Mystery Along the Colorado: Travel Mysteries, #3

By A. Nation

When Rosetta's uncle dies under mysterious circumstances, her cousin calls her to help the family. Every relative has opportunity and motive. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: A Nation
• Release date: Oct 7, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201416119

A. Nation

I have always enjoyed reading science fiction and mysteries because I am interested in future science and puzzle solving. I write about stories of the future that mimic today's social issues. Issues such as greed, retribution, prejudice, political corruption, and what the future could become are some of the concepts I use to illustrate a moral result.What motivates me? A story I may read in the newspaper, political idiocy, a situation that happened in history, or just anything that I can twist the perspective around. I travel the west with my husband and read about the small towns of the USA as we drive through them.

Book preview

Chapter 1  – Three Days ago

Chapter 2  – Brett

Chapter 3  – Three Days After

Chapter 4  – Meeting the Family

Chapter 5  – Reading the Will

Chapter 6  – Questions

Chapter 7  – Police

Chapter 8  – The Family

Chapter 9  – The Storm

Chapter 10 – Junction

Chapter 11 – Carlene

Chapter 12 – A Death

Chapter 13 – Location

Chapter 14 – Meeting Alfred

Chapter 15 – Alfred

Chapter 16 – All Roads Lead

Chapter 17 – Rosetta’s Decision

Chapter 18 – Arthur

Chapter 19 – Send off

Chapter 20 – Home

About the Author

Acknowldgment/Contacts

Books by A. Nation

Character List

Prologue

Bernard Gantry lived on his wealthy estate in Junction, Colorado. He made his fortune from land sales market trading and his winery. Now at the age most would retire, he spent his days in his large residence with his brother and sister-in-law, Ben and Arlene, his niece, Denise, and his housekeeper, Carleen.

His son, Arthur, and his daughter-in-law, Beth, would stop by during the week to take home a bottle of the Gantry finest and get away from his hardware business.

Ruth Manning, Bernard’s friend, and companion was the only person he could confide about his home and family. She suggested several times they should marry and enjoy life traveling. She didn’t always stay in his house but spent some of her days with her daughter in town. He wasn’t sure or trusted his brother or the groundkeeper to manage the estate and the vineyard.

This morning, during breakfast, he struggled to get the jar of jam open when his housekeeper grabbed it out of his hands.

I’m old but not feeble Mrs. Redmond, he barked.

You know these things stick, she said and placed a warm wet cloth over the rim of the jar. Popping the canning lid open with the edge of a table knife, she handed the open half-pint jar back to him. He jerked it away from her hand and set it on the table. He stabbed the jam with the table knife his housekeeper used and placed a large blob of the glistening confection on his light brown toast. He loved the sweet raspberry flavor dissolving in his mouth. This time, however, there was a bitter aftertaste.

Mrs. Redmond! he yelled.

She returned from the kitchen and asked, Oh, what is it now?

This tastes terr–terri– He didn’t get to finish. He gasped, grabbed his throat, and fell out of his chair.

Mrs. Redmond screamed. When he didn’t move, she bent down to her employer and touched his neck. She couldn’t feel a pulse. Oh dear, oh dear. She collected her thoughts and withdrew her cell phone.

Carleen’s shaking fingers tapped the numbers 9-1-1 and called for the ambulance.

Chapter 1

Three Days Ago

Bernard Gantry sat behind his desk signing checks for the people who worked for him when his housekeeper knocked on his open door.

Yes, what is it, Mrs. Redmond? he asked, looking at her from his work papers.

Your brother, Ben, is here, she said. He says it’s important.

It’s always important to him, he grumbled, setting his pen on the writing pad. Fine, let him in.

Before she could return, Ben shot past her into the office. Bernard kept his business in his home where he could keep an eye on all those who worked for him. He glared at his younger brother. What do you want, now? he asked.

Ben took a chair near the desk and eased his broad frame into the cushion. He glanced around the darkened room, wondering how his brother could work in this dark room with all of the curtains closed. He leaned forward and clasped his hands around a bound stack of papers.

I need a small loan—

With you, it’s never a small loan.

I can’t access my CD right now and I just need enough to cover an investment that can’t wait, Ben said.

And what is this investment? Bernard picked at his pen.

It’s a new electronics firm, TyKo. They are expecting millions in returns.

And what is this small amount you need? Bernard asked, tapping his pen on his letter mat.

I need twenty thousand. Ben slapped a bundle of papers on his brother’s desk. Here’s the prospectus.

