Stone of Vengeance (14 page)

With Pauley’s last statement replaying in her mind, Kate pulled on to the highway. Kate had ruined everything: what
on earth could Pauley mean by that? Was he referring to her being on the trail of Barton and her making the connection between the Bar 8 and Sam Swen?

The only way she could prove Barton was involved was to find the stolen cattle which, according to her calculations, must still be at the Bar 8 Ranch. But it would take nerve to go out there alone, knowing as she did, that right now Pauley would be on the phone to Swen.

Still, she had a time advantage. With Swen and his crew in Rock Creek, she would be able to reach the Bar 8 at least an hour before them. Pauley might, however, alert Slim Barton, but she wouldn’t consider that now. She would think only about grasping what was beginning to look like her last opportunity.

Slim Barton’s ranch, amid a rocky hillside, couldn’t be compared to the vast, rich spreads of either Swen or Kingsley. It consisted of a run-down wood-frame house, an ancient barn with a sagging roof and a few dilapidated outbuildings. To Kate’s disappointment no cattle milled inside the corral or grazed in the grassland beyond it. As if unable to believe it, she drove around the Bar 8 pastureland again. He must have wised up, had already rebranded the stolen cattle and moved them out.

She had driven out here for nothing. Still, it couldn’t hurt to take a look around. A distance away from the house, she edged her Landcruiser into a thick grove of pine trees. She had to cross an open field on foot.

No one appeared to be anywhere around. Kate moved quickly but cautiously, like a soldier crossing into enemy
territory. She slipped into the barn where she drew her first deep breath since she had trespassed on Barton’s land.

Overhead, light streamed through gaps in the sagging roof, casting hazy streaks into the dimness. A strong odour of damp hay hung around her, mingling with scents of fuel and grease.

Kate moved towards an assortment of tools scattered on a workbench against the back wall. She stopped to examine a row of branding irons hung from pegs. Because the area, generally used to store equipment, was totally empty, Kate assumed she had found the secret workplace where Barton changed the stolen Hereford’s brands to his.

As Kate turned back to look for cattle restraints, she drew in her breath. Her heart seemed to jolt to a stop. Ty stood in the centre of the barn. The indirect glow from the open doors behind him made him look cold and sinister.

No look of surprise crossed his face. Clearly he knew she would be here. They must all work together, never out of contact, like some deadly army patrol. Pauley must have called Ty, just as he had called Swen that day her Landcruiser had crashed, just as Ty had called Swen telling him about the evidence she had found in the canyon. Swen, Ty, and Pauley – but Slim Barton could be included, too. Unless no one had called Ty, unless he often worked here, unless he rather than Swen headed the operation

Fear gripped her. ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked hollowly.

‘No, you tell me what you’re doing here.’

‘I’m checking out a theory of mine. I’ve been thinking that
Slim Barton may be Mary Ellen’s old boyfriend. She had one years ago, when she was sixteen or so, but Mr Kingsley wouldn’t allow her to marry him.’

Kate thought she noted some change in Ty, a slight narrowing of his eyes, a tightening of his lips. She hurried on, ‘He was a thief to begin with. He might be targeting the Kingsley ranch in order to settle an old score.’

Ty responded with a soft-spoken question. ‘After all these years?’

‘Resentment often grows deeper with time. You told me you were working for Swen then. Didn’t you ever run across this boy or hear his name mentioned?’

‘I know nothing about Mary Ellen’s personal life.’ Ty took a step closer. ‘I got a call from Pauley. He saw you start out this way and thought you might be heading for trouble.’

‘Then he … works with Swen, too?’

His rugged features showed no change this time, just remained hard and unreadable. ‘Of course.’

Kate thought with sinking heart about that day Ty and she had ridden their horses into the canyon. What if his interest had not been in her, but in saving Swen?

‘Kate, you’re getting deeper and deeper into danger. You must leave here at once. From now on you must stay completely out of this.’

‘I can’t.’

‘If you would only let us handle this. Pauley has been working directly with Swen. We’ve told him about the microchips we’ve embedded into our cattle, and he’s been waiting for them to show up. So far, none have. But once they
do, Swen will be cleared for good.’ A frown cut between his eyes. ‘Or so we thought. But now it looks as if this isn’t going to happen.’

‘Why not? Barton would have no way of knowing about the chips.’

‘Barton must have seen you at the auction and you scared him off. At least that’s what Pauley believes. And it is
beginning
to look as if he’s right, that Barton isn’t going to consign any more Herefords to Pauley’s auction.’

