Peril by Ponytail (A Bad Hair Day Mystery) (17 page)

“In today’s market, copper is highly valued. Some of those old mines might still have viable ore deposits.” Dalton led her toward their car, which he’d parked at city hall. They traversed some of the narrow back streets as a shortcut. Electric wires were strung overhead, an anomaly against the stark blue sky.

“These days, the open pit technique is preferred over hard-rock mining. It’s more cost efficient even though it ruins the land. And yet the underground mines produce better quality copper, according to what I’ve read. Some of those mines are being reopened. Other minerals that are found along with copper could prove more valuable.”

“I suppose those other elements are separated out during the refinement process?”

Marla nodded, feeling the warmth of the sun penetrate her back through her short-sleeved top. “Copper was processed at stamp mills. First the ore went through crushing machines and then powerful stamps broke it into smaller chunks. From there it went to the refinery, where chemicals melted the ore into a paste. This mixture was put into steam-heated pans where the precious minerals separated from the rocks. Coal-burning boilers produced the steam and provided power.”

“So the stamp mill was separate from the refinery?”

“It could be, or they might be in the same place but in different buildings.”

“Didn’t we hear the mill for these mines had been located on Lovelace’s property?”

“He probably tore it down before building his bottling plant.” She gave a startled glance ahead. “Speak of the devil, there he is.”

Two men stood speaking on a street corner in front of a house with a sign out front. Marla recognized Otto Lovelace’s pudgy frame. The other guy appeared younger, with jet black hair and an angry stance. As she and Dalton neared, Marla read the business sign. It belonged to an accountant. Had the two of them come from there?

Otto recognized her with the precision of a man who memorized the features of each person he met. A flicker of displeasure crossed his face but it was quickly replaced by an expansive smile. “Mrs. Vail, how delightful.”

“Hello, Mr. Lovelace. This is my husband, Dalton. I was just telling him we should take you up on the offer to tour your plant.”

Otto indicated the other man, scowling at them as though annoyed they’d interrupted an important discussion. “This is Tate Reardon, our general manager. Tate, I understand Mrs. Vail is writing a blog article. She had some questions about plant operations, so I invited her to come see the facility for herself.”

“I’d be happy to show you around,” Reardon said in a stiff tone. He wore a navy sport coat with a blue and silver striped tie and midnight blue pants.

In contrast to his formality, Otto wore an open-neck shirt and belted trousers that appeared European in style. He pulled out a pocket watch and checked the time.

“It’s nearly cocktail hour, Tate. I have to get home.”

“Is your wife waiting for you?” Marla asked, wanting to learn more about him.

“I’m not married. Solitude is preferable, since most people don’t appreciate the value of time. Every minute in our lives is precious. We must be precise in following our daily routines, or life slips away.”

“That’s true. How about you, Mr. Reardon?”

“I live with my wife, Eleanor, and our daughter.”

Marla didn’t mention her encounter with Christine at the nutrition clinic, but she wondered if Annie had made an appointment to speak to the girl’s mother as planned.

“Why are you concerned about us?” Lovelace swept his hand in a broad gesture. “You two are on your honeymoon. What brings you into town this time?”

“I went to the library to read up on the mining process,” she said, glancing at Dalton.

His lips pressed together in his agreed-upon signal for her to continue. He let her lead the conversation while he looked for tells, or indications the men were lying. They worked well as a team that way.

“It’s a fascinating history lesson, is it not? Life back then was a hardship.” Lovelace shook his head in pretended sympathy. “No electricity. Miners had to work by candlelight and hammer their drills into the rock. Things are much easier today, except for the long hours.”

“I read that the open pit technique is the preferred method these days.”

“In most cases, but certain minerals are only obtainable below ground.”

“I looked up real estate titles at city hall,” Dalton said in a casual tone.

Lovelace gave him a sharp glance. “Is that right? And what did you learn?”

“That when you buy a piece of property here, the rights extend underground to a certain degree. That is, if nobody else steps in to stake a mining claim.”

Lovelace’s face darkened, and Reardon jabbed an elbow in his side. “You’ll be late for your gin and tonic, Otto. You’d better go. I’ll expect that information I requested on my desk by tomorrow morning.”

