4) were loose ends
The list was pretty slim and wimpy, Carrie decided as she sat back and studied it. These were boys who had both grown up on adjoining ranches in Texas. They had no history of crime. There were speeding tickets, but anyone around here who had a pickup truck had a speeding ticket.
The only drugs in their system was ketamine. There weren’t even prescription drugs. These boys were healthy. But they could sell and not use, she mused.
Who would they be selling to? Other ranch hands? She shook her head and leaned back in her desk chair. No, the drug angle wasn’t coming together. It just didn’t seem to fit. They often worked long hours, particularly in the spring and summer. They got up with the sun and often worked until the sun went down.
The old desk chair creaked as she got up to go fill her coffee cup. She chuckled to herself wondering how long coffee had been an addictive lifeline to civilization. The Folgers Columbian that the agency provided wasn’t bad if a heavy hand wasn’t measuring out the grounds. And if it was refreshed at least twice a day.
Carrie breathed in the aroma of her coffee as she stirred in her creamer. What if they saw something they shouldn’t have seen? Leaving the bodies like that could be a clear message to others. If they saw someone commit a crime, then they would certainly be loose ends that needed to be eliminated.
Carrie thought about the day they spoke with Keith as the fresh rush of coffee flooded her system. He was hurting over losing his friend. Her mind systematically went over each moment of their conversation. Had she missed any indication he was hiding something? She didn’t think so.
Walking to the window she shut her eyes to enjoy the warmth of the sun. It was a beautiful day and here she was inside yet again. Thinking about Pinky, she thought how she had left their interrogation with him feeling lacking, very lacking. She decided it was a perfect day to go back to the Big Horn and have another visit with him.
Carrie scooped up her papers and the files of the investigation then stopped to send Randy a text about where she was going and what she was doing. Then she stopped herself. Sunday was family day for Randy unless there was a critical emergency, so she shoved her phone in her pocket deciding not to bother him.
Her decision to leave the building was a good one, she decided, as the cool breeze and warm sun greeted her exit from the building. The remaining trees were leafing out and there were smudges of bright green everywhere.
The thought crossed her mind to see if Darren would go to the ranch with her, but he had a family too, so she tossed that idea as well.
At the ranch, she didn’t stop at the main house but drove on back to the barns where they had first met with Pinky. Getting out of the car, she noticed it was quiet. It was about ten in the morning and this place should be busy, but looked abandoned.
She walked to the barn where Pinky’s office had been and opened the door. The cool of the barn met her as did the smell of large farm animals. It was a mixture of hay and manure.
She noticed that the stalls hadn’t been mucked yet. Maybe they do that later in the day, she thought. She walked on down to Pinky’s office and knocked on the closed door. There was no answer.
She stood for a minute looking around the barn. There were eight horse stalls, three with horses. There were two other rooms besides the office, the one with its door open appeared to hold saddles and other various tack. The closed door of the other one hid its contents.
She stepped over to the closed door and knocked. Again, no answer. She was curious, so she turned the doorknob and pushed the door open and flipped on the light.
The walls were lined with shelves and cabinets. The upper cabinets on her left had glass inserts so you could see the contents. Carrie stepped up to the first glass and read the labels on the bottles and jars. Pharmaceuticals.
There were many types of pills and medicines. Most of them she had no idea how to pronounce. One dark brown jar held pills of some sort and it made Carrie realize that the term ‘horse pills’ was true. They were huge.
There were creams and salves as well. She walked along the length of the wall reading all the labels that she could see without opening a cabinet. Only the last one had a lock on it.
In that last cabinet she saw a familiar word, ketamine. But then as they had suspected this was not unusual. Ketamine was a large animal tranquilizer.
Carrie jumped as a strong voice interrupted her thoughts with a fury. “Hey! What are you doing?”
In an instant Carrie swung around and had her hand on her hip where her gun lay. It was Pinky at the door and he had caught her snooping. She didn’t have a warrant and no legal excuse to be in here.
She took a deep breath to calm herself and removed her hand. “Pinky, there you are. I was looking for you.”
Creases crossed his face emphasizing the scowl he wore. “In here? You got no business in here! What are you snooping for? You got a warrant?”
“No, I came in the barn looking for you and when you didn’t answer your office door, I thought you might be in here,” she responded hoping it sounded plausible.
“Did you knock on this door to see if I would answer?” He almost spat out.
“Yes. I’m sorry,” she replied feeling contrite. “I truly am.” And she was, well, sorry she had gotten caught, anyway.
“Is there somewhere we can go and talk?”
“Sure,” he turned and led to his office.
“Where is everyone? It seems like a ghost town around here this morning.” She tried to naturally put him at ease.
“It’s Sunday morning,” he stated.
Carrie tried to reconcile that statement with what she had asked. When she didn’t comment in return, Pinky clarified.
“They go to church on Sunday morning. Well, most of them do.”
“Oh, I see,” replied Carrie. She hadn’t gone to church since she, well she couldn’t remember.
“You don’t go to church?” she asked.
