Tarnished Remains: Shandra Higheagle Mystery #2 Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Deadly Aim

  About the Author

  Tarnished Remains

  By

  Paty Jager

  This is a work of fiction, Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  TARNISHED REMAINS: A Shandra Higheagle Mystery

  Copyright © 2015 Patricia Jager

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or Windtree Press except in the case of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Windtree Press

  Beaverton, Oregon

  Visit us at http://windtreepress.com

  Cover Art by Christina Keerins

  Published in the United States of America

  ISBN 9781940064956

  This book is dedicated to my mom, Regina Norman, for understanding my love of reading and ordering the whole Nancy Drew set of mysteries for me to read as a child. She started my love of mystery books. I wish you could see where my love of reading has led me.

  Chapter One

  Shandra Higheagle leaned on the shovel handle, staring into the pine forest to her right. She loved her excursions up Huckleberry Mountain to collect clay. She’d purchased this land two years ago for this pocket of clay. The yellowish mud, when cleaned and purified, enhanced her art. Using Mother Nature’s bounty to make her inspirations come to life enriched the overall appearance and authenticity of her work. That she used natural clay and formed pottery as her ancestors once had, made her pieces unique and sought after.

  Enough musing and wasting time. She raised the shovel, sunk the metal blade into the ground six inches, and pulled out a shovel full of yellow clay. The packed soil held enough moisture to cling to the shovel. She knocked the blade against the top of the bucket, dropping the clay in. A good shove with her foot set the spade into the ground for another scoop. The metal grated on something hard; possibly a rock. She’d hit a few while digging clay in this pocket.

  Wiggling the shovel, she shoved again and pulled up another chunk of clay. Her artistic imagination saw a chunk on the side that resembled the shape of a cowboy boot heel. Shandra chuckled at her imagination and knocked the shovel against her plastic bucket. The chunk broke apart and a boot heel fell to the outside of the bucket.

  Shandra eased down onto her knees beside the bucket. Using her trowel, she broke up the rest of the chunk. Nothing.

  Perhaps someone—years ago—while riding or hiking up here lost a boot heel.

  She stood, picked up the shovel, and sunk the blade into the ground not far from the last scoop.

  Instead of the usual high pitched zing of the metal slicing through the soil, there was the sound of a stick breaking. She shoved the blade farther with her booted foot. Another crunch, and she shoved down on the handle, freeing a section of clay larger than her usual scoopful.

  Tingles raced up her spine at the sight of something white sticking out of the clay. She lifted and tipped the shovel, dumping the clod on the ground.

  Her dead Nez Perce grandmother’s face flashed through her mind.

  “Ella, what have I stumbled onto?” Shandra asked her grandmother.

  She picked up her trowel and knelt beside the chunk of clay. Slow, small cuts with the trowel soon revealed she’d dug up a leather cowboy boot with intricate detailing and the foot it encased.

  She’d made a thorough search of all the Native American burial grounds before purchasing this ranch on Huckleberry Mountain. There wasn’t any record of an Indian burial ground on the property. She’d made certain. With that information, and seeing the detail on the boot, she was pretty sure this wasn’t an Indian.

  Reaching into her back pocket, Shandra slid her cell phone out. One faint bar of coverage up here.

  Nine-one-one or Detective Ryan Greer?

  Admitting to herself she wouldn’t mind seeing the detective again, she punched in his number. They’d met a month ago when she’d been a suspect in a gallery owner’s murder. They’d come away from the event friends. She also wasn’t shy to admit, she’d like to explore her friendship with the handsome detective a little more. They’d spent several days after his last case in Huckleberry talking, riding horses, and getting to know more about one another. She hadn’t heard from him in several weeks.

  “Detective Greer.”

  “Ryan, it’s Shandra Higheagle—”

  “Shandra, I’ve been meaning to call you. Work has been dragging me out in the early hours and dropping me into bed close to midnight.”

  She smiled at his boyish need to explain why he hadn’t called. “I’m afraid I’m going to add to your work.”

  “Don’t tell me you found another dead body,” he said in a joking tone.

  “I’m afraid I did.”

  “Where? Are you in danger?” His demeanor went from joking to all business.

  The sound of tires dragging against gravel proved he was out in his SUV somewhere in Weippe County.

  “I’m on my property digging clay. No, I’m not in danger. This person looks to have been here a while.” She gave him all the details.

  “I’ll be there in an hour. Don’t do any more digging.”

  His siren shrilled in the background.

  “Go to the ranch and have Lil bring you up.”

  “Will do.”

  Shandra closed her phone and stared down at the bone and the leather boot. “Who are you and why are you on this mountain?”

  Even though Ryan told her not to dig any more, her curiosity got the better of her. At least she’d read enough about archeological digs and even helped out at one in high school to know to use her hands and go slow to not damage any evidence.

