Benevolent Evil E-Book

Sylvia Nobel

• Herausgeber: WS
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: A Kendall O'Dell Mystery
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 582

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

Strange happenings from the past collide with ominous present-day events when intrepid Castle Valley reporter, Kendall O’Dell, investigates the mysterious disappearance of Holly Mason, a young woman with a troubled criminal history, drug addiction and an abusive husband. Last seen at a truck stop near Kingman, Arizona, an eyewitness points the finger at registered sex offender, Nelson Trotter, who recently inherited the Double G Ranch along with his sister, Wanda, who was accused of murdering her husband’s mistress.

While Kendall and Tugg struggle to keep the newspaper afloat, their new publisher, Thena Rodenborn, agrees to invest additional money only under the stipulation that Kendall help her acquire an abandoned church with a scandalous past. Because it’s located on the Double G Ranch, Kendall is forced to cross paths with the unsavory Trotter siblings.

After a second young woman vanishes, Kendall suspects human trafficking. When she begins to close the loop of sinister activities, it leads her to the brink of death in her efforts to expose a dark and horrific secret.

Leseprobe

Phoenix, Arizona

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © October 2020 by Sylvia Nobel

1st Printing October, 2020

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher.

For information, contact Nite Owl Books

11801 N. Tatum Blvd #143

Phoenix, AZ 85028

602-618-0724

E-mail: [email protected]

www.niteowlbooks.com

ISBN 9780999835142

Cover Design by

Christy A. Moeller, ATG Productions, LLC.

www.atgproductions.com

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019953888

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

*******

The author wishes to thank and acknowledge the following people for their invaluable assistance:

Dr. Carl Gassmann – Scottsdale Surgical Arts

Kelly Powell, Mgr. Bumble Bee Ranch

Pete Gorisch – Long Haul Trucker

Jill – Trail’s End Large Animal Removal & Disposal

Rebecca Williams, Globe, AZ

Mary & John Stemm, Globe, AZ

Bryan Thomas- Crime Prevention Officer,

Yavapai County Sheriff’s Office

Leo Scott, Prescott AZ

Tamra Brice, Bagdad, AZ

Donna Jandro, Editorial Services

Tina Williams, Editorial Services

Kelly Scott-Olson and Christy A. Moeller,

ATG Productions, Surprise, AZ

and

My husband, Jerry, for his encouragement and for driving endless miles on Arizona’s lonesome back roads to assist in my research.

To My Loving Family, Cherished Friends And Devoted Fans

-

Thank you for your continuing Encouragement And support

ADDITIONAL TITLES IN SYLVIA NOBEL’S AWARD-WINNNG KENDALL O’DELL MYSTERY SERIES

Deadly Sanctuary

The Devil’s Cradle

Dark Moon Crossing

Seeds of Vengeance

Forbidden Entry

ALSO:

Chasing Rayna

A Scent of Jasmine

Published by: Nite Owl Books - Phoenix, Arizona

VISIT OUR WEBSITE: WWW.NITEOWLBOOKS.COM

TO READ THE FIRST CHAPTER OF EACH BOOK AND FOR UPDATES ON BOOK SIGNING APPEARANCES OR NEW RELEASES BY THIS AUTHOR

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CHAPTER

1

Ca-chink! Ca-chink! 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.”

“So, ya ready to git back in the saddle again?” she inquired playfully.

I glanced over at Starlight Sky chomping on a mouthful of grass. “Not yet. I just got off this gorgeous horse about five minutes ago.”

Ginger’s tinkling laughter resounded in my ear. “I don’t mean for real. I got a little tidbit ya might want to check out. Don’t know if it will go anywhere, but then again, it might.”

That tickled my curiosity bone. “What’s that?”

“I heard tell Nelson Trotter’s back in town.”

“Who?”

“You ever hear of the notorious Trotter twins?”

“No. And they’re notorious why?”

“Well, they ain’t really twin twins,” she prattled on, not actually answering my question, “they’re more like Irish twins. I think him and his sister are the same age for five days, but anyway, I’m more ‘n happy to share all the juicy details. It’s kind of a long sad story, two actually—no wait, if you go back far enough, there’s three.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but is there something in particular among everything you’ve just told me that I might find interesting?”

“Oh, yeah. How much time ya got, sugar?”

“Right now, not much.”

“How ‘bout I tell ya about ‘em later, oh and before I forgit, Tugg told me to tell you that Thena’s gonna be here around noon today.”

Surprise jolted me. “What? I thought she wasn’t coming until tomorrow.” It had been my plan to meet with Tugg before her visit to finalize our ideas and settle on the best strategy with which to approach her.

“Nope. Today. Better shake it, sugar!”

“I guess I’d better. Bye.”

“Hang on a second! I plum near forgot. I do have some news,” she added breathlessly. “You know that new beauty clinic, Youth Oasis, the one that opened up about a month ago where the old American Legion Hall used to be over yonder on Buckskin Trail?”

I swatted a bee away from my face. It seemed as if bees and hummingbirds were always dive-bombing my hair, thinking they’d happened upon a big, fuzzy red flower. “Yeah, what about it?”

“Al just told me this mornin’ that they bought a whole page ad for Wednesday’s edition.”

“A full page!” I repeated, feeling a surge of reassurance. “That is awesome.”

