Dead Man Hand (A Dead Man Mystery Book 3) Read online

  We ended up with a copper-tone GMC Tahoe, and it suited Granny perfectly...after she made sure there was a set of them there tire chains she'd heard they used up North stowed with the spare tire. Outside the terminal, she beamed at the rent-a-car driver when he handed me the keys, her face nearly disappearing in the wrinkles that deepened with her delight at our transportation. We had to listen to Miss Molly's gripes for another few minutes, until we got out of the terminal area and found a service station. Then I stopped and set up her portable litter box in the back of the Tahoe and took Trucker for a walk. Finally, we hit the highway out of town with what I felt was plenty of daylight left to drive to Red Dollar.

  Granny gazed out the passenger side window. In the city, the snow was slushy and gray, but outside of town it lay pristine and gleaming in the winter sun on the arid landscape. I thought Granny was enjoying looking at the snow, until she said, "We got's to try out one or two of them before we leave. Joshua, he said he goes once in a while, usually first of the month."

  "What?" I questioned as I negotiated an intersection to get on the correct route.

  "Why, them casinos," she said. "Ain't you been seein' all them signs? Got's to see if them machines are any loosy-goosier than them ones over in Shreveport."

  I grinned. "You're on, since I got a nice royalty check last month. And Twila's started to like playing the video slots. We'll talk her into the penny ones and she'll be fine."

  "Ha! Them penny ones'll eat up your dollars just as fast as the quarter ones."

  "Yeah, but she has fun when she hits the bonus. You know how she loves a good movie. And maybe we can find her one of those black cat hex slots."

  "That'll work," Granny agreed. "She'll forget how much she's stuck in the machine once that cat starts up and down the ladder chasin' that there crow."

  Once we left Albuquerque, the two-lane state highway ran through extremely desolate mountainous country, beautiful in its own way. Granny kept watch and pointed out the herds of deer and antelope, elk and even buffalo, so we weren't bored. The only problem occurred when Trucker adamantly insisted on another potty break, and we had to find a pull-off without any animals close by. He's mostly an obedient Rottweiler, but the animals we passed kept him as rapt as Granny. He even woofed and lunged back and forth across the backseat once in a while. He'd seen deer before, but never elk, buffalo or antelope, and I wasn't sure I could hold onto his hundred-and-fifty pounds if he decided to forget hiking his leg and confront one of those larger animals to see who was boss.

  We managed the break reasonably well, even though Trucker sniffed the air the entire time he watered a large boulder. I got him back into the Tahoe a split second before a herd of elk walked out from a stand of pine.

  Since I can't drive and talk on a cell phone any better than some people can walk and chew gum at the same time, I took advantage of the stop and watched the majestic elk while I called ahead before I got back on the road. Danny answered after three rings.

  "Hi," I said in response to his hello. "This is Alice Carpenter. We're supposed to meet you in Red Dollar."

  "And not a minute too soon," Danny replied. "Do you know what happened this morning?"

  "Well, no," I said, foregoing elk watching when I caught the tense tone in his voice. "How could I?"

  "Oh, right," Danny replied. "Maddie had to go to the ER in Santa Fe. She thought she was having a heart attack, but the paramedics said it was just nerves...stress, you know. She swore they were wrong, so they took her down there to be safe."

  "And Maddie is...?"

  "The real estate lady," he said with a twinge of exasperation. "I told you about her."

  "No, you probably told Twila," I refuted. "So what caused her problem?"

  "The hotel, of course." His annoyance persisted. "The reason you're coming here."

  Patiently—somewhat, anyway—I said, "What happened?"

  "Same old shit, only worse this time," he explained. "Maddie had a hot prospect out of California fly in to look at the property. But when they went inside, everything was a mess. Lamps broken, furniture tossed around. Looked like someone'd had a party in the saloon. Drank a dozen cases of beer, even got into the liquor. Left everything all over the place, empty glasses, bottles. Even the rec room was a mess, beer spilled all over the pool table. Maddie asked the buyer to wait outside, and she and I went upstairs to see if they'd done any damage to the guest rooms."

  "They?" I broke in.

