Beneath the Tombstone (The Tombstone Series) (19 page)

“Jason,”
Tyler called out behind him.

Jason
stopped and stood motionless for a moment. Apparently, he hadn’t gotten through
to the tall cowboy. “What is it?” he turned and asked with a worn out sigh.

“You’re
finished,” Tyler said as he stretched his hands out to the fire.

Surely
he didn’t mean… “What, what do you mean?” Jason stammered.

Tyler
looked up from the fire and smiled. “I’m mean you’re finished. Sit down. Rest.
I’ll get you some soup.”

“But
I didn’t quit,” Jason argued defensively. After all of his hard work, Tyler was
sending him home because he got up in his face?

“I
know,” Tyler responded glancing up from his task of putting soup into one of
the cups. “That’s why you’re finished.”

Finally,
it dawned on Jason. “I, I made it?” he asked. “I passed?” Tyler nodded without
looking up. “But my time?” Jason asked. “I kept failing.”

“Remember
what I told you this morning?” Tyler asked. “True love may fail, but it never
quits. You failed again and again and again but you didn’t quit… therefore you
didn’t fail.”

“That’s
pretty deep,” Jason commented as he sat down close to the fire.

“Some
have said I’m a deep man,” Tyler chuckled before getting up from his place by
the fire and going into the shack. He soon returned with Jason’s coat. “Here
man, put this on,” he instructed. “You ought to know better than to be running
around in the cold without a coat on.” They both gave a quiet laugh, each
knowing full well why Jason had been running around without a coat on.

“So
did you ransack my shack?” Jason asked after Tyler had set back down.

“Yes,”
the horseman responded. “I did.”

“Why?”
Jason asked earnestly as he was handed the cup of soup.

“Sip
on that easy for a while,” Tyler instructed. “Don’t make yourself sick.”

A
silence filled the air for a few moments before Tyler began to answer Jason’s
question. “I did everything I could to make you quit,” he explained, “both
mentally and physically. The running was the physical part. The negative things
I said and messing up you shack then blaming you were the mental.”

“Why
did you want me to quit so bad?” Jason questioned.

“I
didn’t want you to quit, Jason,” the tall cowboy explained. “I wanted you to
not
quit.”

Jason
was beginning to understand. “So how did I do?” he asked.

“Not
bad,” Tyler responded. “I do believe you would’ve kept marching around that
circle until you dropped dead. Never have seen anybody make so many laps in
such a short time.”

Jason
spewed out some of his soup. “Then why were you ridding me so hard?” he
demanded. “I felt like I was losing the entire time.”

“Winning
or losing was not the point of today,” Tyler explained calmly. “Not quitting
was. I wanted to see how far you’d be willing to go for love. You seem to be
willing to take it to the grave. Let’s hope that’s not necessary,” he added
with a smile. “Just to the Tombstone.” He paused for a moment, staring into the
flames. “We must all reach a point in our lives where we become unwilling to
give up – not on ourselves,” he turned to Jason, “not on the ones we love.”

“When
was that point for you?” Jason asked.

A distant
look came over Tyler’s features as he gazed off, it would seem, into the past
itself. “That’s a whole different story,” he sighed. “Another life, another
time… a lifetime ago.”

The
moon shone gently down, surrounded by the stars of heaven. Floating embers rose
upwards as if wishing to join the moon and stars in the task of lighting the
night sky. The cool air surrounded him, but Jason was warm on the inside.
Partly from the effects of sipping on the hot soup as he sat by the fire, and
partly from the contentment of knowing he had been found worthy, not by
ordinary men who set and judge others in what they themselves could not
accomplish but by a man who had himself been tested.

The
sun shone brightly through the window by Jason’s bed, warming his face.
Finally, he opened his eyes and stiffly set up, scooting back against the
headboard. The old spring mattress creaked and popped, having been disturbed
from a night of peaceful quiet. Jason felt a bolt of pain surge through his body
as he raised a hand to his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Outside a
bird sang a sunny song of early spring, and off in the distance, a horse
nickered.

Jason
jerked at the sound. Feed the horses at five! The sun was up! He was so late!
He glanced at his phone… five minutes after eight!

“Oh
no!” he cried out in panic. It was a chaotic few minutes as clothes were
snatched up, pulled up, buttoned up, zipped up and put on. Jason was breathing hard,
labored breathes, forcing his muscles to work in spite of their painful
protest. Tyler was going to be furious. Jason flung the door open and charged
wild-eyed from the shack down the hill.

“Man,
you didn’t get enough
runnin
’ in yesterday?” Rye
called out as Jason zipped by.

Jason
skidded to a halt, and the horse Rye was on snorted and leapt back in fear.
“I’m so late,” Jason exclaimed in a distraught voice. “My alarm didn’t go off.
Tyler’s going to kill me.” He paused for a moment before asking, “Is he mad?”

“Doesn’t
seem to be,” Rye commented. “He’s down there cleaning stalls. Go ask him.”

Jason
began running that way again, slowing to a fast walk as he got close to the
horses, not wanting to spook them and make his bad situation worse. He rounded
a corner of the barn and spotted Tyler lining up on the manure spreader with a
wheel-barrel full of horse manure.

