Reaction Shot (Caught Dead in Wyoming, Book 9)

by Patricia McLinn

  “You covered it.”

  “What about what Kesler wanted to talk about?” Diana asked.

  “Grazing association business. Not related.”

  Jennifer asked, “Does Shelton really consider Tom a suspect?”

  “No,” he said.

  “Yes,” I said. “He has to. Because of exactly what he said about York dying so close after the two of them having words. I’d say it was good news that Tom’s not his prime suspect, except Shelton making Hiram the number one suspect is not one of his shining hours.”

  Could I be that wrong about Hiram? Could he have committed this murder?

  Yes, the answer came. He could have.

  But did I really think he had?

  That remained undecided.

  “What did you get from Hiram?” Mike asked.

  “Wait, wait,” Jennifer said. “You’re jumping ahead. Way ahead. After you left Lukasik Ranch, what did you do, Elizabeth?”

  “Lunch with Needham and Thelma. The tiny bit to add about Furman York is that Needham didn’t like him and thought he was guilty of killing Leah Pedroke.”

  “Well, that’s no surprise,” Jennifer said.

  “No. He did have one surprise.” I glanced toward Tom, then told them Needham’s account of York getting Clyde to write a check and his close call.

  “Wow. York tried to con him and then rustled from him? That’s got to be motive,” Jennifer said.

  “I have an idea that guy was arrested quite a while ago,” Tom said. “So that check business would be, too. Check the date of arrest, Jennifer.”

  Had he already known about the check? He didn’t say.

  He was right about the arrest, though. Jennifer found it seven months ago.

  Seven months to let go of anger? Or to have it build up?

  I told them, “Needham also said something interesting about Hiram — that he could see him shooting in anger or a scuffle, but couldn’t see him denying it after.”

  “Needham shoots and scores,” Mike said. “Hiram’s more likely to proclaim he did it with good reason and everyone should agree with him.”

  “I know that’s been his approach on less serious charges. Murder might make even Hiram think twice,” Diana said.

  I agreed. With Jennifer’s expression indicating she stood beside Mike, I decided to detour that divide — and they said I’d never learn diplomacy.

  “After lunch with Needham and Thelma, I picked up Diana at the dentist’s office.”

  “And saw Odessa Vincennes and her daughter, Asheleigh — with an ‘e’ in the middle. Right.” Jennifer tried to hurry us along. “Then, after that—”

  “Hold up, you didn’t tell me about talking to Odessa Vincennes,” Mike said. “Tom, did they tell you?”

  “Bare bones.”

  “There’s not much beyond the bones,” I warned.

  Despite Jennifer’s obvious impatience, I described that encounter, with Diana sharing her observations.

  “Can you believe Odessa’s daughter is dating Lukasik’s son?”

  The rest of them looked at me blankly.

  “I mean, the daughter of the woman I just happened to be interviewing at the moment Mike comes in and says a ranch foreman has been killed is the mother of the woman the son of the ranch owner is dating. What are the chances? I know the dating pool isn’t very big—”

  “Try a puddle. What are the chances around here of something like that happening? Not bad, not bad at all.”

  I’d had similar thoughts earlier. Diana’s observations now underlined and boldfaced them.

  Jennifer slid into the gap. “I confirmed the daughter does have a silver car.” She grimaced. Not, I suspected at the concept of silver cars. Grudgingly, she added, “Got her middle initial from it — T — so that’ll help narrow searches. I want to hear the other stuff you all did, but as long as we’re talking about her, I might as well update you where we are with Odessa Vincennes.”

  “Great.” I upped my enthusiasm level to offset Jennifer’s glumness.

  “Not great. In fact, not much at all. She moved here with her daughter when Asheleigh with an ‘e’ in the middle got the teaching job here mid-school year. The two of them rented one of the apartments they put into that big old house by the B&B. She started working for the senior assistance group soon after. It’s a paid position, not volunteer. But she’s paid even worse than the station pays me, so it might as well be volunteer. If I got into the group’s system I could get her references, former address—”

  “Jennifer.”

