In the Shadow of Death (11 page)

“We'll go over to see Vivienne and Jerry this afternoon, of course,” Nordstrom answered. “Old friends,” he continued, turning to Maggie. “Have you met them?”

“Just Vivienne,” Maggie replied.

“Good people,” he replied. “Known them for years.” He looked over to Kate.“Why don't you and Maggie . . . ” His gaze came back to Maggie. “It's all right to call you Maggie, isn't it?” He carried on without an answer. “As I was saying, why don't we all go?”

“Oh, I don't think so . . . ,” Kate rushed in.

“Actually,” Maggie interrupted her, “I think that's a darn good idea. I'd love to see their ranch.”

“I'll phone them, then.” Nordstrom rose from the table. “Be good to see old Jerry again.”

“I really don't want to go,” Kate protested.

“Nonsense. Take you out of yourself,” he called back as he went into the house.

“But if Kate doesn't want to go . . .” Christine began hopefully.

Kate got up and cleared the table noisily while Christine sat grim-faced watching her. Jamie, who had hardly said a word through the whole meal, stared moodily at the lake.

What a happy bunch,
thought Maggie.

Vivienne was only too glad to see them. They had all squeezed into the Rover again and bumped over the dusty, potholed back road that led to the Shaking Aspen ranch. Their hostess was waiting at the door, and Christine immediately ran over and flung her arms around the woman. “Oh, Aunt Vivienne,” she sobbed, “it's just . . . just . . . so frightening. What could have happened to Daddy?”

Maggie, seeing Kate's tense face, slipped her arm around her as they watched Vivienne patting the girl's shaking shoulders.

“Yes, it's awful, pet,” Vivienne said. “Simply awful.” She unloosened the girl's arms and held them while looking intently into her eyes. “I'm sure Kate and the police are doing everything they can. I just know he'll show up.” She turned to Nordstrom and held out her arms. “Albert dear,” she said, in her husky voice. “It's been too long. And you too, Jamie. My, how you've grown.”

Kate and Maggie stood well back from the effusive welcome until Nordstrom said, “You've met Maggie Spencer.”

“Yes, Kate's friend,” Vivienne replied. “How nice of you to bring her.”

“She's an investigator,” he answered abruptly, “looking into Doug's disappearance.”

“Yes, she told me.” She looked Maggie up and down. “How is your investigation going?”

“Progressing,” Maggie answered.

When they entered the house, Maggie's eyes went immediately to the enormous stone fireplace with the requisite bear rug lying in front of it. This one, she was glad to see, was headless. The sliding door and window that overlooked the northern part of Wild Rose Lake was bereft of drapes, but coloured rugs of various textures were scattered on the highly polished wooden floors, giving a warm setting for the six cretonne-covered armchairs. The golden pine of a dining table, eight chairs and a massive sideboard at the far end of the room, all of which would have been overwhelming in any other setting, blended right into the decor.

“What a beautiful room,” Maggie breathed.

Vivienne acknowledged the compliment with a smile. “Come and meet my husband.” She led Maggie to where Albert Nordstrom was chatting with a man in a wheelchair. “Darling,” she drawled, “this is Maggie Spencer, a friend of Kate's, but she's actually a detective.”

Jerry Harkness must have been a big man at one time, but now his flesh hung loosely. Maggie looked into his pain-filled eyes as he lifted his hand to shake hers. “No,” he said gallantly, “you're much too pretty to be a detective. Here, sit down next to Albert, and tell me what you've been detecting.”

Nordstrom got up and indicated his seat. “I'll talk to the others.”

“I'm only a small cog in the agency,” Maggie explained as she sat down. Somehow she felt she could trust this man. “My boss, Nat Southby, is the real McCoy. I'm just the advance party to establish what's happened to Kate's husband. Any ideas?”

“'Fraid not, though I'm sure he didn't walk out on Kate.” He looked wistfully over at the girl, who was now talking to Nordstrom. “Wish I could help.”

“She's just learned about the Shadow Lake Mine disaster.”

“But that's history now. Who told her?”

“We discovered an old contract among Guthrie's papers.”

He was quiet for a moment. “That certainly was an unpleasant business,” he said eventually.

