ShotgunRelations, page 10
“Nothing on the ranch itself except Mavis’ horse. He was still saddled and his reins were trailing on the ground. Apparently nobody ever trained him to ground-tie, because he was running loose in the pasture where Manuel had been when he fired the shot. Damn good thing he didn’t fall over the reins and hurt himself. We caught him, put him in one of the Bar C’s trailers and brought him home. Diego unloaded him a few minutes ago and let him loose in the paddock.”
Jack smiled. “Maybe now Mavis will calm down.”
“Maybe.” Four grinned but then his expression turned serious. He pulled a chair up and spoke quietly enough that only Jack could hear. “The deputies found Yancey Cole’s body in a ditch on the farm road right-of-way that passes through the Bar C. He had a bullet hole in his left shoulder and another one in his skull.”
So Cole was the one who’d taken Mavis’ favorite riding horse. “I hope to God Atkins doesn’t want Liz to identify the body.”
“Frank Williams ID’d him. He swears he fired Cole around four this morning when he caught the man skulking around the stables and says he never saw him after that. I don’t believe him but we’ll wait and see what the medical examiner has to say. My bet is that the bullet in Cole’s head came from a different gun than the hunting rifle that Manuel fired. All our wranglers carry rifles that shoot .30-06 ammunition, and it was probably a .22 bullet that left one small, neat hole in the man’s head.”
Jack glanced down at Liz to be sure she was still sleeping. “Very likely. I imagine a .30.06 would have blown the guy’s head off. Do you know how long it will take to get the medical examiner’s report?”
Four shook his head. “I’m going to call in some favors in Lubbock and try to get the autopsies given priority. That may speed things up unless Lubbock County has had a rash of unexplained deaths lately. They get priority when it comes to getting autopsies done by their own ME. Our county apparently is low man on the medical examiner’s totem pole because we so rarely have to ask for his help.”
Jack had a feeling the Rangers’ task force would have more to do with expediting the autopsies than Four’s call to his political crony, but he wouldn’t burst the old man’s bubble. “On behalf of Liz and Mavis I’ve formally asked Sheriff Atkins to keep some deputies here. I plan to stay here too, but this ranch is too big for me and a few cowhands that Liz trusts to watch over.”
“I’ve persuaded Atkins to keep an eye on Frank as well. If a gang of rustlers have infiltrated this ranch, I give odds he’s behind it. It’s too bad he has Mavis buffaloed, or Liz could fire him based on nothing but a hunch.”
Jack thought for a minute about whether he should say it but decided to go ahead and voice his unfounded suspicion. “Do you think it’s possible Mrs. Wolfe’s sleeping with Frank? I don’t know her that well but she seems irrational when Liz suggests disciplining her foreman in any way.”
“I doubt that. Frank isn’t Mavis’ type. Besides, he has a wife who lives in the foreman’s house right here a stone’s throw from the back porch of this place. I’m pretty sure he and Mavis are both smart enough not to carry on in their own backyard so to speak.”
You’re thinking they’re as sneaky as you were, asshole. Jack had to bite his tongue to keep from saying that out loud.
Four’s brow creased as he apparently considered Jack’s suggestion. “It’s more likely that Frank may have something he’s holding over her head, because it doesn’t seem she’d back him over Liz so adamantly because of what she thinks he means to the ranch operation. She’s never involved herself with the nuts and bolts or even the accounting for the Laughing Wolf.”
“What do you think Frank may be holding over her?” Anything significant would certainly explain Mavis’ irrational championing of the surly foreman over her daughter.
“I haven’t a clue. Mavis has done some pretty strange things over the years, especially since Bill passed away. It could be she thinks she’s got precious minerals somewhere on her land, or she found something on the ranch that she believes is worth a ton.”
“Why wouldn’t she just exploit anything like that?”
Four looked at Jack as though he thought Jack was crazy. Then he laughed. “You don’t know, do you? The Laughing Wolf doesn’t belong to Mavis. Bill left it to Liz because Mavis is such a dingbat. He showed me his will before he died. That could be what Frank knows that he’s holding over Mavis’ head.”
