Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 04 - Saddle Up (8 page)

CHAPTER 8

It’s amazing how each day can seem to take forever but a week can fly by so fast. Thursday afternoon and part of the evening, I spent making the fifteen-page lesson plan notes for my substitute on Friday. No wonder I have so many sick days still left. It just wasn’t worth it.

Friday morning, I crawled into the attic to get the one item I knew I would need this weekend. In a huge chest buried behind many boxes, I found the boots I bought with babysitting money when I was sixteen. My dad hated the boots. Not because he thought red cowboy boots were too suggestive but because they were made from real alligator skin. I took them into my bedroom, retrieved a brush and shined them up. They still looked like new.

I packed my bags into my Honda Civic. I bought the car with the insurance money from my VW that crashed into a ditch on my way to Clainsworth, Oregon to investigate the death of Danielle Slammers last summer. I don’t like the car, but it was all I could afford since I only got seven thousand for my old VW. Since then I’ve put on new tires, replaced the radiator, and had the engine tuned up. Something seemed to be always wrong with the vehicle. It was like a black hole – I kept throwing money into it and didn’t see any changes.

Since I was packed and ready to go, I decided to call Tom to let him know I was on my way.

Before I could pick up the phone it rang. Tom’s ID.

“Hello, Tom,” I said.

“Hey, Liza. Are you sure your dad is going to be up in Ridgedale today?”

“Yes,” I lied. I had no idea when he was coming.

“Good. I’ve got a problem here at the station and I’m not sure when I’ll get there today.”

“What’s up?”

“David got into a pushing match with his wife and she’s threatening to file charges for domestic abuse. I’m trying to keep everyone safe and defuse the situation.”

David was one of Tom’s officers. He was tall and thin and the exact opposite of Tom. When I saw them together I immediately thought  of Laurel and Hardy.

“Has this happened before?” I asked.

“Yes, both of them have quick tempers and they like to throw things. Last time, she beamed him on the head with a frying pan. He had to get five stitches.”

“Have you suggested counseling?”

“I’ve suggested everything from talking to their minister, going to a marriage therapist, and divorce, but they keep telling me they love each other.”

“Sometimes love is not enough,” I said.

“They may love each other, but they can’t live under the same roof. He complains about her habits, she complains about his and nobody wants to compromise.”

“Call me when you’re on your way to Ridgedale.” A few hours without Tom might not be so bad. It would give me the opportunity to ask some questions without an obvious ‘cop’ standing next to me. Even not in uniform, Tom was an imposing figure and people tended to either clam up or go on the defensive when he was around.

“Okay, make sure you hook up with your dad as soon as you get into town.”

“I’ll give him a call.”

“Thanks, I’ve got to go,” Tom said hurriedly. “Doreen just threw a stapler at David.”

“Good luck.”

I left a message for my dad and when he hadn’t called back in ten minutes, I called Justin.

“Hey, Teach.”

“I’m on my way out, Justin. Did you find out anything on Blue Stripe Enterprises?”

“That business has layers and layers of companies and corporations. It’s like peeling an onion. Every time I think I’ve gotten to the real owners, I find another layer.”

“If anyone can find the core, you can, Justin.”

“I did learn a few things,” he said defensively.

“I have no doubts you did, Justin.” I reassured him. I would never question his ability to find data on a computer. He was a genius when it came to cyberspace. “Let me get my handy yellow pad so I can write it down.”

I set the phone down and got the yellow pad out of my overnight bag.

When I got back on the phone, I said, “Okay, give me the information.”

“Priscilla and Grant Banner started the company over thirty years ago right after they were married. They each owned a huge section of land and they combined them into Blue Stripe Enterprises. Ten years ago they were in big financial trouble. I don’t know what happened but the bank started foreclosure procedures on all their land and holdings. That’s when they took on a partner. He’s the one I can’t find. But he must have bailed out the company since they stayed in business and were able to finance the building of the power plant six months later.”

“Give me a call when you find their partner. It must be important if someone took the time to bury it.”

“I will, and I’ll get Shelby in a little while. Mom’s bought her a bed.”

“What?” I glanced around my house. Shelby didn’t even have her own bed here. She preferred to sleep on the floor or in my bed.

“Yes, she was at Costco and saw these huge round dog beds and insisted that Shelby needed one so when she was at our house, she’d have a special place to sleep.”

“She’ll still end up on your mom’s bed.”

“I know that and you know that, but mom thinks that if Shelby has her own bed she won’t scratch and whine at the closed bedroom door.”

“Fat chance of that. I’ve tried it several times but I couldn’t do it long enough to break her of sleeping in my bed. After a couple of nights, I was tired of listening to her, so she won. She’s back on the bed.”

“It won’t even last one night here. Mom’s a sucker for Shelby’s crying. The dog knows which cabinet in the kitchen to whine at so that Mom will give her a treat.”

I laughed. “I’ll call you when I get settled in Ridgedale to see if you’ve found out anything new on Blue Stripe.”

“You got it, Teach.”

I petted Shelby, gave her a couple of treats, and then locked my front door.

When I tried to start my car, nothing happened. I was sick and tired of this stupid car! I called AAA and paced the twenty minutes it took for them to arrive.

“I think you need a new battery,” the tow truck driver said after he jump started my engine.

“Thanks.” I would not spend another single dime on this vehicle. I drove directly to the first car lot, a Jeep dealer.

I walked into the showroom and was quickly greeted by a plump young man, dressed in tan slacks, white shirt, and blue tie. No doubt about it – he was a salesman.

“How are you doing today, ma’am? Can I help you look at new car today?”

