Deadly Currents (11 page)

“You know me. Love to talk business.” David filled two bowls and passed one to her.

Impatient, Mandy asked, “And did Rob recommend a manager?”

“He said he might have a buyer for us, if we’re interested in selling.”

“I’m not interested in selling.”

David blew on a spoonful of stew. then chewed on it slowly. “This stuff’s not bad. Not good, either, but not bad.”

“Did you hear me?”

“Yes, I did. And this guy Rob seems to have you pegged pretty well. He said you’d say that, and that I should talk to you before we went any further with the idea.”

Mandy pushed her bowl away. After a few bites, she suddenly couldn’t stomach the stew anymore. Suspicion was leaving a foul taste in her mouth. Suspicion that David and Rob had talked about more than this ridiculous idea of selling the business. Like how to handle her. And she didn’t want to be handled.

“Well, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“We don’t have to talk about it tonight.,” David said. “I can see you’re bushed, but we’ll need to talk soon. In the meantime, we’ve got to start planning Uncle Bill’s memorial service.”

Mandy’s eyes teared up.

David covered her hand with his and gave a gentle squeeze. “I know this won’t be easy, but I’m sure you want his life honored in the right way.”

He pushed a lined pad of paper and a pen toward her. He had written across the top, “Memorial Program.”

_____

Mandy spent Wednesday morning sweating and grunting at a self-defense class in the parking lot of the ranger station. Only the full-time head rangers were certified to carry weapons. The seasonal land and river rangers had to rely on the self-preservation techniques taught in the annual class when their diplomacy skills and status as law enforcement officers weren’t enough to calm down agitated tourists.

During her lunch break, Mandy rushed over to the Final Touch Day Spa for her manicure appointment. The unassuming red brick building sat behind the Super Bowl Lanes facing Highway 50. On the window by the front door was a drawing of a woman’s graceful hand holding a flower. When Mandy walked in the door, a wind chime tinkled in the breeze, announcing her presence. A white jarred candle glowing on the reception desk scented the room with vanilla, though it didn’t completely mask the underlying chemical odors of hair coloring and nail polish.

Mandy signed in and refused the receptionist’s offer of coffee or chamomile tea. She sat on the edge of a waiting chair and scanned the labels on an arrangement of colorful hair and skin care products and aromatherapy jars on the shelves across from her.
What is clear glossing gel used for? And what the heck is ylang ylang?
Just as she was about to grab a jar and take a sniff, a manicurist with spiky black hair and heels to match sashayed out and called her name.

The manicurist led her past the large pedicure chairs with their foot tubs to one of the three manicure stations in an airy, open room lit by plate glass windows facing west toward the highway and Methodist Mountain. Mandy mentally compared the young woman’s chic black capri pants and green silk lingerie top to her own smudged and wrinkled shorts and T-shirt. Trying to smooth her T-shirt, Mandy wished she had changed clothes before coming to the spa, but it was too late now.

She spotted Evie Olson seated at the left station, wearing a yellow and pink print flowing skirt and a sleeveless pink top. Her wooden bracelets and necklace clattered as she tossed a hank of her unruly hair over her shoulder and leaned over to say something to her friend on her right. A woman brought them Styrofoam cups of tea, which they grasped gingerly with outspread fingers, their nails bright with drying polish.

The manicurist steered Mandy to a chair at the station behind Evie’s friend and settled onto a stool across the white tabletop from Mandy. “You getting dolled up for a special event or treating yourself?”

Great opening.
“I’m going to the FIBArk kickoff tonight.”

“Oh, just like these two.” The manicurist nodded toward Evie and her friend, who turned their heads.

Mandy leaned out to look around the manicurist at the two women. “Since we’ll be at the same party, maybe I should introduce myself. I’m Amanda.”

“I’m Shirley Logan,” the friend said, “and this is my friend, Evie Olson.”

“Nice to meet you both.”

“What color polish do you want?” the manicurist asked.

“I have no idea.” Mandy turned to Shirley. “Any suggestions?”

Evie examined the color of her own orange-pink nail polish at arm’s length and seemed to approve. “What’re you wearing?”

Mandy only had one dress in her closet, a little black number that Uncle Bill had paid for when she ‘walked’ for her associate’s degree at Colorado Mountain College in Buena Vista. Before her eyes could start watering, she pushed the memory to the back of her mind.