“Sorry
I’m late,” Jason called out his apology for a distance, halting Tyler from
charging towards his goal. The tall horseman turned and looked at him as he
approached. He had already been warned about oversleeping and being late.
Jason’s only hope was in the big cowboy understanding. “I didn’t hear my alarm
go off,” he added when he got over to where Tyler was standing.

“That’s
because I slipped in after you went to sleep last night and turned it off,”
Tyler explained as he looked at Jason like that was a perfectly logical thing
to do. Jason didn’t understand. “After yesterday, I’m giving you the day off,”
the horseman explained simply.

That
was certainly not what Jason had expected. “The whole day?” he asked, surprised.

“Yep,
what’s left of it,” Tyler replied as he charged at the manure spreader with his
wheel-barrel load of poop.

Thirty
minutes later, after Jason had gone to the ranch house, showered and put on
clean clothes, he hopped into his truck, drove down to the stalls, promised
Tyler he’d be back before dark and headed in a homeward direction. He had
something on his mind – something to investigate. The night before last, when
he’d seen Misty in his dream being led captive by the wolves, something was
missing. Also, something had been missing last night down in the pit when she
had clung to him and seemed to be so real. Jason hadn’t been able to put his
finger on it at first – but it had finally come to him. She hadn’t been wearing
her necklace. Misty always wore her necklace, and the night of her kidnapping
had been no exception. Jason knew he was far from a superstitious man, but the
fact that it had been missing in both dreams kept nagging at him. It wouldn’t
hurt to check.

Several
hours later, he was sitting in his truck looking into the park where the
kidnapping had occurred. Opening his truck-door, he began walking rapidly over
towards the merry-go-round. Several pieces of crime scene tape still fluttered
in the wind surrounding the area. School had not yet let out for the summer,
thankfully, so no kids were running around asking Jason questions as he got
down on all fours and began sifting through the sand.

He
searched through the sand for what seemed like forever. Finally, he sat up. It
was useless – like looking for a needle in a hay stack… if the needle had even
been dropped in the hay stack, that is. He had made wider and wider circles
around the merry-go-round. No necklace. Nothing. Tears threatened to fight
their way from his eyes as he turned back towards the truck. No tears. He
wasn’t going to cry.

Halfway
back to his truck, something caught Jason’s eye. A dull shine came from the
base of a bush off to Jason’s right, causing his heart to leap as a slight hope
returned. The shiny object was almost completely covered by soil. Jason walked
over to it, ran his fingers into the sand and grasped a big handful. After he
sifted some of the dirt away, what was revealed made him give a victorious
shout. It was the necklace!

“Thank
you,” Jason voiced his gratitude in a heavenward direction. Maybe there really
was a God who cares up there somewhere.

With
his free hand, Jason grasped both ends of the broken chain and drew the locket
up to eye level. He wanted to grasp it, kiss it and hold it close to his heart
but, instead, he pulled a napkin from his pocket, which he had brought along
for this exact purpose, into which he placed the necklace before sticking it
into his pocket.

Unable
to contain the excitement, Jason rushed to his truck. He had to get this to the
police station! Maybe he could skirt around the sheriff and talk to Jenny.
Hopefully, she could point him to whoever checked stuff for fingerprints. The
chances of getting anything off of it were about as good as the chance of
finding the necklace… but then again he
had
found the necklace.

Jason’s
phone began to ring. “Hello,” he answered.

“Jason,”
a familiar voice spoke. “This is Sheriff Victor. We need you to come down to
the station at one o’clock to look over a lineup. I think we caught one of the
kidnappers.”

“Okay,”
Jason said in surprise. “I’ll be there.”

A
little while later, he pulled into the parking lot across the street from the
police station, got out and made his way across the road and on inside. The
door to Jenny’s office was open when Jason came to it, so he just poked his
head in. He saw the eccentric sketch artist standing bent over her desk,
studying something.

“Hey
Jenny,” Jason spoke quietly to get her attention.

“Oh… hi,”
Jenny replied with reservation, likely due to Jason’s rude behavior the last
time they’d met.

“Look
Jenny,” Jason said uneasily. “I feel like I owe you an apology. I just, um,
I’m, uh…” This was going to be more difficult than he had imagined.  “The
things I said about the drunk man, Donald, when I was in your office last – I
was just running my mouth. I’m sorry. I have a tendency to misjudge people.”

Jenny
was silent for a moment as she studied him. Seeing he was sincere, she smiled.
“That’s okay,” she said kindly. “Unfortunately, misjudgment is a common
problem.”

Jason
returned her smile and nodded his head in agreement. It did seem to be that
way. “So what’s his story?” he asked.

Jenny
let out a sad sigh. “We grew up together. I always admired him from afar,” she
said with a roll of her eyes, like that was her usual way of admiring things.
“When he finished school, he went to work at a steel mill over on the other
side of town and eventually ended up owning it. He soon became one of this
town’s wealthiest and most respected men. He married his high school
sweetheart, and her beauty and the love that they shared was nothing short of
legendary. He had everything going for him… but then,” she paused and sniffed
as a tear trickled down her cheek, “he, he – he lost everything. His wife was
killed in a car wreck and he just,” she sighed, trying to compose herself, “he
just lost everything… When she died, he quit living. He sold his steel mill for
basically nothing and gave their house to a charity – told folks he couldn’t
live there without her.” Jason knew the feeling.

