Stone of Vengeance (8 page)

Swen’s look darkened. ‘I was just talking to Pauley on the cellphone. He said the law had just been out there asking questions about his operation. Appears you upset him.’

In silence Kate watched as he worked the jack.

‘Bolts didn’t break, at least that’s good,’ he said,
positioning
the spare tyre in place. ‘Now all we need are lug nuts. We’ll just borrow one from each of the other tyres. That’ll get you home, but make sure you remember to replace
them as soon as you get back into town. Hand me that tyre iron.’

Swen moved over to the driver’s side and knelt by the tyre there. When he looked up at her, a frown cut between his eyes, which again had narrowed and darkened. ‘Did you talk to anyone at the auction besides Pauley?’

‘Why do you ask that?’

‘Because from the looks of this, I’d say you made yourself an enemy.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean the lug nuts on this side are loose, too. This wasn’t any accident. Someone set you up.’

Swen rose slowly, features tight and hard, tyre iron still in hand. A perfect weapon, she thought, capable of crushing someone’s skull. Kate took an uneasy step backwards. For a moment, she found herself afraid of this powerful man who had stopped, supposedly to help her.

‘It’s a lonely road between Downing and Rock Creek,’ Swen said. ‘Not a lot of traffic. I’d say whoever did this might have wanted to catch you stranded out here alone.’

‘I haven’t seen anyone but you since I left town.’

Swen gazed down the road that would lead to Pauley’s Auction. ‘Trouble is, you don’t see people like that. But they see you. Anyway, I must have scared them off.’

He gathered the chain and the jack and placed it back in his truck before he spoke again. ‘Or maybe whoever did this just wanted to cause an accident, teach you a little lesson.’

A cold chill crept down Kate’s spine that had nothing to do with the strong wind that buffeted her jacket. Either way,
someone had sabotaged her Landcruiser as a warning for her to stay away from Pauley’s, to stop her investigation of the cattle rustling.

‘I’d say this was some kind of a friendly warning,’ Swen said. Swen remained ever the gentleman, but she sensed in his manner what could be a thinly veiled threat. ‘Maybe your last one.’

K
ate stood gazing from the sheriff’s office out into the street. Bright sunlight glinted against the buildings, making them look old and timeworn. A pleasant day, filled with the brilliant colours and the clear, brisk air of autumn; once more she felt a pang of regret that she had turned down the date with Ty yesterday. For a moment she became caught up with images of Ty, riding a tall white Arabian horse, wind sweeping through his hair.

Wearily she turned from the window. Everything concerning this crime remained a jumble. Her instincts, which she had always relied on so completely, ran counter to the facts.

She crossed Ben’s office and entered the evidence room. For a long time she sat at the wooden table studying the single earring found in Swen’s truck, one she still believed belonged to either Mary Ellen or Jennie. Although she had been keeping close watch, neither woman had mentioned losing an earring or had worn a matching bracelet or
necklace
. Regardless, feeling this might be some vital clue, Kate set the earring aside.

She concentrated on sifting through the contents of the glove compartment of the truck. She studied the
registration
, the co-op and feed stores invoices, then carefully unfolded the single, remaining item: a tattered map of Belle County.

Three small x’s spaced far apart had been marked in pen on the map. She frowned in concentration. Two were on Kingsley’s land, one on Swen’s. This alone, seemed to possess some sinister significance.

In addition three phone numbers had been scribbled on the yellowed margin. The first two were written in blue ink, the last in black. Kate lost no time running a check on the numbers. One belonged to Pratt’s Insurance Company, one to a rancher from Laramie and – bingo – the final one from Casper, was listed under the name of Jennie Irwin.

Kate stuffed the map into her canvas bag and quickly left the office. She must find out more about the
relationship
between Swen and Jennie Kingsley and why these three obscure sites had been pinpointed on Swen’s county map.

Today she still drove her trusty Landcruiser. As she backed out into the street, she spotted Kingsley’s foreman, Hal Barkley, entering the Lazy Z Tavern. This presented the perfect opportunity. Barkley was certain to know all about Swen’s relationship with Kingsley’s wife. If Barkley wasn’t as loyal to the Kingsleys as everyone supposed, he might be willing to tell her all he knew.

The idea hadn’t struck her until she had stepped into the bar: Barkley might actually be hired by Swen as an inside
man, working for Swen instead of Kingsley. The thought caused her to draw to an uncertain halt.

Kate stepped further into the darkened interior, assailed by the smell of beer and greasy food. A crowd had gathered near a big-screen TV, loudly cheering a favourite team.

Kate, eyes adjusting to the light, looked around for Hal Barkley, but settled instead, on the familiar face of Jake Pierson. The museum curator, a half-finished hamburger before him, sat at a secluded booth some distance from the TV. Kate drew in her breath. Seated next to him was the man with the peroxide hair she had seen watching her at Pauley’s Auction Barn.

