Tarnished Remains: Shandra Higheagle Mystery #2

by Paty Jager

  On the other hand, Shandra had lots of questions. The fancy boot meant he had to be someone of either affluence or high in cowboy circles whenever he, or she, though the boot was a large man’s size, met their demise. Why was he riding on the mountain? Was he a hired hand for the previous owners who disappeared one day? If he was a hired hand, Lil should recognize the boots. She’d been on this ranch from the time her grandparents owned it until now. Though two of the owners since her grandparents sold the property had booted her off and told her not to set foot on the property, she’d just kept coming back like a stray cat. When Shandra bought the ranch and walked into the barn her first day of ownership, she hadn’t been surprised to see the woman had set up residence in the tack room—bed, hot plate, and all—and was preparing stalls for Shandra’s horses.

  Not only had Shandra researched the land, she’d researched the previous owners and knew the history and Lil’s connection. Believing the woman used the ranch as a shrine for her late parents and grandparents, and finding she was excellent with animals and a hard worker, she’d hired Lil. Knowing their boundaries with each other, they got along just fine. Shandra didn’t pry into what Lil did when she wasn’t tending the animals or helping in the studio, and Lil followed directions and helped with whatever Shandra asked.

  Now, thinking about how this man could be connected to the ranch, she stared at Lil’s back. Why had the woman taken off so abruptly at the sight of the burial? Had she recognized the boot and needed time to think about what she’d heard about a person’s disappearance?

  Scenarios and questions bombarded her mind.

  When the path widened, Ryan rode up alongside of her. “Do you mind if I stay at your ranch for the night?”

  His question was a vague muttering to the thoughts flying around in her head. She peered into his face. “What?”

  The eager shine in his eyes dulled, and he sat straighter in his saddle. “Nothing. I just thought staying at the ranch rather than running all the way back to the station, to turn around and be here again at first light made sense.”

  She studied him as her mind moved from her thoughts to the present. “It does make sense. I wasn’t questioning your motives. My mind was questioning who that person could be.”

  Relief eased the lines on his face. “That is if you have a guest bed.”

  Her mind quickly switched gears. “I’d love to have you as a house guest.” They could barbeque and sit on the back patio and watch the wildlife while having a stimulating conversation. There was still a lot about Ryan he kept hidden. The couple of days he’d visited last month he’d learned more about her than she had about him.

  “Why do you think Crazy Lil took off at the sight of the boot and bones?” Ryan asked.

  Shandra smiled. “That’s exactly what I was wondering. If the person I found was connected to the ranch in any way she would know them. She’s been a part of this mountain and property since she was born. Her grandparents owned the ranch when Lil’s parents died. She came here to live with them, and after the ranch was sold, she refused to leave. I’ve always thought she didn’t want to leave because she had a deep connection to the property.”

  “Do you think Lil knows who you dug up?” Ryan’s blank law-officer gaze landed on Lil’s back.

  “She could.” Shandra watched Lil’s body move as one with her horse and wondered if the woman had more secrets than why she refused to leave this land.

  Ryan slid his gaze from Lil’s back to Shandra’s face. She was contemplating something. He’d heard rumors that Lil wasn’t quite right in the head, but when he’d suggested to Shandra staying at her remote ranch with an unstable person might not be safe, she’d shrugged him off, saying Lil was as sane as she was.

  When he’d met Shandra, she was a suspect in a murder, but he’d quickly ruled her out due to lack of evidence that she could have committed the crime. But Lil…the person had been dead a long time from the state of the decomposition. He shook his head. They didn’t even know if there had been a crime committed. It could have been a hunter who became lost and died. But how did he get covered in clay? Ryan shook his head. No sense jumping to conclusions when they didn’t have evidence to make a determination on the cause of death.

  He relaxed in the saddle and enjoyed the scenery—nature and the woman next to him.

  ~*~

  At the barn, Ryan helped Lil put the horses up while Shandra tended the clay she brought back.

  “You have any idea who that person on the mountain could be?” he asked in a casual manner.

