Desert Heat (13 page)

He
took it and lifted it toward the light in the library, where they’d gathered.
“This real?”

 
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I think so, but
I’m not an expert.”

 
“You don’t have any idea where this came
from?” He held the tiny bottle almost reverently.

 
“No.”

He
focused on Mike. “Do you?”

 
“Not even a guess.”

 
“There’s nothing on this map that gives you an
idea?”
Bodine
held the paper toward him but Mike
didn’t take it.

 
“No.”

Why
should he want to see it again? He’d probably memorized it. Mallory fought the
urge to say so. He might be a liar, but she didn’t think he killed Skeeter or
the poor man in the desert. She’d seen Mike’s face when they’d uncovered the
guy’s face and he’d been as troubled as she was. Keeping the location to
treasure secret was another thing. Why hadn’t he just asked her to look at the
map? There really wasn’t a good excuse . . . unless there was something on it
he didn’t want her to see. He’d only caught a glimpse of it when she dropped it
after the barbeque. She was going to leave in a few days and take it with her.
If he wanted to get a good look without her knowledge he had to take it.

Disappointment
coursed through her.

She
knew better than to trust men. Her father taught her that lesson well. For a
short time, she’d wanted to forget. Mike reminded her. He was exactly like her
father. Willing to walk over anybody, anytime to get what he wanted.

She
couldn’t get away from him fast enough.

“You
said someone was in your room this morning?”

Mallory
forced herself to answer the sheriff. “Yes.
Him.”

 
“I wasn’t,” Mike insisted.

Why
didn’t he just admit it? She wanted to yell at him. The game was up, she wasn’t
playing any more. “Sure you weren’t.”

 
“If you weren’t there, do you know who was?”
Bodine
acted like Mike might be telling the truth.

 
“I don’t know. I was tired and I lay down when
we got home. I didn’t get up until after lunch.” He sounded so sincere she
almost believed him.
Almost.

 
“What were you wearing today?” The intruder
wore a white tee and jeans. She stared down her nose at him. He hadn’t even
changed.

He
glanced at his shirt.
A cream-colored polo and faded Levi’s.
“This.”

 
“Exactly what you had on when you came into my
room to put back the map.” She wasn’t going to listen to any more of his lies.
He wasn’t even good at it. She pushed her glasses firmly in place. “I saw you.”

 
“Did you have on your glasses?”

 
“Why?” She shifted. So what if she couldn’t
see well without them? She could make out colors and shapes. “No.”

 
“You didn’t see me.” He didn’t blink or look
away.

A
tiny niggle of doubt bit her. Could he be telling the truth?
For
once?

 
“If you two aren’t the only ones who know
about this map, maybe somebody else thinks they had to eliminate the
competition,”
Bodine
said. “So tell me. Who else
could have seen it?”

 
“My employee, Dianna Lewis,” Mike admitted. “I
told her about it. But I didn’t show it to her.”

 
“Did you tell her it’s no good?”
Bodine
reached for the creased paper.

 
“Yes.” Mike looked surprised. “I told her it
was worthless and that I put it back this morning.”

 
“Do you think she believed you?” He looked at
the evidence again.

He
rubbed the back of his neck while he thought. “I guess not. She was convinced
this was the answer to find money to fight the SRPL group.” He shot Mallory an
apologetic look. “She came up with a plan to lure Mallory out of her room so I
could get
ahold
of the map. When I told her it wasn’t
any good she was angry.”

 
“Mad enough to look for
herself
?”

Mike
shrugged. “I guess.”

 
“Mad enough to kill?”

Mike
sat up straight.
“No way.
There’s a big hole in this
theory of yours. We didn’t know about the map until I saw Mallory drop it. Skeeter
had already died. No one killed him for it. And the guy out there in the desert
has been missing for a month or more. Dianna had no way to know he was
searching for gold, if he was. She couldn’t have killed him a month ago to stop
him from beating her to some lost treasure.”

 
“Are you sure she didn’t know?”
Bodine
let his question hang. “You say you didn’t know
about this map. But if Wendell Wallace found out about it, then maybe this
Dianna did, too.”

