by Bo Drury
Once he found the fishing tank he was home free. Honking the horn before he got to the ranch, he got the attention of the ranch hands.
Orlando, hearing the horn, was standing by the corral watching for him as he drove into the yard.
“Scott's been shot. We have to get him to the hospital...now! Get in and help me with him.”
Orlando jumped in beside Scott and another ranch hand got in front with Harry. No one asked questions. Orlando put pressure on the wound. Harry stepped on the gas and drove like a bat out of hell to the small local hospital.
Whipping into the emergency entrance, Harry bore down on the horn. Orderlies rushed out with a stretcher and took Scott straight into a curtained room. The on-duty doc asked what happened.
“He's been shot,” was all Harry got out before they shooed him from the room. Going to the waiting room, an anxious Orlando looked Harry over. “Man, what happened to you guys? How did Scott get shot? Who shot him?”
“I wish I knew. It wasn't an accident, it was deliberate. Someone meant to kill one or both of us.”
“Where were you? You look like you've been rolled in the mud.” For the first time, Harry thought what he must look like. His clothes were stiff with mud and sand, as was his hair.
“We went through Devil's River in the jeep. Scott is one nervy kid.” Harry shook his head. “And a hell of a driver.”
The doctor came out; the three men stood up expectantly.
“He will be okay. He lost a lot of blood. Someone from the sheriff's department will be here soon to fill out a report on the gunshot wound. How did this happen?”
“Someone just started shooting at us as we were driving through the pasture. I never saw anyone, but they fired several times. The first shot hit the front of the jeep. I didn't realize what was happening until the windshield shattered. We piled out. The third shot hit Scott. The shooter quit then. I loaded him in the jeep and headed for the ranch.”
Hearing a commotion in the hall, Harry turned. It was Jeb.
“Where is he? Where is my nephew?” he demanded, scowling when he saw Harry.
Taking him by the arm and leading him down the hall, the doctor assured him, “He is okay, Mr. Stockton. He lost a lot of blood and he will be stove up for a while, but he will recover quickly. That's the advantage of being young. He is sedated now, but you can look in on him.”
Harry thought he was going to be sick. What a show Jeb was putting on as the concerned uncle. What a bunch of crap. Harry needed to go to his room and clean up. There was little he could do here. Scott would be safe in the hospital. He didn't want to talk to Jeb.
“Orlando, give me a lift to the motel?”
“What about the sheriff?”
“He can find me at the motel; I want to get this sand off me.” Harry needed to go regroup, lay things out and look at the broad picture. This had turned into a lot more than he had bargained for. He sure hadn't signed on to get shot. He was worried about Scott. And where was Marie? Bad as things were, he was determined to see what was going on in the north pasture. He would check back on Scott later.
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Chapter 8
Washing away the grit and grime helped a lot, but he couldn't wash away the burning anger he felt in the pit of his stomach. As he wiped away the fog from the mirror, the face he saw looked haunted. If he hadn't insisted on going back to the ranch, Scott wouldn't be lying in the hospital. He was just a kid. The first impression he'd had of Scott was wrong. He wasn't a wimp; fact was, he had a lot of spunk.
Dropping the towel and reaching for his clothes, he remembered everything he had was ruined. His clothes were a mess. If he was going to be here a few more days—and right now it looked like he may be here for a while—he should run to San Angelo and pick up some things. It was only sixty miles; he could be over there and back before anyone missed him, three hours at the most.
Slipping on his wrinkled slacks, he headed for San Angelo. It felt good to be on the road and behind the wheel of his car; the thought crossed his mind to just keep driving and never come back. His business was on a downhill slide, he was in debt up to his... But then there was the boy, Scott, plus the fact Jeb had insinuated he lied about everything. If nothing else, he was honest. He would not tolerate anyone saying otherwise... No, he would have to hang around and finish what he had started, and right now that meant putting the high and mighty Jeb Stockton behind bars.
