The others turned, and I thought I saw Eric flash him a look of warning.
“What hunts you back?” I asked.
“Mountain lion,” said Eric promptly. “There’s a big one around here. In fact it’s been killing some of T.J.’s stock.”
“Mountain lion, yeah,” said Jim with a snort.
Ken said, “I’d love to bag that big cat. I’d definitely have the taxidermist make a full body mount for that one.”
“That’d cost a fortune,” said Rick doubtfully. “And where would you keep it? Bet Linda would have a cow.”
“Nope, she’d have a lion,” said Ken with a grin.
“There can’t be very many mountain lions,” I said. “How do you decide which one of you gets to shoot?”
“We’re separating. T.J.’s going to drop us at the far corners of the ranch and we’ll hunt alone. There’s no telling where the cat’ll be. It’s fair that way.”
“The fences don’t stop mountain lions?” Even as I asked the question, I already knew the answer. I’d seen one leaping through the undergrowth myself and although he hadn’t soared over a fence, I had little doubt he could have.
Ken confirmed my thoughts. “Regular fences don’t even slow them down, and they can leap the high fences flat-footed. Besides, they get up in the trees and from there they can get about anywhere they want.”
At this, Jim said, “Have to be a mighty big tree.”
Ken shot him a glare that should have singed the hair off his mustache.
Puzzled, I asked, “What does that mean?”
“Nothing. Jimbo here doesn’t think a big cat needs to climb trees when it’s hunting, which is true. They stalk their prey. But they are climbers.”
The two men were still exchanging glances, but I decided to let it go. “So how do you know any are still here? Aren’t they just as likely to go to a neighboring ranch?”
T.J. and Kyla joined us in time to hear my question. Once again the men obligingly shifted to expand our little circle. Kyla rewarded them with a dazzling smile, and all of them immediately stood a little straighter. I noticed Eric visibly sucking in his gut, and I sighed inwardly.
“What are we talking about?” asked T.J. pleasantly.
“Lions,” said Jim promptly. “Jocelyn here wanted to know if they could escape to another ranch.”
T.J. just smiled. “I suppose they could, but the eating is pretty damn good here. At least one of ’em has been going through my whitetail like popcorn. Tonight’s the night to put a stop to that, and I think one of you boys is just the guy to do it.”
They all nodded, grinning and excited. Kyla frowned. “Tonight?” she asked. “But it’s already getting dark. There can’t be more than another hour of daylight left.”
“The darker the better,” said Jim with a wink at T.J.
“Mountain lions are nocturnal,” explained Ken quickly. “We’re far more likely to find one at night.”
“Ah,” said Kyla, shaking her head. “Well, just be sure you don’t shoot each other.” She smiled at me. “We probably better be getting back. It’ll be dinnertime soon.”
The men made a token protest, but it was obvious their minds were already on the hunt ahead. T.J. accompanied us to the front door.
I didn’t know what Kyla had asked or not, but I couldn’t pass up the chance to speak with T.J. “Did Kyla have a chance to tell you about Carl?”
He nodded, looking grim. “Terrible thing. I couldn’t believe it. He just didn’t seem the type to commit suicide. ’Course, I didn’t know him that well personally, but he did some work for me. Seemed like a nice guy.”
“Do you happen to know anyone else he was working for?”
T.J. frowned. “He worked for anyone who would hire him. He had a number of large trailers, and he was always hauling stock or arranging sales for folks around here. Why?”
“Jocelyn doesn’t think he killed himself,” said Kyla before I could answer. “She thinks his death has something to do with Eddy Cranny.”
T.J. turned to me. “That was a terrible thing, too. But I don’t see a connection, other than Eddy did some work for Carl.”
I wished Kyla knew how to keep her mouth shut. It wasn’t something I wanted to go into with T.J., but I supposed there was no harm in pooling our knowledge. “I saw Carl fighting with Eddy on the night he was killed, and I think the two of them might have been involved in something illegal.”
“Like what?”
