Wyoming Bold (9781460320891)

by Palmer, Diana

  “You can’t go.”

  “Why not?”

  Clara laughed. “You have a very nice future ahead of you, right here in Wyoming. And no, I won’t tell you what it is.”

  Merissa grimaced. “Well, it doesn’t contain Dalton, I’m sure of that. He almost left a trail of fire behind him getting out of the driveway.”

  Clara didn’t say a word. She just smiled.

  * * *

  IT WAS ALMOST inevitable; the migraine. It came on an hour or two after Merissa’s odd conversation with Tank.

  She was sitting in the living room with her mother, watching the news, when she began to feel the effects.

  She rubbed her temple with obvious pain. It was like a knife in her right eye. When she opened it again, her field of vision in that eye looked like the static on a television station that was temporarily off the air.

  “Oh, dear,” she said, feeling nausea rise.

  “You’d better take something while you still can,” Clara said worriedly.

  “I’ll do it right now.”

  She went quickly to her room, picked up the bottle that contained the capsules that she took for her headaches. She should have noticed that they weren’t in the drawer where she’d put them. They were sitting on the table under the lamp. But she was hurting too badly to pay attention.

  She shook one capsule out into her hand and popped it into her mouth, swallowing some water to get it down. The prescription was for two, but she hoped she’d taken it early enough to prevent the headache from developing.

  While she sipped water from the plastic bottle on the same table as the pills, she glanced at the window curiously. The blinds were askew. She straightened them before she moved back to the bed and slid down onto it. Clara brought her a wet washcloth and put it over her eyes. “Just lie still, honey,” she told the younger woman. “It will pass soon. Can I get you anything?”

  “No, I’ll...be fine. I just took one capsule. Maybe it will be enough. Turn off the light and close the curtains, will you?” she whispered.

  “At once.”

  She did, and tiptoed out, closing the door behind her.

  * * *

  THE PHONE RANG at the Kirk ranch. Mallory picked it up. “Hello?”

  There was a hysterical barrage of words from Clara. As he listened, Mallory’s face grew quickly somber.

  “Yes, I’ll tell him. Is Carson with you?”

  He listened and nodded. “Did you call the EMTs? Okay. Fine. Yes, we’ll be right there. Try not to worry.”

  “What’s up?” the others asked, almost in unison.

  “Merissa’s in the hospital. Apparently she took a capsule for a migraine headache and had a violent reaction to it. We’re going to pick Clara up on the way to the hospital.”

  Before he could even get the words out, Tank was headed out the back door.

  Mallory called Darby on his cell phone. “You drive him, I don’t care what he says,” he told the foreman after he’d given him the bare bones of the conversation. “He’ll kill himself trying to get there alone. Don’t worry about Clara, we’ll pick her up and take her to the hospital with us.” There was a pause. “She said Carson was setting up some sort of devices out on the property. She hasn’t seen him in a while. We’ll worry about that later. Drive Tank to the hospital. Hurry!”

  He hung up and looked at his family. “He’ll head him off and drive him to town,” he assured them.

  “We should go, too,” Cane replied.

  “Yes. You stay here with the baby,” Mallory told Morie, “and you should stay, too,” he added, smiling at Bolinda. “I know, but it’s really bad outside and you’re delicate. Morie can’t leave the baby and she needs someone with her,” he lied.

  Morie grinned. “Yes, she does.”

  “Okay, then, but give Merissa my love,” Bodie agreed finally.

  Cane gave Mallory a grateful look.

  “Mine, too,” Morie told her husband.

  He nodded, kissed her gently and left Cane to say a brief, affectionate goodbye to his own wife. Then they drove over to pick up Clara and rushed to the hospital.

  * * *

  TANK WAS PACING the waiting room.

  “How is she?” Mallory asked as he and Clara and Cane moved to Tank’s side.

  “Bad,” Tank said unsteadily. “They won’t tell me anything because I’m not a relative,” he added angrily.

