Murder at the Big T Lodge: A Liz Lucas Cozy Mystery (7 page)

After Liz left the kitchen she went
up to her suite with Sam at her side. She felt unsettled by the morning’s
events and decided to see if she could take a nap, hoping it would make her
feel better. After tossing and turning with sleep eluding her, she knew that
wasn’t the answer to making her feel better.

Maybe I need some physical
exercise instead of sleep. Jack told me last night there are a number of trails
near the lodge and that Sam’s very good about making sure the guests don’t take
a trail that might present some problems for them. He mentioned something about
rattlesnakes and armadillos being in the area. I’ll definitely pass on both of
those.

She laced up her hiking
boots and said, “Okay, Sam. Let’s see what kind of a tour dog you are.” The big
dog stood up from where he’d been sleeping next to her bed and walked over to
the door, waiting for her to open it.

When she got to the bottom
of the stairs she noticed that the kitchen door was open, and Chef Jackson was
putting the finishing touches on some pies. “Chef, those look delicious. Are we
having them for dinner?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of a
specialty of mine. They’re pecan pies for dessert. I’ll put them in the oven
just before dinner and serve them warm with vanilla bean ice cream and a
molasses bourbon sauce. They’re usually a pretty big hit with the guests.”

“I can see why. That’s
definitely something I’m looking forward to. Jack mentioned there were a number
of trails that lead into the area surrounding the lodge. I thought I’d take Sam
for a walk. I feel like I need to do something physical.”

The chef laughed. “Liz, I
don’t think you’ll be taking Sam for a walk. I think it’s more the other way
around. Sam will be taking you for a walk. There are a few trails that aren’t
really safe. Don’t think you want a run-in with an armadillo or a rattlesnake.
For some reason they tend to favor certain trails. I can practically guarantee
you that you’ll see some deer and jackrabbits, but they’re nothing to be afraid
of. If anything, they’ll be running away from you. Enjoy your walk!”

“Thanks. I don’t know how
long we’ll be gone, but we’ll definitely be back in time for dinner. I wouldn’t
miss that!”

A few minutes later Liz
understood why the chef had said Sam would be taking her for a walk. Several
times she’d started to follow a trail only to have the big dog block her way.
He was an unmovable mass of muscle, and there was no way she was going to walk
down a trial if he didn’t want her to. Finally, she decided to simply follow
his lead. He walked towards a trail and turned around and looked at her as if
to say, “This one’s safe, Liz. Come on.” The old saying that went something
like “When in Rome do as the Romans do” came to mind. Since this was definitely
Sam’s territory, she figured she’d better do what he wanted her to do.

The trail Sam had chosen
for her led away from the barns and the kennels and into a black diamond crape
myrtle forest. She imagined it was spectacular when it was fully in bloom. For
the first time that day Liz felt like she usually did, upbeat, optimistic about
life, and glad to be enjoying some private time with nature. The forest was
huge, and as the chef had predicted, she saw some jackrabbits and deer. Sam was
very well trained so as not to spook the animals, and he would stand perfectly
still whenever he saw one, waiting for it to make the first move.

Liz stopped for a moment
and took a sip from the bottle of water she’d brought with her. Sam stopped as
well. Liz caught a glimpse of something off to the side of the trail and
realized it was a doe with two fawns. They hadn’t seen her, so she stood
perfectly still watching them, regretting that she’d left her camera at the
lodge. A moment later the observant doe spotted them, and the three deer loped
off.

Quite a bit later Liz
looked at her watch and realized they’d been gone over two hours. She knew
Roger would be returning to the lodge momentarily and would probably be worried
if she wasn’t there. While she’d ambled slowly into the forest, now she quickly
retraced her steps on the trail that led back to the lodge. Through the dense
cover of the forest she could just make out the lodge in the distance. As she
walked towards it she heard a voice speaking not too far from her.

“Rick, trust me on this.
Milt Huston is dead. With him out of the way I’m a slam dunk to be governor. I
want you to prepare a press release. When I get back I’ll call a press
conference, and we’ll get the ball rolling. I also want you to start sending
out feelers for who we want to be on our team. Obviously, I want you to run the
campaign. I’ll make it well worth your time. You’ve been lucky for me in the
past.”

