‘Charles intended for us to go together, but after he talked to Mary Ellen on the phone, he suddenly changed his mind. Probably he wanted the chance to talk things over with her in person when I wasn’t on the scene. But I should never have let him go alone. You knew, didn’t you, that Charles had a chronic heart problem? The doctors told him that considering his overall health, they had done all they could do for him. He had a year to live, or maybe two, at best.’ Jennie looked up suddenly, looped earrings, swaying with the quick movement of her head. Kate couldn’t help noticing they were the clip-on type, just like the single earring found in Swen’s truck. ‘I told him I would marry him anyway. I wanted all the time he had left, to make him happy.’
‘I didn’t know.’ Kate waited solemnly watching as Jennie wiped her eyes. Then, thinking of the driver of the black pick-up, she said, ‘So you arrived at the ranch yesterday.’
‘Yes.’
‘Can anyone verify the time you left Casper?’
‘My friend, Ann Lectie will. I borrowed her car. I was going to start right out, but waited until Tuesday morning. I got here about eleven.’
‘I’m puzzled, then, why my office couldn’t get in touch with you.’
‘Probably because I wasn’t home. One thing came up, then another, and they certainly couldn’t have found me on the road driving Ann’s car.’
Her friend would no doubt supply Jennie with an alibi, would say whatever Jennie wanted her to, still Kate wrote down her name and address, asking as she did, ‘How do you think Mary Ellen took the news of Mr Kingsley’s marrying?’
‘I don’t know. Charles avoided discussing his plans with her. Of course, he seldom sought anyone’s approval, just went ahead and did what he thought best. He had that “plunge ahead” trait, that’s what made him so successful.’
‘You would think he’d talk something this important over with her.’
‘He wanted to smooth things over with her, that’s why he was so set on seeing her on Monday. He had put it off as long as he could, but I understood. He had his reasons.’
‘What were they?’
‘Charles took Mary Ellen into his home, befriended her and protected her, not that she ever appreciated it. Charles told me when she was sixteen, she fell for some no good drifter who really had his eye on Charles’ money. Charles had to step in and run him off. He told me that Mary Ellen never forgave him for that.’
‘But you didn’t discuss your marriage plans with Mary Ellen, either.’
‘I could never get close to her,’ Jennie confessed. ‘I tried, but she shut me right out from the beginning. Maybe that’s her way. She just doesn’t know how to act, how to dress, how to talk to people. No one taught her, I suppose. Things might have been different if Charles’ first wife hadn’t died so young. What Mary Ellen needed was a mother, but that role my handsome cowboy just couldn’t play.’ Jennie paused, and Kate thought she detected some hint of dislike in her voice. ‘The girl’s all grown up now, grown up plain and awkward and completely set in her ways.’
At that moment Mary Ellen appeared at the kitchen door. Kate uncomfortably set aside her coffee. Mary Ellen just stood toying with her unattractive glasses. Without them, her eyes looked wide and void of all emotion. Regardless, Kate knew that Mary Ellen had heard Jennie’s words. She could tell by the way Mary Ellen kept her eyes fastened on Charles Kingsley’s bride.
Jennie, reacting in an embarrassed way, said, ‘Poor Charles. Why would anyone want to kill such a wonderful man?’
‘For money,’ Mary Ellen replied, her voice distant and hollow.
Jennie uneasily went on with her lament. ‘He was so kind and thoughtful. Such a wonderful, caring man.’
‘He never cared about me,’ Mary Ellen said shortly.
Astonished, both Kate and Jennie looked toward her.
‘He never, ever, listened to me,’ Mary Ellen said with deep, heartfelt resentment. ‘He never once considered what I wanted.’
‘How can you say that?’
Mary Ellen continued to glare at Jennie, like some defiant teenager. Jennie stared back, the kind aura slowly vanishing. Kate could feel the clash between them, strong and ugly, like the one between Ty and Hal Barkley.
Jennie slowly rose and in a hushed voice, said, ‘I’m going down to Charles’ study.’
Mary Ellen watched her leave. ‘Why would Uncle Charles marry someone like her?’ she moaned. ‘He objected to the man I loved, but he couldn’t hold a candle to her. He never once stepped out on me behind my back, the way Jennie Irwin did to my uncle.’