“Well, snap my garters!” The sound of crinkling paper reached my ears, a short silence, then, “Listen to this,” she announced gleefully, her voice brimming with excitement. “I’m proofreadin’ the ad copy now, an’ you can git yourself a face-lift, a neck-lift and all kinds of skin treatments. They got coupons for a whole passel of creams, lotions, potions and best of all there’s a brand new procedure called Skin Deep Beauty Elixir. I guess it’s kind of like them HGH injections only it says here it’s waaaaay better. Some magical ingredients added.” She stopped to take a breath, finishing with, “Good Lord, girl, if what they’re saying is true, we can all look half our age!”

I dearly loved her effervescent personality combined with her colorful Texas idioms, which she always used to maximum effect. “Ginger, what are you talking about? You’re only thirty-three and don’t have a wrinkle on your face.”

Sounding dubious, she firmly declared, “Maybe you don’t see ‘em, but I sure do. Any hoot, it says here they’re open until six tonight. Colleen, Margery and me are fixin’ to head over there after work to check it out. You wanna come?”

“I don’t know. It sounds too good to be true.”

“Suit yourself. But if you ask me, there ain’t a one of us couldn’t use a little sprucin’ up every now and then, don’t ya think?”

“I can’t commit right now, but we can talk about it when I get there. I gotta go. See ya!” I tapped the screen, smiling. Bless Ginger King. Known affectionately as the town gossip, not only was she often a valuable resource, she was also endlessly entertaining and had become my dearest friend. In December, she had taken the bull by the horns and thrown us the most amazing engagement party. Now, she was ensconced in the role of my wedding maven, enthusiastically assuming most of the extensive list of details that needed attention while lamenting the fact that she wished she was planning her own wedding, but couldn’t seem to get her boyfriend, Doug, off the dime.

I shoved the phone in my pocket, heartened to see that Starlight Sky had settled down. Gently swishing her full, black tail, she munched contentedly on the lush winter grass. Confident she would be okay I double-checked the knot and then retraced my steps to the construction site. No sooner had I rounded the boulders than I heard the shouts of angry male voices. A small cluster of workers stood gathered around two men, one young, tall and lanky, the other muscular, older and shorter, but nonetheless, practically nose-to-nose. Gesturing wildly towards a maroon-and white-colored pickup and a newly-arrived flatbed truck piled with lumber, the young guy shouted a lengthy string of ear-blistering expletives and threatened, “You’re gonna pay! You’re gonna pay me for every cent of damage you done!”

“You backed into me, dumbass,” the older man snarled. Thick brows furrowed in anger, his sparsely-bearded chin protruding like a bulldog, he strong-armed the younger man backwards onto the ground. When he came up swinging, a full-on fistfight ensued.

Seconds later, Bob burst from the trailer and charged over to the wrestling duo. “Hey! Hey! Break it up, you two!” he commanded harshly, inserting himself between them. “Justin, what the hell’s going on here?”

“This shit-for-brains just wrecked my new truck!”

Curious, I walked closer and listened as the accusations flew back and forth. “All right, all right, that’s enough!” Bob demanded. “Take it up with the insurance companies. Now everybody get back to work!”

Justin wiped blood from his nose onto the sleeve of his shirt. “Freakin’ dirt bag pervert! Your lazy ass belongs back in jail!”

My interest level inched higher. Pervert? I was usually on top of people and most events in Castle Valley, especially crime statistics, but I’d never seen this guy before. The older man reacted to Justin’s comment with red-faced rage, lunging at him again. At that point, I whipped out my phone and tapped out a few photos and a short video. Bob intervened again, grabbing his arm. “Cool it!” He pushed Justin in the opposite direction before addressing the older man. “I don’t want to have to get the sheriff involved and I don’t think you do either.” Bob turned to the gathered crowd. “Show’s over! Get this lumber unloaded.”

Glowering, the truck driver yanked his arm from Bob’s grasp. In a harsh, gravelly tone he barked, “I never did nothing wrong! Those charges were bogus.” before stomping to his rig and vaulting into the cab. Bob yelled after him, “Try not to be two hours late next time!”

Intrigued, I wished I had time to follow up on Justin’s accusation, but at that instant, my cell phone rang. It was Tally. I retreated to a quieter spot. “Hey cowboy, you on the way, I hope?”

“Nope. Still waiting on the vet.”

Mild exasperation flared in my chest. “Really? What’s the problem this time?”

“Not sure. Could be the flu, but I’m more worried about EHV.”

“Can’t Jake take care of this?”

“Nope.”

Tally was indeed a man of few words. “Why not?”

“Because,” he stated matter-of-factly, “It’s Rain Dancer and there are a couple of other situations going on.”

Exasperation turned to agitation. I loved Tally with fierce intensity, but sometimes his preoccupation with the horses left me feeling deflated. I hated playing second, third and fourth fiddle. Of course, he always countered that my fixation with pursuing a stimulating story, sometimes at the risk of my life, surpassed by a mile any devotion he had for his Appaloosa horses. Ruefully, I had to admit that he was often right when he complained that he felt reduced to an afterthought. I’d been working really hard to correct that perception. However, I was also keenly aware that besides his gelding, Geronimo, Rain Dancer was his favorite mare. I sometimes kiddingly reminded him that he paid more attention to her than he did to me. His good-humored rejoinder was that her high-spirited, headstrong personality constantly reminded him of me, so shouldn’t I be flattered?

