Sheriff stayed at the accident scene, guarding the bones.

It had been an eventful day, but one Jake didn’t want to repeat.
They never did get to the site of the skeleton in the desert. Now there was the
skeleton in the hot springs.

* * * * *

After the day’s events, Fiona was still keyed-up and wide awake.
She hoped she wasn’t going to be bothered by ghosts again. Jake had begged her
not to spend the night by herself. Opal had insisted she stay in one of the guest
bedrooms. But there was something about this old bunkhouse that she was
beginning to like. Besides she didn’t really believe in ghosts. Or at least she
didn’t think she did.

An odd thought occurred to her.

What if someone were trying to scare her off? Where did that
rogue thought come from? Why would anyone want this old bunk house?
 
Why would anyone want her to leave? Was there
something more valuable about her new acquisition than she knew? Maybe there
was buried treasure hidden underneath the bunk house. Now her imagination was
really going wild.
Easy, girl, easy.
Maybe there were
vast mineral deposits under this little rise where the bunk house stood. Maybe
it was oil.
Maybe gold.
She’d heard they mined gold to
the north of here. That was getting pretty far-fetched. But her brain was in overdrive,
and she was beginning to think there might be merit to the bizarre idea that
someone was trying to scare her off. She’d run it by Jake and Opal in the
morning.

Tomorrow she’d be back in familiar territory. The contractors
would start work on the bunk house. She relished the creative start of a new
project. It was like sculpture. She would re-work the walls, pick fabric for
curtains,
have
them made to her specifications, paint
the new walls in the amazing colors of the desert with a touch of bright
something, tear out the back wall and add a bedroom and sumptuous bath. It
would be so much fun, and it would be hers. The house in the country she had
always wanted.

But she was wide awake, and it was midnight. She had had a glass
of wine with Jake when they returned. Opal had put out leftovers and listened
with rapt interest to their recount of the day. She had had her own opinion about
the bones.

“There was a man came through here looking for work,” she said,
“must have been three or four years ago. It was the real dry year, you
remember, Jake?”

Jake shrugged. “I remember the last dry year. I don’t remember
any man.”

“Maybe you were away. Well, this man came up to the house, and I
answered the door. He spoke with an accent, but he wasn’t one of the Basque
people. You don’t see many Basque looking for ranch work anymore. No, he had a
foreign accent, reminded me of a Mexican. Maybe he was one of those fellows
from Peru that come to herd because he was looking for sheep work. I said I ran
cows but I gave him the names of a few of the sheep ranchers. He thanked me and
left and that was the last I heard of him. It might have been him. He might
have got lost over there in the East Steens.”

“This man wasn’t lost,” said Fiona. “He was buried in the bank by
the hot spring.”

Opal raised her eyebrows, and Jake said, “I agree. He had a sheet
or something wrapped around him.
 
That to
me means it was pre-meditated. Someone put him there.”

“Maybe this man who showed up was on the run, and someone was
looking for him,” said Fiona.

Opal said, “He didn’t look that type. I think I’m a pretty good
judge of people. He seemed very humble and sincere. Maybe he crossed the wrong
people or something. It would be worth asking the sheep ranchers I told him about.”

Jake shrugged.
“Maybe.
In any case you should
tell Hoover about him. He can talk to the ranchers in question. We don’t have
to worry about it. I got better things to do, like run a ranch. If you ladies
don’t mind, I’m calling it a day.”

Opal and Fiona had lingered at the kitchen table after Jake
turned in. “Why don’t you call up those sheep ranchers you mentioned,” Fiona
said.

“I could. You aren’t going to let this one be, are you, Fiona?”

She smiled. “I’m just curious. I mean, if you happen to run into
one of those ranchers or maybe have to talk to them, you could ask.”

Opal nodded. “I could do that.” She rose to leave then hesitated.
“Fiona, you have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to see how much Jake cares for
you. You’re not going to break his heart, are you?”

Fiona froze, taken off guard.
 
She cast her eyes around the room, trying not to make eye contact with Opal,
but she knew Opal would not relent. Truth was the only option. She finally met
Opal’s eyes. “I’m not sure how I feel. I like my freedom. He’s a big boy. He
can take care of himself.”

“Still, I worry about him. He’s sweet, and he’s been hurt bad before.”

* * * * *

Somehow she made it through the night without any ghosts bothering
her. The carpenter arrived late morning. He was going to insulate the walls, cover
them with dry wall, and paint. His name was Brewster, and he seemed decent
enough though a little odd. He was an artist who did house painting and
carpentry to support his artistic habit. His spiked blond hair and earring fit
the image. He was a creative type she could relate to, so they got on well and
spoke the same language. She got his life history in the bargain. He had
discovered Rocky Point several years ago.

“The town is a well kept secret,” Brewster said, “so don’t tell
anyone else. I like the place as it is. It has a nice little arts community,
and no one pays much attention to the place because it is a long way from
anywhere else. I like it just fine.”

“I won’t tell a soul,” Fiona said. “Let’s select the interior and
exterior colors of paint.”

That’s when they got into the argument. Brewster declared he had
an expert eye for color coordination and had even gone to school for it. Fiona
had, too, and considered
herself
a superb color expert.
She tried to keep an even temper and not lord over him her degree from the Rhode
Island School of Design. Dropping that name had not fazed him. The air got tense
over what color sage was, whether it had more green or more blue. He looked
like he was on the verge of walking out. This had never happened to Fiona. She
had always gotten on well with her contractors, although they could be
undependable, especially when it came to starting and finishing a job on time. She
studied the man.

“All right,” she said in the interest of keeping on good terms
with him. “We’ll go with your idea of more blue in the sage than green.”

“You won’t be disappointed. I know my colors,” he said.

“I’ll leave you to your measurements. You will start the walls today,
won’t you?”

“Now that you bring it up, I won’t be able to start until next
week.”

“You said you’d start today.”

“I said I’d start today if I got this other job done, and I’ve
run into some delays so I won’t be able to start your job till next week.”

“But surely you can take the measurements today and start
ordering materials.”

“That’d take a while. I’m meticulous, you see, and I got to get
back to this job in town at the new bed and breakfast.”

With that he rode off in a paint stained white van, leaving Fiona
a little steamed. She sank onto one of the old straight back chairs that
wobbled under her. This was not a good beginning. She checked the time. The electrician
and plumber were late.

She walked down to the ranch house to look for Opal. Maybe she
knew of some other workers who were more dependable.

“No, honey,” said Opal, “I can’t say I know a single dependable
contractor in this valley. You see, most of them are seasonal because they are
haying or irrigating or ranching or calving or lambing or whatever, and the
people they work for are, too. So it’s a little hard to keep on a schedule
because Nature calls the shots here.”

Fiona mulled that one over while she sipped a mug of industrial
strength coffee Opal had made.

“I’m going into town today,” said Opal. “Do you want to go with
me? Jake says I shouldn’t be driving anymore. Leastways, long distances.”