Darlene Franklin - Dressed for Death 01 - Gunfight at Grace Gulch (8 page)

What on earth?

“We were spared the mayor’s speech,” Dina said.

Laughter replaced the reprimand that came to my lips. Mayor Ron Grace spoke at every public gathering, often weaving something about the great legacy of the Grace family into his address. To hear him tell it, his family took credit for every hamlet and city that had the name of Grace in it. Most of the time, I tuned out his braggadocio

“I’m sorry, that’s all I remember,” Dina concluded. “I gotta go. I’m supposed to be at work in twenty minutes.”

I looked at the list of names she had given me. Mitch Gaynor, Gwen Hardy, Ron Grace. It was a start. Maybe my customers today would remember more.

Time to get ready for work. I checked my reflection in the mirror and decided I needed to wash my hair. I didn’t relish the prospect; no matter what brand of expensive shampoo I used, or how often I applied conditioner, my hair remained a frizzled, dry mess. Nevertheless, I climbed in the shower, lathered my hair twice, and left on a conditioner that smelled like strawberries and champagne according to the bottle, while I bathed my body. I blow-dried my hair into submission, pulling it into a severe bun. The process took an hour. After that I read my Bible while I had a cup of coffee and a bowl of oatmeal. At twenty-five minutes past nine, I left for the store.

I parked in an alley behind the store and walked around to the front of the building. Seeing the words Cici’s Vintage Clothing etched into the glass with Antigua lettering always brought a smile to my face. It represented a dream come true, proof that I could do something besides be a rancher’s wife. I took a handkerchief from my purse and rubbed at a small spot on the glass then unlocked the front door. I didn’t turn the sign to O
PEN
yet; I wanted to check the displays and open the registers first.

I started coffee brewing and poured tea over a pitcher of ice. Later today I would stop by Gaynor Goodies for fresh cookies; Saturday’s leftovers had become as hard as week-old doughnuts over the weekend. I made a point of providing refreshments. They encouraged clients to spend more time in my store, and the extra sales more than compensated for the occasional spill.

A soft knock reminded me that I hadn’t unlocked the front door yet. I turned the sign to O
PEN
and greeted a friend from high school.

“Cici!” The now city lawyer and former high school cheerleader rushed into the store with the same enthusiasm she used waving pom-poms. Two ladies followed her in. “I’ve been telling my friends about your wonderful store, and while we were here for Land Run Days, we just had to check it out.”

The day had begun.

Business was brisk for a Monday morning. More people had remained in town past the weekend than I had expected. With each sale I rang up, I gave the customer my business card with my Web site address and asked, “Were you here for the festivities this weekend?” Most people told me how much they enjoyed the weekend, especially the reenactment, until that awful accident on Saturday. I wasted some time answering their questions, but fortunately the out-of-town guests didn’t seem to realize I had rushed to Cord’s side. From there it was easy to ask who else they saw watching the gunfight.

My lawyer friend identified Dina. “That was your sister, wasn’t it, with that Santa red hair? I couldn’t help noticing her. Most of the time I was watching the action as closely as if I were going to be called as a witness at Cord’s trial.” She raised a hand at my shocked look. “Or should I say Bob Grace’s trial? I was thinking of the original feud. I didn’t notice much else.”

Many people, strangers to town, mentioned the girl with the red hair. I wondered if my sister knew how noticeable she was. She probably did and welcomed the attention. You didn’t dye your hair every color of the rainbow if you wanted to stay anonymous.

Visitors who had stopped by the Gulch for refreshments mentioned Suzanne. They described the actress as “that lady with the big hairdo, who looked right at home.” Suzanne Jay could certainly dance the cancan like a professional saloon worker. Apparently she came to the swinging doors and watched the action along with everyone else.

I had better luck when Enid Waldberg came into the store about eleven with a couple of ladies from church. A month ago, Enid had admired my prairie bonnets, commenting how practical they were for protecting your head from the sun. She loved to garden, but had to slather on sun screen; her Scandinavian skin burned easily. She had studied every bonnet I had in stock and then left without buying any.

“Cici!” She gathered me in an obligatory hug. I loved our pastor’s wife. We all did; her sweet nature complemented her husband’s forceful personality perfectly.

“How are you doing?” Enid looked at me as if she knew every feeling I had suffered for the past three days and every doubt that had been cast on my family. Come to think of it, she probably did know the gossip. The rumor mill thrived in Grace Gulch. In another time or place, I would have been glad to talk things over with her. Today, however, I had questions to ask and a store to run.

“I’m doing okay.” I wondered if she came in just to chat or to do some real shopping.

