A Memory Worth Dying For (29 page)

“We don’t know, Daniel. That’s what we’re trying to find out. We also found a note in the trash can at the stable telling Zach to check those fillies in that field. Looks like pre-meditated murder. Did you ever see him talk to anybody other than everyone around the ranch?”

“Yeah, I did. Jordan Welsh came by the ranch a few days before Zach died. I saw them out by the barn, and then they walked through the stable. I didn’t know who it was then, but I saw him the other day in town and he introduced himself. Jordan’s been stocking Vinny’s ranch on the other side of town and came over to ask us some questions about boarding horses, when we give vaccines—things like that. I suppose Zach was showing him around. Other than that, I never saw him with anybody. He loved spending time in town, though. We teased him about having a girlfriend. You might check that out. As soon as he was done with his chores, he was gone. Kept pretty much to himself around here. I did see him in the hardware store a couple of months ago. He bought one of those Victorinox knives.
As a matter of fact, I bought one as well.”

“Is yours like the one Marti found under her bed?”

“What?”

“Gerald brought me a knife a few days ago and said Marti found it under her bed the day after she thought someone broke into her room.”

And Daniel had dismissed it as a bad dream. “I didn’t know about that, but the knife Zach had is just like mine. It’s red with flames on it, and it has thirty different attachments.”

“Yep. That sounds like this one. Do you still have yours?”

“It’s at the house.”

“This one might be Zach’s then. Could be Zach’s murderer planted it under Marti’s bed to make it look like he’s the one who attacked her.”

Brent was quiet, and Daniel assumed he was writing everything down.

“Do you know if Zach had any family?”

“He said he had none. He wasn’t much of a hired hand, but I can’t imagine why someone would want him dead.”

“We researched our database and found out he was married before. Did he ever mention a wife?”

“No. I had no idea he’d been married.”

“Well, there’s one thing for sure, he couldn’t have been Marti’s stalker like she thought. He had a secure alibi for the two years Marti says she was being followed. He worked at a ranch in California as a horse wrangler. The ranch owner and foreman confirmed he never left the place. I guess that means her stalker is still at large. Tell her to be careful.”

Daniel grimaced. “Okay, Brent. I’ll let you know if I think of anything else.”

“Thanks, Daniel. There’s something else I want to run by you . . .”

FIFTY-FIVE

THE AFTERNOON SUN WAS HOT,
but the slight breeze kept Marti and Skyler cool for the most part. The umbrella over Marti’s painting reflected most of the light away from her eyes, and the cowboy hat she was wearing kept the sun from beating down on her head. She looked toward the light, high in the sky. “It has to be close to lunchtime.”

“I know. Gosh, I’m starved.”

Marti watched Skyler pull on the chain around her neck and look at the clock swinging on the end. “One o’clock. No wonder I’m dog-hungry. Cynthia’s supposed to bring us some vittles, but maybe she’s forgotten. I don’t know if I can wait any longer. What about you, Marti? You wanna go get a bite to eat?”

“I’ll wait on Cynthia a little longer. She said she was bringing something, so I’m sure she will. If she doesn’t come in a little while, I might get something. Go ahead if you want to. I’d like to finish this house corner before the light changes.”

Skyler leaned over Marti’s shoulder and gasped. “Marti! This is a dazzler, hon. You sure can’t claim God didn’t give you talent. I’ve been bitten by the green-eyed monster.” Her eyes were wide with wonder.

Marti grinned. She’d forgotten what a bigger-than-life character Skyler could be.

Cynthia drove up behind them, parked on the curb, and rolled down her window. She held up a Chick-fil-A sack. “Hey, gals! Let’s eat.”

“I’m with you, honey,” Skyler crooned as she opened Cynthia’s door and helped tote the to-go tray with drinks.

“I’m sorry I’m so late. The place was packed. I brought a couple of extra sandwiches in case someone’s totally famished. If Daniel needs something, he’s welcome.”

Marti glanced at him across the street. His back was to them, but she could see the phone held to his ear. “He’s on the phone now, but he might want something later.”

They sat down on a blanket Cynthia provided and ate their salads and sandwiches. When she was done eating, Skyler looked across the street. “Hey, the ice cream shop’s on the next street over. I’m gonna walk over there and get a cone. Would anyone else like something?”

