High Desert Detective, A Fiona Marlowe Mystery (Fiona Marlowe Mysteries) (9 page)

“Not here. Everyone gets in on the action. Everyone has an opinion.
I guess it’s because there are so few people and everyone knows everybody else
and the lines of communication are word-of-mouth and that has worked here for
so long nobody thinks a thing of it. Someone throws out the odd clue, and it
helps solve the problem.”

“Life is sure different here. You have to get used to everyone
knowing everything about you and your life. In the city people don’t even know
their next door neighbor.”

“You aren’t going to leave, are you?”

Fiona looked at him. “Leave? I just got here. Besides, there’s a
mystery or two to be solved.
How about another glass of wine?”

* * * * *

Fiona awoke early the next morning to someone banging on the door
of the bunkhouse. This was getting to be a regular occurrence. Obviously, no
one slept late in these parts.
 
Her first
thought was that the ghost must be back. But the banging came again and someone
said, “Is anybody home?”

She didn’t know many ghosts that spoke. She sighed and padded to
the door. She hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep since she got here.

“Who is it?” she said to the unknown assailant outside.

“Mack, the electrician.”

“You were supposed to come yesterday,” she said back through the
door. “It’s hardly light outside.”

“I got held up. I’m here now so do you want me to start work or
don’t you?”

“Just a minute.”

Fiona dragged on a pair of black tights and a big T-shirt, which
Jake had given her, that had written across the front,
This Is Not My First Rodeo
.

She opened the door to see a standard issue rancher type replete
with standard beat-up, sweat-stained cowboy hat and standard scuffed up boots.
He didn’t look like an electrician.

“Sorry about not calling you. We had an emergency. An irrigation
motor blew a transformer, and half the valley was without electricity, so that
came before you. I had to get the irrigation motor back up and running.”

 
She sighed. “Come in. I’ll
make coffee.”

“Thanks. I could use some.”

Fiona held the door open, and he entered, looking around.

“This old place hasn’t changed much.”

“Have you been here before?” she asked, as she put water on to
boil on the propane burner.

“Yes, ma’am.
Used to help Opal with
calving, and she’d put us up here in bad weather. More like sleeping outside.
The wood stove could never keep up with a cold wind in February, but at least
we were out of the elements.”

Fiona leaned against the sink. “I’ve wondered if I should tear the
place down and start over again. But it has character. I’d like to preserve
that, and I need electricity to do it.”

“Where’s the pole?”

“What pole?”

“That’ll bring the electricity up here so I can connect it.”

Fiona frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that.” Why hadn’t she thought
of that? Did she think the magic fairy was going to wave a wand? “Who do I call
to get a pole?”

“The power company.
You got to get on
their list.
Might be several thousand dollars.”

“Several thousand dollars?
Isn’t that
rather steep?”

“I don’t set the prices. Come outside and let me show you
something.”

Mack led her out to the stony front yard and pointed.

“See that pole and the wires that go into Opal’s house? You need
a connection to that line. They’ll need to run a separate line up here. That’s
the only way I know to get electricity up here. After they do that, then I can
do the inside electric work.”

“Wow,” said Fiona. She couldn’t think of anything else to say. “I
guess I better call the power company.”

“Yes, ma’am.
If you tell me where you
want the outlets and switches, I’ll get started.”

“Right.
I have a diagram on my computer.
I’ll print it out later. For right now, I’ll give you an idea of what I want
done.”

“Are you the general contractor on this job?”

“You might say. They taught me that in design school.”

“I’m impressed. Let’s get to work.”

After she helped Mack start the project, she put on running shoes
and walked down to Opal’s house to use her computer to print out the wiring
diagram. She wasn’t in a running mood. Besides, her running shoes were in name
only. She was in time for breakfast. Jake was sitting at the table finishing
his.

He looked her over and grinned. “Like the outfit.”

“Thanks. It’s a big hit with buckaroos,” she said. “Where’s Opal?”