‘What has he done with the cattle he took the other night, then?’ Kate asked. ‘They’re not here.’

‘I’d say he sold them to a private individual. Or
transported
them to the ranch of some friend. At any rate, it’s clear he’s decided to lay low.’

Kate stared at him. If she believed Ty, then instead of solving the case, she had only been interfering. She had just kept Swen and Ty from catching Slim Barton. She had bungled, made another blunder that Jeff could add to his ever-growing list.

‘Don’t look so worried, Kate. We’re not beaten yet,’ Ty said. ‘We’ll think of some other way.…’

Ty’s words were stopped by the sound of an engine. He went to the entrance, flattened himself against the barn door, then ventured a look out.

Kate, followed suit, taking up a post on the other side of the doorway. An old truck rattled along, pulling to a jerky stop beside the house. Shaggy lengths of pale blond hair caught the wind as Slim Barton got out. He seemed alert to
some hidden danger. He remained with one hand on the open truck door as he looked around.

‘No, Ty.’ Kate caught Ty’s arm, but he effortlessly freed her grasp.

‘Stay in here,’ Ty said. He stepped outside, calling, ‘Barton!’

Slim Barton’s wiry form stiffened. Ty strode toward him. Kate, afraid of what might happen, remained immobile for a few seconds, then quickly followed.

‘You got scared, didn’t you, when you realized Swen and Pauley were on to you. So you disposed of the last load of stolen Herefords somewhere else.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘The fact that you’re too late. One of Swen’s microchips was found on cattle you consigned to Pauley’s. That’s why I’m here now.’

What was Ty thinking? No microchips had been found. Ty must be desperate believing a sly man like Barton would fall for anything like this.

‘That’s nonsense,’ Barton snapped.

Ty continued with his bluff, saying convincingly, ‘I brought the law with me.’ He nodded toward Kate. ‘You can explain to her how our cattle ended up with your brand.’

Barton didn’t answer, didn’t move. His words were steady as he said to Kate, ‘If this happened, if anything like that was found, I’ve been set up.’

‘Don’t even try it. Your partner has already pointed a finger at you.’

Another story Ty had just made up. Kate could do nothing
else but play along. ‘I’m going to ask you to accompany us back to Rock Creek.’

‘I’m not going anywhere. Garrison is the one behind this. He’s rigged this all up so he won’t be blamed himself.’

Ty took a threatening step closer, his hands clenching into fists. Kate drew in her breath. Surely Ty didn’t intend to attack Slim in the same way he had attacked Kingsley’s foreman when he had come to Swen’s ranch.

‘I know just how you robbed from both ranches,’ Ty said evenly. ‘I’d say it’s all over now, all over … but the hanging.’

Ty’s last words proved too much for Slim Barton. In panic, with the speed of a cat, Barton swung around, clawing and crawling his way back into the truck. Kate couldn’t see him. He must be pressed flat against the front seat. She caught no movement until the barrel of a rifle poked out the window.

‘Look out, Ty!’

She expected Ty to duck for cover, instead he lunged forward. He caught the gun barrel, wrested it away from Barton, and at the same time pulled open the door. As if Slim Barton were weightless, Ty jerked him from the cab and sent him sprawling across the ground.

‘I’ll keep an eye on him,’ Ty said, lifting Slim Barton’s gun and training it on him, ‘You go call the sheriff’s office.’

‘I want to talk to you,’ Jeff said, looking big and solid in his uniform.

Kate stepped into his office, and he firmly closed the door, shutting out the clamour from the next room.

‘I can’t believe this!’ he raged. ‘You don’t have a scrap of evidence against this man!’

Kate made no reply.

‘You told him some stupid lies you just pulled out of the air. Why? Why on earth did you do that?’

Kate started to say that she hadn’t lied to him, but changed her words. ‘We thought he might confess.’

‘Well, he didn’t. All you’ve got on him is the fact that he pulled a gun on you. But it was you and Garrison on his land, harassing him! Moreover, he didn’t even get off a shot. I’m booking him, all right, but he’ll be out of here in nothing flat.’

Jeff stared at her in that uncompromising way she so despised.

‘Is that all?’

‘No, there’s that and so much more!’ His voice had become hard and brittle. ‘What did you plan to do? Make a citizen’s arrest? Putting you on suspension didn’t stop you. You’re just plain out of control!’

Kate’s lack of reply fueled Jeff’s anger. ‘Did this ever occur to you: instead of Swen embedding microchips in his own cattle, he might be planting them into ones bearing Slim Barton’s brand to get himself off the hook.’

