A Peachy Mess Page 6

Michelle shot Sam a worried look. “I'll go with him,” she said. “I need some air.”

  Henry smiled at Michelle. “Say, you're really pretty. My girlfriend back home would be jealous.”

  “Luggage, please,” Charlie moaned at his son in exasperation. Henry winked at Michelle and hurried outside. Michelle rolled her eyes and followed Henry outside into the bright day.

  Ruth walked over to her two young sons and checked on them. “We'll take a nap and then eat,” she promised the twins in a loving voice. “Okay?”

  “Okay,” the twins said in unison and continued to pass back and forth the bottle of water they were holding, taking sips.

  “They're really beautiful,” Melinda told Ruth.

  “They sure are,” Sam agreed. He bent down and touched Michael's nose with his right finger and smiled at him fondly. Momma Peach could see he would have made a wonderful father. “I'm going to make you two the best cheeseburgers you've ever tasted,” he promised. Michael and William smiled happily.

  After Charlie got his family checked in and settled into their rooms, Sam held a meeting in the lobby. “Okay,” he said in a stern voice, “what's the news?”

  “Mrs. Milkson's body is missing,” Momma Peach told Sam and then aimed a kick at Andy's legs. “Get up and let me rest my feet.”

  Andy rolled his eyes and stood up. Momma Peach sat down wearily. “Missing?” Sam asked worriedly.

  “Missing,” Michelle confirmed. She looked down the hallway and studied the closed doors. “We have guests to protect. One of us will need to stand guard in this lobby at all times.”

  “Agreed,” Sam told Michelle. “Andy, you stand first watch. We'll pull four-hour shifts. There's six of us. If we all pull a four-hour shift, that'll cover a twenty-four-hour period. The Neilsons should be checked out and down the road by then.”

  “Fine with me,” Andy said.

  Michelle shook her head. “Sam, we need to pull the shifts in teams,” she insisted. Michelle glanced back at Andy's face. “You know, in case someone might try and escape.” There was no doubt in anyone’s mind who she meant. Andy scowled.

  Sam shoved his hands down into the pockets of his pants. He felt tired. “Okay, we'll pull the shifts in pairs,” he agreed. “I'll pull the first shift with Andy. Jack, you and Melinda pull the second shift. Momma Peach, you and Detective Chan can tackle the third shift. We'll keep rotating shifts until the Neilsons are safely down the road.”

  “Fair enough,” Jack said and stood up from behind the front desk with a piece of paper in his hand. “Sam, I wrote down the names of all the guests that have stayed here in the last two weeks.”

  “Good work,” Sam told Jack. “I need to work on my own list.” Sam looked at Michelle. “Detective Chan, I've racked my brain and I still can't recall anyone matching the description you gave me. I'm sure sorry.” Sam shook his head. “What a mess we have here. I hate to admit it, but...maybe we should call the State Patrol. I'm not much for the law, but we seem to be in over our heads here.”

  “I already suggested that, but Detective Chan doesn't seem to agree,” Jack explained to Sam.

  Michelle stepped into the middle of the lobby. “A close friend of mine is missing...possibly dead. I want to discover the truth. If we call the State Patrol, I will be forced to stand down. I know I'm asking a lot, but please, allow Momma Peach and me to investigate. Just for a little bit longer.”

  “I say you call the State Patrol,” Andy snapped at Michelle. “The sooner I can leave this town the better.”

  “I hate to agree with him, but,” Jack told Michelle, “we are in danger and now,” he pointed out, “the lives of five more innocent people are at risk. I'm calling the State Patrol.”

  “I agree with my husband,” Melinda said and cast Michelle a sympathetic eye. “I'm very sorry about your friend, Detective Chan.”

  “Me, too,” Michelle said. She walked over to Momma Peach and sat down on the arm of the chair. Momma Peach wrapped her arm around Michelle and waited for Jack to make his call.

  Jack picked up the brown phone sitting on the work desk beside him and then, taken aback, he shook his head as he replaced it. “Dead,” he said in an upset voice.

  Sam hurried behind the desk and grabbed the phone out of Jack's hand and attempted to get a dial tone. He failed. “Someone cut the phone line,” he said and carefully set the phone down.

