Hold On (Margret Malone Book 1) Read online

  23

  Deputy Smith

  “Hello Captain,” said Doug as he entered the office. “Have you found anything to help us on this case?”

  The captain knew Doug from work on other cases in the park. The head of security for five years, Doug had seen eight investigations that required outside law enforcement. Two cases involving missing persons, a robbery at the museum, thieves targeting luxury motor homes, some failed rescues, and a climber hiding to avoid extradition. Doug had seen death before, but nothing this brutal and personal. Patty was a friend.

  A maroon and white sheriff’s car pulled up outside the office. Deputy Greg Smith got out, put on his hat, and brushed off his sharply creased uniform. He adjusted his pistol, and went inside. “Captain Sheffield? I’ve been assigned to help with the investigation. I’m Deputy Smith—Greg.”

  “Hello deputy, we’re glad to have your help. This is Doug, the head of security here in the park. We’re just going over what we have so far, nothing stands out too much yet, but at least we have some information to start from.”

  “We sent a dog out, and every person available is combing the valley. Nobody’s leaving the park without clearance, and the gates are closed to anybody new coming in,” said Doug.

  Captain Sheffield stood up, “What about the climbers? They have a way of vanishing when things get heated.”

  “I have some people stationed at their campsite. They are people with climbing experience that could scramble up the walls if need be,” replied Doug. “And I have a ranger on top of El Capitan to intercept anybody that’s already climbing. We might get something from their vantage point high on the rock.”

  “Are the climbers suspect?” Deputy Smith asked, getting out his note pad.

  “The—partial body was found near the climbing camp,” said the captain.

  Doug shifted, uneasy, “When Paul and I talked to the climbers the first time—they were eating stew. The same kind as the cans we found.”

  “That puts somebody from the climber’s camp near the spot where Patty’s necklace was found,” stated the captain.

  “Yes, sir,” said Doug.

  “Is Margret Malone a climber—or a girlfriend of a climber?”

  “Malone—not that I know of, lots of people come and go out there. But she did have Patty’s necklace, and if the cans are a connection, maybe she knows something. The killer had to have been at the climber’s camp—or very close to it.”

  Smith asked, “Who is Margret Malone?”

  “She found a necklace known to belong to the deceased,” said George. The captain poured coffee for everyone. “Tell me what you know about Patty Waters, what she was involved in, what kind of person she was. What’s her connection with the Native American community?”

  Doug took a deep breath, “Patty is—was an exemplary employee. Always on time, very involved with park projects. I don’t know anybody who didn’t like—love her. She’d always stand up for the little guy—people who she thought weren’t getting a fair shake.”

  “Like the Native Americans?”

  “Yeah, she loved to talk about park history, and how the Indians lived before the Calvary kicked them out.”

  “How does Coleson Mining fit into the picture?”

  “The mining company had exclusive rights to explore on public lands, some of it in the park, and some outside. Unfortunately, part of that land overlaps Native American land, or at least, land they call sacred. Patty tried not to take sides because she was involved—engaged to Curt Coleson, it was a sore spot with them for sure.”

  Deputy Smith asked, “And Curt is on the mine company’s side?”

  “He isn’t directly employed, but he is the only heir to Charles Coleson’s fortune.”

  Captain Sheffield scribbled some notes. “What happened between Patty and Curt? They broke the engagement?”

  “We were called to Patty’s cabin several times when arguments between her and Curt got heated. He pushed her around and she got scared. He was still a ranger then, and most of us took her side of things.”

  “Why did he quit? Or was he fired?”

  “He wasn’t fired. Curt left the service because he had family connections in mining. He couldn’t be dedicated to preserving the park, and promote mining. The mining company claims nothing would show, but the other side feels it still violates their sacred land. I think Curt’s father encouraged him, or pressured him, to quit because it looked bad to have someone on both sides.”

  “What was Patty’s involvement at the meeting Monday night—the night she was killed?”

  “Patty volunteered to be neutral, the facilitator. Both sides agreed they could trust her.”

  “She didn’t stand to gain anything from the outcome?”

  “Not that I know of, except points with Curt.”

  “Who knew about the meeting, and that she was facilitator?”

  “Everyone there—and it was on the park roster. Patty’s name was listed as the contact.”

  “So who gets that information, the roster?”

  “Anyone that works in the park, the hotels, the diner, campgrounds, rangers.”

  “Thanks, Doug. Could I ask one more favor?”

  “Sure.”

  “I haven’t been able to contact Sam Parks. Do you know where I’d find him?”

  “Yeah, he lives up by Lake Tenaya. Cell service is horrible, and the land lines aren’t too reliable either, they go down when there’s a storm. He probably can’t get in because of the snow anyway. I can send him an e-mail, they get internet.”

  “Let me know if anything turns up in the field.”

  “I will sir, they should be reporting back soon.”

  Doug got up and shook hands with the captain and Greg, he seemed weary when he walked out. They watched him leave before continuing.

  “This case is tough on the local guys, they’re too close to the deceased,” said George.

  “What was the meeting about on Monday? Have we interviewed everyone yet?” Greg asked.

