by Sheryl Lynn
“You’re a lot easier to manhandle than a calf is. Especially since you aren’t bellowing for mama. Comfy?”
Not really, but he’d survive. “Food, please.”
She handed him a bowl.
The first bite of chile made her choke. She gulped water. “I forgot how hot you like food. Whew! That’s good stuff.” Her eyes watered, and her face turned red.
“Jalapeños, please.” He chuckled, and urged her to keep piling on the peppers. He ate a big bite. It wasn’t as tasty as Consuela’s, or even his uncle’s, but still not bad. “So, do you really think your father is a murderer?”
She froze with a spoon poised before her mouth. She blinked rapidly. Her expression went stiff and cold. “Isn’t that what you think?”
“Nope.”
Her mouth fell open.
“Tate has talked to people all over the valley. Tom’s private eye has been digging in nooks and crannies I didn’t even know existed. We can’t find any motive for murder.”
“So why are you checking out Axton? He doesn’t have a motive.”
Ric considered carefully what he needed to say. He had a good relationship with Jodi. He had grown to treasure every moment he spent with her. He was also developing a nice friendship with Elaine. He didn’t want to risk losing either by scaring her.
“On the day of the shooting, I talked to Bobby at the Track Shack. He told me he had a problem.”
She dropped her spoon in the bowl. At her feet, Buster pricked his ears, while his nostrils sought the scent of spilled food.
“He didn’t tell me what the problem was or with who. All he said was, it was personal. He called it shabby.”
“Why would he tell you he had a problem without saying what it was?”
Careful, he warned himself. “I could see something was bothering him so I asked. He didn’t want to tell me about it.”
“I see.”
She looked so relieved it hurt his heart. Logic said there were good reasons not to disrupt Jodi’s life by revealing her paternity. He sure didn’t want his daughter going through the same hell he’d gone through as a kid. Emotionally, however, it hurt that Elaine didn’t trust him.
“An earring in your dad’s car puts a whole new slant on things. If Del had a mistress, that’s a motive.”
She bristled. “The earring isn’t proof of anything. He drove a lot of clients around to show houses.”
“Don’t get all defensive. Besides, it’s hard to imagine your dad having an affair and nobody knowing about it.”
She turned her head and fidgeted.
A hunch said she was remembering their secret affair. The first time he’d gone to her home to pick her up for a date, Del Crowder had pitched a fit. “No bastard like you is hustling my girl for his cheap thrills,” Del had said. He’d flat out forbidden Elaine from having anything to do with Ric.
Someone had known Elaine and Ric had continued meeting on the sly, and she’d ended up pregnant as a result. That someone had threatened to tell Ric about Jodi if Bobby didn’t back off. Ric had come to realize that it couldn’t have been Del. He wouldn’t have handed Ric ammunition to make trouble for the McClintock clan—and Bobby had known it. A mistress, however, might make such a threat.
Or a greedy business partner. “Axton has a motive.”
Her brows knit in a scowl, then she laughed. “That’s absurd! Axton Cross is the nicest man in the world.”
Ric couldn’t disagree about the nice part. During his mission to scope out the realty, he’d enjoyed the hours he’d spent with the real estate broker. The man had a wicked sense of humor and a nose for ferreting out a bargain. Axton had gotten Ric a good deal on this property and managed to make the seller feel satisfied, too.
“He might have stumbled onto a pretty good scam.”
“He’s sweet and generous. Everyone likes him. He even kept the Crowder Realty name as a tribute to Daddy.”
“Insurance.” He paused, waiting for her to catch up. “Twenty years ago, Axton’s wife died in a car accident. He collected insurance.”
“He murdered his wife?”
He wagged an admonishing finger. “A few years after that, he was a partner in an import-export business in San Francisco. A warehouse containing their inventory burned to the ground. The company had been in big financial trouble before the fire. Insurance paid off very profitably.”
She shifted uncomfortably on the chair. “Accidents happen.”
