A Deadly Affair at Bobtail Ridge (2 page)

“I'm going to the waiting room,” I say. “When you take a break come and find me.”

“You go on with him,” the nurse orders Jenny. “I need to do a few things for your mamma. She'll be fine until you get back.”

I steer Jenny to the elevator. “Let's get you down to the cafeteria,” I say. “You need a bite to eat.”

“I couldn't eat anything.”

“You have to. It won't help your mother if you faint and crack your head and end up in the bed next to her.”

She manages a tired smile. “Some coffee would be good.”

When I have Jenny sitting in front of coffee, pecking at watery scrambled eggs, I ask how Vera ended up in the hospital. “Who found her?”

“The nurse told me Mamma called EMS at four o'clock this morning. Said she wasn't feeling good and she thought they better come and get her.” She shakes her head. “If you knew Mamma, you'd know she had to be in bad shape to make that call. Anyway, by the time they got to her place she was unconscious.”

“They think it's a stroke?”

Jenny frowns and pokes the eggs. “Yes. They said it's a good thing she called when she did. The faster they get to a stroke victim, the better the chance of recovery.”

“What does the doctor say about her prognosis?”

“You know how they are. He didn't say much—just that they got to her in good time.” She swallows. “All I know is I don't know what I'll do if something happens to Mamma.” She looks into the distance. “I can't stand to see her lying there looking so helpless.”

I reach over and pat her hand. “How old is Vera?”

“She's only seventy-five. And vigorous. I told you she gardens and she walks with a couple of friends every day. Vigorous!” Jenny's talking as if she's trying to persuade me—or maybe she's trying to persuade fate to pass her mamma by.

“Jenny, you've never mentioned any family but your mamma. Do you have anybody else?”

She tucks a few of her escaped curls back behind her ears. “Just an aunt and uncle out in Lubbock. We see them a couple of times a year. I guess I'd better call Aunt Susie. She's a good bit younger than my mamma and they aren't close.”

“Your daddy still living?”

She sets her fork down precisely, and her face closes up like a door that's been slammed. “I wouldn't know about that. He left us when I was a teenager. Walked out and never came back.”

“What was his name?”

“Howard. That was a long time ago.” She shoves her coffee away. “I need to get back up there. I'm nervous as a cat when I'm away from Mamma.”

“Wait.” I wrap up the biscuit she left on her plate in a napkin. “Take this with you so you have something to nibble on later.”

She shoves it into her bag and starts to walk away but turns back. “Thank you for coming. You got Truly to take care of the horses?”

“The horses are taken care of. Let me know when you'll be home and I'll stir up a meal for you.”

When I get to my pickup, I open my cell phone and find two messages from people needing me. As acting chief of police for the past few months, I've gotten back in the saddle. I was chief years ago but never thought I'd serve in that capacity again. But when the town of Jarrett Creek went bankrupt, the mayor asked me to come back as a temporary measure, since I had the experience and didn't need the salary. Turns out the job suits me better than I thought it would.

CHAPTER 2

I'm on the phone with my nephew Tom at six in the evening when I hear banging on my door for the second time today.

James Harley Krueger is standing on my doorstep looking hot and bothered. Krueger was acting chief of police before I took over, and although he has found a different calling, he still resents me.

“What can I do for you?” I say.

“You can call that friend of yours, Jenny Sandstone, and tell her to come round up her damn horses. They're out on the street headed for town and there's gonna be hell to pay if they get on the highway.”

“You sure it's her horses? How'd they get out?”

“How should I know? All I know is the two of them are trotting down the street in front of Buzz Carter's house. I don't know anybody else who keeps a horse around here. Jenny's not home, though. I tried knocking on her door first.”

I tell him where Jenny is, and then I snatch up my hat and head out to my truck. “I'd appreciate it if you'd follow and maybe between the two of us we can get them rounded up.”

I don't listen to his reply. I doubt he'll stop to help. He has an aversion to all things physical. The way his belly has continued to grow over his belt, it wouldn't hurt him to chase some horses. Sure enough, he drives right on past me. Although he's leaving me in the lurch, at least I'm grateful that he went to the trouble to let me know the horses are out.

I head over to Fourth Street and find Buzz Carter standing out in his yard looking down the street where the horses have stopped to sample the grass on a vacant lot. I pull up to the curb next to him and roll down my window. “You know anything about horses?”

Buzz has a boat rental place out at the lake. He's fifty, built small and compact, with a peaceful way about him. He grins. “All I know is, you can't get a horse into a motorboat.”

I tell him that Jenny is at the hospital in Bobtail with her mamma. “I don't know how those two got out, but I have to round them up and that's going to present a challenge.”

“Say no more. My boy Alvin is here. He's got a good feel for horses, though I don't know how he came by it.”

Buzz's son, the image of his daddy, says he'll take care of the horses. He goes into their garage and comes out with a couple of lengths of rope that he fashions into makeshift halters as we walk down to the vacant lot. By the time I would have mustered the courage to approach Mahogany and Blackie, Alvin has them haltered and ready to lead them back home. They shied and jumped around a little bit at first, but it didn't seem to bother him a bit. He talked to them in a firm, kind voice that settled them right down. I tell him where Jenny lives and get back in my truck.

On the short drive back to Jenny's I try to think how they could have gotten out. There's only one gate that leads to the street, and the only time I've seen it open is when Jenny goes out for a ride.

Sure enough, the gate is standing open. Some youngster must have opened it as a prank. I'm grateful that the horses didn't come to any harm. I would have been mortified to have to explain that to Jenny.

