Murder in Calico Gold: A Cedar Bay Cozy Mystery Page 2

  CHAPTER 4

  I can’t believe she’s going to give the ranch to my cousin, the cousin I’ve never met. I should be the one to have it for what her family did to Mother and me.

  Daniel Noonan was a tall lean man with grey shoulder length hair and a matching mustache. He went into the kitchen, took a bottle of bourbon out of the cabinet, poured himself a stiff drink and then walked into the living room of the cabin his aunt had bought for him. He paused for a moment, looking at the paintings that lined the walls, his paintings. He knew they didn’t appeal to most people who only wanted to see flowers or oceans or landscapes. Daniel preferred to paint what he saw in his mind. Several gallery owners had told him his paintings were too dark and disturbing, and they refused to exhibit his work.

  I know they’re dark, but if people had the childhood and life I’ve had, they’d paint the darkness too. There were no pretty things in my life when I was growing up.

  He took a large slug from the glass of bourbon he held in his hand and thought back to his childhood. He remembered how he’d been teased for never having a father come to any of his school events. Some of the other kids didn’t have fathers attend the events because their parents were divorced, but he’d never even had a father. For that matter, when he was young he never knew he had a relative other than his mother. Daniel had never forgiven his mother’s parents for not allowing any contact between him and other family members. When his mother was dying of cancer she’d told him about the family members he’d never met, and about the same time she’d asked Agnes, her sister, to look after him when she was gone. He felt it was about time somebody from the family paid some attention to him. He felt no guilt whatsoever about the cabin and the money that was being given to him every month by Aunt Agnes. Daniel felt it was long overdue, and she could easily do much more for him.

  Daniel visited his aunt once a month for dinner. If anyone were to ask him he would tell them that he and his aunt were very close, and that they had dinner at her house every month. What he wouldn’t tell them was the only reason he went there was to get the monthly “allowance” she gave him. In his mind he always referred to her as “the old biddy.”

  His needs were few, and the money Aunt Agnes gave him covered his expenses. Agnes had bought the cabin for him outright. When he realized how large the ranch and the house were, he was sure his luck was finally going to change. Daniel knew he had a cousin. His aunt had told him all about Mike Reynolds, how he was the sheriff of Beaver County, Oregon, and had just married a woman who had two grown children and owned a successful coffee shop in Cedar Bay, Oregon.

  What he never expected was that he would be left out of his aunt’s Will and her entire estate would be left to his cousin, Mike Reynolds. He still couldn’t believe what his aunt had told him about the terms of her Will at dinner the other night. In his mind the house and the ranch were his rightful inheritance. The thought that he would inherit it seemed absolutely fair to him. He was surprised she hadn’t asked him to move onto the property a long time ago. What did an old biddy like her need all that land and house for? No, it absolutely made no sense at all. The right thing would be to give it to Daniel. After all, Agnes had inherited it from her parents, and her parents were the reason his mother had to work two jobs to support them and save for him to go to college. It never occurred to him that maybe it was time for him to take care of himself. First his mother had taken care of him, and now his aunt had assumed the responsibility of caring for him.

  The more he thought about the cousin he’d never met, Mike Reynolds, inheriting the property, the madder he got. His aunt had effectively dashed his dreams, and she should pay for it. The corners of his mouth turned up in a sinister smile as a plan slowly began to develop in his mind.

  CHAPTER 5

  After they left Lucky Luke’s, Mike said, “Kelly, I’ve got to get some gas for the car. I had no idea it was almost on empty. There used to be a gas station about a block away. I’ll see if it’s still there.”

  Kelly and Mike saw the old gas station at the same moment. “Mike, this is like a step back into the past. I haven’t seen a station like this in years.”

  They stared in amazement, taking in the stone building with the two yellow pumps out in front. An American flag fluttered in the breeze on a pole next to the pumps. There was a little office on the left side of the building and a garage on the right. The windows didn’t look like they’d ever been washed and were yellow with age. Mike pulled in next to one of the pumps, got out of the car, filled the gas tank and walked into the little office.

