Tiger cate, p.8
Tiger Cate, page 8
He took out some reading glasses from his breast pocket and put them on self-consciously.
“Well, I have some questions here.” He checked a list on his small clipboard. “Where did you get the drugs that you took?”
Aware she was talking to an officer, Cate bit back her anger and spoke carefully and civilly.
“Well, Deputy Gomez, I didn’t take any drugs. I ate food. And had some champagne.” He looked up from writing. “One full flute and a couple of sips from the second glass. What’s that, about six ounces, maybe?”
He went back to writing while the artist in her instinctively took in his features. The arched black eyebrows and aquiline nose, the hard lines along the jaw, and ironic tilt to his mouth. It was a handsome, lived-in face of someone familiar with pain, who hadn’t yet lost his sense of humor. In a different setting, she might have talked him into holding still for a pencil sketch.
Noticing her intense stare, he made his next query.
“What is your permanent address?”
Another difficult question. “Hmm, that’s hard to say. Can you just put that I’m in between residences and staying with friends in Los Angeles?”
“Their address?”
“And I don’t know that from memory. Have to … check my phone. It’s in my backpack. Did that make the trip to the hospital?” Or was it now in Estelle’s clutches at the house?
The deputy scanned the room before replying, “I’ll ask the nurse. Let’s keep going. What was your business at the Finley Ranch?”
“Besides the fact that I’m, you know, a Finley? I got a text that my sister Margaret was missing. Did you guys get a missing person’s report on her … maybe from a Bronnie Taylor?”
For the first time, Gomez looked truly interested.
“The Bronnie Taylor that works here as a nurse?”
“Yeah … ?”
Cate waited for him to say that Bronnie was a clueless hack who constantly nagged their office with UFO sightings, but Gomez simply returned to his notes.
“Sorry, go on, please.”
“Well, when I arrived here a couple of days ago, I was greeted by a ‘cousin’ named Estelle Parker. Tall gal. Told me Margaret was on a trip and was returning Sunday night — last night, correct? Maybe you could ask Estelle whether my sister actually came home?”
“Hm, I will check on it when I get back to the office.” He wrote a note and then looked up at her. A moment went by.
“You think someone drugged you at a dinner party at Finley Ranch? Who was there? Can you give me their names?”
“I just caught their first names. Um, Randy and Dirk. They were, uh, realtors. Gave me their cards. Then there was Hugh — Hugo … spoke with a British accent. Didn’t catch a last name but he was — is — a nephew of old Sheriff Griffin. There was a slideshow of Finley Ranch being developed into … uh, Cabeza Rock Estates.” She paused to take a breath. Well, that part had come back pretty easily.
In fact, over the past hour, much of the evening had come back to Cate. Right up to that crawl up the back stairs to her room. Gomez pulled a sheet of notes from the clipboard.
“Yeah, here is Estelle Parker’s account of the evening. She had a business meeting with her associates, and then they left. The two of you had a quiet dinner. Champagne was poured, she wasn’t sure how much because she went to bed at some point and left you still drinking — ”
“Wait, that’s not — ” Cate tried to interject, her heart pounding in her ears. She felt Gomez studying her and let him go on.
“Um,” he searched for his place, “the next thing she knew, some hours later, a lit-up ambulance was in the driveway. She said that you had seemed depressed, had talked about poor choices you’d made in your life, financial problems, and a bad breakup. She said she had no idea you were — in her words — ‘so fragile’ or she wouldn’t have left you alone.”
For a moment, Cate just stared at him. I am Alice through the looking glass, she thought, and the Red Queen wants my head. Again, she felt trapped in the room, tethered to beeping machines. She had the urge to yank herself free of the tubes and run away.
“Okay, okay — that?” she gestured to the deputy’s report with her free arm. “That’s all a load of bullshit!” Cate rolled her head to loosen the tension that was quickly seizing up her neck. “Go ask those realtors … Ask Rosa Ruiz — she cooked for us. There was … a barbecue caterer there from town, Copperton … Carlos? Charlie? There were six of us at the table, for God’s sake.”