  “Give me your bike,” Andy told Sam in an urgent voice, “I'll ride up to High Cliffs and call the State Patrol from there.”

  But before Sam could answer, a low growl of thunder erupted outside. Sam raced out from behind the desk and made his way over to the front door and yanked it open. A dark, vicious storm was quickly filling the sky and blocking out the sun. Powerful winds began to pour into the little town, howling around the buildings, throwing dirt and sand up into the air. “This storm came on like a shadow,” Sam said in a worried voice. “Weather was forecasted to be clear today.”

  Momma Peach stood up and walked over to the front door with Michelle and very carefully stepped out onto the front porch. Jack and Melinda followed. Andy stayed behind in the lobby. “I don't like the look of that storm,” she told Sam and cradled her arms together, “No sir, I’m getting a very bad feeling in my tummy.”

  Michelle studied the ugly gray clouds as the winds whipped through her long black hair. “Sam, how bad is this storm going to be?”

  Sam shook his head. “We don't get much rain out here,” Sam confessed. “I've been through a few dust storms and a few hard spills of rain, but I've never seen a storm like this,” he confessed.

  Jack pulled Melinda close to him. “We're pulling out of here, Sam,” he said in a quick voice. “Melinda and I can make High Cliffs and miss this storm.”

  “Jack, you know the old wooden bridge goes over a dry creek bed. Chances are this storm is going to cause some flooding. I wouldn't chance it.”

  “The bridge is eleven miles up the road. We can make it,” Jack assured Sam. “If we can't, we'll turn around and travel east.”

  “And get caught in the low dip in the roads if they flood,” Sam warned Jack.

  Heavy, thick, raindrops began splattering down onto the hot road. The first few raindrops sizzled out. But then the sky opened up and released a torrential flood of rain that would stay over the town for twenty-four hours. “Desert floods too fast, Jack,” Sam called out over the heavy falling rain and howling winds, “the river bed will be flooded before you reach it.”

  “Sam is right,” Melinda told her husband and squeezed her hands nervously. “We need to stay here until the storm passes.”

  Momma Peach stepped forward, placed her hands on the porch railing, and looked up and down the rainy street. The dry desert town was swiftly becoming a dark, wet nightmare as the sky filled with ominous thunder and powerful bolts of lightning. “I don't like this storm at all,” she whispered as a flash of lightning crashed down from the sky and struck the desert floor with a furious fist. The lightning was followed by a tremendous explosion of thunder that shook the entire town. “Give me strength.”

  Michelle glanced over her shoulder into the lobby and saw Andy missing. “No,” she said and ran into the lobby. Andy was nowhere in sight. “Momma Peach, Andy escaped.”

  Momma Peach shook her head and walked back into the lobby with Sam at her side. “He can't get far,” Sam said. “Maybe he went out back to his motor home. I'll go check.”

  “I better go with you,” Jack told Sam. “Melinda, stay here with Momma Peach and Detective Chan.”

  Melinda closed and locked the front door. “I'm not going anywhere,” she promised.

  Sam nodded his head at Jack. “Let's hurry.”

  Momma Peach watched Sam and Jack jog down the hallway and rush outside through the back door. The back door clanged shut behind them. “I shouldn't have let that weasel out of my sight,” she scolded herself.

  “We all let that ex-convict out of our sight,” Momma Peach told Michelle. “It was that st
orm that distracted us, and that weasel knew it. Now, don't you dare go putting unneeded weight on those sweet shoulders of yours. I ain't gonna allow you to beat yourself up over a man who ain't worth salt.”

  Michelle looked into Momma Peach's eyes and found comfort. “Okay,” she said.

  Momma Peach smiled. She picked up a piece of white computer paper off the front counter. “This is the list Mr. Jack made,” she told Melinda. “Can you tell us about the people on this list?”

  Momma Peach handed Melinda the list. Michelle waited as Melinda began examining the names. “Most of the names are men who stayed over with their families,” she explained. “I remember Mr. Downing...he had a short wife and a plump little son. I remember Mr. Fernnington...a stock broker from New York who had a beautiful wife and a little girl who was a bit, well, snotty. I remember Mr. Lexington...a retired plumber who had a delightful sense of humor. His wife also had a delightful sense of humor, but their teenage daughter seemed embarrassed by the jokes.” Michelle continued to study the list. “Mrs. Wilcox stayed over with her two sisters. They were all widows traveling to Los Angeles together. The only person who arrived here alone besides Mrs. Milkson was Mr. Talley. The rest of the people on this list arrived with family.”