  “Be $48.24,” the old man with leathery skin and a full white beard said as he took a deep drag from the cigarette anchored between his lips.

  That’s why I couldn’t see in the windows. They’re not yellow with age but with smoke from his cigarettes.

  He raised his head and peered at Mike through his bifocals. “Son, you look kinda familiar. From around these parts?”

  “No. I’m visiting my aunt, Agnes Johnson. She lives about a mile out of town.”

  “Now I remember ya’. Yer’ Agnes’ nephew. Ya’ used to come in here with yer’ aunt and uncle when ya’ were visitin’ for the summer. What brings ya’ here now?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember your name.”

  “Name’s Ralph, same as it’s been forever. So yer’ Agnes’ nephew. Ya’ come to help her or what?”

  “Help her with what?” Mike asked.

  “Try to keep her property. Coupla’ people want it real bad. John Wilson, the rancher south of her property wants it for water, and some out-of-town developer wants to put a golf course on it.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding! A golf course on the Robertson Ranch? Well, I don’t know anything about that. She called me the other day and asked me to come down here. She said she had some things she wanted to talk to me about. I recently remarried, and Aunt Agnes couldn’t make it to the wedding, so my wife and I decided to visit her.”

  “She could probably use some help from ya’. She’s got her thinkin’ in the right place, unlike a lot of these newbies in town. Actually, she’s kind of a living legend in this town.”

  “Ralph, what’s happened to Calico Gold? I remember it as a sleepy little town, but it sure doesn’t look that way now.”

  “Ya’ got that right. Big money comin’ in here. Ya’ probably saw that fancy schmancy bed and breakfast on the outskirts of town and some of the others. Got some people here who wanna make Calico Gold into ’nother Napa. Lots of wineries around these parts, even made some of the old gold mines into tasting rooms. Them rich investors figger all the big spenders from places like San Francisco will come here and go wine tasting. Pretty soon I’ll bet there’ll be a T-shirt shop selling shirts that say ‘I tasted golden wine in Calico Gold.’

  “There’s a bunch of us that don’t like it. Yer’ aunt’s one of ‘em. Big bucks wanted me to, what’s the word, oh yeah, modernize my gas station. Said it was too old fashioned. Told ‘em to stick their nose in someone else’s bizness, that I wasn’t doin’ nothin’ of the kind. Like this old station just as it is, I do. Me and it been through a lot together.”

  “I like it too. It brings back a lot of old memories. So who’s behind all of these changes? You keep referring to them as big bucks. Got any names?”

  “They ain’t never had the courage to say who’s behind it. Kind of smoke and mirrors. Who knows? Maybe a coupla’ people here in Calico Gold wanted to get rich and approached some investors from San Francisco or Los Angeles.” He was interrupted by the roar of a motorcycle traveling at a high rate of speed down Main Street.

  “What the heck? That’s something I never saw in Calico Gold when I was visiting. Speeding motorcycles. Is that one of the tourists?”

  “Nah. That’s Gary Sanders. He’s a Vietnam vet who lives in that shack on yer’ aunt’s property. When he came back from Nam he lived with his mother, Jessica, in her house. She died, and he found out she’d been renting the ho
use. Didn’t have no money or a job, so yer’ aunt said he could live in the shack on her property that’s next to the stream. Yer’ aunt and his mother, Jessica, were real close.”

  “I knew she used to let some of the vets live there while they got back on their feet.”

  “I’d say she’s a soft touch. That Gary’s a bad apple. Came back from Nam and was never the same. Got a big ol’ mean streak in him and a temper that would make a junk yard dog look like a cuddly little puppy. Gets liquored up, and all he wants to do is fight. Can’t tell ya’ how many times he’s been kicked out of the Roadhouse Bar. Think everyone in town would like to see him leave.”

  “Does he help my aunt around the ranch?”