“Do you have anything on sale?” One of the church ladies asked. “We thought you might mark down some items after the festival.”

Ah, a bargain hunter. I recognized the breed, people who didn’t understand the cost of locating, restoring, or recreating period costumes.

“Not yet,” I said brightly. In fact, I wondered if my stock would last through the week. “Enid, I have something to show you.”

She followed me to my back office, and I handed her a slim white box. “This is for you.” When she hesitated, I said, “Go ahead, open it.”

When she failed to buy a bonnet, I decided to surprise her with one. I had chosen a pale blue calico, with sprigs of white and purple lilacs. “Try it on.”

“Oh, my.” Her trembling fingers settled the bonnet on her head and tied the strings beneath her chin. She studied her reflection in a small wall mirror, turning her head from side to side. “It’s gorgeous. You shouldn’t have.” She removed it and folded it back into the box.

“It’s my pleasure.” I beamed. “I only wish that I had given it to you before Land Run Days. What did you think of the play?”

“Audie did a magnificent job staging it, didn’t he? It was wonderful, except for the awful tragedy, of course.”

“This may sound strange, but did you notice who was standing in front of the Gulch?”

Enid didn’t ask why I wanted to know. She closed her eyes as if to envision the scene. “Dina. Suzanne Jay.”

My heart plummeted. I hoped she had noticed someone new that no one else had mentioned yet.

“Mitch Gaynor. Mayor Grace. Gwen Hardy.” She thought longer and mentioned more names. “I was there with my husband and a few others from church.” She opened her eyes. “Those are the only people I remember. Is it important?”

“It might be.”

“I’ll ask the ladies and let you know what I find out.”

I made a pencil sketch of the sidewalk in front of the Gulch and asked her to mark where everyone was standing. Her memory put mine to shame. I could take note of what attracted people in my store, as well as which items they passed on. But in other places, I didn’t pay as close attention.

The trio departed the store without purchasing anything. Half an hour later, the phone rang. “I’ve checked around,” Enid said without preamble. “The people I mentioned are the only ones anyone remembers seeing near the door to the Gulch.”

If Cord’s theory about the direction of the gunfire was correct, I had my list of suspects.

8

September 10, 1891

Dearest Mary,

Another man has discovered the dale which I have begun to think of as our own. I returned there today, considering where we could build our cabin, plant a garden, and dig a well. I pictured enjoying a picnic with you under a spreading elm tree.

Then, while I was enjoying a drink of cool river water in the shade of a tree, a stranger approached. He rode among the trees much as I had on my first visit, testing the leaves for fullness of life. I could tell he was assessing the land. I confess I had hoped that God would hide this spot from the eyes of other land seekers.

The stranger heard the noise and turned in my direction. He introduced himself as Dick Gaynor. I expect he didn’t like finding me there anymore than I liked finding him.

Your loving fiancé

Robert Grace

~

Monday, September 23

In between customers, I studied Enid’s sketch of the front of the Gulch. None of the people listed struck me as likely killers, and I couldn’t imagine how any of them could fire a gun unseen. That was the problem. I couldn’t visualize the angles. But I knew someone who could: Audie. He had to do it every time he designed a stage set.

I dialed his cell.             

“Cici! It’s good to hear from you today.” His silky voice tickled my ear, intimate beyond mere friendship.

The sound teased memories of last night’s kiss to the forefront of my mind. The morning’s information gathering had pushed it into the background. The sparks the kiss had created last night now flamed into fire and spread across my face, and in the confusion I blurted out my request. “Can you join me for lunch?”

“I’d love to. Where shall we meet?”

“The Gulch.”

Silence on the other end. When Audie spoke again, his silky tones had turned to business casual. “This isn’t a social call, is it?”

“Maybe it is. Can’t it be both a social call and a business call?” The words coming out of my mouth surprised me. I wasn’t the flirting type. I hoped my hurried invitation hadn’t diminished whatever grew between us. Then again, if a simple request between friends could ruin a romance, then Audie wasn’t the man I thought he was.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Audie disconnected the line.

I fought the impulse to cry.

Two customers came in and bought vintage purses before I could change my store sign to
Closed
and lock the front door. I moved the hands on the
Will Return at
sign to quarter past two o’clock. Our discussion might take awhile. Audie waved at me from across the street, and I hurried to meet him.

“What’s up?” he asked as we walked into the Gulch. Although the false saloon front was still in place, they had reverted to their usual menu and regular staff. Suzanne of the bouffant hair had disappeared back to the theater.