“She left early to help move cows.”

“The woman is amazing.”

“She is. You can’t tell her to slow down. She won’t listen. Have
some breakfast. I can scramble you some eggs. Bacon is in the warming oven.”

“Fine.
I need to print the wiring
diagram for the bunkhouse. Can I use the computer and printer?”

“You bet. It’s in the back office.”

When she got back to the kitchen, breakfast was on the table, and
Sheriff Hoover was sitting eating a plate of bacon, eggs and biscuits.

“Just the lady I want to see,” he said, smiling around a mouthful
of breakfast. “Nice outfit.”

“It’s a big hit with buckaroos,” she said and sat down across
from him. Jake slid a plate of perfectly scrambled eggs and several slices of bacon
before her. Man could cook like he
did,
she might have
to keep around. She helped herself to biscuits.

Jake positioned himself beside her with a mug of coffee.

“What’s up?” she said to Hoover, as she started in on the heaping
plate before her.

“I’m glad I got you both in the same place,” he said. “I need to
know when you pulled the car out of the hot springs, how long did it take the
bones to surface.”

Fiona looked at Jake and shrugged.
“Right away.
There was no time lapse that I remember.”

“Fiona pointed it out to me. I didn’t actually see it come up,”
said Jake. “Why do you ask?”

“We got a little problem of too many bones. The diver found more
bones at the bottom of the springs after he was in and dug around a little. But
these bones don’t fit the scene.”

“Were they weighted down?”

“No, funny thing is they weren’t. But they were heavy and weird
looking. They don’t look human to me. They were sort of stuck in the muck. Now
we’re going to have to figure out why there were more bones at the site.”

“Were there any footprints around the spring that weren’t ours?”
asked Fiona.

“We’re trying to sort out all the footprints. Good point, Fiona.
That’s another reason I’ve come. I need to see the boots you were wearing that
day, so we can compare what we found.”

Jake said, “You’re welcome to mine, if you can stand the smell.
They’re pretty sorry looking.”

“I’ll get mine up at the bunk house and bring them back. They are
the cowgirl boots that pinch. I remember them well.”

* * * * *

A lone rider made his way across the ridge, steering his cow pony
to stay behind the taller greasewood and rocks. He was looking for the herd he
had seen south of here yesterday. He was sweating a river, and the sun was
hardly up over the eastern horizon. But it wasn’t the heat that was bothering
him. He didn’t want anyone to see him. This section was isolated, but you never
knew. He could always say he’d lost a calf, if anyone questioned him. Of
course, his not being from around here might raise suspicion but he could
always say he was working for someone.

He jumped at every little break of a twig or
skitter
of rock. He came up over a rise and reined in his horse. The valley stretched
out forever below. There they were.
The prettiest little herd
that you’d ever want to see.
The one the boss had sent him to find.
The herd that had prime Angus cattle that would sell real well in
the open cattle market.
Now all he had to do was to find the road the
boss said came in from the east.
Probably not a road,
probably a goat path.
But that was the only way they had to bring in the
trailer that would take away a few of these pretty cows and calves. It would be
a night time operation. They’d set up a few temporary panels for a corral,
drive the critters in, load them up, and leave. No one would be any the wiser
till fall round up.
Like taking candy from a kid.

* * * * *

Jake still worried that Fiona was going to leave. He tried to think
of something that would entice her to stay. He worried that things would get too
much for her, too many problems, too many weird people, too many new things.
This was not Washington, D.C. where she was at home, and he wasn’t. Maybe it
would be better if she left. She didn’t seem to be interested in him, and he
could understand why. He wasn’t that interesting a guy. She could have her
pick, a woman like that. City and country didn’t mix. Who was he trying to kid?