  “She says he does. Don’t think so. These days she leases out almost all of her ranch to a coupla’ local ranchers who run cattle on it. Not much for him to do. Might muck the horse stall once in a while, but that’s ‘bout it. She pays a coupla’ people from the church to go out to her house and clean it every week. Yer’ aunt’s still driving the old pickup she’s had for years, and she’s got that big dog she always brings with her when she comes to town.”

  “Ralph, I don’t want to be late to my aunt’s. Thanks for the information. See you later.”

  “Somethin’ I can do fer ya’ or yer’ aunt, let me know. Glad yer’ here. She can use ya’.” He gave Mike a half salute and looked out the window at the Lexus that had pulled in behind Mike’s car. He shook his head. “Don’t that take all? See what I’m talkin’ ‘bout?”

  “Yeah, I sure do. I’ll see you in a few days.”

  On the way to the ranch he told Kelly about his conversation with Ralph.

  “Wonder if that’s why she wanted you to come for a visit.”

  “Don’t know sweetheart, but we’ll find out in a few minutes,” he said as he turned down the lane that led to the Robertson Ranch.

  CHAPTER 6

  It had not been an easy day for Judge Susan Lane. Difficult attorneys, cases where the law was hazy, and a frantic call from Richard Martin, all added to her stress. She’d told Richard she’d call him tonight. She knew what he wanted. She’d been promising him she could do something about the Agnes Johnson situation, but she wasn’t exactly sure what she was going to do.

  Agnes was not only refusing to sell her property to Richard or even to meet with him to look at the plans the golf course architect had made, but she was also funding Huston Brooks in his campaign to unseat Susan in the upcoming election. Susan knew the judge’s race might be close, but as an incumbent she felt she had the edge. With regard to the Agnes Johnson situation, Richard had promised her if she could get Agnes to sell him the property, he could make enough off of it to be able to afford to divorce his wife and marry Susan, but time was running out. She looked at the phone and then poured herself a glass of wine, nervously running her fingernail, painted fire engine red, around the rim of the glass.

  Might as well get this over with, although I know pretty much what he’s going to say. He’s going to want to know what I’ve done about Agnes, and that hasn’t been much.

  “Richard, it’s Susan,” she said a moment later. “Sorry I couldn’t talk when you called earlier, but I was in the middle of a difficult situation in court. The defense and the prosecution attorneys were about to come to blows, and I was trying to mediate it. How are you tonight?”

  “Sounds like you had a bad day. Sorry, but time’s beginning to run out on this Agnes Johnson property. My financial backers are getting antsy, and I want to know exactly what you have in mind, so I can reassure them that the golf course will be built. Don’t forget that I’m backing your re-election. What’s the status?”

  “I’m in a bit of a difficult position myself,” Susan said. “You know I can make sure you get all of the easements, entitlements, and other things you need, but my opponent in the upcoming race for my judge’s seat is being funded by Agnes Jonson. He’s very anti-development and wants to keep Calico Gold just the way it is. He’s completely opposed to a golf course being built on her property. Naturally I’m not number one on her list of people she wants to do things for.”

  “Frankly, Susan, even though I promised I’d get you the funds needed for your campaign, I have to tell you I really don’t care about your judge’s seat. We have an agreement, and you need to keep your end of the deal. If I’m going to divorce Denise, that property has to be developed. And if that property isn’t developed, I’m going to have to stay with Denise. It’s as simple as that. If I were to get divorced without it being developed, Denise would get the majority of our assets, because a good attorney would make a case that Denise’s inheritance provided the funding for most of our assets. That would be true and believe me, she has the documentation to prove it. Matter of fact, I would be darned near penniless, and I don’t think you want to marry a man who’s penniless. Your champagne tastes would have to come down a few notches. Don’t think you’d like shopping for your St. John knit suits on eBay rather than at Nordstrom’s in San Francisco.”

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about this, Richard, and I have a plan. You’re simply going to have to trust me. This is probably one of those times that the less you know about something, the better off you’re going to be.”

  “All right, Susan. You know the landscape there better than I do, but let me make it very clear to you that something needs to be done and sooner rather than later. I can’t wait much longer. I’m going to tell my financial backers that we should be able to get the property in about a month. Make sure you meet that requirement, or that will be the end of the Lane-Martin relationship.”

