Peril by Ponytail (A Bad Hair Day Mystery) (4 page)

“Children, keep it down,” Raymond chided. “We’re trying to have a conversation here.”

“Why does this fellow worry you so much?” Dalton asked, voicing the thought in Marla’s head.

“The man has it in for me, and don’t ask why because it’s nobody’s business but mine. I’ll need more approvals for my construction. If the council refuses to issue even one permit, it’ll put us behind schedule.”

“And how does that benefit Donovan?” Wayne said in a frustrated tone.

Marla figured he must have asked his father before about Hugh Donovan without satisfaction. What had happened between the two men to cause animosity?

“He hopes I’ll run out of money if he delays things long enough. I’ve had offers to buy that property, and I suspect he’s behind them. If the council doesn’t heed him, he’ll find other ways to shut me down.”

“Any word on the missing guy from the ghost town?” Wayne asked.

“Nope. The man never returned to his bunk. You know what I’m thinking.”

Dalton twirled his fork and then put it down. “Surely you don’t believe this other rancher caused the man’s disappearance?”

“Hugh is capable of anything in order to stop me.” Raymond’s brows drew together like two mating caterpillars. “His claim about the cattle being sick is hogwash, if you ask me.”

“Doesn’t your ranch have cattle, too, Uncle Ray?”

“You bet. We have five hundred head of cattle, mostly breeding stock. We sell the cows. Up on the mountain, we lease sixty thousand acres from the forest service.”

Impressed, Marla stared at him. “How many people do you have working the cattle?”

“It takes two employees except for periodic roundups, when we need six to eight men.”

“Wow, that’s a big difference from the number of employees at the dude ranch. Carol said you have one hundred and twenty people on the staff. What do they all do?”

Raymond’s eyes crinkled as he eased into the subject. “We have our wranglers, of course. Then there’s housekeeping and lodging, food and beverage, our naturalist who runs the nature center, directors for our kids’ programs, fishing and hiking specialists.”

“Fishing?” Dalton’s brows lifted. “Where is there water?”

“We have a pond fed by a natural spring on the ranch, and there are lakes in the area.”

“So Wayne is the general manager, and Carol manages the finances?” Marla sought to clarify the different positions. “Who else is in charge?” Did Raymond take an active role in the ranch’s day-to-day supervision, or was his focus solely on the ghost town project?

“Besides Carol and Wayne, we have ten other managers. They’re all capable of functioning in multiple roles. I’m confident they can handle things, although I am concerned about this latest rash of incidents. It’s too coincidental that we’re having similar problems over at Craggy Peak.”

“I’m hoping Dalton can help us, Dad,” Wayne said, leaning back as Carol and Annie delivered steaming platters to the table.

“How many visitors can the ranch accommodate?” Marla piped in, curious to know.

“At full capacity, we can house up to two hundred and twenty-five people.” Wayne helped himself to a heap of roasted potatoes and then passed the dish. “The buildings are spread out over seven hundred acres.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed how they’re scattered around. How many guest quarters are there?”

“One hundred and eighty. Some are part of multi-unit buildings, and others are stand-alones, like the haciendas.”

“Can I ask a delicate question?” Dalton interceded. “Do you still have a mortgage on the place?”

Raymond’s face reddened. “No, sirree. We are completely debt-free. However, it’s not always easy to make ends meet, especially during the summer months. That’s why I was hoping to get the ghost town running as a tourist attraction. It would bring more people into the area, and some of them would need a place to stay.”

“What about Craggy Peak? That must occupy a big piece of land.”

“The town was happy to get a buyer after foreclosing on the previous owner, who’d neglected to pay his taxes. I made an outright purchase.”

“Is that so?” Dalton looked as though he wanted to ask more, but he clamped his lips shut and reached for a slice of corn-bread.

An awkward silence fell, while Marla wondered where Raymond had obtained the funds to buy Craggy Peak if he was barely making ends meet at the dude ranch. Not only did he have to purchase the land and deserted buildings, but then there was the construction crew to pay and permits to acquire. He might even have had to pay those back taxes.

Financing wasn’t the only subject Raymond avoided. He hadn’t once asked about his sister, Kate. Had Dalton noticed his uncle’s reticence to speak about his mother?

