Read Peril by Ponytail (A Bad Hair Day Mystery) Online
Authors: Nancy J. Cohen
“All right, so I can’t help myself. Where there’s a crime, my nose follows.” He grinned at her before bending down to nuzzle her as though to demonstrate his words.
“Not now. It’s dinner time, and you’re already dressed.”
“Then let’s head out. What’s tonight’s lecture?”
She scrambled up and went to check the schedule. “
Cactus Up Close.
I think we can skip that one. Let’s relax for a change and plan our excursion for tomorrow. Where can we hire a hiking guide?”
“I’ll ask Uncle Ray in the morning. He’ll know who’s experienced around here. Besides, we’ll want to park at Craggy Peak and set off from there.”
Raymond must have been on the same wavelength, because he called Dalton right after they finished breakfast on Saturday morning. While Dalton listened, his face registered surprise followed by dismay.
“What do you mean, you found a bomb inside one of your buildings?”
After a quick interchange with his uncle, Dalton pushed the End button. The dour look he gave Marla didn’t bode well.
“Get your things. We’re heading over to Craggy Peak.”
“Raymond found a bomb there? For real?”
“He’s already called the sheriff, but he wants us to come. He’s got something to show us. Don’t worry, we’ll stay at a safe distance from the incendiary device.”
She strode alongside him at a brisk pace away from the dining hall. The morning air was cool and delightfully dry, and she didn’t miss the droplets of moisture you could almost see suspended in the air at home in South Florida. In the distance, the hills rose with majestic beauty, colored beige in the rising sunlight with splashes of greenery.
The message spray-painted on a wall at the ghost town was done in green as well. The words “E.F.A.” didn’t mean anything to Marla. She glanced down the hilly street, deserted except for emergency personnel.
“Where is everyone?” she asked Raymond, who’d met them upon their arrival. The older man looked haggard this morning, as though recent events had taken their toll.
“We gave the guys this weekend off, remember? I’ve arranged a memorial service for Eduardo. He doesn’t have any relatives here, so his body will be shipped home. We’ll resume work on Monday. Gomez came over to inspect the site, and that’s when he discovered the device. We’re lucky it failed to detonate. Don’t look so worried, it’s been secured.”
Dalton waved to the sheriff who’d spotted them. Beresby stood consulting with a couple of men from the bomb squad. “What does E.F.A. stand for, Uncle Ray?”
“Environmental Freedom Alliance. They’re a known activist group in the region.”
“So now they’re targeting your project?”
“Not necessarily. Anyone could have sprayed those letters to point the blame their way.”
It occurred to Marla that Raymond could have planted the bomb. But to what purpose? To throw suspicion off himself? To divert the sheriff from his investigation into Tate Reardon’s death? And what about Garrett Long? Their relative had something to do with the forest ranger that they had yet to determine. How far would Raymond go to keep his secrets?
Dalton’s brow furrowed. “Do you believe someone meant to mislead you?”
The older man glowered at his nephew. “These environmental groups have been known to sabotage construction projects, but I can’t believe they’re at fault on this occasion. We’re acting to preserve a historical site. So why attack us? And would the E.F.A. really do something subversive like drop a chandelier on our heads? I smell a rat, but it isn’t them.”
Marla didn’t know what to believe. His rationale made sense.
“And the dude ranch problems?” Dalton said. “There wouldn’t be any reason for the E.F.A. to be involved at the resort. I agree with you on that point.”
“I still think it’s the work of one man. Hugh Donovan hates me. He wants to ruin me financially.”
“I’m not convinced Donovan is the guilty party.”
“No? Then tell me what you’ve learned so far. You’re supposed to be a top-notch investigator, and yet I haven’t heard a word from you about any suspects.”
Maybe because he knows you’re withholding information.
Marla didn’t voice her thoughts aloud, but she sensed her husband’s tension as he replied.
“I’m still working on it. Marla and I want to take another look up on the mountain. Can you recommend a guide who knows this area well? We don’t care to fall down a hole like your unfortunate employee.”
Raymond regarded them from behind his sunglasses. “Is that wise? These hills are treacherous, as you’ve been warned numerous times. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”
“We’ll be careful,” Dalton reassured him.