Jake Pierson glanced up, an affable smile lighting his face. She watched as he lifted a plastic tray, scooped the remainder of his lunch into the waste bin, and strode toward her. Today the tied-back hair, the phony Western image, or maybe the company he kept, made him look at home in these dim, grungy surroundings.

‘So what’s a nice girl like you doing in this place full of ruffians?’ he quipped.

‘My job,’ Kate replied. ‘I’m looking for Hal Barkley.’

“Hal?’ Pierson’s alertly skimmed the room. ‘I thought I saw him come in a while ago.’

As he spoke, Barkley appeared from the dark recesses of the bar with a mug of beer and slipped into the seat Pierson had just vacated.

‘There he is,’ Pierson said. ‘He was lying in wait to steal my seat.’ His voice lowered, although no one could have heard him anyway over the racket. ‘Can’t say I’m sorry. I
ducked in to grab a bite to eat and catch the score when that character they call Slim sits down right next to me.’ He gave a mock shudder. ‘Like trying to eat with Billy the Kid. Enough to ruin my appetite.’

So now the surly cowboy had a name. Slim.

Barkley, leaning forward, said something to Slim that caused him to turn towards her. His long angular face – if possible – appeared even more cold and frightening than at their last meeting.

Kate, pretending not to notice, looked quickly back at Jake Pierson, who had by this time come back into focus as the kindly, educated man who had assisted her at the museum. ‘Who is that man with Barkley?’ she asked him. ‘Does he work for the Rocking C?’

‘Slim, that’s all I know. In fact, from the sight of him, that’s all I want to know.’ Pierson’s gaze, filled with concern, shifted back to her. ‘He’s sure giving you a murderous look. Do you think you should stay here?’

‘I need to talk to Barkley.’

‘I’ll be glad to accompany you,’ he offered gallantly. ‘We can both go over there now if you like.’

‘Thanks, but no need.’

As soon as the museum curator left, Kate headed to their table. Barkley, muscular arms propped on his elbows, seemed only half hearing what Slim was saying to him. A sharp frown cut between his brows. When he replied, it must have been not to Slim’s liking, for he was holding his ground in a mean, sullen way. His hair, pale in the dull light, looked purposefully bleached and hung in shaggy lengths across his denim jacket.

Kate, heart pounding, stopped at their table. Slim glared at her, the same way he had when he was spying on her at Pauley’s Auction. More than ever, Kate was convinced that he was the one who had sabotaged her tyre, causing her to break down on that deserted road.

‘You’d better not be following me,’ he said in an undertone.

Barkley spoke harshly, ‘She’s here to see me.’

The blond man, a match for Barkley in combativeness, angrily grabbed his Stetson and left the bar.

‘What do you want?’

Kate slipped into the seat Slim had vacated. Her voice rose, battling the shouting and the blare of the television as she said, ‘We haven’t really had a chance to talk. I need for you to answer a few questions.’

‘Like what?’

‘To begin with, how long have you worked for the Rocking C?’

‘Two years, going on three. Long enough to hate those vipers at the Double S.’

‘Where did you work before Mr Kingsley hired you?’

‘I owned a little spread of my own between here and Laramie. Had to sell out.’ He added, a bit resentfully, ‘too hard for the little guys to make a go of it in this economy.’

‘How did you meet Charles Kingsley?’

‘At a rodeo in Casper,’ he replied. ‘Slim, that guy I was talking to when you came in, rode the circuit then. Charles and I began making friendly bets on Slim’s success. I usually won. Anyway, we got to be buddies, and Charles offered me a job. But what’s that got to do with anything?’

‘What can you tell me about your friend Slim?’

‘I wouldn’t exactly call him a friend. Slim’s a fellow rancher. Runs the Bar 8 over near the Colorado border. I do a little business with him now and then, that’s all.’

‘What’s his last name?’

‘Barton.’

‘What else can you tell me about him?’

‘Slim worked for Charles once, but that was before I hired on. That’s all I know about him.’ He fell obstinately silent.

‘I suppose you met Jennie Irwin in Casper, too.’

The mention of her name caused him to brighten. ‘I did. Little Jennie is a fan of anything Western. She loves horses.’ He added proudly, ‘Years back she was voted Casper’s rodeo queen.’ He paused, smiled, then added, ‘Some little gal. I dated her myself a few times, but lost out the minute I
introduced
her to my boss.’

‘What about Swen? Was he acquainted with her, too?’

‘I hear he courted her once, or tried to. That fell by the way, lucky for her.’

‘How long did they see each other?’

‘However long it took her to find out how no-good he is. And not long after she met Charles. Jennie’s friendly, but she doesn’t play the field any. She’s the faithful kind.’

So many possibilities existed, so many ways a clever person could take control of Kingsley’s fortune.

‘Charles did the right thing when he made me foreman,’ he boasted. ‘Jennie can depend on me.’

‘You’ve been ranching most of your life, haven’t you?’ Kate asked. ‘You must have had experience dealing with cattle
rustling. Is there anything you can tell me about how a rustler works?’