I fought to maintain a dispassionate tone. Cool. Stay cool. “I’m sorry. I know how important she is to you, but this is important to me. You know today is the deadline to make all the major changes we want on the house if we want it finished before the wedding and because of your schedule it’s the only time we both have open for the next two weeks.” No response during my short pause. “So, what do you want me to tell Neil?” He obviously heard the undercurrent of frustration seeping into my voice and answered soothingly, “You decide. This is your dream house.”

“It’s going to be your house too!” I shot back.

“I trust your judgement.”

I inhaled a deep, cleansing breath, hoping to tamp down my escalating temper. “All right then, you won’t mind me adding a wrap-around porch, a wine cellar and perhaps a turret?” The moment the words left my mouth, I realized how petulant I sounded. This generous, ultra-patient, intelligent and caring man had captured my heart from the first moment I’d laid eyes on him, yet he possessed the uncanny ability to light the fuse on my short temper better than anyone else. I sincerely believed that he enjoyed our electrically-charged verbal exchanges, which ranged from mild to volcanic.

“A turret?” he parroted with a tinge of humor. “Are you trying to replicate your grandmother’s house?”

Stung, I muttered, “Very funny.” However, his mocking words revived indelible memories of her stately one-hundred-fifty-year old Victorian back home in Pennsylvania that spawned my continuing fascination with old houses and buildings. To me, it was magical and truly looked like a castle. What fun it had been staying overnight nestled cozily in that high four-poster bed in what I had always called ‘the round room,’ and, oh, how I missed my tenacious, barb-witted grandmother along with that remarkable house.

Wasn’t it only yesterday that I’d delighted in exploring every nook and cranny of that spacious house with my two brothers? With a thrill of elation, my imagination would run wild as we climbed the steep staircase to explore the musty contents of the attic. We spent countless hours poring over boxes and trunks filled with old stale-smelling books, papers, photos, clothes and other captivating relics of the past. All antique treasures to us. Looking back, I felt sure those long-ago experiences fueled my desire to become either a detective or an investigative reporter.

His mellifluous voice now brimming with mischief, he responded, “Well, if you think a turret will go with our contemporary western design, go for it, m’lady.”

M’lady? I bit back a scornful response as my grandmother’s wise Irish proverb, “A kind word never broke anyone’s mouth” echoed in my mind. I also thought about Ginger’s theory that our diametrically-opposite personalities combined with our intractable natures, each fighting for dominance in the relationship, kept the fireworks sizzling. I’d definitely met my match this time. “So, you’re not coming to the meeting.”

He cleared his throat. “Um…it’s not looking good.”

“Does this have anything to do with Ruth?” Was his crazy mother badgering him again about me stealing her precious son away from her?

“No, no…it…um…doesn’t.” Was I imagining it or did he sound distracted?

“Listen, I’ve got other problems brewing here. What’s that?” His words trailed off as if he had moved the phone away from his ear, then grew louder again. “Hang on a second, Kendall.”

I could hear unintelligible female voices in the background, then his firm, “I told you I’m not getting in the middle of this. Ask her yourself.”

I frowned. Ask who? “Tally, what’s going on?”

A long sigh of frustration. “You’ll find out when you get here.”

CHAPTER

2

Following his cryptic words, only dead air met my ears. Mystified, my thoughts tumbled over each other as I slid the phone in my pocket and reached over to stroke Starlight Sky’s silky hindquarters. What in the world had that been about? I was 90% certain that one of the background voices belonged to his reclusive sister Ronda. The second person could have been his mother or perhaps Ronda’s lifelong friend, the ubiquitous Lucinda Johns, who detested the ground I walked on—and the feeling was certainly mutual. Even though Lucinda was now in a relationship with one of Tally’s ranch hands, I still suspected she had never wavered in her amorous quest of thirty years to snag Tally’s affections. Her cunning decision to buy and board her horse at the Starfire provided her with endless opportunities to flaunt herself in front of Tally. The woman was like a leech—a giant, triple-D-breasted leech strutting around in her super-tight jeans, managing to attach herself to him at every opportunity.

My throat tightened with irritation and the familiar burn of jealousy turned my stomach sour. Stop it! Maybe I was getting myself all worked up into a lather over nothing. I swung around, marched over to the trailer and spent the next hour and a half explaining the changes we had in mind to our architect—adding extra counter space in the kitchen, a fireplace to the master bedroom and making several modifications to Tally’s man cave, before I trekked back to remount Starlight Sky.

Beneath the infinite dome of sapphire blue, the warm sun at my back, I loped my spirited mare most of the way back to the ranch still slightly vexed at being stood up by Tally and unable to stop wondering what awaited me. But, I thought as the stables popped into view, my suspicions could be wrong and Ronda just needed a personal favor. If that were the case though, what prompted Tally to emphatically state that he did not want to get involved?

A glow of pride warmed me at the sight of at least two dozen stunningly beautiful appaloosas grazing peacefully behind the long white-pipe fence as I trotted into the clearing and reined in my horse at the hitching post. Sometimes I still had trouble believing that I would soon be Mrs. Bradley James Talverson and, at that time, I would be vacating my cozy rental house to begin a new life on this magnificent ranch.

At the opposite end of the barn amid the cluster of horse trailers, I spotted Tally’s pickup, Ronda’s crappy, old brown Jeep, and the vet’s dirt-covered red pickup along with a white U.S. Fish and Wildlife truck. Next to the corral gate sat another white pickup with a large covered trailer attached. What was going on? I wondered just as Jake stepped out of the tack room. He tapped the brim of his dog-eared Stetson with one finger, a friendly smile lighting his crinkled, sun-bronzed face. “Mornin’, Miz. O’Dell, I’ll take care of her for ya ifn ya like.”