  “I asked each of the seven attendees what the meeting was about, and if they were satisfied with the outcome. They signed documents to prevent exploration and mining across Indian controlled land.”

  “Who was the losing side?”

  “The Coleson Mining Company, they wanted a mining contract, but the majority voted to prevent it.”

  “Why would they even consider it? Wouldn’t the Indian Nation be giving up a fortune if there was gold discovered?”

  “The conflict was because Coleson Mineral proposed to build an Indian owned and operated school in exchange for the mineral rights. In addition, ten percent of the proceeds would go back to the Indian Nation to support and maintain the school project. Mining is expensive if nothing is found.”

  “So how does Patty fit into this?”

  “She was facilitator, not a voting member. Two members reported that Patty was to take papers to the courthouse the next day to file them.”

  “Do we have the documents?”

  “No, several people mentioned the documents were put in a briefcase. Sam Parks was to meet Patty at the court house with the key to the case. The briefcase is missing.”

  “Any other identifiers on the case?” Deputy Smith was taking notes.

  “It was black leather, committee member, Lynn Hightower said there were initials—PW embossed in the corner.”

  “Who voted against Coleson Mineral?”

  “Here’s the list,” George put the list on the table in front of Greg. “I’ve cleared everyone on it except Sam Parks, I still need to talk to him. I think it was a hard decision because they need a school for their kids, but they didn’t want to see the land mined. The land is their heritage, they’ve lived off it for thousands of years, without conflict, until gold was discovered.”

  “Who was on the other side?”

  “Everyone who voted to go ahead with the project works at Coleson Mining. They have kids too, but they need a place to earn a living. Th
ey aren’t willing to risk living off the land, starving in the winter.”

  “Sounds like the ones that were voted down would have a reason to steal the documents. Would that be motive for murder—especially one that brutal?”

  “I don’t know. When asked what time they left the meeting, everyone said it ended about nine-forty-five. Coleson offered to buy everyone supper at the diner, so most of them went. So far, everyone’s story checks out. The waitress on duty said the group all seemed friendly, and no one seemed to be drunk. She also offered that Charles Coleson left her a generous tip. I’ll need you to follow up to verify what time they all got home.”

  “What about the others?”

  “The Hightowers went home right after the meeting and were back home by ten-thirty. I verified that with their babysitter.”

  “And the last one?”

  “Sam Parks.”

  “What time was the last contact with the deceased?”

  “Patty reported a bear sighting at ten-seventeen. There’s nothing after that,” said the captain.

  “If this list checks out, the only suspect we have here is Sam Parks, and possibly Margret Malone.”

  24

  Lake Tenaya

  After an hour or so of walking across a wide meadow in the snow, Margret was exhausted again. The snow was bright with the sun shining on it. Her eyes hurt and she rubbed them. She had sunglasses with her, but when she found them in her pack they were broken. Sitting down to rest for a while, Joseph commented on the look of it.

  “Your backpack looks like you’ve been hiking for years now,” he said, smiling.

  “I feel like I’ve been hiking for years,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Joseph, If there’s a road that leads to your village, why are you walking all this way? Why didn’t you take the shuttle bus?”

  “My Grandfather gave me something, and asked me to bring it to him by walking through the back country.”

  “But why? If he needs it right away, wouldn’t it be faster to take the bus?”

  “It would be faster, but maybe not better. I don’t know why he wants it this way. And I don’t know what’s in the case he gave me. With him, it’s best to just do what he says—he’ll explain later. I trust him.” Joseph unlaced his snow shoes. “We’ll be able to walk faster without these now, the snow is melting.”

  Margret unlaced her own snow shoes and made an effort to put them in her pack. “No need to keep them. They’ll just fall apart and become part of the meadow.”

  “Oh, but they’re so—cool!”

  Joseph laughed and told her he could make a new pair for her later. “Come on, we’re almost there, I’m hungry, but not for Skittles!”

  As they walked Margret asked, “Where do you go to school around here?”

  “I was home schooled by my grandmother. Some of us stay in town during the school year and go to the school there. It’s a problem though—we aren’t always welcomed by the other students. We’re hoping to build a school so our families aren’t divided for much of the year.”

  “Will you go on to college?”

  “I’d like to go to medical school. I want to be a doctor, but I’d need to get a scholarship in order to go. Home schooling doesn’t give too many opportunities to prove that I’m scholarship material.”

  “I see the problem. I think you’d make a good doctor,” Margret said. “I want to be a writer, but my father’s a college professor and he thinks I should teach. My grandpa told me to go out and have some adventures before I go to college. He said I wouldn’t have anything to write about if I never did anything.”

  “Your grandpa is a smart man I think. I’ll read your book when you finish it.”

  “Thank you Dr. Parks!”

  The two walked a little further, then Joseph pointed out what looked like a group of houses that were not unlike the one she grew up in. In the distance she could see a shimmering blue lake, with a granite dome mountain for a backdrop.

  “That’s Lake Tenaya,” explained Joseph. “It was named for a great chief, one of my ancestors, I’m told. They named it after him because he helped keep the tribe peaceful when the Calvary came to move them off the land. They say he wasn’t impressed when they told him he’d have the great honor of a lake being named after him. He said that the lake already had a name.”

