Murder at the Big T Lodge: A Liz Lucas Cozy Mystery (5 page)

Liz heard the sounds of
the ATVs as they returned the guests to the lodge. She put the bottle of red
juice in her suitcase and said, “Come on Sam, let’s go greet Roger. I need to
get some breakfast.”

They’d just
reached the bottom of the stairs when Roger walked through the front door. He
walked over and hugged her. “How bad was it?” he asked.

“It’s been
taken care of. I’ll tell you all about it later on. I’m starving, and I imagine
you are too. How was the hunt?”

“I’ll tell you
about it over breakfast. Let’s go into the dining room.” Once they were in the
dining room they sat down at one of the tables, and a waiter immediately
brought them coffee.

“My name’s
Jesse,” he said. Liz looked up at him and thought how appropriate it was that
he was wearing jeans, a button down blue denim shirt and a red kerchief around
his neck. Jack had said all of the staff would be at the hunt, so she assumed
if he’d been there he must be a great quick change artist.

There was no
doubt in Liz’s mind they were in the land of cowboys, and Jesse portrayed the
look well. He handed each of them a menu and asked if they’d like some fresh
squeezed orange juice. They both replied in the affirmative and moments later
two chilled glasses of fresh orange juice were placed on the table. “Are you
ready to order or would you like a few more minutes?” he asked.

“I think we’re
ready,” Liz said. “I love salmon, and the salmon eggs benedict sounds
delicious, but I'm a little concerned about how fresh the salmon is given that
we're in a very remote area of Texas.”

“Not to worry,
Mrs. Langley. Mr. Mercer has it flown in fresh daily. I think you'll be pleased
with it.”

“I trust your
judgment. That’s what I’ll have. Thank you.”

“And for you,
sir?” he asked turning towards Roger.

“I’ve never
had venison before. I see you have venison hash on the menu. Do you think it’s
something I’d like?”

“I can only
speak for myself,” Jesse said. “It’s one of my favorites. It’s a traditional
type of hash with potatoes, onions, red peppers, and green peppers, but the
meat is venison. It's topped with two fried eggs, or you can have them any way
you’d like, and it’s accompanied by freshly baked sourdough bread.”

“You’ve sold
me. I’ll take it, but I’d like my eggs poached. Thanks.”

“Okay, now
that we’ve ordered, I want to hear all about the hunt,” Liz said.

“No, first I
want to hear if you were able to get ahold of Milt’s widow and if the mortuary
people came.”

“Not much to
tell. I called the number you had on your phone for his wife, but she wasn’t
there. Evidently her parents are visiting from Italy, and she took them on a
little trip. I didn’t feel comfortable leaving a death message on her answer
phone, so I decided to try again tomorrow. The mortuary picked up Milt’s body,
and for all intents and purposes, that chapter is closed. Now about the hunt.”

“It was very
interesting” Roger said. “As you know, we left before dawn. Actually, I would
prefer to hunt when it’s light. Guess it’s having practiced law too long, but I
have to admit I was afraid some yahoo would think he saw something and fire his
gun in the dark. Anyway, there were two guests plus a guide in each duck blind.
The guide uses a duck call to get the ducks to come into our area. The dog that
was assigned to our duck blind was a black Labrador retriever by the name of
Snoopy. Don’t even ask why he has that name. I have no idea. He’s there to
retrieve the birds, so he lies down on the ground next to the blind while the
hunters sit on a bench inside the duck blind.”

“So, how does
it work?” Liz asked.

“Using his
duck call, the guide calls the ducks. All of a sudden there’s a bunch of
flapping wings and each of us stood up and started shooting. And in answer to
your unasked question, yes, I did get a couple. I’d been worried I’d totally
embarrass myself, but I made a credible showing. Anyway, when one of us got a
duck, Snoopy would hear the splash in the marshy area in front of the blind,
and he’d race out and retrieve the duck. Then we’d watch for another flight of
ducks, and we’d do it again.”

“Okay, it’s
not my thing, but I’m glad you had a good time. I’ve got a question. Even
though there’s a river and a lake, this is pretty dry land. You mentioned a
marsh. How can there be a marsh around here?”

“Good
question. Jack created it from the lake you see from our suite. It’s actually
quite a large lake, and at the far end he’s built some small dams that make
that area kind of like a marsh or a swamp. Jack had ten duck blinds built, all
far enough apart from each other to be safe from gunfire coming from a nearby
blind. It’s really quite an engineering project. Ah, here comes Jesse. I am
definitely starving.”

Both of them
were quiet as they focused on breakfast. Roger was the first to finish. “Liz,
why don’t you stay here and finish your coffee? I need to go up to the room for
a couple of minutes. The quail hunt begins after breakfast, and Jack told us to
meet him in the great room when we’d finished breakfast. Sorry for leaving you,
but I want to wash up, and I have to change clothes before we take off again.
As Jack told us last night, they’re serving us lunch while we’re out in the
field, and then we’ll hunt till around 4:30 or so. Try and stay out of trouble,
although as big as Sam is and as attached to you as he’s become, don’t think
that’s going to be a problem.” He stood up from the table and lightly kissed
her on the cheek.