‘Was Jennie seeing someone besides Charles?’ Kate asked, not quite believing it, but at the same time thinking about finding Jennie in Hal Barkley’s arms. When Mary Ellen didn’t respond, Kate prompted, ‘Who is he? Do you know?’
‘I’m not sure. Why don’t you ask her?’ Without another word, Mary Ellen whirled around and fled from the kitchen.
In the study Kate found Jennie slumped dejectedly in the huge leather chair behind Kingsley’s desk.
‘Charles and I first met in this very room,’ she said. ‘Hal introduced us, and we both fell head over heels.’
Tears filled her eyes again. Either she was truly grieved, or a very good actress. Kate wanted to enquire about the possibility of some man other than Charles Kingsley in her life, but couldn’t bring herself to do so. Because of her own grief Mary Ellen had no doubt just been lashing out. Jennie seemed genuinely heartbroken; a sensitive woman, who had about her an air of innocence the shade of her rose-coloured lipstick.
Jennie looked around despairingly. ‘The robber must have thought Charles was still in Casper,’ she said. ‘No one would break into his house with him here.’
‘You’re probably right,’ Kate replied, then added, ‘that is, if it were his intention to rob the house.’
‘What else could it be?’ Jennie swung sideways in the swivel chair and faced Charles Kingsley’s Western collection. ‘There’s motive enough for theft right here in this very room. Do you have any idea what this collection is worth?’
‘Not actually. What do you think?’
‘A fortune, that’s what,’ Jennie exclaimed, ‘but worth more to me than anyone else. We spent many happy hours browsing antique shops, looking for treasures to add to his collection.’ Her grave gaze shifted to the wall. ‘That invitation to Tom Horn’s hanging was what he loved most. More than me, even,’ she added with a small smile. ‘It is priceless.’
Kate studied the handwritten invitation, in perfect condition except for a tiny crease mark in the far, left corner. The handwriting was smooth and flowing, as if the sheriff had given it his best. The tiny ink spot over the ‘i’ where the ink had run gave it a human touch.
‘It’s certainly one of a kind,’ Jennie told her. ‘Charles said that he knew people who would kill for it. Maybe he was right.’
From the unstable way the invitation was hanging, Kate wondered once again if the intruder had attempted to yank it from the wall. Nothing, Kate thought, would have prevented the robber from snatching it as he ran off. Then why hadn’t he taken it? Despite the fact that Kate couldn’t answer that question, the Tom Horn invitation had remained stuck in her mind from the very first time she had laid eyes on it.
Kate silently regarded this unusual relic. Yes, such a rare and valuable item could indeed be a motive for murder. One flaw, though, existed in that theory: the invitation to Tom Horn’s hanging still hung safe and sound on the wall behind Kingsley’s desk.
Chapter 3
Sheridan Wallace leaned back in his chair, his mild voice dying away and leaving only the sounds of traffic from the busy street below them. ‘I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.’
The attorney lacked both the force of the Rocking C’s foreman, Hal Barkley, and the vital energy that Kingsley must have possessed. In fact Kate wondered how this aged man with his pale, solemn face had been able to attract such a wealthy client.
The attorney spoke again in his quiet manner.
‘Charles called me late Thursday from Casper. He said he had some very urgent business that we needed to discuss. Of course I asked him what it concerned, and he told me that he had finally found enough proof to link Sam Swen with his missing cattle.’
‘But he didn’t tell you what evidence?’
‘I assumed it would consist of documents, perhaps involving brand tampering and cattle sales. Instead of bringing criminal charges though, I believe he wanted to pursue a civil suit against Swen. But those are only speculations. Unfortunately, I never found out. We spoke our last words to one another that Thursday evening.’
‘You have possession of his final will, don’t you?’ Kate asked.
‘Yes. I’ve already spoken to both Jennie Kingsley and Mary Ellen Kingsley.’ His thin lips stretched into the semblance of a smile. ‘There’s going to be none of those dramatic “reading of the will” scenes that you see on TV.’
‘Because he was murdered,’ Kate told him, ‘I need to know the provisions.’