Looking flustered, the deputy tried to calm her as a nurse entered, summoned by the beeping alarms on the monitors.
“Well, that’s quite a different story. How do I talk with Rosa … Ruiz, is it?”
“The Ruizes live on the property. Right before you get to the ranch entrance. Go left toward the stables and you’ll see a little red clapboard house — same trim as the stable. You can’t miss it. Diego has worked for my family forever. I know Rosa will back me up.”
“Okay. You said there were four men — who was the fourth?”
“Gabe somebody. Not from around here. Sounded like he might be from New York.” That was a hunch on her part. “Maybe a lawyer?” Another hunch.
After Gomez left and Cate was alone again, she leaned back on the bed trying to figure out her next step. Because wasn’t that what heroines in adventure stories did? Alice and the rest of them? In truth, what she wanted was a bus ticket back to LA. What she wanted was for her sister to materialize and fix this mess because, from all appearances, it was Margaret’s mess, not hers. Why had these people, or rather Estelle, felt the need to drug her? Why did Estelle lie to the cops about the dinner party? What might have happened if Cate hadn’t managed to barricade the door last night? And where was her sister? Where was Margaret?
Chapter 14
La Cabeza National Monument, “Cabeza Rock” to the locals, cast an ominous shadow across the valley in the late afternoon sun as Bronnie’s vintage silver Volvo made its way down the mountain from Copperton.
Since leaving the hospital, Cate had been working on a list of questions, and now Bronnie was in the hot seat.
“So, how did you get my phone number?”
Bronnie threw her a quick glance, then resumed her focus on the sharp mountain curves.
“Margie gave it to me for safekeeping. Said you’d called from somewhere in the Midwest a couple of years back, asking for money to fix your vehicle. She hadn’t been up to returning your phone call but then felt guilty and turned to me for help in wiring you the money — to that Catify email account. She … she felt bad she didn’t talk to you back then, but she was going through a … complicated time here at the ranch.”
Cate had more to ask, but “Okay,” was all her throbbing head could muster. The nine hundred dollars had been both a shock and a lifesaver. It had gotten her back on the road after her truck’s engine crapped out in Nebraska.
Why had no one come looking for her? Unlike more recently, Cate had been highly traceable during her first year in New York. Margaret could have found her via their mother’s friend, Brenden, who owned the bistro where she’d found work. Their mother had mentioned Brenden and his bistro numerous times at the dinner table. Her sister could have reached out to him if only to make sure Cate was still alive.
“I should have called her when the payment came through, but then I hit a wall trying to get gigs when I got to LA. I guess … I put off talking to her until things got better.”
An uncomfortable silence followed until Cate resumed her list of questions.
“How did Margaret and Estelle become partners?” Because it was clear that was what they were. Cate just didn’t know how far the partnership went.
The woman next to Cate was visibly struggling now.
“They, uh, knew each other as girls.” Another pause as Bronnie suddenly braked for a small herd of deer that sprinted nimbly across the road. “When Estelle arrived at the ranch five years ago, something shifted in Margie’s mindset. Estelle seemed to undermine her mentally and physically, to the point she stopped socializing and even quit riding for a while. It was weird. Margie’s always been strong, rarely backing down from anyone, even … even Doc when he was alive. I don’t know … the accident could have taken a greater toll than we thought.”
“Wait, what accident? You don’t mean our parents’ plane crash — ?”
“No, about ten years back when she got tossed off a colt. Concussion, fractured ribs … some disc trauma. Compressed nerves in her lower spine. She was on an oxy regime for a while. I … I wrote her a script myself. It was all we knew to do at the time.”
Cate winced at the reference to oxycontin. Once upon a time, she’d been more than acquainted with the drug herself.
