In the Paths of Righteousness (Psalm 23 Mysteries)

by Viguié, Debbie

  “I’m not the mental one, that would be you.”

  “Really, because what you’re doing now, that’s insane. You’re not being rational. It’s just a name. They don’t even look alike, not really.”

  “Not really? What does that mean? What, do they have the same hair color, eye color?”

  “No, nothing like that,” he said, raising his hands as though to fend off her questions.

  “I can’t believe you! And you weren’t going to tell me. What, were you saving that surprise for the wedding invitation?”

  “Listen to me, Cindy. Lisa, our sister, she’s dead, and there’s nothing we can do to bring her back.”

  “You don’t think I don’t know that?” She was yelling. She could hear herself, but somehow she couldn’t force herself to lower her voice as she just kept going. “I live with that every single day.”

  “And you don’t honor her by shutting yourself up away from the world and not living your own life!” Kyle was shouting now, too.

  “Oh, and you honor her by stupidly risking your life on all these crazy stunts?”

  “More than you!”

  Cindy swung her fist and hit Kyle as hard as she could in the face.

  He staggered backward, a look of shock on his face.

  Then she felt hands grabbing her shoulders, dragging her away from him. She was shaking with rage and something else that she realized must be shock. A moment later she was sitting cross-legged on the ground, head in her hands.

  “Seems to me we’ve been down this road before,” Mark said. “Only last time all you did was slap Jeremiah. Seems you’re graduating. That was a nice punch, by the way, I’m just sorry I wasn’t the one who threw it.”

  She looked up at him after a minute. “I hit him,” she said.

  “I know. You’re still working your way through the PTSD. You’re going to lose it every once in a while, the trick is just learning to control the direction in which you lash out.”

  “This had nothing to do with PTSD and everything to do with Kyle,” she said.

  “I’m sure he deserved it.”

  “He’s dating a woman with the same first name as our dead sister.”

  Mark blinked at her. “Okay. I can see where that might be a bit traumatic to someday have to reference her as your sister or sister-in-law, or whatever.”

  He didn’t get it, she could tell. She could also tell he wasn’t about to say so, probably afraid that she would hit him as well.

  She was tired. At the moment it felt like that was all she had ever been her entire life was tired. The thought of spending another day being bounced around on the wagon sounded like more than she could take. “I don’t think I’m cut out to be a cowboy,” she admitted.

  “Well, you hit like one,” Jeremiah said as he walked up, looking inordinately pleased.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Kyle’s going to be doing the rest of his show with a magnificent black eye.”

  She knew she should feel guilty. Knew it, wanted to, but couldn’t. Instead she felt a strong sense of satisfaction. This day had been coming for a lot of years. She had finally told her brother off and hit him in the eye with a fist instead of a dart like she had for years with her dartboard back home.

  It didn’t make her feel any better about him dating a woman named Lisa, but it did make her feel a bit better about everything else. Even a long day on the wagon didn’t seem so bad now that she knew Kyle would have a black eye while on television. Of course, there was a chance that Liz could work wonders with her make-up kit, but she hoped not.

  In fact, she happened to know that Liz’s kit was riding in the back of the chuck wagon with some of the other equipment that was too large to carry on horseback. Maybe if she accidentally bumped it and it fell off the back of the wagon...

  She knew she wouldn’t do it, but the thought made her smile nonetheless.

  Mark looked at her suspiciously. “Why are you sm-”

  He was cut off by a sudden shout.

  7

  The shout seemed to be coming from the far side of the wagon Jeremiah realized as he and the others raced toward the sound. They found Norman sitting on a small, folding stool with camera equipment all around him and a camera in his hands.

  “What is it?” Jeremiah asked.

  Norman looked up, watery blue eyes staring at him. “It’s gone,” he said.

  “What’s gone?” Kyle asked as he pushed his way through the growing crowd.

  “Yesterday’s footage. I was getting the equipment ready and I wanted to check the playback in a couple of spots, make sure the settings are working under these conditions, and I discovered that it was all gone. All of it’s been erased.”