But he couldn’t stay away from her. So he strode up the knoll to
the bunkhouse to see what she and Mack were up to. He looked in the open door.
They were studying a piece of paper. She was pointing to different spots on the
wall, and he was nodding. She sure looked good in those tights. This was the
first time he had seen so much leg.
Easy, boy.
He knew
every other man felt the same way. He could see it in the way they looked at
her. Hoover was no exception, and he wondered how much he was investigating the
bones that brought him here and how much was getting another glimpse of Fiona.
Needing their boots seemed like a pretty lame excuse.

Jake greeted Mack who he knew to be a decent electrician, if a
little on the slow side.

Fiona came over. “He says he can’t start work today. He needs to
get some parts in town. I’m not sure when the plumber will come. I called and
left messages but he seems to have disappeared.”

She looked so forlorn Jake used it as an excuse to put his arm
around her shoulder. “Rome wasn’t built in a day. I have to ride out to the
south pasture. Why don’t you ride along?”

“In a truck?”

“On a horse.”

“Me? Ride a horse? I haven’t been on one since I was a kid.”

“I can trailer the horses to the end of the good road, and we can
ride the rest of the way. It’s not far. We could go in on ATVs but the terrain’s
a little rough. It’s better on horseback and prettier.”

Fiona frowned like she was thinking it over. “Well, maybe.”

“We got a real sweet tempered little mare named Harriet. Give ‘
er
a try.”

* * * * *

Fiona sat on a soft pillow on her cot till the wee hours of the
morning. Her muscles ached from her uneventful introduction to Harriet, but she
was brimming with ideas for the bunk house and wanted to get them down in
charts and diagrams before she forgot. The colors and vistas she saw on the
ride today took her breath away. They were perfect combinations for her new
home. The rustic look she was developing was exciting. The weathered boards of
the outside of the bunkhouse some people would pay a fortune for. She’d have
them sanded and stained and polished to a soft patina. She wanted to use glass
bricks for one side of the bathroom to let in the amazing light of the high desert.
The front porch would be peeled juniper logs. She knew just the person she’d
track down for that. She had seen an article in a local magazine about a man
who was a juniper artist.

Harriet was a sweet horse. Jake had been encouraging. They’d had
to lead Harriet to a rock so she could mount. It was only a short ride into the
section of the valley that he wanted to show her. They kept a herd of Angus
cows and calves in an isolated valley ripe with early summer grass and fed by a
small meandering stream. It was a place of dreams but difficult to access.

She was glad the ride was short. Harriet probably was too, though
she was extremely patient. There was something romantic about the whole adventure.
About being in the saddle with big sky overhead, sun streaming, cows calling to
their calves, Jake explaining what she was seeing. She knew he had a huge crush
on her but she didn’t know if she liked him enough to call this place home and
stay and see what would become of their relationship. But she was enjoying his
attentions. He was thoughtful and
kind,
and she
wondered if he would always be like that or if the shiny silver of their being
together would tarnish when he realized how much of a city girl she was and
what a lousy homemaker. She sensed that was what Jake wanted.
A home and a woman to run it.
That didn’t sound like Fiona
Marlowe.

Lost in thought and the exciting designs for the bunkhouse, she
didn’t hear the scratching noise. She realized the sound must have been in her
consciousness for a while, but she had ignored it. Something was scratching at
the door. Tonight there was no wind just the stars that she could see through
the unshaded windows. There was no moaning this time, only the scratching
followed by a thud. Was it the sound of a heeled boot on the dilapidated porch?
Fiona pulled her robe tighter and looked through the windows. She saw nothing
but stars. She had hoped the ghost had taken off to haunt some other more promising
habitat, but apparently he, she or it was back.

She turned off the small desk lamp she had positioned on the
straight back chair by her bed and listened. She really needed to get some
drapes but that was one of the last things done in a remodel after all the dust
had settled from contractors tearing things up and putting them back together.

She waited, listening, not sure what to do.
 
Maybe it was some desert animal making its
rounds for the night. Quietly, she re-arranged the bed clothing so she could
lie down. Every muscle in her body ached. Maybe if she ignored whatever was out
there it would go away like the last time.