Deadly Currents (14 page)

The crowd clapped and hooted.

Mandy giggled. Which of Rob’s rafting guides had the gumption to dress in drag? They were still too far away for her to make out Elena’s face.

When the raft approached the play hole, Rob tossed the sword aside and hunkered down with a paddle to help his partner. The two slid expertly into the hole and spun the raft a few times. Then they high-sided the raft, slipping one edge under the foaming water while sitting on the high side to keep it from flipping. They slid off to one side of the rapid, let the raft settle onto its bottom, then spun it end-on to the play hole and started paddling toward the center.

“They’re going to attempt an end-o!” Mandy yelled to David.

Zorro-Rob and his mock-Elena stood on the upstream end of the raft. They dipped the upstream end under the water while pulling on ropes on either side of the raft to lift the downstream end. It rose, flashing the bottom of the raft to the crowd lining the banks and bridge, until the raft was almost vertical. The raft danced on its tail in the water to the cheers of the crowd. The two men expertly held it in place and upright with one hand each and made small paddle corrections in the water with their other hands.

They could only hold the position for a few seconds, though, until the bottom of the raft came crashing down onto the water, taking both paddlers with it. The false Elena bounced off the raft and into the river. While splashing back to the raft and climbing in, he lost his wig. The black mass undulated in the current like a multi-tentacled octopus.

Mandy recognized the ropy, matted dreadlocks peeking out from underneath the man’s helmet. She grabbed David’s arm. “It’s Gonzo! Elena is Gonzo.”

David laughed then put two fingers in his mouth and let out a loud wolf whistle in Gonzo’s direction.

Gonzo looked up at the bridge, spied Mandy and David waving at him, grinned and waved back. He shouted at Rob, who had gotten back on his feet and was flourishing his cape and bowing to the crowd along the bank as the raft floated by. The two men looked up at the bridge as they slid under.

Mandy leaned over to wave at Rob.

Her Zorro tore off his mask and threw her a theatrical kiss, but his eyes conveyed a different message—confusion and a question.

_____

While Mandy drove home, she reviewed the conversation she’d had with David when he walked her to her car. He said the only way they could keep Uncle Bill’s business afloat was to run at full capacity all summer, which was impossible with the cancellations and blown raft. Too exhausted to brainstorm solutions, Mandy had said she wanted to sleep on it.

David had said he would drink on it, this being his last night in town. They could talk more in the morning before he returned to Colorado Springs to put out some fires at work. He promised to return for Uncle Bill’s memorial service on Monday.

When he had asked if she would be all right by herself until then, she’d said, “There you go again,” and he backed off, but not before Mandy saw the hurt look on his face. Was she being too hard on both Rob and David? Should she just give up on Uncle Bill’s legacy

No, I’m not ready to do that yet.

When she pulled the Subaru into the drive, Lucky went bonkers and started barking and jumping up against the chain-link fence. That wasn’t normal. Mandy opened the gate to let the dog out into the front yard. When she went in the front door, Lucky pushed past her then ran into the kitchen and ran back, barking continuously.

Mandy followed the frantic dog into the kitchen and turned on the light. Broken glass lay scattered on the sink, counter, and floor. The Venetian blinds over the sink window slapped against the sill.

What the hell?

Mandy stepped back into the living room. “Here, Lucky!”

The dog ran to her, and Mandy checked his paws, one by one. No cuts, yet. She commanded Lucky to sit, then stepped into the kitchen and slid the pocket door between it and the living room shut to keep the dog away from the glass fragments. Lucky immediately started barking from the other side.

“Hush! It’s not safe for you in here.”

The barking subsided to a whine and snuffles at the door crack.

After stepping carefully over the glass, Mandy pulled up the blinds. Her window glass was gone, except for a few shards. A big hole was punched out of the screen. Mandy searched the kitchen. She spied a large rock under the kitchen table, with a white piece of paper rubber-banded to it.

She leaned down, keeping her knees off the floor, and picked up the rock. She yanked the paper free and spread it out on the kitchen table. Words cut out of the newspaper had been glued to it. They read, “Keep your nose out of the Tom King business or else!”

Or else what?
Heart pounding, Mandy checked the kitchen door. Locked.

She walked to the pocket door, took off her shoes in case some glass had gotten embedded in the soles, and pushed past Lucky’s inquisitive nose. She locked the front door and returned to the kitchen, closing the pocket door in Lucky’s face again.

