Carol Cox (25 page)

T
he late afternoon sun slanted across the valley, highlighting the pinkish striations on the hills overlooking the Founders Day celebration. Clumps of Indian paintbrush and lupine dotted the meadow where the potato sack race was in full swing.

Melanie stood beside Caleb under the spreading branches of a sycamore tree watching Micah Rawlins and Andrew Bingham bound along ahead of the rest of the pack, matching each other hop for hop. The race looked like it would end in a tie until Andrew surged ahead in a burst of speed and tumbled across the finish line first. Flopping to the ground, he scrambled his way out of the sack and jumped back onto his feet, ready to offer good-natured condolences to Micah for coming in second.

Melanie joined in the general applause, trying to hide her restlessness. As promising as Caleb’s plan to study the crowd for signs of guilt had sounded, it had borne no fruit. They had scanned faces throughout the opening remarks
by Mayor Pike, the picnic that followed, and three heats of horse racing, where the local cowboys pitted their mounts against each other.

A baseball game had taken up much of the afternoon. Levi tired of watching before the first inning was over, and begged to be allowed to play with some of the local ranchers’ children. Pleased that he had children his own age to play with, Melanie encouraged Caleb to let him go, and the youngsters had spent several hours exploring the creek and darting in and out of the old storage caves in a game of hide-and-seek.

So now, with the festivities nearly ended and the sun hovering low in the western sky, Melanie felt the day had been a waste as far as their attempt at sleuthing was concerned. Other than enjoying the beautiful late spring weather and keeping Levi out of mischief, they hadn’t accomplished much.

She nudged Caleb with her elbow. “Have you seen anything you think will help us?”

Caleb answered without taking his focus off the crowd. “I hate to admit it, but I haven’t. I was so sure that if we kept our eyes open we’d be able to spot some clue that would point to the guilty party, but I haven’t seen a single thing worthy of note.” He let out a dry laugh. “Unless you count all the icy looks sent our way.”

Melanie nodded wearily. She had seen them, too, and that was part of the reason she and Caleb had taken shelter under the sycamore instead of joining the rest of the onlookers.

“Here you are!”

Melanie swung around to find Mrs. Fetterman bustling up behind them, holding a plate in her hands.

“I noticed you didn’t get any of my raspberry torte when you filled your plates, so I saved the last piece for you.” She held the plate up under Melanie’s nose. “I was going to save two pieces, but Wendell Trask beat me to it, so you’ll have to share.”

Melanie stared round-eyed at the slice of pastry, then sent a pleading look at Caleb. To her dismay, he only grinned.

“After you,” he said.

Traitor.
Unable to think of an excuse that wouldn’t hurt the dear woman’s feelings, she picked the cake up gingerly and took a tiny bite. Her eyes flared wide when the tangy flavor of sun-ripened raspberries exploded inside her mouth.

“Why . . . that’s scrumptious!” While Mrs. Fetterman beamed, she took another bite and closed her eyes in sheer pleasure. “I do believe that’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.”

Mrs. Fetterman chuckled. “I’m so pleased you think so. Now, be sure to share the rest.” With a merry wink, she walked away, leaving them alone again.

Melanie glared up at Caleb. “Did you know she could cook like that?”

Caleb burst out laughing. “It seems to me I told you she was a fine cook the day you arrived. You were the one who got worried about her mixing some of her patent remedies in with her food.” He eyed the rest of the slice in her hand. “You did hear her tell you to share that, didn’t you?”

Melanie pinched off a small morsel and handed it to him, then popped the rest into her mouth. “That’s all you deserve.”

Caleb raised his eyebrow when he took the tiny piece but didn’t offer a protest.

Melanie laughed and asked, “What’s supposed to happen
next? It’ll be getting dark soon. Is there anything we need to stay for?”

“I think all we have left is a closing speech by Mayor Pike.” Caleb gestured toward the edge of the meadow, where a handful of people were walking toward the bunting-draped dais.

Melanie made a face. “Do you want to stay and hear him speak?”