“Her back pain — it was substantial. She had to stop competing and that made her miserable. She gained weight — about thirty extra pounds. Then she went in a new direction, boarding horses and taking on some students. That’s when she brought on Liliana Ruiz to help her. Leelee was fourteen but already had all that height. Having someone young to mentor was just what Margaret needed. Perked her up a bit.”
They had passed the road to Finley Ranch and were now traveling down the dirt road that ran parallel to the highway. Bronnie turned at a whimsical - looking sign reading, “Loose Cow Lane,” and Cate saw it was taking them to the far side of the hundred-acre cattle pasture. To their right, a herd of Angus clumped together in the dense grove of trees that marked the center of the acreage. The Volvo finally pulled into a tangled yard in which sat a charming gingerbread cottage right out of a fairy tale.
“Wow! This was the mystery house I couldn’t remember when I walked in from the highway the other day. How long have you lived here?”
“About a decade. Margie helped me get into it when the housing market had taken a dip. Reasonably priced, as there’s only about an acre of land. But it works for me and the kitties.”
As if on cue, five felines in various colors ran up to them as they emerged from the car. Bronnie looked sheepish.
“Okay, don’t say it. Little old lady, gingerbread cottage, cats, the tangled yard. I know you’re wondering if the oven’s hot and where I stash my broom.”
Cate laughed in spite of her pounding headache, feeling residual tension melting away.
“Well, maybe if the cats were all black,” she teased. She picked up a calico kitten that had been rubbing against her leg. “Strays?”
“They come and go, thanks to the coyotes. This batch was from a pregnant stray who dumped them on my porch and then said adios. That’s right, we’re poor widdle orrr - phans,” she squeaked in a high-pitched voice, wiggling the paw of the ginger kitten she held.
Cate smiled and looked far across the field toward Drew and Desi Mason’s pink house, the empty Griffin lots, and Diego and Rosa’s cottage by the Finley stables. Way in the distance and halfway up the mountain rise sat the majestic Finley ranch house. From this distance, it was easier to appreciate the unique blending of Santa Fe and mid-1960s architecture, with its high - ceilinged great room and exterior of adobe stucco and exposed logs. Bronnie unlocked and opened the double doors in the patio and turned to gaze across the pasture as well.
“I was glad to be close by to help Margie through her dark times after the accident. Neighbors are … pretty important when you live in the country.”
Cate felt a brief twinge of, what — guilt? In a different life, she would have been the one filling that role. And how strange that her sister’s emotional trouble ten years ago had coincided with her own trauma in New York.
“Neighbors are pretty important in the city, too,” Cate agreed.
Cate had learned the importance of friendly neighbors in the East Village. Hers had been a fellowship of struggling artists who had each other’s backs, sharing their lodging and even their food. Having the right neighbors could take the place of family.
“And, speaking of neighbors, I need to get my backpack from the ranch house.”
“Not tonight,” Bronnie’s voice was soothing as she retrieved a small pack from a pantry shelf. “Here’s an extra toothbrush. Let’s get a good night’s sleep, and then see what’s what in the light of day.”
Cate smiled at her hostess. “What’s what,” indeed. The woman was adorable, but Cate had already hatched a plan to visit the ranch that night under the cover of darkness. She just needed a little food and a quick nap to fix her lingering hangover.
Bronnie cooked a dinner of sautéed chicken and steamed vegetables with clarified butter. After eating, they settled on the couch and swapped fond memories of Doc and Fiona.
“Fiona would have loved seeing the strong woman you’ve become, Cate,” Bronnie murmured, putting a mug of chamomile tea on the end table next to the couch.
Cate’s eyes welled up as her mother’s Irish lilt came back to her, speaking soothing words in her ear. She felt the opposite of strong … overwhelmed. She closed her eyes, just to rest for a bit, and didn’t open them again until morning.
Chapter 15
“What time is it?” She felt like she’d been asleep for two days, probably the effect of the drugs departing her body.
Bronnie was leaning over a pan of fragrant food cooking on the stove and turned to give her a sunny smile.
