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A full hour after we’d left Little Tombstone, we finally reached a rickety gate at what I could only imagine was the end of the road.
On the gate was a sign that said, NO TRESPASSING.
“Well,” said Ledbetter. “I guess that’s it.”
“Are you suggesting we turn around and go back?”
“I am suggesting that. Around these parts, if you go past a locked gate with a no trespassing sign on it, you’re asking to get pumped full of lead, no questions asked.”
“But the gate isn’t locked,” I said.
“It was a manner of speech,” Ledbetter insisted. “Whether the gate is actually locked is a technicality Duke is unlikely to consider before opening fire.”
“He wouldn’t really do that,” I said but without conviction.
“Well, it was an interesting ride. I’ve always wondered what the road was like up past the mine.”
“Well, now you know: practically impassable.”
“I guess we might as well head back down,” said Ledbetter as he motioned for me to get back on the bike.
“Wait!” I said, “I think I hear an engine.”
Ledbetter listened and agreed with me. We waited another five minutes, and a large, black diesel pickup labored into view.
“That’s not Duke,” said Ledbetter.
“I think that’s Dr. Bagley.”
“What would she be doing up here?” Ledbetter asked.
“No idea, but I intend to ask her.”
Ledbetter’s bike was blocking the road, so Dr. Bagley had no choice but to come to a stop in front of us.
Roberta Bagley is generally a genial soul, and I’ve never had any exchange with her that was less than cordial, but I could see by the expression on her face as she stuck her head out the open window of her pickup that I was about to have one.
“This is a private road,” she said without acknowledging that she’d ever clapped eyes on either of us in her life.
“Is it?” I said. “On this side of the gate?”
“It became private just past the mine,” said Dr. Bagley seeming to recognize me for the first time as I removed my helmet. “Is that you, Emma?”
I nodded, and Dr. Bagley asked what I was doing so far out from civilization.
“This is Ledbetter,” I said without answering her question. “Ledbetter lives at Little Tombstone. Perhaps you’ve met?”
I had a feeling that we’d have a better chance of making it past the gate if I didn’t tell her I was there to interrogate Duke Dundee about Reba’s head wound and if he had any idea how it got there.
Dr. Bagley said she had not had the pleasure of meeting Ledbetter, which didn’t surprise me. Ledbetter hates crowds, and although he’ll show up for small gatherings like birthday parties and the occasional wedding, he generally avoids large community events.
Dr. Bagley stuck her hand out the window, and Ledbetter shook it.
“I mistook you two for out-of-towners looking for those lost jewels or whatever that crazy scheme is Hank Edwards has cooked up with that con artist.”
“I think Hank is in more danger of being conned than anyone,” I pointed out, and Dr. Bagley grudgingly agreed, although I sensed she was not as confident as I was of Hank’s sincere belief that the desert around Amatista contained concealed jewels just waiting to be discovered.
“We thought we’d do a little exploring,” said Ledbetter, clearly catching on to my reticence to tell Dr. Bagley the real reason for our outing. “I’ve never taken my bike up past the mine.”
“Well, you’re in luck,” said Dr. Bagley. “It just so happens that I’m bringing up some supplies to my son, so I’ll let you through. Not many people know it, but there’s quite a view off the backside of the mountain.”
Calling the steep hill that housed the old amethyst mine a mountain was somewhat optimistic, but we’d never have a better opening to see where Duke Dundee lived than we were getting right now, so I said we’d love to see the view at the end of the road.
“This is your son’s place?” I asked.
“Yes,” Roberta’s face clouded over a bit as she said it. “He likes to keep to himself.”
This revelation that Duke (presumably) was Dr. Bagley’s son was news to me. I wondered why Juanita hadn’t mentioned that Dr. Bagley and Duke were mother and son, but considering the substantial dump of information she had given me, perhaps it had simply slipped her mind.
“How’s Reba doing?“ I asked.
“Much better, but she won’t be back at work for another few days, most likely.”
“Is Crystal still in jail?” I asked.
“They let Crystal go home, but I don’t think she’s off the hook,” said Dr. Bagley. “I just can’t believe—”
Roberta Bagley was clearly still of the opinion that Crystal had been framed for attacking Reba.