She put her shoes back on, grabbed the broom leaning in the corner and started sweeping. Nothing like action to drive away some of the panic. But as she worked, she kept glancing at the note.

Everyone she had talked to lately about Tom King had ended up angry at her or suspicious of her motives. She reviewed her conversations over the past few days with Lenny Preble at the Salida Riverside Park, Jeff King at the Pine Creek Boater X, Nate Fowler at the FIBArk Kickoff, and Evie Olson at the Final Touch Day Spa. They all had potential motives for killing Tom King. None of them had liked her probing questions. And Paula King had yelled at Mandy at her husband’s memorial service.

Was one of them upset enough to throw the rock through Mandy’s window? Was the rock thrower Tom King’s killer? Or could this message have come from someone else? Someone Mandy hadn’t talked to yet, but who heard she’d been asking questions.

She swept the glass into the dustpan and dumped it in the trashcan. Then she checked the bottoms of her shoes. Lastly, she wet a paper towel and wiped the floor to pick up any remaining small fragments. With the floor clean and safe for Lucky’s paws, Mandy opened the pocket door.

Lucky pushed in and shoved his head under Mandy’s hand, begging for petting, for assurance that everything was all right. While staring at Mandy, the dog’s eyebrows worked back and forth, a sign he was worried.

With good reason.
After calming Lucky with a good rubbing behind the ears, Mandy washed her hands, then unscrewed the cover of her peanut butter jar, dipped her finger in and sucked on a gob of comfort food. It didn’t give her much comfort tonight, though.

If someone was threatened by or angry at her enough to throw a rock through her kitchen window, what would they do next? Or would they wait to see what she would do next?

She looked at the window. The glass shards were still there. She stood.

Taking this action to mean they would be going for a walk, Lucky went to fetch his leash.

But Mandy had no desire to leave the relative safety of her home for the streets. Not when the willies were still sending shivers down her back.

“Sorry, Lucky. I’ve got to get the rest of that glass out of the window. You’ll just have to do your business in the yard.”

She flipped on the back porch light and peered outside, searching the yard for movement. Nothing. But that didn’t stop her from continuing to look for a few more minutes.

Lucky finally scratched at her sneakers.

“Okay, okay.” Mandy’s hand shook as she reached for the doorknob.

Drinking nature is an unquenchable thirst.
—
Berri Clove

Mandy drove to her
uncle’s place. Friday was her day off from river rangering, but with a business to run, it wasn’t going to be a day of rest. She would be working nonstop through the summer. And last night hadn’t been very restful either. Even with Lucky beside her in the bedroom, she hadn’t felt safe until she heard her brother let himself in.

He hadn’t arrived until well past midnight, so she didn’t have the heart to wake him before she left. She tip-toed out, leaving him sprawled and snoring on the couch. She left a note on the kitchen table asking him to call or stop by the business before he headed back to Colorado Springs.

She glanced at the passenger seat of her Subaru, where she had tossed the threatening message from last night’s rock. She would have to get her window replaced today. And she would have to face Detective Quintana. And when she told him, she would have to admit to her conversations with the suspects.

Which would reveal she’d done exactly the opposite of what he had told her to do.

After she parked in her uncle’s lot, she checked her watch. Customers for the morning trip would be arriving in half an hour. No time to call Quintana now. It would have to wait until after she ran the morning shuttle.

Kendra and Dougie were moving around the equipment yard, loading three rafts and handfuls of paddles onto the top of the bus. This was a good sign—the first time in days that they had booked more than a vanload of rafters. But where was the third guide?

Mandy joined them, shielding her eyes from the glaring rays of the morning sun. Though strong enough to make her squint, the sunbeams hadn’t cut through the morning chill yet. Dew still clung to the grass and to equipment which had been left outside overnight. “Who’s the third guide?”

Kendra hesitated and glanced at Dougie. “Gonzo.”

“Where is he? He should have been here half an hour ago.”

Dougie shrugged and Kendra bit her lip.

Mandy pulled out her cell phone, feeling a tension headache coming on. “I’ll call him.”

Just as she finished dialing his cell phone number, Gonzo’s car pulled into the parking lot. It screeched to a bouncing halt beside Mandy’s. He stepped out, slammed the door, and took a step toward them. Losing his balance, he put a hand on the back of Mandy’s car to right himself, then leaned into a sweeping bow, as if trying to cover up his stumble.

“Queen Elena at your service.” A giggle burbled out of his lips before he could assume a straight face and stiff posture.

