And she was daydreaming about sex....
She walked toward Heidi, who was watering her bay. “Heidi, can I leave Kanga here? I’ll be back in an hour or so, then I’ll ride her over to Sloan’s.”
“Sure. She’ll be fine here,” Heidi said.
“Thanks.”
She left Heidi and walked across the street. The door to the theater was open, although it was still early. When she went in, she found Valerie Mystro behind the bar making herself a cup of coffee at the espresso machine.
“Hey!” Valerie said, turning around and hurrying to the bar when she saw Jane. “I heard someone was murdered out in the desert. How horrible! I don’t think I ever met the man, but I heard that he was here in town. That’s so scary—almost as scary as finding the skull.”
“How do you know all of this already? I just got back with Heidi.”
“Oh, well, this is a small town, remember? I was across the street at the saloon earlier, having lunch with Alice and Brian. And the people who’d been on the ride came in and told us about the weird mummified man they’d seen. And then Terence came in because they were closing the stables for the rest of the day. And Chet—Sloan’s deputy—had just been at the stables to get the information on the dead man. Seriously, Jane, this is a small town. If you sneeze, everyone knows about it.”
“I see.”
“It’s so strange! I’m from Philadelphia. There’s something going on there all the time. But when you’re in a small place like this, well—it’s different. And this is scary. Of course, in a way, the whole place is scary.” She glanced around and lowered her voice. “I don’t know how you can stay in that room upstairs!”
“It’s a nice room.” She smiled. “I like staying there. In fact, I want to.”
“But it’s haunted. I know that for a fact.”
“Oh?”
Valerie nodded with assurance. “I actually think Henri put you in there on purpose.”
“Because he hoped he’d scare me?”
“I guess you don’t scare easily, do you?” Valerie asked her. “But you should be scared.”
“Why? What has this ghost done?”
Valerie was shocked. Her pretty face wrinkled in confusion. “Done? Well, it’s a ghost, for one. But I tell you, people have run out of that room. They say Sage McCormick shows up in the middle of the night, looking at them. They wake up—and there she is, watching them sleep.”
“She’s never hurt anyone, has she?”
“Well...I’m sure she has. Indirectly. She makes them nervous wrecks and then they trip and fall and... People are weird! Some come here because they want to see her, but she scared the producer of a ghost show right out of here. And over at the Old Jail, Trey Hardy is still there, you know. He moves people’s things around. And he just plain scares them, too!”
“But you’re not afraid to stay at the theater?”
“No one died in my room or became overly attached to it.” Valerie’s eyes widened. “This is horrible timing. Silverfest is next weekend. The money it brings in helps keep the town going for the whole year.”
“What happens at Silverfest?”
“Everyone dresses up in old frontier wear. We have a horse parade down Main Street, we perform all day and night as our characters. All the kids in town and half the adults dress up, too. And down by Sloan’s property there’s a rodeo. Oh, and we have a shoot-out on Main Street. It’s fun, and brings in a ton of money.” She paused. “Too bad it isn’t Goldfest, but it’s not, it’s Silverfest. They found way more silver than they did gold. And there was the gold heist, so I guess we don’t celebrate gold.”
She suddenly seemed to remember her coffee. “Want some coffee? This machine is great. American, caffe latte, cappuccino and mochaccino!”
“Sure. Actually, I could use something to eat.”
“Oh, that’s right. Sloan came for you so early. We have a refrigerator with sandwich meat, if you want, or I’ll run across the street with you. There’s pizza, there’s the saloon—”
“A sandwich will be fine. I’m going to have to get back to work,” Jane said.
“Let me make it for you. Salami, ham or turkey? And do you like cheese?”
While Valerie rummaged around under the bar, Alice joined them and then so did Brian and Ty, all talking about the two corpses.
A minute later, Henri Coque joined them, as well.
He didn’t want a sandwich; he walked around the bar and poured himself a large Scotch.
“What the hell?” he said, gulping down the shot. “Who’s digging up old corpses—and why? And why shoot a tourist?” He shook his head with disgust, then sighed. “I guess people can be ghoulish. Maybe these corpses will make us more popular this Silverfest. Let us pray!” He lifted his glass to the beautiful nineteenth-century, oval-framed portrait of a woman over the bar. “To you, my love! May we prosper, despite chaos! What is the world coming to here in Lily?”