Miner's Daughter (23 page)

“We found fresh wood chips in the shed,”
Martin said darkly. “It looked a lot like someone went to the
trouble of hacking that roof beam away from its moorings.”

“Also,” Mari said, having just remembered
something else, “for the beam to crush the cameras, the cameras had
to be moved, didn’t they?”

All four men gawked at her for several
seconds. She felt heat creep into her cheeks and blurted out,
“Didn’t they? I mean, they weren’t just sitting there in the middle
of the shed to begin with, were they?”

“By God, you’re right.” That was Tony, who
smiled at her so warmly, her blush deepened.

“You are right,” murmured Martin. “Why didn’t
I think of that?”

“That’s right,” confirmed Ben. “We even
discussed it ahead of time, trying to decide the best place to put
them.” He turned to Martin. “Say, was the canvas still on top of
them?”

Martin’s eyebrows shot up. “No! It wasn’t, by
God. Somebody took it off. I didn’t see it anywhere.”

“I did.”

Again, they all turned to look at Mari, who’d
spoken.

She continued, “I remember now that when I
picked up that chip, it seemed to me that the rubble was sitting on
some kind of canvas flooring. I didn’t think anything of it. Until
now, when you mentioned a canvas cover. There sure was no canvas on
top of the mess.”

“Good heavens.” Martin’s lips flattened out
into a straight, white line. “Good heavens.”

“I think we ought to go out there and take
one last look.” This, from Tony. “We won’t disturb anything, but
I’ll rest better for knowing one way or the other whether this was
an act of malicious vandalism or an accident.”

Without another word, they shoved their
chairs back from the table and arose. Mari, who knew her way around
the Mojave Inn better than the others, muttered, “I’ll get a
lantern.” She did so, and they trooped outside together.

Tony had retained the key Martin had tossed
to him earlier in the day, so he unlocked the door. “I’ll go in.
You can stay outside. There isn’t room enough for all of us.”

The weather, hot as blazes during the day,
always cooled down at night. Mari shivered and wrapped her arms
across her chest, although she believed at least some of her chilly
feeling came from trepidation. She really didn’t want to know that
some evil person was out to get Martin Tafft or the Peerless
Studio.

“Mari’s right,” came Tony’s voice from inside
the shed. He sounded exceptionally gloomy. “The stuff’s lying on
the canvas that used to cover it, and she’s also right that the
cameras were moved to this position.”

Martin uttered a soft curse and stuck his
head inside the doorway in order to see better. George’s curse was
more audible. Ben only sputtered and fumed. Mari’s heart sank into
her mother’s old shoes and sat there, lifeless and cold.

All at once, the still night air was ripped
to shreds by the thunderous roar of Tiny’s barking. All five people
at the shed jumped several inches off the ground.

Tony said, “For the love of Pete, what’s
that?”

“It’s Tiny.” Mari, who knew her dog too well
to believe he was carrying on like that for fun, took off at a dash
for the hotel. She presumed the others followed her, but didn’t
turn to see.

“Hold on!”

She was surprised to find Tony Ewing beside
her. He must run fast. “It’s Tiny,” she gasped, fright plain in her
voice. “Something’s wrong.”

“Dammit, I know there’s something wrong, but
you’re not going up there to check on it all by yourself.”

They’d reached the back door of the hotel and
she yanked it open before Tony could stop her. This was no darned
time for him to play the gentleman. Something was wrong with her
dog: Mari thought she’d die if anything happened to Tiny.

“It’s
Tiny
,” she cried, as if that
explained everything. And it did, to her. She was too frightened to
think about anyone else at the moment.

“I know it’s Tiny, dammit.”

To Mari’s dismay, Tony raced past her and
took the stairs three at a time. Mari’s legs were kind of long, but
they weren’t as long as that. It took her more time to get up the
stairs. When she reached the top and saw the door of a room halfway
down the corridor gaping open and Tiny standing sentry, barking his
head off and holding down something with his huge paws, her heart
careened crazily.

Tony got to the dog before she did. As she
ran, she was vaguely aware of doors opening on both sides of the
corridor and people peeking out to see what all the commotion
was.