“You mean Liz owns the ranch but doesn’t know it?” Jack figured that was possible since she’d still been a child when her father had died. It was even likely that her father’s will, or more likely a codicil to it, had stated that she not be told of her inheritance until she became an adult, but the estate’s attorney should have notified her at that time.
“It’s possible. More than possible, I’d say. Bill always used Dan Merriman as his attorney—the old man who died not long after Bill, not the son who sold the practice to you. Danny was a drunk, lost half of his daddy’s clients before he got disbarred and sold you what was left of the practice. I wouldn’t be surprised if Danny didn’t forget all about the fact that he’d need to notify Liz about her inheritance once she turned eighteen—that is if he ever bothered to look through his father’s files.”
If that was so, then Jack probably had the papers somewhere in the storeroom full of jumbled files that had come with the practice. It had been no picnic, locating old paperwork on the few occasions clients had asked him about long-ago deeds, contracts and such. “Shit. If you aren’t angling to annex the Laughing Wolf, what are you doing going after Mavis?”
“Would you believe me if I said Mavis has always made me see the lighter side of things? We dated back in high school before Bill caught her eye. I wouldn’t mind it at all if we got together now. We’re both alone and getting older every year, and she’s an easy woman to be with.”
For a minute Jack wanted to scream that Four had already had a mistress before his wife had died—Marianne. Then he realized that whatever good traits his mother might possess, she was anything but easy to be around. “I thought—”
“Yes, I know. You had some justification for thinking what you thought. Over the years Caden men have swallowed up a good many parcels of land into the Bar C via marriage.” Four sounded practically apologetic. “What we need to do now is set aside our differences, at least long enough to work together while this nonsense is going on.”
Jack agreed. He shook Four’s outstretched hand, then looked down at Liz. “I don’t intend to let her out of my sight until everything’s settled. She’s a strong woman but these killings have got her doubting her ability to take care of things right now. I may be calling to ask your advice on ranch issues that she’s always relied on Frank to handle. I don’t trust that man as far as I can throw him, but I know nothing about running a spread like this one. I can tell a cow from a bull, but that’s about it.”
Four stood and offered his hand to Jack. “Any time. I’m sure Bye will be glad to lend a hand as well, when he and Karen get back from their honeymoon. I’m going up now to let Mavis know we found Patches and brought him home safe and sound.”
* * * * *
The next morning Liz looked up from the ranch accounts she’d been working on, at Frank’s flushed face. She noticed his belligerent stance and the evil-looking sneer on his face made her tremble. Jack stood behind the older man, looking as though he was ready to pounce with the slightest provocation, and his presence bolstered her confidence.
She met the foreman’s angry gaze. “What do you want, Frank?”
“Tell me you don’t expect me to take orders from this idiot lawyer. I’m no wet-behind-the-ears cowpoke who needs somebody standin’ over him all day long.” Frank slammed his fist down on Liz’s desk, sending her pen bouncing onto the floor.
Liz sighed. She’d been afraid of this—afraid Frank would see through her request for Jack to shadow him today on the pretense of learning his way around the ranch. “As I told you before, Jack is sticking with you because I asked him to, so he can learn the routine around here.” She wished Sheriff Atkins had just put a deputy on him to watch his every move, but she guessed that was too much to expect from the lawman who’d considered Frank his friend since they’d been classmates years ago. “He’s not there to order you around, so get off your high horse. We’re all on edge after what happened yesterday but that’s no excuse for acting like a jerk.”
“How long is it gonna take for them to figure out who killed Dale and Yancey? The hands are all skittish as yearlings in the branding chutes.”
Jack moved behind Liz’s desk and rested his hands on her shoulders before speaking directly to Frank. “Autopsies generally take a week or so. Meanwhile the sheriff will continue his investigation. I suggest you tell the cowhands that, and let them know there will be deputies underfoot 24/7 until he has some answers. I’m keeping an eye on you because Mrs. Wolfe didn’t want to undermine your authority with the workers by asking the sheriff to have one of the deputies keep you under surveillance.”
