Part 6 (1/2)

None of this rea.s.sured me. As always, he was coldly remote, disapproving of my presence. But at least Persis Morgan had reconsidered to some extent.

”I don't know,” I said. ”Have you mentioned Hillary Lange to her?”

”Yes, naturally. Mr. Lange is to stay at the Timberline for now. That didn't upset her as much as I thought it might. Your dog is to come upstairs with you tomorrow morning when you next visit your grandmother. She's always had dogs herself until lately-outdoor dogs. Now that she no longer rides and can't be out with them, she has never replaced the last one that died.” His words still seemed to be repeated by rote, and I wondered what he was really thinking.

Si I had drunk very little and was ready to set my gla.s.s aside when Edna summoned us to the dining room.

”We follow what used to be the custom when this was a working ranch,” Gail said, ”and have our main meal at noon. This is merely a light supper.”

The long table, set with linen and heavy silver, had a formal look, even for supper. More tradition, undoubtedly. Draperies had been pulled across the windows, closing the room in with a heavy dark green that seemed oppressive. My chair felt stiff behind me, and the gla.s.s e} es of the ell” watched in disapproval from over the mantel. I had a feeling rhat he had taken a special dislike to me.

Cold ham, hot creamed potatoes, pickled beets and eggs, cuc.u.mber and tomato salad, were all appetizing, but I was no longer hungry.

The terrible word that Gail had planted in my mind still chilled me, and the questions I wanted only to suppress were flowing in. Who had been murdered, and by whom? Was this the terrible thing that I had witnessed and that had so shocked me that I'd had to suppress it ever since? I had the feeling that at any moment something would trigger full memory and disaster would fall on my head.

Well, let it! I told myself. Let it come/-and was not cornforted.

Conversation between Gail and Caleb held off the silence, though neither was particularly cordial to the other. Perhaps by this effort they at least closed ranks against me, and that might be their chief purpose.

There was one person, however, whom I wanted to know more about, and when an opening came I asked about Jnn Maddocks. ”He doesn't seem to fit his role as ranch hand,” I said. ”Though I'm not sure why I feel that vay ”

”You'd better not tell him that,” Gail said. ”He fits it all 82.right. A ranch hand is all he wants to be. He's made his choice.”

”Oh, come now,” Caleb chided. ”You know Mrs. Morgan regards him as one of the family.”

”Because he gets around her. He always has. Have you been talking to him, Laurie?”

I told them about hearing his guitar and going out to the barn, looking for Red. But I was careful to say nothing about Jon's warning to me against those in this house, or of the fact that I'd remembered him from my childhood.

”Who is he?” I asked idly. ”Where does he come from?”

Caleb answered me. ”His grandfather worked for Malcolm Tremayne and Tyler Morgan in the mine on Old Desolate. Later on his father worked on Mrs. Morgan's ranch and married a Spanish girl from Mexico City.”

So that explained the look about Jon Maddocks that was not altogether Cornwall-that dark, romantic look.

”His parents died when he was young,” Caleb went on. ”Mrs. Morgan helped him, sent him to an engineering college in Michigan. When he got out of school he worked in the East for a few years. For a big oil company. Then he threw it all over and came back to Colorado.”

”Why? Why did he come back?”

Caleb shook his head. ”Who knows? He's not especially communicative. A lack of ambition, I suppose.”

”Except with Mrs. Morgan,” Gail put in. ”He seems to know how to b.u.t.ter his bread there. I suppose he's looking for something in her will.”

I bit back my resentment of her words. She didn't know Jon ... but did I?

”Is she that close to death?” I asked. ”That everyone seems to be-waiting?”

They both looked at me as though they disliked what they saw.

”May I remind you,” Caleb said, ”that I have been Mrs. Morgan's trusted friend for most of my life, as my father was before me. This isn't a gathering of vultures. Your grandmother is our great concern.”

”And I've been told that her will was made years ago,” Gail added, her tone light and faintly amused at my hint of suspicion. ”Nothing anyone does or doesn't do is going to matter very much now. She's too weak and in no proper mind to make changes.”

”I wonder if that's true,” I said boldly. ”I thought her very alert mentally.”

Gail nodded. ”Of course your coming would furnish a certain stimulation, but don't count on its lasting.”

”I'm afraid that's true,” Caleb said.

I wanted to listen to no more. There was just one thing to do. I would talk to Hillary at once and see what he could make of what seemed to be happening in this house.

The meal was over. I would walk to the Timberline, I told Caleb as I left the table.

”I'll drive you there in the jeep,” he offered, but I shook my head.

”I'd rather walk. I've been sitting since morning.”

I left the table and went upstairs for a jacket, but when I came down Caleb was waiting for me with a flashlight.

”It will be dark and the going is rough. If you must walk, I'll go with you. Then perhaps your friend Lange will bring you back.”

I had to accept, and we left the house together. By the moment I was growing more eager to see Hillary, to talk with him. He would get me through. He would understand and never condemn me, as other were so ready to do, and he would back me in solving the puzzles that still resisted me. I was trying my best to rea.s.sure myself.

Outside, the night seemed intensely dark, the crowding mountains only ma.s.sive shapes above us. Far up on my left as we walked into Jasper, the ruins of mine structures stood black against a lighter sky. Here in the mountains the stars were closer, more visible than I'd ever seen before.

Since the board sidewalks were broken in places, except where repairs were being made, we walked in the street. Activity had ceased as workmen went off to their temporary shelters or invaded the Timberline bar. The hotel lights were our beacon, and Caleb saw me to the porch steps.

”I'll leave you here. Phone if you want me to take you home.”

I thanked him and went into the bright lobby that I'd visited earlier that day. Belle Durant was not behind the desk, but there was a bell I could tap for a.s.sistance if I wished. First, however, I walked about the lobby, looking into the now wellpopulated bar, moving on to the empty dining room, where only a few tables had been set. It was a large room, darkened by rich walnut paneling, with two impressive chandeliers down its length. Heavy red velour draperies framed long windows, and a dark red carpet to match covered the floor. I imagined the room as it could be-glittering and luxurious, with linen and silver s.h.i.+ning for the tourists to come, and perhaps flowers on every table.

Just as I turned from the door, a deep voice spoke behind me. ”You're Mrs. Morgan's granddaughter.”

It was a statement, not a question, and I swung about to face a man who was large and decidedly magnificent. Probably in his sixties, and dressed rather impressively in gray, from doeskin jacket to well-cut cord trousers. A gray that matched thick pewter hair and eyes that were almost the same color. He wore a Bill Cody mustache and goatee that were picturesque in themselves, and his skin had a ruddy, well-tanned look, with lines raying out from the corners of his eyes. I had no doubt at I.

I.

5.

all that this was the Mark Ingram who was besieging my grandmother's castle.

”Yes, I'm Laurie Morgan,” I said.

He nodded, and I thought, This is what a poker face is like. He was a man who would give little away, and his manner neither welcomed nor rejected me, though his strange, almost colorless eyes were alert and watchful, stud} ing m face intently as he spoke.

”I'm Mark Ingram. Welcome to Jasper, Miss Morgan. May I offer you something to drink? I think v,e ought to get acquainted.”

I didn't want that until I knew more about where this easy familiarity would lead. ”No, thank you I'm here only to find Mr. Lange.”

”Your friend went for a walk. At least you can sit down foi a few moments here in the lobby, so we can talk.”