I sighed. “That’s what I don’t know. I was hoping you might have heard Carl talking about something, or maybe know who else he was involved with.”
T.J. was already shaking his head before I finished talking. “Wish I could help you, but like I said, Carl and I weren’t close. I have no idea what he did when he wasn’t working for me.”
We walked to my car, and T.J. opened the passenger door for Kyla. I opened my own door, then stopped. “T.J., why did you let Ruby June stay here?”
He gave a wide grin. “Oh, you know about that already, do you? Hell, I don’t know. The girl needed a place to stay, I had plenty of room.” He gave a little bark of laughter and glance askance at the two of us. “Plus, I knew it’d piss your uncle off something fierce. Actually, I think that’s why Ruby came to me in the first place.”
Kyla smiled and laid a hand on his arm in either benediction or forgiveness. Apparently she was no longer worried about family loyalty. Funny what a good-looking guy could do to a sense of duty, I thought sourly.
I wasn’t all that worried about the pending feud, either, but I was puzzled by it. “But why? What has Kel done to you? Or vice versa?”
Still amused, T.J. shrugged and lifted his hands. “It’s just one of those things.” He looked down into Kyla’s eyes and then grew more thoughtful. “Nothing that can’t be mended at this point, though. Guess I might have to see if we can’t come to terms about a thing or two.”
She met his eyes squarely. “I think that would be really great.”
I sat down in the driver’s seat and closed my door. Kyla pushed the passenger door shut with one hip, and lowered her voice to continue her conversation with T.J. I turned on the radio at a low volume so I wouldn’t accidentally hear any of their drivel and stared out the side window into the gathering dusk. A small break in the clouds to the west admitted the last traces of the setting sun, casting an odd bronze glow across hills and trees. The leaves on the live oak to my left looked as though they were tipped with gold, and the shadows around the base deepened into a mysterious and impenetrable gloom. Something about November always seemed a little sad, a time of endings and reckoning, a time when the darkness came early. Around the corner was the merry warmth of Christmas, followed by the optimism of the New Year, and then spring. But right now, dusk had come to the day and to the year. And somewhere Eddy Cranny and Carl Cress lay cold and dead, and my uncle waited in a jail cell. I started the engine.
As we drove away, Kyla pulled down the sunshade to watch T.J. in the rearview mirror. He stood there until we rounded the first curve and vanished from sight.
“I like that guy,” Kyla announced.
“I noticed,” I said. “But why?”
“What do you mean? Have you looked at him? He’s gorgeous. And I like the way he looks at me,” she said.
I tried not to classify the small smile tugging at her lips as smug. “Everyone looks at you that way. Well, every man looks at you that way. But it’s not like you have anything in common with him.”
“We have more in common than you’d think.”
“Like what? You’re not exactly what I’d call an outdoor girl. I can’t exactly see you going out and bagging a trophy for the living room.”
She laughed and didn’t bother to deny it. “I don’t think that’s what T.J. is looking for. He’s got plenty of other people to do his bagging for him.”
“Then what?”
“Money for one thing,” she said, grinning. “We both love it.”
“And that’s a
basis for a solid relationship?”
“You might be surprised. The thing is, he’s making money the best way he knows. He’s not planning on spending his whole life on the ranch. He’s actually done quite a bit of traveling, and he’s looking to start investing.”
“Investing in what?”
She shrugged. “Real estate, I think. Having property—a paying property—out here is a start. He’s already got a downtown condo in Austin, and he’s living there half time. He comes out here when he’s got a big hunt on to make sure his guests are happy. I guess those guys in there are spending a small fortune—you’d never know it to look at them, would you?”
“You would if you looked at their cars,” I said, thinking of the yellow Hummer. “You can’t honestly be interested in him because of his money, Kyla. That’s so…” I struggled for the word.
“Cheap? Gold-diggery?” She laughed. “I’m doing all right on my own, if you haven’t noticed. And I’m not after him for his money, but a guy with ambition like that? Yeah, that interests me, and I’m not ashamed of it. Anyway, what’s your problem with him? You’ve never cared about the other guys I’ve dated, and a few of them have made Mr. T. J. Knoller look like a migrant farmworker.”
