Red Hot Murder: An Angie Amalfi Mystery (12 page)

But she’d made it clear over the years why nothing could happen between them. He respected her reasons and knew that if he ever managed to break through her will, the end result would only be that he’d lose her.

She was always the strong one in the past. This time, it was his turn.

“I’ll be waiting,” he said as he walked toward the door. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Angie wasn’t in a good mood. She’d spent the entire afternoon and evening—including dinner at
Merritt’s—with Buster. As she told him about shopping at Bergdorf Goodman, Barney’s, and Saks, he was like a man dying of thirst who’d just found artesian springs. For her, it was boring.

When Paavo finally did show up, he was in far too happy a state of mind to suit Angie. His evening had been spent with some snake oil salesman who had nothing better to do than ply him with “medicine” and tell stories about Jackpot. Angie wasn’t impressed.

But at least he’d found Ned’s cell phone and saddlebags. The morning before Ned’s death a call had been made, which Caller ID showed was from “Hal Edwards.” That was the last phone call Ned ever answered.

When Angie and Paavo finally returned to the guest ranch, they discovered that the phones in the common room and the dining room—and most likely in several other locations throughout the ranch—all had two lines, a public one and a secondary number. The secondary line had been used to call Ned. Anyone could have used it—anyone who worked there, or anyone who visited.

The common room was empty as they checked the phone numbers, but Angie couldn’t shake off an eerie feeling of being watched. “It’s just the ostriches,” Paavo said. “Those birds have you spooked. They have nothing to do all day but eat and watch us. Don’t worry about it.”

“I think the one with the cowlick has a crush on you,” Angie said, forcing a laugh. “It’s always nearby.”

He wasn’t amused.

Since Paavo hadn’t had dinner, and admitted the
so-called medicine was doing him more harm than good, Angie had him join her in the cookhouse where she made him a cheese and chorizo omelet, toast, and iced tea. He felt a lot better after eating.

As they walked back to their bungalow, the feeling Angie had of being watched grew stronger with each step. Paavo seemed oblivious, though.

It’s not the ostriches,
she told herself. Looking around the dark plaza, it was empty. That was the problem, she realized; the plaza was absolutely dark. Usually, until midnight, floodlights brightened the fountain. “Why aren’t the lights on?” she whispered.

“Maybe Lionel doesn’t want to waste money on electricity when we’re the only guests,” Paavo said.

“He doesn’t want us here,” Angie murmured. “He keeps trying to scare me.”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of. And you don’t have to whisper.” He unlocked the door to the bungalow and pushed it open.

Angie walked in as Paavo switched on the lights. Afterward, they realized the door must have hit a spring release lever. At the time, though, all Angie knew was that as she entered the room something long, scaly, and ropelike fell from the ceiling onto her head and shoulders.

It was a rattlesnake, so recently killed it was still pliant and flexible. It dangled from a bungee cord attached to the ceiling, bounding up and down, and seeming to wriggle about as if alive.

Angie nearly fainted from fright. If Lionel was the one who was trying to scare her into leaving, he’d just succeeded.

It was the day of the funeral.

Angie headed for the kitchen, where she was going to bake a traditional favorite, a chocolate bourbon pecan pie, for the reception at the Flores’s home after the funeral. With this hard-drinking town, the dash of bourbon in the pie would probably be appreciated.

And after the snake episode, the reason why the town was so hard drinking was becoming ever clearer. In fact, she was sorely tempted to join the boozers herself.

Last night, she was still loudly telling Paavo what she’d like to do to whoever put the snake in their room when Joey and Lionel ran over to find out what all the commotion was about. They denied any knowledge of what had been done, and both swore pranksters from town liked to play tricks like that on visitors. Looked like the work of teenagers, they insisted. Harmless, they swore. The snake was dead, wasn’t it?

Lionel then pointed out that if Angie was too upset to stay, he’d refund their money.

The smirk on Lionel’s face as he said that was all it took to get Angie to change her mind about leaving. Paavo, in fact, was the one she had to work hardest to convince to let her stay.

