Boots and Bullets

by B. J Daniels

  Chapter Ten

  Kate woke to the smell of coffee. It was heavenly. She lay in bed for a few moments breathing in the scent before she remembered last night and realized she wasn’t in her own bed.

  She groaned. She really had to quit kissing Cyrus. She was playing with fire and she knew it. And yet as she climbed into the shower she found herself grinning. Last night she’d had the most wonderful dream while sleeping in his arms.

  As she toweled dry and dressed, she remembered the letter she’d found the night before. Now she knew why her mother had left her and gone to Whitehorse. Not that it made it any easier in the daylight.

  “Coffee?” Cyrus handed her a mug as she came into the kitchen.

  “Am I going to need this?” she asked, seeing the papers he had laid out on the table.

  His expression confirmed her fears. She took a sip of the coffee. It was good. She said as much, then asked, “Okay, what did you find?”

  She had to sit down as he told her about the five thousand dollars and how her grandmother had invested it for her.

  “That was the money she left me.” Her voice broke. “You know where that five thousand came from. Now we know why she switched the babies. Someone paid her to do it.”

  “Kate, I’ve had some time to think about this,” Cyrus said quickly. “Maybe your aunt did agree to switch the babies and apparently she did take the money, but I believe she got your mother to Whitehorse to talk her out of it. I think you were right about her switching the babies back and that’s what got her killed.”

  She looked into his face. Could she love this man any more? It didn’t seem possible, and yet she did. “But she still took the money.”

  “We know she was already in a bind over her job. For some reason, she hadn’t been fired. We also don’t know why someone wanted the babies switched. Maybe there was a reason that made it easier for your aunt to go along with the deal,” he suggested.

  She couldn’t help smiling at him. “Thank you.”

  They both jumped at the knock on the front door of the cabin.

  “Kate, it’s just me, May,” came an elderly female voice.

  “It’s my grandmother’s neighbor and good friend,” Kate said to Cyrus before going to answer the door. She hugged May and invited her inside, introducing her to Cyrus.

  “Land sakes, what are you two doing?” May said when she spied the mess.

  “Going through Grandmother’s things,” Kate told her and saw the older woman’s worried frown. “I know about Aunt Katherine and my mother.”

  May looked surprised, then wary. “Know what, dear?”

  “I know they aren’t buried up at Fir Ridge Cemetery. You could save me a lot of trouble by telling me what you know. Please,” Kate said, pulling out a chair. “Have a seat.”

  “I’ll get you a cup of coffee,” Cyrus suggested.

  May looked trapped, but took the chair she was offered. “Oh, dear,” she said as Cyrus slid a cup of coffee in front of her. She waved off the offer of sugar and cream. “I don’t know that much. Honestly.”

  “But you know they didn’t die the way my grandmother said,” Kate prodded.

  “Yes.” May glanced guiltily at her. “You have to understand. It was such a terrible time for your grandmother. Katherine was always a worry. Elizabeth had just given birth to you. Dimple had seen the letters from Katherine. She tried to talk your mother out of going, but Elizabeth was a strong, confident woman and she loved her sister so much.”

  “My mother went to help Katherine.” Kate had already figured that much out herself. “Did Dimple know what kind of trouble Katherine was in?”

  May sighed. “With Katherine it was either money or men. Or both. But Dimple never mentioned exactly what it was. I’m not sure she knew.”

  “So my mother went. I found a postcard from her to Grandmother saying she was coming home and bringing Katherine with her.”

  May nodded. “But they never made it.”

  “Grandmother must have known that something happened to them.”

  “Of course. That’s why she hired the private investigator,” May said. She nodded at their surprise. “It wasn’t like Dimple to take such a step.”

  “She didn’t call the sheriff?” Cyrus asked.

  “No,” May said. “She was afraid she would get Katherine in more trouble. Best to handle it privately.”

  Cyrus glanced at Kate. “And the private investigator?”

