Restless Hearts

by B. J Daniels

  “Has anyone ever looked for it?” LJ asked.

  Bud stared at him. “Not that I know of. Everyone seems to have accepted Monte’s story that she packed up and left to start a new life. Maybe got herself a new name, even a new man.”

  “And was never heard from again? I find that hard to believe. I remember when Blaze and I were dating, she said her mother had promised to come back for her once she got settled.”

  Bud had stopped pacing. He’d had to let Monte walk on the Anson killing, but if he could get him on Bethany’s... There might just be a way to get justice after all. He slapped his son on the back as he walked past to his desk, took his chair and leaned back to consider what it might take to find the car. “Get me a topographical map of the area around the McClintock Ranch.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  AS CLARKSTON EVANS climbed out of the rental car in front of the ranch house, Jake watched for Monte to get out of the passenger side. He wondered what was going through the rancher’s mind. Had he known this was how it would all shake out? What was the attempt to plead guilty all about, then?

  Jake couldn’t help feeling suspicious of Monte’s motivations. If he hadn’t wanted Blaze involved, then he wouldn’t have given her his power of attorney. He had to know that she wouldn’t let him plead guilty to something he didn’t do. Just as he had to know she’d hire the best criminal attorney she could find.

  Even if Monte had known he would get off, they still had no idea who had killed Frank. Blaze’s theory that her father had been covering for someone had seemed the most credible. If Monte thought Allie had killed Frank then he would have tried to protect the woman who was carrying his child.

  But Allie had an alibi. She’d been seen in town that morning. But Jake knew that she could have easily returned and fired the shot from the road and then left again to return only when the sheriff was arresting Monte. He didn’t believe she was guilty of her husband’s murder, though. Then again, he’d been surprised before.

  He watched Blaze hug her father. Jake had stayed inside, hanging back to let her have the reunion without him. What would happen now that Monte was free? Blaze had seemed upset when he’d told her that her father might sell the ranch and leave with Allie. Clearly she’d assumed the ranch would always be here should she ever want to return. The thought gave him hope that the woman might someday consider settling down.

  He watched Blaze and her father talk for a moment before Monte headed for his pickup. Was that disappointment he saw on her face? Or worry? As Blaze came into the house with Clarkston, he could see that she was now all business as she went to her father’s office to cut the lawyer a check.

  Jake followed her. “Where’s your father off to?”

  “He’s going over to see Allie,” she said without looking up from what she was doing. He watched her make out the check. As she rose, she avoided his gaze. She didn’t want him to see that anything was wrong, he thought. Didn’t she realize that he knew her inside and out?

  Back in the living room, the lawyer shook their hands, said if they needed any more help to call and left.

  Blaze stood, watching him go. “I suppose I should call WT.”

  “Or we could talk,” Jake suggested.

  She avoided his gaze as she pulled out her cell phone. “It’s Blaze,” he heard her say into the phone as she walked back down the hall away from him.

  * * *

  WHEN LJ RETURNED to his office with the map, Bud took a piece of string. Estimating a fifty-mile radius, he drew a circle around the McClintock Ranch.

  “You think that’s where we’ll find the car?” LJ asked, studying the area within the circle.

  “I figure he couldn’t have gone far or he would have been seen driving her car, so yes, that’s what I suspect,” Bud said. Now that he was looking at the area, though, he realized how difficult it was going to be since to the south were the Missouri Breaks, miles and miles of deep ravines, stands of dense pines, ponds, not to mention the muddy Missouri River itself. He said as much to his son.

  “Then there are the old buildings on those abandoned homesteads.” It was no wonder her car had never been found, he thought as he looked at the map and felt discouraged.

  “No way could we search all that,” LJ agreed. “Unless we did it from the air.”

  Bud looked up at his son. Yes, sometimes LJ amazed him. “From the air. The sheriff’s department does have a plane and I doubt anyone ever looked for the car.”

