Stone of Vengeance

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Stone of Vengeance Page 12

by Vickie Britton


  ‘I’m looking for Hal Barkley. Do you know where I can find him?’

  ‘He headed home. Said he’d be tied up there this morning. Say, I’m about to stop for a coffee break, won’t you join me?’

  ‘Coffee sounds good.’

  Jennie slanted a concerned glance toward Kate. ‘I heard about what happened to you. I’m sorry. I can’t believe there’s people like that in this world. But Hal told me he was up against a mean bunch.’

  Sunlight flashed across Jennie’s earrings, tiny golden horseshoes dotted with diamonds.

  ‘I like your earrings,’ Kate said.

  Jennie smiled. ‘Charles bought me these. I love earrings, but I’ve never had the guts to get my ears pierced, so they’re the clip-on kind. I’m always afraid of losing them.’

  Anyone who would wear those, Kate thought, would be sure to like the earring with the Indian design found in Swen’s truck. ‘I see you have a necklace to match.’

  As Jennie proudly showed off the large silver horseshoe that hung from her neck, Kate knew she had been right in not mentioning the lost earring. A great possibility existed that the owner would not know where she had lost it and would someday, if it belonged to a set, wear the matching necklace.

  Once inside, braced by strong hot coffee, Kate remarked, ‘I ran across Mary Ellen in town today. She looked … different.’

  ‘I saw her leaving. It’s weird,’ Jennie said. ‘She says she’s staying here for a while longer. But I don’t know why. I actually think the girl hates me.’

  ‘Hates you?’ Kate echoed. ‘Probably she’s just jealous. No doubt she wants to be popular the way you’ve always been.’

  ‘She could be if she’d get rid of that scowl. She needs to get out, mix with people.’

  Kate thought of the museum curator. ‘I think she’s dating someone now.’

  ‘No, I doubt it. Charles used to say she’d dress up and stay away for long periods of time, just to make him worry about her. It’s crazy the way she won’t let go of the past. This animosity of hers has to do with Charles and springs from that drifter she loved so long ago and didn’t get to marry.’

  Jennie took a long drink and set the mug aside. ‘Or maybe the answer is just plain weirdness. Do you know Mary Ellen was bent on breaking up every woman Charles even considered marrying? Why, you should have heard the terrible lies she started about Anna Marks. Mary Ellen finally succeeded in breaking them up. That’s why Charles never even told her about us.’

  ‘I can’t imagine why you would ask her to stay on here then.’

  ‘Ask her? I just don’t want to toss her out, that’s all. With so much room and money, that would be so heartless. But all she does is sulk around and spy on me. I wish she would leave. The sooner the better.’

  Kate thought of the meeting at the museum, of Mary Ellen’s words so contradictory to what Jennie was telling her now. She wasn’t sure which one of them to believe.

  Kate finished her coffee. ‘I heard Mary Ellen telling Jake Pierson at the museum that you’re planning to sell some of your late husband’s Western memorabilia.’

  ‘She’s mistaken, then,’ Jennie said, lips tightening in exasperation. ‘Every item in that collection means as much to me as it did to Charles. I intend to take it all with me to my grave.’

  Her choice of words under the circumstance caused Kate to cringe a little.

  Kate studied her. Either Mary Ellen or Jennie was lying, but which one? Kate reminded herself that Jennie, a woman of the world, might be accustomed to relying on her sweet face, her innocent blue eyes to profit by being convincing.

  Kate asked at last, ‘Are you keeping Hal Barkley on as foreman?’

  ‘Of course. Why on earth wouldn’t I? Hal’s a dear, takes all the burden from my shoulders.’

  ‘But you know all about the cattle rustling that’s been going on. Don’t you have any doubts about Barkley?’

  ‘No, Hal was Charles’ right-hand man. Charles thought the world of him and vice-versa. Charles always maintained that Swen was behind this, but I never believed that either. Might be some outfit from far off, just zeroing in on the two wealthiest ranches in the area.’

  ‘What do you know about a rodeo rider named Slim Barton?’

