Peril by Ponytail (A Bad Hair Day Mystery) (8 page)

Could Dalton have entered the staff’s private enclave? She peeked inside a long hallway with saddles and riding helmets hung on the walls. It was open at the far end.

Wondering if he’d be around back, she crunched along the gravel at the building’s side. Horses ranged inside the corral there, and she saw a wrangler whom she hadn’t met, but her husband’s tall figure was nowhere in sight.

Great, now what? Maybe Dalton had taken a different route to the Jail House Saloon. She spied a dirt path leading in that direction. It passed the tennis courts on one side and the rear of the reception hall on the other. The hum of an air-conditioning unit and an occasional horse whinny broke the stillness as she headed that way.

It was pleasant out with the temperature reaching eighty. A maintenance guy strode past, identified by his logo baseball cap and the large radio hooked on his belt. They nodded greetings to each other. Bird twitters and a trickling fountain tempted her to explore a nearby butterfly garden, but she’d spotted two figures up ahead beside a pine tree in a secluded nook. A black horse was tied nearby.

As she neared, she observed a familiar figure, but it wasn’t Dalton. Their conversation reached her as she trod closer, careful to keep her presence hidden. Sure enough, the bearded man was Jesse, the wrangler.

“Raymond can’t blame the Donovans for everything,” the other guy said. He had a lean frame and a height over six feet. From what she could see of his face under his hat, she’d place him in his thirties. “We’re not responsible. When are you going to step in and show your hand?”

“I need more information first. Did you talk to the old man?”

“You know how he feels about things. Why don’t you pay him a visit?”

“It’s not a good idea.”

“That’s what you always say. If you keep playing this game, you’ll get exposed.”

“I’ll take that risk. Once I have proof, I’ll come out in the open.”

Were they discussing Hugh Donovan? What did that other guy mean by saying,
we’re not responsible
? Did he come from their ranch? What was Jesse doing talking to someone from there, anyway? And what kind of proof did he need?

She moved off before they could spot her and ducked in between two buildings toward the main path. Lost in thought, she almost collided with Dalton coming the opposite way.

“Here you are.” She grasped his arm. “I was looking for you.”

“The receptionist was in a chatty mood when I went to sign us up for morning activities. I got delayed. Let’s head for the bar. I could use a drink, and I have news to share.”

He held the saloon door open for her. “Do you want to sit inside or out on the terrace?” A covered patio held tables and chairs with a lovely view of the mountains. Other guests had already claimed seats there.

“Let’s stay indoors. We can talk in that quiet corner by the fireplace.”

She waited until they got seated and ordered their drinks. Meanwhile, she scanned the Indian paintings on the walls, the billiards table in another corner, the mannequin of a Mexican in a sombrero sitting in a chair, and the family with three kids who were the only other occupants. Country music played in the background.

The smell of popcorn drifted from a machine near the entrance. It was free to guests, but she’d rather wait for dinner. However, she did dip her fingers into the carafe of spicy snack mix the bartender brought along with their drinks.

She related the conversation she’d overheard between Jesse and the other guy.

“So you think he’s colluding with someone from the Donovan ranch?” Dalton said, gripping his ale glass. A brooding expression crossed his face.

Marla took a sip of Chardonnay. “That’s how it sounded. Clearly there’s more to Jesse than meets the eye. Maybe his name is as false as his hair color.”

“I’ll see if I can get Wayne to tell me more about him.”

“You might not have to bother.” She signaled the lady bartender. “Hi, can you answer a few questions for me? I have a lesson tomorrow with Jesse Parker. Do you know him?”

The brunette’s eyes twinkled. “Sure do. He’s a hunk, but don’t tell him I said so.”

“How long has he been working here?” she asked, even though she knew the answer.

“Five years, I believe. The guy knows his business, better than some of the older wranglers. He must have been brought up on a ranch.”

“You think so? Where is he from, Patty?” Marla had read the girl’s name tag.

“Dunno. He doesn’t talk much about himself, but I imagine he put that info on his job application. He’s qualified to teach you, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Where does the fellow live?” Dalton picked out a few cashews from the carafe. “I gather most of the employees don’t reside on the ranch.”