  His son’s eyes lit. “You know what it means if we find it.”

  He nodded solemnly. “It means I’m right and Bethany McClintock is dead and Monte will be behind bars again soon.” Then it would be just a matter of keeping him there.

  * * *

  JAKE COULD HEAR Blaze on the phone with the judge, but not what she was saying. He realized that she thought it was all over. It wouldn’t be over until Frank’s killer was caught, he told himself. It had nothing to do with him wanting to stay until he finished what he’d started—not just with this case but with Blaze.

  For all he knew the woman might leave now. Hell, she might be gone when he returned. He had to take that chance, he told himself. He started for his pickup when he realized that she would think he’d packed up and left.

  Back in the living room, he left her a note telling her where he had gone and why. He stuck it on the refrigerator since she was still on the phone. He was sure that WT had a lot of questions. He wasn’t the only one.

  Once behind the wheel, he headed for town. He was moving slow this morning. Nothing was broken but his ribs were definitely bruised along with a lot of other parts of him. He glanced in the rearview mirror. His cut lip had started to bleed again and he had one hell of a black eye. He couldn’t help but smile, wondering what LJ looked like today, not to mention some of the others.

  This morning while he’d let his body recuperate, he’d done some research on his phone. Local boy Lonny Dean had dated Sandra Westlake throughout high school and college. They’d married after graduation and moved back to Saddle Butte. Sandra helped out at the church and Lonny managed the stockyard.

  He found Lonny in the stockyard office. A small-framed man with brown eyes and brown thinning hair, Lonny looked up, startled to see Jake standing in his office doorway. He pushed his paperwork aside and got to his feet. Frowning, he asked, “Can I help you?”

  “I’m Jake Horn—”

  “I know who you are. What do you want?”

  “I need to ask you a few questions. About Frank.”

  Lonny motioned for him to close the door even though the place appeared to be empty except for the two of them. “I have nothing to say on this subject.”

  “You must have been angry when Frank told your wife—”

  “Look, it’s apparent that someone has already beaten you up,” Lonny interrupted. “I abhor violence, but if you continue butting in where you have no business and upset my wife—”

  “I’m just trying to find out who killed Frank Anson,” Jake said, holding up his hands.

  “Well, you’re looking in the wrong place.”

  “Abhorring violence or not, you must have been upset when Frank told your wife that he was her biological father.”

  Lonny looked at the floor, his jaw working. “I was very upset, yes. But not enough to kill him, if that is what you’re suggesting.”

  “What about your wife?”

  “Clearly, you’ve never met Sandra and if I have my way, you never will.” The man took a step around his desk toward him. “Sandra is the sweetest, gentlest person you could ever meet. She won’t even kill a spider. She scoops them up and takes them outside.” The man’s voice broke. “She wouldn’t kill anyone. Not ever.”

  Jake could have argued that even the most sweet and gentle person could be pushed into violence, but he held his tongue. “Do you know who Sandra’s birth moth
er is?”

  Lonny blinked as if that was the last thing he’d expected Jake to ask. “I have no idea. But surely, you can’t think—”

  “Someone killed Frank.”

  “Monte McClintock.”

  Jake shook his head. “He was released from jail hours ago. None of Monte’s guns were the murder weapon. Frank was believed shot with a rifle from the road. Monte was standing only yards away when Frank was shot. He didn’t do it.”

  Lonny looked even more upset. A streak of red climbed his neck. He reached up to loosen the collar of his shirt. He looked more worried than Jake thought he should since the man and his wife were innocent. “I was so sure...”

  “Yes, apparently so was the sheriff. Do you own a rifle, Lonny?”

  “No. I wouldn’t have guns in my house.”

  That surprised him. “But it wouldn’t be hard for you to get your hands on a hunting rifle in this town.”

  “I told you. I didn’t kill Frank.”

  “I would imagine your father-in-law was quite upset with Frank, as well,” Jake said.

