Stone of Vengeance (10 page)

Lem rose, ambled over to the coffee maker, and filled a paper cup. ‘Another curious thing, Jeff ran across that same man on the road the night you were shot. He stopped him
near the canyon. He confiscated the .22 Winchester rifle Barton kept on a rack behind the seat of his truck.’

Lem went on with his accustomed slowness, ‘We now have Barton’s Winchester as well as Swen’s old clip-style Marlin, and the pistol Garrison was carrying. If we could find a bullet or a shell casing to run through ballistics, we’d know which man shot at you.’

Finding such small objects in that vast, heavily wooded terrain sounded impossible, still, Kate decided that the first chance she got, she would hunt for evidence herself. After all, she would have the best chance of locating the places where the shots had been fired. Noticing that Lem was waiting for some response from her, she said, ‘But so far we have nothing?’

‘Nothing of importance.’

‘Jeff and I went back out to the canyon this morning. All we could tell is that it looks as if they had taken that cattle pen down a time or two, as if they were in the habit of changing locations.’

‘What about tyre tracks?’

‘They must have done a speedy cover-up. The dirt around the corral had been swept clean. I think the shooter made it a point to retrieve the bullets and cartridge cases. He certainly wouldn’t want to run the risk of leaving something behind that would point right to him.’

‘So,’ Kate began, ‘the evidence is.…’

‘Non-existent.’ Jeff finished her sentence. He paused significantly, somewhat arrogantly, before he strode into the room.

‘Or not found by us yet.’

Kate hadn’t intended her statement to irritate him, but he gave a snappish reply. ‘You’re not the only competent one here. There’s absolutely nothing out there. Regardless, it’s no secret who shot you. Either Sam Swen, himself, or his
accomplice
, Garrison.’

‘I’d like to take a look for myself.’

‘We’ve had enough of your one-man,’ he stopped,
backtracked
, and started again in the same surly way, ‘we’ve had enough of your one-woman show. From now on, I handle things.’

Lem’s slow drawl did nothing to soothe the mounting tension. ‘You could just hear her out, Jeff. She’s done a heap of a lot of work on this case.’

‘Let’s see, just what has she done?’ Jeff ticked Kate’s mistakes off on his fingers, ‘Wrecked the squad car, dated the prime suspect, got herself shot.…’

Lem spoke up in her behalf again. ‘Let’s be fair, Jeff.’

‘No, let’s be truthful. We almost lost Kate because she can’t follow simple orders. And because she can’t, Ben handed her job over to me.’

How would she ever be able to put up with his insufferable attitude? ‘Ben may have put you in charge, but he didn’t take me off the case.’

Almost no one ever opposed Jeff, but now she had added her challenge to Lem’s and that, she realized, had been a big mistake.

Jeff spoke acidly, ‘Ben didn’t take you off the case, but I am.’ He turned his back on her and headed to his desk.

Lem set down his coffee cup, spilling liquid as he did. ‘Stop it, Jeff, we’ve got enough trouble. We don’t need you two
bickering
.’

Jeff addressed Lem as if Kate had left the room. ‘She needs to learn to be a team player, or she’s no good to us,’ he said with great bitterness. ‘Besides, what’s she thinking, trying to go back to work already?’ He directed his next words to her. ‘Just go home.’

No reply she made would change his mind. Kate swung away from them and headed to the door. Jeff’s words
thundered
after her.

‘I’m putting you on leave for the next three days. And if I find you meddling in any way, you’ll answer to me.’

Kate firmly closed the door between them, but that did not block out his words.

‘You’re off this case, and that’s final. Consider yourself warned.’

Smouldering with resentment, Kate left the building and almost collided with Sam Swen.

‘Whoa.’ He drew to a quick stop, touching the brim of his hat, greeting her in an appealing, old-fashioned way. ‘You must be hot on another lead.’

‘I’m not, but are you?’

The two regarded each other, Kate picturing how he had looked that evening in the canyon, rifle in hand. She felt afraid of him, just as anyone who was foolish enough to get in his way.