“Then you’ll want to see Quinn O’Malley. He runs the Harmony Café in Rustler Ridge. The fellow used to work in the mines until they shut down.”
“So how old is he today?” Dalton’s tone held a hint of skepticism.
“He’s pushing seventy, but he stays in shape. Sometimes he’ll run hiking tours on Sundays when the outfitters in town get an influx of tourists. People come from the city for day trips. I’m hoping to tap into that crowd when we open Craggy Peak.”
“Anything else you need us for, then?”
“Nope, you can be on your way. I just wanted you to see this graffiti with your own eyes, in case you noticed something the sheriff might have missed.”
Marla stared at him. Despite his earlier snide comment, he sounded as though he respected Dalton’s deductive abilities. It only reiterated how little she knew about the man.
“Can you show us the site where the bomb was found?” Dalton asked.
Raymond signaled for them to follow him into one of the dilapidated structures. “We haven’t decided if this building should be torn down or rebuilt. The second story is a mess, but she stands clear of the other two buildings on either side and might make a decent small hotel. Look at the ironwork up there.”
The railings added an attractive decorative touch, but Marla could see where part of the roof had caved in and some of the inner walls were gone, too.
“The foundation is still solid and so is much of the framework,” Raymond said. “You should put on hardhats if you’re planning to stick around.”
“I’ll wait outside.” Marla stood on the sidewalk and took out her cell phone to look up the Harmony Café. It was located on an offshoot of the highway that led into town. She checked her watch. They could do some shopping and have lunch there. She’d check in with Annie, too. Maybe her newfound friend had heard from Tate Reardon’s family.
Heck, why wait? The sheriff was right here. She could ask him directly.
With a guilty glance over her shoulder, she proceeded to the beehive of activity by the bomb squad truck.
“Hello, Sheriff.” She grinned at him, a hat shading her face from the glare. “I guess this was a false alarm, huh?”
He raised his bushy eyebrows. “By God’s graces, yes. That thing might have gone off. We’re fortunate the yahoos who built it didn’t know what they were doing.”
“Do you believe the Environmental Freedom Alliance is responsible?”
“That’s what the message on the wall says.”
“I know about the graffiti. What do you think?”
“I’ll reserve judgment until I have more information.”
“Have you heard from Eleanor or Christine Tate yet? I’m worried about them.”
“So am I. We’ve got it under control.”
Marla supposed that meant he was answering in the negative. “What’s next? Too many bad things are happening to be mere coincidence. Did Dalton tell you a rattlesnake nearly bit him? Somebody put one inside his suitcase.”
The sheriff’s eyes widened. “No way. Did he dust the valise for prints?”
“Did he . . . we didn’t even think about it!” All they had been concerned about was escaping from the room. But the lawman made a valid point. Too late now.
“Whoever is behind these accidents is dangerous, Mrs. Vail. I’d suggest you let the proper officials handle the details.”
“Of course, you’re right. Sorry to bother you.”
“No problem. I’m only trying to do my job and keep folks safe.”
“I know. Dalton used to brush me off in the early days, too. He knows better now.”
With a smug smile, she turned on her heels and left as her husband emerged onto the street. They drove into Rustler Ridge while discussing their finds and possible conclusions.
By the time they made a few shopping stops and reached the café, lunch hour was in full swing. The place was small but cozy with decorations in a Native American motif.
“Is Quinn O’Malley around?” Marla asked the waitress after they’d placed their orders. “We’re visitors at the Last Trail Dude Ranch, and we have a proposition for him.”
The girl’s brows arched. “Sure, I’ll let him know. Be just a minute.”
She served their drinks before a lean guy with grey hair and a goatee sauntered their way. His blue eyes looked them over as he approached.
“Howdy, what can I do for you folks? Lucy said you had an offer for me.” Without waiting for an invitation, he flipped a chair around and straddled it to face them.
“We’d like to explore the mountainside and hear you’re the best guide.” Dalton folded his hands on the table. “My uncle, Raymond Campbell, recommended you.”
“Is that so? I usually do tours on Sundays. You can sign up at the hiking outfitters shop down the street.”
“We’ll make it worth your while to go today. I understand you used to work the mines? We’re interested in locating the original entrance.”