Now, she detoured to the common room for a cup of coffee. Joey was inside, his face flushed, his eyes glassy as if he’d already been drinking more than coffee that morning—or was nursing a horrendous hangover.
“Hola!”
he called, lifting his cup as if in salute. “Seen any snakes lately? Or tarantulas?”

“Very funny,” Angie said as she served herself, wondering how he’d heard about the spider. “Are you going to the funeral?”

“I don’t think I’d be welcome.” His demeanor turned glum. “Poor bastard.”

Angie decided baking a pie could wait a few minutes, and sat near Joey. “Did you know Ned well?” She didn’t bother to ask if he knew Ned at all, as she truly believed everyone knew everyone else in this town.

“Of course. I went to school here until I was fourteen. Then my parents divorced and I moved to California.”

Angie remembered Buster making reference to Joey and Teresa. Looking at Joey now, Angie was even more certain that Buster was completely wrong, but some innate curiosity made her ask, “Do you think Ned and Teresa Flores would have gotten married?”

“Does it matter?” His face tightened.

“Just curious,” Angie explained, then drank more coffee before saying, “it must be hard for you being here, first losing your father, and then a friend.”

“Ned and I weren’t exactly friends,” he said. “And I hardly knew my father.” He downed his cup, and before Angie could say another word, he left the room.

Paavo had insisted on driving Doc to the funeral. This was the kind of day the doctor would get through by doing a fair amount of self-medicating, and Paavo didn’t want him behind the wheel of a car.

They stopped at the Flores home. Doc wanted to escort the women to the church, and Angie wanted to drop off her pie. A few people were already there to leave flowers and food dishes.

“It’s so wonderful to have another gourmet cook in town!”

Paavo turned as the sound of LaVerne Merritt’s voice cut through the room.

“I brought something special,” LaVerne was saying to Angie as she held up a Saran-wrapped Pyrex container. “You’ll have to be sure to try it.”

“What is it?” Angie asked.

“Javelina-noodle casserole.” LaVerne beamed.

Others immediately began to walk away. Far away. Several left.

“What’s a javelina?” Angie asked.

“It’s kind of like a skinny pig,” LaVerne said. “We have all kinds of pigs and wild boars in the area, you know.”

“They’re black and bristly,” Paavo added, “with
tusks. They’re ugly things. Some people call them musk hogs.”

“I think I get the picture.” The dismay on Angie’s face left him no doubt that she did.

“It’s delicious. Just like pork.” LaVerne licked her lips. “Wait until you try it! Lupe, can I refrigerate it?”

“Yes, of course,” Lupe replied.

“I hope LaVerne’s javelina is better than her goat cheesecake,” Paavo whispered.

“I’d rather not find out!” Angie added, just as all talking in the room ceased. Even LaVerne stopped in her tracks.

At the door stood Joey Edwards, looking in not much better condition than when Angie last saw him.

No one said a word to him. His gaze searched the room until he found Teresa. With no more than a nod to the others, he approached her.

Lupe immediately left Doc’s side and stepped between them. If her eyes were daggers, Joey would be dead.

Teresa put a hand on Lupe’s arm, stopping her. Teresa then walked out the patio door to the garden, Joey close behind.

Lupe watched them, her face thunderous.

LaVerne interrupted. “Lupe, there’s a problem with your mother. She’s in the kitchen.”

Lupe and Doc hurried to Maritza, Angie and Paavo following. “What’s wrong?” Lupe asked.

“There’s something … I can’t remember,” Maritza said, head bowed and resting her hand heavily against the sink. “I try, but …”

“Sit down.” Doc slid a chair beside her.

“I’m sorry,” Maritza said, as tears filled her eyes.

Lupe stooped low, eye level with her mother. “Sorry for what? What’s the matter?”

Instead of answering her, Maritza gazed up at Doc. “Hal come. He talk to me. He give me something.”

“When was this?” Doc asked.