“Almost six o’clock. I have a shift that starts at seven, so I’m off to the hospital in a few minutes.”
Cate was on her feet and headed for the door, running shoes in hand. Bronnie beat her there.
“Cate, there is nothing in that backpack that isn’t available in this house in some form or other.” Bronnie took a breath and continued more calmly. “Please wait until I can go with you. Estelle’s not … she’s — ”
“She’s a nut job. Is that what you wanted to say?”
Bronnie smiled sadly as she plated their food.
“Yes, but sort of — worse.”
What’s worse than a nutter? Cate wondered.
“Estelle is very … wily, so don’t underestimate her. And Margaret may have put her in charge. Legally, I mean.”
Cate fought the urge to snap a retort, then circled back and flounced onto the couch, feeling oddly petulant. Bronnie went back to her skillet, adding, “Look, it’s your call, but if you do end up going, just be careful.”
They ate outside on the elevated porch, taking in the spectacular view of the pastures, the cottonwood lane, and the four houses lining it, including Desi’s pink two - story. The homemade brown bread and softly scrambled eggs were rapidly disappearing off Cate’s plate.
“You say Margaret put Estelle in charge,” Cate said between bites. “What does that mean?”
“Hm, well, your sister was too proud to admit it outright, but she was terrified of the ranch business failing, so it’s clear she brought in Cousin Estelle to manage the finances. She’s used to, uh, managing real estate.”
Cate had been trying to do the math on all the improvements she’d seen. The original ranch buildings still stood, but that paint job on the stables and the road surface improvements, not to mention the deluxe horse hauling rig at the stable, had most likely cost Margaret a small fortune. Had she mortgaged the ranch?
“Where did the two of them meet? I asked Estelle at our first meeting, but she was vague about it. Man, I want to talk to Margaret so badly right now!” Cate plinked her fork down on the empty plate.
“Cate, can I make an observation? You eat like you haven’t had a meal in a month. What exactly is your situation in California?”
“Me?” She glanced down at the empty plate. “On the high side of homelessness. I mean, I’m not sleeping under freeways or anything, but I’ve … I’ve had some rough patches.”
“Well, I must say, as a medical professional, you look healthy enough, given that kind of lifestyle. Just, you know, hungry.”
Cate leaned back, folded her arms, and fixed Bronnie with a knowing smile.
“Very nice try getting me off topic. When was the last time you saw my sister? Did she mention a trip?”
“I passed her on the lane, as I was coming home, and she was driving out. That was almost two weeks ago. She didn’t slow down or stop, just waved like she’d be right back.”
“What was she driving?”
“That monster truck she pulls with. When she didn’t show up at our usual Friday lunch date, Estelle said she had left with her clients on Thursday. But it isn’t like Margaret to leave town without letting me know.”
Cate nodded.
“Since I got here, Estelle’s been telling me Margaret is headed back from Albuquerque, that she’s been out buying more horses for the ranch. How does that jibe with her worrying over finances?”
“Well, Margie doesn’t buy horses for herself anymore. Just for clients.”
“Okay, that makes more sense. So, a client took her along just to check out horses? Maybe that’s why the hauling rig is currently parked at the stable. By the way, I looked inside, and it gives new meaning to the term ‘trailer trash.’ Looks like it hasn’t been in use for a while and a human pack rat has moved in.”
Bronnie picked up both plates and stood up. Cate wanted to keep the conversation going, now that she was getting answers.
“According to Estelle, Margaret’s been headed home for a couple of days now,” Cate rattled on, following her host into the tiny kitchen. “I left a message on her phone yesterday, and it’s weird she wouldn’t be curious enough to even return the call.”
Bronnie stopped midway to the sink and turned to Cate, her face suddenly anxious, her voice quavering.
“I think we can assume that Margaret isn’t returning from New Mexico. In fact, let’s assume nothing Estelle has told you in the last few days is true. Nothing.” Tears were welling in the woman’s eyes, and Cate realized they’d been there all along.
