Death of a Rancher's Daughter

by Susan P. Baker

  “Did your parents move back to Mexico before or after the fire?”

  “Objection. Assuming facts not in evidence.” Sandra stood again.

  Erma jumped up. “Ms. Salinsky asked about that on direct.”

  Sandra laughed. “Just trying to keep the prosecutor on his toes.”

  “Objection to sidebar, Judge.” Erma was enjoying their repartee as DA and defense lawyer.

  Mel's eyes grew wide. “Overruled?”

  “Thank you, Your Honor.” Erma sat back in her chair.

  Sandra winked at Mel and sat down again.

  “Well, let's talk about the fire, shall we?” Erma clicked a ballpoint pen like Holt had done in the bail reduction hearing. “You hated Katy Jo ever since she set the fire that burned down your house and killed your husband and caused you to be badly scarred, right?”

  Rufina kept her eyes on Erma. “No, sir. I didn't hate Katy Jo. I forgave her a long time ago.”

  Erma stood but stayed next to her chair and asked the next question. “She burned down your house and killed your husband. How could you not hate her?”

  “Sir, I love those children like they are my own. I don't hate them. Any of them.”

  Erma peered over her glasses at the pretend jury box and shook her head, like she couldn't believe her ears. “You love Mrs. Schindler's children? All of her children?”

  “...Yes...”

  “You can't hesitate, Rufina.” Sandra moved to where Erma stood, staying behind her. “He'll make something of it. I don't know if you were thinking of one of the children you dislike more than the others or what—wouldn't surprise me if you were thinking of Rex—or even Katy Jo if you did hate her for burning down your house and killing your husband—”

  “No. I don't hate any of them.” Rufina stared at the two lawyers, her face drawn up, her hands gripping the arms of her chair. “It's just Rex has been unpleasant to me in the last few years.”

  “And we have no idea what that's about,” Erma said. “But the time to find out is not in the middle of a trial. So don't hesitate or Holt will jump on it and make mincemeat out of you.”

  “We'll talk more about Rex.” Sandra went back to Rufina and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Right now, Rufina, don't hesitate. Don't worry. We got this.”

  Rufina nodded. “May I have a drink of water? My mouth is so dry.”

  “Sure, in a minute.” Sandra raised her eyebrows in Erma's direction.

  From her conversations with Rufina and what had come out during their trial prep, Erma realized Rufina was hiding something. Sandra and she had discussed it and intended to discover it and soon. She waved Sandra back and assumed her Holt persona. “So you love Mrs. Schindler's children. All of her children?”

  “Yes, sir. All of them. Even when they played tricks on me, like all little children do.” She wet her lips. “I only wished I had some of my own, but I never did.”

  “I like that,” Sandra said. “Be sure to say something like that. Get the jury, especially the women, to sympathize with you.”

  “It's true.” Rufina stared down into her lap.

  “So, Mrs. Barboza, you didn't hate Katy Jo. Why'd you shoot her?”

  Rufina’s head jerked up. “Sandra, aren't you going to object?”

  Sandra shrugged. “Can't. No grounds. Asking a direct question like that is what Holt will do, and you need to be ready.”

  “I did not shoot her, sir.” Rufina's eyes held steady. She remained still.

  “Were you aiming for Mrs. Schindler?”

  They all knew BJ had not been in the room when the shot was fired. This was another tricky question that Rufina had to be careful about.

  “I wasn't aiming for anyone, Mr. Holt. I wasn't in Mrs. Schindler's bedroom that night. I wasn't even in the house.”

  “Good answer,” Sandra said. “Too bad you can't extrapolate on that and say you weren't in town, in the State, or even in the country.”

  Erma pointed her pen at Sandra. “Ha. Ha. Very funny, but we don't have time for humor.” She looked back at Rufina, being Holt again. “If you weren't in Mrs. Schindler's bedroom, where were you?”

  “In my own bedroom. In my cottage, sir.”

  “A cottage similar to the one that was burned down?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “There had been a dinner party the night of the murder, correct?”

  “Yes, Mr. Holt. A small dinner for the family, and Douglas Christian, and Mr. Elgin Burgess after the big dinner for all the workers.”

  “Mr. Burgess is who? A friend of the family?”