  Lil’s motions stalled a fraction of a second, before she pulled the pack saddle off the horse Shandra had led down the mountain. “Can’t say. There’s been a lot of people get lost on that mountain. Could be a hunter, a hiker, a horseback rider.”

  “Ever heard of any ranch hands come up missing?” He continued unsaddling Shandra’s horse. He set the saddle on the rack and turned back to Lil.

  Her face appeared flushed, and her eyes glistened with tears. “No. I’ve never heard of ranch hands missing.” She spun on her heel and led the two horses she’d untacked out to the corral.

  Ryan gathered the lead ropes of the two he’d unsaddled and followed. Something was riling her up. He’d never witnessed the tough lady looking so shook up. If I were a betting man, I’d bet on Lil knowing a whole lot more than she’s telling.

  When the body is exhumed tomorrow and the state forensic lab has it, we’ll learn the truth about who it is and what happened to him.

  He released the horses into the corral and left the barn.

  The studio door was open.

  Ryan entered the area where Shandra made her fascinating vases that represented her heritage. He’d noted that while before her Nez Perce grandmother’s death she’d made beautiful pieces, the ones she’d created since with more inspired details toward her heritage, had become even more remarkable.

  She wasn’t in the studio, but an open door leading out the back of the building drew him.

  He stepped out into the waning light of dusk.

  Shandra had a trowel. With long strokes, she scooped clay from a bucket and spread it on four by four foot pieces of plywood.

  “Why are you doing that?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

  She looked up, pushed stray strands of her dark hair out of her face. “This is good clay but it needs to have the impurities taken out, so it will dry without cracking or breaking in the kiln.” She scooped out of the last bucket that was standing up and spread it on the last board. “When this is dry, I’ll break it up into powder and add water to make a slurry. After that has set for several weeks, I’ll stir it and run it through a sieve. Then I’ll leave it in the buckets until the water rises to the top and the clay is like mud.” She stood, collected the buckets, and walked over to the water spigot on the side of the building.

  “When the clay is like mud, I spread it on these boards until it stiffens, then I wedge it.”

  Ryan was in awe of the process it took for her to use the raw clay. “You cut it into wedges?”

  Shandra chuckled.

  The soft tone took his breath away. The more time he spent with the woman, the more he found himself attracted to her.

  “No, wedging is what they call the process of folding and kneading the clay to make it workable.” She placed the buckets upside down on a small rack against the back of the building and motioned for him to move into the studio.

  “You go to a lot of work just to get the clay for your pieces.” He couldn’t hide the admiration in his voice.

  She stopped and smiled. The sparkle in her eyes revealed he’d pleased her.

  “Yes. Most potters purchase clay ready for them to mold into their creations. But I like knowing the clay comes from my land and Mother Nature’s bosom. It gives each piece added life.”

  Her good humor vanished. A frown wrinkled her forehead. “I hope finding a body in my clay pocket doesn’t taint the clay.”

  “I would think
if the decaying body had tainted the clay, you would have noticed it by now.” Ryan wanted to put the sparkle back in her eyes.

  “The clay isn’t fouled. It would have shown by now. It’s the creativity. Knowing some poor soul was encased in the clay for who knows how long….” She shook her head. “I don’t want my pieces to evoke sadness.”

  Understanding she put her feelings into each vase, Ryan put an arm around her shoulders. “I’m sure once the investigation starts and you realize the person died by accident, you’ll be able to emote the same spirit into each piece as you have before.”

  “I hope so.” She leaned her head on his shoulder for a moment. She heaved a sigh and stepped from his one-armed embrace. “How are you at barbequing?”

  “Not too shabby.” He fell in step beside her as they left the studio. His feet were light as feathers as he walked beside Shandra. They’d crossed a small but intimate moment when he put his arm around her and she placed her head on his shoulder.

  He wasn’t sure when or what the next step would be, but he was willing to go slow. The last woman he’d given his whole heart was marrying his brother in September.

