High Desert Detective, A Fiona Marlowe Mystery (Fiona Marlowe Mysteries) (14 page)

Fiona smiled. “I am up in the air right now in terms of my life. I
don’t know where I’ll come out. But I admit this country has its attractions.”

“Maybe you could rebuild your place on the hill. Maybe run a
little bed and breakfast.”

“I’ve thought of that. I don’t know. I’ll pick through the
rubble. I haven’t been up there since the fire. Maybe it will exorcise some of
the ghosts and give me some ideas what to do.”

“You do that. What happened to your friend?”

She shrugged. “Some days she sleeps all day.”

Fiona walked up the knoll, almost afraid to visit the place she
had already come to love and have hopes for the future. The old smoke smell was
overpowering. A few brave burned off boards stood as forlorn guards over the
sad scene. She walked around the perimeter, looking at the ground, at the
rubble, not sure what she might find. She saw the blackened remains of the old
coffee pot. The twisted remains of the burner plate were half-way visible. The
roof had collapsed and buried everything.

Who would have done this? Jake didn’t seem to think it was
personal. He thought it had something to do with the cattle rustling at the
ranch. She was a pawn in the game, a ploy to take the attention away from
something else. She resented that and given half a chance she could work up a
real head of steam over the whole business. But they didn’t know yet who set
the fire. Someone had been outside her door that night, and she wanted to know
who. How was she going to find that person?

She studied the landscape, the view. There were five acres in the
parcel.
Five acres of sagebrush and rock.
An outside pump for water, no electric, no sewer.
Not a
place in demand. But the view was spectacular, and Opal said it would never
flood. Maybe she should rebuild. She considered what Opal had told her about
Jake. He would be owner of the ranch if everything worked out. And she would be
sitting up here in what?
A cute B & B?
For what?
Watching Jake ranch? That scenario was cozier than she wanted to get right now.

She walked to where the lone tree stood. It had been charred on
one side by the fire, but amazingly enough it was still had green leaves on the
other side. Those green leaves spoke of such hope. The tree’s efforts gave her
new hope. She studied the footprint of the house and the lay of the land,
trying to imagine a totally new structure that would command the knoll. She
liked the ranch house look with porches front and back. She looked around the
clearing to try to picture if the space would support a larger, rambling
structure. A flash of light caught her eye by the tree. The sun caught
something shiny, and then it was gone. She couldn’t imagine what it was. Hoover
said they had combed the area looking for clues. She stooped to look. A piece
of metal lay half hidden under a clump of brush. She pulled aside the brush to
have a better look.

It was the barrel of a gun. Fiona frowned. Whose could it be? She
didn’t touch it or move it. She knew little about guns. She studied it. It
looked like it belonged in a cowboy movie. Only one spot was shiny, the rest
looked gray and weathered, like it had been there a long time. She wondered why
the Sheriff hadn’t found it. One chance ray of the sun reflecting off the
barrel gave it away.
 
She marked the
place with a small stack of rocks so she could find it again in the tangled brush.

She walked around the site moving brush aside, pushing rocks out
of the way but she found nothing else. She stood for a while and looked from
the desolation of the rubble to the timeless basalt rim rock in the distance. The
breeze ruffled her hair. Those rocks didn’t care if houses stood or fell. They
didn’t care about the silly lives of people. They were the real winners. She
felt like a gnat on the back of time. Maybe if she stayed she could learn
something from those rocks and this land. Maybe she was always running from
life. Maybe she should stay and confront it.

Seven

Olympia was sitting on the front porch with a giant glass of iced
tea in hand when Fiona returned from the trip to the knoll. She sat on the
chair beside her friend, who wore a frilly chartreuse nightgown with matching
boa wrapper. Her hair was disheveled. Her makeup smeared.

“Did I make a fool of myself again?” asked Olympia.

“Not too. You’ve been worse.”

“That cheers me up.”

“However, you shared information about our Australia trip which
we had agreed we wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“I talked about that? Oh, dear. I’m so sorry, Fiona.”