  “All right, all right. I said if. Following the obvious, straight line on Odessa, we’re not picking up anything before here in Wyoming. We’ll fan out next, seeing where we can pick up her thread.

  “In the meantime, we started tracking the daughter. Baby steps. Just found out she graduated from Penn State with a major in elementary and early childhood education.”

  “How’d you find that?”

  “Came across a piece in a newspaper from a little town in Pennsylvania. That ‘e’ in the middle of her first name helps, though we check other spellings, too. She was doing a program at their local school as part of a special class on teaching. Guess it was a big deal in their town. It said she was raised in Maryland. That’s a good lead. I’m looking for her there and I’ve started searching for the mother in Maryland. No success so far. But it’s early. Also throwing in Pennsylvania for Odessa.”

  “Why?” Mike asked.

  “Figured if the mom moved out to Wyoming with her—”

  “Good figuring, but please don’t mention a mother moving here with her daughter to my parents when they come back through town.”

  “—maybe she moved to Pennsylvania while the daughter was in college.”

  Diana responded to my interjected plea, which Jennifer hadn’t talked over while also not taking it seriously. “Don’t worry. They won’t move here, because they’d have to leave your siblings in Illinois.”

  “True, but they’re married and settled. That leaves only my brother, Steve, who moves about every four months, so they’d spend most of their time packing and unpacking, or me.”

  Diana shook her head. “They have grandchildren in Illinois. You can’t compete.”

  “Still, don’t give them ideas.” I turned back to Jennifer. “You’ve made progress. Don’t give up.”

  “Who said anything about giving up?” She dismissed the possibility, just this side of affronted. “There are lots and lots more things to try. Takes time to get through them all. Same with Furman York. So, what happened in O’Hara Hill?”

  “Anything on York?” Tom asked.

  Jennifer half-swallowed what seemed destined to be a martyred sigh. Clearly, it really bothered her not being along on today’s O’Hara Hill trip and wanted to hear what she’d missed.

  If she hadn’t been so good at digging up background, she wouldn’t have as much to share and we’d get to our report sooner.

  This didn’t seem the time to console her by pointing that out.

  “We found bits and pieces of Furman York—”

  “That’s grim,” Mike said.

  “—before he came to Wyoming.” Jennifer ignored him. “Born in Texas. Youngest of seven kids. In trouble with the police as a kid.”

  I opened my mouth to ask how she’d seen juvenile records, then thought better of it.

  “Starts showing up in regular police reports, mostly bar fights. Pops up in Alaska. Followed by records in Montana, North Dakota, New Mexico — all oil jobs — but with gaps, so he could have been other places, too.” She looked up. “A couple assaults on women.”

  “Sexual assaults?” I asked, thinking of Mrs. Parens’ account yesterday as well as Ernie and Dorrie today.

  “Assault and battery. Only hit the surface so far. He moved around a lot. Not just place to place, also company to company. Some places don’t match up with a company and vice versa, so we need to fill in those dates on his timeline. I’ll send you all we have so
far.”

  “Good work,” Diana said.

  “Thanks. Now, can we hear about you two talking to Ernie and Dorrie?”

  Diana and I related what they said in the order they’d said it, then came back to Ernie’s answer to my off-the-cuff question about what kind of card-player Furman York had been.

  “Maybe it fits,” Mike said, “if he’d had a similar interaction with Leah Pedroke. Say, he thought she’d done him wrong or dismissed him somehow or led him on. Could that have triggered his killing her?”

  “That’s an interesting idea,” Diana said. “It would fit with what they said about him and what Dorrie said about Leah, how she’d give guys a look that would make them straighten up if they’d had a good momma.”

  “Doesn’t sound like Furman York was one who had a good momma, which might mean that look had an entirely different effect,” I said.

  “But does what happened thirty years ago help us with his murder now? York getting killed, not his killing Leah Pedroke, is the one Tom—” Jennifer broke off, glanced toward Tom, frowned, then looked at her lap as she determinedly finished, “This is the one we’re dealing with now.

