Tattered Legacy (A Nora Abbott Mystery) (11 page)

Fifteen

When Charlie hadn’t shown
up from his morning march, Nora had begged Abigail to drive her to Moab. She’d picked up her Jeep and drove through the quiet town to the parking lot behind the Read Rock, making sure Abbey would be cool and leaving the Jeep’s windows down. As she turned off the street, movement ahead caught her eye and she drew in a sharp breath. A battered stock trailer disappeared around a corner a few blocks away. The vehicle pulling it eased behind a building but before it did, Nora was sure she identified a white pickup.

So what? There were probably twenty white pickups in Moab. It didn’t mean Lee Evans was in town. Even if Lee was, what difference did it make? Just because he was sinister and opposed to everything Nora strove for, and he’d run her off the road yesterday, didn’t mean he was dangerous. Okay, it might mean that. She wondered just how violent his temper could be.

The sun already blasted down even though it was still too early for shoppers to line the streets. A dented, dusty late-model black Suburban was the only other vehicle in the lot.

Nora hurried through the alley, eyeing the graffiti rock art. She thought about taking a picture to give to Lisa for her collection before remembering Lisa was gone.

The sign in the front window of the Read Rock said they opened at nine, but when Nora tried the door at 9:10, it didn’t budge. Marlene didn’t seem like the type to open late. Nora peeked through the window.

The curtain to the back room rippled. Marlene probably worked in the back and didn’t realize the time. Nora banged on the door to alert her. A moment passed and Nora banged again.

After another few seconds, the curtain swept aside. Marlene burst through, glanced over her shoulder at the back room, then hurried to the front door. She unlocked it and frowned at Nora. “What do you want?”

Surprised at the abrupt greeting, Nora stammered. “I, uh, wanted to talk.” What a stupid thing to say. She’d meant to start off on a more friendly note and ease into the topic of the film project, even though Marlene made it clear yesterday she didn’t think Nora should pursue it.

Marlene didn’t step aside to let Nora inside. She tilted her head, as though fighting not to look behind her. “Sure. There’s a café down about two blocks. I haven’t had breakfast. I’ll meet you there.”

She shut the door and locked it again. Nora leaned toward the glass and watched Marlene hurry to the back room.

Nora was still puzzling over Marlene’s strange behavior ten minutes later as she sipped an iced chai and sat in the dappled sunshine on the patio of a funky little vegetarian café. Flat sandstone slabs created an uneven surface and the tables and chairs rocked with movement. A koi pond gurgled behind her and busy black scavenger birds perched on chair backs awaiting the slightest ebb in vigilance when they’d swoop in and steal crumbs from tables and plates.

Nora gazed out at the red cliffs to the west that created one side of the deep canyon that housed Moab. The fresh morning air brightened the patio that overflowed with white tea roses, fragrant honeysuckle, bright purple irises, and brilliant blue cornflowers.

Most of the customers seemed to be regulars—not the old-time cowboy contingent but the rock climbers, bike riders, and Earth savers. Lots of rumpled, free trade clothes to go with the free trade coffee and vegetarian entrees. Nora had eaten here several times with Lisa. They could make a mean tempeh BLT and had a pretty tasty quiche of the day. This morning, Nora picked at a soyrizzo breakfast burrito and waited.

The café sat on the highway that ran through Moab and served as one of its main commerce streets. Four lanes and a wide median made the road an ordeal to cross on foot. Cars and SUVs whizzed by, the day heating up with tourist activity. There a big race in town and everyone seemed to buzz with excitement.

A table of what appeared to be affluent retirees chatted over steel-cut organic oatmeal and vegan scones. They looked fit and wore spotless outdoor gear adorned with the labels of the most expensive outfitters. A group of twenty-somethings who looked and smelled as if they’d been living in the desert for a week grabbed a table on the patio.

One of the women from the table of well-dressed couples stood and approached the youngsters. She gave them a sincere, concerned face. “Good morning. Are you here for the bike race?”

One of the young women, her brown hair in a wispy pony tail, smiled up at her. “We’ve been here all week. It’s a great event.”

The dark-haired woman nodded. “I’m sure you’ve noticed some of the unauthorized HOV trails cutting through the fragile landscapes.” She sounded like a public service announcement. Two girls and one guy near the end of the table nodded and gave her their attention while the other people in the group carried on with their own animated conversation.

She continued as if lecturing her children. “We’re trying to place restrictions on people running all over the place with their ATVs. The locals don’t seem to understand the land is delicate. They abuse it as if it is worthless.”

The young people looked trapped and uncomfortable. One of the girls shifted away and joined her friends’ conversation. The other two looked trapped.