  “Couldn’t find a sign of either of them.”

  “What about their cars? Those should have turned up,” Cyrus said.

  May shook her head. “Kate, your mama had taken the bus to see her sister and who knows if Katherine even had a car that ran at that point. When she didn’t hear from them, Dimple didn’t know what to think. She waited, thinking one or the other or both would turn up. They couldn’t have just disappeared.”

  “She just waited?” Kate asked.

  “I remember those days when Elizabeth didn’t come home.” May took a sip of her coffee. “I saw the change in your grandmother. She knew something had happened to them and it wasn’t good. Elizabeth would have moved heaven and earth to get back to you, sweetie,” the elderly woman said, patting Kate’s hand.

  “So she just accepted that they were dead?” Kate demanded.

  May bristled at her tone. “Your grandmother had a baby to raise. She did what she had to do for you. Her life became all about protecting you. The last thing she wanted was to have whatever trouble your aunt had gotten into put you in any danger.”

  “So she came up with the story about Katherine’s weak heart and Elizabeth falling ill with pneumonia,” Cyrus said.

  “That’s right,” May said.

  “And people believed that?” Kate said.

  “Everyone loved your grandmother. If Dimple said the sky was falling, then everyone would have run for cover,” May said, clearly in awe of her old friend. “I went to your mother’s and aunt’s funerals up at Fir Ridge. They were beautiful ceremonies. Everyone in town turned out. After that, your grandmother dedicated her life to you, Kate. She never looked back and neither should you.”

  Kate looked at Cyrus, frustrated and close to tears. “If only she had contacted the sheriff in Whitehorse right away.”

  “She knew her daughters were gone the moment she found the bracelet on her doorstep.”

  “What?” Kate cried.

  May looked down at her hands, then back up at Kate. “She found one of the silver bracelets your grandfather made on her doorstep that spring. It was just lying there with one of the bells off lying next to it.”

  Kate’s gaze shot to Cyrus. So the bracelet she had was her aunt’s? Just as Cyrus had seen in his dream with the broken bell lying next to it on the nursery floor.

  She shot to her feet and rushed into her grandmother’s room to her jewelry box. The single bell lay under a nest of costume jewelry. She hadn’t noticed it the day she’d found the bracelet—and the postcard that had sent her to Whitehorse.

  As she came back into the room, she opened her fist to show Cyrus the tiny sleigh bell lying in her palm.

  “When she found the bracelet, she took it as a sign,” May said. “You have to understand your grandmother. Dimple Landon was all about living. She was the strongest, most courageous woman I knew, and she did a fine job of raising you. She has always been so proud of you.”

  “What about justice?” Kate asked. “Wouldn’t she have wanted justice?”

  May smiled sadly. “I would imagine that she knew justice would be served. All in good time.”

  ROBERTA WARREN FELT her heart drop as she replaced the phone. The sheriff was coming over to see her. She hadn’t asked what it was about. She’d known.

  It had started with Kate Landon moving to Whitehorse. The moment Roberta had laid eyes on her, she’d known. The young woman had asked a lot of questions, had even run a photograph in the newspaper.

  If you know anything about Katherine or Elizabeth Landon, ple
ase call, the ad had said.

  Roberta had held her breath, but nothing had come of it. After all, it had been thirty years, and no one knew Elizabeth Landon or would have recognized her from that grainy black-and-white photograph in the ad.

  Then Cordell Winchester had called about a murder at the hospital. She’d thought she’d put out that fire, but then his twin, Cyrus, had shown up at the hospital asking not only about the murder and the woman he’d alleged he’d seen in a dream—but about babies in the nursery.

  Thirty years ago and now it had all come back to haunt her. Roberta thought of the blood on the nursery floor, the woman lying in it, and felt a shudder of fear move through her. She’d never believed in karma. She didn’t want to start now.

  But she knew Cyrus Winchester couldn’t have dreamed any of this. So where was he getting his information? Who was he getting it from? Someone who wanted to hurt her, the hospital and the town and destroy her career.