  “He was a friend of Mr. Schindler's and now Mrs. Schindler's.”

  “Did you serve the meal?”

  Rufina's eyebrow lowered very slightly. “No, sir. Two girls, who worked in the kitchen, served. I supervised, and when everything looked like it was going okay, I went home. I'm sure they served the guests and ate their own meals in the kitchen and left as usual.”

  “You don't take your meals there?” Erma cocked her head like she thought Holt would do.

  “Sometimes.”

  “Not that night?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Can anyone vouch for you, Mrs. Barboza? Can anyone come in here and testify about where you were during that dinner party and afterwards?”

  Rufina's eyes shifted from Erma to Sandra and back to Erma. Any fool could see she didn't want to answer.

  Sandra had moved over near the window. “You can’t cover for Doug and Katy Jo, Rufina. Doug confirmed what you already told me about him and Katy Jo using the second bedroom in your cottage as a meeting place.”

  Rufina hesitated. “But BJ doesn't know. I promised I would never tell her.”

  “You won't be telling her. Anyway, Katy Jo is dead, so it doesn't matter if she was sleeping with her boyfriend without benefit of marriage, for Christ's sake.” Erma threw her pen down.

  “Her mother will think ill of her.” Rufina rubbed her lips together and squinted at Erma.

  “Screw that, Rufina,” Erma said. “Your freedom—the rest of your life—is at stake.” There was more to it, something more that Rufina wasn't saying. Erma tried to catch Sandra's eye. They should probably discuss it again before they accused their client of hiding something. “Just tell the jury Doug was in your cottage, spending the night in your second bedroom, at the time of the shooting. Isn't that true?”

  Rufina became wide-eyed, like a trapped animal. “A drink of water, please? My mouth is so dry.”

  Rufina was avoiding something for sure. Erma nodded. “I understand, mine is too. Go ahead.” After Rufina left the room, Sandra took the trial notebook and perched on the edge of the table next to where Erma sat. “Mel, why don't you go downstairs to the kitchen and turn off the coffee pot. Smells like it's burning.”

  “If you don't want me to hear what you're going to talk about, say so.” Mel jogged to the door.

  “Put some cookies out on a plate, too.” Erma imagined the taste of dark chocolate and a black coffee to go with it. “Some of those Patricia baked yesterday, not those store-bought ones your mother got.” Erma didn't even glance at Sandra for a reaction. She pushed back in her chair, more than ready for a break herself.

  “This is the scenario as I understand it.” Sandra laid the binder on the table. She opened it to the tab that said Rufina and pointed to a couple of sentences. “Rufina says she was in her cottage. She was not part of the dinner party.”

  “Right.” Erma stood and stretched.

  Sandra flipped to a tab that said Katy Jo. “After dinner and dessert, Katy Jo was supposed to be in her own room, and Doug supposedly had left, but in reality, Doug and Katy Jo were in the second bedroom at Rufina's.” She turned to the next tab. Kathy Lynn. “Kathy Lynn was supposedly in her bedroom.”

  “I hear you. Supposedly. You don't have to show me each tab. I'm aware of where everyone was, supposedly. Rex had gone to his room. Elgin had gone home.”

  “That left BJ in her room, undressed and ready
for bed. She said she had read for a few minutes when Katy Jo came into her bedroom and asked could she talk to her. BJ and Katy Jo only had a few minutes together, supposedly, when BJ went to the restroom. While she was gone, someone came in and shot Katy Jo.”

  Erma crossed her arms and leaned against the table. “Definitely something is out of whack.”

  “If I didn't think it was one-hundred percent unlikely that BJ left the room to set up Katy Jo, I'd be suspicious of her being out of the room.”

  “I can guaran-damn-tee you there was no setup.” Erma went to the rear of the library and picked up a marker, writing names on the white board. “Besides who knew Katy Jo was going to be in there? Except Doug.”

  “And he loved her. So if it wasn't someone who wasn't at the dinner party—like a ranch hand—we have to figure out what was really going on and which of the others committed the murder and why.”

  “Well, not really, but it would be helpful to know, so we can point the finger at one of them.” Erma drew lines from the different characters to each other and wrote where they were.