  “It gives us another piece of York’s background. And every piece advances us, even if it’s by telling us what’s not important.”

  She didn’t raise her head.

  “I was thinking,” Tom said slowly. Jennifer didn’t look at him, but the rest of us did, prepared for him to say something to put her at ease. “I was thinking about your Penny riddle, Elizabeth.”

  “You already told me the solution. That’s why I went to find Kesler at Lukasik Ranch.”

  “A different part of her riddle. You said Penny was talking about Hiram and a woman.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “Hiram? And a woman?” Mike repeated.

  “He did blush…” I said.

  “Hiram?”

  “You have a thought about it, Tom?” Diana asked.

  “Yep. Hiram and Yvette.”

  Not only did I know whom he meant, but it triggered a cascade.

  Elvis. Romance. Hiram Poppinger blushing. Yvette.

  They streamed through my brain like Penny’s mismatched pronouns, somehow making sense amid the jumble.

  That didn’t mean I accepted it without confirmation. “How do you know?”

  “Yvette? Yvette who?” Mike asked.

  “You know,” Jennifer told him, “the one who thinks she forced Elvis to fake his death because she loved him too much, Elizabeth told us about her weeks and weeks ago.”

  “Oh. Right. You met her at a wedding you went to with Leona.”

  “Yes,” I confirmed. “But, Tom … why? Why would you think Hiram and Yvette…?”

  “Because of what Hiram said about doing a favor for Clyde by talking to York. And Clyde doing a favor for him—”

  “By talking to Yvette,” Diana finished off. “Makes sense, since they’re family.”

  “Who’s family?”

  “Clyde and Yvette.” Diana raised a finger, drawing lines in the air. “Clyde’s mother was a cousin of Yvette’s father. That makes Clyde and Yvette second cousins. But closer than that, because Yvette’s father was raised by Clyde’s mother’s family after his parents died.”

  “I thought Clyde was related to Dirk Seger,” I said. Dirk and his wife, Krista, owned Sherman’s solitary bed and breakfast. She also happened to be related to the owner of KWMT.

  “He is,” Tom said. “By marriage, anyway. Clyde’s wife is Dirk’s older sister. Half-sister.”

  My head hurt. “Good heavens, this county’s genealogy is a nest of snakes.”

  Mike reached for three more cookies. “Well, the good news is Yvette getting together with Hiram should ease the heat on Elvis. He can finally quit pretending he’s dead and come out of hiding and not have to worry about Yvette.”

  Ignoring that happy aspect and somewhat grudgingly, I said, “I suppose it might fit with what Clyde said and with Hiram’s reaction.”

  “Right, we’re finally at you two talking to Hiram.” Jennifer accompanied her brisk statement by brushing cookie crumbs from her fingers in apparent preparation for typing.

  “No, we’re not. We still have Clyde,” Mike objected. “Let’s hear that first.”

  “He didn’t say a word about Hiram.” I looked directly at Tom. “With that and the check he wrote, we need to look at him more closely.”

  “Let’s hear what he did say,” Mike said.

  I gave the broad outline, Tom and Diana gave the technical rustling details.

  Mike whistled. “Can’t get away from York rustling from grazing association members as a possible motive.”

  “Couldn’t that be a defense?” Jennifer asked. “Defending your ranch, like some states have for defending your home.”

  “Even if it were, it wouldn’t cover going to the grazing association, confronting York, and shooting him,” I said. “Besides, what we have might be enough evidence for a suspect to believe York was rustling, but it’s not enough evidence to know. I want to know if he was or not. And if he was, to be able to prove it.”

  “So do I.” Tom’s quiet voice reminded me we weren’t trying to build a defense — for him or anyone else — but were looking for a killer. Partially for justice, partially to exonerate him. Of course if we consulted Tamantha there’d be no partially involved. “Then I’d like to shove the proof down Lukasik’s throat.”

  That last statement’s slide from the height of disinterested pursuit of truth into the muddy reality of disliking someone, eased the mood.

  More cookies and coffee refills also helped.

  “Now Hiram,” instructed taskmaster Jennifer.

