by Bo Drury
“Let's go.” Scott headed for the jeep.
Scott drove off before Harry could get settled into his seat. “I want to hear what the sheriff has to say about it. If it was my mother, the sheriff should have known. He has been a friend of the family as long as I can remember,” Scott yelled against the wind as he sped down the winding road, kicking up a trail of dust behind them.
Screeching to a stop at the courthouse, Scott leaped from the jeep and strode quickly toward the sheriff's office.
“Scott, slow down. Think what you are going to say. Let me do the talking,” he added seeing how wrought up Scott was.
All heads turned in their direction when they entered. They appeared to have interrupted a serious confab. Stepping forward with outstretched hand, Harry introduced himself, which resulted in the usual smirks, smiles, and comments about his name. He laughed with them, then explained he was a PI from San Angelo looking into the disappearance of a woman and wanted to inquire about the Jane Doe they had a few weeks back. Had she ever been identified? He pulled out his identification and showed it around to confirm he was legit. They studied it, then looked at Scott.
“He's a friend of mine,” he explained. “I told him about the Jane doe when I heard he was looking for someone.” Quick thinking, Scott, Harry thought and nodded.
“No, she's still on ice at the morgue.”
“We'd like to take a look.”
The deputy called ahead and let the morgue know they were coming over.
“Is the sheriff around?”
“No, he's in San Antonio for a few days.”
“Thanks, boys,” Scott said as they left the building and headed for the morgue.
“I hope it's not her,” he said with emotion.
Pulling up in front of the squat medical building, Harry hoped for Scott's sake that it wasn't his mother. If it was...there was gonna be hell to pay by someone. What a mess this was turning into.
Harry hated the medicinal smell that met them as they entered the foyer. They were met by a young man in white scrubs with socked feet that led them to the back of the building and through swinging doors into a room cold enough to freeze your breath. Shivering, they waited for the attendant to pull Jane Doe into view.
It looked like the woman in the photograph, older but unmistakably the same features. Scott seemed numb with shock. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her.
The attendant cleared his throat. “Is this the woman you were looking for?”
“Yes,” Scott whispered.
“You will need to fill out some papers to claim the body,” the young man explained sympathetically.
“Scott...” Harry took him by the arm and led him from the room toward the front of the building. Once there, they were led into an office to take a seat and wait for the forms to fill out. Harry was at a loss for words. What a shock for Scott, to find the mother he thought was dead years ago, died only a few weeks ago, and had been to the house before she died. How was Jeb going to explain that?
That old saying, “What a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive...” holds true in this case, he thought.
“I'll send a copy of this over to the sheriff's office,” the attendant said.
“How did she die?” Scott questioned.
“She was strangled. It's still under investigation, but so far they have few clues to go on.” Realizing he was talking out of turn, he clammed up, adding only, “You will have to ask the sheriff about the particulars. That's all I know. I will have to get it okayed by the sheriff's office before you can remove the body.”
“We'll be in touch,” Harry told him as he motioned for Scott to follow him out. Once outside he turned to him. “Scott, I can't tell you how sorry I am about this. I know what a shock it is for you. Let's get a cup of coffee and decide what to do next.”
If the sheriff was covering this up, they would have to contact the Rangers and get them involved...
If something has happened to Marie as well... How deep does this go?
They needed to go back to the deputy and tell him they had identified her, and see what he could tell them. This was going to have a far reaching impact on the Stockton family. The gossip mongers would be right on top of it—a murder in the big ranching family.
Scott was ready to go home and confront his uncle. Harry could think of no reason to stop him. He hoped Marie would be there when they arrived.
Picking up a cup of coffee at the local drive-in, they drove to the ranch, each one lost in deep thought. Harry wanted to be there when Scott faced Jeb for two reasons: to see his reaction and also be sure there was no violence. Jeb seemed to be pretty volatile when angered.
Jeb was at poolside on the phone when they went in. He motioned to them and went on with his conversation as they waited. Harry sat down; Scott paced back and forth. Jeb noticed finally that Scott was pretty strung out and got off the phone.
“What's up, boys?” he asked, reaching for his drink on the table. As he lifted it, Scott slapped it from his hand, splattering the drink all over him.
“What the hell are you doing? You stupid...” Scott dove for him as Jeb started up out of his seat. Before Harry could react, Scott had Jeb on the concrete. Harry pulled him off the older man, who was looking at the sobbing Scott in disbelief.
Getting to his feet, Jeb snarled, “What's got into you? Have you lost your damn mind?” Anger replaced the shock of the attack.
“Did you kill my mother?” Scott yelled, turning on him again. Harry grabbed him.
Jeb shrank back, wide-eyed. Struggling for composure, he sputtered, “Your mother...where did you get such an idea?” Then he looked accusingly at Harry, who shook his head.
“She's lying down there in the morgue, Uncle. I know she came here before she died. Why? Why didn't I see her? What did you do to her?” he asked through gritted teeth, clenching and unclenching his fists. He jerked away from Harry and slung himself down in a chair, dropping his head between his knees.
