Whispers of the Heart

by Woster, Barbara

  “Am I supposed to find that funny, Sheriff?” Marsha replied angrily.

  “I guess not,” he answered, continuing to watch her reaction carefully. So far, if she was hiding anything, it wasn’t showing up on her expression.

  “A woman could shrivel up and die waiting for that one to take notice.”

  “Kathryn McMurray didn’t shrivel up,” Jonathan said.

  “That is not even funny!”

  “Got something against Miss McMurray, Marsha?” Jonathan asked.

  Marsha rolled her eyes, “What could I have against a woman I barely know?”

  “She just happened to catch Dalian’s eye. Something you couldn’t do, right?”

  “Am I on trial for finding the man attractive or something?” Marsha rejoined.

  “Wait a minute!” Kenny interjected; watching slack jawed as their conversation intensified. If Marsha wasn’t a woman, and the sheriff not wearing a badge, he was certain the two would start beating up on each other in another minute or two. Not that he cared, what his brain latched onto was the conversation about Dalian Rivers. “Let me get this straight. You telling me that I’m only up here because you couldn’t snare the boss man?”

  “Like you care,” Marsha snapped at Kenny. “You’re getting what you want.”

  “Damned straight,” Kenny snapped in reply. “And now I’ll be getting the sleep I want. I’m outta here.”

  “Good riddance,” Marsha swiped at the tears welling in her eyes as Kenny turned to collect his clothes from the bedroom floor. “Thanks a lot, Sheriff!”

  “So, aren’t you two interested in why I knocked? Why all the sirens and ruckus so early in the a.m.?” Jonathan asked, watching the emotional display with detached interest.

  “Not really,” they both answered simultaneously.

  “Well, I’ll tell you anyway,” he said, waiting for Kenny to finish collecting his things. When they both were facing him again, he continued, “but I’ll say this first – if I find out that either of you are holding out on me, not imparting information that can help resolve this matter, I’ll haul you downtown, throw your hides in jail, and toss the key into Wind River Canyon.”

  “What case? What the hell are you talking about?” Kenny snapped at the same time as Marsha exclaimed, “What in hell matter are we supposed to know about?”

  The Sheriff eyed them like a hawk. It was apparent by their reactions that neither of them knew a thing about the early morning activities, and since both had a solid alibi, he’d have to turn the investigation elsewhere. “Someone tried to kill Dalian Rivers and Kathryn McMurray. Nearly burned the barn down on top of them,” the Sheriff informed them, and then turned and walked away, leaving Kenny standing there with his jaw on the floor and Marsha with fear and worry in her eyes; praying silently that her father hadn’t reverted to Plan B.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “Hey, you!” Kat awoke to see Dalian sleeping in the chair next to her bed. The sound of her voice jarred him awake, and she giggled as he nearly toppled from the seat. He shook the sleepies away and scooted the chair closer to the bedside.

  “How are you feeling?” He whispered, clasping her hand in his.

  “You can wipe the worry from your eyes. I’m going to be fine.” Kat assured him, and was relieved to see a genuine smile replace the concern in his gaze. “What about you? Goose egg gone?”

  Dalian laughed shortly, and leaned up to place a kiss on her lips. When he leaned up to look down at her, the laughter in his gaze was gone, and the concerned look had returned. He didn’t answer her question, instead said, “I haven’t been this scared about anyone since...” He stopped talking abruptly and returned to his seat, lying his head down atop her hand. This wasn’t the first time she’d sensed a tragedy in his life behind the words spoken, and wondered if he would open up to her if she asked. She was all too aware the anguish that talking could generate after heartbreak and could readily empathize should he decide not to share. Still, she needed to try. She couldn’t say why, but Dalian had suddenly become very important to her, and knowing all about him an unexpected need.

  “What happened, Dalian? Did you lose someone like I did?” She whispered. He lifted his head and sighed.