“A short black dress,” she answered.

A discussion ensued between Evie, Shirley and the manicurist about which was the best color for the combination of the black dress, Mandy’s blond hair, and her green eyes. Intimidated, Mandy just listened.

“What color are your accessories?” Shirley asked.

“Ac-cessories?” Mandy stammered. She hadn’t given a thought to anything but the dress.

“You know, shoes, purse, jewelry. Are you wearing something in your hair?”

This getting gussied-up is too damn hard.
“I have a pair of black pumps and a black purse, but I hadn’t thought about jewelry or anything else.” She remembered her graduation gift from her brother. “Oh, I do have a gold chain necklace and hoop earrings to match.”

“Gold and black,” Evie said. “And are you going with a special someone?”

Mandy blushed and nodded.

“Okay, you should choose red, cherry red, and buy a lipstick to match.”

The manicurist pulled out a bottle of polish and a tube of lipstick in a bright red color to show Mandy.

Mandy had never put such a bright color on her lips before. Usually, she just wore lip balm, to prevent chapping when she was out on the river. She only owned one tube of lipstick, a pale, pink color for when she hung out at Victoria Tavern. But she wanted to get on Evie’s good side, so she nodded.

The manicurist reached for Mandy’s hands and tsked over how short her nails were.

“If they were any longer, I’d break them off at work.” Mandy was about to say what she did for work, but decided she shouldn’t reveal that to Evie yet. “Just do the best you can.”

While the manicurist filed Mandy’s stubby nails, Mandy decided that since Evie had broached the subject of dates, her next question shouldn’t be too suspiciously forward. “You two going to the kickoff with anyone?”

“My boring husband,” Shirley answered. “Who will probably find a couple of equally boring husbands to talk football with. I swear if I hear another word about the Denver Broncos, I’m going to stampede out the door myself.”

“I don’t have anyone to go with now,” Evie said with a sniff.

Shirley tsked. “Don’t say that. You’re coming with Mike and me. If he goes off to talk sports, we’ll prowl the room and scout up some new prospects for you. You’re too attractive to be without a man for long.”

Mandy leaned forward. “Did you just break up with someone?”

Shirley put her empty tea cup down. “The guy she was dating just passed away, poor thing.” She pointed her chin at Evie.

“Oh, I guess condolences are in order,” Mandy said. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Evie harrumphed. “I’d already lost him before he died. The bastard broke up with me a few days before, went back to his wife.” She put her empty cup on the side table next to her.

Feigning ignorance, Mandy asked. “So he was separated?”

Evie pursed her lips in disgust. “Yeah, the turncoat said he was divorcing his wife, but he moved back in with her three days before he died. I’ll never forgive him for lying to me.” Evie’s voice went soft and sentimental. “Even though he’s dead now.”

Is she faking?
“Wow, you sure got a raw deal out of that relationship.”

“I agree, what a bummer.” The manicurist shook her head and started applying the first coat of polish to Mandy’s nails.

Mandy almost winced at the bright red color.

“Bummer indeed,” Shirley said. “So who’re you going with, Amanda?”

Focusing on the implication that Paula likely no longer had a motive to kill her husband since she had accepted him back into her house, Mandy replied without thinking, “Rob Juarez.”

“Rob Juarez?” Evie’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I know him. Are you Mandy Tanner?”

Caught, Mandy could do nothing but nod.

Shirley stared wide-eyed at Mandy. “You’re the one who pulled Tom King out of the Arkansas.”

“Yes, I’m afraid so.”

Shirley glanced at Evie, her mouth pursed in a small “oh.”

“And you come in here all sweet and innocent and pretend you don’t know I was seeing him.” Evie’s tone was laced with hostility. “That was a dirty trick to pull.”

Even the manicurist was frowning at Mandy now.

Mandy had to lie and lie good. She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you know right away who I was and that I knew who you were,” she said to Evie. “I didn’t think it would come up. And I do have a legitimate reason to be here. I really am going to the kickoff tonight and my nails looked terrible.”

“That’s for sure,” the manicurist said.

“But you egged me on with your questions. Why are you so curious about Tom King’s love life?”