“Did you know Jack Chandler's out of jail?”

He looked startled. “No. When was this?”

“He was released about the same time that Guthrie disappeared.”

“And you're thinking that's too close to be a coincidence, aren't you? What are the cops doing about it?”

“They're beginning to take Kate seriously, especially since Sarazine was found murdered.”

“It wasn't an accident, then?”

Maggie shrugged. “Not unless he shot himself before plunging over the cliff.”

“Shot himself?”

“Yes. But the police are being very quiet about that part of it.”

“Does Kate know about Chandler's connection to the mine?” he asked.

Maggie nodded.

Jerry shook his head. “Doug should have told her. You see, they ran into financial trouble . . . that was about 1948, I think, just a year after Viv and I were married . . . and Viv wanted me to invest in that mine. Am I glad I didn't!”

“You mean, money-wise?”

“Yes. I'd have been in a hell of a fix financially, especially after my accident.”

“When did that happen?”

He shifted the upper part of his body in the chair and gazed at the lake. “About ten years ago,” he began. “I rode out early that morning to locate some strays. We have over three thousand acres, so you can understand that it took me quite some time to locate them. Anyway, I was on my way back in the early afternoon when one of those freak storms moved in.” He paused, as if to gather the strength to finish. “I was making for a stand of trees when there was a tremendous crack of thunder, and my horse bucked and sent me flying. You'd have thought old Warrior'd been stung by a swarm of bees.” His hands clenched the arms of the chair. “He'd never been spooked by a storm before. It was hours before they found me. My back was broken.”

“And the horse?”

“Vivienne had him put down right away,” he said sadly. “But it wasn't his fault.”

“What are you two talking about?” Nordstrom had wandered back to stand over Jerry's chair.

“He was telling me about his accident,” Maggie replied.

“Enough of that morbid stuff.” He moved behind Jerry's chair, shaking his head in disapproval at Maggie. “We're all going out onto the patio for some cold drinks.”

The glass-roofed patio stretched the whole length of the low house, and as Maggie settled into one of the white-painted basket chairs, Vivienne handed her a tall gin and tonic.

“Just on time,” Vivienne said, looking at her watch.

“What do you mean?” Maggie asked.

“There's often a short thunderstorm around this time of the afternoon,” she explained. “Terrific show. Something to do with all the lakes and mountains in the area. Jerry dear, do be careful.” She got up and dabbed roughly at his shirt with a linen napkin. “You're spilling it,” she said irritably.

Maggie found it quite exhilarating to watch the storm clouds move in over the lake, ruffling the calm waters into whitecaps that raced across the open stretches. A flock of ducks took off with the next loud rumble, their legs and feet trailing in the lake as they skimmed across the choppy water. The storm lasted no more than fifteen minutes, but the rain and hailstones hit the roof of the patio with such force that conversation was virtually impossible. Then, as quickly as the squall had moved in, it was over, and an eerie cry split the sudden silence. “What was that . . . ?” Maggie cried, startled.

“A loon. See, over there. A pair of them.” Jamie, who was sitting beside her, pointed to the birds. She watched in awe as the two long-necked birds took off, leaving a wake behind them. “They're making for that small island.”

“That's the unearthly sound I've been hearing just before dawn,” she exclaimed. “I wondered what it was.” She turned to look at Vivienne and Christine sitting close together, talking in low tones. Just beyond them, Nordstrom seemed to be describing something to Jerry, his hands moving dramatically as he explained some point. Maggie picked up her drink and wandered into the garden.

“So, what do you think of us?” The question had come from Jamie, who had followed her from the patio.

“Can Mr. Harkness walk at all?” she asked, evading the question.

“No. He's paralyzed from the waist down.” He paused while they both turned to watch the man in the wheelchair responding to Nordstrom. “He's a real nice guy, though. What a disaster!”

“This is a beautiful place,” Maggie said. “I shouldn't think they're short of money, either.”

“Yeah, this ranch brings in quite a bit,” Jamie answered. “And like Dad, Jerry's got himself a good manager. And I suspect,” he added, “he's done a fair amount of successful speculation in his time, because you can bet your boots Viv wouldn't have stayed around after the accident if there hadn't been plenty of money.”