  “Are you sure the camera was working properly yesterday and it actually filmed something?” Jeremiah asked.

  Norman glared at him. “Of course I’m sure. Besides, I checked it at lunch yesterday and then briefly last night as I was putting stuff away. I don’t know how this could have happened.”

  “Could you have accidentally hit a button?” Traci asked. “I know once with my camera-”

  “I am not an amateur or an imbecile!” Norman interrupted, pale cheeks flushing and voice raised in outrage. “I’m telling you this was no accident.”

  “But, who could possibly want to sabotage the footage?” Kyle asked, a blank look on his face.

  Jeremiah knew that he for one wanted to sabotage the footage, but it seemed somebody else had beaten him to it. He glanced sideways at Hank and couldn’t help but wonder if that’s what the big man had been doing last night while everyone was supposed to be sleeping.

  “This is a disaster!” Norman wailed and for a moment Jeremiah thought he was going to actually burst into tears.

  Kyle seemed to rally at that. “Hey, it’s all good, most of yesterday’s footage will look a lot like today’s footage. All we’ve lost is the start up.”

  “And the runaway horse,” Norman pointed out.

  Kyle sighed. “Is the footage from the helmet cameras secure? Hopefully we can just pull from those to get anything we need.”

  “I haven’t checked yet,” Norman said.

  “Well, why don’t you do that while we finish getting ready,” Kyle suggested.

  Norman sniffed and nodded.

  “Chow in ten minutes!” Brent called from the front of the wagon.

  “Alright, let’s get this done,” Kyle said, addressing the group who quickly began to disperse.

  Jeremiah half-turned, ready to double check his sleeping bag and his backpack once more before bringing them over for loading into the wagon for the day.

  “It will be okay,” Liz said sympathetically, dropping her hand onto Norman’s shoulder.

  Norman looked up at her, adoration in his eyes. She let her hand linger a beat, two, and finally pulled it away. Norman dropped his eyes back to his equipment and reached for the first helmet camera.

  “Everything okay?” Cindy asked Jeremiah.

  “Yeah,” he said, turning to her.

  They began to walk back to the sleeping area. She was limping, but moving better than he would have expected given how badly her ankle had been twisted. She was a fighter, whether she realized it or not. He thought of the discoloration already appearing around Kyle’s eye and couldn’t help but smirk. He couldn’t have done better himself.

  Of course, the rabbi part of him should gently remind her that violence wasn’t the answer, especially when dealing with relatives. But he’d wanted to hit Kyle the moment he’d met him so it would be more than a little hypocritical of him. It was clear, though, that Kyle had pushed a very big button with her. From what he could tell it had something to do with their dead sister.

  When they got back to civilization maybe it was time to have a talk with Cindy about Lisa. Actually opening up and talking about it might help her deal with her feelings about it a lot better. Most people had one or two topics that were taboo, that even bringing up could trigger strong
emotional outbursts. Instead of suppressing that pain it needed to be explored and then released. Maybe he could help Cindy do that.

  Back at the sleeping area Cindy set about rolling up her sleeping bag while he checked his backpack one last time. After the fiasco at the kid’s camp earlier in the year he had allowed himself to pack what he considered the bare essentials and not just what he had been told to bring. So, in addition to the required clothes and toiletries, he also had his Swiss army knife, some rope, a small but well-stocked first aid kit, a compass, waterproof matches, fishing line and hook, a few heating packs, some nutrition bars, and finally a wicked looking survival knife that he kept buried at the bottom of the bag. He had refused to be unprepared this time for any contingency.

  Next to him Cindy was trying for the third time to roll the sleeping bag tight enough that her ties would fit around it. He suppressed a smile as he watched her kneeling on it and straining to keep it as small as possible as she rolled it. She clearly was not used to them.

  “Do much camping as a kid?” he asked, trying to make a joke.

  She looked at him, her eyes suddenly haunted. “Once,” she whispered.