She heard someone mutter something about
hotels allowing pets indoors to interfere with other people’s
sleep, but she paid no attention. From talking with Judy Nelson,
she knew all of the guests presently occupying rooms at the Mojave
Inn were employees of Peerless.

And they’d better not complain about Tiny, or
they’d have to deal with her. Since she owned the precious mine
they were all so eager to use, they’d just better watch their
step.

By the time she reached Tony and Tiny, Tiny
was in the middle of one of his ecstatic greetings, and Tony was
trying to fend him off. Mari said, “Tony! I mean, Tiny! Here, boy.
Stop that.” To Tony, she said, “Can you tell what happened?”

Of the two male creatures cluttering up the
doorway, Tony paid attention to her. He’d managed to pry whatever
it was Tiny had been guarding out from under the dog’s heavy feet
and held it out for Mari’s inspection. “It looks like a coat or
jacket of some type. Get away from me, dog!”

Ignoring Tony’s rudeness to her precious pet,
Mari took the cloth from his fingers and inspected it. “Is it
yours?” It sure didn’t look like anything Tony would wear unless he
was playing the role of pauper for a Peerless production. Of
course, that might have something to do with the fact that Tiny had
evidently tugged the garment from the body of whoever had been
wearing it. There were clearly discernible doggie tooth marks on
and around its hem.

“God, no. I’ve never seen it before.” He
finally managed to persuade Tiny to sit still and merely wag his
tail.

“I wonder—” Mari broke off abruptly as
something awful occurred to her. “Good Lord, you don’t think Tiny
hurt the person who’d been wearing it, do you?”

Tony glanced from her to Tiny, and turned to
look into his room. “You know him better than I do.”

“Do-do you see a body on the floor?”

“No.”

That was a relief. Mari asked, “Is anything
missing?”

“I don’t know. The window’s open. I know I
left it shut to keep the bugs out.”

Mari opened her windows at night in spite of
the bugs to get a cross draft and drive out the heat of the day.
She noticed the, electrical fan in the room and guessed some people
didn’t have to do things like open windows in spite of bugs. It was
amazing what money could buy. Comfort, for example. She told
herself to snap out of it; there were more important things to
think about right now.

“Do you think someone might have climbed in
through the window?” she asked, moving farther into the room. She
left the door open, because it was shocking for a single female to
enter the room of a single male.

“I’m not sure.” Tony strode to the window and
was inspecting the sill and the wooden siding of the hotel outside
his window. The room was on the second floor. If a person had
ventured to climb through the window, he’d have had to climb the
wall first, unless he’d brought a ladder with him.

“Is there a ladder or anything out
there?”

“Don’t see one.”

Mari frowned and, tossing propriety aside in
favor of satisfying her curiosity, joined Tony at the window. “Oh,
but look.” She pointed at the earth beneath them. “Doesn’t it look
as if the ground’s been disturbed?”

Tony squinted for a moment and said, “How can
you tell?”

Mari leaned farther out of the window.
Actually, it was pretty difficult to tell if the dirt below was
disturbed or not. “Um, I’m not sure. It looks a little lumpy.”

“It always looks like that,” Tony grumbled
sourly. “This is the god-awfullest place I’ve ever been in. Don’t
know how you stand it.”

Mari tried not to take offense, remembering
for the umpteenth time that a gentleman accustomed to luxurious
surroundings, including green growing vegetable matter and mowed
lawns, might find Mojave Wells a little hard to take. “You get used
to it,” she replied calmly. She craned her neck to look up at the
roof, balancing herself halfway out the window.

Tony huffed. Tiny had joined them. Sensing a
game in which he desired to take part, he jumped on Mari. She lost
her grip on the windowsill, felt her balance teetering, and cried
out.

“Damn!”

That was Tony, and as he said it, Mari felt
his big, strong hands go around her waist. He pulled her back
inside the room, and she was safe. From falling. She discovered she
wasn’t safe from Tony when, as soon as her feet were on his bedroom
floor, he tugged her around to face her and wrapped her in his
arms.

“Damn that dog of yours,” he said savagely.
“He’s going to kill somebody someday from sheer exuberance.”