‘I’m just reporting into the sheriff’s office like I was told to do. Jeff just won’t give up, even though I’ve already told him everything I know.’

‘You must have left your ranch Sunday evening the same time I did.’

‘Yes. I went directly out to that spot on Kingsley’s land marked with an x, the one you showed me. By the way, thanks for sharing that information. I’m sure no one expected me ever to lay eyes on that map.’

Another mistake of hers Jeff could add to his tally, Kate thought, but made no comment.

Swen went on, ‘I kept asking myself: why would anyone mark my map and leave it in my truck? There seems to be only one answer.’ His grey eyes narrowed. ‘You may have been right when you suggested one of my own men might be involved. I may have hired a hand that works for Kingsley, albeit not a very clever one.’

Swen straightened his shoulders in a way that caused her to picture him aiming a rifle and pulling the trigger. ‘He’ll need heaven’s help if I ever find him.’

‘You can’t.…’

‘Can’t what? Retaliate? Your question reminds me of a line from Macbeth, “Let us be beaten if we cannot fight”.’

‘Look what happened to Macbeth.’

‘That was because of his wife,’ Swen said, lightening a little, ‘and I’m lucky enough not to have one.’

‘You must have thought you would encounter someone on Kingsley’s property that night. Which explains why you took a gun with you.’

‘A man who goes to war takes a weapon.’

‘It’s not up to you to do battle. That’s our job.’

‘There’s many ways to fight,’ he replied. ‘I’m working on
something now that will work … eventually.’

‘What?’

‘You’ll be the first to know … when it happens. In the meantime, I’d suggest you do some checking on Slim Barton, who is probably working with Kingsley’s foreman. Barton’s been buying up land along the Colorado border.’

Kate waited for him to go on.

‘Lots of it,’ Swen said, then added adamantly, ‘You tell me, how a two-bit operator like Slim Barton, fresh out of the state prison without a penny is able to pay cash in hand for vast stretches of good pasture.’ Swen paused, then added, ‘I’d better go on in. You’re not working yet, I suppose.’

‘No.’

Swen started toward the building.

‘Swen, you can’t take the law into your own hands.’

‘I won’t need to,’ Swen replied. ‘Like Tom Horn, these rustlers will soon be weaving a rope for their own hanging.’

Feeling upset over the implications of Swen’s
conversation
and over Jeff’s decision to remove her from the case, Kate crossed the street to Tumbleweed Café and ordered a cup of coffee. She clamped her ice-cold hands around the warm mug and wondered what on earth she was going to do now.

How could she just give up this case,
her
case?

She had been thrilled when Ben had singled her out for leadership’ as fit to be his replacement. That moment of success had crumbled around her and left her helpless to pick up the pieces. She couldn’t appeal to Ben for he would only agree with Jeff. If she didn’t comply with Jeff’s
instructions
,
it would mean she would be dismissed as a deputy in the Belle County sheriff’s department.

Kate stared morosely from the window-watching, yet removed from the quiet early-morning lull. A woman hurried past the restaurant. Jennie Kingsley, Kate thought, noting the stylish Western hat, the short denim skirt and
embroidered
blouse and vest. No, this lady was too tall, too thin, and too young to be Kingsley’s new bride.

The woman turned her head slightly, and with a jolt Kate recognized Mary Ellen. She must be taking fashion lessons from her new aunt. She had tinted her hair, for the light strands that escaped from her hat brim waved Jennie-style around her face. Hooped earrings, inlaid with turquoise, bobbed with every step. Kate stared at her, amazed. What a change from the shy, frightened person she had questioned at the ranch. Only the high-heeled boots, which made her gait coltishly awkward, were reminiscent of the old Mary Ellen Kingsley.

Where could she be going dressed up to the nines, as if for some important date? Curious, Kate paid for her coffee and left the café. She reached the street just in time to see Mary Ellen entering the Belle County museum.

Mary Ellen and Jake Pierson stood in the dim recesses near the displays talking in hushed voices. Kate caught Mary Ellen’s words as she entered. ‘I just don’t like what’s happening. I think I should have left right away.’

