Desert Heat (4 page)

 
“You knew him?” Mallory asked, surprised. For
some reason she’d thought Mike was the only person here acquainted with her
dad.

 
“Sure. We all did. Well, not well,” Shelby
admitted. “But we all saw him around.
Probably Dianna more
than the rest of us.”

Turning
toward the other woman, Mallory asked, “Why’s that?”

 
“She’s the
rec
-direct.”
Alan laughed. “It’s her job to be a busybody. And she’s good at it.”

 
“I don’t understand.” Mallory felt awkward,
out of the loop. She twisted the cold beer in her hands. These people had known
her father. A bite of jealousy stung her and she tried to hide it. Here were
the people who could answer her questions.

 
“Simple.” Brent joined the conversation. “Alan
means Dianna’s title is the Recreation Director here at the ranch. Her job is
to keep our guests happy.”

 
“Oh, I understand now.” Mallory looked at
Dianna again. Now that he mentioned it, she did look like a P.E. teacher or a
gymnast. Short, bulky, not fat but built like a square. Even her chin-length
haircut framed a box-shaped face. “During your duties you ran into my father?
Did you speak to him?”

 
“Once or twice,” Dianna admitted. “We didn’t
socialize, if that’s what you mean. I was too busy to shoot the breeze with a
vagrant. Before we all lost our jobs, I was busy anyway.”

 
“Dianna.” Mike’s tone was hard. “Mallory’s
father just died. Remember that.”

 
“Sorry,” she said, obviously not meaning it.
Her eyes were mean.

 
“We’re going to save The Cholla. If it’s the
last thing I do.” Mike’s features hardened, like his words. “No one’s going to
take our home without a fight.”

Mallory
shivered at his tone. Was her imagination working overtime or did he sound
ominous? He was too nice to be dangerous. Not all criminals looked like devils.
His victims had thought him safe, too. Her appetite dimmed.

 
“Now, let’s eat.” Mike waved a spatula. “Help
yourselves.”

For
the next few minutes they filled their plates and settled around a picnic
table. Alan and Shelby snuggled on the end, Mike across from them, Dianna
squeezed between him and Mallory. Brent sat across from her. A thin frame to
the point of skeletal and shadowed eyes suggested he wasn’t well. Had he shaved
his head, or had illness made it bald?

 
“You are all employed here?” Mallory asked
them.

A
long silence met her question.

 
“Yes, they are,” Mike said finally. “But we’re
friends first. We all met at U of A. Been friends ever since. Dianna’s job you
already know. Alan is the head of maintenance. Shelby is our resident nurse.
And Brent runs the rafting.”

 
“It’s my job that got the SRPL on our butts.”
Brent hung his bald head. “They don’t think we should raft on the river.”

 
“That’s crap and you know it,” Dianna said.
“Those nuts don’t think anyone ought to use the desert for anything but what
they approve of, including riding or hiking. They forget
it’s
public land.”

Mallory
didn’t ask, but she wanted to know who the SRPL were and if they had placed the
signs at the entrance of the ranch. How had they shut down the resort? More
importantly, would these people, all out of work, do something to Skeeter if
he’d found a gold mine? Her imagination was getting the better of her when
every stranger she met she looked upon with suspicion in her father’s death.
She’d seen too many mysteries on the tube.

 
“Let’s not bore Mallory with our problems,”
Mike said smoothly. He met her eyes. “This group has been friends forever, and yes,
we all work here when we’re up and running.”

 
“Yeah, we made a pact in college to stay
together,” Shelby said. “And we have. Except for—” She shot Mike an apologetic
glance. Her voice lowered. “Well, Elisha.”

By
the sudden silence, Mallory knew Elisha had meant something to Mike.

 
“I liked Skeeter,” Brent said, easing the
sudden tension. He spoke in a soft, nearly inaudible voice. “Whenever I had the
chance I stopped and visited with him. He was an interesting guy.”

 
“What did he say?” Mallory took a bite of
perfectly done steak and chewed, waiting to hear Brent’s answer.
Finally.
A clue to her father.

 
“He talked about the weather.
The water.
There are some old Indian signs—
petroglyphs
—on a big rock up there,” he pointed toward the
mountains, “and Skeeter sometimes went up there to try and figure out the
meanings and everything.”

 
“He was an archeologist,” Mallory shared. “At
least he was when I knew him.”