She
shook her head and wiped the moisture from her eyes before going on. “He just
moved out into that dirty ole’ alley, and he’s been using the money he has left
to try and wash her memory away, ever since,” she paused for a moment and
sighed. “Poor man, I think he knows the truth. The truth is, you can never
forget true love – so all he knows to do is dull the pain.”

Jason
leaned back and sighed. Knowing Donald’s story certainly changed the way he
viewed him.

Jenny
shook her head and ran her fingers through her brown hair. A stray strand
flopped over one eye and, in retaliation, she shaped her bottom lip upward and
blew it out of her face. “So what brings you here?” she asked, giving Jason a
little smile.

“I
have a surprise for you,” he replied as he pulled the napkin from his pocket,
laid it on the desk and unfolded it.

Jenny
clasped her hands together, and her eyes lit up when she saw the locket. “For
me?” she asked excitedly.

“Oh,
um, no,” Jason stammered. “Sorry. Um, my fault. I worded that wrong. This isn’t
for you. It belongs to my wife.”

“Then
how could you give it away?” Jenny asked, unable to comprehend his complete
lack of sentimentality.

“I’m
not giving it away,” Jason explained quickly. “It was on her neck the night she
was kidnapped. I found it today at the park where it all happened and was
hoping someone here could get some prints off of it. Can you point me in the
right direction?”

“Sure,”
Jenny answered, then pointed… at herself?

“You?
You’re the…” he didn’t know the official name for someone who checks things for
prints. “You’re the print lady?” Jason asked confused. “But you’re the sketch
artist.”

“Prints
are my main job,” Jenny explained perkily. “I just do sketch artist whenever
needed. I told you I was a Jenny of all trades,” she said with a laugh, and
Jason joined in. Wow, what a talented woman.

It
was then that Jason looked down and noticed what she had been staring at on her
desk when he’d walked in. “That’s one of the kidnappers that I helped you
draw,” he said as he pointed at the drawing on her desk. He could recognize
that ugly face anywhere.

“Oh,
yes!” Jenny exclaimed. “We have him… here… locked up!” She did a little
shuffle. “It’s
gotta
be him! I just know it! He’s
almost a perfect match for the drawing.” Her eyes were bright and filled with
life as she pointed at herself and proclaimed, “I am good.”

She
suddenly froze in the middle of her self-praise, looking at Jason. “Oh, oh,”
she danced, “I have an idea. You should take a look at him while you’re here!”

“I’m
supposed to pick him out of a line up at one,” Jason explained before looking
up at a clock on the wall. “Better get headed that way,” he added.

“Okay…
bye!” Jenny waved energetically.

As
Jason turned towards the door, he spotted the sheriff and deputy walking by.
“Sheriff Victor,” he called out.

“Jason,”
the sheriff greeted kindly enough. “Glad you’re here. Follow me.”

Sheriff
Victor led the way down the hall, turning into the room where they’d stood and
looked in on the drunk, whom Jason now knew as Donald, through the glass. Today
the other room was pitch-black. Deputy Andrews followed them in, closing the
door behind him. Sheriff Victor gave a nod and the deputy flipped a switch,
turning a light on in the interrogation room. As Jason looked through the
glass, his heart leapt.

“Any
of them look familiar?” the sheriff asked as he cast a glance at Jason.

Memories
from that night flooded Jason’s mind. He stood silent.

“Jason?”
Sheriff Victor’s voice unfroze him.

“Um,
third one from the right,” Jason said as he gazed through the glass at the
predator. With the ugly face and bent nose, there was no mistake.

“Has
he given you any information?” Jason asked hopefully. “Does he know where my
wife is?” There was a pleading sound to his voice.

The
sheriff opened the door and motioned with his head for Andrews to go out. The
moment the deputy left, he shut the door, leaving only him and Jason alone in
the room. The hair stood up on the back of Jason’s neck.

“No,
he hasn’t,” Victor replied in a cold voice, “hasn’t told us where your wife is
– hasn’t told us anything about the case… As a matter of fact, he has an air
tight alibi. He wasn’t anywhere close to the park on the night of the
kidnapping. Wasn’t even in town.”

“What?”
Jason asked, bewildered. “That’s not possible. I saw him – no mistake.”

“You
calling me a liar?” the sheriff asked flatly as he turned away from Jason and
gazed through the glass at the row of men.

“What
is this air tight alibi of his?” Jason demanded.

Victor
ignored his question. “Where were you on the night of the kidnapping?” he asked
in a professional sounding voice.

“What?
Are you serious?” Jason asked in bewilderment. “I was
at
the
kidnapping,” he stressed, “watching my wife be kidnapped… by the kidnappers –
You know, the ones who kidnapped her.” He paused for a moment then asked, “What
part of this do you not understand?”