I ignored his words and said, “If you can get me out of here in thirty minutes with a car I can afford, I’ll buy one. If it takes longer, I’m going to the next lot.”

Twenty-nine minutes later I had unloaded my bags from the Honda into a gray Jeep Patriot. It didn’t have electric windows or doors, but it had new tires and a warranty. The payments were under two hundred dollars a month, well within my budget. Now I would have to figure out why everyone says, “It’s a Jeep thing.”

I synced up my Bluetooth ear piece, turned on the radio to a country-western station, and left the lot. When I went through Sacramento, I was getting hungry but decided to wait until I got to Ridgedale before eating. That way I could ask some questions at the local diner.

A few minutes later, Dad called.

“Sorry I didn’t get back to you right away, Liza.”

“That’s okay, Dad. I just wanted to let you know that I am on my way to Ridgedale.”

“Tom’s going to be there today, too, right?”

“Yes.” Well, probably, I thought. He didn’t say he would absolutely not make it today.

“Good because I probably won’t be there until tomorrow. I’m having a few problems with some of our new members, so I need to stay local until they’re resolved.”

“No problem, Dad. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll call you and tell you where to meet me. I don’t want to run into Tom.”

“Oh, this should be a fun weekend. While I’m trying to spend time with both of you I have to make sure both of you don’t see each other.”

“I have no problems seeing Tom,” my dad said.

“Yeah, I know. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Everyone was having problems – Tom with David and his wife and Dad with some of his group members. Was there a full moon?

An hour later, I pulled off Highway 70 at the exit for Ridgedale. A mile off the highway the road changed. Thank God I had a new car. There were more potholes than asphalt on the road. That old Honda wouldn’t have had an axle left after all these bumps. I passed the two trailer parks Justin had told me about. None of the trailers looked new. In fact, I bet they’re all at least fifteen to twenty years old. The property around them was surrounded with brown weeds and broken down old cars and appliances. I’ve seen junkyards with better appeal.

The rest of the street was lined with small houses in need of major repairs, many had motorcycles parked in front. Each had a wire fence with a chained gate surrounding their property and in two I saw pit bulls roaming around. I know those dogs have gotten a bad rap. Some people swear they are the nicest animals but they scare the hell out of me.

As I drove into the city, the road was newer and much smoother. The town was maybe six blocks long with businesses on each side. The buildings looked old but they weren’t falling down. I didn’t see any broken windows or completely boarded-up buildings. They weren’t all occupied but somebody had taken the time to make sure they looked presentable. Had this been done because of the rodeo this weekend or by the faction that wanted to save the town from being leveled by bulldozers?

The sidewalks were filled with people, some obviously from the rodeo with their cowboy hats, wrangler jeans, and boots. But there were also couples, kids laughing and dogs on leashes walking with their owners. With all the information Jordan, Justin, Tom, and Dad had given me, I was expecting a police state. I had not focused on the fact that families lived in Ridgedale and that everything – cancer, lawsuits, gangs, and drugs – all affected them in a very personal way.

I passed by the market where people were carrying out bags of groceries or walking with a grocery clerk pushing their filled cart. The Ridgedale Café had a large group of people waiting on the benches outside and the bar had a line wrapped around the corner of the building. I bet the Mexican burrito place was just as busy.

The inn was located in the middle of the town. It looked like an old Motel 6 that some independent company had taken over and tried to make a go of it. It was one of the few two-story buildings in town, with six rooms on the top and four and an office on the bottom. The building had been recently painted tan with brown trim and someone had mowed the weeds that might have been considered a front lawn and made the effort to plant a few roses in front of the office.

I parked my car in the spots designated for check-in and walked through the office door, leaving my bags in the car since I wasn’t sure which room I would be staying in. The office had two upholstered chairs and a small side table in a sitting area, although I wasn’t sure why you would ever need to sit in a hotel office. A tall, thin middle aged woman stood behind a tall oak counter. Her black, wavy long hair was tied back in a ponytail and she wore no make-up except bright red lipstick.

She smiled and said, “Can I help you?”

“I have a reservation.”

“Great, what’s the name?”

“Liza Wilcox.”

The women searched through her computer, frowned and looked up, “I can’t find your name.”

“Try Tom Owens.” Maybe Justin had put the room under Tom’s name.

The clerk shook her head. “Did you make the reservation on line?”

“Yes.”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t work.”

“What doesn’t work?” I asked.

“If you make the reservation on the computer, I never get it. It’s a glitch in the system.”

“Do you have a room?”

“No, I’m booked up solid through the entire weekend because of the rodeo.”

Now what was I supposed to do? I didn’t want to have to drive here everyday.

“I think Sheryl Ann may still have a room,” the woman offered.

“Sheryl Ann?”

“She has a big house a few blocks from here and she’s the only one who lives there, so during rodeo season she opens it up as a boarding house. I’ll give her a call and see if she has a room available. I’m really sorry about the computer mistake.”

“Computers are like that. They’re great … when they work.”

She laughed and picked up the phone on the desk.

“Hi, Sheryl Ann. I’ve got someone who needs a room for —,” she looked at me and mouthed ‘how long?’

“My fiancée and I will be here until Sunday,” I told her.

“She needs a room for the whole weekend, do you have any left?”

Silence.

“It’s the computer again. She booked a room but I never got the reservation. Okay, I’ll send her over.”

The clerk smiled and said, “She’s got one left.”

I wondered what the price differential would be but didn’t bother to ask. It didn’t matter, I was staying no matter what, and being in a boarding house would give me the opportunity to talk to more people.