“I told you what you wanted to know.”

“That’s not enough. I want documentation.”

“I said it’ll take more time.”

Reardon snickered. “Time is one commodity you can’t control, despite your attempts to do so. It’s tomorrow or else.”

Marla’s scalp prickled at his words. How dare he bark orders at his boss? What hold did he have over the man to threaten him?

“Man, I could use a drink after our discovery on the mountain,” she said to defuse the situation, fanning herself as though hot and weary. Dalton didn’t move a muscle, doubtless eager to see what would happen next.

“You went hiking?” Reardon glanced at their boots, dusty from their efforts. “It can be dangerous on these hills if you’re not familiar with the territory.”

Garrett Long’s familiarity with the area didn’t help him.
“We explored the hillside above the ghost town and discovered the worker who’d disappeared. Didn’t you see the helicopter?”

“What?” the other two men said in unison, staring at her.

“Eduardo fell down a hole, evidently a collapsed ventilation shaft left from the mining days. The poor man is dead. He must have broken his neck upon impact.”

“That’s horrible.” Reardon’s face paled.

“I imagine the surface caved in. It makes you wonder what’s beneath the town my uncle is renovating,” Dalton said, raising his eyebrows.

“People should steer clear of the mountains around these parts.” Lovelace’s mouth curved downward. “They’re full of hazards.”

“Rescue personnel lifted the body out with the helicopter. I wonder what else they saw below. It appears the shaft connected to the old tunnel system,” Marla added.

“Whatever existed of historical value would have been removed when the mines were closed, so I doubt anything worthwhile remains. The entrance was sealed off for a reason. Don’t think of going down there,” Lovelace warned in a blustery tone.

“I understand the old stamp mill sat on what’s now your property. Did you tear it down before building your bottling facility?”

“Naturally. What would I want with a dilapidated place like that?”

“It must have been an immense, dirty old structure with lots of rusty machinery.” She stared into the distance at the barely visible white plume in the sky. “I wonder what color smoke it produced.”

Lovelace glowered at her. “I wouldn’t know, Mrs. Vail. I haven’t studied the ore separation process.”

“Oh, but I have. The miners would have had a changing room near the main staging area. Did you come across that place when you bought your property? Would you believe they only washed their work clothes once a week? Ugh, it must have stunk in there.”

“I’m glad you find the region’s history so compelling. What did you say your blog was titled?”

“That’s not the only reason we’re interested,” Dalton said, catching on. “My Uncle Ray has run into a few snags with his ghost town project, and he’s asked us to help straighten things out while we’re here.”

“You’re related to Ray Campbell? Good luck to him. If he’s hired immigrants to do the work, he’ll have his hands full.”

That’s a biased statement.
Marla wanted to call him on it but didn’t.

Lovelace gave a slight bow. “Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s nearly time for my nightly restorative. One mustn’t break with routine, or havoc will ensue.”

“Of course.” Marla smiled at the men. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Reardon. I’ll look forward to a guided tour at the bottling plant. I imagine it’s close to the source? I heard you pay the city for a certain amount of natural spring water each month.”

“That is so.” The guy hadn’t once cracked a smile. “I hope you folks have a good visit while you’re in town.” His scornful glance indicated he took Dalton for a harmless tourist, but then Dalton’s casual attire and silly grin would reinforce that belief. Her husband could play act when necessary.

She loved that about him. Hooking her arm into his as they strolled along later, she told him so. “You were great. What did you gather from that meeting?”

Her gaze lit on the landscape as they headed toward their car. She still couldn’t get used to the lack of grass, and yet that made for a quieter neighborhood. No lawn mowers, weed trimmers, or leaf blowers making a racket.

“Those two are at odds about something. We should go tour that plant. It might be enlightening. I should have asked Love-lace why armed guards patrol his perimeter.”

“He could be afraid of eco-terrorists as the sheriff suggested.”

“Perhaps. Or he has something to hide. By the way, I’m not the only one interested in town records. Jesse Parker has been to city hall recently. I saw his name on the visitor list.”

“Really? I wonder what he was researching?”