  Roberta ran a hand through her short hair and tried to still her anger. She’d had a chance to retire and leave this town, but she’d passed it up because she wanted to come to a new, modern hospital for the last years of her career.

  She’d made a name for herself in this community despite growing up poor on a dirt farm south of town. Now all of that could be taken away with one fell swoop. She felt all the blood drain from her face at the thought.

  Well, she wasn’t going down alone. Nor was she going down broke. She’d sworn she would never be poor again.

  She reached for the phone, then hesitated. She knew there would be no going back once she made this call.

  To hell with that, she thought and, picking up the phone, dialed the local number. “You said not to worry when that woman moved to town, but now this man shows up swearing he saw a woman murdered in the old hospital nursery,” she said, keeping her voice down. “What man?”

  “Cyrus Winchester,” she said and reached over to turn on her radio. The woman in the next office was a terrible gossip and the walls were thin. Roberta thought maybe she shouldn’t have called from here. “He’s a private investigator. And that isn’t all, he’s asking about the two babies that were in the nursery the night of the murder.”

  She heard surprise on the other end of the line.

  “He knows. I thought you said—”

  “He doesn’t know anything.”

  “What if he’s found some evidence…”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  “You said that last time.” She took a breath. “I’m going to need more money.”

  Silence, then, “You were already paid.”

  “You said it was over, that no one would ever know.”

  “And no one does. I’ll take care of this.”

  “I want more money.”

  The silence lasted longer this time. “Fine, but don’t call me again. I’ll contact you.” The line disconnected.

  Roberta slammed down the phone, her hand shaking. A sliver of worry wedged itself just under her skin like a splinter. She hoped calling hadn’t been a mistake.

  NOW THAT HE and Kate knew what they were looking for, it didn’t take them long to find the canceled check and the report from the private investigator.

  Cyrus glanced at the report, then handed it to Kate.

  “He came up with nothing?” Just as May had said.

  “The P.I. couldn’t find your aunt or your mother. Your aunt was going under an assumed name and your mother…” Cyrus shrugged. “With neither of them driving a car, it would have been very hard to track either of them down.”

  Kate shook her head.

  “Unfortunately, the investigation firm she hired in Bozeman has gone out of business. Not that the investigator could help anyway, since he came up empty thirty years ago.” Cyrus could see how disappointed she was.

  Kate had been quiet since May had left, but somehow she looked more peaceful. Her grandmother had done what she thought was right. Dimple’s focus had been on the baby left in her care. And she had done a great job, Cyrus thought. Kate was wonderful.

  They dug through more boxes in the attic and some in a shed out back, but they found nothing else of interest.

  After breakfast at a diner in West Yellowstone, they drove the ninety miles to Bozeman. On the ride there, Kate was quiet. Cyrus lost himself in his own thoughts.

  Main Street Bozeman was bustling, unlike Whitehorse.

  “Too much traffic,” Kate complained as they drove through. “I forget how noisy and crazy it is being in a larger town.”

  Cyrus laughed at that. “You really are a small-town girl at heart. You should come to Denver.”

  “Maybe I will sometime,” she said without looking at him. “By the way, thank you for last night.”

  “Do you want to talk about your nightmare?”

  Kate shook her head. “I don’t even remember it.”

  Cyrus glanced over at her and saw her face. With a jolt, he realized this was the first time she’d ever lied to him.

  ROBERTA WARREN LOOKED UP in surprise as the sheriff appeared in her office doorway.

  “Do you have a minute?” McCall asked and watched as Roberta glanced at her clean desk as if searching for a reason to be too busy.

  After a moment, the hospital administrator rose behind her desk. “Come in.”

  McCall stepped into the office, closing the door behind her and making Roberta lift a brow.

  “Is this official business?” she asked, instantly looking nervous.

  McCall took a seat. “I’m here investigating a nurse who worked at the hospital thirty years ago. Candace Porter?”