The man who had been
speaking was quiet, evidently listening to the voice on the other end of what
Liz assumed was a phone that he was using. “How do I know he’s dead? He was
here at the lodge last night, and then this morning the owner of the lodge, a
guy name Jack, announced that Milt had an emergency come up, and he had to
leave. When we were walking back to the ATVs after the morning duck hunt, I
happened to overhear the owner talking to one of his guides. He said Milt died
in his sleep last night, and the local mortuary was coming to pick up his body
this morning. He asked the guide to call the chef at the ranch house and make
sure the body was gone before he and the guides started taking the hunters back
to the lodge for breakfast.

“The body must have been
gone because they loaded all of us in the ATVs a few minutes later. We just
returned from the afternoon quail hunt, and I came out to the edge of the
forest away from the lodge to call you. I didn’t want anyone to overhear me
talking to you. Here’s what I want you to do. Try to nose around a little and
see what the word is in Sacramento. Also see if there’s any rumor or word on
the street that Milt has died.

“I have no idea if his
wife has been told. They’ve only been married a few months. If you don’t hear
anything about it, might want to tell a few key people that you heard from a
good source that Milt is dead. That should start the rumor mills going and
prime the pump for my press conference. Look, I’ve got to go. I don’t want
anyone to get suspicious about why I’m making a call out here and not in the
lodge. I’ll call you tomorrow to see what you’ve found out.”

The man talking on the
phone was quiet for a moment and then said, “Yeah, I’m pretty stoked. Sure
seems like some good karma to me. Milt dying so I can become governor, just
like I’ve always wanted to. Later.”

Liz had stepped off the
trail and was standing behind a tree, not wanting whoever it was who had been
talking to see her. She carefully peeked around the side of the tree and caught
a glimpse of a large silver-haired man with a barrel chest hurrying back
towards the lodge. She put her hand down and indicated to Sam that he was to
stay. She stood there for several minutes, giving the man plenty of time to get
back to the lodge.

“Come on, Sam,” Liz said.
“I’ve got to get back to the lodge and talk to Roger. Sure seems strange to me
that the man I overheard talking on the phone who apparently wants to be
governor of California just happened to be here at the lodge at the same time
Milt was, and then Milt unexpectedly dies. I don’t know, but it all seems a
little too convenient.”

When Liz and Sam returned to the
lodge, she hurried up to her room, hoping Roger had returned. Sam left her and
looked for Jack, his inner clock telling him it was time for Jack to feed him
his dinner. When she opened the door to their suite she heard the shower
running and figured Roger was washing off the dust and grime from the quail
hunt. A few moments later he opened the bathroom door and walked out.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he said
as he walked over and kissed her, “I still feel bad about leaving you to clean
up what Jack should have taken care of himself. I know he’s supposed to be some
big shot in the hunting world, but I think he really mishandled Milt’s
situation.”

“Don’t worry about it,”
she said. I’ll tell you everything in a few minutes, and I do mean everything,
but I want to hear how your first day as a hunter went. Did you get any quail?
And I’m not sure if I’m using the right words.”

“You are, and I did. I’ve
owned a shotgun ever since I was a young man. Over the years I’ve gone out to
the local trap and skeet range to practice. I’m actually a pretty good shot.
However, this is a whole different ball game. You’ve got to be ready when the
dog goes on point, because everything happens with lightning speed. It was
pretty amazing. I was nowhere near the best shot among the hunters, but I did
well enough that no one laughed, which I’d been worried about. Now, tell me
about your day,” he said sitting down in one of the chairs that looked out at
the lake.

“I will in a minute, but
I’m trying to understand exactly what goes on when you hunt quail. Was it kind
of like the duck hunt this morning?”

“Not at all. The quail are
in a totally different type of terrain. We went to some open fields where Jack
grows feed for his cattle. It was pretty much stubble. Anyway there were two
hunters assigned to an area I’d say was about a couple of acres in size. There
was a guide who gave the dog we were using, a German shorthair pointer by the
name of Baron, instructions. The dog would run back and forth in front of us
looking for quail. When the dog scented the smell of the quail he would stop
and freeze, pointing his nose at the location where the quail were hidden from
sight in the grass. We would slowly and carefully walk to the spot where the
quail were hiding. When we got close to them they’d become nervous and would
flush and attempt to fly away. That’s when we had an opportunity to shoot them.

“When one or both of us
shot a bird, the dog would run and bring it back to us. I know it doesn’t sound
like I did much, but I walked more today than I’ve walked in a long time, and
I’m really tired. Now what about your day?”

For the next hour Liz
relayed everything that had happened from the time Roger had left, including
her conversation with Chef Jackson, and ending with the conversation she had
just overheard in the forest. “Roger, do you have any idea who the man I saw in
the forest might be?”

