by Ruth Langan
Hazard shrugged. “Let’s just see how the evening goes.” He could see Erin staring around with a look of pure fascination. It occurred to him that she had probably never been in a bar before. At least not one as rough as Clancy’s.
“So?” He pulled his chair closer and dropped an arm around her shoulders. “What do you think?”
“It looks pretty much the way I expected. Maybe a little darker. Certainly a lot smokier. But the music is good. And everybody seems to be having a good time.”
“So you don’t mind staying awhile?”
“I think I’d like to see if Ace can beat that cowboy.”
“Not ‘if,’ doc.” Ace was already digging through his second bowl of chili. “It’s a foregone conclusion that I’ll beat him.”
Chance groaned and caught his wife’s hand. “Come on, Maggie. It’s getting thick in here. Let’s go visit Thelma.”
“You’ll be sorry.” Ace shoved the empty bowl aside. “Maggie, you’ll miss seeing the master make his moves.”
With a snort of laughter Chance turned to Hazard and Erin. “When you two get tired of watching the hotshot do his thing, come on down the street and join us at the diner.”
Chance and Maggie strolled out arm in arm.
Ace watched his brother with a frown, then turned to Hazard. “Okay. I’m fortified now. I think it’s time to issue a challenge.”
As he sauntered toward the pool tables, Erin snuggled closer to Hazard. “He’s really cute.”
“Cute?” Hazard shot her a look of disgust. “When he was a kid, he was a royal pain in the—” He caught himself and said simply, “It’s a good thing he was successful in the mining business. Otherwise, Chance and I are convinced he’d have become a professional pool hustler.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re joking.”
He shook his head. “Think about it. Mining is really just gambling, but on a bigger scale. Instead of risking a couple thousand, you risk a couple million. And that suits Ace perfectly. The higher the stakes, the more his adrenaline pumps.”
They watched as Ace spoke to the cowboy. Minutes later a new game was started. Ace and his opponent were chalking their sticks and studying the balls, while the guys at the bar gathered around to watch.
On the fringes of the group, Russ Thurman was making bets of his own.
Within minutes Ace missed a crucial shot. With a look of triumph the cowboy sank the ball, then went on to run the table. With a great show of reluctance, Ace reached into his pocket and removed a bill.
Behind him, Russ Thurman was forced to pay off his debts. His face mirrored his disgust.
Erin turned to Hazard with a look of surprise. “Ace lost? I thought he was good at this game?”
Hazard merely smiled. “He is. But he can’t make it look too easy, or in a town this size, he’d soon run out of opponents. So he has to lose often enough that they’ll come back for more.”
“You mean he lost on purpose?”
Hazard nodded. “Now watch what happens.”
While they watched, Ace started to walk away. The cowboy called after him and pulled some money out of his pocket.
“I’ll give you one more chance, Wilde. Double or nothing,” the cowboy challenged.
Ace glanced over at Erin and winked before turning to face his opponent. “Well, why not?” With absolutely no expression he reached into his pocket and matched the cowboy’s money.
The men behind him made bets of their own. Russ held back, trying to decide whether to risk any more of his paycheck. Finally he nodded and came out of his pocket with another bill.
Minutes later the second game ended much like the first, with Cole Benson winning.
As Ace started away, Benson was grinning with self-importance. “Sorry about that. How about another game? This time for some real money.”
Ace paused. “How much?”
Cole Benson shrugged. “How much you got?”
Ace pulled a bill out of his pocket. “All I’ve got left is this hundred.”
“Okay.” Benson matched it.
The two men chalked their sticks. This time, when Benson missed a shot, he moved aside to watch in openmouthed surprise as Ace ran the table, dropping every ball in sequence. His opponent never even had the chance to make another shot.
“Thanks, pal.” Ace picked up the two hundred dollars and stuffed them in his pocket before returning to the table.