“Well, I have some questions here.” He checked a list on his small clipboard. “Where did you get the drugs that you took?”
Aware she was talking to an officer, Cate bit back her anger and spoke carefully and civilly.
“Well, Deputy Gomez, I didn’t take any drugs. I ate food. And had some champagne.” He looked up from writing. “One full flute and a couple of sips from the second glass. What’s that, about six ounces, maybe?”
He went back to writing while the artist in her instinctively took in his features. The arched black eyebrows and aquiline nose, the hard lines along the jaw, and ironic tilt to his mouth. It was a handsome, lived-in face of someone familiar with pain, who hadn’t yet lost his sense of humor. In a different setting, she might have talked him into holding still for a pencil sketch.
Noticing her intense stare, he made his next query.
“What is your permanent address?”
Another difficult question. “Hmm, that’s hard to say. Can you just put that I’m in between residences and staying with friends in Los Angeles?”
“Their address?”
“And I don’t know that from memory. Have to … check my phone. It’s in my backpack. Did that make the trip to the hospital?” Or was it now in Estelle’s clutches at the house?
The deputy scanned the room before replying, “I’ll ask the nurse. Let’s keep going. What was your business at the Finley Ranch?”
“Besides the fact that I’m, you know, a Finley? I got a text that my sister Margaret was missing. Did you guys get a missing person’s report on her … maybe from a Bronnie Taylor?”
For the first time, Gomez looked truly interested.
“The Bronnie Taylor that works here as a nurse?”
“Yeah … ?”
Cate waited for him to say that Bronnie was a clueless hack who constantly nagged their office with UFO sightings, but Gomez simply returned to his notes.
“Sorry, go on, please.”
“Well, when I arrived here a couple of days ago, I was greeted by a ‘cousin’ named Estelle Parker. Tall gal. Told me Margaret was on a trip and was returning Sunday night — last night, correct? Maybe you could ask Estelle whether my sister actually came home?”
“Hm, I will check on it when I get back to the office.” He wrote a note and then looked up at her. A moment went by.
“You think someone drugged you at a dinner party at Finley Ranch? Who was there? Can you give me their names?”
“I just caught their first names. Um, Randy and Dirk. They were, uh, realtors. Gave me their cards. Then there was Hugh — Hugo … spoke with a British accent. Didn’t catch a last name but he was — is — a nephew of old Sheriff Griffin. There was a slideshow of Finley Ranch being developed into … uh, Cabeza Rock Estates.” She paused to take a breath. Well, that part had come back pretty easily.
In fact, over the past hour, much of the evening had come back to Cate. Right up to that crawl up the back stairs to her room. Gomez pulled a sheet of notes from the clipboard.
“Yeah, here is Estelle Parker’s account of the evening. She had a business meeting with her associates, and then they left. The two of you had a quiet dinner. Champagne was poured, she wasn’t sure how much because she went to bed at some point and left you still drinking — ”
“Wait, that’s not — ” Cate tried to interject, her heart pounding in her ears. She felt Gomez studying her and let him go on.
“Um,” he searched for his place, “the next thing she knew, some hours later, a lit-up ambulance was in the driveway. She said that you had seemed depressed, had talked about poor choices you’d made in your life, financial problems, and a bad breakup. She said she had no idea you were — in her words — ‘so fragile’ or she wouldn’t have left you alone.”
For a moment, Cate just stared at him. I am Alice through the looking glass, she thought, and the Red Queen wants my head. Again, she felt trapped in the room, tethered to beeping machines. She had the urge to yank herself free of the tubes and run away.
“Okay, okay — that?” she gestured to the deputy’s report with her free arm. “That’s all a load of bullshit!” Cate rolled her head to loosen the tension that was quickly seizing up her neck. “Go ask those realtors … Ask Rosa Ruiz — she cooked for us. There was … a barbecue caterer there from town, Copperton … Carlos? Charlie? There were six of us at the table, for God’s sake.”
