Peril by Ponytail (A Bad Hair Day Mystery) by Nancy J. Cohen Page B

Clouds of dust and slivers of crystal billowed into the air.
    “Uncle Ray, are you all right?” he called once the debris had settled.
    “I’m still here. Are you guys okay?”
    Marla, crushed under her husband, wriggled free. “We’re fine. Aren’t we?” She brushed off her clothes after Dalton helped her to stand. Her body trembled. She folded her arms across her chest while her racing heart calmed.
    “That was close,” Dalton said, his face somber.
    His gaze scanned the catwalks, as did Marla’s. She didn’t discern anything unusual. Had she imagined the shadow before? Or the hint of laughter in her ears now?
    Historic theatres would never again hold the same appeal for her.
    Raymond’s eyes blazed behind his spectacles. “This wasn’t any accident. We could have been killed.”
    “I should go up there and take a look around.” Dalton turned to Marla. “Why don’t you wait outside? It’s not safe in here.”
    “All right, but please be careful.” She couldn’t leave this place too soon in her opinion.
    Waiting on the street, she considered who might have been following their movements. Somebody had noticed them entering the old theatre and had taken advantage of the opportunity to cause harm. Had it been a member of Raymond’s crew or someone else?
    “How well do you know your workers?” she asked Raymond when he and Dalton had rejoined her. Dalton’s negative shake of the head indicated his mission hadn’t proven fruitful.
    “We’re on passable terms. I wouldn’t say I know each guy personally.”
    “Did you hire them yourself?”
    “I brought in Gomez. He vetted the applicants. Don’t worry, they’re legal. They each had to show their documents, and I had my lawyer verify them. We wouldn’t risk skirting the law.”
    “By
we,
you mean yourself and Gomez?”
    Raymond’s gaze shuttered. “That’s right.”
    Somehow she didn’t think he’d meant his foreman.
    Drilling noises impacted her ears. Marla inhaled a deep breath of earth-scented mountain air to restore her equilibrium.
    Raymond gestured expansively. “Let me show you the hearse before you go. We discovered it intact, and it only needed a bit of polish.” He led them down the street at a fairly steep decline.
    A hearse. Oh, joy. They’d nearly ended up in one.
    Along the way, Marla put on her sunglasses. Curiosity propelled her thoughts away from their near-miss and back to their surroundings.
    “Did people leave here gradually or in a hurry?” she asked, wondering if residents had lingered after the mining operation shut down.
    “When the mine closed, there wasn’t any point in other folks staying. The miners would have gone elsewhere searching for jobs. That meant fewer people were around to buy goods and services from the merchants and tradespeople, and so they left, too. These towns could be deserted rather fast.”
    “What about their furniture and other goods?” Possibly the buildings hid a treasure trove of antiques.
    “Most of the items we’ve found are in disrepair and not worth restoring.”
    It was sad how these old settlements had died. The settings were so picturesque. Marla could imagine an art colony loving a place like this set among the hills.
    “Where did the miners live?” She stepped around a wooden electric pole that looked about to teeter over.
    “The company built houses and rented them to the miners and their families. Single men often shared a place together. Since they worked twelve-hour shifts, they weren’t all home at the same time. The houses were shotgun style. You could see in through the front door straight back to the rear.”
    “And these places are abandoned now?”
    “That’s right.” He pointed down a narrow lane, where dilapidated wood-framed structures lined the worn road. “I don’t have any plans to restore them at this time. Maybe later I’ll consider it, if there’s interest from people wanting to move here, but we’ll see how it goes.”
    “Where was the