“Then, Axton moved to Denver. He formed a partnership with a home builder. The market collapsed. The two were scrambling to save their shirts. Then lo and behold, the partner goes skiing, hits a tree and Axton collects insurance again.”
Her slender throat worked with a hard swallow.
“Like Tate says, two incidents make a coincidence. More than that forms a pattern. Axton collected half a million dollars when your father died.”
She snorted and flapped a hand. “So what? That’s standard business practice when the company is so dependent on its owners. The money went to business debts, not into Axton’s pocket.”
Ric still hadn’t figured out exactly how Axton could have known about Jodi. In retrospect, he and Elaine had been pretty dumb to think they’d kept their affair secret. King McClintock himself had caught them together and threatened Ric with jail and Elaine with telling her father. Anyone who could count could have figured out there was something fishy about the timing of Jodi’s birth. Axton might have heard some gossip and on a hunch used it to blackmail Bobby.
“It seems kind of odd that Axton would move from Denver, a hot real estate market, to take a job as an agent in a piddly little town. Then, less than two years later, Del takes him on as a full partner.”
“But nobody murdered Daddy! It was a heart attack. And not exactly an unexpected one either. He had heart problems for years.”
“What if Bobby found out about the other partnerships and the insurance money? Was Del aware of Axton’s history?”
Her gaze turned distant, and her forehead wrinkled in concentration. “I really do not know. But if Bobby knew about it, he would have told me.”
“Unless he wasn’t sure. Bobby never tolerated gossip. If he heard some dirt and didn’t trust the source, I can see him talking to Axton about it. If the man turned mean or Bobby caught him lying, then Bobby would have gone to your dad.”
“And Axton shot Bobby to shut him up?” She shook her head so hard her hair whipped her cheeks. “Unbelievable!”
“Whether you believe it or not, Tom is pursuing it. If he finds one shred of hard evidence, then Tate will force your uncle to reopen the investigation.” He snorted a dry laugh. “If King doesn’t fire him first.”
“If it turns out Daddy is a murderer and a cheat or a thief or whatever else, Mama will be crushed. Marlee and Davis will be devastated. Jodi will be, too.”
“I can’t let a murderer walk. Can you?”
She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. He ached for her, but knew of no way to ease her pain. He touched her knee. The bedroom, small to begin with, felt far too intimate. He longed to touch her face, to kiss her.
“I don’t want to cause you or your family any more agony than you’ve already suffered. Honest to God, Laney, I do not. I agree with you, if Del did murder Bobby, then justice hit fast and hard. Let it lie. But…” He stared, willing her to look at him. “If there’s a killer running loose, he has to be caught. Talk to Tate. Tell him about the trash and the earring. In return, listen to what he has to say.”
“Then what?”
“Then we’ll decide what to do about Tom.”
Chapter Five
Forcing a big smile, Elaine waved to her mother. Lillian drove out of the church parking lot. Usually they went to church in the same car. On this Sunday, Elaine claimed she was staying in town to have lunch with her friend Alice. That she’d refrained from mentioning she first meant to speak to Tate Raleigh sat ill with her. It worsened the tummyache she’d suffered sinc
e talking to Ric. There were too many secrets, too many lies, and all of them were spinning out of control.
She refused to believe Axton Cross had anything to do with the tragedy at the lodge. The note she’d found in Bobby’s pocket proved it. Axton hadn’t known Ric or the circumstances of Jodi’s birth. The note was tucked in her purse. Revealing it meant explaining what Bobby and she had done to Ric. She’d only show it if she absolutely had to.
What a mess.
She drove up Main Street and parked across from the Track Shack Bar and Grill. The stubby building squatted next to railroad tracks that hadn’t been used in over fifty years. It had been Bobby’s favorite place to meet with other cattlemen for coffee and conversation. Elaine could count on one hand the number of times she’d been inside.
Forget it, she told herself. This was nuts. Who cared if Tom Greene hired a hundred private eyes and ferreted out skeletons in every closet in McClintock?
An opposing voice nagged that Bobby deserved better than dark secrets and shameful lies. If the possibility existed that a murderer had escaped, she was duty bound to pursue it.