I dismounted and handed him the reins. “Thanks, Jake, I’d appreciate that.” Normally, I loved currying Starlight Sky after an invigorating ride, but if I were going to make it to the office before Thena arrived, I’d best get home soon. “How’s Rain Dancer?”

“Doc thinks she’s gonna be ok,” he informed me with a lopsided grin.

“Oh, that’s good news!” I said, breathing a sigh of relief, which turned out to be short-lived when I noticed his blue eyes darken and his grin compress into a frown. “Something wrong?”

“Well, Tally’s feelin’ real good about Rain Dancer but I’m bettin’ he ain’t none too happy about them other two hitches.”

I tensed. “What’s happening?”

“Doc had to put Dolly down about an hour ago.”

“Oh no!” I exclaimed, acute sadness invading my heart, “Not Dolly.”

“Yep,” he answered, lifting his hat to scratch his balding scalp. “Her arthritis had got so bad she couldn’t get up this mornin’. Tally and Ronda decided, since the vet was here anyway, they’d best git it over with,” he concluded with a despondent sigh before securing his hat once again.

Tears burned my eyes and heavy guilt coiled in my gut, remembering how I’d given Tally the business about missing the meeting with Neil. This tragic situation definitely took priority. It slowly sank in that I’d never see the ranch’s beloved donkey again, never hear her clownish bray, delight in her quirky personality or admire her ability to instantly bond with people and horses alike. As much as I’d miss the Starfire’s resident mascot, it wouldn’t be nearly as hard on me as on Tally and Ronda since she’d been around since they were children. “What’s the second problem?”

“Ray Sutter’s settin’ in Tally’s office right now chewin’ his backside ‘cause Vernon shot one o’ them so-called, endangered Mexican gray wolves last night. That pack’s been stalkin’ the cattle for a couple of weeks now and finally killed a mama cow and her calf yesterday. Right over there on the far side of the south corral,” he commented, pointing a gnarled forefinger. “Messed ‘em up pretty bad.”

I grimaced and glanced beyond the bucolic scene of grazing horses, but couldn’t see anything from my vantage point. “That’s awful.” Tally was not a man to suffer fools gladly, especially fools from the government. He was particularly incensed about the Agency pushing the bizarre idea that somehow the wolves and cattle were now going to learn to peacefully coexist. I had to agree. How do you alter nature when wolves are natural predators to livestock? The Agency’s suggestion to shoot rubber bullets at them was apparently not working. “I’m sure he’s royally pissed about that.”

“Yeah,” Jake nodded, sagely. “Pretty pissed.”

Both Jake and I turned at the sound of a car door slamming and saw Ronda with her back to us, gesturing and talking to someone sitting in the white pickup. The rising wind made it impossible for me to hear what she was saying. “Who’s that with Ronda?” I asked Jake.

He squinted into the distance. “Somebody from The Last Roundup.”

“What’s that?”

He shot me a questioning look. “You know. Them’s the people who come pick up and dispose of dead animal carcasses.”

“Oh. Of course. For Dolly.”

“Yeah, her and the cows.”

“Really? All this time I thought you just left the cattle out in the desert to decompose.”

“We normally do that, but seein’ how we needed ‘em to pick up Dolly, Ronda decided since we got a passel of people coming this week, she didn’t want folks to see the cows’ remains. On top of that, they’re gonna start to stink here pretty soon and the vultures will be swarmin’ all around. Might scare the tenderfoots.” A wink accompanied his wry smile.

“No doubt,” I muttered. Not very far removed from tenderfoot status myself, I had no doubt that would be a stomach-turning sight for most people. Tally and I had come across more than one bloated, fly-covered animal carcass on our rides across the Starfire property and adjoining BLM grazing lands. Certainly not a pleasant image, but something ranchers accept.

A twinge of melancholy flowed through me as I watched the pickup make a wide turn and head out of the driveway pulling the covered trailer that I now knew held Dolly and whatever remained of the mother cow and her calf. Disposing of dead animals did not sound like the kind of job I would ever care to have. “Thanks again, Jake,” I said, touching his arm briefly. “Catch you later.” I walked a few steps, but turned back adding, “Tell Tally I’m going into work and I’ll contact him later.”

“Sure thing.” He touched the brim of his Stetson again and led Starlight Sky into the stable. I pulled off my hat, fluffed out my unruly curls and had almost made it to the Jeep when I heard a shout.

“Kendall, wait up a minute!”

I swung around to see Ronda running towards me dressed in her usual worn jeans and scuffed boots. “I need to ask you something.” Breathing hard, she fixed me with those unreadable brown eyes and swiped a thatch of auburn hair from her forehead. Even after knowing Tally’s sister for ten months now, I felt I’d never really know her. She was less than forthcoming most of the time, preferred the company of animals to people, and I feared she had inherited some of her mother’s bipolar tendencies, although Tally assured me she was not yet to the point where she needed medications. While part of me was marginally curious about whatever it was that she wanted to ask, a glance at my phone confirmed that I had no time for chitchat.

“Hi Ronda, what’s on your mind?”

Appearing ill at ease, she chewed her lower lip a few seconds. “I need a favor.”

“Name it.”

She shifted her weight, avoiding my gaze. “Um…it’s not really a favor for me exactly.”

