Peril by Ponytail (A Bad Hair Day Mystery) (25 page)

“So they’re in cahoots together. Ben could be paying Jesse on Hugh’s behalf to sabotage Uncle Ray’s resort. It makes sense, especially since our place was torched right after we paid a visit to the Donovan ranch.”

“But why us? This is the second time we’ve been targeted, if you include the snake.”

“We must be perceived as a threat.”

“Why would Jesse get involved? For the money?”

Dalton shrugged. “People have done bad things for less.”

“I think Kevin has better reasons. I saw him taking something from Matthew Brigham. Maybe he’s getting paid to cause incidents.”

“What would Brigham stand to gain?”

“He could be the secret investor interested in buying people’s properties. The man is an engineer. He might know about the mines.”

“Hmm, you have a point. Let’s go talk to both wranglers if they’re around this morning.”

“What time shall we go into town? I have to buy new underwear in addition to outfits. Wayne said the cleaners might need a few days to get the smell of smoke out of our clothes.”

“The stores don’t open until ten. It’s early yet.” Dalton reached across the table to pat her hand. “This hasn’t been much of a honeymoon. I’m sorry for dragging you here.”

She smiled back. “Don’t be. It’s good we’re spending time with your family. But next vacation, we head for the beach on a tropical island. Promise me?”

“Done.”

His sexy grin gave her other ideas about how to spend the day, but they had things to accomplish. Their stomachs full, they headed to the corrals in the cool morning air.

Jesse was tending the horses in a nearby fenced enclosure as they approached. When Dalton signaled they’d like to speak to him, he let them inside.

“How can I help you folks?” he said with a wary expression.

Dalton offered his best authoritative glower. “Did you hear about the fire that broke out in our place last night?”

“What? Was anybody hurt?”

“Fortunately, we woke up and escaped through the patio doors. The fire started in the hallway closet, blocking our access to the front door. An incendiary device and a pile of old blankets did the trick.”

Gossip must be restrained among the staff if news hadn’t gotten around. Marla wondered if the small explosive, its sound muffled by the cloth, shared any similarities to the bomb found at Raymond’s project. Had theirs failed to explode in the intended manner, or had merely starting a fire been the goal?

“You were lucky. How much damage was done?”

“The hacienda is intact,” Dalton replied. “Most of the damage is interior.”

“Why are you telling me? Shouldn’t you be talking to the sheriff?”

“I’d like your opinion. Who do you think might want to harm us? We’re here as guests of the owner. So that begs the question, is my uncle the indirect target? We visited Hugh Donovan yesterday. Is it mere coincidence this act of arson happened so soon afterward?”

Jesse’s expression darkened. “Donovan isn’t to blame.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do, okay? Everybody is quick to point the finger at him, but they’re wrong.”

“You’re awfully defensive about the man. Why is that? Do you believe he’s innocent because you know something about Uncle Ray? Could it be he’s sabotaging his own place to throw suspicion off himself?”

Marla cut in, surprised he’d voiced aloud her own thoughts. “Raymond would never harm you, Dalton. How could you think such a thing?”

Likely her husband was trying to provoke the wrangler into revealing what he knew. Then again, Raymond had a motive where Garrett Long was concerned. The ranger had been his silent partner at Craggy Peak. Who
did
inherit Garrett’s portion? Would the sheriff have that information? Sniffing an unpleasant aroma, she glanced down to make sure she wasn’t standing in something she’d regret. Ugh. A horse had let loose a few feet from them.

Jesse patted a black beauty that nudged him. She had soft, dewy eyes and a regal carriage. “You don’t get it,” he told them. “You’re far off the mark about Garrett’s death and who’s to blame.”

“Why don’t you fill us in?” Dalton suggested.

“We’ve already had this conversation. You should relax and enjoy your honeymoon.”

“Wayne asked me to help him look into things, and it appears we’ve disturbed someone with our questions. So tell me again. How well acquainted were you with Garrett? You didn’t just saddle his horse when he came here to ride, did you?”

“Garrett was a good man. He could be kind and generous.”

“He was generous with his passion. I’ve heard he was having an affair.”

Jesse’s mouth tightened. “What he did in his private time was his business.”

