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Authors: Connie Shelton

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BOOK: Gossip Can Be Murder
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Around the room, shoulders relaxed and breaths were expelled. I noticed for the first time that aside from Dr. Light the group were all women. The magnetic charisma worked, and they gravitated to him like metal shavings.

I settled back into my pillar and finally took a sip of the drink Linda had handed me. It was a curious combination of fruit and vegetable, with an undertaste of something else, vitamins probably. I rolled it around in my mouth and decided to go look for water. I’d seen a drinking fountain near the locker rooms and headed that way. The remainder of the drink went down the drain as I swished the glass with water. A good long sip took the rest of the taste out of my mouth.

“Not quite to your liking?”

I flinched.

Chapter 4

Drake brought the JetRanger in and worked to avoid the young guy who was attempting to guide him as he set his ship down in the landing zone set up by the job’s helicopter manager. They’d put in a long day and now the sun was nearly behind the mountain, casting an orange-gold glow over the forestry compound, making the Ponderosa pines appear nearly black in contrast.

Ridiculous, he thought, making eye contact with the guy holding the two useless batons. Government jobs. They always found someone who’d had a couple weeks training and assigned him to direct a pilot with twenty years experience. Charlie always teased him about his frustration. What was the point, she said, of getting angry at a bureaucracy. Just do the work and collect the money. She was right, of course.

He pulled the rotor brake and brought the slowly turning blades to a full stop, letting out a contented sigh as the engine noise subsided. No matter what a pain the government jerks could be, this was what it was truly all about. That feeling of control over the aircraft, that adrenalin buzz as you soared through the air. And not all the government guys were jerks. Three of the men in the local Pecos office were great guys, including the two who’d spent the day airborne with him counting elk in the high meadows. He felt sorry for Milo, who always got queasy after a few minutes of staring down through the trees from the circling helicopter. He would be better once his feet hit the ground. Drake would suggest they all go out for a beer after he finished shutting down and securing the aircraft.

A sharp tap on his side window grabbed his attention.

“Drake!” Ernie Pacheco called his name through the Plexiglas. “Call for you.” Ernie held up a pink message slip.

Drake felt his eyebrows pull together. It was unusual to get a call out in the field. Anyone wanting to schedule a new job would leave a message on his office machine, knowing that he would get back to them at night. Family would call his cell. He opened the door and took the note from Ernie. “Thanks.”

“Beer later?” Ernie asked.

Drake looked up from the note. “Huh? Sure. I was going to suggest that. Wait a sec.” He knew the number on the note. Charlie’s office in Albuquerque. Since she wasn’t there, it had to be Ron calling about that damn court case. He pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket, flipped it open and noted that there were two voice mails but no signal. “Ernie? Let’s plan on the Doble Seis for that beer. I’m buying.”

“Johnny has a cooler,” Ernie began, “but I guess it has to do with the message?”

“Yeah, I really ought to return this call.” Drake unfastened his harness and climbed out of the aircraft. Pulling the tie-down gear from the cargo hatch he looped the strap over the rotor and pulled it taut.

“I’ll see who wants to go,” Ernie said.

“Thanks, I really appreciate the ride.” It was always a hassle, being out of town without a vehicle, but that was the nature of the work. On longer jobs he had a buddy who drove along, bringing fuel and extra parts. But this one wasn’t supposed to take more than a couple of days, and the Santa Fe airport was near enough for refueling. He ducked into the men’s room at the forestry office—a relief after a full day at the stick, with only one quick break while he scarfed a sandwich at noon. Everyone else took an actual lunch hour, but for some reason they didn’t seem to think pilots needed to eat or pee. His breaks usually only came while the aircraft was being fueled.

Ernie’s pickup truck was parked beside the forestry building. Looked like Johnny and Milo had decided to come along. They were already sitting in the back seat.

They drove north on I-25 for about five miles to the nearest exit, easily spotted by the lighted sign depicting a pair of red dice showing sixes. The Doble Seis was the local bar, a tiny adobe building at a crossroads, run by a crusty old Spanish guy who’d probably been there since he was a kid and his father was the old guy serving up the beers. Drake opened his phone again, while the others headed inside. He had a good signal here—just that little difference between being along the Interstate or tucked back behind a ridge in the Sangre de Cristos. Both voice mails were from Ron.