“For what purpose?”
“I’ll tell you more if you sign on.”
“Now you have me curious, buddy. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for you going off on your own and getting hurt. I suppose I could cut out of here for the afternoon.”
“Thanks, we’d appreciate it.”
“I’ll notify my staff the place is theirs for the rest of the day. What kind of gear do you have?”
“You’d better tell us what we’ll need,” Dalton said. “We have backpacks with flashlights, water, and snacks, but that’s about it.”
O’Malley chuckled. “Right. Three sources of light is the rule, if we’re going where I think you want to go. And helmets, plus a few other items. Come inside and find me when you’re done eating, and we’ll get started. I won’t take you far if we do find an entrance, mind you. We’re not the Bisbee Queen Copper Mine with a fancy public tour.”
A couple of hours later found them on top of the mountain near where Eduardo had fallen through the collapsed ventilation shaft.
They had several objectives. The first goal was to locate the original mine entrance. Then Marla hoped to find the spot where Garrett Long fell to his death. Somewhere along the way, maybe they’d run into the boundary of Otto Lovelace’s bottling facility.
She stared at the mountains in the distance while the sun blazed in a clear blue sky overhead. Where were the fluffy white clouds that graced Florida’s azure skies? This relentless sunshine would get on her nerves if she lived here. She supposed she’d get used to the seasonal changes in Arizona like newcomers did in Florida.
“I’m afraid the main shaft has long since been boarded up,” Quinn said in a gravelly tone. “You had to descend from there in a vertical cage, but I remember another entrance with a horizontal tunnel into the mountain. Let’s see if we can find that one.”
Marla poked Dalton as she accompanied the men. “I wonder if this place would be the one where Raymond’s brother died. If so, the entrance caved in when the dynamite went off. That could be when they changed locations and dug a deeper shaft.”
“According to what the vet told us, the three boys discovered an opening after it had been boarded shut. The wood had rotted by the time they went exploring. Quinn must be taking us somewhere else.”
How many ways into the mine had there been? She hoisted herself over a pile of rocks and skirted a prickly cactus as they climbed higher. Her breath came hard and fast.
Oy,
she wasn’t made for mountain climbing. Fortunately, the slopes in this area weren’t too steep. The difficult part was avoiding the boulders in their path and watching out for critters.
“Why did you bring along that big knife?” she asked their guide, indicating the blade strapped to his thigh.
“Mine shafts can harbor wild animals like mountain lions,” he said with a serious expression. “I hope you’re prepared to encounter spiders and bats.”
Marla touched her hair, which she’d braided to keep out of her face. “Ugh, I’ll be glad I’m wearing a helmet.”
“This whole area is a sieve. We’re looking for the face to a horizontal drift.”
“Could a natural cavern lead into the mining system?”
“Sure, but only through an open fault or a split in the rock.”
They’d shown him the site where Eduardo had fallen in, and he’d shaken his head in sorrow. The mines would have many such ventilation shafts, so there could be other pitfalls across the range. He skirted any large areas of tangled vegetation that might hide a crevice. Boulders and smaller rock heaps made their progression increasingly difficult. Marla tried to pick her way between them and stay on the reddish-brown dirt.
She would have missed the shadow in the mountainside if Quinn hadn’t stopped them to point it out. Even at their higher elevation, another peak rose before them. Shrubbery occluded the crack along with rotten boards that blended into the landscape.
“This is it!” Quinn trundled forward and began to remove the obstruction. With Dalton’s help, he soon had an opening they could all squeeze through.
Inside, rock walls surrounded them. It was eerily quiet but not totally dark since sunlight streamed in. Marla put on her helmet as instructed and activated the light. Quinn operated a handheld lantern that cast a bright glow as they edged forward.
“Stay right behind me,” he cautioned her and Dalton. “I’ll make sure it’s safe.”
An earthy smell emanated from the rocky enclosure. Her light bounced off the walls, and her nape prickled as they proceeded into a dark tunnel.
“If this leads into other shafts, we could get lost,” she said. “Shouldn’t we leave some sort of trail?” Old fairy tales came back to haunt her. They didn’t want to lose their sense of direction in a labyrinth.