  “I promise, Richard. Agnes Johnson will not be a problem in a very short time. You can tell your backers that.”

  “Thanks, sweetheart. I knew I could count on you. Just think what it will be like when we’re together all the time. All that’s standing in our way is Agnes Johnson, and if you’re unable to take care of the situation, I will. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, I understand. I’ll talk to you in a few days.”

  Now I just need to find someone to carry out my plan, Susan thought as she reached for her glass of wine.

  *****

  Richard ended the call and wondered if Susan would be able to deliver on her promise. If not, he would have to take things into his own hands. He’d give her twenty-four hours. That was it. He couldn’t afford to wait any longer. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done something that didn’t adhere to the letter of the law, but it was the first time he’d ever contemplated eliminating someone so he could have what he wanted.

  Stupid woman. She’s putty in my hands. Like I’d marry a small town judge who looks as cheap as she does with her brassy dyed hair and skirts that are several inches too short. Don’t think she’s familiar with the word “class.” Denise may have her problems, but she definitely has class. Susan’s the key to sidestepping a lot of the technicalities involved with developing a property like the Robertson Ranch, but Susan as a wife? Don’t think so. I have far bigger plans than marrying Susan Lane of Calico Gold, but I’ll continue to play her like a fish on the line until I get this project built.

  He smiled, thinking how smart he’d been to figure out how he could get around the technicalities and zoning regulations involved in converting an old historic ranch into a golf course. A lonesome judge was his answer, but it was only a short-term answer. He knew if she wasn’t able to produce what he needed, he’d have to resort to some rather unsavory measures.

  CHAPTER 7

  “Mike, the house is huge! Even though you’re over 6’ 2”, you’re still going to feel small in it, just like when you were a kid. Actually, it’s one of the most beautiful Victorian homes I’ve ever seen. Look at it. She’s really kept it up. That’s unusual for someone to do when they’re in their 80’s.”

  Mike stopped the car at the end of the lane, and they both spent a moment looking at the beautiful old house. “My great-grandparents bought the ranch and built the house in 1902.
From what my mother told me, Victorian homes were all the rage in those days. You can see that it’s a three story house, and I used to imagine there were ghosts staring at me from all those windows on the top floor. Aunt Agnes told me it was known as a Queen Anne home because of the number of turrets and the large wrap-around porch. I can remember sitting out there with my aunt and uncle at night while my uncle pointed out the stars and named them for me. My aunt told me her grandparents made a lot of money in the gold rush, and they wanted to build a house which reflected their status. This house certainly did.”

  “Oh, Mike, it’s simply charming. I can’t imagine how long it must have taken to build it. It has a number of different kinds of designs and styles of windows. It’s so unique it should be preserved for future generations.”

  “I agree. If what Ralph said is true and someone wants to buy the property and make it into a golf course, I sure hope they’ll preserve this house.”

  The front door opened just as Mike stopped their car on the circular driveway in front of the house, and a tall woman in jeans with her white hair pulled back in a bun came down the front steps, followed by a tri-colored collie dog with a coat that looked like it had just been brushed.

  “Mike, I’m so glad to see you. Thank you for coming. Welcome to the Robertson House,” she said as she put her arms around both of them. She stepped back and said, “You must be Kelly. Mike told me you were beautiful, but that doesn’t do you justice,” she said to the dark haired full figured woman who wore her hair pulled back and held by a tortoise shell clip, her large green eyes sparkling with intelligence.

  “Thank you very much. I’m so glad to finally have the chance to meet you. Mike speaks so highly of you.”

  “We had some good times here when he was younger. This is my friend, Sam. You haven’t met him Mike, he’s the latest in the long line of collies we’ve had for years. You’re probably tired, so let me show you to your room, and then you can come downstairs, and we’ll have dinner. You probably want to rest for a little while, so take your time. I’ve got a leg of lamb in the oven with some roasted vegetables and some apricot bread. Hope that’s all right with you.”