‘Or it could be we’ve caught the real rustler.’

Jeff seemed not to hear her. ‘Look at it this way. All along Swen’s been tormenting Kingsley by stealing from his herd. Now that Kingsley’s dead, so is his grudge against the Rocking C.’ Jeff paused, sucking in his breath. ‘Everyone believes Swen’s guilty because of that lawsuit. Now he wants
his name cleared. And what better way than to set up some poor rancher like Barton?’

‘I think you’re wrong about Swen, Jeff.’

‘It doesn’t matter what you think.’ He turned away. ‘Your position here is in serious jeopardy now, I want you to know that.’

‘There’s things more important to me than this job,’ Kate answered and left the sheriff’s office without looking back.

T
otally defeated, Kate spent a dreary evening in her apartment sorting through clues and coming up with absolutely nothing. She slept on the sofa, forms and notes stacked around her. Early the next morning she was jarred awake by the insistent ringing of her phone.

‘Kate, Swen here.’ Normally his words were weighted with burden and responsibility, but not this morning. ‘I’ve just talked to Ben at the hospital.’ Swen stopped for a moment, chuckling. ‘Told the old boy that next election I was of a mind to vote for you instead of him.’

‘How’s Ben doing?’

‘He’ll be fine,’ Swen replied, ‘if you can keep him away from the pastries.’ The merriment faded from his voice. ‘Kate, I’ve got some good news for you. I’ve heard from Sheffield’s Cattle Trade. My little plan hit pay dirt. Sheffield’s found two of my chips in the cattle Slim Barton consigned yesterday afternoon. Barton’s caught
red-handed
. Jeff’s at the sheriff’s office taking Barton’s statement now, so you’ll probably want to be on hand.’
Swen chuckled again. ‘Didn’t think you would want to miss out on all the fun.’

Inside the sheriff’s office Jeff and Lem were questioning Slim Barton. Jeff glanced up as Kate entered, his expression bearing no hint of the gruff, ‘what are you doing here?’ she had expected.

Barton, scared and shaken, slumped against the table. His face, drained of colour, blended with the shaggy strands of pale hair. ‘They’re trying to pin Kingsley’s murder on me,’ he said desperately.

‘You had motive,’ Lem cut in, his tone slow and certain. ‘All along you’ve been stealing from both ranches, pitting one against the other. Charles Kingsley found you out. That Monday night he caught you on his land, dragged you into his study and confronted you. He intended to call us, to hold you at gunpoint until we arrived. You managed to get his revolver away from him and used it to shoot him. You put that stone under Kingsley’s head to lead us off track, to make his murder look like revenge. You knew we wouldn’t have to look far, only down the road to find an enemy.’

‘I’m no killer!’

‘Then how do you explain shooting me?’ Kate asked.

‘That bullet hit right where I was aiming, for your shoulder not for your heart. I’m a crack shot. Ask anyone.’ Barton’s angry eyes met hers. ‘I just meant to scare you away. If I’d wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be standing here right now.’

Barton stopped short, realizing what he had said amounted to a confession concerning the rustling charge.

‘Who are you working with?’ Kate demanded.

‘I’m not saying another word. I need a lawyer.’

‘That you do,’ Lem replied, rising and escorting Barton towards the phone in the outer office.

‘Nothing connects me with the old man’s death!’ he shouted back at Kate. ‘I was just trying to make ends meet. You might get me for selling a little beef on the side, but never for murder.’

‘I’d say you’re lucky the way things turned out,’ Jeff said after they had left. ‘The way you handled this, it could have ended in disaster. Your going out and confronting Barton without any proof was just plain reckless.’

Kate had never intended that to happen: Ty had done that on his own. She made no comment, just asked, ‘What about my job? Do I still have one?’

‘That’s not up to me; that’s Ben’s decision. You broke the rules and you know what a stickler he is for rules.’

Kate started for the door. ‘Barton’s right, you know. We’ll never be able to charge him with Kingsley’s murder. It will remain unsolved.’

‘Not a chance.’ Jeff smiled, radiating a high good spirit. ‘The county attorney will indict him for everything. This case is closed.’

Jeff might be satisfied that Slim Barton had been working alone rustling cattle from both Kingsley and Swen, but Kate had deep misgivings. If Kingsley had uncovered the true cattle rustler and confronted him, the broken glass on the door and the placement of the stone just didn’t follow. She still maintained that someone had come into the study to steal while Kingsley was safely out of the way.

