A Kendall O'Dell Mystery

Chapter 3-1

CHAPTER

1

Ca-c***k! Ca-c***k! The sharp ring of hammering combined with the percussive whoosh of nail guns interrupted the pristine silence of the desert, echoing off the nearby coral-blushed cliffs, masking the soft thud of hoofbeats on the sandy terrain. Breathing in the invigorating air, I reached down and gave my mare a comforting pat on the neck. “Easy, girl,” I murmured in a soothing tone, noting the startled movement of her ears. I reined her to a sedate walk, marveling at the sea of yellow and orange Mexican gold poppies. Hard to believe it was February—technically still winter, but the mild weather felt more reminiscent of late spring mornings back home in Pennsylvania. Had it actually been only ten months since I’d arrived here? For a host of reasons it seemed as if I’d been here much longer, perhaps because so many remarkable events had transpired in that short time period.

My escape from living a debilitated life with asthma, plus a heart-crushing broken engagement in Philadelphia had unexpectedly landed me smack-dab in the middle of the sweltering Arizona desert where I’d accepted the reporting job at the Castle Valley Sun. On day one, I had jumped feetfirst into my first precarious assignment, which was immediately followed by four more mind-blowing stories that had shocked the residents of not only Castle Valley, but also the entire country. Now, here I was, engaged to Bradley James Talverson, the sexiest, wealthiest rancher in the state. Not too shabby.

Adjusting my wide-brimmed hat, I shaded my eyes against the blinding rays of early-morning sunlight and squinted at the framed-in skeleton of our new house rising majestically on the western slope of Sidewinder Hill. Our new house. A thrill of anticipation rocketed through me as I envisioned the completed dwelling Tally and I would soon share. Not only would it be a grand, four-thousand square feet, far more spacious than any place I’d ever lived in my entire twenty-nine years before, but the view—the commanding view of the rugged mountains and cactus-dotted landscape of the Sonoran desert we would relish each day left me in total awe. Perhaps most importantly, after the wedding we would be living a full mile and a half away from Tally’s not-quite-right-in-the-head mother. For me, that was not nearly far enough. As my dad had jokingly suggested, another ten miles further would have been preferable. Good, but fifty would be even better! I could not suppress the surge of mischievous delight. “You are so evil,” I chided myself.

Fifteen minutes later, as we began our ascent up the rock-strewn slope, the din grew progressively louder. Starlight Sky continued to toss her head nervously as we angled higher along the newly-graded road that just weeks before had been a narrow horsetrail and would soon be a paved driveway. Ahead at the job site, an assortment of pickup trucks—all makes, models and colors—along with two white panel trucks stood parked at odd angles in any available spot. The place bustled with contagious energy to the contrasting strains of Mexican and country-western music. At least a dozen men, some wearing hard hats and others ball caps, scurried about carrying out their appointed tasks.

I looked around. No sign of Tally yet. I fished my cell phone from my jacket pocket while reining in Starlight Sky. Eight-fifteen. Crap. Was he going to be a no-show to discuss the house plan changes with our architect? He had been saddled up and ready to join me before Jake, his long-time ranch manager, had shouted from the barn that one of the horses appeared to be sick. Tally had quickly signaled for me to go ahead and promised to join me as soon as possible. Afterwards, we planned a leisurely ride back to the ranch before I headed into the newspaper office, officially ending my well-earned three weeks away from work. During that time, I had completed physical therapy after having the cast removed from my left arm, broken during my last harrowing assignment. Tally and I had taken a rare vacation to the coast together where I’d made a concerted effort to stay away from my phone, ignore the news and allow my mind and body to relax. Now, back at the Starfire Ranch astride my gorgeous black-and-white dappled appaloosa, I felt ready to tackle the world again. I fired off a brief text to Tally. EVERYTHING OK THERE? STILL COMING?

“Howdy, Miz. O’Dell!”

I glanced up to see Bob Stockman, the stout job foreman, ambling towards me waving, an amiable grin lighting his round face. “Morning, Bob.” I dismounted and kept a firm grasp on the reins as my skittish mare paced, the bedlam obviously distressing her. “I guess Tally is going to be a little later than expected. Is Neil here yet?”

“He’s over there waitin’ for ya,” he said, nodding towards the construction trailer.

Sudden crashes sent Starlight Sky lunging sideways and tossing her head in agitation. “Whoa, baby!” I tightened my grip, mentally scolding myself. Perhaps bringing my high-strung mare up here was not such a good idea. “Would you tell Neil I’ll be with him in a few minutes? I’m going to tie her up over there in the clearing away from this noise,” I stated, pointing towards a pile of giant boulders.

“Sure thing.” He touched the bill of his cap and I led my prancing horse to a secluded clearing behind the rocks where lush green grass had sprouted up from the recent rains. The construction noise now considerably muffled, Starlight Sky seemed visibly more relaxed as I tied the reins firmly to the trunk of a scrub oak tree and let her graze in the soft morning breeze.

