Official Duty

by Doreen Roberts

Wetherby jumped as if scalded. Snatching the pipe from his mouth he spluttered, “I ain’t going into town, no way. If there’s anything you want to ask me, you can ask away right here.”

  “The van,” Cully said patiently. “Where did you see it?”

  Wetherby crammed the tobacco into the pipe’s bowl with his thumb. Ginny winced, wondering how he did that without scorching his skin.

  “Maybe I did see it near the Corbett house,” Wetherby muttered. “Parked under the trees, it was. I thought it was strange, but I didn’t go near it. I mind me own business. Live longer that way.”

  “Did you see who was driving it?”

  Ginny held her breath as the old man stuck the pipe in his mouth and puffed away for several agonizing seconds before answering. “Nope,” he said at last. “Couldn’t make out if’n there was anyone in it. Couldn’t see through them dark windows.”

  “How long was it parked there?”

  Wetherby shrugged. “Can’t really say. It was there when I walked down there to check my traps, and it was still there when I left.”

  “And when was this?”

  “This morning. Right about dawn, I reckon.”

  Cully stepped back. “Well, I’d be obliged if you keep an eye out for it. If you see it again, you give me a call, okay?”

  Wetherby nodded and reached for his shotgun. “Sure will, Sheriff.”

  Cully turned back to Ginny. “Okay, let’s go. We need to get back to town before that locksmith closes.”

  Ginny waved to the old man but he turned away without acknowledging her.

  “Don’t let him bother you too much,” Cully said, as they walked back to the Jeep. “He’s a little muddled in the head, and sees anyone connected to the Corbetts as a threat.”

  “That’s not a very comforting thought.”

  Cully opened the car door for her. “I still believe he’s harmless, but I wouldn’t come up here on your own until we get this thing settled.”

  Ginny shivered as she slid onto the seat. “Don’t worry, I have no intention of coming back here. I’ve put the house in Neil’s hands now, and he can deal with it. Once it’s sold, I’ll have nothing else to do with it.”

  He gave her a look she couldn’t interpret but didn’t comment on her remark. Instead he changed the subject and talked instead about his ranch in an effort, Ginny suspected, to get her mind off her problems.

  They reached town without incident and Cully parked in the recently built strip mall. “I have to run by the office,” he said, as Ginny climbed out. “It will only take a minute or two and by the time you’re done here I’ll be back. Just wait for me inside the shop, okay?”

  “Okay.” Ginny slammed the door shut and hurried across the parking lot to the little office that housed the locksmith. She felt vulnerable without Cully’s reassuring presence by her side. Vulnerable and lonely. Something she would have to get used to when this was over, she reminded herself grimly as she entered the stuffy little office.

  The man seated behind the desk raised his head. “Can I help you?”

  Quickly she told him what she wanted and waited while he fussed with the form he wanted her to fill out. When she was done she fished out her credit card from her purse. “I’ll pay you ahead of time,” she said when the locksmith looked surprised. “I don’t know how long I’ll be in town. The new keys will go to Neil Baumann. He’s selling the place.”

  The man took the card from her and finished the transaction. The whole thing only took about five minutes and Ginny wandered to the door to look out into the parking lot. There were no more than a dozen or so vehicles parked there and no sign of Cully’s red Cherokee.

  She could feel the locksmith’s gaze on her back, no doubt wondering why she didn’t leave. She didn’t want to tell him that Cully had asked her to stay in there until he got back. That would have raised more questions than it answered.

  Try as she might, she couldn’t think of anything to ask the man that would delay her leaving. Finally she gave up and opened the door, letting it close gently behind her.

  He’d said he would be back in a few minutes. She was standing in a strip mall, with people walking about. Not a very big mall and not that many people, true but surely enough that no one would try anything out there in broad daylight.

  Trying to feel reassured, she wandered down to the travel agent’s office and studied the posters of Europe and Hawaii in the window. Something reflected in the glass caught her attention. Certain that she was mistaken, she swung around to take a look.

