by B. J Daniels
“You didn’t tell me he was one of the men who attacked you after the poker game.” Jake said nothing. “What are we going to do?”
He started to answer when she saw him cock his head. “Do you hear that?”
She listened. “That buzzing sound?”
* * *
JAKE STEPPED OUT to see a plane flying low over the ranch. He recognized the logo on the side. It was a sheriff’s department single-engine one. He watched it barely clear the barn and then follow the fence line toward the Little Rockies.
“I wonder what that’s about,” Blaze said, appearing beside him. Jake shook his head. Whatever it was, he doubted it was good.
“Maybe the sheriff just wanted to let your dad know that he’s still around.”
“Still, it seems odd,” she said as she hugged herself against the cold before going back inside.
Jake watched the plane bank in the clear, icy blue winter sky and head back their way, flying even lower over the pasture. He had a bad feeling in his gut. What were they looking for from the air?
Another sound caught his attention as Monte drove up in his pickup. Allie sat on the passenger side. Jake waved, then headed for the bunkhouse to give the three of them time alone.
At the bunkhouse, though, he turned to look back. Monte had stopped on his way to the house. He was watching the plane making another pass over the ranch. His expression was dark and foreboding, making that bad feeling in Jake’s gut worsen before Monte ushered Allie inside.
* * *
BLAZE WENT INSIDE to see Allie looking pale. Her father didn’t look all that chipper, either. The sheriff’s plan to harass them seemed to be working. Bud wanted to drive her father and Allie away. She feared Jake might be right and the two might leave the country.
“I’m sorry,” Allie said. “Would you mind if I lie down for a few minutes?”
Monte stepped to her, taking her hand in his. “Are you all right?” The concern in his voice pricked at Blaze’s jealousy.
“I’m just a little tired,” Allie said quickly. “It’s nothing. Stop being such a worrywart. Stay here and visit with your daughter. I’ll be fine after just a short nap.”
Blaze watched the woman go down the hall to her father’s room and disappear inside. She turned to her father. “She’s right. We haven’t had a minute together since you got out.”
Monte turned to her. “I’m sorry about that. I’ve been worried about Allie and the pregnancy. But I’ve also been worried about you. Now that I’m out, there is no reason for you to stay here.” His words hurt. He seemed to realize it and quickly stepped to her to place his big hands on her shoulders. “It isn’t that I don’t love your being here. I’ve missed you so much. I never thought anything could get you back here.”
She hated to admit that if WT hadn’t called and asked her to come, she wouldn’t have. “I need to be honest with you. Do you mind if we sit down?”
He nodded and took a chair. She sat across from him. “I need to know what happened with you and my mother.”
Her father suddenly looked ten years older. “I blame myself. I knew your mother wanted to leave Saddle Butte. She was raised on a ranch outside town. Her father was a ranch manager. She wanted to do something more with her life than be the wife of a rancher. But you know me. I’d set my sights on her and I wasn’t about to let her get away.”
He sighed and looked toward the window.
She could hear the buzz of the sheriff’s department plane. Did her father look worried? “I always thought she was happy.”
“She was,” he said, turning back to her. “She was upset at first when she realized she was pregnant, but once you were born...” He smiled. “Just the sight of you made her light up. After that, she seemed content. I thought everything would be all right.”
“So what happened?”
“As you grew up, she became restless. She talked about how she wanted more for you. That she wasn’t going to let you settle on the likes of LJ Fraser. She’d seen him flirting with you. She told me that she was leaving and taking you. We argued. I didn’t want to lose you. But it was clear that nothing could change her mind.”
“But she didn’t take me.”
“That was my fault. I agreed that she could leave. I would give her money and a divorce so she could start a new life somewhere else. But I didn’t want her uprooting you until she was settled somewhere. She agreed, then she packed up and left even though it was late. I begged her to wait until morning, but I could tell that leaving you was so hard that she couldn’t face you in the morning.”
“So she left. And you never heard from her again?”
He shook his head. “She was supposed to call the next morning. I knew you’d want to talk to her. I wanted your mother to be the one to explain all this to you because damned if I understood it.”
“Maybe she chickened out.”
Her father shook his head. “Blaze, there is no way your mother wouldn’t have come back for you. She would have moved heaven and earth if that’s what it took.”
“Then why didn’t she?”
“I don’t know what happened. Just that there is only one explanation. Someone stopped her.” He shook his head. “She has to be dead.”
“How long have you known that?” she demanded.
“In my heart, almost sixteen years. When we didn’t hear from her the next day...” He met her gaze, his eyes so much like her own. “I was the one who wouldn’t let her take you that night. I promised that we could make arrangements as soon as she was settled, but she’d insisted that she couldn’t wait that long. She would call the next day. She would have called. If she could have.”
“Did you notify the sheriff?”
He looked away. “I was young and foolish and there was my stubborn pride, but when I didn’t hear from her after a couple of weeks, I did notify the sheriff. There was no sign of her. It’s been that way for sixteen years.”