Mike
felt his face go numb.
“No way.”

“I’m
going to need to do some checking with this woman.” The sheriff stood. He
picked up the map and vial of gold dust. “I’ll be
back
tomorrow with some more questions. I’ll expect to find both of you here. If I
were you, I’d lock my doors.”

Chapter
Thirteen

Mike
flinched as Mallory looked at him with contempt, but she couldn’t make him feel
worse than he already did. Now, on top of everything else, his friends were
being looked at on suspicion of murder. There was no way he’d ever consider the
possibility of Dianna killing anyone. He’d known her for more than ten years
and she wasn’t capable of offing anyone.

 
“I’m going to take Sheriff
Bodine’s
advice and go to bed,” Mallory said. She rose to leave.

 
“Wait a minute,” Mike said.

She
pinned a steely glare on him. “What is it?”

 
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

She
continued to stare at him without responding.

 
“What I did with the map was wrong. But I
swear to you, I wasn’t in your room this morning.” He ran a hand across the
back of his knotted neck. “And there’s more.”

 
“Yes?” She held on to the back of the chair as
if she needed it to hold her up.

He
couldn’t find the right way to tell her he had taken the other half of
Skeeter’s
map. What he had already done had been so
despicable, adding more was too much. The map was worthless. But he had to come
clean. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

He
ran to his suite and found the map he’d taken from
Skeeter’s
knapsack and stuffed it in his back pocket. He ran back to the library and
found that Mallory had moved to stand in front of the shelves. She ran a finger
down the spine of one of his books and winced.
Her jammed
fingers.
He had completely forgotten about them in all the excitement.
He moved beside her and took her hand in his. “Let me see.”

She
hesitated for a moment,
then
relaxed.

 
“You need to see a doctor to make sure these
aren’t broken.” He smoothed his thumb over the middle joint of her index finger
and she winced. “I’ll get Shelby. She’ll know what to do.”

 
“I’m fine.” But she continued to let her hand
rest in his.

 
“You’re not fine,” he said. “These last two
days have been hell for you.”

She
took her hand back. “They haven’t been great, but I’ll recover.”

Would
she? Could she ever bounce back after all that had happened to her? He wouldn’t
blame her if she never crossed the Arizona state line again. Her father’s
death, the flood, being bucked off a normally gentle horse, finding a dead man
. . . the way he’d lied to her. He held back a sigh. “I hope so.”

 
“I just want to go home as quickly as
possible.”

 
“There’s one more thing you need to know.” He
reached toward his back pocket.

She
shook her head. “I don’t want to hear it. I can’t take any more. Please, just
save it, whatever it may be. All I want to do is pack and go to a hotel and
wait for the coroner to call so I can go home.”

 
“You can’t go.”
His hand,
halfway to his back pocket stilled.
“You heard the sheriff. He wants us
here when he comes back in the morning.”

 
“I don’t care. I don’t have anything more to
add. He can find me at the hotel if he needs me.” She pushed up her glasses.

 
“At least rest until morning. I’ll take you in
to a hotel myself.” He didn’t want her to leave like this. The first woman he’d
cared about since Elisha, and she hated him. If he could convince her to stay,
maybe, just maybe he could straighten things out. “You’ve got to be tired and
sore.”

She
wavered. “I am worn out.”

 
“And hungry?
Breakfast was
along
time ago.” The sausage and eggs
Faye served that morning seemed a lifetime ago.

 
“A little,” she admitted.

 
“Stay. I’ll fix something to eat and get Shell
to look at your hand.”

 
“Just for the night.”
She sounded like she’d been sentenced to hard labor in Yuma. “But after that
I’m leaving.”

Come
to the kitchen,” he coaxed.

She
nodded. “Okay.”

He’d
won. He had about an hour to begin to redeem
himself
.

~*~

Mallory
sat at the counter and watched him warily.

True
to his word, he called Shelby from the kitchen phone and asked her to come up
to the lodge. Then he began to rummage through the stainless steel fridge for
something to eat. “What sounds good?”