“Not if it got him killed.” Dalton glanced around before lowering his voice. “Is it true Kevin Franks was his brother-in-law?”

“Listen, you guys are messing with bigger issues here. Leave it alone, or you’ll pay the price for being too curious. You’ve already had a taste of what can happen. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.”

Dalton withdrew a business card from his wallet. “Here’s my cell number if you feel like sharing.” He thrust it at the wrangler, who stuffed it into his pocket and strode away.

“I wonder what kind of proof he’s after. You’re sure that’s what the housekeeper said?” Dalton asked Marla.

“Yes. I’m not mistaken. Why would he withhold information? What can be more important than solving two murders?”

“We never mentioned Tate Reardon. Maybe Jesse doesn’t know about him.”

They let themselves out of the corral. Marla examined the bottoms of her boots, which she’d salvaged from her bedroom closet. Bits of hay stuck to the leather along with clumps of dry earth, but there was nothing she’d have to scrub off right away.

“So now what?” She swept a hand in a broad gesture. The distant mountains rose bluish in the morning sunlight. It would be nice if they could relax for one day free from worry and soak in the scenery.

“We’ll go into town and see what develops from there,” Dalton said in a morose tone.

It wasn’t like him to lack a plan, Marla thought. He must be feeling frustrated by their lack of access to pertinent data.

She strolled beside him along the path toward the main buildings, passing the arena on their right. Aside from the rodeo, they were missing out on resort activities, not that they weren’t getting their money’s worth since they hadn’t paid. And Wayne
had
requested their help in return for free room and board.

Wasn’t that termed a busman’s holiday?

Before they left for town, Marla called her mother and the salon to check in, after which Dalton phoned his mom from their hotel room. His daughter Brianna had already left for school, but Kate told him things were well, from what Marla could glean by eavesdropping.

“Wayne and Carol have been super hosts,” she heard Dalton saying. “His sister Annie has taken a liking to Marla. They seem to have a lot in common. As for Uncle Ray, he’s quite a character.”

He listened a moment. “He’s looking well, Mom, but he has regrets about the past. We’ve learned about the tragedy with your younger brother. And we met Hugh Donovan. There’s still enmity between those two even now. Don’t you think it’s time for everyone to let go of the ghosts haunting them and forgive each other?”

The conversation concluded shortly thereafter, as Dalton ended the call with an exasperated grunt.

“Mom won’t concede an inch where Uncle Ray is concerned. My grandmother must have poisoned her against him and my grandfather.”

“Don’t give up. At least you’ve planted the seed of forgiveness in her head.”

A couple of hours later, they were loading their newly made purchases into their loaner SUV downtown when Dalton’s phone rang.

“It’s the sheriff,” he said upon viewing the caller I.D. “Hello?” A pause. “Sure, Luke, we’ll stop by. We’re nearly around the corner.”

“Maybe he wants us to sign statements relating to recent events,” Marla mused on their way over. “Or he might have info on the arsonist.”

The lawman stood to greet them as a deputy ushered them inside. His hat hanging on a rack, he looked the quintessential western sheriff with his bushy mustache, lined face, and tanned skin. He bid them take a seat with a weary air.

“You haven’t had a moment’s break lately, have you? It’s always that way when there’s a case,” Dalton said, while Marla noticed the native artifacts on display and the scenic paintings on the wall.

She must have been too absorbed during her initial visit here to notice the décor. Those pictures really depicted the desert well. The artist had an eye for its beauty.

The sheriff observed the direction of her gaze. “It’ll be a while before I can sit down with my easel and brush again.”

“Don’t tell me you painted these?” Marla gaped at him. “They’re lovely.”

“Thanks. Painting relaxes me. Vail, what do you do in your spare time?”

“Me?” Dalton looked startled. “I grow tomatoes, work crossword puzzles, take walks or go to the gym.”

“He watches sports and the history channel on TV,” Marla added with a fond smile.

“This hasn’t been much of a honeymoon for you two. Have you had any time to relax?”

“Not much,” Dalton replied with a wry twist of his lips. “I’m just glad we weren’t hurt in that fire last night.”

“You were fortunate.”

“No kidding. The consequences might have been different if we hadn’t woken when we did.” Dalton hunched forward. “Wayne said your investigators found an incendiary device in our hallway closet.”