Barkley frowned sharply as if she were accusing him, then he ran a work-hardened hand against his beard before he replied. ‘Most of the scum I’ve run into are small-timers. They steal calves before they’re branded. But what I’m up against here is a big-money man who’s too slippery to take the fall himself. Swen had no earthly reason to be stealing from us, only vengeance. He’d go to any length to watch Kingsley sweat. He chuckled over being able to profit himself from Kingsley’s loss.’

‘But Swen claims to have missing cattle, too.’

‘So he says. But he’s the one who got caught red-handed. Charles found proof of his guilt and intended to go for his throat.’

‘What reason do you have for thinking Swen’s guilty?’

‘Because I know,’ Barkley replied, leaning across the table, ‘just how they do it. They tear down their own fences, let their cattle run with ours. Then they load them up and take ours as well. Wouldn’t be any trick to alter a brand from a Rocking C to a Double S. The last time I found a fence cut, that’s when I went over there to have it out with them. Of course then I didn’t know about the lawsuit Charles was filing.’

‘What happened once you accused Swen?’

‘He ordered me to get off his land and when I didn’t, he turned that thug Garrison loose on me. I did a lot of defending myself.’

Kate still didn’t know any more about who started the
fight than she had before, although she had her suspicions. Barkley had trouble looking innocent, even now when he was making every effort to do so.

‘What will happen to the lawsuit? Have you talked to Kingsley’s lawyer?’

‘The whole thing is dead in the water. Charles had just spoken to his attorney on the phone, but hadn’t turned over the evidence. And none of us know exactly what proof he had.’

Barkley stared morosely down at the table, a frown cutting a deep line between his eyes. ‘If you ask me,’ he said bitterly, ‘it’s not over yet. Not even with Charles dead and buried. I think Ty Garrison has stopped following Swen’s orders and has begun to work for himself.’

After Kate left the bar, she went directly out to Swen’s ranch. An elderly housekeeper answered the door and left her standing on the porch for a long while before she returned. ‘This way. Mr Swen is in his study.’

Kate’s anxiety had grown during the long wait, but as she entered the house, she thought of the last time she’d been here, of Ty and of the warm comforting fire.

Swen was seated at a huge walnut desk before scatterings of ledgers and papers. The way he rose in such gentlemanly fashion caused Kate to picture him in an elegant suit rather than in dusty denims. She waited without speaking, expecting the same rudeness she had faced from the men at the bar.

Instead he asked quietly, ‘How’s Ben?’

‘He’s still in the hospital. The doctors keep running tests.
So far they have come up with nothing. They’re beginning to believe his problems must be stress related.’

‘Or doughnut related.’ Swen’s smile made his lined face look less hard. ‘What brings you here?’

‘Unanswered questions,’ Kate said. ‘Do you mind helping me out?’

Swen sank back into the leather chair. ‘Not in the least.’

‘Who generally drives the truck that rammed into my squad car?’

‘Mostly the help I hire for the house. The cook takes it to Rock Creek every Friday for supplies. Other than that, I guess Ty uses it the most.’

‘And you?’

‘Not often, but at times.’

‘You told me that you always left the keys in it. That would make it accessible to, say, someone from the Kingsley’s ranch.’

‘Yes.’

‘I’d like to know more about Kingsley’s foreman. Is there anything you can tell me.’

‘Barkley ran a ranch west of Laramie, but drank and gambled and went belly up.’ Swen added in the same even tone, ‘Kingsley could never tell the sheep from the goats.’

‘I’ve just come from talking to him. Of course, he thinks the thefts are coming from your ranch.’

‘And I always believed the devilment sprang right from the Lazy C. Until recently, that is.’

‘When I was here last, you were about to give me your opinion of what’s been going on.’ Kate waited, reading in his
manner the fact that Swen no longer considered confiding in her. Jeff had ruined that.

‘I’ve tried to work with the sheriff’s department in the past,’ he replied, ‘with zero results.’

‘But I’m the acting sheriff now. And I think we would both gain by joining forces.’

‘Haven’t you been in enough danger already? I don’t want to involve you in any more.’

‘You might be the one in danger, Mr Swen.’

‘You don’t have to warn me, Kate,’ he replied, ‘or protect me either. I always work solo and accept full responsibility for my decisions.’

Kate recalled what Barkley had said about the possibility of Ty’s working for himself. Even though she didn’t agree with him, she felt obligated to pose the question. ‘What if this turns out to be an inside job?’

‘Then I’ll make adjustments. Recognizing the truth and facing it, that’s what life’s all about.’ Swen’s eyes held to hers, steady in his strong, weathered face. ‘But don’t worry. This isn’t any double-cross by my own men. Kingsley didn’t know the sheep from the goats, but I do.’

‘I’ve noticed how closely you work with Ty Garrison. You’ve given him free rein. Do you.…’

‘Ty’s the best friend I’ve ever had,’ he interrupted, ‘so you can get off that track.’

Kate, reassured by his words that sounded so certain, settled back in her chair. ‘Do you know a man named Slim Barton?’