“Let’s get some lunch first,” I said. “I’m hungry.” I knew what I wanted without consulting the menu. Audie took his time perusing the selections and decided on biscuits and gravy—“The best-kept secret of Oklahoma cooking,” he called it—with fresh coffee.

While we waited for the food, I showed Audie my sketch. “I’m pretty sure that these are all the people who were in front of the Gulch during the gunfight.”

“The people who could have taken a shot, you mean.” Audie pushed pale bangs away from his eyes while he examined the crosses and circles on the paper, turning it in his hands as if to get different perspectives.

“I know it’s not very clear. I thought you could make another sketch. You know, like staging a scene for a play. Think of it in terms of entrances and exits.”

“Exit, stage left,” Audie murmured. His pen poised over a soft paper napkin.

“Here, I’ve got something better.” I dug a pad of lined paper from my purse.

“Thanks.” He looked at the sketch. “Where are the saloon doors?” He sketched out the main street, the street in the front center, vanishing into the west in the distance. The waitress arrived with our food. Audie tore the sheet of paper off the pad and folded it in half.

Neither one of us spoke until we took a bite of our food. I savored the flavor of the chicken salad on my tongue. Audie forked his biscuits with the enthusiasm of a toddler discovering a new food.

At last Audie leaned back and reached for his napkin. “You know that I don’t like the idea of you looking into the shooting. It’s dangerous.”

How sweet. He wanted to protect me from the big bad wolf instead of expecting me to grab a gun and help hunt it down. And how outdated. I was a twenty-first century woman—even if I did dress in clothes more than a hundred years old.

“Nothing’s going to happen to me,” I said.
But what about you?
What if something happened to Audie because he helped me? Worry was a two-way street.

“Oh, I expect that something’s going to happen to you all right.” Amused fire danced in his darkened eyes. “Something even more adventurous than chasing down a murderer.”

I choked on a chunk of celery. “You sound sure of yourself.”

He glanced away and when he looked back, the fire in his eyes had died out and his eyes had returned to their usual sapphire blue. “No, not sure of myself. Just sure of what I want.” He smiled. “Dessert? Would you like to share a cookies-and-cream milkshake?”

A milkshake? Drink out of two straws over a single glass? Stare into Audie’s mesmerizing eyes? Live dangerously, I decided.

“Why not?”

When the waitress returned with the milkshake a few minutes later, Audie put his hand over mine. Leaning forward to take the straw between my lips, I stared into eyes that reflected my own dreams and hopes and aspirations. For a moment I let myself believe.

The waitress placed our check on the table without speaking, but her appearance broke the dreamlike trance. News of this very public display would reach all of downtown within the hour, and Cord’s ears by suppertime.

The thought of Cord undid the magic, and I withdrew my hand from Audie’s. Did I like Audie enough, know him well enough, to hurt Cord that way? To cover my confusion, I studied the unfinished drawing. “Do you need me to tell you where everyone was standing?”

Audie swallowed the last of the shake and sighed. Regret flickered in his eyes, but when he spoke, he returned to the business at hand. “Why don’t you show me? Outside.” We paid the bill, and I insisted on splitting it, since I had invited him to lunch.

We exited through the swinging doors, and I got into position. “Suzanne was standing here.”

Audie marked it on his sketch.

I moved a few feet to the right, beside the pole that held up one side of the overhanging roof. “Dina was here. And Pastor Waldberg and Enid were standing over there.” I pointed to the pole on the left side of the roof.

“In what order? Was anyone standing in front of someone else?”

I consulted the notes Enid had given me. “The pastor was in back, with one of the husbands. The three ladies stood in front of the men.”

As Audie continued to take notes, I said, “Mayor Ron stayed right smack in front of the doors. Enid said she heard Suzanne asking him to move so she could see better. She came out herself a bit later.”

“Who was between the Waldbergs and the mayor?”

“Maybe half a dozen people, mostly from out of town. I don’t know their names.”

“How about between Dina and the mayor?” Audie didn’t remove his gaze from the sketch.

“Not as many people.” I checked my list. “Gwen Hardy. Mitch Gaynor. Young Sammy Hardy.” I went on to name a few others.

Audie handed me the sketch. I glanced at it and a thought struck me. “Would you do one more thing for me?”

“Sure,” he said as I glanced up and down the street.

No cars in sight. “Go out into the street, about where Penn fell down.”

He checked for oncoming traffic, and then walked into the street with a bit of a cowboy’s swagger. He spread his arms as if to say, “Here I am.”

