Chapter Three

Fascinated by Mary's intriguing remark, I chose to put aside my misgivings and move in. The proliferation of insects that trooped in and out of the Delgado house the first few days bothered me more than the supposed phantom. I'd always considered myself fairly brave for a woman, having no particular fear of snakes, mice, or bats. But, when it came to insects, spiders especially, I turned into a shivering coward. There seemed to be an abundance of the eight legged creatures about, plus scorpions, centipedes, and humongous roaches. At my request, Mary sent the exterminator.

On his second visit in three days, overall clad, grizzle-faced, Lloyd "Skeeter" Jenkins of the Bugs-Be-Gone Exterminating Company, told me all I needed to know, and more, about the insects and rodents indigenous to the great state of Arizona.

"Now I kin git rid o' them pesky mice fer ya, an'the powder I'll lay down'll keep them centipedes and scorpions on their toes, so to speak. Spiders is something else again. Them suckers kin walk right over the stuff with them long legs o' theirs."

He left me with the sage advice to "never put yer shoes on in the mornin' til you've whopped 'em good. There's no tellin' what kinda critter mighta moved in an' set up housekeepin' durin' the night."

I wondered if I'd ever get used to the bugs, the dust, and the scalding sun. The calendar said it was still April but I could have sworn spring had been canceled and we'd gone right into summer as it was already in the 90's. My asthma had improved, but I was miserably hot.

"Don't you worry, sugar," Ginger had soothed hearing my complaint, "as soon as your blood thins, you'll get used to it." I wasn't sure I wanted my blood to thin.

My first week on the job was an exercise in frustration and adaptation. The Sun, a sixteen page tabloid, was published only twice weekly, Wednesdays and Saturdays. I sorely missed the daily deadlines, the lively newsroom chatter, and stimulation of the big city. I knew I couldn't go back to damp, cool Pennsylvania and face a life of being incapacitated, yet I didn't want to stay either.

My other co-worker - young, blond, brash and not overly bright Jim Sykes - didn't sympathize with my position. He grabbed all the interesting assignments while I got the leftovers. If I had to cover one more banquet, Ladies Club function, or write one more article about who was visiting whom from out of town, I felt I'd go nuts.

After banging my knee on the narrow desk for the third time that morning, I grumbled, "I hate this damn thing."

Bradley Talverson swiveled around at my remark, and taunted me with a crooked grin. "Welcome to the club. We all started at the rookie desk. Now it's your turn."

"Yeah," young Sykes joined in. "Now that Johnny boy's split, you're low man on the totem pole."

I glanced swiftly from one to the other. Neither man seemed particularly disturbed by his disappearance, and I reminded myself again that even they could not know of my secret assignment. I phrased my question carefully, trying to sound indifferent. "Oh, yeah. What was he like? John Dexter, I mean?"

Bradley's eyes narrowed. "All hat and no cattle."

I raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"

"He was a pain in the ass. Interested only in trash journalism."

"But he was real popular with the ladies. Married or single, right Tally?" Jim's eyes gleamed wickedly.

I knew there was some significance to the remark by the deadly expression on Bradley's face before he turned his back to us. His constant mood swings puzzled me. Sometimes he was cordial and friendly. At other times, withdrawn, angry almost, as if he were struggling with some inner demon. More than once, I'd caught him looking at me with an unreadable expression in his dark eyes.

Anxious to pursue the subject of John Dexter, I had just formulated my next question when Ginger stuck her head in the doorway. "Come on, sugar, let's shake it. Time for lunch."

Damn! If only she had waited five minutes. Bradley and Jim resumed their work; my chance for more questions gone for now.

As we walked the three blocks to the Iron Skillet, I silently thanked God for Ginger King who'd unabashedly inserted herself into the vacant slot in my life marked: friend. Short and round with light brown hair and sparkling ginger-colored eyes, she bubbled over with good humor. She was also a hopeless gossip. Endearing, but hopeless.

Three days earlier, during our first lunch together, she'd shrieked with laughter when I recounted my story of meeting Bradley, whose close friends called him Tally, she informed me. I learned all about her family, that she'd been born in Georgia, relocated to Texas when she was fourteen, then to Arizona and finally her heartfelt desire to settle down and have children.

"How old are you, sugar?"

"Twenty-eight."

"Well, you still have some time. I'm gonna be thirty-three next month and eligible men in this town are scarcer than hen's teeth."

Mingled between anecdotes about the good citizens of Castle Valley, she skillfully extracted large chunks of my background.

"I got married right after college, but it lasted barely two years."

