Tarnished Remains: Shandra Higheagle Mystery #2

by Paty Jager

  “How is that?” Ryan asked, becoming more interested in Lil’s upbringing.

  “They didn’t let her go off the ranch except to school. When she wasn’t at school she was working alongside Jackass mending fences, moving cattle, whatever chore needed done.” He scratched his head with long, gnarled fingers. “That was the only thing Jackass and I ever quarreled about. How he didn’t let that girl grow some wings and learn to fly.”

  Shandra touched the man’s arm, drawing his attention to her. “What did Jackass and Ginny think of Johnny Clark, the rodeo announcer Lil was dating?”

  “They liked him well enough, but were worried about him being an alcoholic.”

  “Do you think if he asked Lil to marry him, they would have allowed it?” Shandra asked.

  Ryan moved his gaze between the two. Shandra waited, practically holding her breath. The old man seemed to be studying on the question.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  “I think if Lil said she loved the man, and he proved to be stable, they would have given their blessing. I know Ginny wanted Lil to find a man and be happy,” Mr. Langley said. “And it would have done the girl good to get away from that ranch for a while.”

  Shandra released the air clogged in her lungs. She’d wondered if maybe Jackass-Ralph had killed Johnny to keep Lil around, but from Mr. Langley’s comment, she mentally scratched him off the list of suspects.

  “Thank you Mr. Langley. You’ve told us what we needed to know.” Ryan touched her shoulder. “Come on. We’ve heard what we needed.”

  Shandra gently patted the old man’s hand, gnarled and crippled by arthritis. “It was a pleasure to meet you. Our visit with you was very helpful.” She stood and walked to the door.

  “You two come back again. I don’t get many visitors.”

  The wistfulness on the man’s face tugged at Shandra.

  “I’ll stop in the next time I come to Hafersville.” She walked out the door and leaned on Ryan. “I don’t know what the nurse was talking about, he’s a nice old man.”

  Ryan put an arm around her shoulders. “I have a feeling you bring out the best in everyone you meet.”

  “No, with my background and volatile step-father, I learned to judge people before I start talking with them. If you keep the conversation on what they like or what brings them fond memories, you can learn a lot and make them happy.” Shandra straightened. “I’m thinking we need to have a chat with Jerome Whitmire.”

  “I had the same idea.” Ryan held the passenger door open for her.

  She slid in and waited for him to walk around the front of the vehicle.

  Once he was behind the steering wheel, Ryan pulled out his phone and dialed. “Cathleen, I need the address for Jerome Whitmire in Hafersville.” His face wrinkled into a frown. “No, I don’t want to go in with you and Bridget for a wedding gift.”

  He rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Because I already have a gift for them.”

  Ryan started the engine. “Text me the address.” He pressed a button and put the phone back in the holster on his belt.

  “You call your sister to get addresses for you?” Shandra wondered at the budget of the sheriff’s department.

  “She works as a dispatcher for the county. When she isn’t answering the calls, she pulls up information on the computer.” Ryan backed out of the parking space. “Sometimes having a sister in the workplace is a pain in the ass. But there are times when it’s nice to have family there when you come in from a tough assignment.”

  Shandra knew he was close with his siblings. Some days she yearned for a sibling to bounce family strife off of, but as an only child she didn’t have that luxury. She’d thought about connecting with cousins on Daddy’s side. I should really do that.

  Ryan’s phone beeped. He pulled it out, looked at the message, and turned the car left onto the road. “He lives on the high-class side of town.”

  “That makes sense given what we know about his wife’s money.” Shandra studied the downtown area. She’d only driven to Hafersville once since moving to the ranch. It was a quaint town that wasn’t overrun by tourists like Huckleberry. But tourists came on vacations to spend money and that’s where her art needed to be.

  A sign over an old brick building said Whitmire Hardware. “Do you think he’s at the store?” She pointed to the building.

  Ryan pulled into a parking slot. “Let’s see.”