Maritza’s face contorted in thought. “Yesterday. No, not yesterday, but soon.”

“She’s confused.” Lupe stood and patted her mother’s shoulder. “All this.” Lupe haphazardly waved her arm, clearly referring to the recent deaths. “The last time my mother saw Hal was at least five years ago.”

“Poor Hal. Poor Ned,” Maritza began to cry harder.

“I think it might be best if she stays home,” Doc said softly. Lupe nodded.

“I want you to lie down, Mama,” Lupe murmured. “This is too much for you. You stay here and keep an eye on the food. We’ll be back soon.”

“No. I should come. For Ned.”

Doc took Maritza’s arm and slowly walked her to her bedroom. “Ned wouldn’t want you getting sick. You rest at home. He’d understand, I’m sure.”

Maritza nodded and lay down on her bed, her tears had stopped, but her expression was dazed. Lupe kissed her cheek and walked out, quietly shutting the door behind her.

Teresa was alone in the living room, her eyes wide with worry.

Lupe stared hard at her a moment, then turned to Doc. “Let’s go to the church now.”

Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, a small version of the classic adobe and wood missions of the Southwest, held an aura of permanence and serenity. To one side of the church was a building that might be a school or large meeting hall. Set back on the other side was Father Armand’s rectory. The mission wasn’t directly in town, but slightly above it in the foothills, a rustic setting with a vista of the Colorado River.

The day was overcast and chilly. A film of gray covered the sun and made the surroundings as somber and glum as the people who filed into the church. They came from the town, the lake, and the reservation. Angie was amazed at how many knew who she and Paavo were. People she hadn’t met told Paavo that they remembered when he came to Jackpot as a boy and would play with Ned while “the Finnish man” visited Doc.

Paavo seemed surprised and touched by their memories. He spoke movingly with them about Ned. More than one strongly hinted they were glad “a real detective” was in town. Although the sheriff had swept Hal Edwards’s death under the rug, everyone knew she couldn’t do that with Ned’s.

Inside the church, gardenias, hyacinths, and carnations surrounded the altar. Candles had been lit and incense burned. Paavo scrutinized the crowd, his face hard, looking much like a detective searching for a suspect. Merry Belle hovered near the door as if ready at a moment’s notice to rush off in her Hummer in case there was an outbreak of crime in Jackpot.

Buster was near his aunt, and when Angie noticed him, he was watching her. He raised his hand, waggling his fingers in a slight wave in her direction. She nodded back. He pointed to her navy blue Oscar de la Renta suit and gave two thumbs up. Despite herself, she smiled.

She and Paavo remained in the back, not wanting to intrude on those who had been close to Ned all these years.

Doc was seated in the front row of the church with Lupe on his left and Teresa on his right. Behind him was Doc’s good friend, Joaquin Oldwater. Father Armand, a young priest who Doc had introduced earlier to Angie, was speaking quietly to the little group, offering consolation.

The two fishermen Angie had seen the first day she was in town, the ones LaVerne had called FBI, stood in the back of the church, perusing the crowd much as Paavo was doing. LaVerne was probably right. Just who did they think they were kidding?

Angie then searched for people from the guest ranch, but didn’t see anyone until Junior pushed his way through the crowd. As unkempt as ever, he stared hard at the mourners in the front row, then took a seat.

It seemed the whole town had turned out except those from the guest ranch. It was odd that Clarissa didn’t have the sense to get herself and Joey there, or at least Lionel. If, as she’d said, she wanted the town to accept Joseph as Hal’s heir and new neighbor, someone should have had the decency to show up.

The service began. But halfway through, the
peace of the church was broken by the town’s fire siren, its loud wail an ominous call for the volunteer fire department to gather.

Suddenly, Merry Belle’s voice boomed out, “Fire! Main Street is burning!”

Merry Belle probably didn’t mean to cause a commotion, but she had. As one, people rose from their seats, frantic.

“Go,” Father Armand told them. “I will finish here.”