 
“No way,” Alan said. “Who would’ve guessed old
Skeeter was more than a bum.” He shot her a glance. “No offense.”

Mallory
stiffened. Her tone cooled. “He was much more than a homeless bum. I didn’t
know the man most of my life, but I do know he had excellent professional
credentials. In fact, he was on a team that discovered an ancient Mexican
culture more than twenty-eight years ago.” She directed her attention back to
Brent. Would he tell her what he knew? “Did Skeeter share anything about a gold
mine with you?”

 
“I understood that’s what he was looking for,”
Brent replied, “but no, Skeeter didn’t spill his secrets to me or anyone else.
I was honestly surprised he talked about the
petroglyphs
with me.”

 
“No one knew him well,” Shelby said kindly.
“We all knew he had this crazy idea he’d find the Lost Dutchman, or one of the
other legendary mines, but no one took him seriously.”

 
“Why not?
Maybe he
succeeded,” Mallory said. Although she knew the odds, she also knew it wasn’t
impossible. Especially for a man who knew what signs to look for.

 
“Do you know how many people have looked?”
Dianna asked.
“Hundreds.
And no one’s ever found a
thing out there. Why not?
Because there’s nothing to find.
Skeeter is just one more casualty of a myth.”

 
“Maybe, maybe not,” Mallory said. Either way,
she intended to find out.

Chapter
Four

Mallory
followed the others inside to the
rec
room where
someone started the jukebox. Toby Keith’s sexy baritone blasted out of the
speakers. Alan and Shelby began a game of pool, Dianna cornered Mike, and Brent
settled into one of the sofas. Mallory took the opportunity to slip away and
walk down the hall to a small library she’d noticed earlier. Along with several
trophy heads of wild boar and deer, an Arizona map hung on the wall. Obviously
old, it didn’t show any modern towns.

She
studied it closely, attempting to determine if any of the landmarks matched
those of
Skeeter’s
torn map. Only one name jumped
out, a ghost town named Tortilla Flat. She needed
Skeeter’s
torn guide to compare. Right now it was safely stowed in her bag. Before she
could orient herself further, voices alerted her she wasn’t alone. She started
to show herself when one of them spoke.
 

 
“Where’d she disappear to?”
one of them asked.

Dianna
.

 
“I don’t know.
Maybe to
bed.”

Mallory
identified the second speaker as Brent.

 
“Without a word?
Not likely.”
Dianna sniffed. “She’s probably sticking her nose into something that doesn’t
concern her.”

 
“You’re borrowing trouble,” Brent answered.
“She’ll leave as soon as she buries her father. Don’t do anything to arouse her
suspicions.” Their voices faded as they moved away.

So much for a warm welcome.
What could she be sticking her
nose into? Had Skeeter met with foul play from one of these people because he
knew something he shouldn’t? Even more determined to find out more, Mallory
waited for a moment to make sure she was alone and then hurried down the hall
to her bedroom. With haste, she dug through her bag and found the torn map.
Holding it carefully, she made her way back to the library.

A
Garth Brooks tune now filled the air. After checking to make sure no one was
around, humming along under her breath, Mallory spread the yellowing paper out
next to the map on the wall.
Skeeter’s
map was
apparently hand-drawn, with several landmarks that matched those on the larger
version. She traced the landmarks on
Skeeter’s
map,
and then found them on the hanging map. Two towns, Tortilla Flat and Goldfield,
sat along a dirt road called the Apache Trail.
Skeeter’s
map copied the route, but not exactly.

What
did the small inked X indicate on
Skeeter’s
map? On
the big one there was nothing but
desert
. Again,
comparing the two, she saw on
Skeeter’s
version where
he’d marked the X, was now
The Jumping Cholla Ranch
.

What
could that mean? Why had Skeeter marked the location of The Cholla on his map?
Just to get his bearings? Or was there a deeper reason he’d noted the ranch’s
position? She bit a thumbnail and stared at the ink spot, trying to figure it
out.

 
“There you are.” Mike stood in the doorway.

Mallory
yelped and jumped. The map fell from her fingertips to the floor.

Before
she could retrieve it, he beat her to the task. He glanced at it,
then
looked again. “What is this?”

 
“I’m not sure,” Mallory hedged.

 
“Like hell.” Mike’s eyes looked like twin blue
lakes, frozen over for winter. “Where’d you get this?”

Not
liking his tone, Mallory reached for her page. “Give me my property.”