  When he just sat there shaking his head, she didn’t think he was going to answer, but then he began to speak in a near whisper, “Two years ago, my next-door neighbor rode his horse onto my land, in apparent pursuit of a cougar that had been slaughtering his sheep. I heard the rifle fire, but the imminent danger didn’t register; not until I saw Canton leap from his horse and give chase on foot, firing wildly.” Dalian lowered his head and sighed heavily before continuing. “By the time I realized that the cougar and Canton were headed to where my wife was standing, I was too late. Canton took aim, fired, and killed her. She was carrying my unborn boy.”

  “Oh my God, Dalian. I’m so sorry.” Kat placed a hand in comfort on top of his head.

  He raised his head, picked up her hand, and kissed it lightly. “Time does heal the heart, but sometimes having a reminder of our mortality shoved in our faces can make the hurt return with a vengeance.”

  “I know.”

  “You do, don’t you? You said you’d lost your husband about the same time, apparently, that I lost my wife.” Dalian sat stroking her hand with his thumb.

  Kat sighed and nodded. “Not just my husband. My twins also.”

  “Oh my God, Kat . . .”

  “Just like you,” she continued, trying to recite the events without falling to pieces, “I lost my entire family in one fell swoop, two years ago. My husband came in from work – he worked third shift – and saw that our four-year-old twins were awake before me, so gathered them up and took them out for breakfast. A friend of his, from the force – my husband was a cop – woke me early that morning to tell me that a truck driver – a drunk driver – was speeding down Interstate 20; the same highway as my family. He lost control, flipped his rig. It landed on top of our little Prius. They didn’t stand a chance. The rig was carrying a full load and the weight crushed . . .” Kat stopped, closing her eyes against the onslaught of pain.

  Dalian slid from the chair onto the bed, and pulled her into his embrace; both crying tears of loss, but also of relief over being able to speak to someone who could identify with the misery. It was more than five minutes before either moved or spoke. Kat sniffled loudly and pulled from Dalian’s embrace. She reached over and yanked two Kleenex from the box on the table next to her bed, handing one to Dalian before blowing her nose delicately.

  “Oh, I need to get in touch with my Janet,” Kat sniffled, blowing her nose again. “Let her know what’s going on. I saw she called yesterday, and completely forgot to call her back.”

  “Is Janet a relative?”

  “No, my publisher.”

  “Really. I didn’t realize that publishers stayed in such close contact with their clients. You must be a mighty important writer.”

  Kat smiled, “Wishful thinking. Janet is more than just my publisher, she’s also my dearest friend. Talking about my loss reminded me of her only because she went through every hellish step with me. I’m not certain I could have made it through without her. Hey, wait a minute! When we were talking a few minutes ago, you mentioned the name Canton. Isn’t that Marsha’s last name? The girl working at your ranch?”

  “Yeah. It’s her father,” Dalian said.

  “Good God. And he’s still walking around free?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t see how the man isn’t in prison for murder. The man who killed my family is in prison for a majority of the rest of his life.” Kat shook her head, unable to comprehend how the man was still walking around free. “And how can you allow Marsha Canton to work for you knowing what her dad did? How can you live next to them?”

  “I don’t blame Marsha. I can’t hold someone else responsible for another’s actions. Her dad is the one to blame, and though he’s been a pain in my backside, trying to shove his daug
hter down my throat, it isn’t something that I can’t deal with. I never see him and that’s good enough for me. I can’t say I felt that way two years ago. Had he or his daughter shown their faces on my land, I’d have likely shot first and asked questions later.”

  “I still don’t see how he got away with it.”

  “He claimed he never saw my wife; that she was hidden in the shadows. He also said that he was aiming for the cougar, and it was never his intent to harm anyone. He skated on the charge, but lost his license to carry a gun.”

  Kat shook her head, “Unbelievable!” She whispered. “That’s why you brought your rifle out to the barn . . . was it Canton that tried to kill us? But why would he want to? Could Marsha be capable? I know she didn’t like that you and I . . . well, you know.”