Parking behind his office on Main, he climbed the stairs two at a time to the apartment. Picking up his mail, he thumbed through it quickly and gathered up a few things to take back with him.
Pulling on a pair of Levis and soft boots, he was tucking in his shirt when someone banged on the office door. He started to ignore it then decided he might be looking for a new client soon. Bounding down the stairs, he was surprised when he looked into the face of Josh Turner.
Opening up, he asked, “What's up, Josh—is Scott okay?”
“You are under arrest, Harry. Anything you say—”
“Hey, I know the drill. What is the reason?”
“I told you not to leave town. Cuff him.” Harry turned to see two men behind him who had come through his apartment.
“I wasn't running, Josh, I needed some clothes. I was coming right back.”
“We found Marie, Harry...she's dead. She's been shot.”
“Oh, no... Where was she?”
Josh gave him a queer look before he answered, “Up in the north pasture.”
“Who found her?”
“One of the ranch hands stumbled across her this afternoon. He had gone up to check on the site where young Scott got hit. I think you have a lot of explaining to do. Let's go.”
“Josh, I don't have anything to do with any of this.”
“We'll see.”
This can't be happening, he thought as he watched them lock up his place. As they pulled away from the curb, he saw Doris standing on the corner. He wondered how much she saw. He hoped she had sense enough to call him an attorney.
The clang of that cell door was nothing he liked to hear, especially when he was on the wrong side of it. Unrolling the thin mattress onto the metal cot, he sat down. All he could do now was wait for his attorney to bail him out.
He felt Jeb was behind this. He was a threat to Jeb as long as he was loose and prowling around.
Scott in the hospital, Marie dead, Rebecca dead, Melody missing and him in jail. Who was next? Why Melody? He could understand the greed on Jeb's part and doing away with Rebecca, and why he would want to get rid of Scott too. He could have it all then, but why Melody? What did she have to do with all this?
Would they find her body in the north pasture? Did Hub fit in here any place? He couldn't see where. Was he a loyal employee to Jeb? If so, why did he tell Marie to confide in him about Rebecca? No, Hub was just a bystander who heard and saw too much. He better watch it—he might be next.
He felt tightness in his throat thinking of Marie. He could still see those big brown eyes as she asked for his help. She was a pretty girl. What a waste.
Closing his eyes, he lay back. How did Jeb know they were out there? He sat up; he had to get out of here. Scott wasn't out of danger as long as Jeb was free.
“What have you got yourself into, Harry?” came a jovial voice from down the walkway, followed by the round face and plump body of his lawyer friend, Charlie Flood. The deputy beside him pulled out keys and unlocked the cell door.
“Charlie...thanks for coming on over.”
“Yeah, I was in the neighborhood,” he joked. Then seriously, “What is going on, Harry?”
“Let's get out of here and I'll tell you all about it,” he said as Charlie led him out the front and into the sunshine.
Harry waited until they were in the Bus-Stop Cafe before he told Charlie the story of Melody and the following events.
“From what I can gather, you are under suspicion of murder in the case of Marie Espinosa.”
<
br /> “That's crazy, Charlie.”
“Seems you were the last one to see her.”
“Except for the killer. Charlie, I need my car; it's still behind the office.”
“Harry, you gotta keep a low profile, stay away from the Stockton ranch and stay where the sheriff can contact you. You're in enough trouble right now. I'll get with Doris and we will bring your car over in the morning.” Picking up a menu, he said, “Right now let's eat.”
Harry hadn't realized how hungry he was until then.
Charlie dropped him off at the motel and headed north.
Sitting around the motel room is as bad as being in jail, he thought. Going to the front desk, he asked about a car rental.
“Only thing like that is the u-haul place down the road.”
“No, I need a car. My friend is in the hospital. I'd like to go see about him.”
“Well, I can give you a lift to the hospital in about twenty minutes. I'll be leaving when we change shifts for the night.”
“Great, honk when you're ready.”