  “It’s all right,” Clara said. She’d been crying, but suddenly she was more positive. “I’ll find out what’s going on.”

  “You sent those capsules she was taking with the EMTs, didn’t you?” Mallory asked.

  She nodded. “Yes, I did. The first thing I thought was that it was an allergic reaction. She only took one, so maybe it isn’t too bad. I made sure they took the bottle along with her. I’ll see if I can find out anything.” She went to the emergency room desk.

  “They were doing tests, they told me,” Tank said to his brothers. “Tests! They won’t let me see her,” he groaned.

  “Take it easy,” Cane said gently. “Just breathe. We’ll know something soon. Okay?”

  Tank calmed down. He nodded.

  Mallory put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “First rule of medicine is ‘do no harm,’” he reminded him. “If they treat her in the dark they could kill her. If you weren’t so upset, you’d know that.”

  Tank looked up at him with the fear in his eyes that she wouldn’t recover, that they wouldn’t be in time...

  The doctor, a small, dark-haired woman in a lab coat with a musical accent came to where they were standing in the waiting room, with a relieved Clara at her side. “It’s all right. We know how to treat her now,” she said, smiling. “The interesting thing is that, after we ran the toxicology screen on the capsules and a blood sample, we couldn’t understand how she would ingest such a substance in a headache remedy. There was no trace of it on her mouth, her clothing...”

  “What was it?” Tank asked.

  “I could give you the technical name, but you probably know it as Malathion. It’s used...”

  “As a pesticide,” Tank said for her. “Yes, we use it on the ranch. It’s considered one of the safer methods...”

  “The capsules were tampered with,” she interrupted gently. “Someone substituted the Malathion for the prescription medicine. It was a very professional sort of job, although there was not enough in the one capsule her mother said she ingested to kill her, but there was enough to make her very sick. All the remaining capsules in the bottle were similarly replaced with the pesticide, with a very pure form of it. I’ve telephoned the authorities. It is my professional opinion that she was deliberately poisoned.”

  “Good God!” Tank burst out, agonized. His face tautened. “Will she live?”

  “I think so,” she said cautiously. “We’ll keep her on cardiovascular support, administer antidotes, keep her sedated. You need to contact law enforcement, as well,” she added. “This was an ugly business. For someone to do such a thing to a young woman...it’s monstrous.”

  “Yes, it is,” Tank agreed. “Can I see her?” he asked. “Please?”

  “And me?” Clara pleaded.

  The doctor was kind, but firm. “I would love to be able to do that, but we must work to save her life. If she had ingested more, or there had been a long delay in getting her to the hospital, she would certainly be dead.”

  “When can we see her?” Tank persisted.

  “Come back in a few hours. We’ll see,” she promised. “Meanwhile, try not to worry. I think the prognosis will be good, since she was seen so quickly.”

  “Okay, then.” He managed a smile. “Thanks.”

  She smiled back. “We’ll take good care of her.”

  * * *

 
TANK DIDN’T WANT to leave. He wanted to sit with her, comfort her, hold on to her. When he thought of the deliberate poisoning, the underhanded, low-down manner of it, he wanted to kill the man who had him targeted.

  “We have to find this perp,” Tank told his brothers on the way to Clara’s house. “We have to find him now, before he kills her! Why her?” he added in anguish. “Why not just kill me?”

  “He seems to be into torture,” Cane said quietly. “He’s playing with you. If he’d put enough Malathion in those capsules, she’d be dead already. He just wanted to make her sick, to scare you.”

  “Well, it worked,” Tank said through his teeth.

  They didn’t comment. Mallory, who was driving, pulled up at the cabin. All three got out, along with Clara, who was sitting in the cramped second seat.

  “Cody isn’t here yet,” Mallory noted, looking around, referring to the sheriff. “I called him before we left the hospital.”

  “Can we see her room?” Tank asked.

