The Nora Abbott Mystery series Box Set Read online

  Charlie’s eyes lost their floating quality and sharpened. “You noticed he’s hanging around?”

  “Here’s the thing, you and Abigail act like he’s this great Wyoming guy. But he works for Barrett. He’s against snowmaking but for uranium mining. Sort of, I guess. And I swear I heard him and Barrett planning to bribe Congressmen.”

  “Bribery, huh?”

  “He’s full of contradictions. I don’t think we can trust him.”

  For a moment Charlie looked like a general planning strategy. Then he glanced at Nora and a lopsided grin crept onto his face. “You coming to breakfast, darlin’?”

  Nora watched his lurching gate as he hurried across the grass to the lodge. Even Charlie, her one constant, seemed off his norm.

  The rumble of an engine brought Nora back to the mountain. Barrett’s black Mercedes slid on the cinders. The slamming door rebounded around the empty forest. With powerful strides, Barrett hurried up the trail and across the slope.

  Maybe he’d been her idol for years when she thought he was the compassionate entrepreneur. Now she knew him for a controlling jerk.

  “What the hell happened here?” Barrett bellowed.

  “When the spaceship landed it crushed the lift.” Ask a stupid question….

  He glared at her. “Is that supposed to be funny?”

  Irritation blasted into her brain. “Someone blew up my lift to stop snowmaking. My mother and I could be the next target. That’s not a real knee-slapper.”

  An angry storm clouded Barrett’s face as he focused on the smoking debris. “This is the work of cowards. You aren’t in any physical danger.”

  “Thanks for the words of comfort.”

  Footsteps crunched in the cinders behind Nora. “Good morning, Barrett. Isn’t this awful?” Abigail said.

  Like an eraser on a schoolroom chalk board, Barrett wiped anger from his face and replaced it with sorrow. “Despicable. I’m just glad you and Nora weren’t injured.”

  Abigail pshted as if it were a silly idea. “Oh we aren’t in any danger. Cowards did this and they wouldn’t dare mess with me and Nora physically.”

  Déjà vu or simply hell?

  Charlie sauntered up behind Abigail and she looked surprised, as if he hadn’t been at her side all morning. She shrugged out of his jacket and shoved it at him.

  “How was breakfast?” Nora asked Charlie.

  His adoring gaze never drifted from Abigail. “I made sure to turn the burner off after she rushed out.”

  “You need to abandon ship, Charlie. Throwing men overboard is what she does best.”

  Charlie’s mischievous grin lit his faded eyes. “I’m tied to the mast, sweetie. Don’t worry about me.”

  An Escalade, as ostentatious as Barrett’s Mercedes, cruised into the parking lot, followed by a ratty pickup and finally a compact car.

  Welcome to the circus.

  All the doors of the Escalade swung open and people spilled out. Big Elk climbed out of the passenger side and the whole troupe headed up the slope.

  Dorothy Black, the incredibly young reporter from the Daily Tribune popped from the little car and quickly passed a few Guilty White People, catching up to Big Elk, her notebook and pen leading the way.

  Satisfaction and self-importance swarmed around Big Elk like flies on a corpse.

  “Do you think he did it?” Abigail asked.

  “Of course he did it,” Nora said. Or maybe it was Alex. Or whoever sent the death threats. Or maybe the little kachina salesman. Or whoever carried the fireball. Or maybe Cole.

  Abigail’s eyes flashed with that mother bear intensity. She glared at Big Elk as he approached but she spoke to Nora. “Pull your shoulders back, lift your chin and put a confident smile on your face. Why didn’t you listen to me when I suggested you clean up for the day?”

  Charlie stepped next to Abigail and faced Big Elk and his entourage.

  Over the shoulders of the invading hordes, Nora caught sight of a police cruiser easing into the parking lot. They must be tired of traipsing out here for fires, riots, murders. It would be fine with Nora if police-worthy events stopped happening to her.

  Big Elk gazed at Nora. “Are you okay?”

  You’d think Mr. Soundbite would come up with something more original. Maybe, “Ha-ha” or “Take that.”

  Abigail raised a regal chin. “Turn right around and march down this mountain. You are not welcome here.”

