The Lockwood Legacy - Books 1-6: Plus Bonus Short Stories

by Juliette Harper

  They exchanged a few pleasantries and said their good-byes. Jenny found Kate working on the windmill. "Problem?" she said, by way of greeting.

  Kate looked up, her face wet with perspiration. "Yeah, the brake won't hold."

  "Can't you pay someone to do that?" Jenny asked.

  Kate stared at her like she'd grown a second head, "Why?"

  "Because you're a woman with a lot of money now and you shouldn't be out here sweating like a wetback," Jenny said.

  "Why, Jennifer Lockwood, how politically incorrect of you," Kate said, taking out a bandanna and mopping her face. "What's up?"

  "Can we at least get out of the sun?" Jenny asked.

  "Dear God, fine," Kate said. "Come on. Let's walk back to the house. It's almost time for lunch anyway. This can wait another hour."

  As they walked, Jenny related her conversation with Gretchen Larsen. "What in the world would John Fisk's gambling habit have to do with Daddy?" Kate asked.

  "Maybe he was trying to get Daddy to loan him money," Jenny said.

  "Well that clearly didn't work."

  "Are you going to tell your Ranger friend about all this?" Jenny asked.

  "Why?" Kate said, as she opened the yard gate. "He'd just tell me it's all 'interesting,' but nothing points to anyone pulling the trigger but Daddy."

  "So what are you going to do?"

  "I'm going to ask John Fisk out here to supper and we're going to have a little talk."

  "I'd love to come to supper, Katie," John said, twirling a gold pen through his fingers. "Tonight isn't too soon at all. May I bring something? Wine, perhaps?"

  On the other end of the line, Kate said, "No, no. Just yourself. Is 6 o'clock okay?"

  "Six is perfect. I'm looking forward to it."

  They said their good-byes and Fisk replaced the receiver in the cradle. Thank God. Finally he was making some traction with that impossible woman. He thought a spinster like Kate Lockwood would be an easier mark. Now, if he could get her in bed, he'd make sure the last thing she was thinking about was her dear departed Daddy. Lonely women will do just about anything for you. He should know. He’d used more than one to his advantage.

  Fisk leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. He'd told those fools he'd handle the whole thing. Langston threw a little kink into the plan, but nothing that couldn't be handled. He'd get Kate Lockwood to the altar in a month, and then he'd be in a position to do everything he needed to do. She wouldn't be so unpleasant to deal with. He'd slept with uglier women as circumstances required. At least she was moderately intelligent. Enough not to be thoroughly boring.

  He reached into his pocket and took out a pre-paid flip phone, punched in a number and waited. "Sir?" he said.

  "Yes," a voice answered.

  "I'm having dinner with Kate Lockwood tonight at the ranch. I believe things are back on track."

  "And why do you think that?"

  "They're not that bright, sir," Fisk said. "They've asked their little questions and now they're playing with Daddy's money, building houses for themselves, buying things. As I told you, this was a small setback."

  "Yes," the man said. "I agree. A small setback. Nothing that can't be overcome."

  Fisk grinned. He was having a very good day. "May I call you later tonight with a report, sir?"

  "By all means."

  "Thank you, sir."

  When the line went dead, the man stared at the report lying on his desk and then looked up at his assistant. "Is this Gretchen Larsen an issue for us?"

  "No sir. We are in complete control of any information she might be after."

  "Good. Then let's get this business wrapped up."

  John Fisk's smile faltered slightly when he stepped into the ranch house to find Jenny and Mandy seated in the living room, but he recovered quickly. "Well, this is great!" he said. "I get all three of the lovely Lockwood sisters? I hit the jackpot."

  "You like jackpots, don't you, John," Jenny said drily.

  Not sure how to respond, Fisk said, "Doesn't every man?"

  "Sit down, John," Kate said, trying to make it sound like an invitation. "Do you mind if we talk a little business before we eat?"

  "Should I start the clock? I bill by the hour," Fisk asked, attempting a joke, but obviously uncomfortable.

  "We think you were in the barn with our father the day he killed himself," Jenny said without preamble.

  "You think what?" Fisk said, sounding shocked. "Why in the world would you think that?"