It was an effort not to roll my eyes. “Your mother?”

The slight hesitation confirmed my fears. “No.”

Oh, crap. “Lucinda?”

She nodded somberly.

“Is she here?”

“Yep.”

“Why doesn’t she ask me herself?”

Ronda looked down and drew a circle in the dirt with the tip of her boot. “Lucy said she’s afraid.”

I looked at her askance. “Afraid of what?”

“You. Lucy knows she’s not your favorite person, but maybe just this once you could call a truce or something and listen to what she has to say.”

“She’s not exactly crazy about me either,” I remarked coolly. For the life of me, I could not understand why Ronda liked her, but then because of her reclusive nature, Ronda did not appear to have many friends. I knew the two women had been inseparable since preschool. Maybe she was aware of some positive personality trait I missed. Brash, duplicitous, insensitive, disrespectful, mouthy—to me, Lucinda had not one redeeming quality. Well, perhaps one. The Iron Skillet restaurant, operated by Lucinda and her Aunt Polly, whom I did like, served the absolute yummiest food in town.

“I’m kind of behind the eight ball for time today. Can’t this wait?”

“So, you can’t spare her even ten minutes!” Usually so low-key that I hardly noticed her presence most of the time, her indignant declaration startled me. “Look, I wouldn’t normally ask you to get involved, but…this is different. Maybe life or death.”

Seriously? Life or death? I hesitated, thinking her request seemed a bit overblown but at the same instant, her statement had definitely captured my attention. “Ten minutes.”

Her eyes softening with gratitude, she stepped forward and enveloped me in an awkward embrace. Disconcerted, I patted her shoulders, her unexpected response invoking a sense of cautious uncertainty. What was I getting myself into this time? Hadn’t it been just a few months ago that I had been trapped into this very position with Ruth? Her fervent insistence that I follow up on the murder of an old family friend had produced a bombshell story but also disgorged a clattering multitude of unwelcome skeletons from the Talverson closet that they were still coping with to this day. How was I ever going to blend into this dysfunctional family? “Thank you, Kendall.” She drew back and thumbed over her shoulder. “She’s waiting inside.”

I hesitated. “I’m really sorry about Dolly.”

Instant tears glistened in her eyes and she blinked rapidly. “Thanks. She’s been a part of our family for forty years. I’m going to miss her.”

“Me too.” I started towards the barn, dragging my feet. If I could pick anyone on earth, Lucinda would be the last person I would choose to grant a favor. Wary, but also curious, I strode inside wondering what she could possibly want from me while mentally calculating how long it would take me to shower, dress, check on my cats and get to the office before Thena arrived.

The pleasantly pungent aroma of horse manure and hay greeted me as I paused to allow my eyes to adjust to the low light. Within seconds, I spotted my nemesis loitering near the tack room, her back to me. “Ronda said you wanted to talk to me.”

She swung around abruptly, her coffee-colored eyes wide with surprise. “Yeah.” She continued to stare at me as if I were a ghost. Clearly, she had not expected me to come. “Did…a…Ronda tell you anything?”

I eyed her with suspicion. “Only that you needed to talk to me about something and she indicated it might be of a serious nature.”

“It is.” She fidgeted nervously with a hoof pick before setting it on the nearby shelf. Closing her eyes momentarily she inhaled deeply as if steeling herself. “Listen, um…I…I know that we…uh…that I’ve not exactly been—”

“Lucinda, get to the point. I only have a few minutes.”

She swallowed hard. “Okay. My sister Holly is missing.”

I leaned my head to one side, narrowing my gaze. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“She’s my half sister actually. I guess because she’s twelve years younger than me, we were never all that close and—she’s had a lot of pretty bad problems in her life.”

“How long has she been missing?”

“Two and a half months.”

I looked at her askance. “That’s a long time. Why are you telling me about this now?”

She cast me a melancholy glance. “She’s run off a lot of times before. Sometimes she’d be gone for weeks…but this time feels different.”

“In what way?”

“I don’t know. Usually, somebody in the family would hear from her every so often, a call, a text, something. She always needed money, she’d swear she was coming home in a few days.” A tiny shoulder hitch. “Sometimes she did, sometimes she didn’t.”

“When did you hear from her last?”

“The day before Thanksgiving.”

I pondered that briefly. “What about her social media pages? Any posts since then?” I knew that a missing person’s digital footprint was critical for law enforcement.

Her forlorn sigh filled the space between us. “Nothing.”

I watched her absently twist a ring on one finger. “I’m assuming you’ve posted her photo and profile online already?”

“Oh, yeah, on a bunch of those missing persons websites, including the Missing Arizonans Facebook page. My mom and me even went to the Missing in Arizona Day event. We had posters made up and handed out a bunch of them, but so far there’s been nothing, not one word even though we’re offering a $1000 reward.” Appearing more downcast than I’d ever seen her, her voice quaked as if she were holding back tears. “It’s like she…I don’t know, dropped off the face of the earth. My mom and Aunt Polly, we’re all scared shitless something god-awful has happened to her and…and....well look, I admit I’ve been a total bitch sometimes and you don’t owe me the time of day, but I was wondering, we were wondering if….” Her expression stricken, she burst out, “If you could try to find her for us?”

It took supreme willpower not to gawk at her. Was this for real? After all the months of putting up with her insolent, insufferable behavior towards me, my initial reaction was hell, no! Why should I lift a finger for this manipulative woman?