The curator reached out for her hand and squeezed it tightly. At that moment Mary Ellen looked toward Kate, her eyes, void today of glasses, becoming wide and startled.

‘Hi, Mary Ellen, Mr Pierson.’

The curator dropped his hand quickly to his side. Mary Ellen forced a smile. Of course she had heard about what had happened to Kate, but she didn’t mention it.

Today, plain Mary Ellen gave the illusion of beauty. At any rate, she had managed to elicit the special attention of the attractive curator, Jake Pierson. Kate looked from one to the other, realization sinking in. The clothing and new hairdo were obviously for his benefit. She had assumed Mary Ellen and her boss were just good friends, but the special smile she had seen pass between them made her see for the first time evidence of budding romance.

‘What are you doing here?’ Mary Ellen asked, seeming embarrassed.

Kate looked from one to the other. ‘I just saw you walking by the café, Mary Ellen, and thought it would save me a trip. I wanted to ask you about Sunday, the night I was shot.’

‘Ask me?’ Mary Ellen glanced fearfully toward Pierson, as if incapable of responding on her own.

‘She wouldn’t know anything about the whereabouts of anyone,’ he answered protectively. ‘Mary Ellen attended the annual banquet for the Historical Society that night, which didn’t break up until around eleven o’clock.’

‘I guess that’s all I needed to know then. Unless you happened to have run into Hal Barkley or anyone who works for Kingsley’s that night and can give them an alibi as well.’

Mary Ellen glanced at Jake Pierson again, as if for courage, before she answered, ‘No, I didn’t see any of them.
Jake, I had better be going now. I only stopped by for a minute. I have to get back to the ranch.’

‘Don’t want to leave Jennie alone, do you?’ the curator remarked.

‘I’ve been making plans to move out,’ Mary Ellen explained to Kate. ‘Get a place of my own. But I just can’t bring myself to do it right now.’ Mary Ellen spoke sadly, as if she were making some huge sacrifice. ‘When I told Jennie of my plans she got so upset. She begged me not to go. She said she just couldn’t bear being alone right now.’

‘How long do you intend to stay at the ranch?’ Kate asked.

‘Until Jennie feels comfortable about my leaving.’

Although Mary Ellen didn’t glance toward Jake Pierson, she nevertheless addressed him as she walked to the door. ‘Don’t forget, Jennie told Hal she’s changed her mind about selling off some of Uncle Charles’ Western collection. I made a special trip in today so you would know. You should get your bid in first.’

Mary Ellen’s words surprised Kate. Jennie, from what she knew about her, would never consider parting with a single item of the Kingsley collection.

‘Quite a girl, that Mary Ellen,’ Jake Pierson said, still gazing toward the door she had just closed. ‘Here she is, willing to help Jennie when she wants so badly to get away from there.’

To Kate, Pierson’s words had a ring of falseness. Selflessness and Mary Ellen didn’t seem to pair off. In fact, Kate’s first impression of Kingsley’s niece was that she seemed far too self-centered to notice much that didn’t
directly concern her. Probably, her delay had more to do with some plan of her own that had temporarily gone awry.

‘It sure was good of Mary Ellen to drop by today,’ the curator said excitedly. ‘She’s always thinking of other people. She knows just how much I want that collection for our museum.’

Kate’s gaze moved automatically to the portrait of Tom Horn. In the stillness his painted eyes seemed to be trying to communicate some unspoken message.

K
ate was doing the same thing again – going off on her own, disobeying direct orders. When Jeff got wind of it, disaster was bound to follow. Even knowing this, unable to stop herself she continued driving towards Kingsley’s ranch.

According to Swen, Slim Barton was buying up land; according to Ty, a yellow-haired man had been working with the cattle thieves. If Swen and Ty weren’t guilty, if what they claimed was true, then Slim Barton had been the man who had shot her. But from what Kate knew about Barton, he lacked the brains and initiative to mastermind such a large-scale operation. He had to be working with someone else, someone who knew the ins and outs of both ranches. Kate’s thoughts turned to Kingsley’s foreman, Hal Barkley.