  “That's what I meant.” Sandra chewed on the end of her pen. “Are we missing someone?”

  “So far, no one has given us any reason to believe someone outside the family—and employees—came into the house that night. When we were first up there, the night you absented yourself,” Erma said, giving Sandra a drawn-together-eyebrow look, “the dinner I had with the same crew—minus Kathy Lynn, Katy Jo, and Doug—was pretty civilized, but there was an undertone.” Erma put red question marks next to each person's name on the board.

  “You have no idea what was up with that? That undertone?”

  Erma shook her head. “Don't have a clue.”

  “Let's not forget Carlos, Rufina's brother. He's angry with her. Maybe he returned,” Sandra said. “Do we even know where he lives? Would he have had the opportunity if he lived nearby?”

  “I think on the ranch. So he could have, but unlikely.” Erma wrote his name on the board. “Anyway, if everyone had left like they've said, wouldn't the alarm have been set? Could Carlos know the code?”

  Rufina's brother could have been out-of-control angry. As much as she didn't like Rex, Erma didn't want him to have been behind the murder. BJ had enough to deal with already. Erma would rather Carlos—or anyone else—be the killer.

  “Anybody could know the code,” Sandra said. “People have a way of being careless about things like that when familiar people are around. However, we have no reason to believe any of the other employees had a bone to pick with Katy Jo or any members of the family.”

  “Well, I know one goddamned thing, we need to get to the bottom of this and quick. If it wasn't Rufina, and we know it wasn't, then Kathy Lynn, Rex, Doug, Elgin Burgess, and possibly Carlos is a murderer.” Erma emphasized each name with a slash of red.

  “Or, someone no one has mentioned or has forgotten about, or has been ruled out by whomever knows about them. The million-dollar question is, who wanted Katy Jo dead?”

  Erma shook her head. “I can't imagine.”

  “BJ could have been the target.”

  “Shit.” Erma said. “I can't stand to think of that. I can't believe any of them would have a motive to murder my sweet friend.”

  “We'll work on that, but for our purposes, our job is to figure out which one is the weakest link. Which one of those four, or five, people should we focus on to interject reasonable doubt?”

  “Well, we have Doug and the gun, so that's a start.”

  The toilet flushed and the water faucet began running in the bathroom. Sandra lowered her voice. “The other thing we need to do is find out what Rufina is hiding. I intend to find out that today.”

  After the break, after Erma had her coffee and cookies, she put Rufina back on their make-shift witness stand to continue grilling her. Rufina was their client, and they were going to do their jobs in spite of her secretiveness. Erma assumed Holt's persona again, down to stroking her jacket lapels like she'd seen Holt do at the arraignment. “Now, Mrs. Barboza, we were talking about where you were at the time of the shooting. You say you weren't the shooter, and you say you were in your cottage. Were you alone?”

  Rufina squirmed. She fidgeted with her hands. Her eyes met Erma's, then Sandra's, then Mel's. Something was definitely going on with her.

  Erma waited to see if Sandra thought they should send Mel out of the room in the unlikely event something salacious came up.

  “Don't worry, Grandma, I know all about sex—if it is about sex.” Mel lowered her voice, “Or should I say, 'Don't worry, Mr. Holt.’” She grinned as if to dare either of them to question that statement.

  “At fifteen, I'm not surprised.” Things were much looser now than when Erma had first started practicing law. She felt a twinge in her heart for Sandra, having to raise a daughter in current times.

  “Go ahead, Rufina, answer the question.” Sandra's eyes bored into Rufina’s.

  “I don't want to get anyone in trouble.” Rufina's eyes continued darting around.

  “By that statement, to whom do you refer?” Erma had never been a patient person and now her patience was running thin. She had a problem with clients who weren't as forthcoming as she thought they should be.

  “Can we do this kind-of off the record?” Rufina wore a hopeful expression.

  Sandra's face screwed up. “All of this is off the record. Attorney-client privilege.” She approached Rufina. “So what haven't you told us?”

  Rufina ran her hands up and down on the arms of the chair. “I wouldn't want the real district attorney to find out.”

  Erma joined them at the faux witness stand. “What don't you want him to know?”

  “I haven't told anyone this. Not even Billie J.”