He
held it away from her. “Not until you tell me how you got this.”

Seeing
he wasn’t going to hand it over, she said, “It’s nothing.
Just
an old map.”

 
“I know what it is. How’d you get it?” He
glanced at it again.

 
“From Skeeter.”
She
held out her hand.

 
“What?” He looked skeptical. “That’s not
possible.”

 
“The coroner gave it to me today. This was
sewn into his pant leg. The coroner gave it to me today.” Was Mike some kind of
nut? He seemed sane, but the way he acted now was beyond weird.

 
“Why didn’t you mention this earlier? Is this
your plan? Take up where Skeeter left off? To hunt down the treasure he
couldn’t find?” He took two steps, then turned around and paced the other way.
“I put up with him because he was a crazy old man. Don’t think for one minute
you’re going to take up where he left off.
 
Traipsing all over my ranch digging holes, bringing
down the wrath of the SRPL even more.”

 
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mallory snapped. “I had
no idea Skeeter had a map until today when the coroner handed it to me. I
didn’t tell you because I didn’t realize it
was
any of
your concern. And, I have no idea what the SRPL is.”

He
ran a hand over the back of his neck and gave her an apologetic look. “I’m sorry
I jumped on you. The SRPL is the Salt River Protection League. They’re an
environmental group, extremely radical, who has decided that any use of the
public lands by me, and three other commercial users, is tearing up the desert.
Along with the Forest Service, they have me shut down until a hearing in June.
I can’t be on the public land for any reason. Anything that brings the eye of
that crowd on me is a problem.” He handed the map back to her with obvious
reluctance.

Mallory
arched her brows at him. No wonder he was grumpy. But she wasn’t a paying
guest. She had the right to use public lands. “The SRPL can’t tell me, as a
private citizen, not to go on the desert.
Right?”

He
grimaced.
“Yeah.
Partly.
The
Cholla belongs to me, but the river is government property and it goes directly
through the middle of the place and I have several special-use leases on the
wilderness for
jeeping
and riding. As long as I’m not
guiding guests through there, I shouldn’t get in hot water. Since you’re not
paying, I don’t think you’re bound by the same constraints.”

 
“I see.” A bit of her anger turned to
sympathy. “I won’t do anything to get you in trouble.”

 
“Good.” He ran a hand over short blond hair.
“Anything that stirs them up is a problem. If they saw you out there searching
the desert, even on adjacent public land, it might give them ammunition to use
against me.”

Mallory’s
heart sank. If she did as he asked, and didn’t follow through on her search,
she’d never understand what her father gave up everything for. On the other
hand, if she didn’t do what Mike wanted, she could cause him irreparable
damage.

“Hey,
there you are.” Shelby stuck her head through the door, interrupting them.
“It’s getting late. Alan and I are going to head out. Brent left already. He
said to tell you thanks. He’ll be up in the morning to go over repairs. Nice
meeting you, Mallory. We’ll see you soon.”

 
“Thanks, Shell.” Mike moved to kiss her cheek.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 
“Di’s still in the game room. ’
Night.”
She gave a quick wave and left.

 
“I’m tired,” Mallory hinted. “Do you mind
telling Dianna goodbye for me?”

 
“Not at all,” he said smoothly. “Sleep well.”

A
tinge of regret filled her as he headed off to Dianna. Mallory would be
sleeping alone.

~*~

Mike
yawned, hoping Dianna would go home.

Instead
of leaving with the others, she’d insisted that they needed to talk. In a
moment of weakness he’d told her about seeing Mallory’s map and they had
discussed the possibilities for an hour. If there were a buried treasure
somewhere, it might be the key to saving the ranch.

 
“We need to get rid of that woman,” Dianna
hissed. “She’s going to bring nothing but trouble if she stays. We can beat
those bastards, and she can ruin it all.”

 
“Mallory doesn’t know anything. There’s no way
she can do any damage.” Mike sighed. Dianna had always been a drama queen. She
thrived on unrest. “As soon as the coroner releases her father’s body, she’ll
go home. Who knows, the map is probably worthless anyway.”

 
“If she pries, she might stir up things that
are better left alone.” Dianna pulled her thick brows together in a frown. “We
need to get a good look at her half of the map.”

 
“She won’t dig. She doesn’t know I have half
of it.” Mike swallowed his irritation. Although Dianna was right, Mallory might
ruin everything without even meaning to. On the other hand, she held the key to
saving the ranch.
If he could only figure out how to get her
part of the map . . . without her knowledge.