* * *
BUD KNEW HIS expectations were too high. What were the chances that they would find the car the first day they flew the area? Monte had been out of jail now for twenty-four hours. The clock felt as if it was ticking. Bud couldn’t explain why he felt so anxious. As far as he knew, Monte hadn’t tried to leave the area, let alone the country. So why did he have the feeling that the man was planning to run?
As LJ came through his office door, Bud looked up expectantly. “Did you find anything?” He asked the question even though he could see the answer on his son’s face.
“We flew that entire grid just as you wanted,” his son said as he slumped into a chair, looking exhausted. LJ often looked that way even on his day off when he did little more than eat, drink, sleep and watch hunting shows on television. “Nothing from the air. We can fly it again...”
Bud didn’t see the point unless... “Maybe we need to expand the area.”
“There are a lot of old abandoned buildings out there, not to mention deep ravines down in the Breaks,” his son said.
“Those will have to be searched on foot,” Bud said, more to himself than LJ.
“We don’t have the manpower,” his son said as if he needed to be reminded of that. Nor would it be considered the best use of what manpower they had, Bud reminded himself.
LJ pushed to his feet. “You want us to fly it again tomorrow?”
Bud couldn’t hide his disappointment. He’d known it was a long shot, but he’d hoped... “Let me think about it.”
After his son left, he was just getting ready to lock up his office, when the prosecutor stepped in. One look at Dave and Bud knew he’d gotten wind of what was going on.
“I just got a call from one of the ranch wives down south,” the prosecutor said. “Something about the sheriff’s department plane flying around her house? What’s going on, Bud? Or do you want me to guess. The woman has a place not all
that far from the McClintock Ranch. If you’re harassing them from the air—”
Bud went around his desk and dropped into his chair. “I’m not harassing Monte.”
“Then what is going on? Because we’re lucky we haven’t been sued for false arrest. Yet.”
“The man wanted to plead guilty. If they hadn’t brought in that lawyer and the judge and just let him...”
Dave stepped up to the desk. “Bud, so help me, what are you doing?”
He’d known this might happen when word got out. “I have my boy flying over the area looking for something.”
“Something?” Dave sounded disbelieving.
“Bethany McClintock’s car.”
The prosecutor took a step back as if Bud had punched him. “Are you kidding me? You decided to do that now? After sixteen years?”
“I’ve always believed that he killed her,” Bud argued. “I’ll admit that’s why I jumped so quickly when he was found standing over Frank Anson with a loaded gun in his hand. I knew he’d killed before.”
Dave groaned. “I don’t know what burr you have under your saddle when it comes to Monte McClintock, but you’re costing this county a lot of money. If you value your job, I suggest you back off. You have got to quit making rash decisions like this based on...nothing but your personal animosity toward the man.” With that, the prosecutor turned and left.
Bud swore, feeling as if someone had just kicked his favorite dog. He wanted Monte because the man was a killer. He was convinced of it. So he’d been wrong about Frank, but he wasn’t about Bethany.
He started to rise, when his cell phone rang. He glanced at it. Unnamed caller. He almost didn’t pick up. “Hello?” Silence. He started to disconnect when a low, hoarse voice said, “I know what you’re looking for.”
Bud felt a chill rattle up his spine. “I beg your pardon?”
“I know where it is,” the voice said. He couldn’t tell if it was male or female, young or old, and he figured that was the way the caller wanted it.
“I can tell you where to find it, but it’s going to cost you five hundred dollars.”
The sheriff let out a laugh even as he felt a stab of disappointment. The caller had seen the plane, knew that they were looking for something and thought he or she would cash in. “Right. Nice try. Why don’t you tell me what I’m looking for?”
“Bethany McClintock’s car.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
BUD DIDN’T RECOGNIZE the voice, but he did the background noise. Whoever it was had called from outside one of the local bars. He could hear the gambling machines dinging over a country song on the jukebox.
“You do realize that you’re talking to the sheriff, right?”
“You want the car or not? You’re never going to find it from the air.”
“How is it that you know where it is?”
“How badly do you want the information? This is a onetime offer. If it’s worth five hundred bucks to you... Otherwise, I’m going to hang up.”
“Fine. Let’s meet and I’ll—”
“I think not. Put the five one-hundred-dollar bills into a small plain white envelope and seal it. On Sunday morning, write For New Roof on it and drop the envelope in Reverend Westlake’s collection plate. I’ll call you Sunday night with the information.”
“Wait a minute. How do I know—” But he realized the person had already hung up. Bud wanted to find the man and arrest him. Better yet, find him and get the truth out of him.
He told himself it was just some fool in town thinking he’d found a way to make a few bucks off someone’s misery. In this case, Bud’s own. But the caller had known that they were searching for—Bethany McClintock’s car. Unless his loudmouthed son had told someone...
All that night he tried to talk himself out of doing such a fool thing. He’d be better-off to take five hundred dollars out of his bank account and throw it into the wind. Either way, the money would be gone, and he’d be left feeling like a jerk.
But the next morning, he found himself headed for the bank.