“Order me a Tecate,” he told Ernie. “I’ll be right in.” He dialed, wondering whether Ron would still be at the office or if he’d already gone home for the day. He stared out to the west, where the sun sat on the horizon like a fat orange ball, the bottom edge of it going flat. Two rings and he heard Ron’s standard “Y’ello.”

“Hey, what’s up?” Drake asked his brother-in-law.

“Got a call from Rick Valdez,” Ron said without preamble.

“And?”

“They’re moving the date of your deposition up.”

“Crap.” It slipped out. “Sorry. I know I agreed to this.” Before I knew that the pilot in the crash was a friend.

“Yeah, you did.” Ron blew out a breath. “I mean, we all did. We took the case and managed to commit ourselves. None of us knew how long it would drag on.”

Drake forced himself to relax and tried to keep the tension out of his voice. It wouldn’t be a good idea to fracture family relationships. The current case had caused them all a lot of stress but he’d get through it.

“That’s okay,” he said. “Not your fault. Maybe moving things forward will get it all over with that much sooner.”

“Exactly.” Papers rustled as Ron undoubtedly searched through the usual mess on his desk. “I told Valdez that you were out on a job and they’d have to work around it.”

“Good. I’m not messing up my contract with Fish and Game, even though I’m getting decent money for this other thing.”

“They don’t expect you to. I’m supposed to call them back and let them know your schedule.”

“Two, maybe three more days here,” Drake told him. “Should be done by Wednesday, but maybe we better plan on Thursday.”

Ron made a sucking sound, like he was pulling air in through clenched teeth.

“Problem?”

“Well, I kinda let them believe that Wednesday would work out.”

Drake forced himself to count to three. “Okay. I’ll do my best. No promises, though. Can’t rush the government, you know. When all these elk are counted, they’re counted. The cheesy lawyers can hold on.” He wanted to make the point stronger than that, but held back.

“You want to tell Valdez, or shall I?”

“I’ll do it. Give me the number.”

“Thanks.” They ended the call before Ron could say anything about catering to the customer, keeping the lawyers pleased to earn their future business. Drake, frankly, didn’t give a damn. He’d quickly discovered that legal work was not his forte.

He dialed the number Ron gave him and got a voice mail system. After punching a few more numbers to get to Valdez’s personal mailbox, he left a message telling the man, truthfully, that he’d be subject to financial penalties if he left the forestry job early. Wednesday was a possibility but Thursday was the earliest he could promise. Sorry to be so vague, but after all they were the ones who’d moved the date forward. He kept the message polite and as positive as he could manage, then clicked off. He blew a sharp breath out and walked into the dimly lit bar.

He wanted one beer, just a relaxer, then he was eager to get back to his bunk for the night. He ought to call Charlie before he got back to the cell phone dead zone, but wasn’t sure whether he’d catch her. No doubt she and Linda were having a great time getting the spa treatment.

Chapter 5

I nearly dropped the glass into the drinking fountain. “Oh, Shirley. I . . .” I ran out of words.

“It’s okay. I can have Danielle pour the other flavor for you. That one’s pretty sweet.”

“No, really, it’s okay. I just haven’t had enough water today. You know how important that is.” I smiled stupidly.

“Oh, absolutely. And you’ll be happy to know that our water throughout the building is filtered for purity.”

I took another sip from the fountain. “Very good.” A thought flashed through my mind, back to this morning’s hastily chugged bowl of Coco Puffs and the fact that I had skipped lunch altogether. Maybe Linda had another motive in bringing me here, to convert me to a healthier lifestyle. I probably should take the program more seriously.

“Nice facilities,” I commented, putting my nice-face back on. “I peeked into a couple of the treatment rooms.”

Shirley flashed me a warm smile. “Linda told me you were a private investigator. It makes perfect sense that you would check out your surroundings.”

“I hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh, it’s fine. While you’re here, our home is your home. Do look around.”

“And that part about being a private investigator. That’s not exactly true.”

She tilted her head to one side.

“I’m a partner in an investigation agency. But I just handle the financial end of it.” Except that I often find myself going further than that, as evidenced by several close calls in recent years. “It’s become more of a sideline anyway. My husband owns a helicopter service and I help out there pretty often.”

