Forbidden Entry (33 page)

I tapped the screen and listened to Jenessa's message.
“Hi Mom! Did you see… pictures I…you?”
The dropped words confirmed poor cell service. After a few more seconds of silence and several unintelligible words, I made out,
“It's easy!”
The sound of her tinkling laughter cocooned my heart in melancholy. “
You can…it. Tap on…icon and scroll down. Hiked…. moonlight. ……old mine b… we got chased off… some…..trespassing…guys….nd of creepy ….really cold so…leave… early. I love you! Be home soon!”

I listened to the voice message several more times and my pulse rate ramped up as I interpreted her broken sentences. So, they'd been hiking at night and were chased away from an old mine somewhere. Which old mine? Good grief. The Bradshaw Mountains were pockmarked with hundreds of them. Had they stumbled upon a mining claim on BLM or Forest Service land? But wait. If they'd been chased away for trespassing that meant they'd been on private land. Was it possible that she'd been referring to Harvel Brickhouse, whom everyone described as unfriendly and reclusive? Would he have evicted them from one of his mining claims? If so, I'd be able to pinpoint exactly where they had been the day prior to their deaths. I sent the photos to my cell phone for future reference.

It was getting late, so I finally climbed into bed and lay there analyzing all the events of the past several days that had so far added up to zero. Wouldn't it be great if my luck changed and Harvel Brickhouse was able to provide some significant, breakthrough information? With questions circling endlessly in my head like a flock of ravens, I tossed and turned for a long time. I remember thinking just before falling into a deep sleep that tomorrow couldn't come nearly soon enough.

CHAPTER

29

BIZZ! BIZZ! BIZZ! The irritating buzz of my alarm jolted me awake. I slapped the button to silence it. Marmelade stretched, yawned and planted herself on my chest, purring. “Good morning, you little orange love bucket,” I murmured, stroking her soft fur. What a luxury to sleep in until seven o'clock! I turned towards the window and was treated to a spectacular sight. Dawn appeared as a thin, luminescent ribbon of scarlet on the horizon and swiftly spread across the sky, lighting the mountains on fire and painting the desert floor a luscious rose color. The phrase
Red in the morning, sailor take warning
—the time-tested precursor to an impending weather change — flashed through my mind. Instilled with eager anticipation, I threw off the covers and hurried through the morning routine, checking the weather forecast online several times. The report confirmed that a winter storm warning had been issued for the high country with predictions that it would blow in later tonight or tomorrow morning, with expectations of a foot or more of snow at higher elevations and up to two inches of rain in the lower deserts. That would be a bummer for my family, who'd been enjoying the warm sunshine. Hopefully, it wouldn't hang around as long as the previous storm.

If my day went as planned, I'd get back to town in time to meet up with them and Tally for a scrumptious barbeque dinner, providing he could escape the clutches of his wily mother. Dressed in black jeans, hiking shoes and a flannel, emerald-green shirt, I cinched the leather belt with the turquoise buckle around my waist and surveyed my reflection with satisfaction. Good. This way, I'd already be dressed for the evening when I returned from the McCracken Ranch. After a quick breakfast of toast and oatmeal, I hurried out into the frosty morning air and drove towards town, as always, delighting in the stark beauty of the sun-splashed Sonoran desert. And who could find fault with the glorious weather? But as I drew closer to the Desert Sky Motel, my stomach soured at what promised to be another emotional encounter with Marcelene. Considering her fragile emotional state, I feared her distress level would go off the charts when I shared the messages on her cell phone. Did I really want to be present when she listened to the final voicemail from her daughter? What choice did I have? And when I added to that the heartbreaking chore of transporting Fiona back to Raven Creek, I winced. It was all I could do to keep from turning around. But I didn't. Reluctantly, I got out and rang the front doorbell. Might as well get it over with.

Marcelene answered, clutching Squirt in one hand. She looked like hell-clad in a rumpled purple bathrobe, her pinched face colorless, the dark circles beneath her red-rimmed eyes more pronounced than ever. When I stepped inside, the pall hanging over the cottage weighed down on me heavily.

“I want to apologize for my behavior last night, Kendall,” she croaked, inviting me into the living room. “I…I guess I got a little hysterical when you showed me that picture.”

A little hysterical?
“It's understandable. I did text Marshall all the information. I haven't had a chance to touch base with him yet this morning.”

Looking glum, she sat down hard on the couch, still holding tightly to Squirt for comfort. I reached into my purse for the phone, but hesitated when she said, “Ginger told me you'd be by this morning to pick up the cat.”

“I was hoping maybe you'd changed your mind,” I said, struggling to subdue my agitation.