“Don’t tell me Sheriff Atkins thinks I may have had something to do with those murders. I’ve known ol’ Todd since we were little kids.”
Liz met Frank’s shifty gaze. “Jack didn’t say that. Sheriff Atkins told us he’s keeping tabs on everybody until he gets some answers. Mother’s the one who suggested it would look better to the men if Jack stayed with you instead of having a deputy follow you around.”
“I don’t like it, little gal, not one bit,” he muttered as he turned and stomped out of the room.
Jack stroked her cheek, his touch more soothing than sexual. “You’ll get through this, honey. I promise. Meanwhile I’d better go do my part and keep an eye on Frank, whether or not he likes it.”
Liz ran her fingers through her hair and massaged her throbbing temples. This had been the worst twenty-four hours of her life, and she’d be a total basket case by now if not for Jack. When she’d woken early this morning from whatever Doc Baines had given her to knock her out, he’d been there holding her. Lending her his strength.
“Miss Wolfe, Sheriff Atkins is here to see you.”
Liz looked up and saw Maria, the housekeeper, stepping back to let the sheriff come into the ranch office. “How can I help you?” she asked.
Atkins looked at her, a strange expression on his weathered face. “We found a truck with tires that match the casting we made last week after the Bar C cattle were rustled. You may want to get your lawyer before you say anything.”
“Maria, please get Mr. Duval and ask him to come inside. He’s out at the paddock with Frank.” Liz had a sinking feeling that the truck belonged to the Laughing Wolf from the stern look on the sheriff’s face. “Jack will be here in a minute.”
“Look, because we found the truck, that doesn’t necessarily mean I think you or your mama had anything to do with those rustled cows. It’s my job, though, to investigate all the possibilities.”
Liz didn’t know what to say. When she saw Jack come through the door, she calmed down. She trusted him to take care of whatever accusations the sheriff might be making in his down-home, slow-talking way. “Jack is here now, Sheriff. Would you mind going over what you found and where?”
Jack came over and put a comforting arm around Liz. “It will be okay, honey.”
“I hope so.”
“I don’t want you to worry. Sheriff, would you mind going over with me what you just told Liz?”
“Not at all. I assume you’re the Wolfes’ lawyer, right?”
“That’s right.” Liz guessed that was true since Jack had bought out the Merrimans’ practice, and old Dan Merriman had apparently handled the ranch’s infrequent legal issues.
“Okay, one of my deputies matched the casting of the tires we found in the pasture next to the Bar C where the cattle were taken last week. An open stock-hauling truck with the same kind of tires was found this morning in an old cow barn on the other side of the ranch, near the highway. It’s a Laughing Wolf truck, the kind that’s used to haul a few head of cattle.”
Liz took a deep breath. “Sheriff, that must be one of the two open trucks we keep to move our stock around on the ranch. When we send steers to the feedlots, we contract with a hauler who uses eighteen wheelers. Both of those trucks should have been sitting right where you found them for at least a month, since it’s been that long since we shifted any cows or horses from one pasture to another.””
When Jack squeezed her shoulder, she took that to mean she shouldn’t volunteer any more information, but damn it, she had nothing to hide. “If somebody used one of those trucks last weekend, he didn’t have my permission.”
“We’re dusting the truck for prints. Unless the driver wore gloves, we should be able to find out who drove it last.”
“Are you sure which one of the trucks was used?” Jack asked.
“Only one of them has the right kind of tires. The tread on them is unusual.”
“Jack, come over here and look at this.” Liz went to her desk and flipped the computer to the ranch’s accounting software. When he joined her she pointed out an entry for eight truck tires that had been bought about two months ago.
“What, honey?”
“We bought new tires for both of those trucks in August, not long before the fall roundup.” She pulled up a scan of the invoice from the tire store in Lubbock. “See, all the tires were exactly the same.”
