The Mystery in Arizona by Campbell Julie

Author:Campbell, Julie [Campbell, Julie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

"Madhouse!” • 12

THE POOL, like everything else in Arizona, was enormous, and the water in it seemed to reflect the bright blue of the cloudless sky. Around the edge of it were groups of chairs and tables which were painted in colors to match those in a desert sunset, and everything gleamed in the dazzling sunlight.

But, to Trixie’s surprise, there were hardly any people there at a time of the day when it was really quite hot. Some of the guests, she knew, were riding with the first group; others were getting dressed to go with the second group. The tennis and squash courts were all occupied, and several men and women were playing golf. But, even so, a lot of guests were unaccounted for.

“Guess they’re still taking siestas,” Trixie decided, “so they'll be wide-awake at the fiesta this evening. But how anyone over six can take naps in the daytime is beyond me.”

The word naps reminded her of Bobby and then of Petey, and she began to wonder who Tio was. As though in answer to her question, she spied a Spanish-English dictionary which someone had left on the sand under a large multicolored beach umbrella. Maybe “Tio” was a real Spanish word and not just someone’s name, as she had been thinking. Trixie promptly decided to look it up. She soon found it and the definition: “Uncle. Man (denoting contempt). Good old man.”

“That’s a big help,” she said to herself. “Was Petey talking about an uncle or a man he despises or a kind old gentleman?”

The strange Mexican who had argued so loudly with the Orlandos the night they left didn’t sound much like a good old man. The second definition seemed to fit him best, except that if you were afraid of someone, you didn’t describe him with a word denoting contempt.

“I give up,” she muttered and wandered on to the edge of the pool. She tested the water with her toes, decided it was just right, and dived in to swim the length.

When she emerged, dripping but cool and refreshed, at the other end, she discovered that Uncle Monty and Mrs. Sherman were sitting together under an umbrella. Stretched out on a red chaise lounge a few yards away was “Calamity” Jane Brown. And seated in a folding canvas deck chair was a plump, middle-aged man with sparse gray hair who Trixie guessed must be Mr. Wellington.

She had never seen Mrs. Sherman before, but she was sure that there couldn’t be two guests at the ranch who looked so silly in a cowboy costume.

Just then the woman raised her voice, and Trixie heard her say, “I’m telling you, Mr. Wilson, the situation has become intolerable. I paid in advance for service, and I’m not getting any. The Orlandos were all excellent. If you can’t replace them, you shouldn’t have let them go.”

Uncle Monty looked unhappy, but he said mildly, “I didn’t; they just went, Mrs. Sherman. I consider myself fortunate that my niece’s young friends, who came out here to be my guests, have—”

“That’s the point,” Mrs.

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