Looking flustered, the deputy tried to calm her as a nurse entered, summoned by the beeping alarms on the monitors.
“Well, that’s quite a different story. How do I talk with Rosa … Ruiz, is it?”
“The Ruizes live on the property. Right before you get to the ranch entrance. Go left toward the stables and you’ll see a little red clapboard house — same trim as the stable. You can’t miss it. Diego has worked for my family forever. I know Rosa will back me up.”
“Okay. You said there were four men — who was the fourth?”
“Gabe somebody. Not from around here. Sounded like he might be from New York.” That was a hunch on her part. “Maybe a lawyer?” Another hunch.
After Gomez left and Cate was alone again, she leaned back on the bed trying to figure out her next step. Because wasn’t that what heroines in adventure stories did? Alice and the rest of them? In truth, what she wanted was a bus ticket back to LA. What she wanted was for her sister to materialize and fix this mess because, from all appearances, it was Margaret’s mess, not hers. Why had these people, or rather Estelle, felt the need to drug her? Why did Estelle lie to the cops about the dinner party? What might have happened if Cate hadn’t managed to barricade the door last night? And where was her sister? Where was Margaret?
Chapter 14
La Cabeza National Monument, “Cabeza Rock” to the locals, cast an ominous shadow across the valley in the late afternoon sun as Bronnie’s vintage silver Volvo made its way down the mountain from Copperton.
Since leaving the hospital, Cate had been working on a list of questions, and now Bronnie was in the hot seat.
“So, how did you get my phone number?”
Bronnie threw her a quick glance, then resumed her focus on the sharp mountain curves.
“Margie gave it to me for safekeeping. Said you’d called from somewhere in the Midwest a couple of years back, asking for money to fix your vehicle. She hadn’t been up to returning your phone call but then felt guilty and turned to me for help in wiring you the money — to that Catify email account. She … she felt bad she didn’t talk to you back then, but she was going through a … complicated time here at the ranch.”
Cate had more to ask, but “Okay,” was all her throbbing head could muster. The nine hundred dollars had been both a shock and a lifesaver. It had gotten her back on the road after her truck’s engine crapped out in Nebraska.
Why had no one come looking for her? Unlike more recently, Cate had been highly traceable during her first year in New York. Margaret could have found her via their mother’s friend, Brenden, who owned the bistro where she’d found work. Their mother had mentioned Brenden and his bistro numerous times at the dinner table. Her sister could have reached out to him if only to make sure Cate was still alive.
“I should have called her when the payment came through, but then I hit a wall trying to get gigs when I got to LA. I guess … I put off talking to her until things got better.”
An uncomfortable silence followed until Cate resumed her list of questions.
“How did Margaret and Estelle become partners?” Because it was clear that was what they were. Cate just didn’t know how far the partnership went.
The woman next to Cate was visibly struggling now.
“They, uh, knew each other as girls.” Another pause as Bronnie suddenly braked for a small herd of deer that sprinted nimbly across the road. “When Estelle arrived at the ranch five years ago, something shifted in Margie’s mindset. Estelle seemed to undermine her mentally and physically, to the point she stopped socializing and even quit riding for a while. It was weird. Margie’s always been strong, rarely backing down from anyone, even … even Doc when he was alive. I don’t know … the accident could have taken a greater toll than we thought.”
“Wait, what accident? You don’t mean our parents’ plane crash — ?”
“No, about ten years back when she got tossed off a colt. Concussion, fractured ribs … some disc trauma. Compressed nerves in her lower spine. She was on an oxy regime for a while. I … I wrote her a script myself. It was all we knew to do at the time.”
Cate winced at the reference to oxycontin. Once upon a time, she’d been more than acquainted with the drug herself.