One lucky cowboy gave a hoot of laughter as he began collecting from those who had bet against Ace. Among the unhappy losers was Russ Thurman, who slapped his money down, then stormed out of the bar with a look of seething fury.
At their table Ace turned a chair around and straddled it. “So? What’d you think, Doc?”
She shook her head. “Hazard said you lost that first game on purpose.”
“And the second.” He chuckled. “It’s all part of the con. Now you’ve seen the game of eight ball. And you’ve seen my opponent scratch, and you’ve watched me run the table.”
“Thanks for the lesson.”
“You’re welcome. A hustler has to have a certain finesse.” He waved a hand. “You know. Some smooth moves.”
His hand swept the long-neck on the table, sending it toppling over, spilling beer down Erin’s sweater and jeans.
“Oh.” She scooted her chair back, but it was too late. Beer spread across her stomach and trickled down one leg.
“Hey, I’m really sorry.” Ace jumped up and grabbed a paper napkin, then, with a flush of embarrassment, pressed it into her hand.
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll clean it up in the ladies’ room.”
As she walked away, Hazard slapped his brother on the shoulder. “Yeah. Now that was some finesse, Bro. Really smooth moves.” To Erin he called, “We’ll wait for you by the door.”
She made her way past the bar, then opened the door marked Ladies. Inside she nearly bumped into Beryl Spence, who was standing in front of the sink. When she looked closer she realized Beryl was gripping the edge of the sink with such force her knuckles were white. Despite her pallor, she was sweating.
Erin paused beside her. “Are you sick?”
“No. I just—” The young woman sucked in a breath. “I need my insulin. I started feeling weak and came in here to give myself an injection. But I can’t find my syringe.”
“Where is it?”
Beryl shrugged. “I thought it was in that duffel bag.” She pointed to the canvas bag resting on the floor by her feet. “But I just checked, and it’s not here.”
Erin dropped to her knees and began rummaging through the bag. “Do you carry a spare?”
The young woman nodded. “In my purse. It’s locked up in the liquor room. Ask Benny. He’s the guy behind the bar. He’ll get it for you.”
Erin made her way to the back of the bar and approached the man who was both cook and bartender. “Beryl sent me out here for her purse.”
He nodded and disappeared in a back room, returning minutes later with a navy backpack. Erin carried it into the ladies’ room and handed it to Beryl. By this time the young barmaid was bathed in sweat.
With trembling fingers she opened her purse and took out the syringe. With the ease of one who had been doing this for a lifetime, she measured the amount of insulin, then pressed the needle to her arm and pushed the plunger. Then she leaned against the wall and waited, knowing the weakness would soon pass.
“Are you all right?” Erin hesitated, reluctant to leave her alone.
“I’m fine. Thanks a lot. I really appreciate your help.” Beryl gave a shaky laugh. “I know better than to let it go like that. But I got busy. And then I figured I’d just duck in here and give myself an injection. When I couldn’t find my syringe, I got a little panicky. Sorry for the case of nerves.”
Erin touched a hand to her arm. “No need to apologize. I’d be shaky, too, if I couldn’t find something as vital as insulin.” She paused. “Have you had this all your life?”
Beryl nodded. “I was
diagnosed with diabetes when I was just a kid. But I’m one of the lucky ones. I take good care of myself. Don’t drink. And don’t usually eat the wrong things, like I did today.” She shook her head. “But I’m really starting to get forgetful. I’d have sworn I had my insulin and syringe in this duffel. It’s been happening to me a lot lately. Not very smart, when you consider how important it is to me.” She drew in a deep breath and picked up the duffel bag, slinging it over her shoulder. “Got to get back to work. Thanks again.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad I chose this minute to come in here.” Erin glanced down at her jeans and realized she’d completely forgotten about the spill.
She shrugged. It had already begun to dry. She would just toss everything into the washer when she got back to the ranch.
As she stepped out of the ladies’ room she saw Beryl hang the duffel on a hook beside the bar, before heading to the back room to lock up her purse.