  “Of course...”

  “No,” Mallory said, stopping him. “It’s a crime scene now. Let Cody’s investigator get to work.”

  “Crime scene,” Tank said numbly.

  “Attempted murder,” Mallory replied tersely. “If we can catch him now, he’ll go away for a very long time. We just have to prove it was him.”

  Carson came from around the side of the house. “I’ve got cameras on top of cameras...” He stopped, staring uncomprehending at the others. “What’s happened?”

  “You didn’t hear the ambulance?” Tank asked, astonished.

  Carson scowled. “What ambulance? No, I’ve been all over the property putting up sensors...” He stopped and stared at them. “Oh, my God. Merissa?”

  “She’ll be all right, the doctor thinks,” Tank said worriedly. But he looked at Clara and she was nodding and smiling. He relaxed a little.

  “I was only gone for thirty minutes,” Carson groaned. “I didn’t realize it would take so long. God, I’m sorry!” he told Clara.

  “It’s all right,” she said. “She’s going to be fine.”

  “The sheriff’s on his way,” Tank told Carson. “With his investigator. Don’t touch anything.”

  Carson’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll go along with the investigator if there’s a trail. I can track an ant.” He moved closer to Tank. “You can slug me, if you like.”

  “You were trying to protect them,” Tank said heavily. “I might have done the same thing. At least she didn’t die.”

  “What happened to her?” Carson asked, still grim.

  “She took what she thought was a prescription medicine for a headache,” Clara said, “but someone had substituted Malathion for the drug in the capsules. It’s a miracle it didn’t kill her. She only took one capsule, thank God.”

  “I don’t think that was his purpose at all,” Mallory repeated. “I don’t think he meant to kill her. He’s toying with Tank.”

  Carson’s eyes narrowed. “I knew a guy like that once, who worked in spec ops,” he said, frowning curiously. “Eb knew him. He came along for a special job overseas. He was an independent contractor for the government, like us. His specialty was covert assassination, but not with military hardware. He was an expert at disguising poisons as medicine. He was assigned to take out a military strategist, but he did it over a period of days, using different everyday poisons to torment the man before he gave him the final dose. None of us liked the way he worked. He enjoyed killing.”

  The brothers looked at each other with sudden inspiration. “What did he look like?” Tank asked.

  “Insignificant sort of man,” he replied. “Medium height, nasal drawl. The only thing about him that stood out was his hair. It was a flaming orange color.”

  “I can see how that would help him camouflage himself,” Cane said facetiously.

  “I always thought he did it to draw attention away from his face,” Carson replied. “His hair was concealed when he went out at night anyway, not much risk of anyone seeing it. He did wet work with knives, as well. He bragged about one job, but when he saw the reaction he was getting from us, he clammed up.” His face hardened. “Anybody who enjoys killing needs help. I did it for ideological reasons, to help save innocents. He did it for fun.”

  “This man,” Tank said slowly. “Did he have a nick on one ear?”

  Carson blinked. “A what?”

  “Did he have a cut on one ear, a scar?”

  “I don’t remember. I can’t say I noticed.” He smiled faintly. “I was too occupied with the sight of that flaming mop of hair.”

  Tank’s cell phone rang. It was the hospital. In fact, it was the doctor herself, whom he’d given his phone number.

  “She is awake,” she told him, “and feeling somewhat better now.”

  “I’m on my way,” Tank replied.

  “Go,” Mallory said when he hesitated, because they’d come in one ranch vehicle. “Here.” He tossed him the keys. “We’ll get Darby to take us back to the ranch.”

  “Okay. Thanks!” He ran for the truck.

  “Don’t speed!” Cane called after him. “One tragedy a day is enough!”

  “I’ll keep it under a hundred!” Tank called back.

  Cane groaned. He’d been in a terrible wreck before he and Bolinda had been married. He took speed very seriously.

  “I feel bad that this happened on my watch,” Carson said. “I was careless. I won’t be again.”