* * *
BLAZE FELT JAKE pulling away from her. Yesterday when they returned to the ranch, he’d disappeared into the bunkhouse. Later she’d heard him leave in his pickup. She’d been visiting with her father and Allie while her father packed.
“We’re going down to Billings,” Monte had told her. “We feel the need to get away for a few days.”
She must have looked concerned because he’d tried to reassure her, giving her his cell phone number and saying they would be staying probably at the Northern Hotel, if she needed him.
“I didn’t ask you what your plans were now,” her father had said when he’d come out of his bedroom with his packed suitcase. “I would imagine you’ll be leaving.”
“Not yet,” she’d said. “Jake and I are still looking into Frank’s murder.” She’d noticed that Allie had been especially quiet all this time.
“Is that wise?” Allie had asked as if surprised. “I thought once your father was free...”
“Allie’s right,” he had said, looking just as concerned. “I think it’s best if you let it go. You’re welcome to stay on the ranch as long as you like, but I’d rather you let the sheriff handle it from here on out.”
She’d stared at him in surprise. “The sheriff? The same one who threw you in jail without any real evidence?”
Her father had looked as if he wanted to say more on the subject, but had merely given her a shake of his head and said, “Suit yourself. I know you will anyway.” And he and Allie had left.
She’d watched them go, noticing that Jake hadn’t returned. She’d just hoped he hadn’t gone back for more poker and another possible beating. Restless, she’d tried to watch a movie, but had been too distracted.
After a hot shower, she’d finally gone to bed. Sometime later she’d heard Jake return and, after a while, had finally fallen asleep.
But when she’d gotten up in the morning, she found his pickup gone. Standing in the kitchen, she thought of the pancakes and bacon he’d made her those mornings and yearned for that time together back.
Deciding to go into town for breakfast, she drove in, only to realize that she was short on cash. She swung by the bank, saw the long line at the drive-up window and parked. As she entered the building, she saw the sheriff at the first teller’s window. She thought about waiting in a longer line to avoid him, but she was hungry and went to stand in the shorter line behind him.
The sheriff was dressed in his uniform. He shifted from foot to foot as if anxious to get to work. When it was finally his turn, Blaze stood behind him waiting. She listened to the teller count out five hundred dollars, which the sheriff quickly pocketed in a way that made her suspicious. Was he also involved in these high-stakes poker games Jake had told her about?
“You’re just throwing your money away,” Blaze joked as he started past her toward the exit.
Bud seemed startled. She merely grinned and stepped up to the teller’s window he’d vacated to take care of her own business. When she was finished, she saw the sheriff getting into his patrol SUV across the street.
He glanced in her direction for a moment before ducking his head and sliding behind the wheel.
* * *
BUD HAD BARELY gotten settled behind his desk when he looked up to find Jake Horn standing in the doorway. His hand went to his pocket, where he’d stuffed the crisp bills, five hundred dollars’ worth, taken from his personal savings account.
The sight of the man reminded him of what Blaze McClintock had said to him as he was leaving the bank. Was it possible the two of them were in on this together? She’d seen him take the five hundred dollars out of his savings account. Was it coincidence that she just happened to be there this morning?
He told himself he was being paranoid as Jake stepped in and closed the door behind him
. Tell that to his pounding heart. If he was right, they weren’t waiting until Sunday service at the church.
“Can I help you?” Bud asked, thinking he wouldn’t mind throwing them both in jail.
“I’ve come into some information that I thought I should mention to you.”
He felt impatient and out of sorts.
“Spit it out. I’m busy.”
“It’s about your ex-wife, Lorna.”
That got Bud’s attention. He froze for a moment, staring at Horn. “What about her?” He knew she’d remarried some rancher in North Dakota. LJ had more contact with her than he did.
“I’m told she was pregnant when she married you.”
He felt all the air rush from his lungs as his heart took off like a wild stallion in the wind. When he found his voice, it came out high and thin. “That’s a damn lie,” he said, shoving to his feet.
Jake Horn said nothing for a moment. “You know that LJ is Frank’s son. Did Frank tell you? Or did you know long before you married Lorna?”
Bud braced himself on the desk. Had he been younger, he would have launched himself at the smug man.
“All it would take is a DNA test to prove it,” Jake continued. “Frank’s body is still at the morgue. Wouldn’t take much.”
“You need to get out of my office.” The words came out hard like bullets. But they seemed to bounce off Jake Horn as if he was bulletproof. Bulletproof just like Monte McClintock.
“That gives you one hell of a motive for murder, wouldn’t you say? It could also explain why you were so anxious to send Monte to prison. I wonder what the prosecutor would make of it.”
Bud pointed a quaking finger at him. “You...you...” He felt as if a piano had suddenly been dropped onto his chest. Gasping, he leaned forward over the desk. His vision blurred. He couldn’t catch his breath and the pain in his chest...
He heard Jake on the phone calling 911. The next thing he knew he was on the floor staring up at the ceiling. He couldn’t die now. Not until he found Bethany’s car. Not until he got her the justice she deserved.