Stone of Vengeance

by Vickie Britton

  Mary Ellen continued to stare at her in the same startled way. ‘They could have fought and Swen could have shot him.’ Mary Ellen fell silent for a while. ‘But it wouldn’t have to have been Swen. He’s got a right-hand man who would do anything to protect him, his foreman, Ty Garrison. It’s that man who really scared Uncle Charles. It’s that man who really scares me.’

  Kate drove quickly along the deserted road toward the Double S Ranch.

  Evening was fast approaching and a smell of rain wafted in the air. Well-kept pastureland stretched endlessly on either side of her. Cattle, red-gold coats shining in the waning light, milled uneasily, as if aware of an approaching storm. They stopped all motion to watch curiously as she passed.

  The road dead-ended just ahead. Across a high wooden arch dangled an iron sign: Double S. Even from this distance Kate could glimpse Swen’s house; white, with a columned porch, which would have been more at home on some southern plantation.

  A lone man bent on one knee repairing the gate to a huge corral. He wore a black jacket and a dark Stetson obscured his face, causing him to seem more of a shadow than a real person.

  As Kate started toward him, the man rose slowly, wiping his hands across long, jean-clad legs. With a hint of a smile, he read aloud the lettering on her badge, ‘Belle County Sheriff.’ He added jokingly, ‘A great improvement over Ben Addison.’

  Definitely not Swen, much too young, Kate thought, and handsome in a rugged sort of way. She liked his eyes, the way they had unexpectedly lightened, their colour uncertain in the stormy light.

  ‘What brings the sheriff of Belle County out here?’ he asked. As he spoke, he removed his hat, freeing waves of sun-streaked hair. Again she was struck by the attractiveness of his features, chiselled and vigorous, like a Frederick Remington sculpture.

  ‘Have you heard about what happened at the Kingsley ranch last night?’

  ‘Sad business,’ he replied with a shake of his head, ‘but it has absolutely nothing to do with the Double S.’

  ‘I need to talk to Mr Swen. Is he here?’

  ‘You can talk to me,’ he said.

  Moments ago she had liked his eyes, but now they had become cold and challenging. Perhaps all the talk about Tom Horn caused the image of an outlaw to spring to her mind, to become one with the man Mary Ellen had warned her about, who could very well be Swen’s hired gun.

  ‘I’m foreman of the Double S,’ he said, as if he had intercepted her thoughts, ‘Ty Garrison. Whatever business you have with Swen, you can discuss with me.’

  ‘Not possible,’ she replied.

  As Kate continued to stare at him, the outlaw image intensified. What she had at first taken to be a shadow along his jawline, she now recognized as a dark bruise – from a fight. Her thoughts shifted back to the dead man. Ty Garrison could have forced his way into Charles Kingsley’s house last night and battled with Kingsley over his gun.

  ‘Someone murdered Charles Kingsley. I need to ask a few questions to Mr Swen, and you.’

  ‘Ask me anything you want to. As for Swen, his lawyer is Milt Sanders. Talk to him.’

  ‘What dealings have you had with the Rocking C. recently?’

  ‘No dealings. Ever.’

  ‘Did you leave this ranch after ten o’clock last night?’

  ‘No. I went to bed early. Alone, so don’t bother asking me if anyone can verify my whereabouts.’

  ‘It looks as if you’ve been in a fight,’ Kate said cautiously. ‘Do you mind telling me how you got that bruise?’

  Humour momentarily returned, flickering in his eyes. ‘Would you believe me if I told you I ran into a door?’

  Knowing the uselessness of talking to him any longer, she started toward the house. Ty Garrison swiftly caught up with her. At the entrance he stepped in front of her, blocking her way. ‘I told you, Swen’s not available now.’

  ‘Then I will be back.’

  Without bothering to reply, he turned, strode across the porch and into the house.

  The rudeness of Swen’s foreman, the bruise on his face, only served to justify her suspicion that one or both of them might be involved in Kingsley’s death. Although Ty Garrison had led her to believe that Swen wasn’t home, Kate felt certain that the man she wanted to talk to stood just inside the house, right behind that closed door.