She wanted to throw up.
Hugging herself against an icy wind, she crossed the street as quickly as her high heels allowed. At the door, she shied away from the handle. The bar was closed on Sundays. So, if it was locked, forget it. She’d go to Alice’s house. If it wasn’t locked, then it was a sign to continue. She tugged the door handle and it opened.
“God help me,” she whispered and walked inside.
Ric sat at the only table that didn’t have chairs stacked atop it. An aroma of strong coffee and hot grease made her stomach churn. Ric’s gaze dropped to her legs. He raised an eyebrow. She tugged the hem of her suit jacket and smoothed a hand over her skirt.
“Hi,” she said.
Ric stood. “I was afraid you wouldn’t show.”
She was relieved to see that though he moved stiffly, Ric didn’t seem to be in pain.
“You look nice,” he said.
The compliment made her fluttery. She patted her windblown hair, bemused by a sudden desire to apply fresh lipstick. He looked nice himself, with his lean, muscular torso emphasized by an olive green sweater. It wasn’t right that the mere sight of him made her giddy.
“Where’s Tate?” She settled on the chair he offered.
“Frying up some burgers. Have you thought about what we talked about?”
“I haven’t been able to do anything else.” She set her purse on the floor and tucked it, and its damning missive, under her chair. She should tell Ric about Jodi, but she feared his reaction. If he got angry and cut himself off from Jodi, the girl would be crushed. Or he could do worse by insisting on telling Jodi the truth, then Lillian would know, and Tom and Gwen would know. Folks would whisper and gossip. Things were better the way they were.
Tate pushed backward through swinging batwing doors. He carried a tray piled with hamburgers, steaming French fries and bottled condiments. He wore his deputy’s uniform: tan shirt, black tie, dark trousers, equipment belt and shiny badge. The uniform drove home how very serious this situation was. Were it only Tom Greene making noise, she could pity him for his grief and pray he’d give up his obsession and find peace. That Tate, who had no personal stake, involved himself at the risk of his job and standing in town, meant that no amount of hoping and wishing would make this situation go away.
“Hey, there!” Tate called. “Glad you could make it. Will you join us for lunch?”
She doubted if she could choke down a sliver of lettuce. “I’m not hungry, thank you. But do go ahead.”
“Your loss. I fry a mean burger.”
Ric began dressing a hamburger with mustard and ketchup. “I haven’t seen Junior in a while. Where’s he keeping himself these days?”
“Fishing. If he isn’t fishing, he’s thinking about it.”
“You know, if it wasn’t for Junior, I never would have made it through high school.” Ric laughed softly and pointed to the end of the bar closest to the door. “I learned all I know about algebra sitting right there.”
“I’m surprised Bobby didn’t help you,” Elaine said, thankful for the small talk. “He was a math whiz.”
“That’s the problem. It was too easy for him. I couldn’t follow what he was saying. You wouldn’t have believed it, Tate, but Bobby could do calculations in his head faster than a computer.”
“He could have been a top accountant or engineer. But he hated being cooped up indoors.” Elaine smiled at the good memories. “It used to drive Daddy crazy. He’d have books spread all over the table, trying to figure out how come they wouldn’t balance. Bobby would saunter by and say something like, ‘You forgot to carry the two,’ and he’d be right. He kept all the books for the ranch.” She sighed, wishing Bobby were here, hating that he wasn’t.
“I sure liked him,” Tate said. “Ric tells me you might know something about the shooting.”
Tension returned, and so did the tummyache. Elaine drew a deep breath, then repeated to the deputy what she’d told Ric. She pulled her purse onto her lap and opened it. The note was in an envelope, but she could not make herself bring it out. She found the earring and placed it on the table. It was a clip-on style with rhinestones glittering in the shape of a flower.
“You’re sure it isn’t your mother’s?” Tate asked. He turned the earring in the light.
“Mama wouldn’t be caught dead wearing junk jewelry. Besides, her ears are pierced.”