Immediately, everyone streamed from the church. Some were volunteers who helped the town’s two professional firemen; others were townspeople with businesses in the area. Whatever the reason, a problem for one was a problem for all. An unchecked fire in the dry desert could spread quickly

“It’s near our restaurant, or at it!” Teresa cried, a catch in her throat, as she scanned the horizon.

“
Dios!
We’ve got to go!” Lupe hurried to her car. Doc got in beside her while Teresa climbed into the back.

“We’ll follow,” Paavo said. He took Angie’s arm and they hurried across the parking lot. Fishing in his trouser pocket for his car keys to no avail, he realized he must have put them in his sports jacket pocket. He reached in, and found more than car
keys. Lifting out a small piece of paper, he read, bad grammar and all …

Ned Paulson killed Hal Edwards. So he had to die. Keep your nose out or your next.

Teresa had been right about the fire’s location. Smoke streamed from the back of the restaurant.

Lupe and the others arrived in time to see the firefighters carry her mother out on a stretcher. Maritza was unconscious, apparently from smoke inhalation.

Lupe nearly fainted at the sight and tried to follow, but Doc reminded her of her other duties. She quickly steadied herself and asked Doc to take care of her mother. He got into the ambulance with the paramedics.

Fortunately, the damage to the restaurant wasn’t as bad as it first appeared. None of the workers were inside; they’d all gone to the funeral service. Lupe’s office was burned, and the fire had just reached the kitchen when the fire truck arrived.

Lupe’s responsibility to check on her workers’ safety done, she left Teresa to deal with all that was happening in the restaurant, and headed for the medical clinic.

Seeing how distraught Lupe was, Angie stopped her and insisted on driving. Paavo would stay at the restaurant with Teresa and try to learn what had caused the fire.

“Do you have any idea what your mother was doing there?” Angie asked Lupe as she drove. “I thought she was staying at the house?”

“It’s crazy!” Lupe cried. “She’s never wandered off before without telling me. Never!”

“She seemed confused earlier,” Angie pointed out.

“She’s been troubled by something lately, but can’t say what it is. She easily remembers things that happened twenty years ago, but last week is another story. Sometimes, she doesn’t remember that Ned is dead, or Hal. I try to watch her, Angie.” Lupe fought to control her emotions. “I really do. She’s never done anything like this before. I wonder if she caused the fire.”

Angie had wondered that as well. “Your office seemed to be where the fire started. If it was in the kitchen, that would make sense, but it wasn’t.”

“I agree,” Lupe whispered. “It makes it look like, whatever happened, it was deliberate.”

“Gasoline.” Fire Chief Manny Gonzalez walked up to Merry Belle. Paavo and Teresa were with her. “Looks like somebody wanted to destroy the office.”

“Where was Maritza found?” Paavo asked after introducing himself to Gonzales.

“In the hallway between the office and the kitchen. She must have been overcome by smoke and collapsed. The gas canister was at her side.”

“You’re saying she might have done it?” Merry Belle asked.

“That’s crazy!” Teresa cried.

“Hard to imagine, but if her prints are on the can …” He didn’t need to complete the sentence.

“Or, someone set things up to look that way,” Paavo offered.

“Anything’s possible.” The chief looked over the building and shook his head. “I can’t believe
Maritza would want to destroy her own restaurant. I’ve gone to that place my entire life. The whole town has.”

There was a problem. Angie could see it on Doc’s face as he crossed the waiting room of the medical clinic where Maritza had been brought. Angie and Lupe stood as he approached.

“It’s not only smoke inhalation,” he said. “Someone hit her. Her skull’s been fractured, and she’s in a coma.”

“Like Ned,” Angie whispered.

“Not exactly.” Doc’s expression was grim. “Whoever did it didn’t want her dead—they probably hoped the fire would do that, and make us look no further for a cause of death.”

“Why?” Lupe looked ready to pass out. Doc had her sit, and Angie got her some water, but neither could answer her question. “How is she?”