  He ignored Abigail and addressed Nora. “I didn’t mean for this to happen but I warned you.”

  Barrett’s low voice carried threat. “If you don’t want a restraining order, I suggest you leave.”

  “And I suggest you keep on my good side, Mr. McCreary.”

  Barrett narrowed his eyes in a look that foretold epic destruction, torture and mayhem.

  Enough of this. Nora didn’t need others to protect her. She eased in front of Charlie and Abigail and opened her mouth.

  Dorothy Black, who had interviewed Nora on several occasions, slid from behind Big Elk and into Nora’s personal space. Perhaps sensing she held center stage, Dorothy spoke with volume and drama. “What is your response to this morning’s Tribune article?”

  As if Nora had time to peruse today’s paper. It didn’t matter what Dorothy asked, Nora had a few things to say she’d kept bottled up for too long. “In Arizona and New Mexico at least 40 to 50 mountains are sacred to tribes. There are over 40,000 shrines, gathering areas, pilgrimage routes and prehistoric sites in the Southwest, all of which someone claims are sacred. We want to spray water on one fourth of one percent of this mountain.”

  Dorothy brushed that aside. “In light of this destruction, can you respond to today’s article in which Big Elk calls for the Hopi and other pueblo tribes to rise up in rebellion against you?”

  “He called for what? Against me?”

  Big Elk raised his voice. “I was speaking metaphorically.”

  Dorothy scribbled away, eyes jumping from her small notebook to Nora’s face. “You’re familiar with the Pueblo Indian Rebellion of the 1600’s? He compared snowmaking to the missionaries quelling the culture and enslaving the Puebloans.”

  Charlie put his arm around Nora’s shoulder and turned her away. “The press, man. Use them, don’t let them use you.”

  The reporter took another step toward her, speaking to her back. “The Hopi, known for being a peaceful tribe, actually rebelled against the Spanish priests and flung them off the mesas to their deaths. Big Elk said the Hopi should do something similar to stop snowmaking.”

  Big Elk sounded desperate. “I did not call for violence against Kachina Ski. I merely said we need to recapture that spirit.”

  “Bullshit!” Nora spun around and let her anger shout back at Big Elk.

  Abigail spoke quickly, maybe to save Nora from poor press. “If you think your terrorist shenanigans will stop us, Mr. Big Elk, you have greatly underestimated our fortitude. We won’t run away like frightened field mice.”

  Good one, Abigail. Your ability to throw an excellent cocktail party will protect us from murderers.

  Gary and another uniformed officer finally arrived and pushed past the reporter. Gary’s freckles nearly disappeared in his flushed cheeks. “All right, everyone calm down.”

  Charlie whispered to Nora, “You can’t trust the heat.”

  Nora’s stomach tightened and sweat slimed her underarms. The last two times Gary showed up he brought news of Scott’s death and accused her of murder. Maybe now he’d haul her off to jail for blowing up her own lift.

  Behind Big Elk the small knot of followers started to chant. “Make love, not snow, make love, not snow.”

  Gary spoke to Big Elk, his voice barely discernible above the activists. “What are you doing here?”

  With a glance at Dorothy, who moved closer and stood ready to scribble a quote, he said, “We came to assure Ms. Abbott that violence is not what we stand for. We want to demonstrate our solidarity to peaceful means, even as we vehementl
y disagree with Ms. Abbott’s determination to disrupt Mother Earth’s balance by making snow and send us on the path to certain destruction.”

  Blah, blah, blah in capitals and quotation marks.

  Gary’s face remained expressionless, despite the red slashes high on his cheeks. “I see.” He unhooked handcuffs from his belt. “You’re under arrest for the destruction of property.”

  Whoa! He wasn’t going to haul Nora away? Maybe her luck was turning. Well, aside from the blown up lift, the death threats, and financial failure.

  Big Elk held his hand up. “I had nothing to do with this, even if I’m not sorry to see it go.”

  Gary interrupted. “You’ve got your press coverage. Let’s go.”

  “You have no proof.” Spittle flew from Big Elk’s lips as he shouted.

  Gary shrugged. “Anonymous tip from a reliable source. I consider you a flight risk so I’m not taking chances.”