  Shandra climbed out of the vehicle before Ryan came to her side to open the door. She enjoyed his chivalry, but there were times when she wanted out of the car faster than he could round the hood of the car. This was one of them. She had to look Jerome Whitmire in the eyes and see if he lied about Lil and the night Johnny died.

  There were two older men in blue vests. One was helping a customer and the other was standing behind the counter.

  Ryan walked up to the counter. He motioned to the badge attached to his belt and said, “We’re looking for Jerome Whitmire.”

  The man’s eyes widened. “Mr. Whitmire went home about thirty minutes ago after he received a call.”

  Shandra peered into Ryan’s eyes. Who called him?

  “Does he get calls often and leave during the day?” Ryan asked.

  “Once in a while his wife will call and he’ll run out of here. This one wasn’t his wife.” The man shook his head.

  “But it was a woman?” Ryan asked.

  The man nodded vigorously.

  “Come on.” Ryan grasped Shandra’s arm and practically ran to the vehicle.

  “Why are you hurrying? We don’t know where he went.” Shandra climbed into his SUV and slammed the door as Ryan pulled away from the curb.

  “If his car isn’t parked at home, we ask his family where he might be. But my first guess is he’s in Huckleberry. Someone there got his attention.”

  Ryan dialed the police radio in his car. “Hazel? Look up the license and make of Jerome Whitmire’s vehicle. Have Blane cruise around town looking for it. Tell him not to engage but let me know where he is. Over”

  Ryan had a bad feeling about Whitmire rabbiting. He was either running or he was out to take care of someone who knew he killed Johnny Clark.

  The SUV sat on its nose as he slammed on the brakes when he nearly missed the road to the Whitmire house. He turned up a long drive lined with Chinese maple and stopped in front of a large log home. The house appeared to be new compared to the rest of the town.

  Shandra’s knuckles were white from gripping the arm rest.

  “Sorry about that. I think someone may be in danger. We need to discover where Whitmire is as quickly as possible.” He exited the vehicle.

  Shandra scrambled out and followed him up the walkway. “I understand. Sort of. You believe Jerome killed Johnny?”

  “Yes. To keep Lil from marrying. I think he was hoping to get back in his parents’ good graces.” Ryan raised his hand and rapped on the door.

  A teen-aged girl answered the door. “May I help you?”

  Ryan tapped his badge. “Detective Greer with the Weippe County Sheriff. I’d like to speak with Jerome Whitmire.”

  “He’s not here.” The girl started to close the door.

  Ryan shoved his weight against the door, pushing the girl backward. “I need to talk with Mrs. Whitmire then.”

  “My grandmother’s busy.” The girl tried to shove back, but her teenage body was no match for his bulk.

  Ryan shoved the door open and stood inside. “Tell her it could be the difference between her going to jail as an accessory or just answering questions.”

  “Heidi, let the man in. I have nothing to be worried about.”

  A tall slender woman in clothes Ryan was pretty sure cost a fortune, sauntered down the hall toward the entry. Sparkly jewelry on her ears, arms, and fingers glittered in the sunlight from the open door.

  Ryan grasped Shandra’s arm, drawing her into the house. He wanted her close by to keep her out of harm should things get ugly.

  The older woman pivot
ed on a silver shoe and headed into what looked to be a living area.

  Ryan followed.

  Once they all stood inside the room, Ryan tapped the badge on his belt. “I’m Detective Greer of the Weippe County—”

  The woman waved her hand. “I heard who you were. What do you want with my husband?” She remained standing.

  Ryan had met this type before when he worked homicide in Chicago. They tried to make you feel inferior by standing and trying to take over the conversation.

  “We need to know why he was at his parents’ house the night the barn caught fire,” Ryan said. Better to start with the questions that would catch the lies than come out and state what he really wanted to know.

  “That was a long time ago. You can’t possibly expect me to remember that far back.” Mrs. Whitmire waved bejeweled hands.

  “It could make the difference between you going to jail with your husband or just him going to jail.” Ryan knew how this type thought. They’d always give up someone else to save their skin.

  “I’ll have to think about it. It was nearly twenty-five—”

  “Thirty. Thirty years ago,” Shandra said.