  “Are you sure?” Momma Peach asked Melinda.

  “I'm pretty sure,” Melinda told Momma Peach. She looked at Michelle. “Jack checked in all the people on this list. But I was usually in here with him. I also served most of them lunch and dinner at the restaurant. The people on this list didn't arrive all at once, either. One or two families would pull in every couple of days or so like a slow drip of water.”

  “Melinda, can you tell us about Mr. Talley?” Momma Peach asked.

  “Please,” Michelle begged Melinda, “tell us anything you might remember about the man. What he looked like? What was he wearing? What type of vehicle he was driving?”

  “I wish Jack would have made a copy of the man's driver's license for you,” Melinda told Michelle. “Sam doesn't require us to be too pushy here. All a guest is required to do is write down their name and whether they are paying with a credit card or cash.”

  “What did Mr. Talley pay with?” Momma Peach asked. Thunder erupted outside and shook the lobby. Momma Peach's faithful lizard scurried out from behind the bookshelf and darted across the lobby. This time Momma Peach didn't freak out. Instead, she prepared her pocketbook for an attack as she watched the lizard hurry out of the lobby. Before it could start making its way down the hallway, she yelled: “Die!”

  Michelle watched Momma Peach charge down the hallway after the lizard. The lizard spotted Momma Peach and high-tailed it down to the back door. Just as Momma Peach prepared to throw her pocketbook at the lizard, Sam opened the back door. The lizard happily escaped outside. “What are you doing?” Sam asked Momma Peach, soaked with rain from top to bottom.

  “Lizard,” Momma Peach said with crazy eyes, “the lizard must die!”

  Jack stepped in the hallway behind Sam and closed the back door. He looked into Momma Peach's eyes and stepped back. “Are you okay, Momma Peach?”

  “The lizard will die,” Momma Peach promised and walked back into the lobby. “But maybe not just yet.” Sam whistled in disbelief. Jack shook his head.

  “We checked Andy's motor home. He's gone,” Sam told Michelle when he walked into the lobby. “His bike is still outside. I guess he's around here somewhere. He couldn't have gotten far.”

  “Did you find anything in his motor home?” Michelle asked.

  “Nothing that appeared important,” Jack explained. “The inside was a mess...dirty dishes, clothes on the floor, candy bar wrappers.”

  “I was just about to tell Detective Chan about Mr. Talley,” Melinda explained and flashed the list in her hand at Sam and Jack.

  “Talley?” Sam asked and rubbed the spatters of rain out of his wet beard. “Oh, yeah, the retired school principal from Alabama who was traveling to Bakersfield to see his daughter.” Sam looked at Michelle and then gazed into the distance as he searched his memory. He wandered around until he seemed to find Mr. Talley's face. “Ah,” he said, as if he had set that face in a bright light and begun to examine every single feature he could remember. “Mr. Talley had a thick gray beard and wore heavy reading glasses,” he told Michelle. “He spoke with a thick southern drawl...wore a brown suit, even though it was blazing hot...and...yes,” Sam said and raised his eyes meaningfully to Michelle, “he bought a single postcard from my shop.”

  Michelle felt her heart begin to race. “What else do you remember, Sam?”

  “Well,” Sam said as he continued to rub his wet beard, “I remember Mr. Talley asking me to mail the postcard for him. I didn't think much of it at the time, though. Business was slow as usual, and he said he was planning to extend his stay for a second night. But then, around lunch time, I saw the gray Jeep he was driving pull away.”

  “Mr. Talley wasn't a talker, either,” Jack chimed in. “When I checked him in, the man said a whole three words to me.” Jack brushed rainwater from his hair. “Sam was right when he said the guy was planning to stay a second night. But he didn’t just say that. He also came up to the front desk and paid, with cash, for a second night. I went over to the restaurant to help Michelle after that, so I never saw him leave.”

  “The next morning, I checked Mr. Talley's room and found it clean,” Melinda finished for Jack. “The bed was neatly made. Only one towel had been used. The sink was clean. It was as if no one had slept in the room at all.”