“Christine seems to get on okay with her.”

Jamie scowled. “She's just sucking up to her to make Kate feel bad.” Suddenly, he turned and went back to the patio. “Hey guys,” he called. “What about us getting back?”

“Oh, must you?” Vivienne cried out. “I was hoping you'd stay for a barbeque. I thawed masses of steaks after Albert called.”

“I'd love to stay,” Christine said, smiling sweetly at Kate. “I'm sure someone would run Kate and Maggie back if they want to leave.”

“No one's going back,” Jerry said quietly and then turned to Kate. “How about you and Maggie giving me a hand with the salad while Vivienne and those honchos deal with the barbeque?”

It seemed no time before Jamie and Albert Nordstrom had the fire in the large, natural stone barbeque pit alight and were standing, drinks in hand, while they waited for the coals to glow. Vivienne, in the meantime, had set the picnic table with a red gingham cloth, cutlery and matching plates and cups. Maggie thought they were the best steaks she had ever eaten. Huge slabs of meat, cooked to perfection and served on individual wooden platters were accompanied by the green salad and hot corn on the cob. She realized that, for awhile at least, everyone was determined to forget the problem of Guthrie's disappearance and concentrate on enjoying the evening. Even Kate seemed relaxed a little as she sat chatting to Jamie.

After helping clear the table, Maggie and Kate sank back into the wicker armchairs on the patio and sipped their coffee in silence. Christine, who had been dogging Vivienne's footsteps ever since their arrival, had relaxed at last beside Jerry and her brother. “I'm going to sleep late in the morning,” she announced, stretching languidly.

“Where's Vivienne?” Kate asked. “She should be out here enjoying the sunset.”

“She and Albert went to look over her LPs. She's got a new hi-fi,” Jamie answered. As if on cue, strains of Glenn Miller's
Moonlight Serenade
came out to them.

“I have to find the bathroom,” Maggie said quietly to Kate.

“Next to the kitchen,” Kate answered. “Can't miss it.”

Maggie slipped through the kitchen and into a small hallway. The laundry and bathrooms were directly ahead, and to her right she could see into the living room, where Vivienne, dancing and swaying to the music, had her arms tightly around Nordstrom's shoulders, as he, cupping her firm buttocks closely toward him, nuzzled into her neck. They were so engrossed that neither of them saw Maggie as she slipped quietly into the bathroom.
My oh my! Vivienne and Albert!
It was obvious that Kate no longer had to worry about Vivienne's interest in Douglas Guthrie!

As they prepared to leave, Vivienne trailed behind them. “Thanks, Vivienne,” Maggie said. “It's been a wonderful visit.”

Vivienne nodded, then turned to Nordstrom and held his hand.“It's been such a long time, Albert. ” He bent and kissed her on the forehead and then waved to Jerry. “See ya around, pal.”

Back at the ranch, the five of them gathered in the living room before retiring for the night. “What are your plans for tomorrow?” Kate asked.

“We want to have a talk with Hendrix and see if there's anything we can do to help,” Jamie said, then added, “I think you should sit in too, Kate.”

“Oh, I don't want to interfere with how Hendrix is running the place,” Kate said nervously.

“All the same, you'd better sit in.”

“I'd like to borrow the Rover and go into Williams Lake,” Maggie said. “If that's okay?”

“Can I hitch a ride?” Christine said suddenly. “There's a few things I need.”

“I thought you wanted to talk to Hendrix? It was your idea,” Jamie exclaimed.

“No. You handle it. I'll go with Maggie.”

Maggie shrugged. “Sure. But I intend to go early. What about your sleep-in?”

“I'll make that Thursday.”

“Thursday?” Kate looked surprised.“I thought you were going back tomorrow.”

“No, we're staying till the weekend,” Christine said with a cat-like smile. “Didn't someone tell you?”

“I'll . . . I'll need extra supplies . . . ” Kate's face turned from its usual pale to downright waxen.

“Make a list, Kate,” Maggie cut in. “I'll get everything for you.”

“Will you, Maggie? Thanks.”

“What about you, Mr. Nordstrom?” Maggie said. “You planning a sleep-in too?”