“It’s a simple fracture,” Doc said. “No surgery will be needed unless she develops an intracranial hematoma. I’m going to go back with the doctors. I want to observe as she undergoes tests.”

Lupe looked at him blankly.

“It’ll be a long wait.”

She nodded, and watched Doc leave.

Angie sat beside Lupe. “None of this makes sense,” Angie said softly. “Why would anyone do this to your family?”

“I don’t understand it either,” Lupe said.

“If there’s anything I can do …” Angie began.

“No, but thank you for staying with me now, and for being there for Doc,” Lupe said as her gaze traveled to the door to the medical offices where
Doc had gone. “I appreciate you and Paavo being with him through all this. He’s a good man.”

“I think so.” Angie hesitated to say more, but then added, “In fact, it’s so obvious that you two care deeply about each other, I’m surprised you aren’t an item.”

“An item? Such an old-fashioned word to be coming from you.” Lupe forced a smile before her face turned serious. “I guess no one’s ever told you … I’m married.”

“Married?” Angie was stunned. “I’m sorry … I mean, I assumed you were divorced or … I mean, your last name … and Teresa’s.”

Lupe folded her hands on her lap. “I understand. Legally, I am divorced. He divorced me, in fact, and I must admit I’m glad he no longer has any legal claim over me or my belongings. I didn’t want anything to do with him, not even his name. Teresa felt the same. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m one of those old-fashioned Catholics who believes I married for life. Talk about strange, right?” Her eyes, even as she spoke those words, were calm. “I take my faith seriously, Angie. Some say too seriously—but God has sustained me through many harsh, bitter days. I will not turn my back on him.”

Angie’s mother was also a very traditional Roman Catholic—strict, one might say—in her beliefs. Angie understood what Lupe was saying.

“Where is your husband?” she asked gently.

“He’s here, in Jackpot. He’s here when he’s not in jail, or alcoholic rehab for the umpteenth time. His life is a mess, Angie, and after years trying to straighten him out, I finally gave up.”

“I see.”

“His name is Sherman Whitney, but everyone calls him Junior.”

Angie couldn’t believe it. “Junior … who works out at the Ghost Hollow Guest Ranch?”

“Yes. He and Lionel went to school together. Since Lionel took over the guest ranch, he lets Junior work out there when Junior’s on the wagon. Then, when he falls off, Lionel fires him, and the cycle starts all over again. At least when he’s working he doesn’t come bothering me for money.”

Angie thought of the raggedy fellow who poked ostriches with mop handles. “You give him money?”

“I can’t let him starve, can I?” Lupe asked.

Might not be such a tragedy, Angie thought. She was curious about Lupe and Junior. “I guess Junior wasn’t always the way he is now.”

“I thought he had promise,” Lupe admitted, “though my mother never saw it.” At the mention of Maritza, Lupe bowed her head and paused a moment before continuing. “Anyway, Junior worked in his father’s cantaloupe business, but when it fell on hard times, Junior was no help. If anything, he was a hindrance. Finally, Sherman Senior sold what remained of the business to Hal Edwards, and left town.”

“Hal was involved in cantaloupes?” Angie asked.

“Hal was involved in everything,” Lupe said wryly. “Junior liked to say Hal had robbed his father, but it wasn’t true—Junior did.”

“So Junior disliked Hal?”

“Hated him. He always said he knew Hal’s dirty little secrets, and that Hal had better think twice about disrespecting his family.”

“What did he mean?”

“Who knows? He’s a blowhard. All talk, no substance.”

“Does Junior see much of Teresa?”

Lupe shook her head. “He was never a father to her, though, in his way, he cares about her. I’ve always wondered if Junior isn’t the reason she’s so resistant about love.” Tears filled Lupe’s eyes as she said, “I feel so bad about her, as if I failed in the way I raised her. Because, even though it didn’t work out for me, Angie, at one time in my life I truly did love him. I’ll always have that, and because of it, Teresa. I wish she could understand the way I feel. Unfortunately, she never has. And I doubt she ever will.”