  It was sitting just yards from where she stood. She couldn’t imagine why she hadn’t noticed it before. Maybe because it had been mostly hidden from the angle of the locksmith’s office.

  There was no mistaking the dented license plate, the gouged passenger door. It was the same gray minivan that had been following her. The same van that had almost run her off the road.

  Frantically she looked around for Cully’s Jeep. Where was he? He’d said a few minutes. He had to be there any minute. Maybe she should call him. The locksmith must have a phone. She’d call from there.

  She spun around to rush back to the locksmith’s office. As she did so, she caught sight of a familiar figure hurrying out of the beauty shop across the parking lot. It was Sally Irwin and she was heading toward her.

  Despite her urgency, Ginny didn’t want to ignore the woman. She was about to raise her hand and give her old friend a brief wave before diving into the locksmith’s office when Sally came to an abrupt stop.

  Ginny froze, unable to believe her eyes as Sally calmly unlocked the door of the gray minivan and climbed into the driver’s seat. Stunned, she could only stand and watch as her longtime friend and former soul mate drove past her in the van that just that morning had almost sent her and Cully to their deaths.

  Chapter Twelve

  In his office, Cully was trying to make sense of the information he’d just been given by the FAA investigator on the phone with him. All along it had been thought that Brandon Pierce had been alone in the plane when it crashed. Now it seemed that someone else could have been in there with him.

  “If the body in the plane was burned beyond recognition,” Cully asked, “how did you identify Brandon Pierce?”

  “The county sheriff’s department was responsible for that.” The clipped voice paused, then added, “Hold on, I have the report here somewhere.” Again Cully waited and finally, the investigator returned. “Yeah, here it is. Looks like they just assumed the identity.”

  “No matching of dental records or DNA?”

  “Nope. A plane crashed and burned, solo pilot, single remains found on board, records showed Pierce was the pilot. Unless there is evidence of a crime scene and in the absence of a missing person’s report, a rural investigation would probably rest on the assumption of identity, since there was nothing to indicate otherwise. The body was burned in the fire, so no one could visually identify it. I guess they’ll change their minds now and do a proper investigation.”

  “So all they had was the ring and the watch to go on.”

  There was a long pause, then the voice said carefully, “There’s no mention here of a ring or a watch. Just what was left of a watch, that’s all.”

  Cully frowned. “Wait a minute. Are you telling me they didn’t find a wedding ring or an engraved watch in the wreckage? Are you real sure about that?”

  “Positive. I took down the report myself. Not much survived the fire. What little was left would have been listed here in the report.”

  Cully thanked him and hung up. He could hear Ginny’s voice clear in his mind. He told Jim that Brandon was dead and that all that was left of his belongings were his wedding ring and the watch I’d given him for an anniversary gift. My name was on the back of it.

  If the ring or the watch hadn’t been found in the wreck, how would an investigator know about them? He wouldn’t, which meant that the man who called the Corbetts wasn’t an investigator. He was the killer. He must have taken the
ring and watch off Brandon Pierce before setting fire to the plane. That’s how he’d made the connection to Ginny. Her name on the back of a watch. They weren’t dealing with an amateur, that was for sure.

  A few minutes later, Cully pulled into the strip mall and spotted Ginny right away. She stood on the edge of the sidewalk, staring across the parking lot as if she’d seen the ghost of Ben Wetherby’s dead dog.

  Annoyed with her for ignoring his demands that she stay put until he got back, he parked in the space right next to where she stood, cut the engine and swung himself out of the Jeep. “I thought I told you—” He got a good look at her face then and broke off. “What’s the matter? What happened?”

  She turned to him, her voice hushed with shock. “Sally. She was driving the minivan. The one that tried to run us off the road.”

  Disbelief rippled through him. “Are you sure? Sally Irwin? You’re sure it’s the same van?” He paused, struggling to absorb this latest surprise. “Wait a minute. Sally was driving her blue Mazda. I saw it today outside the Red Steer.”