Mandy snapped her phone shut and pocketed it. A fit of giggles wasn’t what was burbling up in her gut. She waited while Gonzo stepped carefully toward her. “You’re late.”

“Hey, after the night I had, I’m lucky I’m here at all.” He put a hand to his head. “Woo, I don’t know how many beers people bought me. I’ll have to dress up as a girl more often.”

He started laughing, but when no one joined in, his laughter died out. “Seriously, Mandy, you missed a hell of a party at the Vic. Your brother sure enjoyed himself. Everyone was asking him where you were.”

As Gonzo spoke, stale beer fumes wafted toward Mandy. She studied his bloodshot eyes, his unsteady feet, and his shaky hands.
Had Uncle Bill had to handle this before with Gonzo?

“You’re still drunk, aren’t you?”

“Nah,” Gonzo overshot his wave of dismissal and spun around. “I musta gotten at least three hour’s sleep this morning. I’m raring to go.” He snorted and rubbed his hands together. “Ready, brave Knight Dougie? Lovely Princess Kendra?”

When Dougie and Kendra just stood there looking at him, Gonzo put his hands on his hips. “Party poopers. I guess I’ll have to keep these tourists entertained all by myself.”

Dougie and Kendra’s reaction bolstered Mandy’s confidence. They didn’t appreciate Gonzo’s behavior any more than she did. She certainly couldn’t allow him to lead customers through dangerous whitewater.

“No, you won’t. You’re not working today.” Mandy turned to Kendra. “You got Ajax’s cell phone number?”

When Mandy pulled out her phone, Gonzo grabbed her arm. “Hey, I’m here. And I’m ready to work.”

“I’m not entrusting the safety of our customers to you in this state, Gonzo. Go sleep it off.” She shook her arm in an effort to release his grasp, acting more sure of herself than she felt.

Gonzo’s fingers dug in deeper. “But I have to work today. I’m broke.”

Mandy knew how close he was to abject poverty. Most of the seasonal rafting guides barely scraped by on the low pay and erratic hours. They were so addicted to the highs from running whitewater that they put up with sleeping in tents and eating peanut butter on saltine crackers so they could be on the river.

But she had a business to run. She couldn’t let Gonzo see how much she sympathized with his predicament. Her mouth in a firm line, Mandy pried his fingers loose and pushed his hand off her arm. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves.

“You should have thought of that before you drank all those free beers. Consider this a warning, Gonzo. You show up here for work drunk again, I’ll have to take you off the payroll.”

Gonzo’s face turned dark. His fists balled up. “You can’t talk to me like that. I’m one of the best guides on the Arkansas. I can show up at any outfitter’s, including your buddy Rob’s, and they’d hire me in a heartbeat.”

“Go ahead and try,” Mandy said. “They won’t put a drunken guide in charge of a raft either.”

“Screw you. I don’t deserve this grief. I quit.” Gonzo stomped to his car.

Mandy started after him. “Gonzo, wait. Don’t drive like this.”

He refused to look at her as he started the engine and peeled out of the parking lot, his spinning wheels spouting gravel.

Kendra came up to stand by Mandy. “You think he’ll be safe on the road?”

“At this point, I don’t care.” Mandy rubbed her throbbing head. “Sorry, I do care, but I’m so mad at Gonzo I could spit fire. I wish he hadn’t put me in that position. I hated having to tell him off.”

“He deserved it this time.” Kendra handed Mandy her cell phone. “Ajax’s number is on the screen. Just press the call button.”

Mandy called the guide’s number and explained the situation to him.

“Gee, Mandy, I sympathize,” he said, “but I can’t make it in until the afternoon trip. I’m in Buena Vista now, and I don’t have my car. I’m waiting for a friend to come pick me up.”

Probably went home with some girl last night.
“I understand,” Mandy replied. “But I could really use you this afternoon.”

“I’ll be there.”

Frustrated and with time running out, Mandy opened the back of her station wagon. She pulled out the extra helmet and set of paddling clothes she always kept in there. “I’ll be the third guide this morning.”

The first carload of tourists drove into the parking lot, waving in giddy excitement at the solemn threesome.

“Who’ll run shuttle?” Dougie asked.

“I’ll have to call and wake David and ask him to do it before he goes home.”

And she would have to come up with some explanation for the customers as to why the trip was leaving late. And put off her conversation with David about Uncle Bill’s business again.

The way things were going, the problem would solve itself. There wouldn’t be any business left.