  Warmth expanded his chest. Shandra knew when to be quiet and when to interject. She was as perceptive as any good detective.

  “Really? That long ago?” Mrs. Whitmire finally settled onto a fancy couch, leaving them to stand or find seating on two matching chairs.

  Ryan motioned to the chairs. Shandra sat in the one farthest from the woman. Ryan took the one closest and pulled out his notepad.

  “The date was September eighth in nineteen-eighty-four,” he read from the notes he took from the police report.

  “I can’t believe you expect me to remember what happened thirty years ago.” The woman took the offensive.

  “I would think you would remember a fire at your in-laws’ ranch,” Shandra said, in a soft, un-accusing tone.

  “I do remember Jerome saying something about the barn, and he’d thought our niece had started it.” The woman’s eyes opened wider. “Is that what you mean? The night Jerome visited and saw Lil coming from the barn, and then the barn going up in flames?”

  Ryan wasn’t convinced the woman wasn’t being theatrical on purpose. “He was positive it was Lil?”

  “He said it was a young, blonde woman. Who else fitting that description would have been at the Whitmire Ranch besides Lil?” Mrs. Whitmire folded her hands in her lap.

  “That’s a lovely ring you have Mrs. Whitmire,” Shandra said, standing. “May I look at it?”

  The woman smiled. “It was a gift from Jerome.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Shandra’s heart pounded in her chest. The ring had one purple stone set in the band. The piece of jewelry was exactly like the ring in her dream. She was surprised when the woman didn’t hesitate to drop it in her hand.

  Her fingers shook as she tipped the ring to see if there was an inscription.

  Forever True, J.

  Her heart went from over beating to a screeching halt. They’d found the murderer. Jerome Whitmire. Now to prove it.

  She cleared her throat to keep her excitement from coming through. “Thank you, Mrs. Whitmire that is a beautiful ring. Do you happen to know where your husband purchased it? I’d love to get one for myself with a different color stone.”

  She glanced at Ryan. He raised an eyebrow in question but remained quiet.

  “I don’t know where Jerome purchased this. He gave it to me right after his parents moved into a retirement home.” She slid the ring back on her finger and glared at Ryan. “I would think if you wanted to know the truth about the fire in the barn you should speak with Crazy Lil.” The woman sniffed. “She should have been locked up years ago.”

  “Why do you say that?” Shandra couldn’t keep the contempt from her voice. Why would anyone want to lock up a perfectly sane person?

  “She was a loner, dressed funny, and she tried to burn down a barn. Isn’t that enough reasons?” The woman stared at Shandra as if she needed to be locked up as well.

  “Those aren’t even close to good reasons. I think you and your husband had other reasons to want Lil out of the way. I think you were hoping to inherit the Whitmire Ranch.” Shandra didn’t spare a glance at Ryan. She was sure he wasn’t happy with her spilling what they knew. But the woman had no right saying how Lil should be treated. May Whitmire only had dollar signs driving her and not the sweet nature of Lil.

  “Of course, we hoped to inherit the ranch after the tragic accident that took Lil’s parents. Then Ralph and Virginia lost their minds and set up that trust for Lil. How could a single woman run a place like that? Especially, with Ralph getting sicker and sicker each year. He wouldn’t be able to help her.”

  Ryan cleared his throat. “But the trust read Lil would receive the ranch at thirty-five if she was married. A husband would solve the problems you stated.”

  Shandra smiled at Ryan. She wanted to say something but felt she’d already overstepped her bounds.

  “Well, yes, there was that. But the girl wasn’t even dating.” Mrs. Whitmire didn’t look at either one of them when she said this.

  “But she was seeing someone. Johnny Clark, the rodeo announcer,” Shandra said sweetly.

  “He was nothing. He proved it by dropping out of her life.” Again, Mrs. Whitmire stared at the wall behind them and not at them.

  “How do you know he dropped out of her life? Moments ago you said she didn’t even have a boyfriend?” Ryan leaned forward in his chair.