  Chapter Four

  Shandra fed Ryan breakfast and had the horses saddled by the time trucks and horse trailers arrived at the ranch. She was surprised to see Maxwell Treat, the son of the local mortician.

  “I would have thought the body would be brought to the funeral home,” Shandra said, watching Maxwell lead a tall, large-bodied horse out of a trailer.

  He smiled. “I’m not here from the funeral parlor. I’m part of the search and rescue group in this area, and I’ve helped dig up old bodies before.”

  “That’s some horse you have there.” Ryan said, slapping Maxwell on the shoulder.

  Shandra had to agree. “What breed is…” She peeked under the horse which was easy to do it was so tall. “…he.”

  It would take a good-sized horse to haul Maxwell, a large muscular man, up the mountain.

  “Zeus is part Clydesdale.” Maxwell moved to help three other people Shandra hadn’t met, as they loaded gear on their already saddled horses.

  Ryan walked over to the other truck and trailer. People in county uniforms were preparing their horses.

  Shandra glanced at the barn. She hadn’t seen Lil all morning. When she’d peeked into the tack room, the area looked deserted. As if the woman hadn’t slept in the bed or even made coffee this morning. Something was up. And it had all started with the discovery of the body yesterday.

  She spun on her heel and headed to the barn for one last attempt to find Lil.

  “We’ll be leaving in ten minutes,” Ryan called out.

  Shandra waved her hand, continued to the barn, and stepped inside.

  Silence.

  She didn’t even see Lewis, the cat that was Lil’s shadow ever since the animal had arrived at the ranch. Not to arouse Ryan’s suspicions, Shandra exited the back of the barn and strode into the back door of the studio. Lil also helped in the studio, cleaning up and loading the kiln. She wasn’t here either.

  “Her horse was in the corral, so she’s not riding.” Shandra had one last thought. Lil rarely set foot inside the house. Usually, only if she needed to make a phone call.

  She exited the studio out the back and entered the kitchen door.

  Lil was on the phone.

  “I know what you told me. But I have reason to believe he never left Huckleberry.” She shook her head. “No, I don’t need help. I’m not crazy. I’m numb!” She slammed the phone down and her shoulders shook.

  “Lil?” Shandra stepped into the kitchen.

  The woman jumped and spun around. Dark half-moons cradled her eyes. More lines etched her sixty-year-old face.

  “What’s wrong Lil?” Shandra moved closer. “You haven’t slept.”

  “I’m fine.” The woman started to walk by Shandra.

  She put out an arm. “You haven’t been right since you saw that boot. Do you know who that body is?”

  Lil shook Shandra’s hand off. “I don’t want to go to the site with you. I have things I need to do here today.”

  “That’s fine, but I bet if you talked to someone, you’d feel better.”

  “Shandra! We’re ready to head out!” Ryan called.

  “I have to go. I’ll be back tonight if you want to talk.”

  Shandra hurried out the front door and over to Apple.

  “Forget something?” Ryan asked, swinging up into the saddle on Duke’s back.

  “My lip balm.” She wouldn’t say anything to Ryan about Lil’s behavior until she’d had a chance to talk with the woman. Her gut said Lil knew something.

  Sitting atop Apple, Shandra headed up the side of the mountain with a string of nine people following behind. By the end of the day, she hoped they would have the body dug up and possibly a clue to his, or her, identity.

  ~*~

  Ryan was impressed with the skill and swiftness with which the team went to work. Shandra was allowed to help once she’d acknowledged she had uncovered what was showing so far and the expert said she knew what she was doing. The group knelt shoulder to shoulder slowly removing the clay and exposing more of the corpse.

  Because he didn’t have skills in excavating and was there to document the process, Ryan stood at the foot of the body, taking photos every time the group leaned back collectively to stretch their backs.

  “I have something solid.” Maxwell said. “And metal.”

  “That’s the right area for a belt buckle,” Alfred Harlow, a county deputy, said.

  Everyone watched as Maxwell slowly uncovered what did turn out to be a tarnished silver belt buckle. He cradled the buckle in his hands as he stood.