‘Of course. About a month ago Charles Kingsley came into my office. He often made snap decisions and never gave them a second thought. He had made such a decision that day.’
‘Concerning his will, you mean?’
‘Charles said he wanted to leave everything, all of his real and personal property to Jennie, then Jennie Irwin. I asked him if it were his intention not to mention his niece. You know Mary Ellen is the last of the Kingsleys.’
‘What did he say?’
‘“We just don’t need any bookwork as far as Mary Ellen is concerned.” Those were his exact words. He stated that he intended to handle the finances between them himself.’ Wallace paused significantly. ‘I didn’t know about his marriage plans at the time, nor did he tell me.’ He gave another of his strained smiles. ‘I never make it a practice to interfere. I simply drew up the papers as he requested.’
‘Is the will solid?’
‘Now that Jennie Irwin has become Jennie Kingsley, it is very definitely solid. Of course, it would have been even had they not married. He was under no obligation to provide for his niece. It is clear that Charles did what he wanted to with his money. His competence is not in question.’
Kate wandered to the window and gazed down at Rock Creek’s old buildings, feeling for a moment the same jolt Mary Ellen must have felt upon hearing the news. ‘It’s hard to believe he left everything to Jennie. Why do you suppose he did that?’
‘I never met Jennie until she came into my office after Charles died. Still I could tell he was very much taken with her.’ Wallace hesitated, falling into a pensive silence. ‘I don’t want you to get the wrong idea of Charles,’ he said at last. ‘He was thoughtful and generous, perhaps to a fault.’
Kate watched the slow movement of the cars along the street. ‘Would Mr Kingsley have any special reason to disinherit his niece?’
Sheridan Wallace gave a short laugh, as dry as his smile had been, indicating that he found the idea of Mary Ellen’s displeasing anyone preposterous. ‘If you want my opinion, Charles intended to give Mary Ellen her inheritance at the same time that he married. Too bad he didn’t have the chance to carry out his plans.’
Kate turned back to him. ‘How did Mary Ellen take the news?’
‘It’s hard to tell with someone as private as Mary Ellen. And of course, there were my own feelings. I felt very sorry for her. After all, she has lived at the Rocking C almost all her life, and it did look as if Charles had done this out of pure spite – which, I assure you, wasn’t the case.’ He folded veined hands in front of him on the desk. ‘All in all, I’d say she took it well enough.’
Traffic from the street below encroached into the silent room, and with it an image of Mary Ellen and the resentful – almost vindictive – way she had faced Jennie at the ranch.
‘Mary Ellen said herself that her uncle owed her absolutely nothing, that she had already received her benefits.’ The lawyer went on, ‘You’ve heard the story about how Charles took her in, how he doted on her, giving in to her every wish.’
‘How old was Mary Ellen when her family died?’
‘I’m not sure, four or five, maybe. All I’m certain of is that it was very hard for him. Charles never had any children around, then here he was faced with the prospect of raising one all alone and a little girl to boot.’
‘He didn’t legally adopt her?’
‘No. No need to. Her mother’s family had not the least bit of interest in her so there was no one to contest her living with him.’
‘Do you know anything about Mary Ellen’s first love? The one Mr Kingsley refused to let her marry?’
‘I didn’t know him, don’t even recall Charles mentioning him by name, only …’ he added with a small, tight smile, ‘by tags. Which, doubtlessly, were right on the mark. But all of that was a long time ago, water under the bridge.’
‘I want to thank you, Mr Wallace, for talking to me today.’
After another of his solemn pauses, he said, ‘I’ll tell you just what I told Mary Ellen. I’m sure Charles didn’t intend to cut her off without a cent. From what I always believed, she was as dear to him as any daughter could be.’
Kate reached the door. ‘One more thing, what do you know about Mr Kingsley’s foreman, Hal Barkley?’
‘Very loyal,’ the attorney assured her. ‘Charles had implicit faith in him. It’s a good thing, now wouldn’t you say? Jennie Kingsley is certainly going to need his help.’
Kate returned to the Rocking C where she had left Lem sorting through Charles Kingsley’s papers. He didn’t bother to look up, but said in a disgruntled way, ‘We’re batting a zero all around.’
