by ANDREA SMITH
Then Dalton had shared something with Courtney she hadn’t known, and wouldn’t have known because Billy Ray Jensen was a teetotaler and never stepped foot inside of The Peak. He was gone. His livestock was gone, his truck was gone, and the house had been emptied out. There was a “No Trespassing” sign nailed to a tree in his front yard.
“Are you serious?” she’d asked, her eyes widening in surprise? “What spooked him? He’s been a fixture in this county like - forever!”
“You okay, boy?” Duel asked, bringing Dalton back to the here and now. “Something troubling you?”
“No . . . uh, I guess I was just thinking about what you just said about the local authorities. You know Billy Ray Jensen told me more than once he didn’t trust law enforcement even though he came from that world. I’m just a bit antsy like a lot of the folks around here. And now with Billy Ray disappearing ...” he allowed his voice to drift off to silence, not finishing his thought because he really didn’t have the words to explain them. He closed the lid to the grain bin and faced Duel. All Dalton knew was that he had no plausible explanation as to why Jensen would have fled the community where he’d lived all his life, and left in the manner which he did. Quick and unnoticed.
Duel burst out laughing at Dalton’s last statement. It wasn’t quite the reaction he expected.
“Dalton, boy you must have a flair for the dramatic! Billy Ray didn’t disappear!, he said, still highly amused.
“No?” Dalton replied, arching an eyebrow in question.
“Naw, he’s been looking to relocate for a while now. Asked me if I was interested in buying his livestock and his farm. Actually he sold them to me at a price below market value. Said he had a family situation and needed to relocate to be closer. He moved on over to West Virginia. His older brother lives over there and recently lost his wife, and then took ill. Billy said he felt he was needed there, and hell, he was tired of farming. I can understand his need for a change. I actually did him a favor by taking that place off his hands. It was too much for the old fella,” Duel explained.
“Oh yeah?” Dalton replied, “Didn’t know he felt that way. Course I guess I didn’t know him as well and you and your family did. But do you really need more land than you already have?” It wasn’t really and of Dalton’s business, but he felt compelled to ask.
Duel chewed on a toothpick and straightened up from where he’d been leaning against a post in the barn. “Well, I couldn’t very well pass it up at the price he was asking. Besides, I’d like to grow more crops for feed, and with the additional livestock I bought, they’d feel right at home there. The way I see it, the bad rap this county is taking at present, not only statewide, but also nationally. Add the fact Billy’s property borders the Hatfield massacre site, I think he wanted to cut his losses and run. Can’t much blame him for that.”
Dalton nodded, “Yeah, makes sense I guess. But where are Billy’s goats and sheep now? Do you want me to handle their care?”
“Thanks, but not necessary Dalton. I’m pasturing them over at the boys place near Pebbles for now. They’ve got plenty of room over there and it’s already fenced in. Won’t hurt either one of them to take on some more responsibilities. They won’t have to drive clear into Briarton in order to pasture them, and facing all the BCI agents still hovering around is unsettling for the whole town. In fact, I think it might be therapeutic for them at this point in time.”
“That right?” Dalton asked, quirking a questioning brow. “Is Brant having a hard time with this? I mean being a single dad full-time and all?”
“You could say that,” Duel remarked. “Sally Jo’s keeping Maddie most of the time for now, but the truth is, he’s tore up mostly about that newborn baby boy of Tammy’s.”
“Why’s that?” Dalton asked. “Does he think the boy is his?”
“Damn right he does,” Duel replied, anger evident in his voice. “Those two, for whatever reason, just couldn’t leave one another alone. Problem is, his name isn’t on the birth certificate like it should be. That . . . loser James Barton’s name is on it. We’re gonna have to fix that.”