“One, it’s hard to keep up with all the guys you date. I’m not even sure I knew about the rich ones. But two…” And here I paused. What exactly was my problem with T.J. after all? Was it because he was a thorn in my uncle’s side and because he’d been so quick to accuse Kel of shooting someone? Maybe. Probably. But honestly, wasn’t that enough? “Two, what about Sherman?”
“What about him? We’re still just dating. He wasn’t interested in coming out here, and I wasn’t interested in going home with him. Not that he invited me,” she said under her breath.
“Ah, so that’s it,” I said. “Did you ever think that maybe he has reasons that don’t have anything to do with you? I mean, maybe his family embarrasses him or they don’t welcome outsiders. I don’t think you should hold that against him.”
“Why not? Anyway, you’re a fine one to talk. What about all your boyfriends following you around like puppies on a leash?”
“I’ve solved that problem. Besides, Alan and Colin aren’t suing our family.”
“I think that problem is solved as well. Besides, maybe you’re just jealous because T.J.’s not flirting with you,” she said in that special arrogant tone I hated so much.
This conversation had suddenly taken a nosedive back to those unpleasant high school days that I would just as soon forget. Not a good time in our relationship. I ground my teeth and said nothing.
A couple of moments later, I turned onto a rough caliche road with a crunch of tires on gravel and stopped at the very small and unadorned gates of the Smoke Quartz ranch. We both stared straight ahead for a moment, then Kyla opened the door.
“I’ll drop it if you will,” she offered.
“Deal,” I said.
She got out to open the gates. I knew I should feel relieved that we’d managed to avoid one of our frequent spats, but I didn’t. I should feel pleased for her to have found an interesting man to date, but I didn’t. The thought of her dating T. J. Knoller made me anxious, but I couldn’t figure out why.
Chapter 8
BREAK-INS AND BREAKDOWNS
Dinner preparations and family drama were both well underway when Kyla and I walked through the front door. A fire crackled merrily in the big stone fireplace, which looked almost like a child’s toy in comparison to the one in T.J.’s enormous house. Uncle Herman sat in a recliner drawn close to its glow. He’d popped out the footrest and sat ensconced in a fluffy throw, tumbler of amber whiskey reflecting the firelight like a jewel on the table beside him, telephone clutched between one furry ear and shoulder. With his oversize glasses and bald head, he looked more like Mr. Toad of Toad Hall than ever. He was shouting into the receiver, his volume a reflection on neither his own deafness nor any incipient anger but rather the distance of the party on the other end. The farther away someone was, the louder Uncle Herman felt he was required to speak. I wished I could blame it on his age, but it appeared to be an unfortunate Shore family trait. Conversations with my brothers in California could leave both parties hoarse for days.
“Goddamn it to hell, Johnson, are you the justice of the peace for this county or not? My nephew is in jail, and I want you to get over there and put a boot in the ass of that sumbitch Bob Matthews.”
I hung my coat on a hook near the door and slipped into the kitchen, leaving Kyla to deal with Aunt Gladys, who was bearing in from the left like a juggernaut.
In the kitchen, the horde of children was gathered around the table, some sitting, some kneeling on chairs to better reach the bounty in the center. Someone had set up a make-your-own dinner spread by tossing down a couple of loaves of white bread, two jars of peanut butter, three squeeze bottles of jam, and half a dozen sacks of chips, and the kids were up to their elbows in junk food. My brother Will was standing beside the stove watching the chaos with a bemused expression.
“It’s like feeding time at the zoo,” he remarked by way of greeting. “We could film this and use it for birth control commercials.”
“You don’t want to cause the human race to become extinct,” I told him. “We’re not eating this crap, too, are we?”
He gestured to the stove where a big pot bubbled gently, putting out a heavenly steam. “Nah, Elaine’s making gumbo, and the rolls should be done any minute. She left me to make sure they don’t burn.”