  ‘I remember him, from a long time ago. Slim won prize after prize, but that was back in my Rodeo Queen days. In fact, Charles hired him occasionally, when Slim fell on hard times. The rodeo life is a short-lived one. When Slim got washed up on the circuit, he started drinking, heard he even served some time in prison. But I think he’s trying to go straight. Slim has his own ranch about fifty miles south of here, near Colorado.’ Jennie stopped, breathless, ‘Why are you asking about him?’

  Kate’s reply was lost to the opening of the front door. Jennie and she listened to the clank of high heels as they neared the kitchen.

  Mary Ellen, looking chic and modern, poked her head into the room, beaming at Jennie. ‘How do you like my new outfit?’ She flashed Jennie a saccharine smile. ‘Just like the ones you wear.’ She stepped inside, giving a little whirl. ‘Thanks to you, I’m learning how to dress.’

  Jennie’s lips parted in surprise.

  ‘I’ll get changed now,’ Mary Ellen sing-songed in a voice as chic as her new clothing, ‘so I can help with dinner.’

  They listened to Mary Ellen’s steps ascending the stairs to her room.

  Jennie shook her head, the movement causing light to reflect against her blond curls. ‘Help with dinner? That girl lazes around here most of the day expecting me to wait on her. To top it off, that’s the first pleasant words she’s spoken to me since I moved in.’

  Jennie sank into a pensive silence before she continued. ‘And that last remark about buying clothes like mine. She’s made all those purchases just to get back at me, probably heard what I said about her the other day. I know what Charles meant now about how ugly and brooding that girl can be. Really, Kate, I can’t wait to see the last of her.’

  More puzzled than before, Kate left the Rocking C and turned down the road that would take her to Hal Barkley’s home. Even though she knew she shouldn’t risk confronting Barkley alone, she drove in an obsessed way, as if she were powerless to do otherwise.

  Who to trust and who not to? If she believed Swen, Barkley had a reputation for drinking and for double-dealing, which led her to Slim Barton, the shady character she had met in the tavern, who could well be working with Kingsley’s foreman to rustle cattle.

  Barkley’s house bore a look of neglect, the peeled white paint, the crumbling steps and rotting boards on the porch.

  Kate skimmed the yard, a jumble of old equipment and outbuildings. The area to the side of the barn looked like a graveyard for old vehicles. A battered cattle-truck, too small to be the one she had seen the night of the cattle rustling, was parked close to a sway-backed shed.

  Kate cautiously approached the door, stillness answering her knock. She waited, an eerie sensation of being watched steeling over her. Kate pounded on the door again, certain that someone stood inside, silently waiting, refusing to answer. Kate stepped back, glancing up towards the dark, upstairs windows. All remained hushed and motionless.

  Kate thought about pushing open the door, but she did not. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t risk entering Barkley’s house without a search warrant. Kate paused uncertainly, then headed back to her car.

  A low, ominous voice, one that seemed to come from nowhere, caused her to stop. ‘What are you doing here?’

  Kate whirled around to see Slim Barton emerging from behind an old brown Chevy. The small, wiry man moved quickly toward her, blond hair stringing raggedly around his thin face. He looked even more evil than he had in the dim light of the Lazy Z tavern.

  Kate, with sinking heart aware of the isolation, stood her ground. ‘I didn’t expect to find you here,’ she said evenly, as if trying to convince him or herself that she had nothing to fear.

  Kate expected hostility, but Barton seemed to be making a grud
ging effort to be friendly. ‘Me? I drove all the way out here to look at that old boat motor Hal has for sale.’ He shrugged. ‘Should’ve known it’d be a wasted trip. Hal ain’t ever here.’ His thin lips stretched, but fell short of a smile. ‘Or if he is, he’s not answering the door.’

  ‘Do you know where he might be?’

  Sullenness crept back into Slim’s voice. ‘How would I know? Do I look like his mother? He’s probably down at the bar.’

  Feeling uneasy even though no threat had been made, Kate lost no time getting into her Landcruiser and leaving Barkley’s property. Slim Barton’s cold eyes remained on her as if from behind the sights of a gun.

  Intending to connect with the road that would lead her back past Swen’s ranch, Kate turned north. She had just stopped at a crossroads when what she saw blotted out all thoughts of Slim Barton. She waited, clutching the wheel. Just ahead of her a pick-up truck, eggshell blue, was passing under the Double S sign. She got a flash of blonde hair and caught a clear glimpse of the silver Rocking C marking on the side.