Luck smiled on her. Near the barn sat a pick-up truck with open bonnet. As she approached, Kate stopped to admire it: eggshell blue with a tasteful silver Rocking C emblazoned on the side.

As she came around to the front, she saw first a jean-clad
figure and a shock of blond hair. Because she had been thinking of Slim Barton, she drew in her breath sharply. But it wasn’t Slim who appeared all happy and smiling from under the bonnet.

‘Didn’t expect to see me working as a mechanic, did you?’ Jennie said, laughing. She laid aside a wrench and wiped greasy fingers on her jacket.

The sharp fresh air, the love of her work, added roses to her pale skin and a sparkle to her eyes. ‘There’s nothing this old gal can’t do. I was born roping and riding and.…’ she glanced down dubiously at the motor, ‘repairing trucks. Charles called this one mine. Said the colour was much too sissified for him.’

‘I’m looking for Hal Barkley. Do you know where I can find him?’

‘He headed home. Said he’d be tied up there this morning. Say, I’m about to stop for a coffee break, won’t you join me?’

‘Coffee sounds good.’

Jennie slanted a concerned glance toward Kate. ‘I heard about what happened to you. I’m sorry. I can’t believe there’s people like that in this world. But Hal told me he was up against a mean bunch.’

Sunlight flashed across Jennie’s earrings, tiny golden horseshoes dotted with diamonds.

‘I like your earrings,’ Kate said.

Jennie smiled. ‘Charles bought me these. I love earrings, but I’ve never had the guts to get my ears pierced, so they’re the clip-on kind. I’m always afraid of losing them.’

Anyone who would wear those, Kate thought, would be
sure to like the earring with the Indian design found in Swen’s truck. ‘I see you have a necklace to match.’

As Jennie proudly showed off the large silver horseshoe that hung from her neck, Kate knew she had been right in not mentioning the lost earring. A great possibility existed that the owner would not know where she had lost it and would someday, if it belonged to a set, wear the matching necklace.

Once inside, braced by strong hot coffee, Kate remarked, ‘I ran across Mary Ellen in town today. She looked … different.’

‘I saw her leaving. It’s weird,’ Jennie said. ‘She says she’s staying here for a while longer. But I don’t know why. I
actually
think the girl hates me.’

‘Hates you?’ Kate echoed. ‘Probably she’s just jealous. No doubt she wants to be popular the way you’ve always been.’

‘She could be if she’d get rid of that scowl. She needs to get out, mix with people.’

Kate thought of the museum curator. ‘I think she’s dating someone now.’

‘No, I doubt it. Charles used to say she’d dress up and stay away for long periods of time, just to make him worry about her. It’s crazy the way she won’t let go of the past. This animosity of hers has to do with Charles and springs from that drifter she loved so long ago and didn’t get to marry.’

Jennie took a long drink and set the mug aside. ‘Or maybe the answer is just plain weirdness. Do you know Mary Ellen was bent on breaking up every woman Charles even
considered
marrying? Why, you should have heard the terrible lies she started about Anna Marks. Mary Ellen finally succeeded
in breaking them up. That’s why Charles never even told her about us.’

‘I can’t imagine why you would ask her to stay on here then.’

‘Ask her? I just don’t want to toss her out, that’s all. With so much room and money, that would be so heartless. But all she does is sulk around and spy on me. I wish she would leave. The sooner the better.’

Kate thought of the meeting at the museum, of Mary Ellen’s words so contradictory to what Jennie was telling her now. She wasn’t sure which one of them to believe.

Kate finished her coffee. ‘I heard Mary Ellen telling Jake Pierson at the museum that you’re planning to sell some of your late husband’s Western memorabilia.’

‘She’s mistaken, then,’ Jennie said, lips tightening in
exasperation
. ‘Every item in that collection means as much to me as it did to Charles. I intend to take it all with me to my grave.’

Her choice of words under the circumstance caused Kate to cringe a little.

Kate studied her. Either Mary Ellen or Jennie was lying, but which one? Kate reminded herself that Jennie, a woman of the world, might be accustomed to relying on her sweet face, her innocent blue eyes to profit by being convincing.