A look of genuine remorse crossed her careworn face. “I know you think I'm heartless, but I'm terribly allergic to her long fur and to be frank, I'm not much of a cat person. She'll be better off someplace else.”

Resentment burned my chest. I silently agreed that she was being heartless and waved away her explanation. “I don't agree with your decision, but I promised Ginger I'd do this.”

“Thank you.”

No point in trying to put it off any longer. Dreading her reaction, I pulled the phone out. “I don't know how much you remember from last night, but…we found the cell phone that Jenessa bought you.” I set it on the coffee table. “There are a couple of text messages, a few pictures and…a voicemail from her.”

Face blanched ghost-white, Marcelene stared straight ahead, unmoving, not seeming to breathe for long seconds. She pressed one hand against her mouth and I braced for another round of hysteria. But after a minute or so, she seemed to regain her composure. “She was going to teach me how to use it when she got back,” she whispered, barely loud enough for me to hear.

“If you want, I can show you how to access everything.”

“Maybe later,” came her morose response. “Or Bonnie can do it when she gets back. I don't think I can bear it right now.”

I really wanted to go over all the particulars in this strange story, but wondered at this point what good it would do. Marshall would more than likely question Stilts again, but to what end if there was no solid evidence of foul play? And if he had somehow played a part in their deaths, how had he carried it out and left not a scintilla of evidence behind?

“Are you going to be alright?” I inquired, studying her haggard expression. I had never seen anyone look quite as grief-stricken as she did at that moment.

“I don't know if I'll ever be all right again,” she answered faintly, bowing her head. “Just so you know, I was planning to have her funeral on Saturday, but because of your engagement party, I'm waiting until Sunday to bury my…sweet angel.” her voice cracked and as dismayed as I was with her lack of compassion regarding Fiona, my heart shriveled with remorse, and my earlier exasperation vanished. “That's really very kind of you. And…I'm so sorry about Jenessa and I'm doubly sorry I wasn't able to bring some closure for you. It hasn't been for lack of trying.”

She locked anguished eyes with mine. “I know that. I appreciate you trying and sacrificing this time you should have been with your family.” She cleared her throat and swallowed hard. “Children aren't supposed to die before their parents. This will haunt me the rest of my days on Earth.”

I couldn't think of a single thing to say to comfort her. “I'll go get the cat now.”

She nodded and her empty gaze turned inward. I left her there drowning in her grief, gripping the now-squirming Squirt, who appeared as anxious as I was to escape the somber atmosphere.

Dragging my feet, I made my way half-heartedly towards Jenessa's bedroom. The door was open this time and my throat closed up when I spotted Fiona sleeping peacefully on the bed. The carrier sat nearby on the floor. Oh man! Why had I ever agreed to this? As I approached, the cat's head popped up and when she fixed her luminous eyes on me, I got the distinct impression that she already knew why I was there. I was quickly learning that cats really do seem to possess a sixth sense and noted with wonderment that she didn't object when I picked her up and lowered her into the carrier.

As I drove out of town beneath a cobalt blue sky dotted with wispy white clouds, I kept glancing over at her little face. Was I imagining it, or was it possible for a cat to look heartbroken? I tried to ignore the burgeoning guilt gnawing at my conscience as Ginger's words echoed over and over in my head.
Nobody wants a three-legged cat. Why don't you take her?
I made it all the way to the freeway before I finally caved. Wrenching the steering wheel into a sharp U turn, I doubled back towards Castle Valley. There really wasn't any good reason I couldn't take her. And the fact that she only had three legs made not a bit of difference to me. She seemed like a sweet and gentle cat. Of course, I had no idea how Marmalade would react, but suspected she might actually appreciate having some company. It cost me an extra two hours by the time I detoured to the pet store. I had to purchase another cat box, more litter and food and some new cat toys, but the warm, fuzzy sensation glowing in my abdomen convinced me that I'd made the right decision. When I finally pulled into the driveway, my heart felt significantly lighter.

To be on the safe side, I closed Fiona in the spare room until I could be present for the formal introduction. “Make yourself at home,” I said brightly, watching her explore her new surroundings. Being the inquisitive, perceptive creature she is, Marmalade eyed me with intense curiosity when I stepped into the hallway and shut the door behind me. After pinning me with a long, questioning stare, she settled onto the floor and stuck her nose under the door. She knew. I had a strong feeling that they'd be playing “paw” pat-a-cake long before my return. Supremely satisfied, I hopped in the Jeep and resumed my trip alone, guilt-free and relieved that I circumvented the dismal task of having to return Fiona to Daisy's shelter. One less homeless cat for her to feed and care for, and a new friend for Marmalade.