  The man groaned. “Pastor Westlake?” He laughed. “You can’t be serious?”

  Jake was studying him. “Who is Sandra’s biological mother?”

  “I don’t know. Even if I knew—”

  “Oh, I think you know. It’s a small town. She had to hate Frank more than any of the rest of you. And why would Frank tell your wife that he was her father without telling her who her birth mother had been? I just want to talk to the woman. Or I can ask your wife.”

  Lonny’s face turned scarlet as his hands balled into fists. Jake no longer believed that the man couldn’t kill or that he wouldn’t use a gun when it suited his purposes. He glanced toward his desk as if looking for something he could use as a weapon before taking a threatening step toward Jake. “I forbid you to speak to my wife.”

  Holding up his hands again, Jake took a step back. He didn’t want to fight this man. Not that he couldn’t take him. He didn’t want to fight anyone at least for a few days until he was healed up from his last fight. “The birth mother’s name. Let’s start there. The last thing I want to do is upset your wife, okay?”

  * * *

  THE SHERIFF FELT better after he’d taken the map and, sending his son home telling him to make up with his fiancée, headed for his own house. He told himself that Bethany McClintock’s car was out there. That it could be found. That somehow he would do it.

  But even as he thought it, he realized how long it might take. That was if he didn’t run into trouble for using the sheriff’s department plane. There was another problem, as well. He’d gotten an anonymous call at his office from someone who claimed that Allie Anson was pregnant with Monte’s child.

  He hadn’t been surprised. But he wondered what Monte and Allie would do now that the rancher was out of jail. He’d heard that Allie had already checked with a Realtor about selling Frank’s ranch. That, too, wasn’t a surprise. But with Monte out of the jail, would they stay? Or put both ranches up for sale.

  Worst-case scenario, they might decide to leave the state. Maybe even the country. If that happened, he’d play hell getting Monte back into custody unless he could find Bethany’s car. Once they started looking for the vehicle, word would get out. If Monte McClintock were as guilty as he suspected, the man would run. Bud realized he would have to move fast.

  Almost home, he took a quick right. He knew it was a long shot, but there was one judge in town who might give him the warrant he needed. While Bethany’s car could be anywhere, he suspected her body was closer to home. If he could get a warrant to search the ranch property, maybe bring in some cadaver dogs...

  He pulled up in front of the house, got out and hurried to the door. He found Judge Alfred Green watching television and, after apologizing for stopping by so late, got right to it.

  “Let me get this straight,” the judge said after Bud had pled his case. “You already had the man in jail. You had a warrant to take all of McClintock’s firearms and came up empty.”

  Bud knew what was coming and rubbed a hand over his face. “None of the weapons matched the slug taken from Frank Anson’s body,” he said even though he was sure that Alfred had already heard. News traveled fast in this county, especially bad news. “But I’m convinced he killed his wife.”

  “I see. And now you want another warrant to go on a fishing exhibition after arresting the wrong man. On top of that, you have no evidence at all that, number one—” the judge ticked them off on his fingers “—Bethany McClintock is even dead. Two, that she is buried on the McClintock property. And three, that a crime was even committed.”

  “I know it in my gut.”

  The judge grunted.

  Bud picked his Stetson off his knee, where he’d been balancing it, and lumbered to his feet. “Sorry to have bothered you, Judge.” He started for the door.

  “Evidence, Sheriff. Bring me some evidence and I’d be happy to help you put that son of a bitch behind bars.”

  Bud stopped to look back at the man in surprise. “You believe me?”

  “That he killed his wife? I’ve never been a betting man, but I’d wager McClintock is guilty as hell of something. Did he kill his wife?” Alfred shrugged. “Evidence, Bud.” With that, the judge went back to watching the news.

  * * *

  BLAZE FINISHED HER phone call with WT and came back to the living room to find Jake gone. She felt her heart drop before she saw the note he’d left her on the front of the refrigerator. Pulling it off, she read his neat left-handed script and swore.