“These old ranchers don’t even know about global warming.”

The two young people exchanged a look of desperation.

Marlene shot down the sidewalk. She wore a deep red flowing skirt with vibrant embroidery along the hem. Her sleeveless shirt dipped in a low V in front, hid by a filmy turquoise print scarf.

The finely coiffed woman continued her practiced speech. “They over-graze the sparse prairie lands that have no chance to recuperate, thinking the weather patterns of their ancestors will hold today. But they don’t realize their forefathers stripped the land and it needs to rejuvenate without the hooves and teeth of cows.”

The girl nodded and stood. “Did you want us to sign a petition or something?”

The woman seemed encouraged by the question. She snapped her fingers at the table where her cohorts sat. One of the men jumped up, grabbing a spiral notebook and pen. He hurried over.

The woman snatched it from him and flipped it open. “If you’ll give me your e-mail addresses, I’ll put you on our action alert list. We’ll contact you when we need you to write your lawmakers and advocate for this special place.”

Marlene strode to the front door of the café and caught Nora’s attention. “I’ll order and be right out,” she called. The white pickup pulling the stock trailer slowed and parked on the curb across the street as the two well-dressed couples stared. They leaned across the table and began to talk excitedly. Nerves twanged the first bar of
Dueling Banjos
in Nora’s chest as she recognized the black cowboy hat.

A raven squawked on the table and Nora jumped for her phone, happy to see Cole’s ID. “Hi!” she answered.

After a few seconds of hellos and where are yous, Cole said, “When are you going home?”

“I need to stick around here for a day or two.” She kept her eyes on the white pickup.

“Abigail just called. She’s worried.” He didn’t sound happy.

Lee Evans stepped from his pickup. He hurried up the sidewalk and inside a river raft outfitter’s office. Why would a cowboy like Lee go into a river raft outfitters? “About what?”

“She said you’re not accepting Lisa’s death and she’s afraid you’ll get hurt like Lisa did,” Cole explained.

She couldn’t tell Cole her suspicions about Lisa’s death. “I need to find Lisa’s camera. I think she might have hidden it. I’ll be careful.”

Frustration darkened his voice. “Why would she hide her camera?”

As the conversation continued, Nora noticed a yacht of an SUV pull up and park along the street in front of Lee’s pickup. A blond man and woman climbed out, followed by four kids. A little girl of about five, with fine dark ringlets haloing her head, trotted up the street, the lights adorning the bottoms of her sneakers twinkling. The adults wore worried frowns and scanned the street. The mother called to the little girl and herded all the children inside the outfitter’s office.

She knew someone wanted to kill her and put information on the camera she hid. She thought I’d know where to look.
Nora watered it down for him. “She was scared of something.”

He sighed. “You got all that from her voicemail? Please, just come home. Ever since I’ve met you, trouble finds you. So far I’ve been around to protect you, but I can’t now.”

Her jaw hardened. “I don’t need you to protect me.”

“Hey! No! Wait!” Cole shouted away from the phone. He came back on the line. “We’re branding some calves, and I’ve gotta go. Do me a favor. Just head back to Boulder.”

“Is that an order?”

“Damn it, Nora.” He’d never taken an angry tone with her, and he sounded as shocked as she felt. He sighed. “Do whatever you want.” He must have thought he hung up, but she heard the phone clunk as if dropped on the pickup seat. Cole hollered in the distance. She was about to hang up when a woman spoke into the phone. “Who is this?”

The voice took Nora by surprise. “This is Cole’s phone.” She thought maybe the woman didn’t know.

“Yes. And you are?” The woman definitely sounded annoyed.

“I’m Cole’s friend,” Nora answered, trying to sound bolder than she felt. “Who are you?”

“His wife.”

Sixteen

Nora punched her phone
off and stared at it. She couldn’t move.

Breathe, she ordered herself and sucked in air.

Married? Cole’s wife. Wife! This couldn’t be.

“I thought you’d be on your way back to Boulder by now.” Marlene sat down at the table with a plate of eggs and soy sausage along with a cup of coffee.

Nora’s attention jolted back to the café patio. Sunshine, flowers, people milling around her. Marlene sitting down. She shoved the woman—Cole’s wife—to the back of her mind and tried focusing on Marlene. Right now, Lisa took precedence.

Nora waited until Marlene settled in and took a sip of her coffee. “Can you think of where Lisa might have hidden her camera or where she might have stored a copy of the footage?”

Marlene glared at her and slowly speared a piece of sausage and put it in her mouth. She chewed longer than necessary and swallowed. “You asked me that already. Let me repeat: You need to forget this nonsense and leave town.” The older activists pushed back from their table, their chairs scraping against the stone patio.