The stone remained in Kate’s mind as it had from the first, a sign of bitter hatred. It had to have been placed by someone who knew about the feud between Swen and Kingsley and about the legend of Tom Horn, who had set beneath his victim’s heads what Swen referred to as a “stone of vengeance”.

Slim Barton was no history buff. She doubted he would ever think of setting up Swen in this way.

For a while Kate drove around aimlessly, then found herself heading for the Kingsley ranch.

‘Jennie. It’s Kate.’ No one answered, still Kate pushed open the door whose shattered glass had finally been replaced. Jennie sat behind Kingsley’s desk, slumped in his big leather chair, a place that seemed to give her comfort. She huddled, arms pressing a heavy, turquoise-coloured jacket close around her as if attempting to ward off a terrible chill.

Jennie stared straight ahead, as if at nothing. Kate watched her silently until Jennie became aware of her
presence
and looked up.

‘Have you heard about Slim Barton’s arrest?’

‘Yes, Swen called me.’ Jennie’s usually smiling lips
tightened
into a drawn line, making her look much older than her years. ‘It’s all over,’ she said solemnly. ‘But it will never be over.’ Tears brimmed in her eyes. ‘Charles is gone, and what am I ever going to do without him?’

‘You’ll carry on,’ Kate said encouragingly. ‘Just like Mr Kingsley would have done.’

‘Mary Ellen is upstairs in her room. Someone should let
her know. She’s going to be leaving today, I think.’ Jennie sank even deeper in her chair, as if the task of telling Mary Ellen about the crime was too much for her.

‘I’ll talk to Mary Ellen if you want me to.’

‘Would you, Kate?’

Not comfortable with leaving Jennie alone, Kate decided to remain a while. She walked uneasily around the office and drew to a stop in front of the invitation to Tom Horn’s hanging. From the first Kate had suspected this unusual collector’s relic had been a catalyst for the crime, the key to Kingsley’s death.

For a long time she stared at it, wondering how it fit in. At first she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. The invitation seemed to sit just a shade out of line in the frame, as if it had shifted slightly to the right. Most people wouldn’t even notice the barely perceptible difference, but Kate’s trained eyes saw every detail. Moreover, the frame itself, which had been hanging crooked, was now perfectly aligned. Without doubt, someone had tampered ever so minutely with both the inside and the outside of the document. Kate leaned closer, noticing yet another change: the paper looked in perfect condition. Too perfect. She gave a little start of surprise. The tiny crease she had noticed in the far left corner had totally disappeared.

Aware of Jennie’s soft sobbing from behind her, Kate began to read the flowing, ink-penned letter.

‘
You are requested to be present at the legal execution of Tom Horn.
’ She skimmed every line, her gaze locking on the word
SHERIFF
at the end. The tiny inkblot just above the ‘I’ in
this word was gone. Kate drew in her breath. The original invitation had been replaced with an almost identical forgery!

She whirled to tell this to Jennie. At the same time Jennie, startled, swivelled in the chair to face her. As she did, she released her hold on her jacket and it fell open. Around Jennie’s neck hung a necklace. Kate stared at the black
background
where red and blue beads formed an unusual geometric design – Sioux – a perfect match to the earring found in the truck that had crashed into her squad car.

Kate stared at Jennie aghast, not seeing tears, but instead imagining a triumphant smile. For a moment she felt deep shock. Kate had helped convince Jeff that Swen wasn’t involved, but what if she had been wrong? If Swen and Jennie had been working together to set all of this up, they now controlled two of Wyoming’s largest spreads.

‘What’s wrong, Kate?’

Kate stared at her, attempting to deal with these chilling thoughts and suddenly dismissing them as having no logic: Jennie would not wear the very necklace that matched the earring she would surely know she had lost the night of the crash.

Kate turned quickly away. ‘I’m going up to tell Mary Ellen now.’

Kate climbed the curving, wooden stairway to the second storey, her hasty steps causing a creaking in the floorboards. She reached Mary Ellen’s door, tapping anxiously. When no one answered, she opened it a crack. ‘Mary Ellen?’

Mary Ellen had already started to pack. On the bed in
front of the near-empty closet a large canvas suitcase gaped open. On top of a neat row of clothes lay a curling iron, a package wrapped in brown paper and several plastic bags. Mary Ellen must be in another part of the house, taking care of some unfinished task.