  He was taken aback by the raw pain on her face. He couldn’t help but wonder if he had inadvertently touched on something to do with her sister.

  “So, not a lot of slumber parties or church sleepovers?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

  She shook her head.

  “Would you like help rolling it up?”

  From the way she bit her lip he could tell that she wanted to say yes, but felt like she should probably do it on her own.

  “Here, this can’t be helping your ankle. I’ll take care of it,” he said, quickly moving to take the decision away from her.

  “Thank you,” she said, relief flooding her voice.

  She turned and busied herself with her own backpack while Jeremiah got to work rolling her sleeping bag. When he was finished thirty seconds later she stared at him.

  “How did you do that?”

  “Practice,” he admitted.

  “Show me how to do it that fast.”

  “Okay, tomorrow morning I’ll help you do it, fair?”

  “Fair,” she agreed.

  They heard the clanging of a metal triangle, the official call to breakfast.

  “It’s about time,” Mark said, walking up with Traci. “I’m starving.”

  They grabbed plates of hot, delicious smelling food, and sat on the ground a ways away from everyone else.

  “So, Traci,” Mark said, around a mouthful of bacon. “I thought today would be your golden opportunity to talk some with Kyle and find out more about him. I know you love his shows. This could be your one chance to really find out all the behind-the-scenes stuff that noone ever gets to hear about.”

  He was trying to sound nonchalant, but Jeremiah watched as the two women exchanged a quick glance and then turned to look at Mark, eyebrows raised.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You think someone killed Martin, too. Admit it!” Traci said with a note of triumph in her voice.

  “What? I never said...wait, ‘too’? So, you ladies have come to the same conclusion?”

  “Last night,” Cindy confirmed. “We don’t know if someone had a grudge against him or what.”

  “We went a step further,” Jeremiah admitted. “Given what happened to your horse, we were thinking that it’s possible someone is trying to sabotage the show or possibly even hurt Kyle.”

  “You think whoever killed Martin was really after Kyle?” Cindy asked, eyes round.

  “We don’t know, but everything that’s happened so far seems very suspicious to us,” Jeremiah said.

  Mark shook his head. “Okay, next midnight confab we’re all invited.”

  “I’m going to hold you to that,” Traci said fervently.

  Jeremiah tried to hide a smile. All of them had wanted Traci to have a fun and adventurous vacation. The prospect of a killer on the loose wasn’t dampening her spirits in the least. If anything, she seemed even more energized. It made sense, in a way. Unlike the rest of them she never got to be the one solving the mystery. After years as a cop’s wife now it was her turn and she seemed more than ready for the challenge.

  “Okay then,” Jeremiah said. “Today the name of the game is information. We need to find out as much as we can about everyone here. In addition to talking up some of the others I, for one, am going to be keeping a close eye on Hank. We still don’t know what he was doing out of his sleeping bag last night.”

  “Good idea,” Mark said. “If the answer is that he was just going to the little boy’s tree, I’m going to be very disappointed.”

  Traci cheerfully socked him in the arm for that one.

  Unfazed Mark continued, “Hopefully by dinner time we can begin to narrow our suspect list down a little bit. Traci, while you’re questioning Kyle, keep a sharp look out to see if there’s anyone interacting with him in an odd way.”

  She nodded eagerly.

  “When we stop for lunch we should also mingle with some of the others. It would be a good time to talk, get to know them better,” Jeremiah suggested.

  “Good idea,” Cindy said.

  “Yeah, if we start acting friendlier and like less of a little clique it will make people less suspicious and help them open up,” Mark noted. “Okay, let’s keep a sharp eye out for anything suspicious and alert each other if we think we’re onto something.”

  “Agreed,” Cindy said.

  They finished their breakfast, and returned their trays to the table by the wagon. Brent was already busy cleaning up and Jeremiah noticed that he gave Cindy a huge smile.