 
“How are you so sure?” Dianna put her hands on
her hips. “Oh, I get it. You’re going to turn on the old Malone charm and
seduce her into cooperating? That’s going above and beyond, isn’t it, Mike? I
suppose she’s attractive enough in a schoolmarm type way. Be careful, friend.
You’re still not over Elisha. One thing could lead to another, you might lose
control. Say more than you mean to during pillow talk.”

 
“You’re going too far,” Mike warned. He knew
Dianna wanted more from him than he could give her. She and Elisha had been
best friends in college, and after Mike met Elisha, he became friends with
Dianna, too. They were close, and it was comfortable between them, but he had
never been attracted to her in a physical way.

 
“Fine,” Dianna said, “but
keep
your head.”

 
“I’m the one who always does.”

She
glared at him as she went to the door. “Make sure you keep it that way.”

~*~

Sleep
was the last thing on Mallory’s mind, but she stretched out across her bed and
tried to relax. The tiny X on
Skeeter’s
map bugged
her. Why was it there? What did it signify? For some reason, she felt certain
the mark meant more than just The Cholla. Not only that mystery, but the
conversation between Brent and Dianna kept circling around in her head.
Scoffing at herself for being paranoid, Mallory tried to let it go. For all she
knew, they could’ve been discussing something totally innocent.

Maybe
a glass of milk would help her relax. She got up and padded to the door with a
glance at the clock on the wall.
Almost midnight.
Certain no one would still be
up,
she didn’t take time
to grab a robe, although she didn’t really need one. She wore her usual
nightwear–a plain tee and a pair of gray sweats. The hallway was dim, but lit
enough from the light under the
rec
room
door,
she easily made her way to the kitchen.

The
kitchen door was closed, but unlocked, and she slipped inside.

After
pouring herself a tall glass of milk, she took it and headed back. Halfway
there she froze as the
rec
room door opened and
Dianna came out. Spotting Mallory, Dianna looked her up and down. She smiled
like a rattlesnake. “Well, look
who’s
lurking about in
the middle of the night.”

 
“I wasn’t spying,” Mallory denied hotly. She
held up her drink. “I was thirsty.”

Dianna
shrugged.
“No matter.
It’s no secret that Mike and I
are . . . close.”

 
“Good for you.” Of course an attractive man
like Mike would be seeing someone. “If you’ll excuse me—”

 
“Sure,” Dianna promised without warmth.

Mallory
slipped by the other woman and entered her suite. More shaken than she
realized, she paced, her mind spinning. If Mike was romantically involved with
Dianna, she might be even more likely to pressure him to save all their jobs.
But at what cost?
Mike had invited Mallory to use his
horses, although he had told her not to stir up the SRPL. If she could do it
discreetly, she might ride out in the desert in the morning to see if she could
locate any of the landmarks on
Skeeter’s
map. She
must take care not to appear to be treasure hunting. Maybe the desert held some
answers.

Nothing
on The Jumping Cholla ranch was as it appeared on the surface.

~*~

After
Dianna finally went home, Mike sat at his desk and studied his half of
Skeeter’s
map. He traced some of the landmarks on the map
with his thumb. He should’ve handed it over to Mallory immediately instead of
keeping it from her. By rights, it belonged to her. No one had ever given
Skeeter’s
theories of a lost gold mine any credit,
including Mike. But when he’d found the map in the old prospector’s things he’d
had a moment’s doubt. Intrigued more than he wanted to admit, he just wanted to
study it a little while. What if the lost mine was on his property? Then the
profits would be his.

His
conscience told him to let it go even as he tried to remember what he’d seen on
the other half. If he found the mine by memory, that wouldn’t be wrong, would
it? But nothing in particular came to him. He had to see Mallory’s portion
again. The right thing to do here was ask her if he could take a look. But then
she’d know he’d withheld something that belonged to her. He’d already aroused
her suspicions by his behavior in the library.

He
generally prided himself on being an upstanding kind of guy. He wasn’t the sort
to use a woman for any reason. Only because she insisted, Elisha’s money had
kept a bevy of high-powered attorneys on retainer to fight the SRPL. But Mike
didn’t have that luxury any more. He had a short reprieve until the court date
in June, but without smart, high-priced lawyers to fight the injunction he
might as well call it quits now.