“Most of us live in town.” Patty sank into an empty seat at their table. “You might want to ask Juanita. He’s sweet on her.”

“Oh? I thought it was the other way around.” Marla watched for her reaction.

“Jesse tries not to show it, but you can see how they feel about each other whenever they sneak a moment together. I notice things from the patio.”

“Did you spot him out there earlier talking to a stranger?”

“Sorry, I was busy getting the bar set up for the evening.”

Realizing this discussion was a dead end, Marla tried another tack. Dalton seemed content to let her take the lead. “Some people are saying this place is jinxed, like the ghost town up the mountain. Have you had any unusual incidents in the saloon?”

Her lips pursed. “Huh. I came in one morning, and a keg had emptied all over the floor. I guess you can count that as unusual. I figured I’d left the spigot open by mistake, but I always double check everything before closing each evening.”

“Were the doors locked when you came to work?”

“Yes, they were. Why, do you think somebody may have broken in here and opened the keg? But then they must have used a key.”

Dalton gave Marla an oblique glance. “Don’t your maintenance men have master keys to use in case of emergencies?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“So if there’s a saboteur around, he could get in anywhere,” Marla concluded, not liking the implications. So far the incidents had been merely mischievous. What would happen if things escalated? And what was the guy’s purpose—to chase guests away or to annoy the staff?

“Did you hear about the flood in the dining room? Something similar happened, only it was a water heater valve that opened seemingly by itself,” Dalton informed Patty. “Do you think someone might be causing trouble on purpose?”

As more customers entered, Patty rose. “Don’t ask me. I haven’t got a clue.”

“Thanks for talking to us,” Marla called as she strode away to seat the newcomers.

“It seems as though someone is methodically going around and causing mischief,” Dalton remarked, popping more nuts into his mouth.

“If you’re counting the ghost town, I wouldn’t call our near-miss in the theatre a minor incident. We could have been seriously hurt.”

“You’re right. Janice the receptionist said there hasn’t been anyone new on the ranch staff in the past year. People like working here and hang onto their jobs. And everyone seems to like Wayne and Carol, so a personal grudge against one of them appears unlikely.”

“Raymond owns both properties. It’s more likely he’s the target. Do you think he’s right in blaming the other rancher?”

“Didn’t you just overhear Jesse saying the Donovans aren’t at fault?”

“How would Jesse know, unless he has reason to suspect someone else? Anyway, I’m basing my theories on supposition. And how does Raymond’s relationship to the dead forest ranger fit into this picture?”

“Those are all valid questions.”

Then how about this one,
Marla thought but didn’t voice aloud.
Why hasn’t your uncle once mentioned your mother, Kate? What happened between them that he wouldn’t attend our wedding?

Solving crimes was easier than getting on a horse, Marla discovered early Tuesday morning at her first riding lesson. Dalton had taken off at seven-fifteen for the breakfast ride, leaving her to enjoy the buffet alone until her nine o’clock engagement. She hadn’t realized so many choices in horsemanship were offered to guests. Loping, walking, and intermediate rides or lessons were available as well as grooming fundamentals and team penning.

Wearing jeans, sneakers, and a long-sleeved top for the chillier morning air, she entered the door marked Riders Entrance and took a seat until a wrangler came to get her. Inside, the air-conditioning unit hummed as she waited with several other victims who seemed to know each other and stood around in clusters. She sat wringing her hands and wishing she’d signed up for a massage instead. She’d only agreed to this activity so she could start accompanying Dalton on the gentler rides.

“Don’t you have a pony for me?” she asked the wrangler who’d summoned her. She had been fabricating when she’d told the bartender her lesson was with Jesse. This guy’s name was Tom Mallory. Outside, she eyed the brown creature he’d selected with trepidation, while other horses snorted and whinnied in the corral. “This horse is too spirited.”

“Nah, you’ll do fine. Candy is real gentle. Put on this helmet and then place your foot right here.” He showed her how to get on the horse.