He had been uncertain about the reception he would receive when he stepped out on the third floor and approached Scott's room. Thankfully, no one was around. Scott seemed to be sleeping, so he sat down in the chair and closed his eyes. He was tired, but the motel room was too confining.
“You okay?”
He opened his eyes to see Scott watching him. “I'm fine, Scott, but how about you?”
“I've been better,” he said with a grin. “Do you know who shot at us?”
“I have my suspicions.”
Scott turned his face away and looked at the ceiling. Harry had to lean in to hear what he was saying. “It's hard to believe Uncle Jeb would try to kill me. We've had our differences, but for him to do this...”
Seeing the moisture in his eyes, Harry said nothing. Scott closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Harry propped his feet on a stool, making himself as comfortable as possible. He was hanging around to make sure no one tried to finish the job on the kid. It was gonna be a long night.
He woke when the door to the room opened and Josh Turner walked in. “I've been looking for you. I should have known this was where you would be. We need to talk.” Stepping to the bed, he turned his attention to Scott. “Do you feel like talking about what happened?”
“Sure.”
“Do you have any idea who the shooter was?”
He looked in Harry's direction before he answered, “No.”
“What were you two doing up there?”
“I was showing Harry the ranch.”
“Who knew where you were going?”
Shaking his head, he answered, “No one knew where we were going.”
Studying him thoughtfully, Josh asked the question they were all thinking. “Why do you think someone would shoot at you?”
Scott closed his eyes and again shook his head. “I don't know,” he whispered.
But we do know, Harry thought.
Turning to Harry, Josh said, “Tell me exactly what happened as you remember it.”
Harry repeated the events, then asked, “Where exactly did they find Marie?”
Scott gasped, “Oh, no!”
“Boy, I'm sorry; I forgot you didn't know about that.”
The doctor walked in, frowning when he saw Josh and Harry there. It was obvious Scott was upset.
“How's my patient?” He checked him over, ignoring the two visitors. “You seem to be doing well. I can let you go home, but no bouncing around in that jeep. And I need to see you in a couple of days. I'll call your uncle and tell him he can pick you up.”
“No, I'll go with Harry. Thanks anyway.”
The young doctor looked Harry over, then said, “I have to notify him you left the hospital. The nurse will be in with your release papers.”
Waiting for the door to close, Josh asked, “Are you afraid of your uncle?”
“You were there when he ordered me out of the house.”
“He was very upset when he heard you had been shot. He came up here and stayed for quite a long time. I'm sure what he said was said in the heat of anger.”
“I'm not going back anyhow!”
Looking from Harry to Scott, he told him, “Harry was arrested on suspicion in Marie's death.”
Shocked, Scott reacted by jerking upright. Hurt, he moaned, “That's crazy.”
“You never did say where she was found.”
“She wasn't a hundred yards from where Scott was shot.”
Was it just a coincidence they happened by when the shooter was there? It had to be a coincidence; no one knew about them. It could be just a case of bad luck we drove up when we did, Harry decided. Maybe no one was out to kill Scott. But we can't take that chance yet.
“Scott will be at the motel with me until he feels well enough to go home.”
Josh started from the room. “Wait,” both Scott and Harry called to him. “We do need a ride,” Harry added.
Josh waved. “Call me when you're ready to go. I won't be far away.”
Settling Scott into his own room at the motel, Harry told him Charlie was bringing his car over and that he wanted to go back to the ranch and somehow get to the north pasture. He felt all the answers were up there.
Scott was upset he couldn't go but knew it was impossible. He tried to figure a way Harry could get there without going over the river again. Harry's car would never make it across the water.
Harry walked to the Quick Stop to buy some snacks and magazines to keep Scott occupied while he was gone. Walking back, he saw Jeb's Lexus parked in front of Scott's room.
“Damn.” He hurried to the door just as Jeb was leaving, red faced and angry.