  “I’ve got stuff that will clean this right up.”

  “That’s evidence and should be bagged.” Ryan bent to pull an evidence bag out of his back pack.

  Maxwell’s long legs carried him away from the site. Not wanting to lose any evidence, Ryan followed Maxwell. “How long have you been a part of the posse? You should know not to tamper with evidence.” Ryan stopped beside Maxwell.

  “I started as a kid. They have a program that trains kids to help with searches. I got hooked but not enough to want to wear a badge every day.” Maxwell tapped his rubber-gloved finger on the badge hanging on Ryan’s belt.

  “There’s been days I wish I hadn’t strapped on the badge.” Ryan muttered, remembering the long weeks of rehab after being gunned down in a gang shoot out.

  “What?” Maxwell’s face and eyes left the buckle in his hands to stare at Ryan.

  “Nothing.” Just as curious to know the owner of the belt buckle and doubting it was a murder, he decided to let Maxwell have his moment of discovery. “How do you plan to clean that up?” Ryan changed the subject.

  “I always carry toothpaste with me, it works great for cleaning up tarnished silver.”

  Ryan glanced over at the crew. They were all working diligently to get this corpse off the mountain today. It didn’t matter the body had been here many years, the sooner it and the cause of death were identified they could close a case on a missing person.

  Maxwell scrubbed at a section of the buckle with toothpaste and a toothbrush. Little by little the shiny silver was revealed. “This looks like a rodeo buckle.”

  The raised image of a cowboy on a bucking horse was taking shape as Maxwell rubbed off the dull-brown tarnish.

  “Bareback Champion…Nineteen-seventy-four.” Maxwell held the buckle up and stared at Ryan. “I think I know who this is.”

  “Who and how?” Ryan had been to a rodeo or two, but he wasn’t up on any of the champions in the sport.

  “I happen to dabble in the history of Huckleberry Mountain.” Maxwell grinned and nodded.

  “What does that have to do with rodeo?” Ryan wasn’t too sure the man wasn’t yanking his chain.

  “Johnny Clark was ranked number one in the world in bareback riding in nineteen-seventy-four. Johnny Clark gave a couple of
newspaper interviews in the early eighties here in Huckleberry. He was becoming a sought-after rodeo announcer. When he wasn’t at a rodeo, he spent a considerable amount of time in Huckleberry. On this ranch.” Maxwell frowned. “Rumor was he and the girl he was dating had an argument, and he walked out of Huckleberry in nineteen-eighty-four and no one ever heard of him again.”

  “I’m thinking this was a lover’s spat gone wrong. But who would he have been dating—” Ryan knew exactly who he would have been dating thirty years ago. And who had made a hasty departure yesterday when she saw the boot.

  Chapter Five

  Shandra stood back as the law-enforcement team slid the skeletal remains onto a canvas tarp. She’d been stunned when Ryan told her Maxwell knew who the buckle belonged to and his assumed connection with the ranch. They wouldn’t know that for sure until they arrived back at the ranch house and asked Lil if the remains were that of Johnny Clark and was she the girl he’d been arguing with before he disappeared.

  Once the canvas was tied up in a long bundle the sound of a helicopter grew louder.

  “Grab onto the horses!” Alfred hollered. Everyone but Ryan scrambled to grab their horses and moved out of the initial wind of the propeller. They didn’t need to end up walking off the mountain if the horses spooked and ran away.

  Shandra held onto Apple and Duke as Ryan hooked the bundled remains and clay they’d gathered from under the bones onto a rope. The tarp rose in the air and disappeared into the helicopter. Once the aircraft moved off, everyone started loading up their gear, getting ready to head back down the mountain.

  “If it had been any later the helicopter would have had to wait until tomorrow morning to pick up the remains.” Ryan retrieved his horse’s reins from Shandra.

  “I knew it would take time to dig the bones out, I just hadn’t figured on it taking this long.” She mounted her horse and reined him toward the path leading back to the ranch.