“It wasn’t meant to explode like a bomb. The thing was set among a pile of blankets that had been doused with a flammable liquid. Starting a fire was the intent.”

“We didn’t smell anything unusual,” Marla said, trying to recall what she’d noticed before turning out the lights.

“It wasn’t gasoline, if that’s what you’re thinking. Household cleaning fluids can be flammable, too.”

She stared at him. That opened up possibilities.

“Did your people get any prints?” Dalton asked, his face solemn.

“One set on the front door knob, but it might belong to you. We should get comparison prints to make sure. Was the door locked when you entered the place last night?”

“Yes, it was, and so were the patio doors. That means whoever came inside had a key.”

“The managers have master keys, and so do the maintenance crew and housekeeping staff. That doesn’t help,” Marla added.

“Actually, it does.” Sheriff Beresby studied her. “It appears this was an inside job, not the result of a random arsonist. What would make you guys a target?”

Dalton mentioned their visit to the Donovan ranch and their discovery regarding the mine along with their theories.

The sheriff picked up a pen and twirled it in his fingers. “I see you two have been busy. Detective, I could use someone with your knowledge and expertise helping me out. We’re stretched thin here, and I have other leads to follow. Would you consider assisting me in an unofficial capacity?”

“How so?” Dalton’s face lit up, and his spine straightened.

“Garrett Long made a lot of enemies in his work. Go talk to them. See if anyone has something significant to say.”

“Where would I start?”

“Here’s a list.” Beresby shuffled through the papers on his desk and withdrew a sheet. “I got these names from the forest supervisor. Every one of them has a reason to hold a grudge against Garrett.”

“What about other suspects?” Marla interjected. “Like, Garrett’s wife may have known her husband betrayed her with another woman and coaxed her brother into exacting revenge. Kevin Franks is a wrangler at Last Trail Dude Ranch.”

“The brother is definitely on my list, but not for the reasons you may surmise.” The sheriff regarded them with a steely glint. “Franks is a member of the Environmental Freedom Alliance.”

“Whoa, how come no one has mentioned this before?” A trace of anger laced Dalton’s tone.

Marla put a placating hand on his arm. He needed to curb his impatience.

“The man’s activities in this regard have only recently come to light.”

“Do you believe he’s acting on behalf of this group?”

“Possibly,” Beresby said in a noncommittal tone. “Your inquiries with the folks on that list would be mighty helpful.”

“All right, we’ll do what we can.” Dalton’s eyes narrowed. “Anything else you’d like to share with us, like how Tate Reardon’s death fits into things?”

“We’re still working on that angle. I appreciate your assistance, Detective. And you, too, Mrs. Vail. Just please be careful, and watch your backs. Don’t do anything foolhardy. If you find a reliable lead, give it to me to follow up on.”

Oh, right, Marla thought. Dalton would follow a lead himself until it smacked him in the face or turned into a dead end.

Outside, under a shady awning, they surveyed the typed list. Some of the people lived in the vicinity, but one guy was as far away as Scottsdale.

“That’s a two-hour drive!” Marla exclaimed in dismay. It would kill a whole day, and they were running out of time. Their vacation wouldn’t last forever.

Dalton checked his watch. “It’s one o’clock. We’d better eat lunch. Let’s find a place nearby as long as we’re in town.”

They’d passed a café on a hilltop with an outdoor terrace and a mountain view, so they retrieved their car and headed in that direction.

Marla called Annie on the way to see if she was available to join them, but the nutritionist was busy at her clinic. Annie reassured her that Christine Reardon and her mother had returned home and were involved in making funeral arrangements. It appeared the warning call for them to leave the house the morning of Tate’s death could not be traced.

She rang off as they arrived at their destination. The restaurant was every bit as delightful as it looked. Seated outdoors, she sighed in appreciation of the spectacular view. Potted flowers bordered the terrace, and a welcome breeze warmed her skin. They sat under cover from the sun.

After ordering her meal, Marla examined the sheriff’s list in more detail.

“Let’s see. We have a saguaro poacher, a pot farmer, an antigovernment activist, and a cocaine smuggler.”

“Don’t forget the guy who was angry because Garrett shot his family pet.”