Then she saw Hazard waiting for her at the door. Their gazes met and held. And as she walked toward him her mind seemed to empty. Her body warmed the moment his hand touched hers. And as they walked out into the night, she felt a ripple of pleasure at the thought of what they would share this night when they returned to the ranch.
Chapter 14
“Hey, Cody.” Ace looked up from the breakfast table as the old cowboy came in from the barn. “You missed my performance at Clancy’s last night.”
“Who was the victim this time?” Cody hung his hat and made his way to the table.
Maggie passed him a platter of steak and eggs.
“Cole Benson. Been helping out at the Marshall place during calving season.”
“Long way from home. How much did you win from him?” Cody cradled the mug of hot coffee between both his hands.
“A hundred. But I had to spend thirty before I could reel him in.”
Cody shook his head. “You’ve got some smooth moves, son.”
“Yeah.” Hazard chuckled. “Ace is so smooth he spilled beer all over Erin.”
“There was no damage done.” She sipped her juice. “I tossed everything in the washer and dryer when we came home last night, and they’re as good as new this morning.”
They looked up when the phone rang. As Hazard crossed the room, everyone fell silent.
“Yeah?” He listened, then frowned. “Cody and I will be right there.”
He slammed down the receiver.
“How many?” Chance asked.
“The most yet. More than a dozen. And the count isn’t complete.” He strode to the door. “Come on, Cody. Let’s roll.”
The old cowboy gave a last glance at his half-finished breakfast, then shoved away from the table.
When they were gone, Ace tossed down his napkin and swore. “That herd means the world to Hazard. He’s been busting his—” he glanced at Erin and Maggie and finished “—hide for more than a year now. He was so sure it was the way to go in the future. And now it’s all falling apart.”
Chance nodded and pushed aside his food. “What the hell is causing all those calves to die?”
They both glanced at Erin. She shook her head. “I came here thinking this would be a simple problem, with a simple solution. And I haven’t been any help at all.” She pushed away from the table. “Thanks for breakfast, Maggie. I have to get to the lab.”
While the others watched, she hurried away.
“Erin?” Maggie poked her head in the lab.
Erin looked up from her notes.
“Ace took the helicopter over to WildeMining. He’ll be gone for the day. Chance and I are driving up to Tower Ridge to meet with the architect and builder. We’ll be home in time for dinner.”
“Okay.” Erin nodded idly as she returned her attention to the specimen under the scope.
She was only vaguely aware of the sound of doors opening and closing. Of the sound of Agnes’s TV game show on in the background as the old woman went about cleaning the various rooms.
As she studied the patterns of blood under the scope, she found herself thinking about Beryl Spence, pressing the syringe to her arm. Of her gradual gain in color as the life-saving insulin pumped through her body.
It was amazing, she mused, that something that had once been manufactured in the bodies of pigs and cattle, could breathe life into millions of human beings.
Insulin. She had a sudden flash. It could not only restore life to those who didn’t have enough of it, but, given to those who had no need of it, it could also snuff out life. Without a trace. What was it that Cody had said when she’d first seen the dead calves? There was no animal that could kill another without leaving blood. A wrong conclusion, she realized. But one she’d accepted at the time. Now she knew better. There was one animal that could kill another in a bloodless fashion—man.
With quickening pulse Erin placed a sample of blood serum from one of the dead calves under a second scope, and began running tests specifically for insulin.
By the time she’d completed a second set of tests, she dialed Hazard’s cell phone number, quivering with excitement.
“Yeah?” Hazard was kneeling in mud and dung, examining yet another dead calf, when he snatched the phone from his shirt pocket and uttered the single word greeting.
Peterson and the wranglers were standing and kneeling around him, examining the carcass in search of clues.
“Hazard?” Erin’s voice sounded breathless.
“Sorry.” At once his tone softened. “Didn’t mean to snarl. It’s just that it’s worse than I figured. So far we’ve found sixteen. And the count could get a lot higher.”