  “Are you sure you didn’t know our fathers were friends when they were young?" Mandy asked.

  Fisk's eyes scanned back and forth as if he was searching for the most neutral answer. “In retrospect, Daddy may have alluded to that."

  "Did he 'allude' to the fact our father took away his fiancé and married her?" Jenny asked.

  "I don't know what you mean," John said stiffly.

  Mandy silently put a yellowed clipping in front of Fisk, who scanned it quickly. "That must have been quite difficult for them all," he said, his voice tight.

  "And did you know our father had an affair with your mother?" Mandy asked.

  "You shut your goddamned mouth about my mother," Fisk said, his face going red.

  Mandy flinched slightly, but she didn't back down. "Is that a yes?" she asked.

  Fisk balled his fists in response and started up out of his chair. The sound of a pistol being cocked stopped him. He turned to find Kate calmly holding him at gun point. "Sit down, John," she said quietly. "You don't know much about Texas women if you think we bring lollipops to knife fights."

  He plopped down in his chair heavily, still red in the face, and Kate eased the hammer back down, laying the gun across her lap. "Now, would you please answer Mandy's question? Did you know our father and your mother had an affair?"

  "Yes."

  "And that our father ruined your dad's political hopes?"

  "Yes."

  "So you came out here and killed him over it?" Jenny demanded. "All these years later?"

  "No," Fisk said. "I did not kill your father. I was there, I will admit that. I came out here with some papers for Langston to sign. He said he was busy and I'd just have to follow him out to the barn. I had no idea what he was going to do. He killed himself right in front of me. It was horrible."

  "So you thought the right thing to do was get yourself out of the barn without a trace and not say a word?" Kate asked.

  "I was in a state of shock," Fisk said dismissively. "I panicked. He was dead. Calling the authorities wouldn't have accomplished anything."

  "Bullshit," Kate said. "What did you say to our father that made him kill himself? Were you trying to get money out of him to pay your gambling debts?"

  Fisk let out a short, harsh laugh. "Money was the last thing I wanted from Langston Lockwood."

  "Then what did you want?" Jenny asked. "What happened that day?"

  Fisk turned to look at her coldly, "A black-hearted evil son of a bitch put a bullet in his own brain."

  "Were you protecting your father?" Kate persisted. "Was Daddy threatening to tell the truth about the night Alice Browning died?"

  "No, Langston had made no such threats."

  "Then what in the hell did you want from our father that day?" Jenny demanded. "What did you . . .”

  Mandy interrupted her. "What's that red dot?" she asked, pointing at Fisk.

  Before anyone could answer her, the sound of shattering glass filled the room. John Fisk's body jerked in his chair and a pool of red began to spread across his perfect white shirt. Blood bubbled up at his lips and his head slumped forward.

  "Get down," Kate ordered.

  Jenny pulled Mandy to the floor, while Kate crawled across the room and through glass shards to slam the shutter closed, a move she repeated with each of the windows across the front of the house, plunging the room into semi-darkness.

  "Jenny? Mandy?" she asked, panting. "Are you okay?"

  "We're fine," Jenny answer
ed. "That was a laser sight, wasn't it?"

  "Yes, from a silenced rifle," Kate said, punching numbers into her cell phone. "Hello, Dorothy? This is Katie Lockwood. There's been a shooting at the ranch. I don't know if the gunman is still here or not. That's right. Tell them to get here fast."

  "What do we do now?" Jenny asked.

  "We wait," Kate said, crossing to the gun cabinet and taking out a 30-30, which she tossed to Jenny who caught it in mid-air. Jenny levered the action open to check the chamber, satisfying herself the gun was loaded.

  Kate took out a second rifle for herself. "Mandy?" she asked.

  Her sister shook her head, but said nothing.

  "Baby Sister, are you alright?"

  Mandy nodded.

  "I need to hear you say it," Kate said. "I need you to keep it together until the law gets here."

  "I'm okay, Katie," Mandy said, her voice quivering slightly.

  "That's my girl," Katie said. "You just keep breathing."

  "Do we stay in here?" Jenny asked.

  "There's only one way into this room," Kate said. "It's as good a place as any."