“Hmm. And you went through all his papers at home?”
Unable to look either man in the eye, she confessed, “I even searched his bedroom when Mama was out.” She rubbed her aching throat. “Daddy had a few enemies. He was a bit of a snob.” A glimpse of Ric’s skeptical expression made her face warm. “All right, he was a horrible snob. He could be rather…nasty at times. If tenants were late paying rent, he evicted them. He was immune to sob stories. He liked to play one-upmanship games with agents from other realties. He was a good man, but he had his dark side. If he was doing something illegal, there are plenty of people who would love to tell you all about it.”
She gazed unhappily at the earring. “He could be very charming. He liked to flirt. Mama didn’t mind, she considered it harmless. I hate to think he’d cheat, but it’s not impossible. He was handsome and aggressive. Not to mention, very wealthy. Some women might have taken his flirting seriously.”
“Does he have a history of affairs?” Tate asked.
“I can’t imagine Mama keeping quiet about something like that. She isn’t shy.”
“I can attest to that,” Tate said with a chuckle. “She’s a set of fireworks all by herself. So if she did catch him playing footsie with another woman, what would she do? Divorce?”
“I honestly don’t know.” It made her shudder to even imagine such a scenario.
“Del struck me as the sort who liked being rich.”
Elaine had to agree.
“A divorce would have cost him plenty.”
“Daddy made good money from the realty, and he owned fifteen rental properties. Still, it’s a pittance compared to Mama’s holdings.” This was so awful. With every word out of her mouth, her father’s motive for murder looked clearer. She turned on the chair to avoid the smell of food and the sight of the men eating.
Tate stroked his chin, and his eyes narrowed beneath a thoughtful scowl. “If I caught my father-in-law fooling around, there ain’t no way I’d confront him. The wife would have a fit. Be all kinds of yelling and crying. I’d end up being the bad guy. Uh-uh, not a chance. I’d pass the buck to my old lady and let her handle it. It’s a guy thing. Why didn’t Bobby tell you?”
Many a long, lonely night she’d lain in bed and asked herself that very question. “I guess he wanted to protect my feelings. Or he didn’t want me telling Mama. I don’t know. I thought we talked about everything.”
“I can’t buy it.”
She slumped on the chair. “Bobby probably wanted Dad
dy to quit before Mama caught him.”
“Without you even suspecting?”
“Do you think I’m lying? Have you any idea how hard this is? It’s my father we’re talking about! I loved him!”
Ric took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “We’re looking for the truth.”
She jerked her hand from his. “Don’t play good cop bad cop with me.” She swallowed hard against the thickness growing in her throat. “I adored my father. I know his faults. I’m not blind. But I still loved him. Now he’s gone. He cannot answer for what he did. Mama will have to do that. Is that what you want? Do you want people whispering about her? Calling Daddy a murderer? A cheat? They were married thirty-five years. No matter what he did, he loved her. If Mama finds out about this, it’ll be like killing him all over again.”
She pushed the earring closer to Tate. “Suppose Tom’s private eye finds a woman who claims she was Daddy’s mistress. There’s the motive. Then what happens? You force Uncle King to properly investigate the shooting as a murder? You find evidence that Daddy pulled the trigger on purpose, that he wanted Bobby dead? Tell me what good can come from it.”
The men exchanged a look. Tate asked, “What about Axton—”
The door opened and Tate called over his shoulder, “Sorry, we’re closed.”
Sheriff King McClintock strode into the bar. He wore his hat pulled down low and his coat collar turned up. His boot steps made the floor vibrate. Elaine noticed the way Ric stiffened, alert and wary.
“Well, well, what have we got here?” King cocked back his hat with a thumb. He planted himself behind Tate’s shoulder, forcing the deputy to twist in order to see. “I thought that was your Jeep, honey. Slumming?”
“Cup of coffee, sheriff?” Tate asked. He made as if to push his chair back, but King blocked him. Tate squeezed sideways away from the table. King propped a foot on the vacated seat and rested his arms on his thigh.