  "The ghosts," he insisted.

  "Probably some kids in town," I told him.

  "Well, tell me this, then," Danny said. "Why was everything all put back into place and spotless when we came back downstairs after checking the guest rooms?"

  "I see."

  "So'd Maddie. She grabbed her chest and fell down right at my feet. That lost us the sale."

  I frowned for a second—not at the disturbance/non-disturbance. Ghosts definitely could have done that. Frankly, I wondered what Danny had been doing helping Maddie show the hotel. With a mental shrug, I decided to leave that question for now.

  "Are the current owners aware of this most recent happening?" I asked.

  "Karen—Mrs. Jamison—isn't staying here right now. She got a room over in Angel Fire. I called her. She'll meet us for dinner this evening and talk to you...if you still want to stay at the hotel."

  "Most definitely," I assured him. "That's what we're here for."

  Trucker let loose with a blast of barks and growls right beside my left ear, and I shrieked in response. The cell phone landed in Granny's lap, and I swiveled to grab Trucker's collar and jerk him away from the window. Ever try to drag a full-grown Rottweiler somewhere he doesn't want to go? He immediately lunged and broke my hold. I scrambled over the console into the backseat as Granny's cackles joined the cacophony. Miss Molly leaped out of my way, into the Tahoe's hatchback.

  "Trucker!" I began...and the dog shoved me aside as he roared his fury and dove into the driver's seat. I started to open the rear passenger door to take charge of him, but thankfully looked out the window to see what was causing his ferociousness first. Looked straight at a huge elk head, antlers so massive they extended halfway down his back. He stood sideways along the vehicle, his rear end against the front bumper. He lifted his head and bugled—for some reason, that's what they call it when an elk hollers. Then he smeared his nose against the driver's window as he gazed in at Trucker, as much of a snarl as an elk could manage on his face.

  "Hardy-har-har!" Granny chortled. "He must be in heat."

  "Rut," I corrected. "This time of year is when they mate."

  "Whichever," she said with a shrug. Then she said into the cell phone, "Nothin' to worry 'bout. We'll call you back in a minute."

  Snarling and growling, Trucker banged against the car door. The elk never budged. I grabbed Trucker's collar and hauled...again...and managed to drag him into the rear seat with me.

  "Behave!" I ordered. "Or I'll muzzle you!"

  That word worked. I'd only used the muzzle twice before—the first time when I took him in to get fixed and he'd turned snarly on the vet when the poor man tried to put him under. To this day, Granny believes poor Trucker knew what was going to happen. Now he whimpered and cringed against the far rear door.

  "Get out of here!" I shouted at the elk.

  "He's got a herd of cows with him." Granny nodded at the windshield. "Guess he's protectin' 'em."

  "We aren't gonna hurt his cows." I splatted my palm on the window in front of the elk's nose. "Get!"

  Only his eyes moved as he turned his gaze from Trucker to me.

  "Get!" I ordered again. "Take your cows and go!"

  "I think we's sittin' in front of his food," Granny said. She pointed her thumb over her shoulder to the side of the car. "Bunch of hay over here. Prob'ly ranchers feedin' their cows, but the elk thinks it's his and his family's food."

  "Shit," I muttered. Then I scrambled back into the driver's seat and started the vehicle. "Get out of here!" I yelled at th
e elk again.

  "Jist drive off," Granny said in a logical voice.

  "The way he's standing, if I move, his antlers might scratch the car," I said. "He has to step back first."

  "Had to leave my shotgun at home," Granny said. "They'da never let me through that high security they have now, after nine-eleven. But I guess I coulda put it in one of them locked cases and sent it with the luggage. That's how my nephew shipped his gun when he went over to Africa on that there safari."

  "What does your shotgun have to do...oh, I see. We could shoot in the air and run the elk off." I glanced at Granny and caught her eyeing the elk speculatively.

  "He'd look real nice over my fireplace."

  "Oh, for...I guess it's a good thing you don't have your shotgun."

  "Shotgun wouldn't work, anyway," she said. Take a rifle...a big 'un...to bring that old boy down. My nephew, he took a humongous rifle with him to Africa, case he run across a teed-off tiger."