“I’m pretty sure it was
Mickey Roberts. Did he have silver hair and a big barrel chest?”

“Yes. The man I saw was a
big man with a barrel chest, and I have to say his hair was beautiful. A lot of
women my age pay their hairdresser big bucks to have hair that color. I wonder
if he dyes it.”

“The thought never
occurred to me. Jack introduced me to him today at lunch, saying we were both
from California, so we should probably get to know each other. I talked to him
for a while. He’s a California State Senator from Los Angeles, and he’s been in
politics most of his life. He started out on a local school board and worked
his way up from there. Jack told me he wouldn’t be surprised if he became the
governor of California someday.”

“Well, based on what I
heard, that certainly seems to be uppermost in his mind. Do you know anything
else about him?”

“No, as I said, I’d never
heard of him, but other than Milt and my friend Bob, I pretty much steer clear
of politics. I will say that from what I’ve seen of politicians, they often
feel that the laws other people have to live by don’t apply to them. Remember Richard
Nixon? Maybe this is one of those cases, or then again, maybe Milt’s death was
simply because it was his time. I’ll be curious what Sean finds out about the
contents of the bottle you sent him. I do wish I’d been a fly on the wall and
seen the expression on the clerk’s face when you told her you wanted to FedEx a
bottle of juice. She’ll probably be telling people about that for months to
come,” he said laughing.

“Roger, this is hardly a
laughing matter, and I think you’re being a bit insensitive. Anyway, do you
have any objections to me emailing Sean and seeing what he can find out about
the senator?”

“None at all,” Roger said.
“While you’re at it you might as well ask him to take a look at Amanda and
Emilio DeLuise, as well as the chef’s assistant, Cassie. If the chef has
suspicions, maybe there’s something to it. I think we’ve talked enough about
today’s events, and I need to get dressed. Don’t want to be late for dinner if
breakfast and lunch were any indication of what we can expect from the chef.”

“Well,” Liz said standing
up and walking into the bathroom, “If you like warm pecan pie with vanilla bean
ice cream and molasses bourbon sauce, I think you’ll be happy with tonight’s
dinner. I’ll email Sean after dinner. Give me five minutes to get ready.”

Liz and Roger walked downstairs and
into the great room where drinks and appetizers were being served. She looked
around and realized one of the big differences between California and Texas was
in what was being drunk by guests during the cocktail hour. She always served
various different kinds of wines to her guests, but here it seemed that most of
the guests were drinking bourbon.
Guess it’s a Texan thing,
she thought.

She noticed Chef Jackson
had prepared a large platter of the elk he’d served her at lunch as well as a
platter of other wild game appetizers. She was looking forward to trying the
appetizer labelled “Fried Quail in a Pomegranate Raspberry Sauce.” Liz was glad
to see that the game the hunters shot was being used.

“Good evening, Mrs.
Langley, how was your day?” the young man behind the bar asked her as she
debated what kind of wine to have. She looked up and recognized the waiter who
had served them breakfast, Jesse.

“It was fine, Jesse,
thanks for asking.”

“What may I get you to
drink?”

“Chef Jackson and I had a
glass of carmenere at lunch. Do you have any of that?”

“Sure do. It’s a big hit
with the guests and always goes well with the different meats Chef Jackson
cooks. Here you are,” he said as he handed her a glass. She took it from him
and mentally compared it to the color of the juice that had been in the bottle
in Milt’s room. The carmenere was a darker red and no odor was coming from it.

“Mr. Langley, what can I
get for you?”

“I’d like a bourbon on the
rocks. Thanks.” Roger saw the shocked look on Liz’s face and said, “What the
heck? When in Texas I might as well drink like a Texan.”

She shook her head and
whispered, “You’re the one who might just have to pay for it tomorrow.”

“Liz, this might come as a
shock to you, but I’ve drunk bourbon a time or two, and I assure you I can
handle it. Thanks for your concern though,” he said grinning at her.

“Just trying to be your
friend,” she said. “By the way, you might want to try some of the elk meat. I
had some for lunch, and it was wonderful.”

A half hour later Jack
walked over to the dining room entrance, opened the doors, and announced,
“Dinner is served. You’ll find a place card with each of your names on it. It’s
been my experience that if we don’t do that, the guests tend to eat with the
same people every night, although we do allow married couples to sit together.”
He nodded towards Liz and Roger as well as another couple who Liz assumed were
Amanda and Emilio DeLuise.

Liz and Roger found their
places, sat down at the table, and introduced themselves to the six men who
were also being seated at their table. A menu of what was going to be served
for dinner that evening was at each place. Liz picked it up and knew she was in
for another wonderful meal.