  “Well, I knew of the cowboy. Ralph and Virginia called Jerome the night of the fire. They were worried because Lil had been gone for a week. They said Sally Albright called and said Lil was with her, but they feared Lil had run off with that cowboy.” The woman sniffed as if she’d caught the stench of something foul. “That Albright woman was always sticking her nose into business that wasn’t hers. Saying Lil’s mom asked her to. How could Lil’s mom ask her to unless she knew she was going to die?” The woman’s eyes were round and emitted disbelief.

  “Surely, as a parent you’ve asked friends to watch over your children should something happen to you.” Shandra knew her mother had asked her best friend to watch over her daughter should something happen before Shandra was an adult.

  “My children were well taken care of and it would continue if something happened to me.” Mrs. Whitmire was the epitome of an ice parent.

  “So that’s why your husband was at the ranch the night the barn caught fire? To help his parents locate Lil? Even though she was at the ranch.” The skepticism in Ryan’s voice couldn’t have been lost on the woman.

  “Yes. By the time Jerome made the trip all the way to the ranch, Lil had returned.” The woman nodded.

  “Did she say where she’d been?” Ryan continued to question.

  Shandra was happy to see how the woman responded and stayed out of the way.

  “She’d been at that Albright woman’s house.”

  “Like the woman had told her grandparents.” Ryan stated.

  “Yes.” The woman huffed the answer.

  “Why would she set fire to the barn if she’d just returned?” Ryan asked.

  “I don’t know. Who knows why unstable people do what they do.” She stared at her nails.

  “The only reason Jerome went to the ranch was to soothe his parents and help to find Lil?” Ryan asked.

  “Yes.”

  Shandra had a question. “Why did your daughter Janine call home that night? Was it to tell you that Johnny Clark was proposing to Lil?” She didn’t stop to wait for an answer. “While Lil didn’t know about the marriage clause in the trust I bet your daughter did. After all, how else could you keep the two cousins at odds if you didn’t fuel the controversy?”

  “Who are you?” the woman snarled.

  “Lil’s employer and the person who dug up Johnny Clark’s body.”

  “No!” Mrs. Whitmire covered her mouth and shook her head.

  �
�No, what?” Ryan pounced on her exclamation and loss of composure.

  “He was only supposed to pay Johnny off. Make him disappear and not come back.” Mrs. Whitmire slumped back against the sofa.

  “Who was only supposed to pay Johnny off?” Ryan pursued.

  “Jerome. When Janine called with the news Johnny was showing off a ring and planning to marry Lil, I sent Jerome to find Johnny and pay him off. A rodeo cowboy would take the money and run.” She shook her head. “Jerome returned late that night. He said he’d paid off Johnny and then saw Lil running from the burning barn. He said he had the police pull her in. So we’d get the ranch because she’d never marry and we could spread the word she was crazy.”

  “Mrs. Whitmire, Johnny never left that ranch. He’s been buried on the mountain for thirty years. Where can we find your husband?” Ryan stood, flipping his notepad closed.

  “I don’t know. He should be at work.”

  Shandra stood. “We came from there. They said he received a call from a woman and left in a hurry.”

  “Then I have no idea where he could be.” She waved her hand. “Leave. I’m not feeling well.”

  “Thank you for your time.” Ryan waved Shandra to exit.

  Once they were sitting in Ryan’s vehicle, Shandra turned to him. “I think Jerome Whitmire is the murderer. That ring I asked about. I saw it in my dream. Only the message engraved on the inside was Forever True, Johnny. This ring had Forever True, J. He could have had the rest of Johnny removed by a jeweler.”

  Ryan started the engine. “We need to ask the one witness to the ring what it looked like. Maybe by the time we get to Huckleberry, Blane will have found Jerome’s car.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Ryan pulled into Huckleberry and parked in front of the City Recorder’s Office. He was pretty sure given all they knew about Martha, she would be able to describe the ring Johnny had been showing off at the café. What he didn’t understand was Janine had been present at the café at the time. Why hadn’t she made the connection between the ring Johnny was showing off and the one her father gave her mother?