_____

After running the shuttle for the afternoon rafting trip, Mandy’s arms were sore from guiding the morning trip, but her mood was much improved. Spending a morning creating fun for others had lifted her spirits. She decided it was too nice a day to eat lunch inside. When she got home, she called Cynthia to invite her to an impromptu picnic at the water park. She whistled a jaunty tune while fixing PBJ sandwiches.

Mandy hadn’t realized how much she missed guiding trips since she’d started the river ranger job—the thrill of lining up a raft for a perfect roller-coaster ride along a train of standing waves, breaking though the initial shyness of the tourists to get them to open up about themselves and open their minds to relaxing on the river, catching the bright rays of their smiles when it finally happened.

The best part was the camaraderie with the other guides. Mandy smiled, remembering the goofball things they did to make the experience memorable for the customers—starting water fights with the other rafts, the dumbest joke competition on one of the slow sections, leading a cheer fest during the return bus ride, and slipping in a gentle reminder that rafting guides lived on tips.

After tossing the sandwiches and some diet Pepsis in a small cooler, Mandy loaded Lucky into her Subaru. The poor dog had been cooped up too much at home while Mandy split her time between her river ranger duties and the rafting company. And after last night’s scare, Lucky probably could use some happy excitement too.

Mandy drove into town, fingers drumming on the steering wheel in accompaniment to her favorite Pink CD,
M!ssundaztood
. She commanded Lucky to heel as they walked to the river. The dog practically danced at her side, panting with excitement and sniffing at everyone they passed. But he only broke his heel once to leave a sprinkle message on a nearby tree and alert other dogs to his presence.

When they reached the river bank, Mandy found a shady spot upriver of the main play hole in the whitewater park. It wasn’t the perfect location for viewing the antics of the kayaks competing in the freestyle preliminaries, but it was close and out of the blazing midday sun. She sat on the grass and unwrapped a sandwich.

A Steller’s jay, its dark blue plumage and crest glistening, swooped down and landed on the grass. It cocked its head to scan the ground around her for crumbs.

Lucky was well-acquainted with the smell of peanut butter. When he came begging and chased off his competition, she broke off a piece of her sandwich to give to him. She never failed to be amused by the frantic licking that resulted while he tried to scrape the sticky treat off the roof of his mouth.

“Are you feeding that dog peanut butter again?” Cynthia tossed a large bag of potato chips on the ground, sat on the grass next to Mandy and leaned back on her elbows. She reached into the cooler for a sandwich and took a bite. “Not bad. What kind of jelly is this?”

“Blackberry. Rob’s mom made it.”

And it might be the last jar she would get from Rob’s mom, given the state of her relationship with him. To cover up the flash of sadness she felt, Mandy took a big bite and stared at a kayaker surfing a standing wave.

Cynthia didn’t seem to notice, however. “Okay, it’s not Monday, but here’s one for you. How do you make a blonde laugh on Monday?”

“I haven’t the foggiest.”

“Tell her a joke on Friday.” She glanced at Mandy’s sad expression. “Sorry, stupid choice. You weren’t laughing at anything on Monday, were you?”

Mandy gave the rest of her sandwich to Lucky and hugged her knees. “No, I wasn’t. But thanks for trying to cheer me up.”

“How could you not cheer up on a day like today?” Cynthia waved her hand in the direction of the river. “Perfect weather and a perfect spot by the river for enjoying it.”

A kayaker executed a flawless pivot around a gate pole, his boat making a graceful turn, as if dancing with the pole as partner. The kayaker shouted out a “whoop” that expressed more about the sheer pleasure of playing with the water than about scoring in the race.

Mandy smiled, remembering feeling the same way that morning. “Could you live somewhere without a river?”

“Never,” Cynthia said vehemently.

“Me, neither.” Mandy knew she’d wither up and die like a neglected houseplant if she couldn’t soak up the energy of the moving water and the myriad plants and wildlife it sustained.

Cynthia ripped open the potato chip bag. “Hey, I’ve got news about Paula King. Apparently, she and Tom King were attempting a reconciliation before he was killed. A neighbor of theirs spotted Tom carrying suitcases back into the house a few nights before the rafting trip.”

Mandy nodded. “That jives with what Evie Olson and her friend Shirley Logan said at the beauty parlor.” She summarized the conversation. “It sounds like Evie had more of a motive to kill Tom King than Paula did.”

“Unless the reconciliation didn’t work.” Cynthia eyed Mandy’s nails. “You sure didn’t get my money’s worth out of that manicure.”