Kate skimmed the room where Mary Ellen had spent most of her life. Rows of leather-bound books set in a case beside the bed, classic romantic novels,
The Great Gatsby, Wuthering Heights
. She had been emptying drawers, clutter set in little stacks on the dresser. Nothing suggested a life other than the ranch except for the small, heart-shaped picture frame that lay face-down. Kate knew before she lifted the picture that it would be a photograph of Mary Ellen’s one true love, the boy Kingsley had chased away. She wondered if it would turn out to be Slim Barton. Kate reached for the picture.

Struck with a horrible thought, Kate felt suddenly
reluctant
to turn it over. In the silence she recalled Jeff’s words, how Kingsley had once filed a restraining order against Ty. She had thought at the time that Ty had merely been
trespassing
on Kingsley’s land, but now it occurred to her that he, not Slim, could have been Mary Ellen’s long-lost boyfriend.

Kate hesitated. If she lifted the frame, would she see a younger version of Slim Barton, or Ty as he had looked when he had worked for Swen many years ago? Carefully she raised the small heart and turned it around. She stared down at a teenage boy, a rebellious-looking youth with shaggy hair and a surly expression.

Kate drew in a gasp. She stared in amazement at a face
she recognized, but one she hadn’t expected to see. Even though the man’s outer appearance had altered from the sullen teenager in the picture: his hair with sandy cast instead of dark, the bold eyes remained the same. Jake Pierson, now a curator at the local museum, had undergone a great change from the wild adolescent Kingsley had prohibited his niece from marrying years ago. This discovery, this connection, made all the information Kate had gathered about the case snap together.

‘What are you doing in my room?’

Mary Ellen entered cautiously, placing on the dresser some object wrapped in a tan sweater. She was dressed in the same outfit she had worn when she had visited Pierson at the museum. Her chic clothing and carefully styled hair contrasted sharply with the unflattering glasses, that today she had not changed to contacts.

‘You have no right snooping in my room.’

‘I didn’t know you were leaving today,’ Kate said, laying the photograph on the bed beside the suitcase. As she did, her eyes lighted on the package wrapped in brown paper she had noticed earlier. This time she noted the shape of it, oblong, like a sheet of paper, the exact size of the frame downstairs that held the famous Tom Horn document.

‘So you’ve come to say goodbye,’ Mary Ellen said
snappishly
. ‘How sweet. But as you can see, I’m busy packing. Jake will be here in a few minutes, and we’re leaving together. For good.’

‘I’m afraid you’re going to have to stay a while longer,’ Kate returned.

Mary Ellen gave an irritable wave of her hand as if trying to brush Kate’s words aside. ‘I have to be ready when he gets here.’

Kate stood poised over the suitcase. ‘First I want to see what’s in that package.’

‘What are you searching for? You’ll find nothing in there.’

‘Then you won’t mind if I take a look.’ Quickly Kate snatched up the package, ripped the brown paper away, and revealed the framed document. ‘This is the original
invitation
to Tom Horn’s hanging. The one on the wall downstairs is a fake, a fake made by your boyfriend Jake Pierson.’

Mary Ellen looked stunned and lost, her large eyes draining of light and becoming singularly empty. ‘Jake was always so smart,’ she said in a quiet little voice. ‘He loves everything that has to do with history, especially the legend of Tom Horn.’ She added mournfully, ‘That’s what caused all the trouble for us years ago. Jake got drunk one night and broke into the house so he could steal it. But my uncle caught him and told him he was never to set foot on Rocking C property, and that he was never ever to see me again. If he so much as called me, my uncle was going to bring charges against him.’

‘But he did return here.’

‘He came back three years ago, so changed I would scarcely have known him. He had gone back to school, said he wanted to be able to offer me security so we could marry.’ She drew herself up in a proud, but pathetic way. ‘People around here think I don’t have a life, but I do. Jake and I picked up right where we left off so many years ago.’

‘I wanted to marry him right away, but because of Uncle Charles’ heart condition, Jake insisted that we wait. He said after all I’d put up with I deserved to inherit Uncle Charles’ ranch.’

‘The day he died, your uncle called you from Casper telling you he’d got married over the weekend.’

‘He married her just to spite me,’ Mary Ellen spat out. ‘He’d found out Jake had come back to town and that I was seeing him again. After all the time and work I put in here, he planned to just disinherit me, to marry that floozy
downstairs
and cut me out with nothing.’

Kate waited, afraid that any prompting from her would stop the explanations that seemed to be pouring
automatically
from Mary Ellen’s lips.

‘I called Jake and told him what Charles had done and that I was going up to Casper to talk to him that evening. When Jake heard I’d been disinherited, he flew into a rage, said Uncle Charles had wrecked all of our plans again.’