Fiona shrugged. “No sense going on about it. But can we agree
again not to tell anyone about what happened on that trip?”

Olympia nodded. “I promise.
Again.”

They sat for a spell watching the bumble bees busy buzzing on the
pink yarrow in Opal’s flower garden that fronted the porch.

“Are you mad at me?” asked Olympia. “You’re not talking.”

“No. I’m thinking about what I’m going to do.”

Olympia sighed. “I’m so jealous of you and Jake. I wish I had
someone like you that was head over heels in love with me. I might consider
settling down.”

“I’m not sure I like the feeling.”

“Still and all you are very lucky.”

Fiona didn’t respond.
 
She
wasn’t ready to talk about Jake. Instead, she went inside the house to retrieve
her cell phone. She dialed the Sheriff’s office and waited for him to answer
while she walked back on the porch to sit with Olympia.

“Sheriff Hoover? This is Fiona Marlowe. I found an old gun up at
the site where the bunk house burned down.” She gave him the details, and he
said he’d be out to have a look as soon as he could get away.

 
“You found a gun up
there?” asked Olympia, after Fiona had closed the connection.

“Yes, and it has set me to thinking. What if there is something
valuable at the bunkhouse site that someone wanted and couldn’t have while I
was there. Someone said an old buckle was found up there. What if there is some
kind of treasure? Maybe a cache of old antiquities and the gun was part of that.
Then the tale grows up about the place being haunted so that people will stay
away.”

“That’s pretty far out.
Treasure?
Nothing around here looks very valuable.”

“No, nothing looks valuable. But what if it’s something that
someone wants? They used to mine gold to the north of here. Maybe there’s a
gold mine under my burned up bunkhouse. A relative, or friend, or former
employee might know about these things. Jake thought the fire was a
diversionary tactic to keep them from witnessing the rustling attempt. But
maybe not.”

Olympia rose and fluffed up her hair. “I can tell we are going to
be chasing around these rocks trying to find out. I better clean up.”

She went inside, leaving Fiona to study the bumble bees. What if
all these events were related?
 
Could those
old bones in the hot spring, the fire, an old gun, and cattle rustling be
connected? Maybe she was trying to find links where none existed.

By the time Olympia had cleaned up and poured herself into jeans
and a cowgirl shirt with cleavage, the sun was well overhead. She was the only
person Fiona knew that could coax cleavage from a cowgirl shirt.

“Let’s go into town,” said Fiona. “I want to find Brewster and
talk to him about his girlfriend.”

“Really, Fiona, why don’t you leave that to the Sheriff? Although
speaking of the Sheriff, I wouldn’t mind seeing him again.”

“I’m not going to see the Sheriff. I want to talk to Brewster. I’m
intrigued about the girlfriend who disappeared. We could have dinner in town.
Jake told me about a bar that has lots of local color.”

“Local color, I like. I might get some ideas for my new western
romance series. Let’s go.”

Fiona drove Olympia’s dream car. It was the height of decadence. Olympia
was good at decadence. They stopped first at Brooks’ Furniture Store. Lauren
knew about the bunkhouse fire.

“I’m so sorry, Fiona. When I heard about the fire, I put a hold
on your order. I’ll cancel it if you want. No problem. Will you rebuild?”

“I haven’t decided yet, but don’t lose my order. If I rebuild,
I’ll want all that lovely furniture. I have another question for you. Do you
know anything about Brewster and his girlfriend?”

A few customers lingered, so Lauren lowered her voice. “That
would be girlfriends with an S, and I do. Why do you want to know?”

“Because he told me one of them disappeared, and I was to tell
the Sheriff. To tell you the truth, I’m doing a little sleuthing on my own.”

Lauren smiled. “The things I could tell you about Brewster. He’s
had just about every eligible female in town and then some. You and your friend
better be careful.”

“Can you join us for dinner around seven at the Animal Head Saloon?”

Lauren laughed.
“Perfect place.
They
have good food for a saloon. I’ll be there.”