“Her back pain — it was substantial. She had to stop competing and that made her miserable. She gained weight — about thirty extra pounds. Then she went in a new direction, boarding horses and taking on some students. That’s when she brought on Liliana Ruiz to help her. Leelee was fourteen but already had all that height. Having someone young to mentor was just what Margaret needed. Perked her up a bit.”
They had passed the road to Finley Ranch and were now traveling down the dirt road that ran parallel to the highway. Bronnie turned at a whimsical - looking sign reading, “Loose Cow Lane,” and Cate saw it was taking them to the far side of the hundred-acre cattle pasture. To their right, a herd of Angus clumped together in the dense grove of trees that marked the center of the acreage. The Volvo finally pulled into a tangled yard in which sat a charming gingerbread cottage right out of a fairy tale.
“Wow! This was the mystery house I couldn’t remember when I walked in from the highway the other day. How long have you lived here?”
“About a decade. Margie helped me get into it when the housing market had taken a dip. Reasonably priced, as there’s only about an acre of land. But it works for me and the kitties.”
As if on cue, five felines in various colors ran up to them as they emerged from the car. Bronnie looked sheepish.
“Okay, don’t say it. Little old lady, gingerbread cottage, cats, the tangled yard. I know you’re wondering if the oven’s hot and where I stash my broom.”
Cate laughed in spite of her pounding headache, feeling residual tension melting away.
“Well, maybe if the cats were all black,” she teased. She picked up a calico kitten that had been rubbing against her leg. “Strays?”
“They come and go, thanks to the coyotes. This batch was from a pregnant stray who dumped them on my porch and then said adios. That’s right, we’re poor widdle orrr - phans,” she squeaked in a high-pitched voice, wiggling the paw of the ginger kitten she held.
Cate smiled and looked far across the field toward Drew and Desi Mason’s pink house, the empty Griffin lots, and Diego and Rosa’s cottage by the Finley stables. Way in the distance and halfway up the mountain rise sat the majestic Finley ranch house. From this distance, it was easier to appreciate the unique blending of Santa Fe and mid-1960s architecture, with its high - ceilinged great room and exterior of adobe stucco and exposed logs. Bronnie unlocked and opened the double doors in the patio and turned to gaze across the pasture as well.
“I was glad to be close by to help Margie through her dark times after the accident. Neighbors are … pretty important when you live in the country.”
Cate felt a brief twinge of, what — guilt? In a different life, she would have been the one filling that role. And how strange that her sister’s emotional trouble ten years ago had coincided with her own trauma in New York.
“Neighbors are pretty important in the city, too,” Cate agreed.
Cate had learned the importance of friendly neighbors in the East Village. Hers had been a fellowship of struggling artists who had each other’s backs, sharing their lodging and even their food. Having the right neighbors could take the place of family.
“And, speaking of neighbors, I need to get my backpack from the ranch house.”
“Not tonight,” Bronnie’s voice was soothing as she retrieved a small pack from a pantry shelf. “Here’s an extra toothbrush. Let’s get a good night’s sleep, and then see what’s what in the light of day.”
Cate smiled at her hostess. “What’s what,” indeed. The woman was adorable, but Cate had already hatched a plan to visit the ranch that night under the cover of darkness. She just needed a little food and a quick nap to fix her lingering hangover.
Bronnie cooked a dinner of sautéed chicken and steamed vegetables with clarified butter. After eating, they settled on the couch and swapped fond memories of Doc and Fiona.
“Fiona would have loved seeing the strong woman you’ve become, Cate,” Bronnie murmured, putting a mug of chamomile tea on the end table next to the couch.
Cate’s eyes welled up as her mother’s Irish lilt came back to her, speaking soothing words in her ear. She felt the opposite of strong … overwhelmed. She closed her eyes, just to rest for a bit, and didn’t open them again until morning.
Chapter 15
“What time is it?” She felt like she’d been asleep for two days, probably the effect of the drugs departing her body.
Bronnie was leaning over a pan of fragrant food cooking on the stove and turned to give her a sunny smile.