“Good hunting
and enjoy,” Liz said. “You deserve it. I may go into town and see what
wonderful things they have, although I’ve been told if you blink your eyes
you’ll miss it. Even so, I’d kind of like to get the lay of the land. See you
tonight.”

During breakfast, Liz decided what she was going to do
with the bottle of beet juice she’d taken from Milt’s room. She walked up to
their suite, Sam beside her, and took her laptop computer out of its carrying
bag and booted it up. Moments later she was emailing Sean, a private
investigator who was on the staff of Roger’s law firm at their San Francisco
office. He’d been immensely helpful in providing information to her about
possible suspects in several murder cases in which she’d been involved.

In her email she explained
what had happened to Milt and about the bottle of liquid she’d found next to
his bed. She told him she was sending it to him by FedEx and asked him to have
it analyzed. She wrote that Milt had told Roger and her the night before that
he drank beet juice with some ground almonds in it twice a day, and he thought
he could really feel the benefits. Liz wrote that Milt had offered her a taste
of it the evening before, and she’d thought it was horrible. She went on to
tell him that the bottle next to Milt’s body had an unusual smell to it which
she hadn’t noticed the night before, and for what it was worth, the bullmastiff
who had befriended her growled every time the top was off of the bottle. Liz
pressed send, and then she decided to change into some more comfortable clothes
before she drove into town.

A few moments later her
laptop chimed, indicating there was a message on it. She read what Sean had
written.

“Good grief, Liz, you haven’t
even been there twenty-four hours, and you’ve already found a dead body? What
is it with you? And a bullmastiff befriending you? I've heard of dogs being
chick magnets, but I’ve never heard of someone being a dog magnet, but then
again you constantly surprise me. Might want to find out if the dog was ever
involved in sniffing out drugs for some government agency like the police or
army. Maybe he’s onto something.

I’ll personally walk it
over to the lab as soon as I get it. They’re closed today, because the owner
had a death in the family, but they should be open tomorrow, and our firm is
such a good client, I don’t think I’ll have any problem getting the analysis to
be a priority for them. 

I have to tell you I have
some concerns about all of this. I knew Milt, and I don’t know whether you’re
aware of it or not, but he was a real health nut. He and I belonged to the same
health club in downtown San Francisco, and I don’t think I was ever there
without seeing him. He was also into eating really healthy food. I remember
having lunch with him one time after we played racquet ball, and he told the
waiter he was a vegan and didn’t eat animal products. He told the waiter to
bring him something that would adhere to that. I remember it, because I felt
pretty guilty having ordered a steak sandwich with French fries.

If I can get the bottle in
question to the lab by tomorrow morning, I should have something for you by
tomorrow afternoon. Again, be careful. I know only too well you have an
incredible knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Keep that
bullmastiff with you. He might be of some help. Tell Roger hi for me.”

Liz wrote him back, told
him she’d be careful, and thanked him. She wrapped the bottle of beet juice in
tissues and carefully put it in her purse, then she walked downstairs to the
kitchen. The door to it was open, and she saw a man she assumed was the chef
and the woman she had met earlier, Cassie Sowers.

“Hello again, Cassie.” She
turned to the chef and extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Liz Langley, and I'm
assuming from the chef’s jacket you’re wearing that you’re the one responsible
for that delicious breakfast I finished a little while ago. I’m really looking
forward to the next few days. I own a lodge and spa in Northern California, and
I cook the evening meals for the lodge guests. If you have time, I’d love to
talk to you about cooking for the guests here at the lodge.”

The portly and prematurely
grey-haired man in the chef’s coat shook her hand and said, “I’m Wes Jackson,
and I’d like that very much. I’m sure there’s much I can learn from you as
well. I’ll be here this afternoon, and it’s pretty quiet around 1:00 or so.
Perhaps we could talk then.”

“Wonderful. I’ll plan on
it. I’m taking one of the cars and going into town. I have something I need to
send by FedEx, and I also want to take Milt Huston’s attaché case and his
suitcase to the mortuary, so they can send it with the body. Anyway, it will
give me a chance to see the countryside. Jack told me I could take one of the
cars whenever I wanted.”

“Yes, that’s standard
practice here at the lodge, particularly when one of the guests isn’t hunting,
although that’s rarely the case. The keys are either in the ignition or under
the floor mat. If you have a problem, let me know, and I’ll help you. I see you
have a friend waiting for you just outside the door,” he said, motioning
towards Sam. “He won’t come into my kitchen. Actually he likes me, but for some
reason he and Cassie have never hit it off. Right, Cassie?”

“Right. He knows I prefer
French toy poodles or cats to big old dogs like him. I think there must be
something wrong with a dog that looks like a horse. Just ain’t normal, if you
ask me.”

The affable chef laughed
and waved goodbye, as Liz walked out of the kitchen.