Caleb shook his head, looking as tired as Melanie felt. “I’ve heard about as much from the Pikes over the last few days as I want to.” He glanced toward the setting sun. “We might as well head home.”

“No, not yet!” Levi had run up just in time to hear Melanie’s question and his father’s answer. He stared up at them, hopping from one foot to the other and wringing his hands.

Caleb and Melanie stared down at the boy. “You want to stay and hear the mayor’s speech?” Caleb asked in an incredulous tone.

Levi bobbed his head up and down. “We have to stay, Papa. We
have
to!”

Caleb looked at Melanie. “What do you say?”

She gave a little laugh and shrugged. “I guess it won’t matter if we wait a little longer.”

They moved over to the clearing where the crowd now gathered, spreading blankets on the ground in anticipation of the mayor’s speech. They took up a position a few yards behind the group, at the edge of the light cast by lanterns strung between the trees.

Mayor Pike climbed up onto the speaker’s platform and struck a pose, gripping the lapels of his jacket with both hands. He seemed to puff up as he stared out at his attentive audience.

“I hope you’ve all had a wonderful time today as we’ve commemorated the founding of our fair community. Though Cedar Ridge may be young compared to the cities of the East, let me assure you, it’s going places. We have some of the best climate in the territory right here, and the possibilities are endless.”

Scattered cries of “Hear! Hear!” met his pronouncement.

The mayor’s chest puffed up even more. “I predict that with the increase in ranching and farming, and the new businesses moving in, our size will double in just a few short years.”

Beside Melanie, Caleb stirred and whispered, “Where’s Levi? I thought he was right here.”

“So did I.” Melanie swept her gaze over the lantern-lit area between them and the people sitting on their blankets. “I don’t see him anywhere.”

Mayor Pike went on, his voice building in a crescendo. “The folks in our territory’s capital, Prescott, are taking notice of us. Make no mistake about it, my friends, Cedar Ridge is fast becoming a rising star in—”

As if on cue, a ball of flame with a stream of sparks trailing off behind it arced over the assembly. Melanie and Caleb watched as the small fireball reached its apex directly above the speaker’s platform and broke apart, sending a shower of sparkling embers down over Mayor Pike and the crowd.

Shrieks rose as people leaped up off their blankets. Several of those nearest the platform, including Mayor Pike, beat the sparks from their clothes and stamped out the live embers before they could set the weeds and grass ablaze.

“Where did that come from?” Caleb demanded.

In the dimness behind them, a match flared, catching
Melanie’s attention. She pointed at the trees that lined the creek as another bundle of flame lofted skyward.

She clutched at Caleb’s arm. “What can that be?”

“I’m not sure, but I have my suspicions.” With a determined stride, he set off toward the creek bank with Melanie right behind him.

As they neared the water’s edge, they heard spurts of muffled laughter. Caleb stopped and put his hand on Melanie’s arm. “Shh. Let me get my bearings.”

Another spate of giggles burst out, followed by the sound of a match striking. Melanie focused on a spot a few yards in front of them, where the sudden glow illuminated the excited faces of Levi and one of the boys he’d been playing with earlier.

The other boy, taller and stouter, clung to the tip of an alder sapling, bending it toward the ground. “Hurry up,” he grunted. “I can’t hold it down much longer.”

Levi crouched beside his playmate. The tip of his tongue protruded from one corner of his mouth as he held the match under a small clump of something—Melanie couldn’t determine what it was—wedged into the alder’s top branches. “Hold on. It doesn’t want to light.”

“What’s going on?” Caleb’s voice boomed through the darkness.

Levi yelped and jumped back, dropping the match to the ground.

The other boy squealed and let go of the sapling.

The tree snapped upright, sending the small bundle flying in a wobbly arc overhead, then falling back to earth some distance from the young perpetrators.

Caleb strode over to the smoldering object. Melanie
glanced to make sure the fallen match had gone out on its own, then she spoke in her sternest governess voice: “Come here this instant—both of you.”