Mandy feigned a casual shrug. “I feel a connection of some sort with him, I guess. Wish I could have saved him.”

“How could you if he was poisoned?” Shirley asked.

“I didn’t know that when I pulled him out of the river, and we still don’t know who poisoned him.”

The manicurist gasped and looked pointedly at Evie.

Evie stood and draped a large upholstery purse over her shoulder. “C’mon, Shirley. I don’t like this snoopy ranger’s questions.” She glared down her nose at Mandy. “It’s like she thinks I killed him.”

_____

Before going in the ranger station, Mandy used a tissue to wipe off all traces of the garish red lipstick the manicurist had liberally applied to her lips. She hid her nails in her fists while she went to her cubicle to check for messages. Rob had called while she was out.

She returned his call, knowing he would be running a shuttle soon for an afternoon trip, if he wasn’t on the road already. When he answered, she could hear road noise and people talking in the background.

“I can’t talk long, Mandy. I’ll be in a dead zone soon. But I called to check if you still wanted to go to the kickoff tonight, what with your uncle and all. I’ll understand if you back out, you know, and—”

“Yes, I’m still going.” Rob was rambling, uncomfortable talking to her because of where they had left things, but Mandy wasn’t going to bail him out—yet. Not when he wasn’t in kissing range. “I’ll be ready at five.”

“I’m glad. I’ll see you then.” Static broke up what he said next. “—the canyon—losing signal.” The line went dead.

Steve appeared in her doorway. “Time for class to resume. Whoa, what’s with the nails?”

Two seasonal rangers appeared behind him. One shielded his eyes. “I’ll need shades to protect my eyes from those flashers.”

The other one grinned. “Red paint isn’t going to give you any kind of advantage. You’re still going to end up on the mat all afternoon.”

“Oh, shut up.” Mandy stalked outside to the sounds of snickers behind her. She assumed a belligerent stance on the far side of the mats lining the parking lot and shot her best combat glare at the other rangers assembled there. “First one who says something about my nails gets a fist in the gut.”

Ships are but boards, sailors but men: there be land-rats
and water-rats, land-thieves and water-thieves.

—
The Merchant Of Venice
, Act I, Scene Iii,
William Shakespeare

Mandy stood in the
shower with the water turned up as hot as she could tolerate. She could wash off the sweat from the self-defense class, but not the humiliation. She’d lost focus during the class, rehashing Evie’s news, plans for her uncle’s service, and what she might say to Rob to make up with him. So, she had been tossed to the mat all afternoon. Fighting back tears of frustration, she had gritted her teeth harder and harder through the afternoon until her head was pounding.

During a break, she had gone inside her office and searched in her desk drawer for aspirin. Finding none, she slumped in her chair with her eyes closed and rubbed her head. Steve found her there and offered her some of his own aspirin. Then he sat down and gave her a pep talk, saying it was understandable she was having a bad day. After all, her uncle had just died.

Mandy wasn’t sure how much she could believe Steve’s assurances that she was turning into a good river ranger, one he could count on. She sure felt inadequate now.

She stepped out of the shower and grabbed her towel. Two of her fancy-painted nails had broken, and polish was chipped off most of the rest. She would have taken off the polish, but she didn’t have any remover in the house. And she couldn’t send David out to get some. He had already left to grab a bite to eat in town before meeting her and Rob at the kickoff. He claimed he needed more sustenance than the itty-bitty snacks served at such events.

She was zipping her dress when the doorbell rang, sending Lucky racing out of the bedroom to bark and slobber at the door. Mandy slipped on her shoes and followed the dog. She opened the door and sucked in her breath.

Rob stood on the stoop with his wavy hair slicked back, his face clean shaven, and wearing a clean white dress shirt, a blue tie, and a shy smile. He looked good enough to eat, and she was hungry.

He opened the screen door and put out a hand to prevent Lucky from jumping on his dress pants. “Wow, Mandy, you doll up nice.”

“I could say the same about you.” She reached out a tentative hand to caress the crisp cotton fabric covering his chest. “Nice shirt.”

He gently kneed the dog aside, stepped up to Mandy and ran his fingertips down the back of her dress. They burned a trail of fire through the fabric. “I missed you,
mi querida
. I hate you being mad at me. Can we kiss and make up?”