  “It was Sally.” Ginny looked as if she were about to burst into tears. “She got into the van and drove it away. I saw her. She was over there.” Her hand shook as she pointed across the parking lot.

  “And you’re quite sure it’s the same van?”

  “Yes. I saw the dented license plate. I’d know that van anywhere. It’s the same one, Cully. I can’t believe it. Why would Sally want to hurt me?”

  “I don’t know,” Cully said grimly, “but I’m sure as hell going to find out.” He looked at his watch. “She’s probably on her way back to the Red Steer. Let’s go ask her. Though if she did try to run us off the road, I can’t believe she’d be driving the van around town for everyone to see.”

  “It was the same van, Cully. You’ve got to believe me.”

  She had ahold of his sleeve and all the common sense in the world couldn’t stop him from putting his arm around her. “Come on,” he said gently. “We’ll stop by the office and call Lyla, tell her to put dinner on hold, and then we’ll go to the Red Steer, have a beer or two, and find out exactly what Sally has been up to, okay?”

  She nodded, her eyes so trusting and full of fear, his heart twisted inside of him. Just let him get his hands on whoever was doing this to her and he’d come down so hard the bastard would wish he’d never been born. Or she. Cully heaved a sigh. He just couldn’t believe that Sally was involved in all this. Especially in view of the report he’d just received.

  Deciding to keep that information to himself for the time being, he drove back to his office and put in the call to Lyla.

  The housekeeper was disappointed that she’d miss seeing Ginny. “I was planning on leaving early,” she told him. “My granddaughter is in her school play tonight. I promised her I’d be there.”

  “That’s okay,” Cully assured her. “You go ahead. Ginny and I can grab a bite to eat at the Red Steer.”

  “You’re sure? I’ve put Ginny’s things in the blue room. If she needs anything else…”

  “Quit worrying, will you? I’ll take care of everything. You just go and enjoy your granddaughter’s big moment.” He replaced the receiver and glanced at Ginny. She sat staring at a map on the wall above his desk, though he was quite sure she didn’t see a thing on it. “Looks like it’s steak at the Steer again tonight,” he said. “Lyla’s got an important date.”

  She looked at him as if she hadn’t heard a word he’d said. The urge hit him so hard and so fast he was helpless to resist. He rounded the desk and hauled her against him. “Listen to me,” he said fiercely. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. I’ll make sure of that. You have to trust me, okay?”

  “I do trust you.”

  The whisper had barely left her lips before he covered them with his own. She clung to him and he closed his arms around her, his body responding at once to the firm pressure of her breasts against his chest.

  Ever since he’d kissed her in the Corbett house, he’d longed to do it again. Man, how he wanted her. He wanted to take her right now back to the ranch, throw her on his bed and bury himself in her tempting body. He kissed her as he’d never kissed anyone before—hot, searching kisses that she returned with an urgency that matched his own.

  She was all passion in his arms, thrusting against him as if she couldn’t get close enough to satisfy her. There were too many clothes in the way. He wanted to rip them all off, to feel once again the soft, smooth touch of her bare flesh against his.

  He reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it free from her jeans. Eagerly she helped him, her own hands tugging at his shirt. Heat raced through his veins to pound in his head, chasing away all doubt, all common sense.

  Then, unbelievably, the shrill peal of the phone shattered the moment. Ginny jumped back, one hand covering her mouth as she backed away from him. He gave her one last desperate look then reached for the phone.

  “Sheriff? It’s Jed. We got trouble on the mountain. It’s Ben Wetherby. He’s been shot.”

  Still dazed, Cully blinked hard. “He’s dead?”

  “Close to. He’s in the hospital in Rapid City. In a coma. Doc says he doesn’t know if he’ll make it.”

  “Did he say anything?”

  “Nope. Neil Baumann found him when he went up to look around the Corbett house. Ben was lying unconscious in the front yard. Took a while to get an ambulance out there to pick him up. Crime lab’s out there now.”

  Cully rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes. “All right, let me know if they find anything. And stay by Ben’s side. If he wakes up, try to get as much out of him as possible. Then call me. I’ll either be in the Red Steer or at home.”