Jack turned to Sheriff Atkins, who’d ambled over to look at the screen over Liz’s other shoulder. “Did you ever think that somebody might have switched their tires for the ones on that truck to throw you off their trail?”
Atkins shook his head. “I hate to say it, Liz, but I think you may have a rustler workin’ for you, one who doesn’t have a record. All your employees checked out when we ran them through the computer for priors.”
“Before you come to the conclusion that Liz is involved with rustling cattle, Sheriff, you might want to check the ranch hands’ private vehicles to see if any of them have new tires like the ones that were put on that truck. Somebody could have gone in the cow barn and switched tires with theirs after they heard you’d found the tracks and taken castings.” Jack hit the print button on Liz’s computer and handed Atkins a copy of the invoice for the eight new tires.
“Good idea.” Atkins phoned a deputy and ordered them to look for a private vehicle that had tires like the ones Liz had bought for the trucks. Then he scratched his head and looked back at Liz. “Who could have gotten into the barn? It was locked when the deputy went in to take a look. He’d have had to get a key from Frank, wouldn’t he?”
“Yes. The barns away from the house are supposed to be kept locked all the time except when somebody needs to get something or put something inside them. They’re only used for stock when it gets too cold to let them stay outside and that’s only a few days every year, usually in December or January. Frank has the only key I know of except the master that stays locked up here in the safe. He could have lent it to somebody, I guess, but he’d have insisted that the key be returned to him.” Liz worked the combination and opened the safe, bringing out a board full of keys labeled for the various buildings around the ranch. “The master key is right here where it belongs.”
Sheriff Atkins’ phone rang, startling Liz as she put the keys back in the safe. “Fuck, I hate to do it, but I’ve got no choice. Find Frank and put him under arrest. Be careful though, he may be desperate enough to try something foolish.”
He turned to Jack and Liz. “Deputy Allen just found your tires, Liz. They’re on Frank Williams’ truck.”
As much as she sometimes wanted to strangle Frank for treating her like a kid who was none too bright, Liz didn’t want him to be involved in anything dirty, like stealing cattle. “You think he took the Bar C’s cows? Where would he have put them? He and his wife live in the foreman’s cottage here on the Laughing Wolf. They’ve lived here since I was a little girl.”
Jack cleared his throat. “Frank could own a piece of property somewhere fairly close by, to stash stolen stock until he can alter the brands and market the animals. Or he could be partners with somebody who has a smaller ranch in this area. From what the task force people said, rustlers are pretty damn smart these days.”
“Jack, will you defend Frank?” The least Liz and her mother owed Frank was that, for the years he’d spent taking care of the place after her dad’s death.
He shook his head. “That would be a conflict of interest, honey. I can recommend a guy over in Lubbock who sometimes handles criminal cases on this circuit. Karen can’t take his case either, because it’s Bar C stock he’ll be accused of rustling—for now, unless the sheriff finds evidence about other rustling or worse. What are you recommending that the district attorney charge him with, Sheriff?”
“Right now, all he can be charged with is rustling Bar C cattle. That would be grand theft in lawyer lingo.”
“Which would be a class-one felony. That sounds serious enough to me. Liz, I don’t recommend that you or your mother help him make bail.”
Sheriff Atkins looked straight at Jack, as though he didn’t want to say it to her. “We don’t know exactly how Dale Cavanaugh died yet but I don’t believe for a minute that the ME will say it was from natural causes. I’ve got a sinking feeling we’ll find that the bullet that put a hole in Yancey Cole’s head will match up with one of the guns we just confiscated from the foreman’s house. Deputy Allen says Frank has quite a collection. You know, Duval, I feel as bad about this as Liz does. Frank and I have been friends since we started school, long before either of you was born.”
When the sheriff finally left to deliver Frank to the jail in Caden, Liz gave in to her distress and leaned against Jack. “I need my master now, not the ranch’s attorney. If you hadn’t been here for me, I’d have crumbled into a million pieces.”
Jack held her tight, laid kisses along her jaw. “I’ll always be here for you, don’t you worry about that.”
* * * * *