  They passed several minutes in silence, until Jenny said, "We'll never find out what happened in that barn now, will we?”

  "Never say never," Kate said, her face set at hard angles in the half light. "I have a feeling this thing is far from over."

  23

  No one tried to stop Joe Mason as he threaded his way through the sheriff's cars and DPS cruisers parked in front of the ranch house, but Josh Baxter was halted dead in his tracks at the perimeter by a burly trooper.

  "Hey!" Josh yelled. "Mason! A little help here?"

  Joe glanced over his shoulder and caught the trooper's eye. "He's with me. Works for the city."

  Joe waited while Josh caught up with him. "Works for the city doing what?" he asked, as they stepped up on the porch.

  "Apparently helping me keep Lockwood women out of trouble," Joe said.

  Just then Mandy burst out of the front door and threw her arms around him. He caught her in a tight embrace, "Are you okay?" he whispered against her ear.

  "Yes . . . no." Her voice caught and she buried her face in his shoulder. "I don't know."

  Jenny stepped out on the porch behind her sister. Relief flooded her face when she saw Josh. She didn't fling herself into his arms, but she didn't resist when he pulled her into an embrace.

  "You're trembling," he said.

  "Now that it's over I can," she said. "I didn't have time when it was going on."

  He held her closer and placed a soft kiss on her temple, "Now how did I know you'd have nerves of steel under fire?"

  Jenny drew back slightly, but didn't protest when Josh kept an arm protectively around her waist. As Kate joined them, Jenny said, "She's the one who had nerves of steel."

  "You okay, Kate?" Josh asked, holding out his right hand.

  Kate took it and held on past the point of a handshake. "Yes," she said. "I'm okay. Thank you both for coming." With her free hand she rubbed comforting circles on Mandy's back. "Joe Bob, why don't you take Baby Sister down to her place?"

  "It's just Joe," Mandy mumbled, her face still buried in Joe's shoulder.

  In spite of themselves, they all laughed. "Okay, Joe, take her home, will you, and stay with her?" Kate repeated.

  "You couldn't blast me away from this woman with dynamite right now," Joe said.

  Mandy turned in his arms. "What about the two of you?" she asked.

  "I'll stay," Josh said, flashing her his trademark grin. "Don't you worry, little sugar. You go on with ole Just Joe."

  They watched as Joe led Mandy down the walk and through the jumble of cars to his truck. When he started the engine and drove away, Josh said, "Show me."

  The three of them walked into the house and stopped at the living room door, watching silently as investigators took photographs and gathered evidence. Josh's eyes tracked to the window. "Let's go out on the porch."

  The window through which the shot had passed was blocked off with crime scene tape. "Where you reckon he sat?" Josh asked.

  "Had to be over yonder on that ridge," Kate said, pointing across the pasture to a rocky escarpment of limestone.

  "That has to be at least a mile," Josh said.

  "A mile and a quarter," Kate corrected him.

  "This was a professional hit," Josh said. "You do realize that?"

  "We do," Kate said. "And whoever ordered it didn't want us, just John Fisk. In the time it took us to react to the first shot, a sniper that good could have taken out at least two more targets. He didn't."

  "Do you have any idea why someone wanted John Fisk dead?" Josh asked.

  Jenny interrupted. "Let's walk over to my place and talk there," she said.

  Once they were settled on her front deck, Jenny and Kate told Josh the whole story. "Nobody hired a professional hit man to come out here and make a shot like that just because Fisk was a lousy gambler," Josh said. "There's more to it than that."

  "I think so, too," Jenny said. "But we may never know what."

  "Does it matter?" Kate asked tiredly, her eyes on the law officers at the ranch house.

  "What do you mean does it matter?" Jenny asked incredulously. "A man was just gunned down while he was sitting four feet from you and you ask if it matters?"

  "We know Daddy wasn't murdered," she said. "For whatever reason he pulled the trigger himself. Whoever killed John Fisk, I'm pretty sure the bastard had it coming. What else is there to know?"

  "Maybe the sheriff can answer that question," Josh said, pointing to Lester Harper, who was making his way toward them with an evidence bag in his hand.