Back in the car, Olympia said, “Cute store. Maybe I should look into
buying a ranch with a big house like Opal’s. Lauren could outfit my house.”

Fiona looked at Olympia. She never was quite sure on what flower her
friend was going to alight next. “How many houses do you have now?” she asked.

“I’ve lost count.”

“Right.
Maybe you should think it over.”

Olympia brightened. “I will. We could go in on a place together,
Fiona. Then you would have your place in the country while you decide what to
do about Mr. Hunky.”

Fiona shook her head. “I’d have to think about that. But thanks
for the offer.”

“Does Mr. Hunky have any eligible cowboy friends?”

“You should ask him.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Right.
Let’s find Brewster.”

Fiona found Brewster’s place at the end of a street lined with
old cottage style houses. She knocked at the door. The house looked like it was
in a state of prolonged renovation. No one answered. She flipped open her cell
phone and dialed his number. The message service came on, and she left a
message.

Back in the car she sat and thought.

“No Brewster. What next?” said Olympia.

“I wish I knew more about this town.”

“It’s tough being a newcomer. But that never stopped you, kiddo.”

Fiona smiled at her friend. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

She dialed the electrician to tell him not to come back. He
didn’t answer, and she left a termination message.

She remembered that Brewster was working on a B-n-B in town. How
many bed and breakfasts could there be in Rocky Point? She called Lauren and
got the name of the place where Brewster was working. It was called the Bitterbrush
Inn and sat on a huge lot on a tree lined side street in the south part of
town.

Brewster was in the back yard running a saw on a temporary table
set up between two saw horses. He frowned when he saw them and kept working. Fiona
walked over to where he worked. The warmth of the lingering day stood out in small
beads of sweat on his forehead which was encircled with a handkerchief head
band. Flecks of sawdust stuck to his clothes and arms. The definition of his
muscular arms was nicely showcased in a sleeveless T-shirt. Olympia was right
behind her, and she’d be admiring the muscles. They might even make one of her
book covers.

Fiona watched him work the jig saw through an intricate curve
with expert hands. She waited for him to finish, then said, “I’m sorry to tell
you our job is off. The place burned down.”

“I heard.” He moved boards and started to set up a new piece of
wood.

“I told the Sheriff about your girlfriend.”

“I heard.”

He kept on working.

His attitude puzzled Fiona. “Is there anything else you can tell
me about her?
 
Like her name and where
she was from?”

“What business is it of yours?”

“You made it my business when you asked me to relay the message
to Hoover. I’m trying to help.”

He turned off the saw and studied at her. “I’ve told Hoover all I
know about the girl. She’s not my girlfriend. She was a friend, an
acquaintance. I don’t know much about her.” He shrugged. “We hit it off in a
bar over in Corvallis. She said she’d stop by to see me some time if she ever got
through Rocky Point.”

“Did she call you before she came?”

“She called when she was in Bend from her cell phone. She said
she was on her way to Rocky Point, and I invited her to stop by. That’s the
last I heard from her. It wouldn’t be the first time a female has stood me up. I
didn’t think a lot about it at the time.”

“Do you know what kind of car she drove?”

He shook his head. “I met her in a bar. We had a drink and
exchanged pleasantries. That’s all I know about her”

“What did you talk about?”

He sighed. “Art. She’s an artist which is another reason I wasn’t
particularly concerned about her not showing. Artists are flaky people. That
includes me.” His smile was rueful.

“What kind of an artist was she?”

“She said she worked in bronze. She might be connected to Joseph
up in the northeast part of the state. They have a thriving colony of sculptors
who work in bronze. She never said if she lived in Corvallis or if she was just
passing through.” He shrugged. “I’m sorry about your place. I thought it had a
lot of promise and that you had good ideas for remodeling it. It might be
cheaper to rebuild it.”

“Thanks for your concern. I’m still trying to decide what to do.”

“There are plenty of houses in town that are fixer-uppers, if you
like that sort of thing.”

“Really?” said Olympia, pushing her way into the conversation. “I
might be interested. Do you do remodeling work?”