  “The Calvary came and kicked them off the land?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Gold. As soon as the government thought the land could be profitable, they wanted to move them off.”

  “That seems like a bad deal. You live there?” she said, pointing to the houses.

  “Yes,” said Joseph. “What were you expecting, tipi’s?”

  “Ah…no, I mean—yes. I guess I don’t know what I was expecting,” said Margret, blushing.

  Joseph laughed, “Yeah, we have TV and everything.”

  The house was small, with white siding. On the red tin roof was a satellite dish, and a battered wire fence surrounded the yard. There were a few chickens scratching around inside the fence, although the gate was open. Parked in the driveway was a rusty, Ford pick-up truck. “You have a truck?”

  “My grandfather has a truck. I don’t get to drive it too often.”

  They went inside, and were greeted by Joseph’s grandparents, Sam Parks and his wife Julie. The elderly gentleman was soft spoken, with grey hair cut above his collar. He wore blue jeans and a heavy, flannel shirt. In his dark eyes it was easy to see the pride he had for his grandson.

  Mrs. Parks had long, white hair that was braided and wound up in a bun on her head. She wore an ankle-length denim skirt and a bright, woven shawl over her shoulders. She excused herself to the kitchen after welcoming Margret into her home and giving Joseph a big hug. Delicious smells were coming from that direction and Margret suddenly wanted nothing more to do with Skittles.

  Margret was shown where the bathroom and a nice hot shower were. She was told to take her time, and supper would be served when she was done. Margret wasn’t sure which excited her more—a hot shower or whatever was cooking in the kitchen.

  She undressed and got into the shower, planning to make it a quick one. When the steaming water started to cascade over her tired muscles she found it difficult to get back out. It felt wonderful to be clean again.

  She stepped back out, and dried herself with a fluffy white towel, wrapping it around her body. She unzipped her dirty pack, trying to find the clean clothes she knew were in there. The contents were a tangled mess, and it was hard to locate what she needed without taking everything out.

  That’s when she found it. It was zipped into a side pocket that she hadn’t been using, the sight of the thing took her breath away. Joseph must have heard her gasp and tapped on the door.

  “Supper is almost ready. Are you okay in there?”

  “Um, yeah, I’ll be right out,” she called through the closed door. Her mind was spinning. How did that get in there—and when? When she was dressed, she zipped it back in and brought the pack out to the back door and sat it down.

  She went to the kitchen to talk with Mrs. Parks while she readied the table for their meal. Still rattled, she was at a loss for words, but Julie had a knack for drawing people out of their shell.

  Margret offered to help, and while they worked she and Julie chatted. “Joseph said you made the backpack he carries. That’s so cool.”

  Julie smiled, “Yes—it isn’t a traditional Ahwahechee basket, but it’s practical for modern times, or modern youth, that is.”

  “You make other stuff?”

  “Oh yes, I do the traditional baskets, and weavings. I put on demonstrations at the Cultural Center in the valley.”

  “I missed the Cultural Center. I’ll go there when I get back. Do they have other exhibits as well?”

  “Yes, there are a lot of Native American artifacts, and artwork from more recent time, current stuff, you know? But I don’t think it’s going to be open for a while. First there was the brea
k-in, and now this latest thing,” Julie handed her a dish of food. “Could you take this in to the table?”

  When she came back Margret asked, “You said break-in. You mean there was a robbery?”

  “Yes, many of our historical artifacts are being stolen, and sold, for a few pennies, like a tourist trinket. The stuff is a valuable connection to our past. Our history is being lost a little bit at a time,” said Julie.

  Margret was carrying in what seemed like an endless supply of food. There was a heaping mound of boiled red potatoes, fried chicken, seasoned with a savory sprinkling of herbs, bright orange squash, and corn muffins fresh out of the oven. When Margret thought the table was already full, Mrs. Parks brought out a bowl of hot, fresh-cooked applesauce and a dish of butter. “Oh this smells heavenly,” said Margret.

  When Joseph emerged from his shower he had on a clean, tight-fitting, thermal shirt and a new-looking pair of jeans. His shiny black hair was wet and combed back, hanging free against his back. He looked relaxed and handsome, Margret thought, as he took his place at the table.

  They all enjoyed the meal, but Margret couldn’t believe how good everything tasted. She commented that she couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten so well. Joseph grinned and teased her about having acorns and Skittles for supper. She shot back a jab about man not living on jerky alone.

  After the meal Margret helped Julie to clean up, while Joseph and Sam went into the living room to talk. The men discussed the reason it had taken Joseph so long to make the trip across the back country. He told his Grandfather about the encounter with Lance and their adventure in the cave.

  When she’d finished in the kitchen, Margret joined the men in the living room.

  Mr. Parks turned to Margret and said, “I hear you need to get back to the valley. There’s no shuttle today, but tomorrow the snow will be gone and the road open. I’d be pleased to have you as a guest in my home tonight. Tomorrow I need to go to the valley, the park service wants to talk to me. I can give you a ride then.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Parks. You and your family have already been so helpful,” said Margret. “The park service? Did they ever find that missing woman?”