  He felt his spine stiffen. A moment later he realized his lips were curling, as though he was baring his teeth at the man. He shook his head and turned aside, telling himself he had other things to focus on at the moment.

  Everyone else was finishing up, too, and a moment later everyone was congregating around Norman and Kyle who were holding some of the helmets.

  “How did the helmet cameras fare?” Kyle asked Norman just as Jeremiah walked up.

  “Fine, except for one. It didn’t capture any footage at all. I’m not sure if it malfunctioned or it just wasn’t turned on,” Norman said.

  “Whose was it?” Kyle asked.

  “Jeremiah’s.”

  Kyle turned to Jeremiah with a frown. “You turned it on like I showed you, right?”

  “Yes,” Jeremiah lied.

  “Huh. That’s a shame, too. You were pretty close to Cindy when she fell off that horse, weren’t you?”

  “Pretty close,” Jeremiah said without admitting how close.

  “Well, let’s try the camera again today. I’ll make sure it’s on before we head out.”

  Jeremiah nodded fighting back irritation at the implication that he wasn’t able to turn a simple camera on properly. At least the one on his helmet was only showing what he saw and not his face. Still, he’d have to remember to turn it off again before he started talking to anyone, just as a precaution. He still planned to sabotage all the cameras anyway, but one could never be too safe.

  After about another fifteen minutes of preparation everything was loaded into the chuck wagon. Helmets were distributed and Kyle made a great show of making sure Jeremiah had properly turned on his camera. Jeremiah grit his teeth through the entire process. The cowboys brought the horses up and Jeremiah helped Cindy up onto her seat on the wagon bench before mounting and riding off.

  Traci waved to him before trotting her horse after Kyle’s. He had a feeling she would be sticking to him like glue all day. He turned away and his eyes zeroed in on Hank.

  In addition to the helmet cams everyone else was wearing, Hank also had a camera rig strapped to his left shoulder. He rode with reins in his left hand, leaving his right hand free to adjust the camera when he felt the need.

  It would have been easy for him to sabotage the footage while he was up in the middle of the night. T
he question was why? He hadn’t even been part of the original crew, but a last minute replacement. What could he possibly have to gain by hurting Kyle or the production?

  Jeremiah urged his horse forward. He had his work cut out for him today. In addition to questioning as many people as he could, he still had to act like he was trying to herd the cattle. Fortunately, multi-tasking came easily to him. Also fortunately, nobody was going to expect great things out of him since noone knew how well he rode. He had been fortunate in that he was pretty sure nobody had seen how he had pulled Cindy off her horse. Although thanks to Mark’s comment the night before he’d have to remember to act a little more stiff and sore tonight after dismounting.

  It was just one more thing to think about, to juggle. This trip was turning out to be more work and more stress than he could have ever dreamed.

  Cindy was more than a little unsettled by the thought that someone might be out to hurt her brother. The more she thought about it, though, the more it made snese. Cindy’s job that morning was to question Brent. Almost two hours into the morning drive she got her opportunity.

  “That sure is going to be a beautiful black eye Kyle will have in another day or so,” Brent said out of the blue as Kyle trotted by on his horse. He had been talking about his plans for food for the rest of the trip and how Kyle had thrown him the curveball of wanting it to seem like authentic grub while still being Kosher.

  “Sometimes Kyle can just get under a person’s skin, you know?”

  He chuckled. “Apparently he got under yours.”

  It was not the response she had been hoping for so she pushed a little harder. “Sometimes I think it’s me, that everyone else in the world thinks he’s a saint. I know my parents do. Maybe I am the crazy one.”

  “I don’t think everyone sees him as the golden boy he thinks of himself as,” Brent replied.

  “Really?” Cindy asked.

  “Really. Now, this is my first time working with him, but it’s not that big a network and you hear things sometimes.”

  “Like what?” she asked, not having to fake the eagerness in her voice.

  “I know poor Martin didn’t want to work on this show. He disliked working with Kyle because Kyle thinks of himself as the director and cinematographer of his shows instead of just the star.”