“Can you explain to me how your families are related?” she said in a bright tone to get the conversation rolling again. She lifted her fork and stabbed into a stalk of asparagus.

“My mother is Uncle Ray’s sister,” Dalton said in a subdued tone. Clearly familial relations weren’t a topic he was eager to pursue. “You knew that.”

“Yes, but tell me again about your ancestry.”

“Our heritage dates back to Ireland.” Wayne shared a hooded glance with Dalton. “My great-grandfather, Paddy O’Hara, immigrated to New York. He married a woman named Rose Sherman and they had one daughter, Hannah.”

Rose Sherman?
Marla sipped her Arizona-made red wine. That sounded like a Jewish name. Could an Irish Catholic have married a Jewish bride back in 1800’s New York? From Raymond’s high cheekbones, she might have guessed he had Indian blood. Huh. This family might have a more interesting background than she’d surmised.

“Go on.” She gave Wayne an encouraging nod.

“Hannah married Sean Campbell, and they had two children—Kate and my dad.”

Raymond cleared his throat. “Let’s not dredge up the past, folks. What matters now is that you’re here, Dalton, with your lovely bride. Sorry I couldn’t make the wedding, but at least Wayne and Carol represented the family.”

“We were sorry Annie couldn’t come, either.” Marla offered her female cousin by marriage a friendly smile. Did Annie sense the undercurrents of tension here, too?

“You came to us, so I got to meet you after all.” Annie grinned back at her.

“It’s impressive that you run your own diet clinic. How come you’re not working on the ranch? It appears to be the family business.”

“It isn’t my thing. I had weight issues when I was young, despite the exercise I got riding. I wanted to counsel teens about good nutrition, especially when obesity is such an epidemic in America. Good eating habits have to start early.” She aimed a meaningful glance at her sister-in-law. “It’s hard to watch your diet around here when every other meal is a steak.”

“Hey, the men need hearty food,” Carol said. “They work it off during the day.”

“Carol, we’ve discussed this before. You don’t want them to drop from a heart attack. There are healthier choices that can be just as tasty.”

“You’re right. That’s why I made this lemon chicken. You gave me the recipe.”

“The last time I ate here, you served ribs. You know I don’t eat red meat.”

“You liked the corn and barley dish, though. When you cook for a family, you’ll understand.”

Raymond snorted. “That’ll be the day. You might have to wheel me down the aisle by then.”

“Don’t start, Dad.” Annie threw her napkin on the table.

“Annie, tell me about your nutrition clinic,” Marla said to mollify her. “How did you get started? I own my salon and lease the space from our landlord. We just opened an adjacent day spa earlier this year.”

They spent a pleasant few minutes chatting about business ownership.

“Promise me you’ll come into town soon,” Annie concluded, her eyes sparkling. “I can’t wait to show you around.”

“And I can’t wait to work on your hair. We’ll have a fun day together.”

Although Carol was closer to her age, Marla felt more akin to Annie, a businesswoman like herself. But Marla wasn’t single anymore, and she had a stepchild now. Her circumstances had changed, and so had her meal preparations. Cooking for three instead of one meant making modifications. She could relate to both Carol and Annie’s viewpoints.

“Speaking of meals, I guess big breakfasts are a cowboy thing,” she said to change the subject. “What can we look forward to having on the menu at the ranch?”

“Breakfasts and lunches are buffets, so you’ll have lots of choices.” Wayne’s tone held relief, as though he were eager to speak on a more comfortable topic. “Our chef gets a high rating so I’m confident you’ll like the food. You be sure to tell me if something doesn’t set right by you, though. We’re always on the lookout for improvements.”

“Where do the wranglers eat? You’d mentioned a staff cafeteria?”

“That’s right. I’ll eat there sometimes when I’m working late. It’s open for all three meals daily.”

“Do the managers rotate shifts? Who’s on night duty?” Dalton asked, putting his last forkful into his mouth.

“We have a security detail from ten at night to six in the morning. And one of the managers is always on duty, plus a guy from maintenance.”

“I imagine the wranglers have to get in early to ready the horses for the day?”

Wayne handed his empty plate to his sister, who’d risen to help Carol clear the table. “They let the horses in from the outer corrals around seven in the morning. If you’re up early, head over to watch. The staging is an impressive sight, all those beauties stampeding together in one direction.”