  Why was Jennie Kingsley going to Swen’s ranch? Answers swarmed around her. Swen and Jennie could have plotted this all along intending to end up with all of Charles Kingsley’s estate.

  Kate drove closer, pulling to a stop behind a shield of trees.

  If Jennie and Swen married, Swen would be in control of not only the Double S, but also of his sworn enemy’s ranch, the Rocking C. That would not only make him the richest rancher in Wyoming, but would also satisfy any desire the man might have had for vengeance.

  But that wouldn’t be the only possibility, Kate reminded herself. Jennie could be working on her own or working with Barkley or Slim. Her next step could be to marry Swen, who had dated her in the past and was probably already half-smitten with her. Maybe in the end she intended to kill Sam Swen too, and own the whole valley herself.

  Kate peered through the branches at the old colonial-style mansion so much like Kingsley’s. Swen himself, silver-haired broad shouldered, answered the door. Jennie, in a happy familiar way slipped past him into the house.

  A calculating gold-digger, is that what she was? Had she married Charles Kingsley for his money, then shot him in cold blood? Swen might need more protection from Jennie than from the cattle rustlers, who could also be working for her. Kate thought of Charles Kingsley, lying dead in his study and of the vast fortune that had overnight become Jennie’s. She thought of the stone that had been placed purposefully under Kingsley’s head as if its very presence served some mocking, sinister purpose.

  Whether Jennie was working alone or with someone else, it was beginning to look as if Kate had been on the wrong track today. Instead of checking out Hal Barkley, she should have been focusing instead on Kingsley’s new widow.

  Forgetting her injury, Kate rolled over on her side to answer the phone. ‘Kate Jepp.’

  ‘Good Morning, Kate.’

  She immediately recognized Ty’s voice. More aware now of the catch in her breath rather than of the pain in her arm, she replied hesitantly. ‘Ty, I’ve been meaning to call you. To thank you for … for everything. I loved the flowers.’

  ‘I knew you would. How are you feeling?’

  Again she paused, then said not too truthfully, ‘Back to normal.’

  ‘Good.’ Ty’s tone seemed to change mid-word, to become very serious. ‘I must see you today, Kate. It’s extremely important. Could you drive out to Swen’s stables? You know where they are, don’t you? At the very end of the Double S land.’

  Doubts assailed her, but before she could reply, Ty said, ‘I’ll expect you there by ten-thirty.’

  Ty had hung up much too abruptly. Something must be wrong or else he had new information he intended to share with her. Kate hurriedly showered then rummaged through her clothes for a warm sweater and ran a brush through her tousled, dark hair. Kate knew she should not meet with Ty since Jeff had taken her off the case. She put aside her qualms. This meeting might turn out to be very important.

  Kate was pleased to find the air outside warm and mellow. The haze of Indian summer hovered across the pastures, inflamed the trees along the draws with the brilliant colours of glowing fire. She drove past Swen’s ranch then on for mile after mile. His stables were part of a complex of steel buildings and sprawling bunkhouses, all enclosed by a white fence and a sign that read Double S.

  Ty, inside a corral, was attempting to rein in a very ornery looking horse that resisted like some balky old mule. ‘Over here,’ he called.

  The horse, like in truce, temporarily stopped his battle then began stamping as if he were not satisfied with her slow advance.

  ‘Kate, this is Drifter.’ The horse made a snorting noise and shook his head: a wild-looking creature, big-boned heavy and grey, definitely not the sleek white Arabian horse she had pictured for Ty.

  Kate reached out to pat the animal’s rough, unattractive head.

  ‘Careful. He doesn’t like anyone but me. And not even me most of the time.’

  ‘Where did you find him? Not in Arabia, I’m sure.’

  Ty laughed. ‘Actually I adopted him from the BLM wild horse program. We’re just alike, us two. Most of the time he runs free, but once in a while we hang out together.’

  ‘What did you want to talk to me about?’

  Ty did not answer at once, almost as if he had some particular reason to delay. ‘I thought we’d go for a horseback ride first. Would that be okay with you?’