Kingsley’s desk was piled high with years and years of paperwork. Exact and orderly, Kingsley had kept perfect records. Kate scanned the carefully marked folders: Co-op, Pauley’s Auction, Krady’s Feed Store. Lem lifted one of them and without a word passed it across to her. This file, labelled neatly with a black marker, read Swen – Double S.
‘It’s empty.’
‘You don’t sound surprised. I thought a police academy gal like you would believe that all crimes leave paper trails.’
Ignoring the barb, Kate asked, ‘Have you gone through everything?’
‘Two more file drawers to go, but what you’ve got in your hand is all we’re going to find.’
‘I wonder why anyone would leave the folder and take the contents.’
‘Who knows?’
‘Have you searched through his vehicles?’
‘Nothing in them. And I asked Mrs Kingsley if he had shown her any of his personal records or if he had brought any of them with him to Casper. Both negative.’
A thorough search of the rest of the office brought the same result. Wearily, Kate rose from the chair she had drawn up beside Lem. She checked her watch: almost noon. She had time to visit Ben at the hospital before paying her respects at the cemetery.
‘Go on. I’ll stay here and put this place back together.’ Lem stood up, gathering folders. ‘I’m beginning to think the same as Jeff,’ he said, ‘that Swen’s our man.’
‘I thought you believed this was a simple robbery.’
‘It’s still a robbery. Swen broke in to steal the only record of Kingsley’s lawsuit.’ Lem words were followed by a long, accusing silence. ‘We should listen to Jeff more. Jeff’s usually right.’
Clearly Lem meant, ‘you should listen to Jeff more,’ not ‘we should.’ He had made this statement just to oppose her. That was obvious by the way his eyes narrowed, and the lines in his thin face tightened. Lem, not willing to discuss this any further, was openly defying her. Disappointed in him, feeling alone in her investigation, she turned away.
Lem’s words drifted after her as she crossed to the door. ‘Turning up empty-handed here gives us our biggest clue. Swen fought with Kingsley over the lawsuit, shot him, and destroyed the incriminating evidence.’
Kate left and headed for the hospital. Walking down the quiet corridor toward Sheriff Addison�
��s room, Kate recalled what Jeff had said to her at the office last Friday, before Ben became ill.
‘I’m busy working on my movie script,’ he had drawled. ‘Ever heard of that old TV show, “Jake and the Fat Man?” Well, I’m calling this one “Jeff and the Fat Man”.’
‘Very clever. If it hadn’t already been written.’
‘Not like this, it hasn’t.’ Jeff had laughed. ‘We’re not going to solve crimes. We’re just going to hang out at the doughnut shop.’
Jeff’s constant jibes often zeroed in on Ben’s weight problem, references like that one or his calling Sheriff Addison, ‘Sheriff Addapound’. Kate liked those remarks no more than she did his constant teasing about her fancy Criminal Justice degree, which as of late was occurring more often. At least Jeff didn’t discriminate: he resented anyone who had any kind of authority over him.
Ben tolerated the ribbing good-naturedly. True, Ben weighed in heavy, but in other ways too. A person could trust what he said – a fair man who didn’t play favourites or belong to the good old boy’s club.
Kate’s friend, affable as ever, sat up in bed his heavy face glowing with joy at seeing her.
‘You’re looking great,’ Kate placed the flowers beside his bed.
‘No candy?’ he asked with feigned disappointment. ‘Just as well. On top of everything, I’m having an ulcer flare-up. Doc’s taken me off coffee and everything else I like.’
‘But I’ve talked to your doctor,’ Kate said. ‘Instead of surgery he may only recommend a long rest. He thinks your symptoms are caused by stress and overwork.’
‘The long, tedious hours and the pressures of the job I hand over to you. Pull up a chair, Kate. Jeff told me all about your visit to Swen’s and what happened afterwards. But I want to hear it all from you.’
She told him, finishing by saying, ‘Whoever shot Kingsley drove that truck straight into the squad car.’
‘Jeff said it was registered to Swen’s Double S and that you had just left there. What does that tell you?’
‘Anyone familiar with the ranch would know they could take this pick-up without anyone paying much attention.’ She paused. ‘Actually, I think the truck was stolen so Swen would be blamed.’
Stone of Vengeance Page 4