She
shrugged. “I don’t care. My stomach is still rolling after seeing that poor man
like that.”

 
“Yeah, it was pretty nasty.” He looked over
his shoulder at her. “Dianna didn’t do that. I don’t care what the sheriff
thinks. She isn’t capable of doing something that horrific.”

Mallory
cradled her sore hand and she kept her eyes on it. “People do crazy things.”

 
“But not murder.” He took a skillet from the
cupboard. “Not that.”

Shelby
walked in. “Not what?”

Mike
waved the pan. “I was just telling Mallory that Dianna isn’t capable of murder.
No one here is.”

 
“Murder?”
Shelby’s
big blue eyes got larger. “What are you talking about?”

 
“Mike found a dead body in the desert. The
sheriff seems to think Dianna might have had something to do with it.” Mallory
spoke in a very controlled tone.

 
“A body?”
Shelby
almost shrieked.
“Where?
And what’s Dianna’s
connection to it?”

 
“Somebody bashed this guy, Wendell Wallace,
over the head and buried him in a shallow grave in the gully bellow the
petroglyphs
,” Mike told her. “And Dianna didn’t have
anything to do with it.
Period.”

 
“Why would she even be a suspect?” Shelby
asked.

 
“Because she knows my father left me half a
treasure map,” Mallory told her. “The sheriff thinks someone, Dianna, may have
possibly killed him for it.”

 
“Dianna wouldn’t hurt anyone.” Shelby shook
her head. “I don’t understand. What did this Wendell have to do with Skeeter?”

“He
was a treasure hunter, too. The sheriff thinks Wendell might have had a copy of
the same map Skeeter did,” Mallory said. “And that someone hit him over the
head and took it.”

 
“It’s a stretch at best,” Mike said. He
slammed his pan down on the stove. “As if we don’t have enough problems
already, now one of us is under suspicion of murder.”

 
“This is terrible,” Shelby said.
“Not only for the dead guy, but for us, too.”

 
“I have no idea what happened to him, but this
will really give the SRPL people ammunition.” His tone was flat. For the first time,
defeat filled him. He’d fought the good fight, and he thought they had a chance
to win.
If they could fund it, anyway.
But now with
this, he didn’t think there was a snowball’s chance in Phoenix of a judge
listening to him. If people were dying out here, it was just another reason to
close off the desert to public use.

 
“Yeah,” Shelby said. “It stinks. But we have
to stay strong.” She looked at Mallory, abruptly changing the subject. “What
happened to your fingers?
More cactus?”

 
“Zorro bucked her off and they’re jammed,”
Mike said. “Can you tape them for her?”

 
“What?” Shelby’s mouth fell open. “That sweet
little horse bucked? He’s bombproof.”

 
“Not when someone deliberately sticks a burr
under his saddle.” Mike took eggs and cheese from the fridge. He cracked the
eggs, poured them in a bowl and stirred in salt and pepper. “There’s going to
be hell to pay when I find out who did it.”

Shelby
came to her feet. “Nobody here would kill anyone or try to get someone hurt.
Especially Mallory.
She’s just an innocent bystander in the
whole river mess.”

 
“I agree.” Mike poured the eggs in the skillet
and added cheese. Sticking a half dozen pieces of bread in the toaster, he
glanced at Mallory. “But someone did try to get her at least bucked off. And
that’s not all. Earlier, someone snuck in her room.”

Looking
at Mallory, Shelby said, “That’s why you were asking me if I’d seen anyone
earlier and you were upset.”

 
“Yes,” Mallory said. “Someone snuck into my
room while I was in the shower. I heard them, but only caught a glimpse. I
didn’t have on my glasses so I didn’t get a good look.”

 
“Did they take anything?” Shelby looked as if
she didn’t believe any of it.

 
“No.”

 
“This is crazy,” Shelby said. “I can’t believe
it.”

 
“Believe it.” Mike turned the omelet. “Hand me
a plate, Shell.”

She
did as asked. “Eat first, Mallory. Then I’ll tape up your fingers for you.”

 
“Thank you.”

Mike
placed the steaming omelet and toast in front of her.
“Milk
or tea?”