My text tone chimed and I glanced at Tally’s message. VET’S ON THE WAY. NOT SURE I’M GONNA MAKE IT. CALL U IN A BIT. My heart fell. That did not sound promising. I texted him back. SORRY! L Seconds later I got his thumbs up emoji.

“Damn it,” I murmured. Oh well. Might as well make use of the time.

I tapped out the office number and after two rings heard Ginger’s cheerful, “Mornin’, sunshine! Must be nice havin’ banker’s hours while the rest of us are here slavin’ our buns off.”

I smiled at her lighthearted teasing. “It is. Are you slavin’ your buns off?”

A faint giggle. “Not hardly. It’s been deader ‘n a doornail, especially with you and Tally both bein’ gone.” Her protracted sigh sounded wistful. “It sure ain’t gonna be the same here without him paradin’ his fine-lookin’ backside around the office.”

I couldn’t help but laugh before admonishing her tongue-in-cheek, “Ginger! I’m going to have to check, but that may be a sexist thing to say in the workplace.”

“Aw, flapdoodle. It’s true an’ you know it,” she fired back, snorting her infectious laughter.

It was true. I’d miss him being at the office as well, although he had only been working two days a week the past few months. Tally’s decision to retire from his position as senior sportswriter to return full-time to ranching had saddened the entire eight-person staff. “Okay, I admit it. He has a great butt. But I think Jim’s a pretty happy camper to be stepping into his shoe…ah…boots.”

“Happier ‘n a pig in a pile o’ you know what! You think Tally’s gonna miss us?”

“Of course! But, he’s been super busy at the ranch and he’s got his hands full getting the horses ready. He’s going to be slammed this week with buyers coming in from all over the country—all over the world actually.”

No response. “Ginger?” I glanced at the phone. Had I lost cell service? “Did you hear me?”

“What? Oh, yeah, yeah.” She sounded preoccupied. “Sorry, dumplin’, I been checkin’ out this website. Did you know that we all have a twin someplace in the world?” Before I could respond, she gasped, “Oh m’ Gawd! Will ya look at her? I uploaded my picture about an hour ago and my twin’s picture just popped up!”

“And is she your doppelganger?”

“My what?”

“Your mirror image?”

“Mmmm, sort of. This gal’s got freckles, dang near the same strawberry-blonde hair color, but she looks to be about 30 pounds thinner, a whole lot younger and appears like she might be about 6 inches taller ‘n me. Otherwise, we pretty much look identical.”

My burst of laughter startled Starlight Sky who eyed me warily. “Ginger, you are priceless and definitely one of a kind.”

“Am I takin’ that as a compliment?”

“Absolutely!”

“You want me to upload your picture and see what we git?”

“Not really,” I answered solemnly. “We’ve already seen my twin. Remember?”

“We have? When? Where?”

“Have you forgotten how much I resemble Tally’s…late wife?”

Silence. Then, “Oh, mercy me. How could I ever forgit that?”

I certainly had not forgotten the shocking outcome of my first assignment and all the ramifications for me, for Tally, and for the benevolent new publisher of our newspaper, Thena Rodenborn. Who could have known that my investigation into the disappearance of my predecessor and two missing teenage girls would uncover a diabolical scheme that would result in the death of her only son? Because of his culpability in the horrifying crimes committed, it had been not only a personal tragedy but, because of her vast wealth and social standing in the town, a mortifying experience as well. Since that fateful day, her behavior towards me had been cordial and yet reserved. I wondered if she would ever truly be able to forgive me. “Anyway,” I continued, “I’m gathering if you’ve got time to surf the Web, it must be another slow news day. Boy, as much as I’ve enjoyed having some time to myself, I feel as if I’ve been on the moon these past three weeks. Anything noteworthy happened?”

“Not much. Phone ain’t rung but a couple a times today.”

“Well, that’s just dandy.” It wasn’t really. The Castle Valley Sun was suffering from the same death spiral most print publications faced—plunging subscribership and advertising revenue. Even after our big staff meeting in January, where we’d all put our heads together and brainstormed imaginative ways to increase online subscriptions and advertising revenue, my co-editor, Morton Tuggs had somberly reminded us that print newspapers nationally continued to fold at an alarming rate and that drastic changes might have to be employed. Our failing financial situation had constantly gnawed at the back of my mind during my hiatus, siphoning away what should have been a blissfully relaxing time. What we desperately needed was another infusion of cash from Thena in order to stave off personnel reductions and stay afloat until we could implement some of our ideas and turn things around. Or, I thought morosely, if we could turn things around.

“I hear ya, girl,” she replied, audibly yawning. “I’d much rather have the phone ringin’ off the hook like the old days.” Pausing, she tacked on, “I guess our fate is in your hands again.”

“Why mine?”

“You know why. We all know you ain’t happy unless you’re chasin’ down one of them creepy stories you love so much. You git yourself in a world o’ hurt an’ subscriptions go way up for a spell!”

She was right. Each new undertaking had infused me with an adrenaline high that I was beginning to crave again. “You handed me my last scoop. Maybe you can dig up a new one up for me. The news has been duller than an old butterknife these past two months.”