  In the time it would take Ryan to get here, she could have something more than a foot and boot for him to investigate.

  ~*~

  Ryan pulled into Shandra’s ranch, his siren still shrieking and lights flashing. The serene cabin and studio in the middle of the forest made him feel like an interloper. He switched off the lights and siren immediately and then the engine.

  Crazy Lil, Shandra’s hired hand, approached the car with a scowl. “What you scarin’ all the animals for?”

  Ryan stepped out of the vehicle. Crazy Lil’s head came to the middle of his chest. For a small woman she gave off a larger presence. He knew little about the woman other than she worked for Shandra Higheagle and all the locals
called her Crazy Lil—but not her employer.

  He’d met Shandra under the worst of circumstances a month ago when an overzealous newbie tried to arrest her for murder when she was found in the same room as a recently murdered gallery owner.

  His heart picked up pace remembering his first encounter with the intriguing woman and the days they spent together after he solved the case.

  “Wanna wipe that grin off your lips and tell me why you came screaming in here?” Crazy Lil smacked him in his solar plexus, causing air to whoosh between his teeth and lips.

  “There’s no need to hit an officer of the law,” he snapped, rubbing his chest. “Shandra called. Said she found a body and wanted me to come check it out.”

  The woman’s face paled. “A body?”

  “Yes. She said to have you bring me to her. She found it where she collects clay.” Ryan waved to the passenger side of his SUV. “Hop in.”

  Crazy Lil shook her head. “Can’t get there with a vehicle. Have to ride a horse.”

  “How does Shandra bring down the clay?” He knew the woman was tenacious, but he couldn’t see her packing buckets of clay off the mountain.

  “She’s got horses.” Crazy Lil rolled her eyes and turned toward the barn and corrals. “You can ride Oliver.” She whistled.

  One horse trotted to the corral railing and hung his head over. He had some age on him judging from the gray in his red coat and the sway in his back. Ryan might have worked in the big city of Chicago, but he grew up on a ranch forty miles from this mountain. He knew horses, and he knew how to ride.

  “I don’t think that sorrel will make it up the mountain without someone on his back. Let alone carrying me.” He waited for a response from the woman.

  She spun about. “You gonna talk or you gonna help me saddle up the horses?”

  Ryan studied the woman marching into the barn. She was either an ornery, abrupt, no-nonsense person or socially inept. Given what Shandra had said about the woman growing up on the ranch and rarely leaving, he’d go with socially inept.

  He hustled into the barn behind the woman and was relieved to see two younger, spryer geldings in stalls. One was the horse he’d rode when Shandra gave him a tour of her property.

  “Do I get Duke? He and I got along fine the last time I rode him.” He walked to the stall with the bay horse, hanging a wide, white-blazed face over the gate.

  “You might as well, you aren’t riding my horse.” Crazy Lil pointed to a saddle hanging over a stand. “Use that one.”

  Ryan picked up the halter hanging by Duke’s stall and opened the gate. “Hey boy, remember me?”

  Fifteen minutes later, Ryan had Duke tacked up and his gear stowed on the saddle. He threw a leg over his mount and followed Crazy Lil up the side of the mountain. This was his first trek into the mountains for a body. He hoped whatever Shandra had stumbled into didn’t get her caught up in trouble. The woman seemed to be a magnet for murder.

  Chapter Two

  Sheba, her large, black dog with a cowardly-lion’s heart, started woofing and within minutes Shandra heard the creak and jingle of horses approaching. She shoved the loose strands of hair back from her face and stood. She’d managed to uncover another boot and move enough clay to show two leg bones. The body had been here for quite some time. She found it curious that she hadn’t uncovered any information about a missing person in this area.

  Shandra watched her oversized dog bound toward the horses and riders. Ryan called out to the dog, causing the animal to roll onto her back and whimper like a puppy.

  Shandra laughed at the antics of her pony-sized dog.

  Lil and Ryan stopped their horses beside the two she’d brought up. Apple, her appaloosa, who she rode, and Sammy, a gelding, she used to pack the buckets of mud.

  Ryan dismounted and strode toward her. His eyes held hers before skimming down her denim shirt covering a turquoise tank and on down her denim pants and riding boots.

  “Do you always gather this much clay on yourself when collecting?”

  The teasing tone and glint of mischief in his eyes made her smile.

  “Usually, I don’t dig with my hands.” She held up her yellow tinged hands with clay stuck under her short nails.

  “Why were you digging?” He pivoted and found her excavation work. Swinging back around, his gaze wasn’t as welcoming. “I told you not to dig anymore. You could have disturbed evidence.”

  “I didn’t. I was careful. One summer I worked as a lackey at an excavation site not far from my step-father’s ranch. I know not to mess with the bones.”

  A horse snorted and that’s when she noticed Lil still sitting on her horse. The woman’s face was white and her head moved back and forth as if denying something.