A flash of interest. “You have quite an amazing life, don’t you?” she said.

“Well, it’s been fun, I have to admit.” I found myself sharing the details of how Drake and I met in Hawaii. She listened with interest and I felt a rapport building.

The tone of the voices in the front room changed in intensity and she pulled herself back to the present moment. “Guess I better get back to the group. Nice to chat with you,” she said. I followed her back to the spa lobby to find that Dr. Light had left and the crowd was dispersing. Linda stood near a big potted plant, looking around for me.

“I wasn’t sure if you were still here,” she said.

“Oh, yeah, just checking things out.” I briefly described the rest of the facility. “Take a peek, if you want. I’m sure Shirley won’t mind. I think I’ll head back to the room.”

She said she’d do the same. Once settled, I decided to give Ron a quick call since we hadn’t ended our last conversation on the best of terms. The phone rang four times and I glanced at my watch. After nine.

“Y’ello,” his voice finally said.

“Hey—just checking in. How’d the weekend go?” Keep it light, Charlie.

“Huh. Jason was feeling better by the time we met up with Bernadette, but of course all three boys blabbed about how much junk they ate at the fair and how sick he’d been. I got the usual devil-glare from her.”

I made sympathetic noises—I’ve seen Bernadette’s devil-glare—then filled him in on everything I’d done at the office this morning, letting him know that I wasn’t shirking my duties.

“I talked to Drake awhile ago. His deposition is set for this week. He didn’t sound happy about it.”

“He’s not looking forward to being grilled. Nobody would.”

“It’s more than that.”

“When he started the investigation he didn’t know Mike Walters was the pilot. And he’s putting together some new evidence. Take a look at the notes in the folder.”

“Charlie, I know how he feels about this case. But he can’t back out on us now. He offered to help with the research and now we’re getting down to where we need his expertise.”

“I know that. He knows that. He’ll be there.” Not exactly with bells on, but I know my husband. He’s nothing if not reliable.

A half-minute of silence from Ron. I could hear the wheels churning. He’d earned his living and built a career on poking into other people’s dirty little secrets. He wasn’t above snapping pictures of people in compromising situations, and he certainly wasn’t above working with shady law firms in proving a case. Graham and Valdez weren’t a bad firm, they just latched onto a lot of big-money cases that often put good people in a bad light. I knew this was really at the heart of Drake’s attitude.

 “Well, you know where I am.” I said. “Anything you want me to check out in Santa Fe, give me a call.” We hung up.

Linda came out of the bathroom. “Problem?”

I shrugged. “Brother versus husband. It’ll resolve itself soon.” There wasn’t much else to say.

By the time I finished my bedtime routine in the bathroom she was deep into a book and I could barely keep my eyes open.

Chapter 6

When the alarm went off at six-thirty the next morning I found I’d spent the night mulling over Drake’s upcoming deposition through a series of strange dreams that included my own heart-thumping experience in our simulated crash. I sat up in bed and gazed around the murky pre-dawn room. Nothing to be gained by fretting over it. I decided I would do my best to get into the spirit of the coming seminars and give Linda the help I’d promised.

My roommate was not an early riser. She groaned at the sound of the alarm and rolled over. I decided to grab first use of the bathroom, so I snagged a clean set of clothes and headed that way. By the time I’d showered, dressed, and dried my hair Linda was sitting on the edge of her bed. Her blond curls stuck out at odd angles and her face was puffy with sleep.

“Good morning, Mary Sunshine,” I greeted in a sing-song voice.

She threw a pillow at me. “I hate that phrase. My mother used it on me every day of the week, including Saturday and Sunday,” she growled.

“I know. I remember you throwing pillows at her too.” I laughed and tossed the pillow back. “I’m finished in the bathroom.”

She stood up and tugged her oversized T-shirt over her thighs as she shuffled toward the open doorway.

I located an in-room coffee service in a small alcove near the door and started the process for some wake-up brew. I wasn’t sure how this whole nutrition program would go, but I couldn’t live without my daily caffeine jolt. A few minutes later I poured two cups, slipping one of them onto the vanity in the steamy bathroom. Behind the shower curtain, Linda dropped a heavy plastic bottle and cursed. She wasn’t always dimples and grins.

BOOK: Gossip Can Be Murder
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