  When he reached them, Harper said, "I'm sorry to bother you all again, but can you tell me if you recognize this map?" He held out the plastic bag. It held a blood-splattered and creased piece of paper.

  Kate took the bag from him, examined the map, and nodded. "Sure, that's the Rocking L," she said.

  "Is there anything special about the circled area?" Harper asked.

  Before she could answer, Josh said, "That's Baxter's Draw."

  "Where did you get this, Lester?" Jenny asked.

  "It was in the breast pocket of John Fisk's suit coat," Harper said. "Did he have any reason to be interested in Baxter's Draw?"

  "None I'm aware of," Kate said. "There's nothing up there but scrub brush and rocks."

  "Well, if you think of anything, give me a holler. We're gonna be several hours down at the house," he said. "Reckon you all best stay up here."

  As they stared after him, Kate said, "Now, what the hell is that all about?"

  "Do you think John Fisk's death matters now?" Jenny asked.

  Kate rubbed her eyes. "I do, but we're sure as hell not going to figure it out tonight. Haven't you had enough for one day, Jenny?"

  "I'm sorry," Jenny said, reaching for her sister's hand in the growing darkness. "You know me once my mind gets going."

  "Tell you what," Josh said. "How about I start a fire in the pit here? Might be kinda . . . comforting."

  "That would be nice," Jenny said. She let go of Kate's hand and stood up, letting her fingers trail across the back of Josh's neck as she passed him. "I'm cold, and we need to eat. Let me go fix us something."

  By the time she came back with a plate of cheese, cold cuts, and fruit, a warming blaze crackled in the fire pit. Kate smiled when Jenny hesitated for just a second and then sat down by Josh, leaning into his body as his arm came around her.

  "Seems like you two buried the hatchet," she said. "And not in each other's heads."

  Jenny snorted, "Not yet anyway," but she didn't move. "Do you think we should check on Mandy?"

  "Oh, I imagine Just Joe has the situation well in hand," Kate said. "He came through that crowd of law dogs like a bulldozer to get to her."

  Epilogue

  The morning air sat softly on the land as the sun rose over the Rocking L. At the old house, Mandy slept spooned against Joe, safe in the
same embrace that drove away her bad dreams in the night. When she stirred, Joe kissed her hair and murmured, "Go back to sleep, baby."

  At the studio, Josh Baxter lay sprawled on the sofa, his hat pulled down over his eyes, his boots sitting silent watch on the floor. As Jenny drank coffee and sketched his sleeping form, she noticed the hole in his left sock. Lord, she thought to herself, this one is going to take some maintenance.

  Kate sat at her father's desk in the study at the main house, idly poking through the dusty cubbyholes in the antique rolltop. When one roll of receipts, bound in a rubber band resisted, she pulled harder. Without warning, a panel at the back center of the desk popped open.

  "Well, I'll be damned," she said. "You're just full of secrets, aren't you, Daddy?" She angled the desk light down to get a better look, and drew out a single sheet of paper -- a letter dated the day of his death.

  Girls,

  I've been an old bastard to you all your lives, and whether you believe me or not, I'm sorry. You don't know the demons I've let chase me all these years, or how many nights I've sat in this room and wished I could be a better father to you.

  If you haven't found it already, look in my best hatbox. That's where I always keep the letters and the book that will explain everything. If you've found it already, maybe you can spare me a shred of forgiveness. I don't have a hell of a lot for myself.

  You may not understand it, but I have to see this thing through. But don't you do what I've done. Don't you live your lives consumed by bitterness trying to fix something that's long dead and gone.

  The doc says I've got that thing that killed Lou Gehrig. ALS. I'm not gonna die that way, but I have some things to tend to first, starting with Baxter's Draw . . .

  The letter ended there. Frowning, Kate turned it over. There was nothing on the other side. Apparently Langston had been interrupted writing the letter and put it in the compartment for safekeeping.

  So that was why her father had been willing to kill himself that day. In his own eyes, he was dead already. If she knew Langston, and she was pretty sure she did, he took himself out to keep John Fisk from getting something he wanted -- or needed -- badly -- and that something had to do with Baxter's Draw.