“Almost six o’clock. I have a shift that starts at seven, so I’m off to the hospital in a few minutes.”
Cate was on her feet and headed for the door, running shoes in hand. Bronnie beat her there.
“Cate, there is nothing in that backpack that isn’t available in this house in some form or other.” Bronnie took a breath and continued more calmly. “Please wait until I can go with you. Estelle’s not … she’s — ”
“She’s a nut job. Is that what you wanted to say?”
Bronnie smiled sadly as she plated their food.
“Yes, but sort of — worse.”
What’s worse than a nutter? Cate wondered.
“Estelle is very … wily, so don’t underestimate her. And Margaret may have put her in charge. Legally, I mean.”
Cate fought the urge to snap a retort, then circled back and flounced onto the couch, feeling oddly petulant. Bronnie went back to her skillet, adding, “Look, it’s your call, but if you do end up going, just be careful.”
They ate outside on the elevated porch, taking in the spectacular view of the pastures, the cottonwood lane, and the four houses lining it, including Desi’s pink two - story. The homemade brown bread and softly scrambled eggs were rapidly disappearing off Cate’s plate.
“You say Margaret put Estelle in charge,” Cate said between bites. “What does that mean?”
“Hm, well, your sister was too proud to admit it outright, but she was terrified of the ranch business failing, so it’s clear she brought in Cousin Estelle to manage the finances. She’s used to, uh, managing real estate.”
Cate had been trying to do the math on all the improvements she’d seen. The original ranch buildings still stood, but that paint job on the stables and the road surface improvements, not to mention the deluxe horse hauling rig at the stable, had most likely cost Margaret a small fortune. Had she mortgaged the ranch?
“Where did the two of them meet? I asked Estelle at our first meeting, but she was vague about it. Man, I want to talk to Margaret so badly right now!” Cate plinked her fork down on the empty plate.
“Cate, can I make an observation? You eat like you haven’t had a meal in a month. What exactly is your situation in California?”
“Me?” She glanced down at the empty plate. “On the high side of homelessness. I mean, I’m not sleeping under freeways or anything, but I’ve … I’ve had some rough patches.”
“Well, I must say, as a medical professional, you look healthy enough, given that kind of lifestyle. Just, you know, hungry.”
Cate leaned back, folded her arms, and fixed Bronnie with a knowing smile.
“Very nice try getting me off topic. When was the last time you saw my sister? Did she mention a trip?”
“I passed her on the lane, as I was coming home, and she was driving out. That was almost two weeks ago. She didn’t slow down or stop, just waved like she’d be right back.”
“What was she driving?”
“That monster truck she pulls with. When she didn’t show up at our usual Friday lunch date, Estelle said she had left with her clients on Thursday. But it isn’t like Margaret to leave town without letting me know.”
Cate nodded.
“Since I got here, Estelle’s been telling me Margaret is headed back from Albuquerque, that she’s been out buying more horses for the ranch. How does that jibe with her worrying over finances?”
“Well, Margie doesn’t buy horses for herself anymore. Just for clients.”
“Okay, that makes more sense. So, a client took her along just to check out horses? Maybe that’s why the hauling rig is currently parked at the stable. By the way, I looked inside, and it gives new meaning to the term ‘trailer trash.’ Looks like it hasn’t been in use for a while and a human pack rat has moved in.”
Bronnie picked up both plates and stood up. Cate wanted to keep the conversation going, now that she was getting answers.
“According to Estelle, Margaret’s been headed home for a couple of days now,” Cate rattled on, following her host into the tiny kitchen. “I left a message on her phone yesterday, and it’s weird she wouldn’t be curious enough to even return the call.”
Bronnie stopped midway to the sink and turned to Cate, her face suddenly anxious, her voice quavering.
“I think we can assume that Margaret isn’t returning from New Mexico. In fact, let’s assume nothing Estelle has told you in the last few days is true. Nothing.” Tears were welling in the woman’s eyes, and Cate realized they’d been there all along.