  "Get!" I shouted again at the elk.

  He blinked at me and didn't obey.

  Granny reached over and pulled the keys from the ignition switch. A second later, the car alarm's blare split the air. Trucker set up a howl that broke off when he laid down on the seat and slapped his paws over his ears. But Miss Molly took up where Trucker left off, her screeches more earsplitting than the dog's howls. I covered my ears, too, and watched the elk hightail it back to his coven of cows. They raced away, heads high, majestic...at least in retreat.

  "You can turn the alarm off now, Granny!" I shouted.

  "Glad I 'membered that from when we lost your car at that there shoppin' center and had to turn on the alarm to find it," she said as she pushed the keychain button again. Blessed silence descended...until someone knocked on the driver's window. I jerked around again, wondering for a split-second how the heck that elk had gotten back here so fast. Furthermore, how it lifted a hoof to the window. But instead of elk's eyes, I gazed into the stern face of a man dressed unmistakably in a game warden's uniform. His broad shoulders and toned body left no doubt he kept in shape, probably to chase elk poachers.

  "Oh, crap," I breathed, then pushed the button to roll the window down. Of course, it didn't roll. Granny had the keys. I took them from her as I murmured in a warning voice, "Let me handle this."

  Key in the ignition, I rolled down the window. "Sir," I said before he could speak, "we—"

  "Can I see your identification?" he interrupted.

  "Of course, Officer," I said respectfully, hoping my politeness would make a difference in whether or not I had to pay a fine. "But we weren't trying to scare the elk. Well, we were, but it was only because—"

  "Identification," he repeated. "For both of you. And your papers on the animals."

  I sighed and stared around the vehicle for my purse. I had a bad habit of tossing it wherever and forgetting where wherever was. Granny picked up her purse from between her feet and had her driver's license out before I spied mine on the rear floorboard. I wiggled around to reach between the bucket seats. Trucker and Miss Molly had sense enough not to antagonize the game warden. Instead, they stared out the rear window, apparently fascinated by the lights whirling on the official pickup truck. Which I hadn't even noticed stop behind us.

  The game warden examined our identification and handed it back. "Tourists, huh? I suspected that from your vehicle's rent-a-car plates. The animals?"

  "I had to have their health records to fly them out here," I assured him as I dug out the envelope with Trucker and Miss Molly's records in it and handed it to him.

  He leafed through the records and handed them back. "And you're heading where?" he asked. "After you get done scaring the hell out of our elk?"

  "We didn't mean to," I repeated. "That male elk wouldn't get away from the car. I was afraid his antlers would scratch the paint if I moved!"

  "I's the one who set off the alarm." Granny held out her hands, wrists touching. "If you's gonna take someone in, it'd be me."

  A half-grin tilted his lips, and he shook his head. "I guess your explanation holds up. Where'd you say you were headed?"

  "Red Dollar," I told him. "We're ghost hunters. We've been called in to—"

  But I was speaking to his back. At Red Dollar, he'd frowned. When I got to ghost and even before hunters left my mouth, his face was as white as...well, a ghost. He jumped into his truck and barely missed the Tahoe's rear bumper as he squealed out of the pull-off, U-turned and headed away from us.

  "Huh," Granny said after a second. "Wonder what that there was all about?"

  I shrugged. "I guess he's afraid of ghosts. Anyway, at least he didn't fine us." I started the Tahoe and said, "Can you call Danny back while I drive? Find out where we're supposed to meet him."

  "'K-dokey."

  We hit Red Dollar well before dark, and although I was anxious to get to the hotel, we did as Danny asked and first stopped at the steakhouse on the edge of town. In deference to the freezing temperature, I left the engine running and car unlocked, since they'd only given us one set of keys. I didn't expect anyone would try to steal our car or luggage with Trucker on guard. I retrieved our warm coats out of the rear compartment and snugged both Granny and myself into them.

  "Do you need your walking stick?" I asked Granny, risking her irritation at my reminder of one of her infirmities.

  She replied pleasantly, though. "I took me a couple arthur-itis pills at that there last filling station. I'm good to go."