  “What about my rights?”

  “You’ll get the spiel on the way to the car,” Gary said.

  “You’re behind this.” Big Elk’s finger pointed at Nora. Death. Violent, painful, endless. That’s what Big Elks eyes told her plainly. Eyes able to command from prison. She’d never seen so much hate. Her knees wobbled.

  “You won’t get away with this.” Though said under his breath it floated with Black Death through her veins.

  Gary pulled Big Elk’s hands behind him and clamped on the handcuffs.

  The other officer took Big Elk by the arm and directed him across the slope. “You have the right to remain silent…”

  “False accusations,” Big Elk launched into one of his famous rants. He twisted his head to shout at Nora. “Your prejudice against Native Americans is well documented and now you’re tainting Flagstaff’s finest with your lies. My people will carry on this battle in my name for our Great Mother.”

  Gary looked as if a headache of Biblical proportions banged behind his eyes. “Knock off the histrionics.”

  Evidently deciding Big Elk was the more dramatic story, Dorothy scurried to his side.

  Abigail stepped close to Barrett and put a delicate hand on his arm, looking into his face. “Can’t you do something about him?”

  Though his features seemed calm, there was something about Barrett’s face that brought to mind scorched fields of ash and death. “He won’t bother Kachina Ski again.”

  Somehow, that didn’t make Nora feel safer.

  Gary exhaled as if exhausted. “Nora. I need to talk to you.”

  Scott was dead and she’d been accused of his murder. Not to mention Gary’s suspicions about insurance fraud. What other disaster could Gary bring?

  “Do you know a Maureen Poole?”

  The name stabbed a gusher in her heart and she couldn’t begin to pull apart all the emotions connected. Betrayal, sadness, tragedy. Anger or compassion. She nodded.

  “She was recently killed in a one car roll-over accident. We discovered a connection between your late husband and Ms. Poole.”

  Nora tried to swallow but her mouth was too dry. She barely squeaked out, “They were having an affair.”

  Gary studied her face. “We suspect her death wasn’t an accident.”

  Knife to the lungs, air gone. Murder. Gary was saying someone killed Maureen. Unthinkable. Things like this didn’t happen in real life. At least, not in her real life. Nora needed to get Abigail and her out of here. Someplace safe. People were being killed and Abigail or Nora would be next.

  “As a person of interest in the murder of your husband, this obviously makes you,” he hesitated. “More interesting.”

  Like a fish jerked toward the pole by the painful hook in its mouth, Nora reeled toward disaster.

  21

  Barrett’s boots thudded on the yellowed industrial linoleum. He’d orchestrated Big Elk’s arrest to illustrate that he was CEO of more than McCreary Energy. Noble Sergeant Gary had no idea who gave his chief the reliable tip. Now Barrett and Big Elk would have their Come to Jesus meeting and Big Elk would deliver the Hopi Tribal Council.

  Three small barred cells left room for a walkway in the cinderblock structure. Dull yellow paint covered the walls.

  Big Elk had the only cot, in the cell farthest from the door. A bleary-eyed drunk hung his head in the next cell. Other than that, they had the place to themselves.

  Barrett’s steady footsteps down the linoleum corridor didn’t disturb the prone figure of Big Elk. He lay on his back, arms under his head, staring at the ceiling.

  Barrett stopped outside the cell. “Enjoying your stay?”

  Only his lips moved. “Not five-star quality, but what can you expect for the sticks?”

  “As a native person of the land, one funded with the hard-earned donations of a faithful following, isn’t five stars out of your league?”

  Big Elk chuckled and sat up. “Mr. Barrett McCreary. How good of you to call. And how generous to arrange my release.”

  Despite the difficult things he’d been forced to do in his life, Barrett didn’t like violence. However, he might enjoy ripping this guy’s throat out. “At least you understand the chain of command here.”

  The smirk on Big Elk’s face stretched Barrett’s control. “So you got the local yokels to toss me behind bars. Good for you. Now get me out.”

  “Not until you guarantee prompt delivery of what I paid for.”