Alvin takes the horses straight into the barn. I follow and watch him as he looks them over nose to tail, patting them and prodding them and calling them by name. “I want to be sure they're okay.” When he's finished he says, “They look fine. Funny that they got out, though. Better make sure that gate is padlocked.”

And then I remember that Jenny always keeps the gate padlocked. To open the gate, someone would have had to get the padlock off. I wonder if Jenny took it off for some reason and forgot to put it back on.

By the time we walk out to the street it's dark. I thank Alvin for his help and run him back over to his daddy's house in my truck. When I get back home, my repaired knee is starting to swell a little, as it still does some nights when I've had an active day. “You're going to have to put up with me moving around a little longer,” I tell it.

I take my big flashlight over to Jenny's and shine it around on the ground near the gate. Over by the house, I catch a glint of steel, and sure enough it's the lock. It has been sheared open. Must have taken heavy-duty bolt cutters. Seems like a strange bit of mischief. Who would have done something like that? Not kids. Maybe somebody who doesn't like horses, or maybe doesn't like Jenny?

In my garage I locate a couple of spare padlocks and put one at the top and one at the bottom of the gate.

Back at my house I close up for the night, but the question of the lock nags at me. I'm usually a good sleeper, but tonight I jerk awake a few times, restless, thinking I hear sounds from the horse stable. The third time it happens I get up, ease out the back door, and stand in the yard, eyes straining in the direction of the stable. I don't hear or see anything out of the ordinary.

When I go back to bed, I'm wide awake and I lie there remembering the crazy talk today from Jenny's mamma. Drugs talking. Sometimes when my wife Jeanne was under the influence of the drugs that kept her pain at bay, she would mutter wild ideas. Complaining that people were sitting on her bed or standing by the window when there was no one there. But Vera Sandstone seemed very certain of what she was saying.

Jenny's horses are fine this morning. If anything, they look pleased with themselves for their adventure yesterday. The padlocks are still secure. I'll check them again later in the day.

I swing by police headquarters to make sure nothing out of the ordinary needs seeing to. The young part-time deputy, Bill Odum, is on duty today. He's fresh out of the police academy but is a quick learner. He says he'll keep an eye on things and call me if he needs help. I'm glad I finally got a cell phone. It makes a big difference not having to stick by the telephone.

I go over to Jenny's again to check on the gate locks. They're still in place. There's a man I don't recognize sitting in a beat-up old white Chevy outside her house. I'm uneasy about him, but before I can walk over and find out what he's up to, he fires up the engine and takes off.

CHAPTER 3

Sunday Jenny says Vera seems better, so the next morning, with Jenny off at work, I visit Vera in the hospital. As I approach the front entrance a man who looks vaguely familiar is hurrying out the sliding glass doors—he's a big man with wiry reddish hair peppered with gray. He's football-player big, but unlike a lot of aging men with his build, he's kept his muscle tone. From the leathery look of his skin, I'd guess that he works outdoors. I nod to him, but he takes no notice. He pauses at the top of the steps, looks out over the parking lot like he's surveying his territory, and heads down to the lot. He climbs into a black Lincoln town car and whips out onto the road like he's got someplace important to be.

There's no sign on Vera's door telling visitors to check in at the desk, so I knock on the door and step in. Vera is propped up on pillows holding a tissue to her eyes that she takes away hastily when she sees me. Her skin is blotchy and her eyes red. She gives me a determined smile that is still lopsided. Her left eye is still droopy, but her color looks better. She has pulled her hair back in a bun and donned a quilted, blue bed jacket. “Wait, don't tell me. I know who you are. You're Jenny's next-door neighbor, Samuel, isn't that right?”

“Yes. I came by to see how you're feeling. Jenny says you're on the mend. I have to say you're looking a whole lot better than you did the last time I saw you.”

She searches my face. “You were here before?”

“That's right. The day after you came to the hospital. You don't remember?”

She hesitates. “I'm afraid I don't. Was I making any sense?”

“You were fine.”

We make a little small talk about when she'll get out of the hospital and how much she imagines her garden has suffered. “Jenny's a good girl, but she doesn't know a thing about keeping a garden. Thank goodness I've got a sweet neighbor man who looks out for the garden when I can't do it.”

“Speaking of Jenny,” I say, “I'd like to ask you about something you said to me when I was here last week.”

“I was so out of it, there's no telling what I said.” She gives a strained little laugh. Her expression is wary.

“You said you think Jenny is in danger. What did you mean?”

“I said that? I don't know what was going through my mind. I must have been dreaming.” She blushes. Her hand flutters to her hair, and she glances at the door.

“You also asked me to look for your husband, Howard.”

“Now I know I was out of it,” she says. “Howard has been gone a long time. I don't know why I'd ask you to find him.”

“And you wanted me to locate his first wife.”

She starts and her right arm jerks, sending a novel lying next to her spinning to the floor. I notice that her hand is shaking.

“I'll get that.” I walk around the bed, pick up the novel, and set it back near her.

Her eyes dart toward the door again, and as if she has conjured a rescue, the same nurse who chased me out last time flounces in.

“Vera, is this man bothering you again?” She cocks her head at me as if trying to decide whether I actually constitute a danger to her patient.

“I'm totally innocent,” I say. “I only stopped by to tell Vera I'm glad she's feeling better.”

There's no mistaking the relief in Vera's voice. “I'm so glad you came, Samuel. And regarding that matter we were discussing, please don't mention it to Jenny.” Her look is stern. She was a schoolteacher and sounds like she assumes people will obey when she lays down the law.