Kate asked at last, ‘Are you keeping Hal Barkley on as foreman?’

‘Of course. Why on earth wouldn’t I? Hal’s a dear, takes all the burden from my shoulders.’

‘But you know all about the cattle rustling that’s been going on. Don’t you have any doubts about Barkley?’

‘No, Hal was Charles’ right-hand man. Charles thought the world of him and vice-versa. Charles always maintained that Swen was behind this, but I never believed that either. Might be some outfit from far off, just zeroing in on the two wealthiest ranches in the area.’

‘What do you know about a rodeo rider named Slim Barton?’

‘I remember him, from a long time ago. Slim won prize after prize, but that was back in my Rodeo Queen days. In fact, Charles hired him occasionally, when Slim fell on hard times. The rodeo life is a short-lived one. When Slim got washed up on the circuit, he started drinking, heard he even served some time in prison. But I think he’s trying to go straight. Slim has his own ranch about fifty miles south of here, near Colorado.’ Jennie stopped, breathless, ‘Why are you asking about him?’

Kate’s reply was lost to the opening of the front door. Jennie and she listened to the clank of high heels as they neared the kitchen.

Mary Ellen, looking chic and modern, poked her head into the room, beaming at Jennie. ‘How do you like my new outfit?’ She flashed Jennie a saccharine smile. ‘Just like the ones you wear.’ She stepped inside, giving a little whirl. ‘Thanks to you, I’m learning how to dress.’

Jennie’s lips parted in surprise.

‘I’ll get changed now,’ Mary Ellen sing-songed in a voice as chic as her new clothing, ‘so I can help with dinner.’

They listened to Mary Ellen’s steps ascending the stairs to her room.

Jennie shook her head, the movement causing light to reflect against her blond curls. ‘Help with dinner? That girl lazes around here most of the day expecting me to wait on her. To top it off, that’s the first pleasant words she’s spoken to me since I moved in.’

Jennie sank into a pensive silence before she continued. ‘And that last remark about buying clothes like mine. She’s made all those purchases just to get back at me, probably heard what I said about her the other day. I know what Charles meant now about how ugly and brooding that girl can be. Really, Kate, I can’t wait to see the last of her.’

More puzzled than before, Kate left the Rocking C and turned down the road that would take her to Hal Barkley’s home. Even though she knew she shouldn’t risk confronting Barkley alone, she drove in an obsessed way, as if she were powerless to do otherwise.

Who to trust and who not to? If she believed Swen, Barkley had a reputation for drinking and for
double-dealing
, which led her to Slim Barton, the shady character she had met in the tavern, who could well be working with Kingsley’s foreman to rustle cattle.

Barkley’s house bore a look of neglect, the peeled white paint, the crumbling steps and rotting boards on the porch.

Kate skimmed the yard, a jumble of old equipment and outbuildings. The area to the side of the barn looked like a graveyard for old vehicles. A battered cattle-truck, too small to be the one she had seen the night of the cattle rustling, was parked close to a sway-backed shed.

Kate cautiously approached the door, stillness answering
her knock. She waited, an eerie sensation of being watched steeling over her. Kate pounded on the door again, certain that someone stood inside, silently waiting, refusing to answer. Kate stepped back, glancing up towards the dark, upstairs windows. All remained hushed and motionless.

Kate thought about pushing open the door, but she did not. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t risk entering Barkley’s house without a search warrant. Kate paused uncertainly, then headed back to her car.

A low, ominous voice, one that seemed to come from nowhere, caused her to stop. ‘What are you doing here?’

Kate whirled around to see Slim Barton emerging from behind an old brown Chevy. The small, wiry man moved quickly toward her, blond hair stringing raggedly around his thin face. He looked even more evil than he had in the dim light of the Lazy Z tavern.

Kate, with sinking heart aware of the isolation, stood her ground. ‘I didn’t expect to find you here,’ she said evenly, as if trying to convince him or herself that she had nothing to fear.