Nora leaned across the table. “You think Lisa was murdered.”

Marlene’s fork dropped to her plate with a clang. “I didn’t say that, but if it’s true, it’s the best reason I know for you to leave.”

Another boat of a vehicle cruised down the road and pulled in front of the outfitter’s. “That seems strange,” Nora commented.

Marlene twisted in her chair to watch seven people climb from the vehicle and head into the office. “What?”

“First Lee Evans pulled up and went in. Then a family, and now this group.”

Marlene whipped back around. “So?” She sounded uninterested, but she frowned anyway.

“So, none of them are dressed in outdoor gear. They’re in jeans or slacks. You don’t go down a river dressed like that.”

Marlene turned and studied the people entering the shop. “They’re tourists. Probably didn’t plan on a river trip today.”

Maybe, but something seemed odd. She dismissed it, turning back to Lisa and her camera. “Aside from the Canyonlands thing, can you think of any other reason someone would want to kill Lisa?”

Marlene picked up her fork with a shaking hand and poked at her scrambled eggs. “Why?”

Argh. Couldn’t she simply answer a question without probing for Nora’s hidden agenda? “Lisa had all this information about Mormons and women in the church. Maybe a religious fanatic hurt her.” The color drained from Marlene’s face.

Interesting, Nora thought. “Maybe something to do with Lisa marrying Rachel?” she continued.

Just then, Darrell rounded the corner, scowling at Lee’s pickup across the street. He took a few steps toward the street, then looked back at the café. He spotted Nora, pasted on a smile, and started toward her. Several heads turned in his direction and a few people whispered. Darrell stopped at a couple of tables as he headed toward Nora, shaking hands and throwing out greetings. He stepped over to Nora. “Just the person I wanted to see.”

He wore Levi’s that seemed to fit him perfectly, deliberately faded to look worn and casual without seeming old. His white shirt, the buttons at his throat open and the sleeves rolled gave a Saturday morning feel, giving him a studied, attractive look. His perfection rivaled Abigail’s and felt just as contrived.

Darrell smiled too warmly, felt way too familiar. “Since time is limited, I think we ought to get busy putting together a presentation with some of the stills Lisa sent us.”

She wanted to get back to her conversation with Marlene. The woman knew something she wasn’t telling Nora. “We’ve already decided the stills won’t have the impact of the film,” she reminded him.

Something in the road caught Nora’s attention. “What the … ?” It took her a couple of seconds to understand the looming catastrophe. She jumped up, her chair overturning on the patio, and took off in a run, brushing past Darrell.

The doors of the stock trailer stood wide open. One rangy Hereford cow nosed the back end of the trailer, looking as though she wanted to jump out.

Nora raced to the street, dodging vehicles on her way across the busy road. The cow dropped her two front hooves onto the pavement. Nora yelled to try to scare her back in. If the cow got loose in the road, it would cause trouble and someone—the cow, drivers, pedestrians—could be hurt.

The trailer door swung inward. The cow spooked and backed up. The door closed with the metallic clank of metal banging on metal. Lee threw his weight against it and slammed the latch shut.

Nora panted, hands on her hips. “Thank god. That would have been bad.”

Lee towered over her, fury surging from him. “What were you thinking?”

“Wha—?”

He tilted his head down the street toward the older activists, now lurking in the shade of a shop that rented four-wheel drives. “You and your buddies thought it would be funny to turn my cows loose to prove how bad they are? Did you think someone might be hurt? Did you even think about safety of the cows?”

“I didn’t—”

Darrell joined them. “Hey, let’s calm down. Nora was at the café with me.”

Lee turned on Darrell. “You’re involved in this?” He took a step toward Darrell and lowered his face so they were nose to nose.

“Now isn’t the time,” Darrell threatened.

“When then? You’re gonna have to answer for all this. For bringing these meddlers here,” Lee shot back.

Marlene stood on the far side of the road, watching with full attention. Her focus wasn’t on the men by the stock trailer, though. Nora followed her line of sight. The family with the four kids were climbing into their SUV, the doors slamming one by one.

Lee whirled, facing Nora. “Meddlers like you and your friend.”

“Leave her alone,” Darrell warned.

Lee, full of menace, leaned toward Nora. “Only you lost this round. That film Lisa was making is gone, along with all the money you spent on it.”

How did he get his information? It had to be from Rachel. Nora egged him on, defiant. “Lisa told me where she left her camera. I’ll finish that film.”

He folded his arms. “That so?”

Coupled with the disturbing phone conversation, Nora bristled with stupid bravado. “When we show it to the committee, they’ll vote to expand the borders and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Lee smirked at her. “Yep. Seems I heard that before.”