  Dalian didn’t respond, just sat watching her. Kat’s cheeks colored a deep crimson. He smiled, lifted her hand, and placed another kiss on the back. “You and I think alike,” he said after a minute, “but I can’t think of a justifiable reason for Canton wanting us dead – other than he seems hell bent on getting his clutches into my property. That’s why Marsha hangs around. I think her dad wanted me to marry her, so that any offspring would inherit my 200-acre spread. But is my land enough to kill over? I just don’t know.”

  “Well, something we do know – someone wanted either you or me dead, or both of us, and since we’re not...”

  “Don’t say it, Kat,” Dalian interrupted sharply. “Sheriff Masters is looking into what happened. He’ll catch whoever’s behind this.”

  “But is it safe to return to the ranch? For either of us?”

  Dalian nodded, “Now that we’re aware, we’ll be safer. But you have to promise me, no more pre-dawn visits outside, ok?”

  “Maybe it would be safer for me to return to Georgia,” Kat’s heart wasn’t in the declaration to begin with, but sank further when Dalian didn’t immediately respond to her suggestion. “Dalian?”

  He shook his head, mumbling curses beneath his breath. The sudden flare of anger emanating from him was almost tangible. After a few minutes more, he lifted his gaze to hers, the intensity boring into her own. “If I thought you would be safer in Georgia, I would put you on the first plane out in the morning, but I can’t know for certain that you weren’t the target, and if you were, and I send you away, I wouldn’t be there to protect you if another attempt is made. I know you won’t feel safe at the ranch until this is resolved, so I will fully understand if you want to hightail it back to Covington, but can you see my side of it? My desire to protect you? And you can trust that I’ll do so with my life...”

  Kat placed her fingers gently onto Dalian’s lips. “I trust you. I know you’ll protect me, but who’ll protect you, Dalian?”

  “My Remington shotgun and Ruger 22 Magnum begin double duty, round-the-clock protection beginning the moment we return home.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “Dad, where are you?” Marsha called as she pushed through the front door. She was still shaking over the sheriff’s visit earlier that morning, and had waited until he left the property to collect her things, mount her mare, and hightail it for home. She wasn’t thrilled at doing so, but despite her feelings toward her old man, he was still family and she felt it her duty to warn him that the sheriff would be paying him a visit soon.

  She also had to know. Why, she wasn’t certain, but her desire to know whether her father had a hand in Dalian’s attack was weighing on her as heavily as if a horse sat atop her chest.

  “Dad, you in here?” She peered into the kitchen. When she didn’t see him, she made her way down the hall toward his bedroom. She pushed open the door and sighed loudly, both with relief and in annoyance. Her dad was sprawled across his bed covers, still fully clothed, the aroma of alcohol permeating the air. With that evidence before her, she knew he couldn’t have snuck over to Dalian’s property in the wee early hours and assaulted him, or set the barn on fire. Unless he managed to get dead drunk afterward. Her dad simply wasn’t a functioning alcoholic; however, there was really only one way to know.

  She moved to waken her dad, but a pounding sounded at the front door halting her in her tracks.

  Instinctively she knew that the sheriff had arrived. She looked over at her dad again, and then made her way back to the front door. It still stood wide open from when she’d barged in, so when she approached, she could see the sheriff standing on the porch, his fist lifted ready to pound on the screen door jamb again.

  The sheriff saw Marsha draw near and his brow quirked, “Didn’t take you long to race over here. Come to warn your dad?”

  “Yeah,” Marsha said with a nod, and then pushed the screen door open to admit the sheriff. “He may be a drunken sod, but he’s still my dad, so I felt I owed him a heads up. In fact, I was just about to warn him when you showed up, and when you see what I did when I got here – just a minute ago, by the way – you’ll be marking him off of your suspect list.”

  “You sound mighty confident about that.”

  “I am.” Marsha turned and headed back down the hall toward her dad’s room. When she reached the door, she stepped aside and motioned for the sheriff to look inside. “He was like that when I got here. Drunk as a skunk and dead to the world. And from the smell of alcohol lingering in the air, he’s been binging for more than a day.”

  “That a fact,” the sheriff asked, making his way across to the bed.