Levi and his companion slunk out of the undergrowth and joined Melanie at Caleb’s side. He knelt on the ground beside the smoking projectile, then glared up at the boys.

“Cattails?” He stood and kicked at the bundle. It dissolved in a spray of embers, which he stomped out with his boot.

The bigger boy stared down at the dirt and scuffed his toes. “Yes, sir.”

Even in the dim light, Melanie could see Levi’s chin quiver. “That was our fireworks. You spoiled it.”

Melanie caught her breath. “Fireworks?”

Levi nodded. “People kept wishing we could have fireworks, but Papa said the mayor wouldn’t spend the money to buy any. We were just trying to make Founders Day special.”

Caleb grunted. “You made it a night to remember, all right. Come on. You two have an apology to make.” He stooped to pick up a handful of the cattails the boys had piled on the ground, then led the way back to the speaker’s platform.

The cries of alarm had subsided by the time he marched the boys back to the scene of Mayor Pike’s interrupted speech. Most were still within the warm circle of light created by the lanterns, but they were on their feet shaking out their blankets, preparing to load their wagons and go home.

The mayor and his wife stood in the center of a circle of friends, accepting their commiserations for the way the day had ended. The people around them parted like the Red Sea as Caleb and Melanie escorted the boys to stand in front of the Pikes.

Mayor Pike stared down at the youngsters, then looked back up at Caleb. “What’s all this?”

Caleb nudged Levi. “Go on.”

Levi fixed his eyes on the middle button on Mayor Pike’s coat, avoiding eye contact. “We’re sorry.”

The mayor’s brows drew together.

Levi’s shoulders slumped. “We didn’t mean to mess up your speech with our fireworks.”

Mayor Pike drew back. “Fireworks?”

“Cattails,” Caleb explained. He held up the charred remains of the boys’ pyrotechnic efforts.

Muffled laughter rippled through the crowd.

The mayor’s face darkened. “What were you boys thinking? You could have injured people, or started a fire.”

A weather-beaten rancher stepped through the crowd and looked down at Levi’s companion. “Is this true, son? You had a part in this?”

The other boy’s lower lip protruded. “Yes, sir.”

Ophelia Pike wagged her finger toward the man’s face. “If that were my son, I would—”

“That’s all right, ma’am. I’ll take care of this.” The rancher turned, leading the boy away.

Mrs. Pike turned her wrath on Caleb. “I’m sure your son was at the bottom of this. It’s just the kind of thing I would expect of him.”

Caleb pressed his lips in a straight line. “We’ll be leaving, too. Good evening, Mrs. Pike.”

Melanie followed him as he strode from the lanterns’ glow and steered Levi toward their wagon. She concentrated on picking her way along in the moonlight without tripping over a rock.

Caleb slowed and pointed. “Isn’t that Doc up ahead of us?”

Melanie looked in the direction he indicated and nodded when she recognized the heavyset figure. “Yes, I believe it is.”

“Come on.” Caleb trotted off to catch up with the doctor, leaving Melanie to trail along behind with Levi.

“Doc Mills!” Caleb called. The older man looked over his shoulder and stopped to wait.

“I’ve been hoping for a chance to talk to you,” Caleb said. “Do you have a minute?”

Doc watched Melanie and Levi as they came up to join them, and he shrugged. “I suppose so. What do you need?”

Melanie wrinkled her nose at the whiff of stale liquor that drifted to her when he spoke.

“I wanted to ask you something, but first I’ll need to ask you to keep it to yourself.”

Doc nodded. “I’m a medical man. I’m good at keeping a confidence.”

“It’s all this talk about Charley Weber’s death maybe being due to murder, and not natural causes.”

The moon rose over the hills to the east, illuminating Doc’s solemn expression. “Go on.”

“It seemed odd to me that something like that could have happened, since no one—including you—apparently saw anything suspicious about his death at the time.”

Doc drew himself up, and his mouth tightened. “I know I have something of a reputation for imbibing a bit freely, but I can assure you—”