"Oh, that's a shame." For a few seconds her expression was sympathetic, then it turned impish. "So, what happened? He beat ya? Chase other women? Was he gay?"

I laughed. "I think you've been watching too many talk shows. Sorry to disappoint you, but it was nothing so dramatic. I'd been working at my dad's newspaper since I could read and could do every job there practically in my sleep.

I was restless, ready to move on and my husband was studying to be a pharmacist. His plans included us staying in Spring Hill, complete with picket fence and a dozen kids. Mine didn't. Neither of us could change, so we parted friends. He got the dog, and I took my maiden name back."

Throughout the remainder of the meal, she'd pressed me for further details, and it was amusing to hear some of the things I'd told her, repeated by other staff members the following day. Some details were embellished almost beyond recognition.

With that in mind now, as we entered the restaurant and slid into the red vinyl booth, I vowed to talk less of myself and concentrate on extracting information from her.

"Oh, lookee here," she cried, eyeing the menu with regret. "Chicken and dumplin's. And me on a stupid diet again."

"Go ahead and have it if you want it."

She drew back in mock horror. "Easy for you to say, being skinny as a rail. Food don't go to my stomach, darlin'. Everything goes right here," she complained, patting her hips.

We were both giggling when a chestnut-haired woman interrupted, asking for our order. "Oh, Lucy," Ginger gushed, a sly expression stealing over her features, "this is Kendall O'Dell. Kendall, this is Lucinda Johns. She and her Aunt Polly run this place."

When I told her how much I'd enjoyed the previous lunch, she smiled and thanked me. As she took our orders, I couldn't help but notice her enormous boobs. It made me feel positively flat.

"Kendall's our new gal on the beat over at the paper. Ain't that nice?" The syrupy tone of Ginger's voice surprised me.

Curious, I glanced at her, then back to Lucinda in time to see her smile shrink. "I see. Congratulations." She cast a speculative glance at me before turning away.

A mischievous light gleamed in Ginger's eyes. "Okay," I demanded, "what was that little scene all about? You might as well have told her I have some dreaded disease by the way she acted."

"I just wanted to see if she'd act jealous."

"Jealous of whom?"

She studied her fingertips. "You."

"Me? Why?"

"Cause she's had her eye on Tally since grade school. Her knowing you are there practically sitting in his lap all day'll keep her on her toes."

"I'm surprised at you. That was downright catty."

"I can't help myself."

"Well, she needn't worry. I'm totally burnt out on the male sex at this moment."

She cocked her head in question, so I told her the barest details about my shattered romance with Grant Jamerson, glossing over most of the painful details. "It was for the best, however. He'd have made a lousy husband."

As the noisy lunch crowd filled the room, I watched Lucinda and another waitress scurry from table to table. Five minutes later, she set the plates down in front of us without a word and managed the barest of smiles before rushing away.

I shook my head sadly. "Shame on you, Ginger. I've only been here nine days, and already I have a mortal enemy."

"Oh, flapdoodle. She'd have found out about you eventually any hoot. She keeps pretty close tabs on him."

I dug into my tuna salad. "So, they're an item?"

"If Tally was willing, she'd drag him to the preacher tomorrow. He's quite a catch y'know."

Ignoring her implication, I buttered a roll and yawned my disinterest. "To each his own, I guess."

"A gal could do worse."

I stopped eating. "Forget it, Ginger. I don't mean to sound condescending, but I can do better than a hired ranch hand."

She choked on her sandwich. "Ranch hand! Didn't anybody tell you? He and his family own the Starfire. It's one of the biggest dang cattle ranches in the state."

I felt like my chin was going to hit the table. The sparkle in Ginger's eyes reflected her enjoyment.

"Well, what's he doing working at that two bit . . . I mean at the paper?"

"He ain't been there but two years. He needed to get his mind off of what happened, I guess." A dreamy look came over her face. "It musta almost stopped his heart when he laid eyes on you the first time."

"Why?"

"With all that flaming red hair? He's gotta be thinking of his wife, Stephanie."

I'm sure my face looked incredulous. "If he's married, why should Lucinda be jealous of me?"

"He ain't married no more. Stephanie's dead as a doornail. Rode out one stormy night on one of them prize appaloosa horses of his and got throwed off. Died of a broken neck, she did." It was obvious by the satisfied gleam in her eyes that she was relishing every word.

"No kidding?"

"Yep. But that ain't the half of it." She lowered her voice. "Now, I ain't one for carryin' tales, but some folks 'round here didn't think it was an accident, including our very own John Dexter."

"Really? And, what did he think?"

"That Tally killed her."