  Kate drove off, but had no intention of leaving. She parked the squad car behind a copse of trees near the ranch and hiked back. She headed toward an old shed where, while remaining out of sight, she could watch the front door.

  Soon, a figure emerged from the house. Swen walked like a young man, head held high, his steps quick as he crossed the yard to a tan Dodge truck with a showy silver Double S hood ornament. Kate first noted the hardness of his face, his leathery skin cut with deep lines. A man to be reckoned with, she thought.

  Before he had a chance to open the truck door, she approached. ‘You’ve heard about Charles Kingsley,’ she said.

  Swen turned, startled. His heavy denim jacket hung open as if he had thrown it on hastily. Beneath it he wore a flannel shirt, the same faded grey as his eyes. ‘Guess his double-dealing finally caught up with him.’

  The light that remained in the evening sky glinted in his narrowed gaze. He seemed to be assessing her, labelling her as the enemy.

  ‘I was here earlier. Your foreman told me you were unavailable.’

  Swen made no reply.

  ‘Do you know how he got that bruise on his face?’

  Still no answer.

  ‘You might as well tell me. You know I’ll find out.’

  ‘That fight was between him and Kingsley’s foreman. Hal Barkley came over here mouthing off, and Ty showed him the way home. That’s all there was to it.’

  Recalling Mary Ellen’s words, Kate decided to press the issue. ‘Ty Garrison has been in trouble with the law before. Did you know that when you made him foreman?’

  ‘I hire cowhands. Not usually from church groups. Ty’s top of the line. A bit over-protective, maybe. Has an overdose of loyalty, but believe me, that isn’t a fault.’

  ‘Where were you last night, Mr Swen?’

  ‘In my office with the books. Until around midnight when I turned in.’

  ‘Can anyone verify that?’

  ‘No,’ he cut her off. ‘Why would I be in need of an alibi?’ His voice had not risen. His eyes remained level, too. They possessed depth and perception that in some way softened the ruggedness of his appearance; that and the fact that his iron-grey hair curled in such a boyish fashion around his temples.

  She decided that he would respond better to frankness. ‘You’re a major suspect,’ she returned. ‘You’ve made threats. I can find witnesses.’

  ‘You go ahead and line up your witnesses,’ he said, still unruffled. ‘That won’t get any further than the other contemptible charges Kingsley was always bringing against me.’

  ‘Cattle rustling, you mean?’

  ‘Why would I want to steal from his straggly old herd? I run top-grade cattle. Truth is, I could buy and sell him.’

  ‘According to statements I got from the Rocking C, Mr Kingsley intended to take you to court. He must have thought he had a solid case against you.’

  ‘He had … nothing. Just a set-up attempt. Just another one of his crooked schemes to try to force me out. He always wanted to own the whole blasted territory.’

  ‘Did he say the same thing about you?’

  Swen had met her open accusations without taking offence. This statement caused him to react. ‘That’s your last question,’ he replied slowly. ‘I’ve got work to see to.’

  ‘No, I have one more. Have you ever heard of Tom Horn’s signature? Of the way he left a stone beneath the heads of the people he gunned down?’

  Swen stared at her coldly. ‘Everyone around here knows that story,’ he said in the same low, controlled tone. ‘Horn killed cattle rustlers. Did the law’s job, I’d say. He wasn’t ashamed of what he did either, or he wouldn’t have left th
at trademark behind, the one I’ve always called the “stone of vengeance”.’

  The stone of vengeance – Swen’s words kept replaying. Kate tried to concentrate on the rough, winding road that cut across so much empty land, vast rolling hills now encased by darkness. A light drizzle had started to fall, and she turned on her windscreen wipers, enjoying the pleasant rain smell in the air, the methodical slap-slap of the blades against the glass.

  She liked driving alone in the squad car, the only part of her busy day that allowed her time to think. Her thoughts locked on the Double S, the double threat that existed there in the form of Sam Swen and Ty Garrison. With Sheriff Addison in the hospital, that meant she must go up against them herself and for a moment she wondered if that were possible.