“I used to go every Sunday, but lately I have gotten a little lazy about going. At my age I am fighting aches and pains. Sunday is my only day to take it easy and so I have gotten into a bad habit of sleeping late on Sundays.”
“I see,” Carrie paused. “Well, I came by because I wanted to talk to you again about Justin and Keith.”
“Go on.” There was unmistakable pain on Pinky’s face. Pain and sadness.
“From all I can determine, those were good boys. There was no record of previous or current criminal activity. Can you please help me? You knew them as well as anyone. Give me a picture of their life from your vantage point.”
“You’re right. They were good boys. Ever since they came here they worked hard, were always on time. Hell, they livened up the place. They sparked some life into these old codgers out here.
“They’re always cuttin’ up and playin’ around. But it was just plain old fun. There wasn’t a criminal bone in their bodies.”
“My partner Randy and I went by the Darkside and spoke with Ike,” explained Carrie. “He gave us the same impression. When they went there, he said there was never trouble, just two boys having a drink and some fun.
“We can’t find any information showing that either of the boys dated or had girlfriends. Do you know if they had girlfriends, or,” Carrie hesitated, “were they in a relationship together?”
Pinky squirmed. “No, they weren’t in a relationship together!” The old guy was indignant at that suggestion.
“Help me Pinky. Why do you think someone murdered them?” Carrie looked at Pinky with pleading eyes.
He sat forward in his chair and placed both forearms on his desk and looked her squarely in the face. “Honestly, I do not know.”
“Someone had drugged them with ketamine,” she stated and let it lie there.
Pinky’s mind raced as he assimilated this new information. “Ketamine? Why, we use that around here. You don’t suspect someone from the ranch here, do you?” Pinky was genuinely worried about that. Was he workin
g side by side with someone cruel enough to murder those good boys?
“I need a motive. Then I will be much closer to determining who did it.”
“What if there was no motive?”
“You mean just random?” Carrie pondered that. The killings were controlled and planned. The phrase randomly controlled played in her mind.
“I can’t give you a motive. In my wildest imagination I can’t begin to guess who would want those boys dead. And as for the ketamine, it is everywhere on every ranch in this part of the country. It could have come from anywhere.”
Carrie nodded in resignation and agreement. “You are right. Thank you for your time. You have my card. Please, if something occurs to you that you hadn’t thought of before, call us.”
As she was walking out she turned back. “Randy and I will need to conduct formal interviews with each of the hands. We don’t want to disrupt their work here or put a hardship on the ranch. Could you send them all in to Darren’s office tomorrow two at a time in thirty-minute intervals so you aren’t completely short-handed?”
Pinky nodded his agreement, apparently lost in thought.
She thanked Pinky again and turned to leave. She thought about motive. There was a motive even if the motive was some unimaginable, twisted desire living deep inside the killer.
~~~
It was a quiet Sunday afternoon for Senna. She felt a sense of peace and happiness she had not felt in a very long time.
She was curled up in her favorite chair reading, but had stopped to contemplate the day before with Andrea. The dust motes danced in the sunlight beaming in from the window and Senna stared at them transfixed as she thought.
It had been difficult to share such painful things with her, yet on the other hand, it felt like with that confession, a cleansing had come to her soul.
She realized now how much shame she had been carrying for a past which had been totally out of her control. Why should she feel shame for events surrounding her life, which she had not chosen or caused? She pondered how shame was unique in that way. Realization was dawning on her that shame would attach itself whenever and however it could. It made no difference if you were the guilty party or not.
Even amidst this newfound peace, there still seemed deep inside her an unsettled layer of emotion that tempered everything with deep sadness. She wanted to be completely free from it all. She just did not know how. But she knew now it might be possible. She hoped it was possible.
This attempt to break free felt to her like a new baby deer trying to stand on wobbly legs. Each step, each new attempt to break free was met with uncertainty and, for her, fear.
She found herself questioning each and every word that had been drilled into her when she was growing up. What was true? Was any of it true? How could she know what to keep and what to throw out?
It had been a long time since she had prayed, a small child maybe, but she whispered one now. “I need to know the truth. Please help me.”
The room remained filled with silence and so she picked up her book and continued to read.
An hour later her phone rang. “Hey girl!” Came chattering through the line.
Senna smiled. It was Andrea. “Hi yourself.”
“So, I thought we needed to go to the city and go shopping this afternoon. It is a beautiful day and I want to get out.”
Shopping. Senna thought about shopping with Gran and also her and Andrea’s trip on Friday when they had shopped for the new dress.
“Yes, let’s go shopping,” Senna said smiling. There was a knot in her stomach, but she was determined to push past it.
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
Senna went into her bedroom to change out of her sweatpants. Looking in her closet she saw it as if for the first time. She shoved hangers aside looking for something she could wear that would not embarrass Andrea.
Ten minutes later when Andrea arrived, Senna was still in her sweats.
“What on earth went on in here,” Andrea exclaimed, rather than asked. Before her was disarray everywhere in the bedroom.