Dalton scratched his head in genuine confusion. He remembered something that Harlan had said which was very similar to what Duel had just shared with him. “Yeah, Harlan said the same thing as you just said, Duel, about Tammy and Brant. Wouldn’t that be some crazy shit if it turns out you’re right about that? But I have to ask, are you saying that baby’s name is Barton Barton?” Dalton asked with a grin.
“Hell no,” Duel snapped. “That’s another damn reason we believe Tammy knew Brant was the father. She named that baby Barton Hatfield. What does that tell you?”
Frankly, it was proof of nothing as far as Dalton was concerned. Wives didn’t always take their husband’s surnames anymore; babies born out of wedlock were named to suit the mother’s fancy. It could be Tammy wanted to appease James Barton that the baby was indeed his, and the fact she was still a Hatfield made the name combination a good fit. “So how you planning on fixing it, Duel?” he asked.
“Already in the works. Ma’s lawyer has filed a Motion for DNA testing for the baby in order to establish true paternity. That baby should have what is rightfully his.”
Dalton couldn’t argue with Duel’s statement, but something inside told him the meaning of his words might just go both ways.
Chapter 26
Monday morning found Dalton Edwards walking up the steps to the Briar County Courthouse in Waverly. Specifically en route to the Probate Division. Something Duel had mentioned the other day about Tammy’s infant son deserving what is his. Ordinarily, Dalton would’ve presumed that meant the McCoy fortune. But for some nagging reason he wasn’t convinced that was Duel McCoy’s true intent.
Once in the clerk’s office, he jumped on one of the available computers, and pulled up the docket index. He typed in Vince Hatfield’s name and saw that an inventory had been filed and approved by the judge just a couple of days back. He pulled up the inventory list and saw the only things listed were the various automobiles he had on the property used for demolition derbies. That seemed strange to Dalton what with all the land, buildings and livestock the Hatfields owned.
Dalton pulled up the document that was titled Fiduciary Appointed and scanned the dock to see that apparently the family attorney was serving as Fiduciary, and another attorney had been appointed Guardian ad Litem over Tammy’s two babies until paternity was established for both.
He shut down the computer and walked up to the desk where one of the clerks gave him a flirty smile and asked, “Can I help you?”
“Yes, M’am,” Dalton replied, giving her his signature smile. Her nametag read ‘Debbie.’
“So Deb,” he said, “I wonder if maybe I can see the files on a probate case. I checked it out online, but I wonder if access to the actual files might provide further details, I mean, if that’s allowed,” he finished.
“Well sure thing. Do you have the case number?”
“I do,” Dalton replied as he handed her the scrap of paper where he’d written down the case number and her breath immediately hitched. “Oh my,” she said, “That was certainly a tragedy, wasn’t it? Are you family?”
“Not by blood, but I was good friends of the Hatfields. I was just a little curious about the inventory of the estate. Nothing listed but those demolition cars. Seems strange.”
She nodded, standing up and turning to walk back to where the file room was located. Dalton couldn’t help but notice her short skirt and long legs. And he could tell she enjoyed showing off her body by the way she walked, swinging her hips from side to side.
She returned just a couple of minutes later, and motioned for him to step inside the swinging gate where she’d taken a seat at a desk, placing the manila folder in the center. “Take a seat. Let me see if I can’t untangle some of this for you,” she said tossing her hair behind her back and blessing him w
ith another flirty smile. “I’m no expert, but I think by going through some of the attorney’s filings, I might be able to clarify the present situation.”
She pulled out some papers from the attorney who was assigned as fiduciary and quickly scanned it. “Okay, see here?” she asked, placing the paper in front of Dalton. It was on the attorney’s letterhead. “This here says that Vince Hatfield made arrangements with his personal attorney appointing him as fiduciary of his estate upon his death. That’s not all that unusual. Keeps the family members from feuding with one another. Believe me, I’ve seen some horrific feuds take place. By having a neutral and objective professional handling the details, it really minimized that risk. Now it also looks as if Mr. Hatfield wanted a minimal amount of his property to go through Probate, which does take a lot of time, and can cost more money. So he didn’t die intestate. He had a will . . . see here?” she asked, pushing a stapled stack of papers that had Vince’s notarized signature and that of his attorney over to Dalton.