  Kate had sensed about Sam Swen a certain out-manoeuvering shrewdness and that made her wary of him. Not that this trait couldn’t be found in honourable men. She couldn’t really think of Swen as a cold-blooded killer, yet if Swen thought himself justified, she could well picture him squaring off with his long-time enemy.

  But more likely, she qualified, Swen had hired Ty Garrison to do his dirty work for him. Maybe he had employed this drifter as a gun hand, the same way the cattle barons of long ago had hired Tom Horn to rid themselves of rustlers. Swen had even defended Horn to her, pointing out that he had only been doing the law’s business.

  Kate must find out more about Ty Garrison, what, for instance, lay behind his deep allegiance to Swen. She wondered if Swen had done some favour for him, bailed him out of jail, or got him out of some kind of trouble. How far would Garrison go to prove his loyalty to Swen? Would his job description include murder if he felt it necessary to keep Swen safe?

  A sudden curve called her full attention back to the road. She checked her speed; if she had spotted someone else going that fast she would have given them a ticket, she thought wryly. Though she didn’t have to worry about encountering any traffic at all out here.

  The rain increased, forcing her to slow down further. Kate tensely focused her efforts on trying to steer the vehicle safely through the pelting downpour.

  She was approaching an intersection of two blacktopped roads, which marked the division between the Double S and the Rocking C. Before she reached it, headlights some distance away off to the north, switched on. The sudden glow, penetrating through blackness and pouring rain, alarmed her.

  She could make out what she thought to be an old pick-up roaring towards her. Cold fear gripped her as she realized that whoever sat behind the wheel planned to collide with her. She attempted to swerve sideways into a stop, but the driver of the truck was closing in on her with madman speed.

  Chapter 2

  Kate strained to see through the rain-drenched window. She couldn’t make out the face of the driver, only a wide-brimmed hat pulled low, but for a moment her headlights illuminated a black-clad arm.

  Panic filled her. He was going to run her off the road! If she survived the crash, he would find and kill her!

  She felt jarred by the shuddering impact of metal against metal. The airbag activated. She struggled with this, trying frantically to maintain her hold on the wheel, but the jolt sent her sliding to the muddy shoulder of the road. The tyres on the right side sank and the vehicle began to spin and roll.

  The car slammed to a stop on the passenger side, the one that had taken the brunt of the collision. Kate, stunned, peered from the crazily tilted windscreen in time to see the fast disappearing tail-lights of the truck.

  For a moment, Kate remained motionless. She cautiously rotated her shoulder, which had been wrenched during the impact. Nothing more than a dull ache. She moved her right leg. Despite the slight pain, she felt a great sense of relief that nothing was broken. She had survived without serious injury.

  Kate battled the airbag and freed herself from the seat belt. The front door would not open. On shaky legs, she worked her way into the back seat and managed to push up the back door. She climbed out into the rain.

  She located her police radio and used it to call the station. She would, of course, get Jeff instead of Lem. ‘Stay where you are,’ he said.

  As if she could go anywhere, she thought wryly.

  ‘I know that intersection. I’m on my way.’

  The big deputy had never looked so good to her. For the first time since she had known him, he addressed her in a totally earnest way, ‘Kate, are you hurt?’ He held her against him for a moment. ‘You’re soaking wet.’

  Supporting her, he led her to his car, then hurried to the driver’s side and ducked in under the wheel. ‘Got to get you to the hospital.’

  ‘No, Jeff. I’m fine. Just a little shaken.’

  ‘Don’t give me that. You need to see a doctor.’

  ‘We can’t waste any time. Whoever hit me headed off into the canyon area.’

  ‘I’ve called in the description of the vehicle that you gave me, but I doubt we’ll find him. Probably some drunk. Hit and run.’

  ‘No, I was a deliberate target.’

  As usual, Jeff didn’t listen. ‘He must have got scared when he saw he’d hit a cop car. He’ll lay low if he’s smart, keep the vehicle off the road. Maybe hide it in some garage or barn until he can repair it. Too bad you didn’t get any license plate number.’

  ‘Too dark and rainy for that,’ Kate said.

  Jeff slanted her a close look. ‘You sure you’re all right?’

  Kate nodded.

