High Desert Detective, A Fiona Marlowe Mystery (Fiona Marlowe Mysteries) by Thelen Marjorie

Author:Thelen, Marjorie [Thelen, Marjorie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-07-24T00:00:00+00:00

* * * * *

Fiona and Olympia ended up at Lauren Brooks’ shop to consult with her on places to live and who was the best realtor in town.

“I think the best realtor is an independent broker I know, who’s lived here forever and knows the valley inside and out.”

“Thanks,” said Fiona. “Does she have an office?”

“She works out of her home. I’d call first because she’s probably out showing places. What are you gals up to? People are still talking about the last time you were in town.”

Was it possible that Olympia was actually blushing, thought Fiona. She could feel her own face turning beet red. “We aren’t that infamous, are we?” she said.

Lauren laughed. “This is a small town, you have to remember.”

“I keep forgetting,” said Fiona. “We thought we’d take in a movie. Any suggestions?”

“There’s only one movie house in town so that should be easy. Better take a warm jacket because the operator keeps it about ten below in there at all times, doesn’t matter the season.” She looked down at their feet. “I wouldn’t wear sandals. There are reports of little critters that scurry across people’s feet.”

“Yuck,” said Olympia. “Critters? Only one theater in town? We better go when we’re properly attired in parkas and snow boots.”

Lauren laughed. “I don’t know what’s more exciting, the movies they have or what happens in the theater.”

Fiona exchanged glances with Olympia. “Maybe another time. We’ll try to keep a low profile while we are here. No drinking with gold miners, you hear, Olympia?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. I’ve turned over a new leaf.”

Back in the Red Bomb Fiona said, “I want to go by the Sheriff’s office and see if Hoover is there.”

The office and county jail were only a mile down the road and up on the promontory that gave Rocky Point its name.

Fiona pulled into a slanted parking place in front of a two-story brick building painted a distressing shade of pink. “That is not a very manly color for a jail,” she said.

“Maybe it’s a jail for women only,” said Olympia. “I’m excited to see the new love of my life.”

They walked into a tiny waiting area. A woman sat behind a glass partition. “May I help you, gals?”

“We’re looking for Sheriff Hoover,” said Fiona.

“I don’t think he’s here. Let me check. He was called out a little bit ago.”

The woman left her station and walked into a back room. A deputy, the one who was at the hot springs the day of the accident, came out to meet them.

“The Sheriff isn’t here at the moment,” said Deputy Nathan Brown. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“I wanted to show Sheriff Hoover a photo of an old gun I found at the site where the bunkhouse burned on Opal Crawford’s place. I found it and didn’t move it and when we went back to see it when Sheriff Hoover came, it wasn’t there. But I found it on the couch of the new bunkhouse. Let me show you.

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