  What was he doing? It was over. He was doing what he said he was going to do. The man wouldn’t quit until he’d found Frank Anson’s killer.

  Shaking her head, she told herself she wasn’t sticking around. Her father was out of jail. Clarkston didn’t think any more charges would be coming. That meant her job here was done. Monte and Allie would probably be getting married. She doubted it would be a big wedding, and she wasn’t even sure she’d be back for it.

  She had to admit, she’d been a little hurt when her father had left so quickly earlier. She’d hoped that they could put the past behind them. Even the thought surprised her since she hadn’t admitted that she wanted to until this moment. She wanted to mend things between them. Once she did that, she could leave here no matter what happened next.

  Blaze understood that he was anxious to get to the woman who was carrying his child. His other child. She felt a stab of jealousy. This child would have a mother and a father.

  Feeling at loose ends, she was glad when her cell phone rang. She thought it would be Jake. She hated the way things were between them. But those burned bridges weren’t that easy to repair. And now he was still trying to find Frank’s killer. Wasn’t it enough that he’d gotten beaten up last night? Was he trying to get himself killed?

  She checked her phone and saw with disappointment that it wasn’t Jake. Her pulse did a little bump, though, when she saw the name on the screen. Sandra Dean, the pastor’s daughter?

  “Hello?” she said into the phone, wondering why the woman would be calling her.

  “I thought we should meet,” Sandra said without preamble. She was soft-spoken, sounding very calm. Too calm?

  “Maybe you haven’t heard, but my father has been released from jail. I’m no longer looking into Frank’s murder.”

  “Are you familiar with the River View?”

  The restaurant was at the local golf course. It still amazed Blaze that a tiny Western town without even a stoplight had a golf course.

  “Is thirty minutes too soon for you?” Sandra asked as if Blaze had agreed to the meeting.

  She had to admit, she was curious why the woman was so insistent. “Thirty minutes is no problem. I drive fast.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  JAKE RECOGNIZED THE name at once. He stared at Lo
nny Dean for a moment before he repeated the name. “Luella Brown is Sandra’s mother?” The waitress at the local café who’d visited Monte in jail and told Blaze it was because he’d asked her to bring him some decent food? Or had the woman lied about her reasons for visiting him in jail?

  “Why can’t you leave this alone?” Lonny demanded. His face had turned scarlet, his knuckles white as he gripped his hands in fists.

  “Because a man is dead.”

  “A man who deserved to die,” Lonny spit. “I’m sure you know what he did to my wife. Do you care about that?”

  “I’m sorry she had to find out the way she did,” Jake said. “Did you or your wife contact Luella after you learned the truth?”

  Lonny moved back to his desk, pulled out his chair and dropped into it. Jake watched him try to control his anger. “No, we didn’t contact her. It was already traumatic enough for Sandra to find out who her parents were. Not that we have anything against Luella.”

  “Except for the fact that she left Sandra on the church doorstep right after she was born,” Jake said.

  “Clearly, she was desperate and as it was, it was a blessing for Sandra. Wilber and Emma Jean are the kind of parents we all wish we’d had.” Lonny seemed to realize what he’d said. “Not that mine weren’t fine.” He raked a hand through his thinning hair and looked distraught. “All this is so upsetting. You must understand that. Finding out what your true genetic makeup really is when you’re pregnant.”

  Jake wondered if Sandra had been more upset than her husband. “So Luella has never tried to contact you?”

  The man shook his head. “We thought it was best to just let everything calm down.”

  “And then Frank was murdered.” Jake didn’t know how much he believed of what the man had told him. Maybe they hadn’t reached out to Luella. Maybe they never would. “Thank you for the information.” He started to leave when Lonny rose again and grabbed his arm to stop him. His grip was iron-like. This was not a gentle man.