  ‘Take off that jacket and get into this.’ He reached into the back seat and handed her his raincoat. I’m going to take a look around.’

  Jeff returned. Now that he knew she was unharmed, he became once more the Jeff she knew and didn’t love. He gave a low whistle, ‘It will have to be towed out.’ Jeff shook his head, for a moment seeming more satisfied than sympathetic. ‘Our new patrol car. Ben’s not going to like this.’

  ‘Did you find anything that would serve as evidence?’

  Jeff spoke in his slow, sardonic way, ‘No. In fact, I’m going to report that you just made up this speeding truck story. That you ran off the road and tried to cover up your carelessness. Too afraid to face old Ben with all the damage you’ve done.’

  Some time to be tormenting her with his teasing. Kate wasn’t even able to work up her usual irritation. She felt lost in the huge raincoat, like a child trying to play sheriff. ‘Let’s get started. The truck was badly damaged. It’s possible it didn’t get far away from here. I want to check all the roads he could possibly have taken.’

  ‘You’re sure this wasn’t just some normal hit and run?’

  ‘I’m positive.’

  Jeff often seemed more annoying when he became dead serious. ‘Ben should have known better than to have put you in charge,’ he said at last. ‘He’s set you up for this attack. You’re no match for some crazy killer. What were you doing out here after hours anyway?’

  ‘I went over to the Double S. I wanted to question Swen.’

  ‘So that’s what happened. You crossed the mighty Sam Swen, and he got back at you.’

  Kate thought of the glimpse of the driver’s arm clad in dark jacket just like the one Ty Garrison had been wearing. ‘Maybe not Swen,’ she replied, ‘but someone is definitely warning me to back off from the Kingsley murder.’

  Jeff cut from the old blacktop back to the main highway. ‘Where are we going?’ Kate asked incredulously. ‘The truck headed the other way.’

  ‘I’m taking you to Rock Creek.’

  Arguing with Jeff, as always, proved useless. ‘Then just drop me off at home,’ Kate said as they approached the town. ‘I don’t need to see a doctor.’

  Relieved to be free of Jeff, Kate quickly changed clothes, got in her personal vehicle, and started off on her own search. She spent the next half hour driving through torrents of rain, up and down treacherous and slippery side roads. Kate kept her eyes trained on the pine-covered ravines.

  She turned onto a dirt trail, her Landcruiser, despite the four-wheel drive,
careening on the soggy surface. The trees that encroached on each side made strange, dripping shadows that looked ghostly in the darkness. Tyres skidded as they laboriously climbed the steep hill flanked by deep gullies. Midway up Kate spotted the black shape of a vehicle left abandoned at the bottom of the embankment.

  She couldn’t believe her luck – she had found the truck. Kate drove to the level at the top and stopped. With gun in one hand, torch in the other, with feet sliding on the muddy slope, she quickly made her way downward. Even though the indistinct image blended with the blackness, she felt certain this was the truck. The driver, thinking the vehicle would not be found here for some time, had purposely abandoned it; if it had accidentally veered from the shoulder, it would not have ended up on all four wheels.

  Rain streamed across the smashed front end of the pickup and dripped from the gap of broken headlight. Kate encircled the truck and to her surprise found a licence plate from Belle County. At the front, halted again and drew in a gasp of surprise when she made out on the twisted plate the gleaming red letters: Double S.

  Kate, rain thudding around her, forced open the driver’s door. Just as she flashed the beam of light into the cab, she heard the rushing sound of footsteps from behind her. Although she had no time to spin around, she got an impression of a dark-clad arm lifted high in the air. A blow struck the side of her head, causing her to fall forward. Intense pain fingered like fire through the base of her neck and into her shoulders. She tried to pull herself up, to glimpse the face of her attacker, but blackness blotted her vision. Kate groped for some handhold, but felt herself slipping downward into a murky bed of mud and water.

  *

  Kate regained consciousness not knowing where she was, but aware of the jolting of a heavy truck. At first she thought she had been dumped into the old pickup, but the dome light shone across a polished dashboard and expensive leather seats. Slowly she made out Ty Garrison’s sharp, distinct profile. His broad shoulders leaned forward, large hands intently gripping the wheel.