Bernard’s lips pressed tight and his eyebrows narrowed. When will your CD come to term? he asked.

In six months, Ben said under his breath.

If the deal is good enough in six months, you can invest your own funds then.

But they can’t wait. By that time, costs will rise and if they go public, the cost of the shares would be unattainable, Ben pleaded.

No, I’ve heard of them—too risky. That’s my final word. Bernard pulled out another sheet of paper from his basket.

Ben jumped to his feet. You can at least read about it, he said, pointing to the stapled packet. And what are you spending your money on? he asked, waving his arms in the air. This house is falling apart. Arleen was just complaining the other day about the plumbing rattling and you can’t loan your only brother some capital? Your brother, John was generous. I’m sorry he died. How about fifteen thousand?

Bernard ignored him and continued to write on his paper.

Someday, you’ll regret it. I wished you’d died in that pond when we were young. Remember, I was the one who saved you.

Bernard paused from his brother’s remark and continued. When John and his wife died in the car accident, our father decided I could take care of family business better than you, Bernard said. I think you should leave.

Ben clenched his fists and swiveled on his heel before rushing out of the room. Mrs. Redmond entered to close the office door. Before she grabbed the doorknob, Bernard stopped her.

You can leave the door open, he said. Did you hear much what Ben said?

Not everything, sir. He’s hard to ignore.

Thank you, Mrs. Redmond.

She nodded and left the room.

—-

Ben marched into his bedroom, fuming from his brother’s rejection. His wife, Arlene, sat in an upholstered blue chair, reading one of her books. He observed the array of prescription containers on her nightstand. You shouldn’t have all your pills out on display. Anyone can come in here and steal them, he growled.

And who would want them? she asked, looking up from her book.

Just put them away. Your heart meds will kill someone if they took it.

Oh, fiddle. What’s wrong, dear, Arlene said, setting her book aside. She opened her nightstand drawer and placed some of her pills inside.

My dear brother refused me a loan, he said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Arlene sat near him and rubbed his back. Sorry, but did you really think he would? she asked. Maybe your son, Arthur, can loan you some. He did well after Christmas, last I heard.

Ben frowned as he glanced at her nightstand with the remaining bottles on top. You didn’t remove those, he said.

Those are the ones I take after lunch, she replied.

Well, when you do, please put them away, he said, rising to his feet.

I’ll take a walk down to the barn. I noticed our maple trees and lilacs are looking pale.

They don’t belong in the mountains, Dear, she said, reaching for her book. Ask Daniel. I’m sure he can suggest something. When she opened her book, he knew she was finished with his observations concerning her pill bottles. He stomped out of their bedroom and walked through the kitchen toward the back door. He strolled past Carleen Redmond, whose back was to him as she bent down into the dishwasher.

—-

After Carleen pulled out the last clean dish from the washer, she thought she heard the back door shut. She turned and didn’t see who it was. She continued to search the lower cupboards for small canning jars to make jam. Mary brought her a large box full of raspberries she picked from her garden.

When Carleen saw the full carton, she knew she needed to start on them right away. On one of the pantry shelves, she found several canning jars she had placed from last fall. After she unscrewed the rings, she threw the old used lids into the trash. She set the jars into the dishwasher.

Carleen retrieved the spoons she would need from the utensil drawer and searched the cupboard for her canning kettles. She loved these large deep pots for their heavy metal sidewalls and their size.

She placed the pots on top of the stove and added a small amount of water into their wells. Carton by carton, she dumped the fruit into the pots to make jam. After she added sugar and pectin on top of the raspberries, the front doorbell rang with an off-key chime. Denise, she called. Can you answer that?

She gave the mixture a good stir. When she heard the chimes again, she set her long spoon on the counter. Oh, for heaven’s sake, she muttered and turned on the dishwasher before she hurried from the kitchen. She didn’t dare start the stove burner yet.

The doorbell rang again. Coming, she shouted as she ran toward the front door.

She opened the door and recognized Bernard’s lawyer, Gerald Williams, standing on the porch. The man wore his usual attire of a brown suit with a handkerchief corner emerging from his chest pocket.

Is Mr. Gantry expecting you? she asked, observing a large manila envelope resting in his arm.

Yes. I have some papers Bernard needs to sign, Gerald said. A woman stepped behind him. This is my assistant, Francis.

Carleen noticed the diminutive woman appeared to be in her thirties. She wore a blue skirt and a black blazer over a white blouse. Her dark-rimmed glasses gave the impression she was here for business.

Come in. I’ll let him know you are here. He just saw his brother Ben and may not be in the best of moods, Carleen said, stepping into the hallway.