“Sam, you stay here. I’ll
be back in a couple of hours,” she said as she let herself out through the
large front doors of the lodge. The big dog pretended he hadn’t heard a word
she’d said and followed her out to the car. When she opened the door of the
car, he jumped into the passenger seat, ready for riding shotgun into town. Liz
laughed to herself knowing there was no way she could physically move the big
dog once he’d decided to do or not do something.

Liz looked around as she began her
drive on the semi-improved dusty road to the small town of Riley, Texas. She
saw a few cattle, but mainly the land next to the road on her drive consisted
of miles and miles of dry grazing land broken only by an occasional fence
constructed to keep the cattle from wandering onto another rancher’s land. She
saw a few stands of trees that looked like they’d been deliberately planted as
a windbreak to protect a ranch house from the fierce winds that occurred from
time to time in that part of Texas. From the size of the houses, they looked
like they’d probably been built for property managers or ranch hands. She
certainly didn’t see anything as large and imposing as the Big T Lodge.

After driving for about an
hour, she saw a small town in the distance consisting of a few buildings and
one traffic light. That was all that made up the small town of Riley, Texas. At
the stoplight she made a left turn, then an immediate right turn onto Elm
Street, the street Mr. Gordon had told her was where the FedEx store was
located. She easily recognized the FedEx logo, told Sam to stay in the car, and
walked into the nearly barren office.

She glanced around the
stark room and didn’t see anyone, so she pushed the red buzzer located on the
counter. A few moments later a grey-haired weather-worn woman walked out from a
room behind the counter. “Hi. May I help you?” she asked Liz.

“Yes. I have a bottle I'd
like to have FedEx’ed overnight. Can you do that? I guess I’m asking if it’s
possible to overnight something, since this is pretty remote from any major
Texas city.”

“Land sakes,” the woman
exclaimed. “You want to pay the FedEx prices to send a bottle of what looks to
me to be juice to someone? Whyever for?” She quickly put her hand up to her
mouth and then said, “Sorry. Nate, my late husband, always tol’ me I asked too
many questions, and it ain’t none of my business what the customer wants to
ship. Shouldn’t have asked. By the way, my name is Cindy Lou Larson,” she said
extending her hand across the counter.

“No problem,” Liz replied
shaking her hand. “My name is Liz Langley, and yes, I do want to send it. Think
it will go out today?”

“Yup, Rod should be here
in ‘bout half an hour. Since it’s got liquid in it I think I better wrap it in
bubble wrap. It’ll cost you twenty-five cents more. Is that okay?”

“Whatever you feel is the
best way to send it so that nothing spills out of the bottle will be fine with
me.”

“Course I’ll have to
charge you fer a shipping box as well as the bubble wrap. All together it’ll
come to $15.95. You’ll need to fill out this here address label,” Cindy Lou
said. “Don’t recognize ya’ from bein’ around these parts, and I purty much know
everyone. Might want to put yer’ home mailing address on the return address in
case somethin’ goes wrong.”

“Thanks, I will, and no,
I’m not from around here. My husband and I are staying at the Big T Lodge.
We're from Northern California.”

“Lawdy, you must be bucks
up to be stayin’ at that fancy schmancy place. That’s one humdinger of a
huntin’ lodge ‘ol Jack done made fer hisself. Hear it’s got antique western
furniture in it and a fer real chef. Course that Jack always did have some
airs. Guess he’s really made a name for hisself if you come all the way out
here in the dead of winter jes’ to hunt them ducks and quail he plants on his
property.

“Never seen the inside of
his place. Actually, never been near the property, but I hear it’s somethin’.
Has special kennels for the dogs and all those ATVs fer takin’ the guests out
to where they’re gonna hunt. Hear he’s even got a special buildin’ to store the
ATVs in at night. Sure am a lotta money to spend jes’ to shoot some dumb birds.
My ol’ daddy used to go out a few miles from here and get all we could eat, and
he never had to spend a dime fer them.”

When Cindy Lou had
finished wrapping the package, Liz paid her and opened the front door. As she
was leaving Cindy Lou said, “Nice meetin’ ya’ Liz. Ya’ need anything else, come
on back. Like I said, I know purty much everyone from ‘round these parts. Even
know where a few bodies have been buried.”

“Thanks, Cindy Lou. I’ll
keep it in mind.”

There was no one on the
sidewalk. The town consisted of only a few buildings, the most prominent one
being the Gordon Mortuary. It was a town that serviced the ranch people who
lived for miles around it, certainly not tourists.
This is one of the only
towns I’ve ever been in that doesn’t even have a T-shirt shop
, Liz thought.

She returned to her car
and drove to the Gordon Mortuary. She parked and told Sam to stay in the car.
She went into the mortuary, introduced herself to the receptionist, Selene, and
left Milt’s attaché case and suitcase with her. Liz told her they were the
personal property of Milt Huston. She asked Selene to give them to Mr. Gordon,
so he could send them with the body when it was transported back to California.