  The restaurant smelled wonderfully of steaks broiling over some sort of wood flames in an open pit in the center of the room. Hickory or mesquite, I thought. Granny and I paused at the Seat Yourself sign and I scanned the room until I noticed Danny in a booth near the back of the dining area. He looked the same as when we'd met Up North: five-ten, a bit portly and partly bald, brown hair lighter due to graying. He had been dressed in jeans and a sweater during our initial acquaintance, but now he wore a casual sports jacket and dark-blue shirt, no tie. He obviously didn't care about manners, since he was cutting into a huge steak on a platter in front of him.

  "Danny?" I said as Granny and I approached. He had the courtesy to swallow what was in his mouth before he stood to greet us.

  "Long time, Alice," he said as we shook hands. "And this lovely lady must be Granny Chisholm. Twila said you were coming with them."

  "You keep flatterin' me like that, youngster," Granny said, "and I might jist let you buy my steak."

  "I plan on paying for all our dinners," Danny assured us. "But where's Twila?"

  As we seated ourselves, Granny explained about Twila's delay. A waitress came over then and took our drink orders, and when she left, I asked Danny, "Karen's not coming either?"

  He shrugged and pushed the basket of yeast rolls over to us. "Help yourselves," he insisted. "They'll bring plenty more. And I'm not sure where Karen is. I called and got her voice mail twice. She was due here a half-hour ago. We were going to discuss the...ah...something else while we waited for you."

  "I hope she shows, since we need our room keys," I reminded him. "There's nowhere else to stay in Red Dollar. We'd have to go to Angel Fire or Red River."

  "I've already got keys for you," Danny said, then forked a huge bite of steak into his mouth. My own mouth watered, since Granny and I had subsisted on snacks we'd picked up at a convenience store on our drive here. We were sitting right where the fans in the open cooking area blew all those delicious aromas straight at us.

  Chapter 3

  Karen never did show. We finished off our steaks and even dessert while we discussed innocuous details such as the elk at the pull off and our flight. We finally gave up and asked the waitress for a Styrofoam doggie box for the scraps for Trucker and Miss Molly, then Granny and I strolled outside while Danny, as promised, took care of the check.

  Darkness had fallen, but the snow gleamed under a gorgeous full moon. Here in this tiny town, no factories or vehicle exhaust polluted the crisp whiteness or deep inkiness sprinkled with diamond pinpoi
nts overhead. Granny and I pulled our coats tighter as we enjoyed the beauty until Danny emerged.

  "I'll take you on over to the hotel," he said. "You two can go ahead and get settled while I try to find out what's happened to Karen. Hope she didn't have an accident. The roads are supposed to be clear, but you never know about Cimarron Canyon. Deer and elk wander out all the time, and it's a curvy, dangerous drive."

  "Wouldn't wanna hit one of them elk, even drivin' slow," Granny agreed.

  "If you would happen to hit one," Danny warned, "stay in the car and call for help. Those bulls can be dangerous when they’re wounded."

  Trucker scarfed up the scraps as we drove behind Danny to the hotel, and he even allowed Miss Molly to gnaw on a tidbit. That cat would turn her nose up if I offered her a bite of anything except chicken, but I glanced in the rear view mirror and saw her happily sharing steak with her buddy. We pulled in beside Danny's monstrous one-ton white pickup when he stopped in front of a two-story gray building. Rectangular, it covered somewhere around half a block and I recognized it from the pictures on the internet. Our haunted hotel. At last I'd made it here, but it didn't feel right not having Twila with me. I started to check my cell phone and see if she'd left a voice mail with her hotel information on it, since the display had shown no service several times during the trip from Albuquerque. But Danny opened the passenger door to assist Granny out.

  "I'll help you in with the animals, then come back for your luggage after you decide which room you want to stay in," he said. "There isn't an elevator, but there are nice downstairs rooms, so Mrs. Chisholm won't have to climb the stairs."

  "But it's the upstairs that's the most haunted, isn't it?" I asked without thinking.

  "Then that's where we's gonna stay." Granny smacked her lips and I noticed she'd slipped her false teeth out at some point. "We want's to be up close and personal with them troublemakers."