I walked over to the left side of the sidewalk, where the Waldbergs stood, and pretended to aim a gun. I couldn’t find a spot where I could get a clear view of Audie’s chest. A hot dog stand put up for the weekend’s festivities blocked the view.

Audie dashed to safety when a couple of cars passed and then returned to his position. With a sinking heart, I walked to the left side of the Gulch. I put myself in Mayor Ron’s place. Check. Suzanne Jay. Check. Mitch Gaynor. Check. Gwen Hardy. Check. Last of all—Dina. Any one of them had a clear view of Penn. So far my investigation had accomplished nothing but to prove my sister could have killed Penn.

Another car sped past, and Audie jumped back.

“I’m done.” There was no need for Audie to endanger himself anymore.

“What’s the matter?” Audie stared at the sketch I held in my hands, as if seeking to piece together the puzzle that had me stumped.

“It’s one of them.” I pointed to the group to the left of the saloon door.

Audie sucked in his breath when he saw my finger pointed at Dina’s name. “Cici.” This time his silky voice wrapped itself around my wounded heart and soothed the fear that crouched there, ready to spring into full-fledged panic.

“This isn’t any good. I need to talk with everybody who was in a position to make the shot.”

“Not without me! You have to promise to let me tag along.”

I smiled wearily. “I promise. But now I have to get back to work.” I checked my watch to confirm the time. A few minutes past two. “Why don’t we plan on paying a call on Mrs. Hardy after I close up shop today?”

Audie agreed. He leaned close as if to give me a kiss, but my face must have given me away. Not here. Not now. He smiled and said good-bye.

Jenna parked in front of my store as I crossed the street. “I hear you had quite a lunch with your actor friend.” She smirked at me while I unlocked the door.

“How did
you
hear about it?”

“Oh, the grapevine is alive and well.”

This was even worse than I had feared, if Jenna heard about our lunch already.

“Don’t worry. I walked into the Gulch for a cup of coffee”—she gestured with the cup she held in her hands—“and they asked me if our family had any news to announce. So give. What happened?”

I groaned. “Nothing. We drank a milkshake.”

“And?” Jenna wouldn’t let go.

“Do you mind if we don’t tell the world my private business?” I twisted the doorknob and walked inside.

Jenna followed me. “I’m waiting.”

“Audie held my hand. No big deal.”

“Aha! My little sister has finally plunged into the rivers of love.” She hugged me and danced in the direction of the hats on display along my front counter. “You better be careful. Before long they’ll be accusing you of two-timing Cord.”

“There’s nothing between Cord and me. There has never been anything serious.” Why did my heart protest as I said the words?

“I know that. You always followed the six-inch rule on your dates. But you know that townspeople have linked your names ever since you were born a month apart. Don’t you worry about that.” She twirled around and took my hands in hers, her hazel eyes searching my face. “But I suspect that Audie is a different matter. If I lived here, I might want him for myself.”

I blushed, thinking of the kiss we shared only last night.

Of course Jenna noticed. “I’m right! It’s about time you found someone for yourself.” She picked up a cloche and tried it on.

“Not that one.” I was glad for an excuse to get Jenna’s attention off of my romantic life. “I have just the hat for you.” I opened a hatbox and proudly displayed an original Hattie Carnegie creation. “As soon as I saw this, I thought of you.” Made from black velvet, tiny white beads dotted the top like stars, while a starburst eye blinked in the center.

Jenna gasped and put it on her head at an angle. She looked in the cosmetic mirror I kept on top of the glass case. “I’m Lucy!”

I smiled. Trust Jenna to know that Lucille Ball favored Hattie Carnegie creations. “Use these.” I handed her a couple of beaded hat pins. The flashy beads shone like rubies against her hair.

What a difference a hat can make.
A simple black hat transformed my sister from a twenty-first century standout to a 1940s-era vamp. Jenna turned her head and looked at herself from every angle.

“I’ll take it, of course.” Jenna dug in her purse for her credit card. I might give a bonnet to Enid Waldberg, but Jenna could afford to pay. She ordered from my store via the Internet from time to time. If I gave her everything she fancied, I’d go broke.

“I’ll give you the usual ten percent discount.” I rang up the purchase. “Do you want me to wrap it up for you?”

“No, thanks. I’ll wear it out the door.” Jenna signed the receipt. “I came in to say good-bye. I’ve already missed a day of work, and I’m on deadline.” Jenna had parlayed an interest in video games as a teenager into a lucrative career creating computer games. Since she moved to Taos, she also started dealing in contemporary western art. Successful in business if not love, she had always paid her own way, and Dina’s, too. Dina could go to any college she wanted.