Jeb said nothing. He sat back down, staring at his nephew. Finally, he calmly asked, “Who told you this nonsense?”
“I saw her myself.”
“How would you know what your mother looked like? She's been gone for twenty years, for God's sake. You were a baby when she left. I don't know who you saw, but it wasn't your mother.” He bluffed, assuming he was in total control.
Harry saw the hesitation in Scott as he shot back, “It was the same as her photograph,” he insisted.
“Huh? There are probably hundreds of women out there who look like that photograph. She wasn't more than eighteen or nineteen in that picture, and you are accusing me—me, your uncle who raised you—of killing my own sister? I can't believe this.” He got up from his chair and stalked toward the house.
Scott looked to Harry for some support. Jeb had gotten his bluff in.
“Don't let him buffalo you, Scott. The facts are there and we have Marie to back us on this. They can do a DNA and prove the relationship. He won't get away with it.” At least he hoped they had Marie to back them up. He hadn't had an opportunity to check on her yet.
They could see Jeb through the window at the bar mixing a drink. Harry figured he probably was in dire need of one after what had just happened. He may think he has talked himself out of this situation but he is sadly mistaken.
“I think I will put in a call to my friend with the Texas Rangers. We may need a little backup.” As he sat there, he noticed a smattering of peanut hulls scattered on the concrete near the pool. Now where did those come from? Turning his attention back to the man who hired him for this job, he wondered if Jeb would ask him to leave. He was probably fired already, but he was seeing this through to the end, paycheck or not.
Marie was no place to be found; no one had seen her. Harry was really worried now. He put in a call to his friend Max Hilliard in Laredo and told him the situation. Max told him when he felt it was time to come, to give him a call—he would be there.
Next, he
and Scott drove back to see the deputy, Josh Turner, at the sheriff's office. They went over what Marie had told Harry that night. The officer took notes and said he needed to talk to Marie. They told him they couldn't find her. He said there was nothing he could do until he talked to her. He couldn't charge anyone with anything without proof. And there would have to be more evidence than that to accuse Jeb Stockton of anything.
Scott asked about the DNA test and learned it could be done, but the sheriff would have to order it; he was still out of town and wouldn't be back for a couple of days, although Josh promised to contact him and see if there was anything he could do until then. They would have to wait.
Harry felt uneasy about the situation. Everything seemed to be going in slow motion. Here they had a murder and two women missing and they could do nothing. They needed to contact the funeral home and move Rebecca from the morgue, but even that had to be ordered by the sheriff. All they could do was go home and wait.
Neither one of them wanted to see Jeb. Harry decided to pick up his car and get a room at the motel. Although it was only sixty miles to San Angelo, he wanted to be close by in case Scott needed him. They ate at the restaurant and got him a room before heading back to the ranch.
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Chapter 6
When they got to the ranch, a sheriff's car was out front. Wondering what was up, they went inside to find Jeb talking to Josh and a plain clothes cop from San Angelo. Evidently, the deputy put some stock into what they had told him. But why the cop from San Angelo?
“What's going on?” Scott asked as they entered. Josh stood and introduced his companion. “This is Bob Keys from San Angelo.”
Harry shook his hand, saying, “Yes, Bob and I go way back. How are you, Bob?” The question in his voice asked what he was doing there.
“Josh and I are friends; I just happened by and rode out with him. What are you doing here?”
“Looking into something for Scott.”
“Mr. Stockton called us out; he is concerned the young woman who works for him is missing. Do either of you have any ideas on this?”
They both looked at Jeb. Wearing a satisfied smirk on his face, he rolled a fat cigar in his mouth as he leaned back and relaxed at the bar.
“When was the last time either of you remember seeing her?”
Scott said he would have to think about it, he didn't remember. All eyes turned to Harry, waiting for his reply.
“I saw her out by the pool last night.”
“Did you talk to her?”
“Yes.”
“What time was this?”
Harry hesitated. “Around eleven.”
“What were you doing out there? Were you together?”
“She told me she wanted to talk to me privately, so I met her out there.”
“You want to tell us what you talked about?”
“She had some concerns about something that happened a few weeks ago.” Although he had already told Josh this entire story in town, he went over it again as he walked across the room and sat down. “It had to do with a woman who called late one evening. She overheard Mr. Stockton call her Rebecca. That was the name of Scott's mother, Jeb's sister, who had been gone for many years. A few days later she saw a photograph of this same woman in the paper. She had been found dead in a motel with no identification. She saw Mr. Stockton looking at it before he threw the paper away. Then the young woman, Melody, came out to spend the weekend and disappeared. Marie was frightened and wanted to tell me about it.”
“Why didn't she go to the sheriff if she was scared?”
“She's an illegal and is afraid of being sent back to Mexico.”
Josh turned to Jeb. “Is that true, Mr. Stockton?”
“It's the first I've heard of it.”
“Did the woman come to your house?”
“No. He's making the whole thing up,” he replied indignantly. “I cannot think why he would make up such a preposterous story or what motive he could have to blacken the name of Stockton, but that is an out and out lie.”
“Wait a second here,” Harry said. “Do you deny Melody came out here and disappeared?” Harry leaned forward, upset that Jeb was accusing him of lying.