Dalton scanned through it and saw that Vince had put his land, buildings, farm implements, livestock, bank accounts, life insurance policies and automobiles titled in his name into Payable or Transferable Upon Death in equal shares to his surviving spouse followed by surviving blood related next of-kin in succession with his blood children first, then blood grandchildren, followed by blood brothers, sisters, nieces and nephews to follow after that. Surviving blood grandparents and then cousins were at the bottom of the inheritance totem pole.
“So Deb,” Dalton said, “It looks like Vince Hatfield had a pecking order for his estate so he could avoid the Probate process on most everything, is that right?”
“Exactly,” she replied smiling.
“So Debbie, let me ask you this: what’s with this Guardian Ad Litem deal with his two grandbabies? I know for a fact that the oldest girl, Maddie, has a father who pays her support and has a relationship with the child. Wouldn’t he automatically get custody?”
“Well, the way it works is when there are minor children involved in a . . . situation like this . . . the county automatically appoints an outside attorney to act as G.A.L. just until they sort things out.”
She leafed through a few more papers. “Oh, I see here that there’s been a DNA blood test ordered for the newborn baby. Apparently there was some doubt raised by a non-family member who wishes to determine paternity of the youngest child and has petitioned the court to order it. That can happen when the child is under two years of age.”
Dalton nodded. It all made sense now. Duel McCoy was determined to find out if Maddie would inherit one hundred percent of the estate, or possibly have to split it with Barton’s next-of-kin.
He stood up and held his hand out to Debbie to shake it. She placed her hand in his, giving it a playful squeeze.
“Thank you Debbie,” he said, “You’ve been an incredible help with this.”
“Anytime,” she said with a wink.
“Could you point me in the direction of the County Recorder’s office?” he asked.
“Sure thing. Take the elevator up to the third floor, and it’s the second door to your left after you step off.”
Dalton found his way there, and once again pulled up property transfer files for the county. There it was. A quitclaim deed executed a week after the Hatfield murders transferring Billy Ray Jensen’s farm to Duel McCoy for the sum of $60,000. The signatures were notarized by Sally Jo McCoy. Dalton paid a buck for a copy of the deed and headed out, his mind churning with possibilities.
As Dalton walked back down the steps of the Probate Court, he now knew that Duel McCoy was a person of interest. And, despite the fact that Dalton was no longer an asset of the D.E.A. he was not giving up on getting to the bottom of the Hatfield massacre.
After all, he still worked for Duel so he was in a prime position to observe Duel’s activities. Whether he was an active participant, or covering for his sons, or both, Dalton was determined to find the truth. And the first truth he needed to find was something other than the copy of the quitclaim deed folded up in his pocket to compare the signature of Billy Ray Jensen to another public record that could be made available.
Chapter 27
Two days later, Dalton was back working his shift at West Fork Ranch, watching as Duel seemed to be pre-occupied with non-ranch issues. He’d been in and out all day, doing business errands and going to appointments he’d explained to Dalton.
“Things are a might busy around here what with being shorthanded,” he explained to Dalton. “The boys need me to lend a hand over at their place for a bit, so I’ll need you to take charge over here, Dalton. Are you up for it?” he asked.
“Absolutely,” Dalton replied, “Anything you need done, just make a list and I’ll see to it, Duel. So the boys are busy, huh?”
“Yeah, got their hands full with the livestock and some crops coming in. I feel like I need to lend a hand, make sure they know what they’re doing. Thanks for stepping up for me here. I’ll be back around three or four. If you could get the horse trailer cleaned out and washed up, put some fresh straw in it, check the tires and air them up if needed that would sure help me out. I’m taking them to the vet in Lexington tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll do it,” Dalton assured him. “Do you need me back here tomorrow to help you load them up, Duel?”