Her legs turning to pudding, Mandy said, “We’ve got some talking to do first.”

“Kiss first. Then we talk.” He bent his head.

She leaned into him and gave him a long, lingering kiss. She forgot all about why she had been mad at him, what he’d done wrong, because right now he was doing everything right. His hands roamed up and down her back, stoking the fire they had started.

When he lifted his head, she breathed in his musky cologne and put her arms around him to pull him to her again. She gave herself, and her lips, up to him. They kissed hungrily, with mouths open and tongues lashing, until they were both panting with desire. She felt him harden against her.

“Forget about the kickoff.” His voice rasped with hoarseness. “I’ll dance with you right here and now.”

Lucky took that moment to snort in doggy-disgust and pad off to the kitchen. He started barking and clawing at the back door.

That was enough to break the spell for Mandy and clear her head. “Lucky, stop!”

The barking just got more frantic.

Rob grinned down at her. “Your dog obeys real well.”

“Oh, hush. He must sense something’s wrong out there. I’d better check.” Reluctantly, she slid out of Rob’s arms.

With a groan of frustration, he followed her into the kitchen.

Mandy tugged on Lucky’s collar to pull the dog away from the back door and keep him from adding more scratches to its already marred surface. “What’re you going on about?”

Rob sniffed the breeze coming in from the cracked-open window over the sink. “A skunk.”

Mandy caught a whiff of the pungent animal. “No way am I letting you outside to get sprayed,” she said to Lucky. “Please close the window, Rob.”

He cranked it shut, but the smell was still strong. “Must be right outside. I’ll chase it off.” Rob put a hand on the doorknob, and Lucky strained against his collar.

“No, don’t,” Mandy shouted over Lucky’s barks while she struggled with the dog. “What if it sprays you?”

But Rob was already outside. Lucky tugged Mandy to the open doorway. The stench was even worse outside. Rob went around the corner of the house toward the kitchen window, clapping his hands.

A dark shape with a white stripe down its back bounded across the yard.

Lucky leapt in the air, jerking Mandy off her feet. She landed on her knees, but managed to keep a hand on the dog’s collar.

Rob rounded the corner. “Problem gone.” When he saw her, he rushed to her aid, taking hold of Lucky’s collar and lifting Mandy to her feet.

She checked her legs. Her hose were ripped, and the scab had come off the old scrape on her knee and was oozing blood. “Great. Now I have to change my stockings.” She strode back inside.

Rob dragged Lucky inside and closed the door. “Can I watch?”

Mandy laughed, then glanced at the oven clock. “Sorry. We need to go, Rob. We’re almost a half hour late already. Could you get Lucky settled down while I change?”

He dropped his hold on the dog and put his arms around her. “Can’t we pick up where we left off?”

“We’ve both got businesses to represent at this function. You know we need to be there. And showing up late is no way to give a good impression.”

He rested his chin on top of her head and took a deep breath, then pulled away and looked at her. “You’re right, of course, but I’m taking a rain check that I plan to redeem as soon as I bring you back home.”

“It’ll be my pleasure.” Mandy gave him a saucy wink before she headed back into the bedroom.

While she yanked off her torn hose and cleaned and bandaged her knee, Rob locked her back door and rummaged in the dog biscuit bag. Lucky’s tail thumped loudly against the linoleum floor until his jaws snapped shut on what must have been a tossed biscuit.

Mandy tugged on a new pair of hose, yanked down her skirt, and slipped on her shoes. While she transferred items from her fanny pack to her black purse, Rob came back and leaned against the doorjamb, his appreciative gaze still making her pulse race.

He cleared his throat. “I want to apologize for what an idiot I was Monday, mistaking your brother for
…
you know.”

Mandy smiled at him. “A rival?”

“Yeah. Can’t help wanting you all to myself,
mi querida
.”

A flush of pleasure that she meant so much to him was soon followed by a tinge of annoyance at the tone of his comment, like she was a possession that no one was allowed to borrow. But she buried the annoyance quickly. She didn’t want anything to spoil this evening.

Rob folded his arms across his chest. “He called me yesterday, though, and we talked for a good long while. He seems like an okay guy.”

“He’d better be. He’s my brother.” Mandy shouldered her purse. “What did you two talk about?”