 
“Tea.”

Shelby
raised her eyebrows a bit at Mallory’s tone, but he didn’t take offense. She
could talk to him a lot worse. He deserved it. He retrieved a tea bag from the
cupboard and made her a cup of raspberry-orange herbal tea. He cracked more
eggs. “You hungry, Shell?”

 
“Yeah, looks good.”

 
“Where’s Alan?” Mike poured the eggs into the
sizzling skillet. “Do you think he wants to come up, too?”

 
She shrugged. “I don’t know. He said he was
going to take care of something, but he didn’t tell me what.”

 
“Dianna went to pick up Brent. When they get
back let’s put our heads together and see if we can figure out what happened to
Wendell Wallace.” Mike looked at Mallory.
“And Mallory, too.”

 
“Brent left. He shouldn’t have. He wasn’t—”
She frowned.

 
“Feeling well?” Mike supplied. “He didn’t look
good this morning.”

 
“No.” Shelby picked up her fork when he set
her meal in front of her. Clearly, she didn’t want to discuss Brent’s health in
front of Mallory, so he dropped it.

He
made himself an omelet and the three of them sat in silence as they ate. No one
had much to say. His own thoughts felt like Mexican jumping beans. He couldn’t
concentrate on anything. He kept jumping between Wendell Wallace, Dianna, and
Mallory. All of them needed his attention and he couldn’t decide which one was
most important. His head said Dianna, but Mallory tugged at his heart.

She
looked so sad, so lost that he wanted to wrap his arms around her. She’d come
here to bury her father and she’d had one nasty encounter after another. If he fed
her and she woke up refreshed in the morning, maybe things would look brighter.
He hoped so.

 
“Can I get you anything else?”

 
“No. Thank you.”

She
was so angry with him. He looked at Shelby. “Do you have something stronger
than Tylenol? Her fingers really have to be hurting.”

 
“Yeah.
There’s some
other medicine in my first-aid kit down at the house. I’ll get it.” She stood
up. “I’ll go now. Mallory, if you want to go into the library, I’ll meet you
there in a minute.”

She
nodded.

Throwing
him a puzzled look, Shelby left.

Without
speaking to him, Mallory followed her lead and left him alone in the kitchen.

~*~

Mallory
sat in the library, alone.

She’d
left Mike with cleanup in the kitchen. He could just stay there and do the
dishes and think that maybe he ought to treat a guest a little better. She was
too tired to move or she’d leave tonight. Mike might think Dianna incapable of
murder, but Mallory wasn’t as sure. Ordinary people could do crazy things if
they were pushed too far. From what she’d seen of Dianna so far, Mallory knew
she had a jealous streak. Maybe she had other issues, too. Like an
uncontrollable temper.

Mallory
didn’t care. All she wanted was to get away. She closed her eyes for a minute.
As soon as Shelby taped her fingers, she was off to bed. Even if the whole herd
of horses galloped off into the desert, she wasn’t going to look. She would
cover her head with her blankets and pretend she didn’t hear a thing. She set
her glasses aside, leaned over, and laid her head on the armrest.

Two
people walked to the door and stopped.

 
“She’s asleep,” Shelby said.

 
“Good,” Alan replied. “Best if she goes to bed
and doesn’t stick her nose into anything else. The less she
knows,
the better.”

 
“She doesn’t know anything. I started to say
something earlier, but I caught myself in time,” Shelby said.

 
Mallory’s heart raced and it was all she could
do to keep feigning sleep. What did they mean ‘it was better if she didn’t
know’? Know what? Mind racing, she tried to remember what they had talked about
in the kitchen. Wendell Wallace.
The SRPL.
Nothing
jumped out at her. Did one of them know who had been in her room earlier?
Shelby had acted completely clueless and Alan hadn’t been around. Where had he
been all day?

Mike
joined them. “You’re here. Good.”

Before
they could tell him she was asleep, he walked in. “Oh, she’s sleeping.”

Pretending
to wake, she sat up and rubbed her eyes. She reached for her glasses. “I guess
I drifted off.”