  “Will do.” Jed paused then added, “What’s going on, Cully? Have we got a serial killer on the loose in Gold Peak?”

  “I sure as hell hope not. I think Ben might have seen more than was healthy for him. Let’s just hope he wakes up and can tell us what went down.”

  Cully hung up the phone and turned to Ginny.

  She stared at him, white-faced, her hands clutching her upper arms. “What?”

  “Ben Wetherby.” He could see no way to spare her this. “He’s been shot.”

  “Oh, no.” She covered her face with her hands. “How many more before this is over? It’s all my fault. I should never have come back here.”

  “Hey, don’t talk like that.” He grabbed her shoulders and gave her a little shake. “We’re in this together now, you hear me?”

  Her lovely eyes were troubled as she looked up at him. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. Or anyone else. Maybe I should just leave and go back to Philadelphia.”

  “You think you’ll be any safer there?” He reached for his hat and crammed it on his head. “Forget it, Ginny. You’re not leaving my sight until we figure out how to find this nutcase and put a stop to all this.” He took hold of her arm and led her unresisting to the door. “The first place we’re going is to the Steer and talk to Sally.”

  “You don’t think—”

  “No, I don’t.” No matter how bad it looked, he couldn’t picture Sally Irwin as a cold-blooded killer. “I’m just hoping she can help us figure out what’s going on.”

  Ten minutes later they pulled up outside the Red Steer. As Cully cut the engine, he heard Ginny gasp. Following her gaze he saw what had caught her attention. A dusty, battered gray minivan with tinted windows. If it wasn’t the van that had battled them on the mountain then it was its twin.

  He pulled in a deep breath. “Try to act as normal as possible,” he warned Ginny as they walked side by side toward the doors of the tavern. “We don’t want to tip off Sally before I’m ready to ask the questions.”

  “I’ll try.” Ginny looked defeated, as if she’d given up on everybody and everything.

  “Hang in there, sunshine,” he told her. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, I promise.”

  That raised a faint smile. “I’d forgotten you used to call me that.”
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  He hadn’t forgotten. He could still remember how he’d felt whenever she’d walked into a room. As if the sun had lit up the whole place. The aching memory made him wince.

  They reached the doors and he held one open for her to enter. The usual babble of raised voices, strident laughter and the thudding beat of country music greeted them as he followed her into the crowded room. This was the Steer’s busiest time, when weary workers dropped in to relax over a beer before making their way home at the end of a long day.

  Sally bounced around behind the bar, taking orders and exchanging friendly barbs with the customers. Cully sat Ginny down at an empty table and then made his way toward the thirsty group leaning against the bar, all anxious to get their hands around a cold beer.

  He caught Sally’s eye and within a minute or two she paused in front of him. “Nice to see you, Sheriff. What’ll it be?”

  He ordered a beer and a glass of wine then added, “Can you give me a minute or two over there?” He jerked his thumb to where Ginny sat anxiously watching him.

  Sally followed his gaze. “Sure. Soon as I get a chance. What’s up?” Her eyes widened in apprehension. “Not one of my kids, is it?”

  Cully shook his head. “Nothing like that, so you can quit worrying about them.”

  She looked relieved. “Thank God. I’ve got good baby-sitters, but you never know these days. I’ll be over as soon as Wally can manage on his own.” She tilted her head at the bartender busily filling glasses at the end of the bar. “I want to talk to you, anyway, Sheriff. I wanna report a robbery.”

  “Hey, Sally,” someone yelled. “How much longer are you gonna keep us waiting?”

  Sally grimaced. “Better go. I’ll get over there as soon as I can.”

  Cully picked up the drinks and carried them back to the table where Ginny sat with her elbows on the table, her chin in her hands. “Sally’ll be over in a minute,” he told her as he placed the glass of wine in front of her. “We’ll order dinner then.”

  “I’m not hungry.” She reached for her wine and took a hefty sip of it.