Senna sat on the edge of her bed in a pile of clothes she had flung out of her closet. “I think I am seeing myself and my life differently for the first time. I look at you and you have cute things, then I hear my father’s voice in my head. But I can’t reconcile the things he said when I look at you.
“I need to find a way to be me and not some staid figure that my father forced me to become. But trying to break out of all of this feels like I am trying to be you. The truth is I don’t know who I am.”
“Well, let’s find who you are!” Andrea said. She hunted through the ravaged pile on the bed and what was left in the closet.
“Here, put this on.”
“That?” Senna asked quite surprised. It was yet another skirt and button up blouse.
“Yes, but here put this t-shirt on, tuck it in and put the blouse on over it and leave it unbuttoned.”
Senna did as she was told and then Andrea rolled up the blouse sleeves. She stood back and looked to see what to do next. Looking around and digging in drawers she found a belt.
Shoving that at Senna she commanded her to put that on too. She also found a necklace and earrings in a little box way at the back of a drawer.
“Okay, let me see,” Andrea said as she looked at Senna. “Cute. You look cute! Leave your hair down, no tight little bun in the back today. Look. Turn around and look.” Andrea took Senna’s shoulders and turned her around to look in the mirror.
“Oh!” Senna said. “Wow, it is cute. Okay. Okay. I like it!” A big smile spread across Senna’s face.
Soon afterwards, they were headed to the city with the pile still on the bed.
“Girl we will fix you up today. This is so much fun. What is your budget?”
“Budget?” Senna looked at Andrea as if she had not understood.
“Sure, I know you don’t make much at the library but having seen the contents of your closet I am assuming you never, ever spend money on clothes. So, how much do you have pigeonholed away to spend?”
Senna blinked and thought to herself. Gran had left her some money. The thought to be conservative, pressed in on her, to be wise, pressed in even harder.
By force of sheer will she said, “I have money. Gran left me some.”
“Awesome,” Andrea smiled. Shopping was fun, but shopping with other people’s money was even more fun!
~~~
Even though it was Sunday afternoon, Blake had a ton of work to do. He would rather have been out playing golf or fishing or a thousand other things, but he had a trial coming up and he needed to make sure he was prepared.
The windows were open to his upstairs office. Spring in Oklahoma was unpredictable, but the weather was still holding out cool enough so he could leave the windows open. Silly as it seemed, it gave him a connection with the beautiful day outside, even if only a small one.
To be honest, he wasn’t a hundred percent focused on his work. He had been reading the same page for thirty minutes. He would find himself halfway down the page only to realize he hadn’t processed a single solitary word he had read.
It was Senna. She kept floating through his mind. She was a mystery to him. She was beautiful, no doubt. But there was something else so attractive about her.
Giving in to his wondering thoughts he leaned back in his chair and locked his fingers behind his head.
The thought of the first day he had met her and how he thought her very strange. She even seemed to dress a little odd. But she was sweet and awkwardly funny. The fact that she was not trying to impress him, in and of itself, was attractive.
She seemed, he thought, groping for a word, a little lost.
A breeze gusted through his open window and he stood to gaze out. The town square was empty, but his eyes only saw the empty bench where Senna usually sat to eat lunch. He realized his heart ached to see her.
Their first date had been nice. She seemed genuinely interested in what he
’d had to say, absorbing everything including the dinner and her surroundings. Blake pondered her innocence that was so charming. She was very gracious, too. But she had no clue about all these things. In fact, she seemed to be under the impression that she was completely unimpressive.
The quiet in the office pressed in on him, urging him to get done what he came to do. So taking a deep breath he sat back down, determined to finish.
Blake leaned forward and once again tried to concentrate on the documents he was reading. After another hour he gave up, picked up the phone and dialed Senna’s number. No answer.
Her machine left instructions to leave a message.
“Hi. This is Blake. I was just thinking about you and thought I’d call.... Well, okay, call me back when you get this message.” Then just before hanging up he left his cell number.
He hadn’t expected to get the answering machine and was caught off guard. He wished he’d left a more enticing message.
He smiled as he thought about this curiosity. Who in this day and age still had an answering machine and no cell phone? What did that say about a person who felt no need to be in constant contact with their phone and Facebook and all things social? It was unheard of to find a girl who was not taking constant selfies trying to capture the exact perfect one.
With that thought, he turned to his computer and did a Google search on Senna. Nothing came up. Nothing at all. No Facebook page, that was no surprise. No, nothing. Well, not everyone has their whole life plastered all across the internet.
Old-fashioned came to mind. Old-fashioned, but in a sweet and charming way. He couldn’t stop thinking of her and he knew he wanted to see her again.
~~~
After five long, hours Andrea and Senna stumbled into Senna’s house with loads of shopping bags. They had gone to countless stores.
The bags pulled on Senna’s arms begging to be dropped to the floor, but their weight only brought joy. She felt she was getting her footing. She knew she thought longer and harder about what to buy than most people did. Most people already knew who they were and what they liked. With each item she picked up, she had to stop and contemplate.
“What do you feel?” Andrea drawled out time and time again. “Does it make you happy?”
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