Tooling along the freeway, I used the travel time to complete several phone calls. I filled Tugg in on yesterday's events at the office and then informed him that this was my final trip to the Bumble Bee area for the foreseeable future. When I told him I'd be back at my desk in the morning, his enthusiastic response conveyed that he was pleased by my decision. I hung up and dialed Walter. The welcome news that he was making rapid progress and would probably leave the hospital by day's end sent my spirits sky-high. Hooray! With Ginger back at the reception desk and Walter hopefully back to work by Friday, things were finally turning around in my direction again. For that I sent up a little prayer of thanks.

As I drew closer to the Bradshaw range, it was interesting to note that while the desert landscape was still awash in brilliant sunlight, billowy cathedrals of thunderheads pushed towards the majestic peaks. Would it soon be raining in Raven Creek? At least I wouldn't have to tackle that harrowing road again today. I sighed with relief. One of the best things about living in Arizona was the diverse topography. When winter hit at home in Pennsylvania, it stayed cold and grey and miserable until late spring. Not in Arizona. In a matter of a few hours a person could drive north to ski or play in the snow, then jump back in the car and return to the warm sunshine all in the same day. Heaven!

I zoomed through Black Canyon City and was primed to call Marshall Turnbull when the car phone rang. I glanced at the Caller ID on the screen and tapped the CALL button. “Hey, Marshall, I was just getting ready to call you.”

“That so? How're you doing today?”

“Okay. What did you think of the new information in my text?”

“I just hung up from talking to Marcelene about it.”

“Are you going to bring him in for more questioning?” I asked, accelerating up the hill past a slow-moving truck.

“We can certainly do that,” he intoned thoughtfully, “but like I told her, we have to be able to produce some kind of evidence, even circumstantial, in order to hold him and right now I don't have it. I can't arrest the guy for shooting off his mouth.”

“True, but now that you are aware of his background, it does throw a suspicious light on him, don't you think?”

“It could. But, first thing I have to do is verify if he really is John Higglebottom and then we'll go from there.”

Beep. Beep. I glanced over at the screen and saw that Brian was trying to reach me. That sparked my curiosity. “Marshall, I've got to take another call. Talk to you soon.”

“Sure thing.”

I touched the button again. “Brian, what's up?” I asked, easing off the accelerator to turn onto the Bumble Bee exit.

“I got into the emails on her laptop.”

“Fantastic! Anything jump out at you?”

“Mmmm, no, but I'm not sure what you're looking for. You want me to bring it by your office?”

“I'm not there right now. Did you check out her Photo folder?”

“Oh, yeah. Lots of 'em. Mostly animals, family, and just...I don't know. Stuff. She took a ton of the black cat. There's a shitload of photos of Nathan and a bunch of selfies of the two of them hiking, biking, riding ATVs…looks like they're at a lake in a couple…uh…”

The pavement ended abruptly and the Jeep bounced along the washboard dirt road once again. “Well, thanks for doing that,” I murmured, disappointed. “I was hoping you might find something significant.”

“Nothing much interesting that I can see…whoa! This last one's kinda weird.”

Senses on alert, I asked, “What do you mean?”

“There's a picture of Nathan leaning against a humongous rock that someone painted white to look like a human skull.”

I frowned. A skull? It took a few seconds for it to come to me but when it did, Daisy's words came rushing back to me. ‘
I'm scared of the head. Big scary head.
'

For no discernable reason, icy pinpricks of apprehension invaded my gut. “You're sure that's the last photo?”

“Positive. It was the last one uploaded from the Cloud.”

“Brian, would you do me a favor and text it to me? Cell service out here is sporadic at best, so, please do it right now. Include the date too.”

“Sure. On its way.”

I thanked him and searched for a place to pull over. The photo might or might not have any bearing on my investigation. Either way, I was eager to see it. There was no safe spot along the winding road, so I drove on, finally stopping in front of the old stone structure in Bumble Bee I'd passed by several times before.

I grabbed up my phone and swiftly checked my text messages. Nothing new yet. “Come on,” I whispered, unable to explain the anxious knot in my stomach. In reality it was only a minute but it seemed like thirty before I heard the familiar chime. I scrolled to the photo and a cold shiver brushed the nape of my neck. No wonder Daisy was scared. The ominous skeleton face painted on the skull-shaped rock was definitely unnerving, but more important was the date the photo was taken. If my calculations were correct, it had been taken the week before the young couple's bodies had been discovered. And if Daisy was correct, the rock was located somewhere between Raven Creek and the McCracken Ranch on property adjacent to the closed road. I studied the photo again. Judging by the soft lighting and long shadows it appeared to have been taken in the late afternoon.