  Big Elk rose from his cot. He stretched his arms overhead, took a deep breath, exhaled and bent over in downward dog. When he stood, he ambled to the bars and faced Barrett. “I’ll get the Hopi counsel’s endorsement for uranium mining, but not because you think you have power over me.”

  “I do have the power. This incarceration is a warning. If I decide to let you out, understand that any delay in the Hopi agreement will result in something much more costly than repairs to the ski lift, which you’ll reimburse me for, by the way.”

  Big Elk’s arms went overhead and he bent to his left, inhaled up and bent to the right, eyes full of malicious humor. When he straightened he said, “People of the Earth feel strongly about white men desecrating their sacred lands. But I won’t be giving you a dime, Barrett. In fact, I want another mil deposited in that account.”

  Ripping out his throat might be letting him off too easy. “Do you have a death wish?”

  “Like Scott Abbott?”

  This prick didn’t know the first thing about Abbott. He was fishing.

  When Barrett didn’t react, Big Elk narrowed his eyes and considered. “I don’t know how or why, but I’ll bet my best horse you have something to do with that.”

  “Get the job done and get the fuck out of my playground or rot here in jail.”

  “You don’t want to threaten me, Mr. McCreary.”

  “That’s not a threat.”

  Big Elk appeared as casual as if he relaxed at a picnic. “Your daughter might not be happy to see me abused like this.”

  It took all of his control not to fly at the bars and smash Big Elk’s skull. Through a jaw locked as tight as Attica, Barrett said, “Leave her alone.”

  Big Elk shrugged. “Okay. You ought to know, though, that I’m the only thing standing between her and considerable jail time.”

  Barrett’s lungs hardened to stone.

  Big Elk chuckled again. “The authorities you think you hold in your pocket might be interested to know the name of the brave eco-terrorist who blew up that ski lift.”

  Boots of iron riveted Barrett to the floor and his ears rang with the words he didn’t want to hear.

  “Heather set that explosion and her prints are all over the evidence.”

  22

  Nora’s ankle throbbed as she stepped on the clutch of her old Jeep and downshifted. Maybe running all over the mountain, standing in front of her burned-out lift and driving to town for supplies wasn’t the best recovery plan. Abbey rode shotgun, head shoved from the passenger window and tongue hanging out. The Jeep swung from the highway into Mountain Village.

&nb
sp; During the court battles, she’d thought about the financial benefits of snow making, not only to Kachina Ski but to the whole town. She had sincerely believed in the advantages of making snow. But now wasn’t so sure. Was it right to create a playground, rip out more trees and scour the mountainside so more skiers could spend their weekends and their cash tearing up the wilderness? Would unnatural snow benefit the mountain as she’d thought? After four years of the battle, the victory came at her too fast. She addressed Abbey. “Scott was right. We should get out while we’re alive.”

  Abbey pulled in his tongue, glanced at her, swallowed, and hung his tongue out again.

  Wish I could find something to bring me as much pleasure as riding in the Jeep gave him. Pleasure, my ass, I’d settle for a little less pain and fear.

  She coasted into the parking lot of Kachina. Barrett’s black Mercedes reflected the late morning sunshine. The metal cordon defining the edge of the lot lay on the ground and a set of deep wheel ruts ran over it.

  At the far side of the slope, next to the gnarled remains of the lift, several pickups parked and a dozen men in hard hats milled around. Barrett stood with a man who had to be a crew foreman.

  “That son of a bitch.” Nora sprinted across the slope. About halfway there Barrett noticed her and he walked away from the men to meet her. She held his gaze as she slowed and stomped toward him. The ache lingering in her ankle fueled her determination.

  “What is this?”

  “The contractors to start trenching for the sprayers.”

  “The sprayers won’t be here until spring. We’ll trench then.”

  Barrett put a hand on Nora’s shoulder. “I reordered my sprayers. They’ll be here next week. It’s been a tough day for you. Go on back to the lodge and get some rest.”

  She felt like smacking him. “You can’t do this.”

  Condescension oozed from Barrett. “I understand jitters. This is a big step. It’s the beginning of taking Kachina Ski from a one run mom and pop operation to a resort rivaling Lake Tahoe. It’s scary and you’re understandably nervous. But you’re up to the task and I’ll be with you every step of the way.”