“You've turned that boy against me with your lies. You'll never get a cent out of me. I'll see to it you lose your license.” Getting in the car, he peeled out, leaving tread marks behind. Harry saw the desk clerk rush to the window and watch as he fishtailed onto the highway, then look toward Harry and shrug his shoulders.
Harry tapped on the door and went inside. Scott was slumped down in the bed; his lips buttoned tight, arms crossed, and dark eyes flashing.
“I see you had company while I was gone.” He tossed the goody sack on the bed and spread the magazines on the night table.
“Until he tells me about my mother, I will never go back there,” he said defiantly.
“That reminds me...you need to call the funeral home and have her moved from the morgue.” Locating the phone book, he looked up the number and gave it to Scott.
Scott made the call and explained to them what he wanted; then as he sat there, a strange look came over his face. He listened to the person on the other end of the phone line and hung up. Without saying a word, he stared a Harry.
“Scott, what's wrong?”
“She's been cremated.”
Harry jumped up. “Do what?” he asked incredulously. “How the hell did that happen?”
“The sheriff ordered it.”
“When and why?”
“I don't know,” he said, covering his face for a minute. “Now we can't prove who she was, but I know it was my mother.”
“I want to talk to Josh.” Picking up the phone to dial, he was interrupted by a knock on the door. Opening it, he found Josh Turner standing there. Not giving him an opportunity to say a word, he lit in on him. Josh explained the order had been issued before the sheriff left town; he knew nothing about it until it had been done.
“I really feel rotten about this, Scott. They're holding her ashes for you at the funeral home. We did make a positive ID from her fingerprints.”
“Fingerprints?”
“From your birth certificate. We matched the prints from that. They always print the mother and baby at birth for identification purposes. That way there won't be a mix up with the babies. I remembered that after you talked about the DNA test.”
“Why did the sheriff order the cremation?”
“That I don't know.”
“Uncle Jeb was behind it, I know he was!” he cried out.
Opening the door to a soft tap, Harry discovered Charlie Flood's friendly face, with Doris standing behind him.
“We have a delivery for a ‘Hairy’ Mann,” he said, smiling broadly. Then seeing the tension, he grew serious. “Are we interrupting something?”
“No, I was just leaving. I'll let you know what I find out from the sheriff, Scott,” Josh said as he nodded to Doris and left the room.
Doris walked around Charlie and put her arms around Harry and hugged him tight. Looking up into his face, she said, “I have been so worried about you. When I saw them arrest you I couldn't believe it. Charlie explained what was going on here. Can I do anything to help?”
“You coming is enough. Doris, Charlie, this is Scott.” Placing his arm around her shoulders, he smiled and said, “My friend and sometime secretary, Doris. And this is my attorney and sometime friend, Charlie Flood.”
They stayed for a while, then after giving Harry his keys and the overnight bag he had packed before being rudely arrested, they went to the car. Doris gave him a thumbs up, avoiding physical contact, and Charlie cautioned him to stay out of trouble. Then they were gone.
Harry watched as they drove away. They were both good friends. Doris had let him know early on that was the only way it could be if she was going to work for him. Pity, he thought, thinking of the warm embrace he had received earlier.
Looking in on Scott, he found him sound asleep. Scribbling a quick note, he laid it by the magazines and left, pulling the door to behind him.
Giving scant thought to what he was doing, he headed for the ranch, determined to get through without being seen if he had to walk all the way.
Following the main road, he veered off before he reached the house and pulled into heavy brush. With the top down on the car, it wasn't noticeable from the road. Striking out on foot, he skirted around the corral and house. He felt like an Indian sneaking from tree to tree. Guess it was time he used some of the skills instilled in him by his ancestors. Surely he had some back there someplace who knew how to do all this stuff.
Once beyond the main quarters, he felt free to walk without hiding, although he remained cautious. Finding the tire tracks from Hub's trip to the area, he followed them. When he neared the fishing tank, he took to the brush again.