  Kate should say no; riding through the canyon with Ty was not part of her job description, but she brushed aside her doubts, smiled, and replied, ‘I’m not riding Drifter.’

  ‘I have the perfect one for you.’ Ty dropped Drifter’s reins and sorted out a gentle little mare. ‘Her name’s Chestnut. She’ll love you.’

  Kate watched as he saddled the horse he had chosen for her. An improvement over Drifter, with coat pretty and glistening.

  ‘Need help?’

  ‘No.’ Kate reached for the saddle-horn, placed a foot in the stirrup, and pulled herself up.

  ‘A pro,’ Ty said.

  Chestnut moved from the corral without any prompting. Ty struggled getting Drifter through the gate, then he stopped to latch it behind him. He swung up on the saddle, Drifter reacting with an irritable dance step. ‘Follow me,’ he said. ‘We’ll head up that high slope and down to the creek.’

  Kate liked trailing after him, liked to watch his straight form, his natural poise against the jostling upward steps.

  ‘In May this hill is bright red with Indian Paint Brush,’ he said over his shoulder.

  The lull of the jogging saddle, the fresh air around her, made Kate momentarily forget the continual trouble that had plagued her. Something healing about the high desert, she thought and felt almost happy. ‘Ty, look at that? Goldenrod everywhere.’

  ‘My favourite.’

  The tall, graceful stems made her think of the vase of flowers she had taken home from the hospital and placed beside her bed, flowers Ty had gathered, arranged and brought just for her.

  The sun began to make itself felt as they started down the sharp descent into another wide valley, this one dotted with mottled grey rocks and sage.

  ‘The sky is so blue here,’ Kate said. Many artists must have tried to paint this landscape, to capture the exact hue of a Wyoming sky feathered with clouds. She imagined most of them had given up in frustration.

  ‘Hard to believe it will soon be winter,’ Ty said.

  ‘I dread the snow.’

  ‘Mustn’t do that. Winter’s beautiful, too. The sun shining across white fields somehow lifts the spirits, gives you the heart to brave the cold.’

  She could grow very fond of Wyoming, even think about making it her permanent home. Yet if she lost her job – because of actions like this one – her family would pressure her to return to Michigan.

  ‘There it is, Rock Creek. Here’s where we stop.’

  Ty dismounted near the tall pines in the draw, came back to her an
d lifted her down. Once her feet were on solid ground, she thought again of the reason she was out here. ‘Is this where we talk?’

  ‘Yes it is.’

  ‘What did you find out? What do you want to tell me?’

  Ty did not let go of her, but drew her close. She could feel his muscular body pressed against hers, his strong arms holding her tightly. ‘What I have to tell you is very important, Kate,’ he said against her hair. ‘The most important thing that I’ve ever said. I can’t stop thinking about you.’ He held her away from him for a moment, smiling into her eyes, sunshine falling across his handsome, rugged face. ‘This is a very serious sign. I don’t know, but I think it might be the first symptom of falling in love.’

  Kate was too surprised to answer, but she didn’t have to. Ty’s arms encircled her again and this time he kissed her. His lips, gentle yet exciting, caused in her an unexpected response. She felt giddy, exuberant, like some teenager experiencing first love.

  ‘We’re not far from where we were Sunday night,’ Ty told her. ‘If you want me to, I’ll show you the place where the rustlers cut our fence.’ Ty glanced back at the horses contentedly grazing in the shade of a huge cottonwood. ‘I think it would be easier to just walk from here.’

  Ty caught her hand as they set off following the creek, which did not absorb the sunlight, but looked still and murky. They became surrounded by tangles of thick underbrush and twisted branches that rose from out of the muddy, shallow water. Although they were only a few miles from Swen’s stables, Kate felt as if she had entered some alien land.

  ‘How long have you known Hal Barkley?’ Kate asked him.

  ‘He has worked for Kingsley for some time, on and off. About two years ago Kingsley made him foreman.’

  ‘And you’ve fought … often?’

  ‘He hates Swen with a passion. Sometimes I have to step in and shut him up.’

  That accounted for their fight; Barkley had come to Swen’s, cursing, belligerent, probably even drunk. Of course Ty had intervened. Neither he nor Swen would be ones to call the sheriff’s office instead of handling the situation themselves.

 

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