“How many horses do you keep on the ranch?” Marla asked, curious despite her reservations about riding. It would have to be a decent number to accommodate so many guests.

“We have one hundred and eighty when we’re full. In the summer, we send some of our stock to Colorado and northern California. In turn, we’ll lease from other ranches during our peak season. We help each other out.”

“But not you and Hugh Donovan?” Dalton asked in a casual tone that made her wonder about his purpose. If she knew him, he had an ulterior motive behind his question.

“I wouldn’t ask Hugh Donovan if we were down to our last mare,” Raymond roared. “That man is up to no good. I had another inquiry about buying Last Trail not that long ago. It came from a real estate agent who didn’t mention her client’s name, but I’ll bet my boots it was him. He’s after both of my properties.”

Hmm, could this Donovan person be responsible for the incidents plaguing the ranch plus the ghost town? Did the rival rancher really hope to ruin Raymond financially so he’d be forced to sell his holdings? She wondered again where Dalton’s uncle had gotten the cash for his purchase of the ghost town.

“We met a wrangler today named Jesse Parker. He’s a young fellow,” Dalton said to Raymond. “How long has he been working for you?”

“Five years. The man is competent and well-experienced.”

“He seemed unnerved by the news about that forest ranger.”

Ah, now Marla understood where Dalton was steering the conversation.

Raymond rubbed his face. “Who wouldn’t be? Garrett Long was a solid citizen and a dedicated forest ranger. I find it hard to believe he’s gone.”

“Hadn’t you and he been riding buddies? The sheriff found a note to call you in the guy’s pocket.”

“He probably wanted to ask about his horse. The animal had been limping, and I had our vet take a look at him. It was a simple problem that was easily fixed. Garrett kept his horse at our ranch.” Raymond lowered his head. “I guess his wife will own Sierra now. I need to give Sherry a call to find out about funeral arrangements.”

“I’m not clear about the circumstances of his death,” Dalton said, his tone persistent. “The man fell off a ledge on the mountain?”

Oh, no,
Marla thought. Was her husband so bored already that he needed a murder case to solve? As far as they knew, the ranger’s demise was an accident.

He was too far for her to kick him under the table. If she could get him alone, she’d give him distraction enough so he wouldn’t think about work.

“We don’t know the details. I feel bad for his family.”

“Did he have any children?”

“Sherry had a son from a previous marriage. She and Garrett never had kids together.” Raymond stretched and stood. “Excuse me a moment. Nature calls.”

He strode away while Dalton stared thoughtfully after him. Marla’s gaze lit on a pair of animal horns mounted over the living room’s fireplace. Were those real? She shuddered at the thought of someone shooting a live elk or other creature.

Needing to be useful, she rose and strolled into the kitchen to help Carol and Annie. Carol was loading rinsed dishes into the dishwasher, while Annie scooped whipped topping onto plated slices of blueberry pie.

“How did Raymond hear about Garrett Long?” she asked Carol in a low voice.

Had the sheriff found him at the ghost town? Or had he already gone home? Actually, where did Carol’s father-in-law live? Or Annie, for that matter? They couldn’t all reside here with Carol and Wayne’s family. True, the house seemed enormous with a whole lower level she hadn’t seen, but would Carol tolerate them living there?

“Wayne called to tell Raymond the news before the sheriff spoke to him. It’s a shame. Garrett was a fine man. He truly loved the forest and was devoted to its protection.”

“As a ranger, I’d think he would be familiar with the territory and its hazards.”

Carol shot her a narrowed glance. “What are you implying?”

“He should have been more careful if he knew the ground was unstable.”

“Marla, it’s your honeymoon. Don’t stray from the reason why you’re here.”

Was that a subtle warning, or could Marla be reading things into these discussions that weren’t there? Could a person really be behind the incidents on the ranch as Wayne suspected, or had he become paranoid like his dad?

It did seem odd that the ghost town was also experiencing a jinx of sorts. She’d like to meet Hugh Donovan, the source of their suspicions, but that encounter seemed unlikely.

The children’s laughter reached her ears. They’d been excused to return to the family room and were playing a video game on TV. Marla’s stepdaughter, Brianna, loved the tablet computer she’d gotten from her grandparents for her birthday and often had her head bent over the device. Young people became attached to their technology so early these days.