  “I’d say so, yeah,” Marsha replied, following behind. “I’ve seen it too many times in the past to know he only gets this way when he’s on a binge. Look sheriff, I know you think you’ve got just cause to suspect my dad – hell, if it were me, I’d put him on my suspect list simply for being a grade A jackass – but I’m telling you right now, there’s no way he could’ve have done what you said happened. Not in this condition.”

  “While I appreciate you going to bat for him, Marsha, I think I should ascertain for myself whether he’s a viable suspect. Fair enough?”

  “I have a feeling that nothing about this investigation is likely to be fair,” Marsha muttered.

  The sheriff chose to ignore her comment, and instead reached down and roughly shook Jethro Canton on the shoulder. Her dad didn’t so much as moan at the intrusion. Jonathan tried again, this time calling Canton’s name loudly in the man’s ear. That elicited a small groan, but Jethro remained out cold, and unaware. The sheriff straightened and shook his head, releasing a loud sigh of frustration.

  “Sorry it wasn’t him, aren’t you, Sheriff?” Marsha asked unable to keep the smugness out of her tone.

  “Mighty sorry, yes, because that means there’s someone unknown to me that has a motive for doing away with Dalian – a motive other than his land,” Jonathan admitted, and then turned to face Canton’s daughter. “You are not to return to Dalian’s ranch . . . and don’t interrupt,” he said, when she started shaking her head and opened her mouth to speak. “You and your dad may not have been responsible for this latest attack on Dalian, but I am going to have a tough time convincing him of that. And another thing, get your daddy up and sober a.s.a.p. When you do, deliver a message. Tell him that I want to see him and you in my office first thing tomorrow morning. If you aren’t there, I’ll issue warrants for your arrests for obstruction. Understand?”

  “But I thought we weren’t suspects anymore?” Marsha asked, eyes widening with renewed concern.

  “You’ll be cleared of any wrongdoing as soon as I interview your dad formally about his whereabouts. Not a minute sooner. The same goes for you and your whereabouts.” The sheriff walked past Marsha and out of the Canton’s ranch house. When he settled behind the steering wheel of his Jeep Comanche, he gripped the wheel tightly and laid his head down on his whitening knuckles. He had to let Dalian know about what he discovered, and didn’t relish his reaction. Admittedly, he was as convinced as Dalian was about Jethro’s involvement; was certain as could be that he’d found justifiable cause to lock the man away for the rest of his li
fe. Vindication for both this current act and the killing of Carolyn Rivers two years earlier. He’d hoped to give Dalian peace of mind, at last. Now, even his own peace and certainty was shattered because he now had to find another suspect, where there didn’t appear to be one.

  After another moment, he lifted his head, and reached into his coat pocket to retrieve his cell phone. He dialed Dalian’s number and left a message when he got his voice mail.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Jethro Canton looked on the verge of demise, as if the Angel of Death was only minutes out from coming to claim his soul from this world. Marsha’s skin was so pale, that the sheriff was concerned she’d pass out any moment. Despite looking peaked and ill, both still carried a chip on their shoulder the size of a boulder and sat sullenly across from Sheriff Masters. Neither were pleased that the sheriff sat silently observing them – had been doing so since their arrival five minutes earlier.

  As if suddenly weary of trying to maintain an affronted facade, Jethro slumped further into his chair, rubbing his temples, but the headache refused to subside. He finally gave up on his head and wrapped his arms about his midriff, hoping to contain what little contents remained in his stomach, as nausea welled and settled repeatedly. He opened his eyes and glared at the sheriff, suddenly filled with an overwhelming animosity at the man who’d made him drag his hide out of bed after visiting too long with alcohol.

  After another minute of silence, he determined enough was enough and sprang back to a seated position. The sudden movement was too much for his recovering body and he doubled over, gripping his abdomen tighter, as the acid in his stomach shot up his throat and threatened to fly out of his tightly clamped mouth. He didn’t much care whether he threw up all over the sheriff’s floor, but he did care about the mortification that would follow over being unable to handle his drink and the subsequent hangover.