  “We all slip from time to time,” Mallory assured him.

  Two vehicles approached the cabin as Tank drove rapidly away with a wave. It was Sheriff Banks and his investigator.

  They greeted the men, asked questions of Clara and started investigating Merissa’s room. It soon became apparent that her window was unlocked and someone had come through it quite recently. There was moisture from melted snow on the sill, and a partial footprint outside the window, among the leaves. A mold was taken of the print.

  When the investigator had collected what evidence he could find, and another officer had been sent to the hospital to retrieve the bottle of capsules and enter them into the chain of evidence, Carson and the investigator started backtracking the faint trail through the woods.

  Mallory and Cane returned to the ranch to update the wives on what was happening.

  * * *

  AT THE HOSPITAL, Tank sat beside Merissa in the intensive care unit, holding her hand.

  “Scared me to death, baby,” he said softly.

  She managed a wan smile. “I feel awful.”

  “You’re going to be all right,” he said firmly. “Nobody’s coming near you, or touching you again, no matter what I have to do to keep you safe.”

  “So sick,” she groaned.

  “I’m sure they’re giving you something to make that better.”

  “Yes. They said so. How’s Mama?” she asked suddenly. “She was so scared!”

  “She’s fine,” he replied. “She came in with us to talk to the doctor.”

  “Do you know what happened to me?” she asked.

  He turned her hand over and traced the palm. “Someone doctored the capsules you were given for migraine headaches,” he said grimly. “We don’t know how yet, but we’re pretty sure who did it.”

  She drew in a shaky breath and fought down the nausea. “Wow. I only took one capsule,” she whispered. “I remember Mama asked me when the ambulance came. I went out like a light pretty soon after that.”

  His hand tightened on hers. “Thank God you didn’t take more.”

  “What did he put in it?”

  “Malathion,” he muttered. “It’s dangerous. Very dangerous. We have to use precautions when we put it out on the ranch. Once we had a guy covered with it. We had to have him decontaminated and we had to cal
l the EMTs. That was an accident. What happened to you wasn’t. The sheriff’s investigator will probably want to talk to you, too.”

  “I’ll tell him anything I can.” She looked up at Tank. “I remember that the blinds in my room were sort of crooked. I didn’t think anything about it... I just straightened them before I lay down. My head was throbbing. Oh, and the pills weren’t in my drawer. Why didn’t I say something? I never leave them sitting out...and there was an odd odor to them, but I thought it was the headache making me smell things.”

  “Your head was hurting.” He smiled gently. “You gave us a real scare.”

  She smiled. “Sorry.”

  His expression became grim. “We have to get this guy, before he does something worse.”

  “I totally agree. Unfortunately I won’t be able to help you run him down and hog-tie him,” she teased. “The way my doctor talks, I’m going to be here for several days.”

  “You’ll be safe here.”

  “Yes.” She sighed. “But tomorrow’s Christmas Eve,” she moaned. “Mama will be all alone.”

  “Don’t worry about Clara,” he added before she could speak. “We’ve got people watching her.”

  “Okay.”

  “Carson offered to let me punch him,” he then told her. “He felt bad that he was out of sight and sound when it happened.”

  “He was trying to keep us safe,” she said. “Don’t be mad at him.”

  He frowned. “Don’t tell me he’s working that magic on you, too?”

  “Excuse me?”

  He averted his eyes. He hadn’t thought of Carson as a rival. Now, remembering the man’s way with women, he was stunned. Merissa had been almost his until Carson came back with him. Now, she was backing away. Because of Carson?

  He glanced at her. “You and Carson, you’ve been talking, haven’t you?”

  She nodded. “He isn’t what he seems,” she said softly. She smiled. “He’s had a very hard life.”

  “He told you about it?”

  “Yes. He isn’t the sort of man who tells anybody private things, I think. But he told me a lot. I felt really bad for him.”