  I obliged, with Tom’s contribution limited to nods, until I reached the end.

  “Something I want to know,” he said to me, “is why you asked Hiram if the marks were right up to the body?”

  “First, because the best reason I could think of—” I mentally apologized to Dex for skipping his contribution to this point, but the less I brought him up — even to this group — the better. “—that explained the killer brushing out the marks was a scuffle. Going right up to the body’s consistent with that.

  “And the other reason I asked about the marks being right up to the body was to test my thoughts about the gun. Hiram says he didn’t touch the body, says he didn’t see a gun, says the marks went right up to the body. That all fits with the Sampson-Alvaro interplay, with them already having the murder weapon because it was under the body, and with it most likely being York’s gun. Because, again, it if had been somebody else’s gun, Shelton and his buddies would be going after that somebody else.”

  Mike said, “How would the gun get under York? He fell on his own gun? Suicide? That’s far-fetched with someone sweeping around his body. Accident? Someone wanted to wipe out they’d been there?”

  “Possibly. Or someone swept at the dirt because he or she killed York and put the gun under his body.”

  “That’s weird,” Jennifer said. “Why would anyone do that?”

  “I don’t know why—” Yet, I hoped. “Hiram knows more. But he’s not sharing. We need to talk to him again.”

  Tom closed his eyes.

  “Couldn’t it have happened another way?” Diana asked. “Say York didn’t die right off, but staggered. The killer’s dropped the gun and—”

  “Why would the killer have dropped the gun?”

  “Horror at killing York.” Diana ignored Jennifer’s snort and kept going. “The killer’s dropped the gun, York staggers toward the killer, and he or she pushes York away, causing him to fall. On top of the gun.”

  “Like an accident? Like York just happened to fall on it. So the gun being under York doesn’t mean anything? Well, that doesn’t get us anywhere,” Jennifer complained. “We’re going backward.”

  I argued, “It might keep us from going too far down a wrong path. We need to keep possibilities open. Jennifer, will you look particularly at where Furman Y
ork was and what he was doing between being acquitted and when he returned to Cottonwood County to work on Lukasik’s ranch.”

  “Okay.”

  “Why?” Mike asked.

  “Murder’s usually about the victim. Jennifer’s picked up enough from his childhood and before he came to O’Hara Hill to see a pattern. How he acted here since he returned also fits. Between the not guilty verdict and returning here to work on the ranch is the gap in Furman York’s life we don’t know anything about yet.”

  Jennifer said, “We’ll keep filling in details for that earlier part, but make this gap a priority. When was the trial exactly?”

  “Mrs. Parens will know. And check real estate records for the sale of the ranch.”

  “Got it. What about York’s friends? Aren’t most people killed by someone they know?” she asked.

  Mike raised a hand. “I called Jack Delahunt, and he says he doesn’t know of anybody he’d call York’s friend.”

  “The guy’s got to have some associates,” I protested. “Besides, could he have pulled off the rustling on his own?”

  “It’d be a lot easier with help,” Mike said. “Jack did say there were rumbles about York being associated with a couple guys from Big Horn County who don’t have the best reputation.” Big Horn was the next county east of Cottonwood.

  Tom spoke up. “That fits with what Badger told me.”

  “For Pete’s sake, when were you going to share that you got information from him?” I demanded.

  “When the topic came up or nobody else had anything to say, whichever came first.”

  “I’m half tempted to report you to Tamantha. She wouldn’t stand for such dilatoriness.”

  “Dila-what?” Jennifer asked.

  “Procrastination,” Mike said.

  Peacemaker Diana kept to the point. “Tell us now, Tom.”

  “Badger says Furman York was known to drink with some of the Lukasik Ranch hands at the Kicking Cowboy, but not often. The hands came in regular. It was York who didn’t come in often. The past few years even less.”

  “Darn. Not surprising, I suppose. But I hoped if we found his drinking spot—”

  “Hold up there. Don’t close the gate yet. Turns out Badger has a buddy who works at a place across the county line — the eastern county line.”