  Thunder erupted outside again. The force of the thunder’s rumble seemed like it would shake the foundations enough to nearly tear the hotel apart. Charlie opened the door to his room and came rushing out. “The storm woke us up,” he said, dressed in a white bath robe.

  Momma Peach looked at Michelle. Michelle walked to the front door. “There's a bad storm in town,” she told Charlie in an ominous voice, “you better get back to your room and stay with your family.”

  Outside, a pair of eyes studied the hotel through the storm with deadly intent.

  Jack knew that staying in the hotel lobby was the smartest action to take. There was safety in numbers and as long as everybody stayed together until the storm passed, they would all be safe. “We'll just sit tight until the storm passes and then I'll drive into High Cliffs with Melinda and we'll send back the state police,” he explained.

  “I guess that's the smartest play,” Sam agreed. “Momma Peach, do you and Detective Chan agree?”

  Momma Peach eased down into the chair. She answered Sam's question with a question of her own. “Mr. Sam, someone stole Mrs. Milkson's body, rest her poor soul,” she said and listened to the howling winds that tore at the hotel. “That poor woman's body has to be somewhere in this town. Tell me, is there a place to hide a body in your town, Mr. Sam?”

  “Sure there is,” Sam told Momma Peach and began walking back and forth across the lobby. “You could hide a body in the storeroom of the general store, I suppose, at least until it started to stink. Or you could use the basement in the jail that was supposedly dug to hide outlaws’ gold, or the back room over at the blacksmith shop where I keep my motorbike and work tools. And there's...other places,” Sam finished in a worried tone.

  “Does Andy know where your motorbike is located?” Michelle asked, not catching Sam's worried tone.

  “Even if he did, it wouldn't do him any good. The bike is out of gas and I'm the only one who has the key to the gas pump in town. Even if someone broke the lock to the gas pump, they would be out of luck – there’s also a very complicated code to activate the pump,” Sam explained.

  Momma Peach sat back in her chair and began thinking. For some reason, her mind stopped wandering around outside and she walked over to Jack. She thought about the history of Gold Dust that Jack had explained to her. The history lesson didn't sit well in her tummy. No sir and no ma’am. Something was amiss. “Mr. Jack?” Momma Peach asked.

  “Yes, Momma Peach?”<
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  “Why did the Milson gang want Sheriff Dunfill dead all those years ago?” Momma Peach inquired. “Those three bad men must have had a reason to want to kill the poor Sheriff.”

  Jack looked at Momma Peach with a confused expression. “I don't know, really. The books I was using for research never stated the reason.”

  Sam shoved his hands down into his wet pants pockets and turned toward the hallway. He studied the closed doors with careful eyes. The Neilson family were safe in their rooms. He could hear music coming from Henry Neilson's room; the music was set at a volume low enough to not bother anyone. He turned back to face the others in the lobby with a serious look on his face. “I know why,” Sam told Momma Peach.

  “I had a feeling you did,” Momma Peach told Sam. “Tell me what you know.”

  Sam faced Momma Peach as he leaned against the stones of the fireplace. His face was tired. “The Milson gang hated Sheriff Dunfill because Sheriff Dunfill gunned down their old man. The fight between Sheriff Dunfill and Eric Milson was fair and the better man came out alive.” Sam kept his hands in his pockets and listened to the storm howl and moan outside. “The library up in High Cliffs contains a few books that hold some truthful information, but I decided long ago to get the whole story. I drove up to Denver while I was waiting for my building permits to be approved by the county and spent a few days digging into the books.”

  “Was Mrs. Sam with you?” Momma Peach asked innocently.

  “Oh, sure, she was,” Sam smiled. “At first, Stephanie seemed bored with my research, but then, when I started coming across some interesting facts, she became interested herself.”

  Momma Peach nodded and made a mental note. “Go on,” she urged Sam.

  Sam looked at the front door. “Outside that door, out in that street, right in front of the courthouse, Sheriff Dunfill went gun to gun and toe to toe with Eric Milson. Eric Milson didn't want Sheriff Dunfill building his town on this land. He claimed the land was his, which was a lie. I couldn’t find any land records supporting Eric Dunfill's claim.”