I groaned inwardly. I really, really did not want to be in the position of having to interact with her on a regular basis for any reason, but was I allowing the rivalry between us to cloud my judgment? “We can run a piece on her, but you should have contacted someone at the paper sooner. This information could have been disseminated a long time ago.”

Her scarlet lips turned down as her shoulders drooped. “She’s been in a lot of trouble since high school. I don’t know, maybe it was my mom’s divorce. Whatever, she started hanging out with some real low-lifes and it just got worse and worse. It’s been a…huge embarrassment to the family and…I guess we didn’t want everybody in the world to know about it.”

I fixed her with a perceptive look. “Drugs?”

“And other… things.”

“Such as?”

“You name it. She’s been busted for DUIs, theft, dealing and…doing, well, whatever she needed to do to get her drugs, if you get my drift,” she stated, grimacing.

“Yeah, I got it.”

A tiny ember of sympathy stirred inside me. Hadn’t my whole family and I just been through hell trying to deal with my brother’s drug problem a few short months ago? There were thousands of tragic stories like Holly’s all over the country every single day, but was there anything newsworthy about yet another young person who had stupidly thrown her life away and was living on the street or in a crack house right now? Who wanted to read about more of that?

As Ginger would often say, there were “slim pickin’s” for select assignments in a town as small as Castle Valley and the possibility there could be an even darker side to this story loomed large—human trafficking. Unfortunately, I’d had personal experience with that appalling subject. Last November, I’d broken a horrific human-trafficking story at the border, and it seemed that the nationwide epidemic of kidnappings had become ever more pervasive, especially in Arizona. But, I needed a hook, something to differentiate this incident from just another missing girl case. I’d promised Ronda I’d hear her out; still, I hesitated, reluctant to involve myself with Lucinda under any circumstances.

Responding to my silence, her dark eyes grew misty as her throaty voice took on a plaintive tone. “We’re all getting pretty frantic. She’s never been gone this long before.”

“Can you remember the longest stretch of time that you’ve had no contact from her in the past?”

Her gaze pensive, she hesitated before answering. “Probably two months?”

“So, we’re only talking about two additional weeks of radio silence at this point, correct?”

I think she sensed my skepticism, because she quickly tacked on, “Did I mention she’s got a husband and two darling little girls living in Bagdad that need their mommy?”

I studied her anxious expression. No doubt, she was feeling as uncomfortable as I was. At that instant, I realized that my disdain for her boiled down to raw jealousy based on her hard-to-hide lust for Tally. Other than that, what reason did I have to dislike her? Moreover, it occurred to me in those fleeting seconds that I didn’t really know much about her personal life because I had not wanted to waste the time and energy trying to find out. “Where’s Bagdad?” I’d heard of the small copper-mining town, but couldn’t remember its exact proximity to Castle Valley.

“Um... about an hour north of here.”

“I’m assuming you’ve been in contact with Marshall.” I surmised, referring to our local sheriff, Marshall Turnbull.

“Yeah. He says Duane and him have followed up on every lead and all of them have gone cold. If you ask me, I’d say they’ve given up looking, so…that’s why I’m…I mean we, my whole family, is asking for your help,” she persisted with a beseeching gaze. “I figured you’d understand considering you just went through those problems with your own brother.”

Her highly-personal reference to my brother Sean’s drug issues irked me, but then he had stupidly made himself a focal point of my last mind-boggling assignment so it was hardly a secret. I stood in stony silence, weighing my options. While I felt a measure of compassion about her missing sister, I could not get past my stubborn dislike of her. I gave her a dismissive shrug. “I’m sorry,” I stated crisply, “it’s going to be all asses and elbows at work with Tugg gone the rest of this week, but I can certainly assign this to Walter…”

Thunderclouds formed in her eyes. “No! I don’t want Walter. I mean, don’t get me wrong. He’s real nice and all, but Tally said finding missing people is your specialty.” She paused, shrewdly assessing my reaction. When I remained stoic, she quickly added, “He promised me you’d do it.”

What? He promised her. So much for him not getting involved. Cheeks on fire, I struggled to suppress the sarcasm creeping into my voice. “Oh, he did, did he?”

“Yeah. He did. He thinks you’re the best reporter on the planet.” A hopeful gleam shimmered in her dark eyes as she squeezed out what I suspected was a totally fake smile in her lame attempt at flattery.

I could have walked at that moment, but something made me stay. It was true that the bulk of the five stories I’d uncovered this past year revolved around people gone missing. While four of them appeared to have no connection to the human-trafficking problem, nevertheless countless poor souls, including men and children, seemed to just vanish into thin air in Arizona—an abundance of them. Was it because the vast stretches of open desert provided an inviting place to hide or bury bodies, along with the plethora of abandoned vertical mines that scarred the sometimes-barren landscape? I peeked at my phone. “I’ll look into it.” I said tersely, the reporter-half of me intrigued, the resentful-female-half angry at Tally for putting me into this untenable situation.

Gratitude flashing in her moist eyes, she pressed her palms together in a prayer-like gesture. “I…we all can’t thank you enough.”

“I’ll check with Marshall and we can talk again when I have more time.” I swiveled around, then stopped and turned back, adding as I handed her my business card, “Any other information that might help locate her would be useful and I’ll need a recent photo.”