  “Spill.” Erma said, trying not to sound angry. “The whole story.” Her back aching, she pulled a chair over. She didn't want Sandra to know how she was feeling. Now was not the time to get into a fuss about her health. She focused on Rufina. She couldn't begin to imagine what Rufina had been hiding.

  Mel scooted close and shrugged like I'm-part-of-this-too.

  Sandra leaned against the library table.

  “I have a—a friend.” Rufina smiled a bit, pleased with herself but embarrassed to admit she'd been concealing something. At least that's how Erma took it.

  “By friend, you mean—”

  “Boyfriend—man friend.”

  “Goddamn.” Erma laughed. “At your age?”

  “I'm no older than you, Señora Townley.” Rufina tilted her head at Erma.

  “Erma, not Mrs. Townley. I've told you—but never mind. I'm just so surprised.” Erma realized what she sounded like, that between Rufina's disfiguring scars and her age, no one would want her. None of them, of course, would say so.

  “I know what you are thinking, but not everyone judges me by how I look.” She straightened up and smoothed her blouse around her.

  Heat flushed Erma's face like she'd been slapped. “I apologize, Rufina. You're a very nice person.” Ashamed, Erma glanced at her daughter and granddaughter. “We all know that.”

  “What's his name?” Sandra leaned over the library table, her pen and notepad before her.

  “Efrain. Efrain Guillermo Montes.”

  Erma tried not to think about the last time she, herself, had been with a man. “So Efrain was with you in the cottage after the dinner?”

  “He's usually with me every night except when he plays poker with his amigos, or I'm doing something with Billie J.”

  “Damn,” Erma said. A pang of envy niggled at her. “You lucky—”

  Rufina laughed so hard she began choking and covered her mouth.

  Erma cleared her throat. “Let's get back to business.” She made note of the man's name on her own legal pad. “You said even BJ doesn't know about him?”

  “He's a hand on the ranch. She might not like it if she knew. She's a lot more conservative than she lets on. Like with Douglas and Katy Jo.”


  Erma had visions of Rufina and Efrain doing the deed in one bedroom and Doug and Katy Jo doing it at the same time in the other bedroom. She could understand why BJ might be uncomfortable.

  “I'm confused.” Sandra began pacing at the foot of the table. “Your brother thinks you're a lesbian, having an affair with BJ.”

  Rufina's face screwed up. “My brother wouldn't approve either.”

  “So you let him think you're a lesbian?” Sandra stopped and stared at Rufina. “And Rex. Rex has been spreading that rumor. Where did he get that idea?”

  “I don't know. Billie J and I, we spend a lot of time together. We travel together. Rex never liked that.” She picked at her skirt, twisting some of the fabric into a knot.

  “I thought Rex had a job and lived in San Antonio. Why the hell would he care whether you and his mother went on a trip together?” Erma asked.

  “Rex is jealous. He has always wanted to be the center of his mother's attention, even if he doesn't live at home most of the time. When he comes to the house, he can be demanding.”

  “Was he jealous of the girls, too?” Sandra started pacing again.

  “Sí, sí, sí. When the girls were younger and Billie J would take them on shopping trips to Houston or Dallas, he hated that. She'd better bring him something when she came home.”

  Erma crossed her arms and stared at Rufina. So much to think about. She was damn sure glad she and Sandra had put this little session together. This was so much more than she'd expected.

  “I wonder where Rex really was at the time of the shooting,” Sandra said.

  “He and Elgin were the last to go to bed, supposedly.” Erma referred to her notes. “Rather, he walked Elgin out after they said their good nights, Elgin left, and Rex went to bed.” She took a sip of coffee. Ugh. Cold and bitter.

  “I wonder, since Elgin is trying to court BJ, whether Rex told Elgin this lesbian stuff,” Sandra said.

  “Why? Are you suspecting Elgin now?” Rufina asked.

  Sandra threw her hands up. “Hell, I don't know. Kathy Lynn, Doug, Elgin, Rex, and BJ were all there for dinner that night.” She took a spin around the room. “I suspect everybody. If I didn't find it so hard to believe a man would kill his sister, Rex would be my number one suspect, don't you think so, Erma? But if he wanted to kill his sister, he's had years to do the deed. What would precipitate his killing her that particular night?”