“Ooo, that sounds delicious,” said Marti as she swallowed her last bite of salad. “Make mine chocolate.”

Skyler hopped up. “Come help me carry them, Cyndi.”

The two ladies left as Marti folded the blanket and threw the trash into her portable trash bag. She sat down in front of her easel. The sun’s rays were intense, but the slight breeze kept the temperature manageable. She rubbed on another layer of sun block and evaluated her painting. A shadow crept over her and covered her palette. She peered over her shoulder to find Daniel standing behind her.

“Hey, this looks great.” He leaned over her shoulder and pointed to a corner of the house that glowed with the morning sunlight. “I love the light in this area.”

Marti looked at her painting with a critical eye. “Art is all about the light and shadow. The proper lighting can make or break a painting. I painted that area this morning while the morning light was strongest.”

“I can see why. It looks like you’ll finish your painting before the auction, but Skyler’s looks half done.” He leaned his head sideways and stared at the impressionistic image Skyler was in the middle of painting. “Or maybe she’s finished.”

Marti laughed. “They say art’s in the eye of the beholder.”

“I guess.”

She picked up her paint brush and smeared paint on the only spot left on the canvas without paint—the bottom corner. The unease she’d felt earlier in the day about Veronica’s eventual appearance returned. “Was that Veronica on the phone?”

“No. Oh, I forgot to tell you—”

“Hey! Somebody help me.” Skyler called from across the street as she balanced three ice cream cones. “Cyndi deserted me and went back to painting.”

Daniel went to help her.

“We got a cone and a sandwich for you too, Daniel, but you’ll have to eat your dessert first.”

Daniel grinned. “Stella would have a fit if she were here.”

When Skyler finally popped the tip of the cone in her mouth, she looked at her clock. “Two-thirty. Yikes! I have to get busy.”

Marti swallowed her last bite and jumped up. “Me too.”

“Oh no! I’m out of red paint.” Skyler threw her empty tube in the trash.

Daniel swallowed his last french fry and wiped his hands on the napkin. “I can run over to the gallery and get you more.”

“Oh, would you, Daniel? That would be super.” She dug into her art bag and handed him a wad of bills. “I need one large tube of cadmium red light.”

Marti worked until Daniel returned. He handed Skyler the paint and moved to stand behind Marti while she put the finishing touches on the grass in the front of the painting. His closeness was a touch unnerving, but she tried to think about the auction and how much it meant to the orphanage.

At the end of the afternoon, Marti finished her painting about five minutes before Skyler threw down her brush and yelled. “I’m done.”

They all laughed at her excitement, packed up their paints, and walked with Daniel to the auction headquarters where the paintings were turned in and processed for the auction.

After turning in her painting, Marti entered the auditorium. Daniel was already sitting on a chair in the last row of seats arranged for bidders—a white bidder’s ticket stuck out of his shirt with the number one hundred forty-six stamped in black on the front. He waved to Marti and pointed at the seat beside him. She noticed there was an empty chair on his other side—probably for Veronica.

He turned to her as she rounded the last row of seats. “If Veronica shows up, I’ll probably ride home with her, so you can leave whenever you get ready.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Good luck with your painting. It deserves the highest price in the auction. It’s so beautiful. Hashtag: masterpiece.”

Marti laughed and sat down just as the auctioneer began his welcome and introduction of Alana.

Alana walked up to the podium.

“Hey everyone, I can’t tell you how excited I am to be here today. I’m afraid I have to leave before the auction is over, so I won’t get to thank you all in person. We have an adoption pending that has to be taken care of today. But before I go, I wanted to say thank you and let you know how much this means to all of us in Tennessee. You’ll never know what your contribution will mean to my sweet orphans. Not only will they get the new computers they’ve been dreaming about, but they’ll know in their hearts they have friends and supporters who care about them. Thank you all for your time, your prayers, and your financial contribution. We love you all.”

The crowd clapped, and the auctioneer stood up on the podium. “Okay folks, let’s get started. Dig deep in your pockets, and remember who the funds are for. Bring out the first painting.”

Halfway through the auction, a disturbance at the back of the room made Marti turn her head. Veronica had stepped into the doorway and was conversing with the one of the security guards.