“I can show you one now!” She pulled her phone from her back pocket, scrolled and pointed the screen towards me. I tried not to gasp. While Lucinda was not unattractive, this girl had one of the most strikingly beautiful faces I’d ever seen—long dark hair, turned-up nose, flawless skin, full sensuous lips and large almond-shaped brown eyes fringed with thick lashes. She could have easily passed for a top model or movie star. What a tragic waste of a life. Acute dread chilled me imagining the worst of what might have happened to her.

“Send me that photo and I’ll get back with you.” I turned to leave when she reached out and touched my arm. “Thank you.” Gone was the hard glint of malice usually emanating from her eyes. Instead, the angst reflected in her gaze appeared genuine. I was having trouble processing her sudden transformation from queen of snark to this unrecognizable woman in need of my help.

“I can’t guarantee anything,” I answered, keeping my tone noncommittal.

“I know. I know. I promised my family I’d at least try.”

“And you’re positive about her not posting anywhere on social media?”

She shook her head sadly. “Nothing. Not even once since November.” She swiped a tear from her cheek. “It’s just plain shitty not knowing what happened to her, especially since we were all super excited about her coming home.”

“What do you mean?”

She hastily scrolled through her phone again. “Wait!” she announced breathlessly. “I almost forgot to tell you the most important thing.” More frantic scrolling, then, “She called Lynnis the night before Thanksgiving from a truck stop just this side of Kingman.”

“Who’s Lynnis?”

She looked up at me. “Her husband.”

“Which truck stop?”

She glanced again at her phone. “Roadrunner.”

“Did he give any details of the conversation?”

“He told us that she swore she was done with drugs forever and promised to get sober and…and…she begged him to come and get her.”

I raised a quizzical brow. “And did he?”

Lips crushed in a straight line, she shook her head. “He told her to go pound sand, so she told him to go screw himself and that she’d hitch a ride to Bagdad.” Her expression morose, she said faintly, “Holly was less than two hours away but we haven’t heard from her since.”

While the scenario sounded worrisome, I remained dubious. Was Lucinda plotting to send me on the proverbial wild goose chase so she could resume her pursuit of Tally with me safely out of the picture? Playing devil’s advocate, I countered, “You said this has happened before quite a few times.”

Chewing her lower lip, she shifted her weight, appearing uncomfortable. “Yeah, it has.”

“So, is it possible she changed her mind and took off again?”

Her fixed gaze reflected bemused annoyance. “I suppose it’s possible. Anything is possible, right? But…Deputy Potts left me a weird message two days ago that makes no sense to any of us.”

That centered my attention. “What?”

“He said they have surveillance footage proving Holly was at the Family Dollar store in Aguila about 8:30 pm the same night she called Lynnis.”

“And that’s weird why?”

“Because Aguila is the opposite direction from Bagdad.”

CHAPTER

3

I rolled—or rather, skidded into the gravel parking lot at the Castle Valley Sun at exactly 11:55 am, exhaling a short sigh of relief when I did not see Thena’s vanilla-colored Mercedes. All right! I congratulated myself for arriving ahead of her. After leaving Lucinda, I’d mulled over every detail she had shared. I had taken a few minutes to check the Arizona map online and it did seem more than a little peculiar that the last sighting of her sister was two hours from Kingman in the opposite direction from her home. I hurriedly showered and dressed, wolfed down a handful of trail mix and then stopped to schmooze for a few minutes with my orange cat, Marmalade, and her best bud, my latest rescue, three-legged, coal-black cat, Fiona, before bolting out the door and practically hydroplaning my Jeep along Lost Canyon Road, kicking up an impressive rooster tail of dust.

Tugg and I were both keenly aware of the importance of presenting a united front. Somehow we had to convince Thena that we would work like dogs to make sure we could keep the paper up and running and profitable. Nevertheless, I feared she might not be as eager to agree to another injection of new capital considering the steep drop in advertising revenue the past few months. Maybe Ginger was right. Perhaps I’d better jump on this missing person story, even though it made my skin crawl to think I’d have to interact with Lucinda.

I slid from my Jeep, skirted by the overgrown clumps of fountain grass waving in the brisk wind, and headed for the front door thinking that Tally would be getting a piece of my mind when I saw him later this evening. Why in the world would he promise Lucinda that I’d be willing to consider her appeal without even discussing it with me first? Yes, my logical mind accepted the fact that Lucinda was Ronda’s best friend and that Tally had known her since they were both children. If he had any romantic interest in her, wouldn’t he have acted on it by now? His response to my poorly-concealed jealousy towards her was one of mischievous amusement, which irritated the shit out of me, while on the other hand he appeared to tolerate Lucinda’s brazen behavior towards him with equal parts of good humor, aplomb and a hint of empathy, which also irritated the shit out of me.

I shook off the disconcerting thoughts and stepped inside the lobby of the Sun. The door sensor buzzed, announcing my entrance. While I had sorely needed the three-week hiatus, it felt good to be back at work—or back in the saddle, as Ginger had so aptly described it.

“Straight-up noon and here she is!” Ginger crowed, jumping up from her desk to practically squeeze the breath out of me with her enthusiastic hug. “We’ve missed ya, girlfriend!”

A blaze of affection radiated through me as I returned her embrace. “Yeah, I’ve missed all of you guys too.”

“How’s your arm doin’?” She pulled back, her eyes filled with sudden concern.

“I think it’s pretty much all healed.”

Her sunny smile lit up the room. “Sugar, that’s the best news ever!”