“And to keep the vermin from killing each other?”
“I have no orders regarding that, nor any incentive to prevent it from happening. Hey, how’s what’s-his-name doing?”
“What’s-his-name?”
“Yeah, what’s-his-name.”
I could never understand why members of my family were unable to remember names. “His name is Colin. And he’s okay, considering. They’re keeping him for one more night just to be safe. Where’s Sam?”
“He and Christy went for a walk, the cowards. I can’t believe they left me alone to deal with this.” His gesture seemingly encompassed not only the kitchen but the entire world.
“You’re hardly alone,” I pointed out. “The house is packed.”
“I’m alone if you count sane adults. Or I was until you showed up,” he added gallantly. “Have you noticed that everyone we’re related to is completely batshit crazy?”
“It had dawned on me,” I admitted. “What have they done now?”
“Uncle Herman hasn’t been off the phone since he got home from jail. Do you know what his very first call was?”
“To a lawyer to see about getting Kel free?” I suggested, although I knew that anything sensible was a long shot.
Will gave me a pitying glance. “Ha. No. To the racing commission. He wants his winnings.”
“What?”
“Yup. His point is that his horse crossed the finish line first. He wants the prize money, and he wants it now.”
“But someone shot his competition!” I protested.
“He doesn’t care.”
I pondered this in silence for a minute. At the table, the kids had gnawed through the sandwiches and had moved onto drawing faces in the peanut butter smears on their plates. I opened the cookies and stepped back just in time.
“How did Uncle Herman get that horse?” I asked. “Has he said anything?”
“Lips sealed tighter than an oil drum. I asked him outright, and he just looked smug.” Will suddenly lifted his head and sprinted to the oven. As he opened the door, the smell of baking bread expanded through the room like a puff of steam on a cold day and blended perfectly with the aroma of hot gumbo. My stomach rumbled appreciatively, and Will just looked relieved. “Elaine would kill me if these burned,” he said as he pulled them out.
“Why didn’t she just set the timer?” I asked.
“It’s broken.”
I frowned. “See? This is what I mean. Things are really
tight around here. I’ve never seen Kel and Elaine looking so worried, yet Uncle Herman somehow is able to buy a first-class racehorse from Carl Cress of all people. And Carl’s the type who would have cheated his own mother out of her dentures if he could have sold them for a profit. So how does that happen?”
“Wow, I thought you weren’t supposed to speak ill of the dead,” said Will with a grin.
“That’s not speaking ill, that’s just telling the truth. Carl probably would have been proud if he’d overheard. Anyway, I’m serious. Where did Herman get that kind of money?”
“Who said he did?” asked Will. He turned off the oven, and leaned against the counter. “There are other transactions besides the cash kind.”
I looked at my brother with surprised respect. Sometimes I forgot that the snotty-nosed little pest of my childhood was now a financially savvy if somewhat cynical little pest. “Like what for example?”
“There’s always bartering. My goats for your horse. But I was actually thinking something a little less direct. Blackmail springs to mind.”
“Blackmail? What kind of blackmail?”
“Well if I knew that, Carl would hardly have gotten his money, or rather his horse’s, worth, now would he?”
“So for example, Carl did something dodgy, and Herman found out about it? Then traded his silence for Big Bender?” My voice squeaked a little in combined disbelief and consternation.
“That’s my best guess,” grinned Will. “Do you have a better one?”
“I don’t have any problem believing Carl did something blackmail worthy,” I admitted, “but…”
“But what? You have a problem believing our beloved relative would stoop to blackmail?”
“No, not exactly that either. But what could Herman possibly have found out that would have embarrassed someone like Carl, who I overheard bragging about cheating someone on a lumber sale not two days ago. And how would Uncle Herman have found out anyway? It’s not like he gets out of the house a lot.”
Will shrugged. “You’re wrong there. I know when we’re not here he drives into town every morning and has coffee and breakfast with his cronies.”
Death Rides Again (A Jocelyn Shore Mystery) Page 19