“Are you absolutely certain Reba didn’t see who attacked her?” I asked.
If Reba had an inkling of who’d snuck up behind her, it might go a long way to exonerating Crystal, despite the fact that her handbag and its assorted contents had been left lying all over at the scene of the crime.
“Reba doesn’t remember a thing,” said Dr. Bagley. “She’d gone into the exam room to retrieve a file she’d left there earlier, and the next thing she knew, she was coming to in a hospital bed.”
“She doesn’t remember Jason Wendell or me being there or the ambulance ride or anything?” I asked.
“Not a thing,” said Dr. Bagley, then abruptly changed gears. “Would you like to meet my son? He’s not one for visitors, but—”
“We’d love to!” I said before Roberta got to whatever she’d intended to say after “but.”
“I’ll have to check with Duke,” said Dr. Bagley. “Why don’t you guys go on out to the end of the road and enjoy the view, and then on your way back, swing by the house? If Duke is up to company, we’ll be out on the porch waiting for you. If we’re not, you can just keep on going back down the hill.”
The view at the end of the road, while falling short of spectacular, was pleasant. We leaned against Ledbetter’s bike, taking in the panorama of boulders and sagebrush punctuated by the occasional saguaro. The distant Jemez Mountains rose against the sky.
The sun was low, and we’d not be able to linger long at Duke’s even if he did welcome visitors. I’d tried to text down to Little Tombstone to let Oliver know I probably wouldn’t be getting to the promised painting in Marsha’s cottage, but my text had failed to send.
“I wonder why Duke keeps to himself?” I said.
“There’re lots of reasons someone might withdraw from society,” said Ledbetter.
“Juanita said Duke was forced to retire early from the rodeo circuit because of an injury.”
“I doubt there’s anything unusual about that. The rodeo is a dangerous business. At some point, I imagine there’s only so many broken bones a body can take.”
When we drove back past Duke’s modest cabin, he and his mother were sitting out on the front porch in a couple of rocking chairs.
Duke seemed anything but happy to have visitors, but I didn’t let that stop me. I sprung off the back of Ledbetter’s bike before he’d even cut the engine.
“You must be Duke!“ I said as I skipped up the steps to the porch.
“I must be,” said Duke dryly as if he lacked a sense of humor and viewed the deficit as a matter of personal pride.
There were a couple of straight back chairs next to the rockers, which I imagined Dr. Bagley had dragged out of the house in anticipation of guests.
“Isn’t it a shame about Reba,” I said before I’d even seated myself in one of the proffered chairs.
“Thank goodness it looks like she’s going to make a full recovery,” Roberta Bagley said, looking over to her son in the expectation that he say something socially appropriate about how it was fortunate that Reba’s injuries appeared not to have caused permanent damage.
Dr. Bagley didn’t get the response she was expecting because instead of Duke offering up some appropriate platitude, he did the opposite. “It’s a shame Crystal didn’t hit her just a little bit harder and finish the job!”
“Donald Patrick Dundee!” said his mother as if he were a boy of six who’d just said something unspeakably rude in front of guests, and she wanted to make abundantly clear she did not approve.
“Well, she deserves whatever she had coming to her,” said Duke. “It’s shameless how she treats men.”
The bitterness with which Duke expressed himself made me wonder if his feelings toward Reba Vance might not be deeply personal. Duke reminded me of one of those entitled predatory types who becomes violent when his amorous advances are repudiated.
“So, you think Crystal really did it?” I asked.
“Of course, she did,” Duke spat out. “Reba and Blake were carrying on behind her back.”
I couldn’t help wondering how Duke was privy to this information, assuming it was true, but I was afraid to ask.
“Duke, you know that’s not true!” Dr. Bagley scolded. “I’m sorry,” she said, turning to me. “He has days when he’s not at his best. You’d better go.”
I was ready to persist in questioning Duke on his line of reasoning regarding Crystal’s motivation for attacking Reba, but Ledbetter was already rising to his feet to go even though he’d barely sat down.
“I’m sure it wasn’t Crystal!” Dr. Bagley said firmly.
“Well, if it wasn’t,” said Duke, “then it was that other guy Reba’s been seeing.”