Marla mounted with his assistance and sat there, wondering what she should do next. Tom explained the different parts of the saddle and some basic horse lore. Then he led her around the corral while she grew accustomed to her seat. It took a while to get the hang of pressing in with her thighs as he taught her. She suspected she’d be sore after being locked into this position. Muscles that she didn’t normally use were getting a workout.

By the end of the hour, she was able to trot around the fenced enclosure if not with ease, at least with more confidence. She could probably handle a walking ride but needed more lessons to feel comfortable going faster.

“How long have you been working here?” she asked Tom during one of their rounds. She patted the horse, pleased with Candy’s tolerance of her mistakes. The horse nickered in response, as though approving of her awkward efforts.

“I’ve been here nearly seventeen years now. Hard to believe it’s been that long.” He stroked his grizzled jaw, squinting under his cowboy hat as he walked beside her horse, letting her handle the reins.

“Have you seen many changes in that time?” She glanced at the mountains in the distance from behind her sunglasses. Saguaro cacti dotted the landscape like aged sentinels on guard.

“Sure have, ma’am. Raymond brought us into the technical age and raised our visibility on the global networks. Guests from around the world come here now. Plus, he improved on the expansion his daddy started.”

“Did you see him more often before he got involved with his ghost town project?”

“Raymond was never one to micro-manage, if you know what I mean. Wayne and Carol take a personal interest in everybody and make us feel like family. Raymond did too, but more from a distance. He was a stickler for safety rules, but that’s to be expected after the tragedy their family experienced.”

Her ears perked up. “What happened?”

“You don’t know?” His brows lifted in surprise. “I suggest you ask your cousin for the particulars. It’s not my place to say. Most of them keep mum about it, and I don’t blame them. Why dredge up old hurts?”

Because it might help to explain why Kate doesn’t speak to her brother, Marla thought. She wouldn’t ask Carol. Marla had promised to visit Wayne’s sister at her nutrition clinic. Annie might know about the events affecting her parents’ generation.

Thus when she and Dalton drove into town, they split up. Marla had called ahead to verify that Annie would be free for lunch, so Dalton dropped her off and set a time to meet her later. He wanted to stop by the sheriff’s office while she was occupied.

Stiff and sore from her morning exertion, Marla gave her name to the receptionist inside the tan adobe building. Did Annie own the property or lease it? The waiting area appeared to be well maintained. It held comfortable jade upholstered chairs, a filled magazine rack, a coffee table, and a water cooler. The tile floor appeared spotless.

A blonde behind a glass partition glanced up at her arrival and smiled. “Hello, can I help you? Do you have an appointment?”

“My name is Marla Vail, and I’m here to see Annie. She’s my cousin by marriage. We have a lunch date.”

The receptionist’s expression softened. “I’ll let her know you’re here.”

Marla took a seat until the inner door burst open, and Annie gestured for her to enter. As she crossed the threshold, a young girl was checking out at the billing desk.

“Chris, I’ll see you next time,” Annie said. “Call me if anything comes up before then.”

Figuring this teen must be one of Annie’s patients, Marla’s gaze inadvertently lifted to her straight brown hair hanging down her back. The ends could use a trim, plus highlights would bring out the color in her hazel eyes.

“By the way, this is my cousin’s wife. They’re visiting us from back east. Marla Vail, meet Christine Reardon,” Annie said.

“Nice to meet you.” Marla smiled at the girl, whose stick-thin figure could use a few pounds. “We’re staying at the dude ranch. I had my first horseback riding lesson this morning. So if I walk funny, you’ll know why,” she said with a chuckle.

“Have a good vacation. I’m sure Annie is happy you’re visiting.”

Annie led Marla down a corridor. She wore her hair in a ponytail and a white lab coat over her street clothes.

“This place isn’t very big. I don’t need treatment rooms, but I do show videos to my patients in that cubicle over there, and we have a kitchenette and laundry area. This is one of the former historic houses in town. I was allowed to convert the inside but not the exterior design.”

“Do you own it or rent the premises?”

“I lease the space. I’d worked for a doctor’s group before branching out on my own. I love being independent. I had built up my clientele along the way, so they followed me here. Rumor says an urgent care center is going to be built over by the drugstore at the highway exit. I might offer them my services for extra income.”