Although she enjoyed the sensation of being
in Tony’s embrace, Mari knew it wasn’t proper and pulled back. He
didn’t release her, which gave her a good excuse not to do that
anymore. “I’m okay,” she said in a voice that shook only a
little.

“The hell you are. You’re all alone in the
world except for that damned dog, and he seems determined to injure
you.”

“That’s not fair.” She had an almost
ungovernable impulse to wrap her arms around him and snuggle
closer. The sensation of being protected was as new to her as it
was exquisite.

“The hell it’s not.” Tony’s voice had gone
softer and less ferocious.

Mari felt his hands, which had been clutching
her tightly, loosen and start to caress her back, and she was
almost positive his lips were kissing her hair. She was as close to
swooning as she’d ever been. She felt wonderful. Superb.
Magnificent. She wished he’d keep on stroking and kissing her in
just that way until sometime next week. Maybe next year.

It was Tiny who came between them, nudging
them both with his cold, wet nose and whining piteously. Mari gave
a start. So did Tony, who released her so suddenly she nearly fell
backward out of the window. Sticking her arm out and grabbing the
window frame just in time to prevent disaster, she stood upright,
licked her lips, and straightened her skirt.

Tony cleared his throat and glared down at
Tiny. Mari was sorry the infinitesimal idyll had been so abruptly
terminated, but she knew it was for the best. She patted Tiny’s
head and muttered, “Good dog.”

She didn’t mean it. If it weren’t for
propriety’s sake—and for the sake of her heart, which had never
been tested and was, therefore, most likely vulnerable to
breakage-—he’d as soon stay here with Tony in his bedroom, come
what may. Which probably meant she was a hussy underneath. She
sighed.

“Well, I can’t really tell if a ladder was
propped against the wall or not, but if somebody did come through
the window, it would explain the ruckus Tiny caused.” Because she
meant it this time, she added another pat on Tiny’s head and a more
hearty, “Good dog.”

“I suppose so.” Tony ran his fingers through
his hair a couple of times, as if he were trying to reestablish
some sort of inner composure.

It was a gesture Mari found interesting,
since she couldn’t imagine why he should have been discomposed by
her, of all people. Why, he must have women by the score. By the
hundreds. Thousands, even. She tried to work up some indignation
that he had taken a liberty with her, but couldn’t. Being in his
arms had felt too darned good for indignation to get a toehold.

That made her think of something else. “Say,
let me look outside again.”

“Be careful this time,” Tony growled, and
took Tiny’s collar in a hard fist.

That wasn’t fair. She’d been careful. It had
been Tiny who’d almost caused a calamity. She opted not to point
out the obvious to Tony, sensing he’d pick a quarrel if she did.
Instead, she leaned out the window again, making sure Tony had a
tight grip on Tiny’s collar, and inspected the clapboard siding.
“There are marks out here. Look, Tony.”

She indicated some scratches and dirty scuff
marks on the wall directly beneath the window. Tony said,
“Hmmm.”

“Does it look like maybe a ladder had been
placed there?”

“Maybe.” He drew back and frowned into his
room. “But if some thief climbed a ladder and got in here, wouldn’t
the ladder still be there?”

“Not if he climbed back down again when Tiny
scared him”

He shook his head. “Then how do you account
for the open door? I know the door was locked when I left.”

“Oh.” Marie felt foolish. Naturally, Tiny
couldn’t have opened the door. “I see what you mean.” She thought
for a second and posed a tentative question. “Maybe there were two
of them?”

“How do you figure that?”

“One to hold the ladder and one to do the
dirty work?” She shrugged. “It’s only a suggestion.”

Silence settled over the trio as they
pondered Mari’s suggestion. Martin showed up at the door, along
with George and Ben, and Mari smiled and gestured at them to enter
the room. She was glad as all get-out that they hadn’t arrived a
couple of minutes earlier, when she and Tony had been wrapped up in
each other.

“What’s going on in here?” Martin asked,
panting. “Why was Tiny carrying on?”

Observing his newest friend, Tiny bounded
over to greet Martin. Martin handled him well, Mari thought,
petting and talking softly to the huge beast, while easing his paws
from his shoulders and setting them on the floor. She approved of
people who weren’t intimidated by Tiny’s size but knew him to be a
pussy cat underneath.