No problem. Bernard called me earlier and asked that I come over.

Very well. Have a seat in the living room. She guided them to the large room from the hallway and beckoned them to sit. Gerald’s assistant glanced around at the old wood paneling covering the walls and floor.

While the guests settled into the living room, Carleen rushed to Bernard’s office. She tapped on the open door to alert her employer.

Yes, Mrs. Redmond? Bernard said, lifting his gaze toward her.

A Mr. Gerald Williams and associate are waiting for you in the living room. Do you wish to see them there or here?

In here, he replied.

Carleen rushed back to the living room. Mr. Gantry will see you now in his office. Follow me, she said.

Thank you, said Francis.

As soon as Gerald and Francis entered Bernard’s office, Carleen closed the door behind them and returned to the kitchen to light the stove.

—-

Gerald stepped closer to Bernard’s desk. Here is the paperwork you need to sign and I can then add this to your current will. He pulled the stapled document from the manila envelope and laid it in front of Bernard.

Thank you, and who is this? Bernard asked, noting the woman.

This is my assistance, Francis. She’s our witness.

Bernard leafed through the forms. He read each page and signed the appropriate lines.

Francis signed her name as the witness and Gerald notarized each page.

What about title transfer on the house? Bernard asked.

You can sign it whenever you are ready and mail it to my office, Gerald said.

Then I guess we are done, Bernard said, rising from his chair.

Yes, and I’ll let you know when they all have been filed.

Thank you, Gerald, Bernard said, shaking his lawyer’s hands.

Gerald turned and left the office with Francis.

—-

Denise, Bernard’s niece, strode past the housekeeper in the kitchen. Who was at the door? she asked. She wasn’t employed except to help Carleen on occasion.

Just Gerald Williams, Carleen said, dumping a container of berries into her simmering pot. I have eggs on the stove and toast made.

Thanks. I won’t stay long. Denise scooped up the eggs from the frying pan and a piece of toast from a platter. Is my Uncle Bernard in his office today?

Yes, but he’s not in the best of moods. He just saw his lawyer. You can knock and find out for yourself, Carleen said. I have a ton of berries to take care of. Mary gave them to me to make jam.

That sounds delicious, Denise said, finishing the eggs on her plate before she took a bite from the toast.

I could use your help, Mrs. Redmond said.

I would if I could. After I see Uncle, Brett is waiting for me in the living room. We’re checking out the yard sales.

I didn’t know you were interested in those things, Carleen said, adding more berries to her steaming pot.

I was watching one of those flea market shows and what you can revitalize and resell, Denise said, stabbing her eggs.

That requires expertise and work, Carleen said.

Brett and I can do it, Denise said, scooping up another forkful of eggs.

Carleen nodded. She didn’t want to get into telling this girl she needs to get a good paying job.

Denise finished her breakfast, left her plate on the table, and left the kitchen. She hurried to her uncle’s office. After rapping three times on the open door, she waited until he raised his eyes toward her.

Yes? he asked.

I need a few dollars, Uncle. Brett and I are taking a drive in the country. A few yard sales are going on.

And Brett can’t loan you any? he asked.

He could but then he wouldn’t have enough for our date on Saturday.

My dear, I give you a generous allowance. What happened to that?

See this necklace and bracelet? Denise said, touching her neck. Brett is taking me to that nice restaurant on Lakewood Lane.

Hmph, I do wish you’d find a more suitable friend. He’ll never keep you in the fineries you’re used to.

Really? What about you marrying Ruth? She’s stepping up, I might say.

She won’t have to support me, he said.

But she’s just marrying you for your money, Denise said.

And you’re sticking around here for...?

Oh, you’re impossible. Brett is going to own his winery someday. That’s what he’s saving for, she said. Ten or fifteen dollars is all I’m asking.

Then I’ll dock your next month’s allowance. You have to set priorities and manage your funds better. Do you remember Dan Whitmore?

Isn’t he that stuck-up golf pro? she asked.

He would make you a fine husband and help you produce a few heirs.

Denise’s eyes widen before her eyebrows pinched over her nose. I’m only nineteen! I don’t want children now. And what about Brett?

You will in time. He’ll get over it, Bernard said, opening his cash drawer. Here’s ten, spend it wisely.

Denise snatched the bill from her uncle’s hand and pressed her lips tight before stomping out of the office.

She marched past Beth and Arthur emerging from one of the bedrooms off the hallway. They followed her into the kitchen. She sat at the small kitchen