“The girl left of her own accord, in her own car. That has already been determined,” came the hot reply.
Standing and facing him squarely, Harry demanded, “Where is Marie? Did she leave of her own will and accord, too?” Spinning around to face Josh, he asked, “How many people have to disappear before you guys get off your butts and do something about it? You have a murdered woman and two missing girls, and the guilty party is sitting in this room!” he said, pointing at Jeb, who jumped from his seat.
“Get him out of my house!” Jeb shouted, doubling his fists and charging forward. “I'll not have a guest in my home accuse me of murder.”
Scott jumped between them. “He is my guest too, and I say he stays.”
Turning purple with rage, Jeb hissed, “Get out! Get out, both of you.” Glaring at Scott, he said, “This is my home, you little pip-squeak. My home! And you are out of here!” Turning, he stormed from the room.
Both Josh and Bob were dumbfounded by the turn of events. Getting up from their seats, they stood there for a minute. Josh cleared his throat. “I think we should all leave.”
“Hey, this is my home; everything here is just as much mine as his. He can't kick me out,” Scott protested.
“Maybe not, but he wants Harry to leave. We will wait while he gets his things and see him out.” He motioned for Harry to come with them. Harry didn't intend to argue the point. He hadn't meant to get into a screaming brawl with the old man, but he had an odd feeling the old guy was setting him up.
He gathered up his extra clothes and met them back at the entry. Scott was there with a small overnight bag. It was plain he didn't intend to hang around that big house alone with his uncle.
“You boys stay where I can find you. I may have some more questions. Harry...don't leave town.”
They each got into their own vehicle, Josh bringing up the rear. Harry and Scott pulled off the road at the motel; Bob and Josh waved and passed, secure in knowing where they could be found.
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* * *
Chapter 7
Before Scott could get out of the jeep, Harry motioned for him to stay. Climbing in beside him, he asked, “Is there any way we can get to the north pasture without being seen?”
“Yeah, as long as the river's not up we can cross into our pasture about ten miles out.”
“Let's do it. There has to be something up there. We need to know what it is. Come to think of it, I didn't see any sign of Hub when we were out at the house, did you?”
There was little or no conversation as they headed out the highway toward San Angelo. Leaving the highway and crossing the railroad tracks, they found a wire gate almost hidden by grass and weeds. Going through it, they bounced along an abandoned road to the river's edge. They had to search for a crossing. The river was running but it was low. As long as they didn't hit a bed of quicksand they could get across.
Scott put the jeep in low gear, and they eased down the steep embankment and onto the sandy river bottom. He got out and studied the depth of the water; it looked shallow from a distance but sometimes that was deceiving. Getting into the jeep, he turned to Harry. With a grin he said, “Hang on,” and stepped on the gas.
Harry grabbed the door and the dash. The first onslaught of water drenched him. He thought sure they had gone under; gasping for breath, he got a mouthful of sand and then here came the water again as they plowed through the ‘Devil's River'. When the jeep stopped, Harry peeked through his sandy eyelids to see where they might be. Somehow Scott had managed to get them across. Now they had to find a way out.
Wiping the grit from their faces, they drove downstream to find a wash they could drive up and out onto the riverbank. In Harry's opinion, Scott treated the
jeep like it was a mountain goat as they seemed to climb straight up the embankment. Once out on level ground they stopped to shake off the sand. After that wild ride they both had to get their bearings and decide where the north pasture was.
They seemed to have come out at the rockiest point along the river. Looking for smoother ground to travel on, they worked around the rock formation and headed south, looking for familiar territory. Picking their way through the craggy landscape, they were slow to react when the gunshot rang out.
Scott hit the brake about the time the second bullet hit the windshield, shattering it into a thousand pieces.
“Damn...duck!” Harry yelled as he rolled out the door onto the ground and hugged up to the jeep. A third shot rang out and he heard Scott grunt.
“Scott?”
He didn't answer.
Slithering across the rocky ground like a snake, Harry crawled to the other side of the jeep. Scott lay sprawled out on the ground, blood pooling beside him.
“Oh my God, Scott...” Harry looked around, not knowing for sure where the shooter was. He couldn't see anything. He had to take the chance. Rising slowly, he hesitated and then ran quickly to Scott's side. He felt for a pulse; it was there. He had to stop the flow of blood. Where was it coming from? Turning him over, he found the wound and applied pressure. Pulling off his shirt, he formed a makeshift pack and stripping off his belt, strapped it around Scott's shoulder and bound the wadded shirt to the wound.
He had to get him to a doctor, but how? He'd never be able to get back through that river bed. He would have to take him to the ranch...
Gathering Scott up in his arms, he carried him to the seat. But whoa... Who shot at them...was it Jeb? Was he out to kill Scott? Would he be safe at the ranch? There would be other people there... He would be safe. Looking at the unconscious boy, he vowed, “Hang on, Scott, I'll get you there.”
Placing him on the back seats, he fastened him in with the seat belts and headed out. He had to drive carefully but there was no time to waste. He prayed he was going in the right direction.