Kate expected hostility, but Barton seemed to be making a grudging effort to be friendly. ‘Me? I drove all the way out here to look at that old boat motor Hal has for sale.’ He shrugged. ‘Should’ve known it’d be a wasted trip. Hal ain’t ever here.’ His thin lips stretched, but fell short of a smile. ‘Or if he is, he’s not answering the door.’

‘Do you know where he might be?’

Sullenness crept back into Slim’s voice. ‘How would I know? Do I look like his mother? He’s probably down at the bar.’

Feeling uneasy even though no threat had been made, Kate lost no time getting into her Landcruiser and leaving Barkley’s property. Slim Barton’s cold eyes remained on her as if from behind the sights of a gun.

Intending to connect with the road that would lead her back past Swen’s ranch, Kate turned north. She had just stopped at a crossroads when what she saw blotted out all thoughts of Slim Barton. She waited, clutching the wheel. Just ahead of her a pick-up truck, eggshell blue, was passing under the Double S sign. She got a flash of blonde hair and caught a clear glimpse of the silver Rocking C marking on the side.

Why was Jennie Kingsley going to Swen’s ranch? Answers swarmed around her. Swen and Jennie could have plotted this all along intending to end up with all of Charles Kingsley’s estate.

Kate drove closer, pulling to a stop behind a shield of trees.

If Jennie and Swen married, Swen would be in control of not only the Double S, but also of his sworn enemy’s ranch, the Rocking C. That would not only make him the richest rancher in Wyoming, but would also satisfy any desire the man might have had for vengeance.

But that wouldn’t be the only possibility, Kate reminded herself. Jennie could be working on her own or working with Barkley or Slim. Her next step could be to marry Swen, who had dated her in the past and was probably already
half-smitten
with her. Maybe in the end she intended to kill Sam Swen too, and own the whole valley herself.

Kate peered through the branches at the old colonial-style
mansion so much like Kingsley’s. Swen himself, silver-haired broad shouldered, answered the door. Jennie, in a happy familiar way slipped past him into the house.

A calculating gold-digger, is that what she was? Had she married Charles Kingsley for his money, then shot him in cold blood? Swen might need more protection from Jennie than from the cattle rustlers, who could also be working for her. Kate thought of Charles Kingsley, lying dead in his study and of the vast fortune that had overnight become Jennie’s. She thought of the stone that had been placed purposefully under Kingsley’s head as if its very presence served some mocking, sinister purpose.

Whether Jennie was working alone or with someone else, it was beginning to look as if Kate had been on the wrong track today. Instead of checking out Hal Barkley, she should have been focusing instead on Kingsley’s new widow.

Forgetting her injury, Kate rolled over on her side to answer the phone. ‘Kate Jepp.’

‘Good Morning, Kate.’

She immediately recognized Ty’s voice. More aware now of the catch in her breath rather than of the pain in her arm, she replied hesitantly. ‘Ty, I’ve been meaning to call you. To thank you for … for everything. I loved the flowers.’

‘I knew you would. How are you feeling?’

Again she paused, then said not too truthfully, ‘Back to normal.’

‘Good.’ Ty’s tone seemed to change mid-word, to become very serious. ‘I must see you today, Kate. It’s extremely
important
.
Could you drive out to Swen’s stables? You know where they are, don’t you? At the very end of the Double S land.’

Doubts assailed her, but before she could reply, Ty said, ‘I’ll expect you there by ten-thirty.’

Ty had hung up much too abruptly. Something must be wrong or else he had new information he intended to share with her. Kate hurriedly showered then rummaged through her clothes for a warm sweater and ran a brush through her tousled, dark hair. Kate knew she should not meet with Ty since Jeff had taken her off the case. She put aside her qualms. This meeting might turn out to be very important.

Kate was pleased to find the air outside warm and mellow. The haze of Indian summer hovered across the pastures, inflamed the trees along the draws with the brilliant colours of glowing fire. She drove past Swen’s ranch then on for mile after mile. His stables were part of a complex of steel
buildings
and sprawling bunkhouses, all enclosed by a white fence and a sign that read Double S.

Ty, inside a corral, was attempting to rein in a very ornery looking horse that resisted like some balky old mule. ‘Over here,’ he called.