  “Lil?” Shandra headed toward the woman and the horse. “Lil?” She reached up, touching the woman’s leg. “Lil, are you okay?”

  “It can’t be,” Lil muttered and swung her horse around, racing off through the trees.

  “That was strange,” Shandra commented, looking back at Ryan.

  “They do call her ‘Crazy’ Lil.” He knelt by the bones she’d uncovered. “Tell me how you found these.”

  Shandra repeated how she’d been digging and pulled up a scoop of clay to discover it was a boot with the bones still inside.

  Ryan nodded. “This has been here a while. There’s no flesh, only bone. In this air-tight, moist environment it would have taken the flesh longer to deteriorate.”

  “Any idea how long ago?” She peered down at the bones she’d uncovered.

  “Nope. I’ll call in someone to exhume the body and get it to the state forensics lab.” He held his phone in the air.

  “You’ll be lucky if you get one bar.”

  “I shouldn’t leave this alone now that it’s been found.” Ryan peered down at the bones.

  “Try my phone, it’s configured with the towers around here.” She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and held it out.

  Ryan accepted her phone. She didn’t appear to want to leave the site any more than he did. He’d wanted to call and ask her out on a date. There were only a couple months left until his brother married Ryan’s ex-girlfriend. He wanted to arrive at the wedding with Shandra on his arm more than he’d wanted to get away from sheep ranching and the small community where he grew up.

  He punched in the number of the Weippe County Sheriff’s Department. “Hi Cathleen. I need to speak to Sheriff Oldham.”

  “You find a date for Conor’s wedding?”

  This personal knowledge and conversation at work was the downside of having a sister who worked at county dispatch. Ryan groaned. “Why is everyone worried about me having a date for the wedding? It’s still a couple months away.”

  “This isn’t your phone you’re calling from.”

  Tapping and clicking sounded through the phone. “Sis, don’t you dare—”

  “Shandra Higheagle is letting you use her phone for business? What’s up? And don’t leave out any of the tiny details.”

  “Nothing is up. Ms. Higheagle found a body on her premises. I’m trying to tell the sheriff.”

  “Why didn’t you say so? I’ll put you right through.”

  Ryan squeezed his eyes closed and slapped his hat against his thigh. Sisters. He had two of the nosiest.

  “Detective Greer, I hear you have a body?” Sheriff Oldham was getting close to retirement, but he loved his job and made sure everyone around him did too.

  “It could just be an accidental death. The body was found buried in clay on Huckleberry Mountain by a citizen. The body appears to have been on the mountain for some time. We’ll need a team to exhume the remains without disturbing evidence.” He shot a glance at Shandra who didn’t appear the least bit ashamed for having uncovered more than a layperson should have.

  “It’ll take some time to get a crew together. How remote is the site?”

  “It’s on private property and requires horses to get to it.” Ryan scanned the area. “T
here’s a slight chance a good chopper pilot could get in.”

  Oldham grunted. “What’s your thoughts on the best way to extract the body?”

  “Bring in a crew on horseback. Once they have it ready to transport call in a chopper to lift it out.” This wasn’t the first time the sheriff had asked his thoughts on a problem. Cathleen had been dropping hints the sheriff thought Ryan would make an excellent replacement when he retired.

  “Do you feel confident in leaving the site to escort the team into it? And where should I have them meet you?” The sheriff was old-school.

  Ryan heard a pen scratching across the ever-present note pad on the sheriff’s desk.

  “Only three of us know about the body. I’ll keep the civilians with me at Shandra Higheagle’s ranch, thirty miles out Base Road. That’s where you can send the team.” Ryan turned to Shandra. “Do you have enough horses to haul everyone up here?”

  She shook her head.

  “They’ll need to bring their own horses.”

  “This could take a few hours,” the sheriff said. “It’ll be close to dark. How far from the ranch is the site?”

  “A good two hours by horseback.” Ryan heard movement in the trees to the right. He stepped in front of Shandra.

  Crazy Lil rode into the opening.

  “Maybe we should wait until morning.” The sheriff’s voice pulled Ryan’s attention back to the phone. “It hasn’t been found before now, I don’t see what another twenty-four hours will matter. Go get a good night’s sleep. I’ll have the crew there at first light.”

  Ryan smiled. It looked like he’d be spending the night at Shandra’s cabin.

  Chapter Three

  Shandra noticed Lil had herself pulled back together as they started back to the ranch. Not so uncharacteristic of the woman, she hadn’t said a word. Didn’t ask questions or even seem the least bit interested in the bones. Lil had her stubborn expression on her face. That meant there wouldn’t be getting any information out of the woman until she decided to open up. Shandra had learned in the two years she’d owned the ranch and had Lil as an employee, not to press the woman for answers when she was looking stormy.