“Hazard. Listen.” Erin struggled to hold her emotions in check. “I could be all wrong here, but I think I’ve found a connection.”
“A connection?” His head came up. He realized he’d nearly shouted.
Peterson and the others stopped what they were doing to watch and listen.
“Do you remember what I told you about Beryl Spence needing insulin because she’s diabetic?”
“Beryl?” His eyes narrowed. “What’s this got to do with Beryl Spence?”
“I just tested the tissue samples for insulin. I did more than one, to make sure it wasn’t a fluke. Every one tested positive. That’s what is killing your calves, Hazard. They’re being injected with insulin.”
“And you think Beryl is injecting them? How would she manage it? And why?”
Erin ran a hand through her hair in frustration. “I don’t know the answers to those questions. She seems like such a sweet girl. But I think it’s just too much of a coincidence that she is insulin dependent, and your calves are dying from insulin injections. Think back, Hazard. Maybe she has a grudge against you for some reason. Maybe she’s just deranged. At any rate, I think you should notify the sheriff and have him meet you at Beryl’s house.” She swallowed. “It could be a wild-goose chase. Or it could lead you to the solution to this mystery.”
“You’re right, of course.” He nodded. “Cody and I will head into town right away. I’ll phone the authorities from the truck.”
“While you do that, I’ll e-mail Dr. Wingate and run everything by him for verification. If there’s a flaw in my theory, he’s the one who will find it. Oh, Hazard—” her voice nearly quivered with excitement “—I’m hoping this is the answer.”
“Yeah. Me too.” He decided he didn’t care who overheard him. “I love you, Dr. Ryan.”
He disconnected, then motioned for Cody. “Come on. We’re heading into Prosperous.”
He strode away, with Peterson and the others staring after him in stunned silence.
Erin blessed the years of disciplined study that had brought her to this point in her life. Without it, she wouldn’t be able to keep on working. Not when so many questions were whirling around in her mind, demanding answers.
As she tested yet another tissue sample and raised her head from the scope to make meticulous notes, the questions surfaced.
What would make a sweet young woman like B
eryl Spence decide to inject calves with insulin? And why these particular calves? She would have to hate the Wilde family, and Hazard in particular, to do such a thing. But she hadn’t acted like someone who hated them. Unless, of course, she was an excellent actress.
Besides motive, there was opportunity. When would she have time to do this without being seen? How would she get up to the range where the herd was kept?
So many questions. Too many. She bent once more to the microscope.
“Figured I’d find you in here.”
At the sound of Russ Thurman’s voice, Erin looked up. He was standing in the doorway, his hands hanging loosely at his sides. He was breathing hard, as though he’d been running.
“Hazard sent me to fetch you up to Peterson’s right away.”
It took her a moment to gather her thoughts. “He said he was going to town.”
“Yeah. He is. But by the time he gets back, he wants you to have some more samples from this latest batch of dead calves.”
“Oh. Yes. Of course. That makes sense.” She carefully removed the samples she’d been testing and placed them in their containers before returning them to the refrigerator. Then she packed her satchel with the usual supplies. A sterile cloth, a surgical knife and several plastic bags, as well as labels and a marking pen.
“Come on. You’re wasting time.” Russ stood in the doorway, tapping his foot in frustration.
She deliberately ignored him.
When she closed the satchel she turned. “I’ll just go tell Agnes I’m leaving.”
“There’s no need.” He moved aside as she swept past him and started along the hallway. “I already told her.”
When they entered the great room, Erin glanced around. “I thought you said you’d already informed Agnes. Where is she?”
“She was outside. Just heading toward the bunkhouse.”
“That’s odd.” Erin glanced around. “She left the TV on. That’s not like her. She’s always so insistent on saving electricity.”
“Old biddy’s getting absentminded.” He closed his hand around Erin’s wrist. “Let’s get a move on.”