“No need. I’m leaving pretty early. Just come by around nine or ten o’clock and clean out their stalls, put out fresh feed and water before I get back. Grant’s going with me, and Brant is working at their place all day. Just take off when you’re done. Oh, and I appreciate your coming in on one of your off days to help out.”
“No problem, Duel. I’ll handle it. No worries.”
Dalton got his normal chores finished and then started on the horse trailer. Duel generally took a dozen of the Falabella miniatures at a time to the veterinarian down in Lexington. Apparently, they needed monthly check-ups to make sure their blood tests showed no abnormalities that might require a change in their feed mix or vitamin shots, Duel had once explained. Then two weeks later, Duel would take the rest of them to the vet to go through the same damn thing.
To Dalton, it seemed like these tiny horses were extremely delicate creatures and he hadn’t seen too much breeding activity taking place, at least for as long as he’d been working at the ranch. But then, he was only there three days a week so he could’ve missed all the horseplay days. He laughed out loud at his own thought. The truth was, he didn’t really know shit about horses, big or little.
Once he finished up, he was done for the day and took off heading for The Peak. He’d given Courtney a copy of the quitclaim deed, and asked if she could find a way to dig up something else with Billy Ray Jensen’s signature. She assured him she’d be on it.
He pulled into the parking lot and was glad to see the place wasn’t packed yet for happy hour. The bar was deserted, and there were a sprinkling of patrons over in the booths, watching a baseball game on the flat screen.
Courtney came bustling around from the back, carrying a tray of clean beer mugs for the cooler. “Well hey there, Dalton,” she greeted. “Thought you’d be in a little earlier.”
Dalton took a seat on one of the empty stools, tapping his palms against the surface of the bar. “Had some extra duties today,” he replied, watching as Courtney stacked the mugs inside of the cooler. “Got any frosty mugs left?” he asked with a grin.
“Sure do, your favorite IP draft?”
“Absolutely.”
Courtney drew him the dark draft and placed it on the bar in front of him. She glanced over at the other customers to make sure they were staying put before she pulled a folded packet of paper from her back jean pocket and handed it over to Dalton. “Check it out,” she said quietly.
Dalton unfolded the papers. One was the quitclaim deed copy he’d given her, the other was an index card for Billy Ray Jensen
’s voter registration. It was the original.
“How the hell....?” he started as he glanced at the signature and seeing they didn’t come close to matching one another.
“Don’t ask,” Courtney replied with a snicker. “Let’s just say I have a lot of respect for Wilma Styer still working at the Briar County Board of Elections at the age of seventy-seven what with her incontinence issues and all.”
Dalton gave a chuckle. “I can make a copy of this if you want to sneak the original back into her files,” he offered.
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Courtney replied, “It’s all online, that’s how I knew Jensen was registered to vote, but I needed to see the actual card he signed to see his signature. Besides,” she continued, “I don’t think Billy Ray will be votin’ around here anymore. I don’t think Billy Ray will be votin’ at all if you want to know my opinion.”
“Whoa, slow down Courtney. This is at best, something we can have analyzed by an expert in handwriting for forgery, but it’s a stretch to say it proves murder.”
“Find the body,” she quipped, “I’d bet a year’s worth of tips he’s dead. And tell me, now that you’re ‘persona non grata’ with the Feds, how will you get these signatures analyzed?”
Dalton took a long draw of his beer. “Courtney, Courtney,” he said, giving her a grin, “I have resources. Never doubt that I have my ways,” he finished with a wink.
“Of that I’m sure,” she replied shaking her head. “Keep me posted.”
Chapter 28
Dalton left the bar and made a quick phone call to Jack from his new phone. He wasn’t sure Jack would answer a call coming in from an unknown number, but only agency colleagues had this number so he was hoping that’d be enough. Turned out that it was.