The phone rang and she broke away to answer it on the fourth ring. “Castle Valley Sun.” She held up a finger indicating I should wait. “Sure, Elmer, come on in. We’re here until five, but not a minute after!” She hung up and fastened inquiring ginger-colored eyes on me. “Hey, I know Tugg’s waitin’, but when ya git a minute, take a gander at the links I forwarded you about them Trotter twins we was talkin’ about earlier. Especially Nelson. Whooeee! Talk about your bad apples. I’d plum forgotten half the details.”

“Thanks. I’ll check ‘em out later.” I gave her a thumbs-up and breezed down the narrow hallway, stopping to stick my head in the doorway to my old office that Tally, Jim Sykes and I had once shared. A wave of nostalgia washed over me, realizing those days were now gone forever. Neither Jim nor Walter Zipp was at his desk, so assuming they were both out on assignments, I continued around the corner just as Tugg looked up from his computer screen and beamed me a welcoming smile. “Hey there, Kendall!” He rose, enveloped me in a fatherly hug, and then held me at arm’s length, his expression turning serious. “How’s that arm? You all back to normal?”

Smiling, I flexed my left arm in several directions. “Good as new. I’m ready to rock n’ roll. What about you? You look a little tired.” Because of his on-going health issues, Mary, his excessively-protective wife, had pitched a fit when he’d announced his wish to ditch retirement and return to the high-stress job. She had reluctantly agreed only if I promised to take on co-editing responsibilities. Now I both loved and hated my job. I could definitely do without the hassle of running a small, financially-strapped newspaper, preferring the challenge, stimulation and yes, sometimes risk, of being out on assignment, but fully realized that if I had not consented to her terms, the paper would have folded and none of us would have a job. That commitment weighed heavily on my shoulders.

He waved away my concern. “I’m doin’ okay for an old codger. Hey, I’m glad you got here before Thena.” He sank into his squeaky chair once more. “It’s gonna be tough convincing her to pony up this time around. I’m thinking that you and I might have to sweeten the deal by taking a pay cut. Maybe everybody else too and cut the print edition down to once a week.”

“Well, I guess if that’s what it takes, but let’s try to stay positive. We’ve got other options to try.” We reviewed all the major talking points we intended to introduce to her—live videos on the website and social media pages featuring local events such as parades, city council meetings, live weather reports and teasers for future editions. We also discussed a plan for securing advertisers for sporting events, sponsored content, creating a phone app and perhaps starting a new column featuring interesting tales from Arizona’s past and focusing on Castle Valley’s rich history.

“Let’s hope she goes for it,” Tugg mused thoughtfully, absently smoothing the remaining tufts of gray hair above his ears, “or I’m afraid we’re toast.”

“It’s going to work,” I assured him, keeping my tone optimistic as I shuffled the papers into a folder. “These are all innovative ideas and if we can implement them soon they are bound to increase revenue, don’t you think?”

Tugg hitched his shoulders, his expression conveying uncertainly. His phone jangled and he squeezed out a hopeful smile before answering. I was halfway through opening the mail piled on my desk when I heard Ginger’s dramatic whisper on the intercom. “Hey, sugar pie, she’s rollin’ into the parking lot right now.”

Oh boy. Show time. I set the mail aside, stood and nodded at Tugg who was still engaged in conversation. Thumbing towards the lobby, I mouthed silently, “I’ll go get her.” He widened his eyes in response and I hurried along the hallway, still mentally rehearsing what I planned to say.

I squared my shoulders and entered the lobby just as Ginger declared in her most exaggerated Texas drawl, “Kendall, darlin’, would you take a gander at this amazin’ lady! Does Miz Rodenborn not look ten years younger than the last time we seen her?”

I cringed inwardly, thinking that a woman as perceptive as Thena would quickly see right through such a superficial show of adoration and fired a cut it out glare at Ginger who wore a look of genuine astonishment.

“Thank you, dear heart. I feel ten years younger, maybe fifteen.” She turned towards me and a little shock sizzled through me. I’m pretty sure my mouth was hanging open as I stared in amazement at the refined seventy-eight-year-old woman I had not seen for over two months. I’d heard she had recently been to Los Angeles several times during that time period, visiting her great-niece who was an aspiring actress. I scrutinized her face carefully, and although I had never thought she looked her age, she actually did appear younger than the last time I’d seen her. Substantially younger. A face-lift perhaps? Botox or other filler injections? Perhaps it was the elegantly cut mauve designer suit or the fact that she was wearing her snow-white hair in a shorter, upswept spiky style. Or could it be that her blue eyes seemed clearer, brighter, that her skin seemed to radiate with a youthful glow?

“We all got to know your secret,” Ginger remarked dreamily, brushing a strawberry-blonde curl away while she examined her freckled face in the mirror that hung on the wall next to her desk. “Lordy, look at these wrinkles! I need a gallon of whatever you’re usin’!”

“Don’t be silly,” Thena stated with a little shrug of dismissal, “you look just fine to me, but there’s certainly no reason we gals shouldn’t try to always look our best. None of us is getting any younger.”

“That’s for dang sure,” Ginger remarked mournfully, scrunching her face in different directions as she continued to critically study her reflection.

Still blown away by her rejuvenated appearance, I nudged myself back to the pressing matter at hand. “Hello, Thena,” I interjected with a warm smile advancing to greet her, “you do look wonderful.”

“And you too, Kendall. I’m glad to see your arm is all healed up.” We clasped hands, touched cheeks and then I motioned towards the hallway. “We’re ready for you in my office.”