  Roberta shook her head. “The name doesn’t ring a bell.” But McCall had already caught her expression. Roberta Warren was a horrible liar.

  “Really? She was murdered in your hospital thirty years ago. I would think you would have remembered that name, since I believe she was the only person to be murdered there.”

  Roberta’s cheeks flamed with embarrassment. “I guess I have tried to forget such a tragic incident. And it has been thirty years, as you say.”

  McCall nodded. “You still have a file on her, though.”

  The older woman looked as if she might deny it, but seemed to change her mind. “I’m sure we do.”

  “I’d like to see it. For some reason it wasn’t with the police report.”

  “Now?” Roberta said, clearly caught off guard.

  “Now.”

  “I’m not sure—”

  “I’ll be happy to help you look for it.”

  Roberta didn’t looked pleased to hear that. “The file would be in our storage facility across town.”

  McCall got to her feet. “Good thing Whitehorse is such a small town. We should be able to get the file before lunch. Well?” she asked when the hospital administrator hadn’t moved.

  “I was just thinking that I would probably need a judge to—”

  “Roberta,” the sheriff said patiently, “I can get a warrant to go through all your records. I’ll just have the storage facility sealed until I get access. The file should have been in the original police report. I can’t help but wonder why it isn’t in there.”

  The hospital administrator slowly got to her feet. Her face was pinched as she reached into her top drawer, took out a key and opened another drawer in her desk. From there she took another key, this one on a large key ring. She straightened.

  “I really don’t need you to come with—”

  “I’m tagging along,” McCall said. “Did I mention there is no statute of limitations on murder? Or the offense for obstructing justice?”

  “You don’t need to take that tone with me,” Roberta said, bristling.

  “Let me be honest with you,” the sheriff said. “You’ve made me suspicious enough just in the last few minutes. If you try to cover anything up—”

  Anger flared in Roberta’s eyes, her breath suddenly ragged. “I most certainly—”

  “Let’s just get this over with, shall we?
Oh, and I’d also like to get the names of the babies that were in the hospital nursery the night Candace Porter was murdered.”

  All the color washed from the hospital administrator’s face. “That will definitely take a subpoena to release that information. Hospital privacy laws—”

  “Yes, I’m familiar with those,” McCall said, gratified. She didn’t have the names, but she did have something she’d come for. Roberta Warren was scared. McCall had been in law enforcement long enough to know what that meant.

  The question was, how deeply involved had Roberta been in this mess?

  BY THE TIME Cyrus drove them through Big Timber, dark clouds hung over the Crazy Mountains. At Harlowton to the north, snowflakes began to fall and by the time they reached Judith Gap, the snow was blowing horizontally and spinning the impressive blades of the wind farm on both sides of the two-lane highway.

  “Thirty years ago, five thousand dollars was a lot of money,” Kate said when they stopped in Lewistown at a Chinese-food place. They’d both been quiet most of the trip so far, both clearly lost in their own thoughts. “Who in Whitehorse had that kind of money?”

  Cyrus shrugged. “There’s money there, you just don’t see it like you do in Bozeman or some place where people are moving to Montana and building huge homes. Some of the ranchers do all right, I’ve heard. They run big spreads. I would imagine any number of them could have raised the five grand.”

  “I guess we won’t know until we get the names of the parents of the babies in the nursery that night,” she said with a sigh.

  “McCall is working on it. Hopefully, by the time we get home—” His cell phone rang. He smiled. “McCall,” he said. “We were just talking about you.”

  Kate listened to his side of the conversation, filling in the blanks.

  “We’re on our way back now,” Cyrus said. “Lewistown. Sure, we can do that. You’ll be at the office? You can’t tell me over the phone what you’ve found out? What about the babies? Yeah, I expected that. Any chance of getting a judge to sign a subpoena? Yeah.” He looked over at Kate. “Sure, I understand. Okay, see you in a couple of hours.”