Marti cringed and faced the front. Great. Now the fun was about to begin.

FIFTY-SIX

GERALD SAT AT THE BARN
office desk and watched out the window as Parker stepped onto the patio of the house and turned in his direction. When he trotted across the yard with a determined look on his face, Gerald moved to meet him at the door.

“What is it, Parker?”

“Would it be all right if Anita and I leave early today, sir? We . . . uh . . . have something we have to take care of.”

Gerald was surprised by Parker’s edgy behavior. Parker’s feathers were never ruffled. “Of course, Parker. Whatever chores you have left can be put off until tomorrow if you have somewhere important you need to be. Are you going to the auction?”

Parker shook his head. “No sir.” He turned toward the house but then stopped. “Oh, I almost forgot. Amber Pike called and wanted to know if you were here. She and Detective Brent Simmons would like to come out and see you if it’s convenient.”

“Now?”

“Yes, sir.”

Gerald blew out a slow breath. What kind of trouble was he about to wade into? “Okay, Parker. Call and tell them they’ll find me in the barn.”

“Yes, sir.”

Gerald spent the next thirty minutes double-checking records of the horses they were sending to next week’s sale. Training schedules as well as learning performance records were updated and included in the packet for each horse. Vaccinations for Western and Eastern Encephalomyelitis, rabies, tetanus, West Nile Virus, and influenza had all been given during the last month and were up to date for the sale. Daniel had checked boxes and signed the certificates of vaccinations. Gerald stapled them together with the vet’s overall health report and filed them in a large yellow envelope.

He glanced out the window and saw a man and woman walk around the corner of the house—Marvel County’s Police Detective, Brent Simmons, and Amber Pike, the insurance investigator. He closed his files and met them outside the barn door.

“Brent, Amber. Parker said you were stopping by.”

Amber Pike spoke first as she raised her head and regarded Gerald. “Sir, I’ll get right to the point. I told you I’d let you know when I concluded my investigation of the accident that killed your daughter and son-in-law. I’m afraid I have undeniable evidence to prove your daughter-in-law, Martha Rushing, was
not
driving the car the night of the accident but was instead riding in the back seat.”

Gerald’s muscles went rigid. “What? But Mary said—”

Amber picked up the thought. “Ah, yes . . . Mary Duke. According to the police report, she was on the scene for some time before the ambulance arrived, and she stated emphatically in the
insurance
report that she found Martha on the ground outside the vehicle beside the driver’s door and Vinny was riding in the back. However, in the
police
report, she stated Martha was behind the wheel when she arrived at the scene. And yet, Martha’s DNA and blood type were nowhere in the front seat. As a matter of fact, her DNA was found everywhere in the back seat of the car, riding behind the driver. The DNA and blood type of your daughter’s husband was all over the steering wheel, floorboard, front dash, and the driver’s seat—and of course, the air bag.”

She paused and watched Gerald.

Gerald slumped against the bales of hay stacked behind him. “You mean . . . Vinny was driving? But, it was Daniel’s car—it was logical that Marti would have been driving. All this time, we thought she was driving . . . because of what Mary said. Why would Mary lie?”

“I don’t know, sir. Do you have any idea why she’d want to make it look like your daughter-in-law was driving? Did your daughter-in-law and Mary Duke get along?”

Gerald shook his head. “Not really. I always suspected Mary was jealous of Marti, but not enough to frame her like this. Daniel and Mary’s daughter, Veronica, grew up together. We thought they might . . . well . . . get married one day, but the first time Daniel saw Marti, that was the end of that. I can’t believe Mary hated Marti enough to blame her for the crash.”

“Martha was convicted of reckless driving and vehicular manslaughter, wasn’t she?”

Gerald nodded. “Yes, but she was released on probation.”

“There was alcohol involved, I believe.”

Gerald nodded sadly. “I didn’t want to believe it, but according to the officers who investigated, there were open liquor bottles in the front seat. Since they thought Marti was driving, they assumed the bottles had to be hers. But, Marti was pregnant. As far as I could tell, she never drank during her pregnancy, and she had given up alcohol completely right after she . . . found the Lord, six months before the accident.”