“Me, too. Why would a wrangler be involved in these affairs?”

Dalton’s phone rang. He glanced at the caller I.D. before answering. “Hey, how’s it going, cuz?” A pause. “Sure, we’d be delighted.” Covering the mouthpiece, he addressed Marla. “Is it okay if we go to dinner at Wayne’s house? He says Uncle Ray and Annie will be there. She’s cooking dinner to give Carol a rest. We can drive over directly from here.”

Her musings about Jesse Parker evaporated. “That would be nice, if they won’t mind the way we’re dressed. We don’t have time to change.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it.” Dalton confirmed their invite and then hung up. “I got the impression Wayne wants us there for support. Uncle Ray is disheartened by today’s events.”

“I don’t blame him. Another death in the area? It makes you want to believe the ghost stories. Maybe his project is cursed.”

“Or maybe somebody wants it to seem that way to scare off his work force.”

“The laborers might not have heard about the forest ranger.”

“My experience is that news travels fast in these small communities. It
is
strange that both men experienced a fatal fall, though.”

“No one else could have known a ventilation shaft was there. Eduardo’s death seems more likely to have been an accident.”

“You could be right.” He took her hand in his large palm. “At any rate, let’s try to relax and enjoy the evening.”

Raymond was in a sour mood when he greeted them inside Carol’s kitchen. “Come and join me for a beer. My project has another delay, so I might as well take advantage.”

“By drinking yourself into a stupor?” Annie, bringing over a plate of cheese and crackers, clucked her tongue. “You’ve had two bottles already. What’s eating you, Dad? You’re not responsible for the guy’s death.”

“Huh, that’s easy for you to say. As his employer, I could be held liable.”

“So? You have insurance.”

“I know what’s bothering you. It’s those mining tunnels, isn’t it?” Dalton leaned against a counter. “They bring back bad memories.”

Raymond popped open a bottle top and took a long gulp. “The sheriff said they’d probably release the fellow’s body by Sunday. I notified his next of kin.”

“That’s never an easy job. It’s one I’ve often had to do myself. But you didn’t answer my question. Tell us about your brother Harold and how he died in a mine.”

A dish clattered, and Carol’s gasp echoed throughout the room.

“Wayne, get in here,” Dalton called. “You’ll want to hear this. Carol, are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” she said as Wayne joined them.

Marla was glad Carol didn’t seem any worse from her tumble off the horse. She looked a bit pale and moved more slowly but otherwise appeared well enough.

Raymond’s gaze radiated pain as he regarded them all, standing and staring at him. Fortunately, the kids were playing in a back room so the adults had time alone. Marla agreed they had to clear the air. It was the only way to mend their broken fences.

“We learned what happened to your younger brother,” she said in a kind tone. “It was an accident.”

“Dad, what’s she talking about?” Wayne said, his voice rising. “I had an uncle? Is this why we don’t have any of your early family pictures, because you didn’t want me to know?”

“I imagine the memories are too painful for him,” Dalton said in a wry tone. “Do you want to tell him, Uncle Ray, or should I?”

“Come, let’s sit down.” Raymond’s shoulders slumped as he deflated like a balloon. “It’s a long story and not a happy one.”

Annie turned off the oven and followed them into the family room, where they took seats on the couch and the barstools. Raymond hung his head and twisted his hands together as he repeated the story Dr. Harrigan had told Marla and Dalton.

“You can’t blame Hugh Donovan, Dad.” Wayne put a hand on his father’s knee. “You were both kids at the time. Things like that are bound to happen.”

Raymond’s eyes glistened. “I should have listened to Kate. She ran to get help, but by the time she returned, it was too late. I’d favored Hugh over my own brother. It’s my fault he died.”

“You weren’t responsible then, and you are not responsible now for that workman’s death or the explosion at Craggy Peak.”

“Kate still doesn’t talk about me, does she?”

“No, but then you’ve never made any attempt to reconcile with her,” Dalton said. “Maybe after all this time, she’d offer forgiveness. But you need to forgive yourself first.”

Silence fell heavily over them. Marla sought words of comfort. She’d been through a similar guilt trip but had survived and used the experience to better herself.