Dinner was to begin with a
jumbo lump crab cocktail with citrus fruit and a red pepper salsa followed by a
hanger steak, French fries, a partially scooped avocado half filled with
chilled broccoli cheddar cheese soup, fresh warm rolls, and the pecan pie.
Bring
it on,
Liz thought
, after the day I’ve had, this sounds divine.
A
moment later Jesse walked over to their table and served them each a
sundae-sized dish full of crabmeat mixed with chopped oranges and grapefruit
and garnished with fresh salsa. There was very little conversation while each
of the guests savored the crab cocktail.

Liz finished hers and
turned to the man seated next to her. “We met briefly, but let me introduce
myself again. My name is Liz Langley, and I’m from Northern California. This is
my first time here. I’m really impressed with the lodge, and the food here is
wonderful. Is this your first time?”

“No, I’ve been coming here
for several years. My name is Mac Ward. I’m from North Carolina, tobacco
country,” he said with a soft Southern drawl. “If it wasn’t for the food, I
don’t know if I would have kept coming back here, but every time I consider
going somewhere new, I remember the wonderful meals Chef Jackson prepares and
before you know it, my reservation deposit is in the mail.”

“I can certainly
understand that. I own a lodge and spa in California and cook meals for my
guests, but there’s a lot I can learn from Chef Jackson. He seems to be
amazingly talented.”

“He is. I like it that we
can order our own specially prepared breakfast, but I’m fine with the way they
serve lunch and dinner. I don’t know how he does it, but each year he surprises
me. I understand one of the guests who’s from your state, Milt Huston, had to
leave unexpectedly. Can’t say I’m too sorry. I’ve been here several times when
he’s been a guest.”

“Yes, I understand he had
to leave. May I ask why you’re not sorry he left?”

Mac put his fork down and
looked at Liz with a grim face. “I don’t know whether you know it or not, but
more tobacco is grown in North Carolina than anywhere else in the United
States. Last year an initiative was placed on the California ballot to increase
cigarette taxes by $2.00 a pack, but it didn’t get enough signatures to
qualify. So when the statewide effort failed, Milt started pushing for legislation
that would increase the state tax on each pack of cigarettes by $2.00. A lot of
other states have been looking to California to see if he’ll be able to get the
legislature out there to pass it. A number of them intend to do the same thing
if it becomes law in California. I understand he’s talked to a lot of people in
those states and is trying to get them to likewise raise their tax on
cigarettes.”

“I only met him last
night,” Liz said, “and I don’t smoke, so I’m unfamiliar with the proposed
legislation.”

“Well, I’m sure you can
imagine what will happen to growers like me if it becomes law. It sure would
hurt not only North Carolina’s tobacco industry, but it would be a huge
financial problem for me personally. With all these do-gooders talking about the
evils of smoking and how it supposedly causes cancer, cigarette sales have
really gone down the toilet in recent years. As a matter of fact, cigarette
consumption is at an all-time low. The tax increases enacted in a lot of states
are killing my industry. These aren’t taxes for generating income. They’re
punitive taxes to get people to either stop smoking or else not start smoking
at all. I hate these do-gooders,” Mac said as his face became red with anger.
“Add to that a tax of $2.00 per pack, and it will ruin a lot of the smaller
growers and sure hurt the rest of us.

“I’ve often thought it
might be nice if Milt had a little hunting accident while he was here at the
lodge, but guess since he had to leave that won’t happen.” He picked up a roll
and began buttering it. “Matter of fact, I wrote a letter to Jack telling him I
didn’t want anything to do with Milt, and to make sure we never hunted together
or sat at the same dinner table. Don’t think I’d enjoy my food if I had to look
at him.”

Tell me how you really
feel
, Liz
thought. She wished Roger had been seated closer to her so he could have heard
the conversation, but he was across the table engaged in a conversation about
the different attributes of hunting dogs.

Fortunately for Liz, Jesse
brought the main course, and Liz was able to turn to the man on her right, a
retired dentist from Oklahoma, and talk to him during the remainder of the
meal. When dinner was finished, Jack announced that brandy would be served in
the great room for anyone wanting it and if not, he’d see them in the morning
for tomorrow’s hunt.

Roger stood up and walked
around the table to where Liz was sitting and said, “I’m whipped, and I imagine
you are too. I’d much prefer a good night’s sleep to brandy. Is that all right
with you?”

“Absolutely. It’s been a
long day and I’m definitely ready for bed.”