“You, of course.” He held out his hand. “C’mon, you’re the one who doesn’t want to be late.”

She grabbed her jacket and followed him out the door. They crunched across the driveway, Mandy teetering on her heels in the uneven gravel, to Rob’s truck. While he drove to the Salida Steamplant, the old electrical power plant that had been converted into a performing arts center, her anxiety rose. Being this late, they’d never find a close parking spot, and walking from a far one would make them even later. She’d have to plunge right into networking.

“Who should I make sure I talk to?” she asked Rob.

He started naming all the owner-representatives of the different rafting outfitter businesses. While she listened, a small voice in the back of her head kept saying she and Rob had unfinished business of their own to settle.

Rob cruised slowly on Sackett Street past the tall red brick building squatting on the banks of the Arkansas River in downtown Salida. They both hunted for a parking spot on either side of the road. Everything was taken, including all the spots in the ranger station lot across the street.

Mandy finally located a spot three blocks west and Rob parked the truck. Trotting as fast as she could to the Steamplant, she stumbled in the unfamiliar high heels.

Rob caught her, tucked her arm in his, and pulled her close. “Slow down. Being another couple of minutes late won’t make a difference. You don’t want to rip another pair of stockings.”

“And this is the last unripped pair I have.”

Rob slowed their pace. “A lot of people are going to want to say something to you about Bill. He was well liked, and folks are going to miss him. Can you handle that?”

Mandy hadn’t realized she would need to spend the evening talking about her dead uncle. “I—I don’t know. I hope so.”

“I’ll try to stay close, and your brother will be here, too, right?”

“Yeah. But he’s no better at this stuff than I am.” They had reached the wooden steps up to the front door, and Mandy hesitated.

With his hand on the doorknob, Rob waited.

She took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s go.”

Rob opened the door. The loud buzz of conversations filled the lobby, along with a crush of people. Everyone else seemed to have arrived ages ago.

Mandy spotted glasses in many hands. She decided a drink would be a good idea, give her some courage. “Let’s find the bar,” she shouted over the noise to Rob.

He nodded, looked around the room, and steered her toward a corner bar on the left. A chime sounded three times, signaling that people should take their seats. Suddenly Mandy and Rob were trying to swim upstream against the current of people flowing into the theater.

Rob stopped and turned to Mandy. “Can you wait? If we don’t go in now, we won’t get seats.”

“I guess I can wait.” Mandy followed him into the theater and down the aisle until he located a couple of seats.

After she sat, an older woman on her left patted her hand and leaned toward her. “Sorry to hear about your uncle, honey.”

Suddenly choked up, Mandy nodded and mumbled her thanks.

Rob gave her other hand a squeeze. “Courage,” he whispered.

Thankfully, the emcee called for attention, and the lights dimmed. For the next hour, the FIBArk race competitors were introduced, the Board and Commodore of the event were honored, and a long list of volunteers were thanked. Finally, when Mandy thought her hands would fall off from clapping so often, the program ended. People streamed into the party room next to the theater to dance, drink, eat, and most importantly, since this was a Chamber of Commerce event, to network.

Mandy’s stomach rumbled, and she still needed that drink. She grabbed a plateful of cheese, crackers, and veggies, and stood in a corner munching while Rob swam through the crowd toward the bar.

She spotted Detective Quintana nearby and approached him. “Hello, Detective.”

“Hello, Mandy. Call me Vic. I’m off duty.”

Instead of his Chaffee County Sheriff’s uniform, he was dressed in jeans and a Western shirt. “So you are.”

“Hey, let me offer my condolences. I was real sorry to hear about your uncle. He was a good man.”

Mandy looked at her plate. “Yeah, thanks.” She inched a piece of cheese onto a cracker, but decided against eating it. She would have to get rid of that lump in her throat first. “Any news on the King case?”

Quintana peered at her. “Still obsessing about that?”

Mandy blushed. “Not obsessing. Just interested.”

“Uh-huh.” Quintana looked around,then drew her away from the crowd, against the wall. “We found out that Lenny Preble brought a case of sports drink bottles and a few dozen donuts to the launch area and passed them out to the trip participants.”

“Is that why you came by my uncle’s place?”

Quintana nodded. “We collected all the trash from the trip and scoured the vans and rafts. We found the poison in one of the bottles.”