Blood Orange
Page 4
"You know I love you like one of my own, chiquita. What about that nice sheriff who came to take Tito away? I saw the way you looked at each other. There is a fire there waiting to explode."
Nora almost choked on the piece of omelet in her mouth. "Waiting to explode? I'm not about to explode with anyone," she giggled.
Quickly changing the subject, she continued, "The doctor will be setting up some appointments for Gramps. If they call, just take whatever dates they give you. I want him checked over as soon as possible."
Rosita took a chair at the table with her coffee, "Did the doctor say if he thought something was wrong with him?"
"No, it's basically his age and working too hard. He needs to let me do more or hire someone for the office work. Maybe both. Rosita, did you hear that low-flying plane last night?" Nora asked—changing the subject.
"I heard it alright," Gramps interrupted, coming into the kitchen. "That darn fool almost scared me out of my bed and Rex, too. We were ready to duck into the closet or under the bed. Poor old Rex was shaking so bad I thought he'd shake his fur off."
"I was sitting out on the porch and listened to it coming in. It flew right down over the Jessup's pasture. I waited for the sound of a crash, but then it flew right back up and away again. It was strange. There were lights from a car or truck over there, too, and it left right after the plane did."
Gramps had his mouth full of Rosita’s homemade biscuit, but still kept the conversation going. "It was probably some sky jockey showing off for his friends. Nothing for us to worry about," he mumbled around the breakfast he was still chewing.
"I'm going to take a ride over there and see if I find anything. I’d better check on Mr. Jessup while I'm there. He's all alone there at night."
"Good idea, girl," Gramps said. "Tell the old coot I said hi, and I'll be round once the oranges have been picked—another week or two maybe. I'll walk down to the packing house. You take the jeep."
Nora stood and took her empty plate to the sink. "No thanks, Gramps. I'm going to ride Jasper over. Pretty soon it will be too hot. He and I both need the exercise."
"Oh, exercise," Rosita said, throwing a dish cloth in the sink and turning to Nora. "You are too skinny now. A man wants something to hold onto. When I met Hector, he liked that I had a good figure. No man wants to make love to a pencil. They want a soft pillow to embrace. You put some meat on those bones, and you will get your man. I promise you."
Nora and Gramps tried to hold it in, but they both burst into gales of laughter. Glaring, Rosita stamped her foot, and took her ample frame out of the kitchen in a huff. But she stopped on the porch, and chuckled all to herself. She had helped raise Nora, and just as with her own children, she looked forward to grandchildren to spoil. She already had three grown children of her own and five grandchildren. Unfortunately, they were not living close and required a long plane ride to see them. Jose was in Texas and worked for an oil company. Rita was in Chicago. Her husband worked for one of the big Chicago newspapers. She could never remember the name of it. Rosalinda was her youngest and a talented dancer. She was up in New
York City, dancing her way around Broadway. She yearned for a baby to spoil. If only Nora would just cooperate, she thought. She walked off down to the little house she shared with Hector.
Chapter Six
Nora grabbed a full-brimmed felt hat off the peg by the door and walked out to the barn to saddle-up Jasper. "I'll see you at the packing house when I come back," she said.
"That leaves just you and me, old thing," Gramps said, scratching Rex behind the ears. The dog leaned into his knee with a look of contentment on his canine face.
"You fancy a ride to the packing house with me?" he asked Rex.
The dog ran from the old man to the door and then back again, wagging his tail. "An’ they say dogs don't understand English, huh?"
Jasper heard Nora coming, and whinnied a welcome. She unlocked the tack room and grabbed his saddle and bridle. She mentally thanked her parents for having her ride English so many years ago. The saddle was a lot lighter than the traditional Western saddle common on the farms and ranches. Resting the saddle on a rack by the stall, she gave Jasper his breakfast and some clean water. While he ate, she cleaned out his stall, putting the old straw in a wheelbarrow for disposal later. Throwing clean new straw around the floor, she finished the job.
"Okay, Jasper," she said, slipping the bridle over his head. "Let's go for a ride and do some investigating."
Nora walked Jasper out to the mounting block, looking forward to her ride. The Jessups had been neighbors to the Hollisters forever. She felt bad that she hadn't visited more often. She would ride over and check up on Henry Jessup, make sure he was okay, and then see what she could find in the pasture near where she had seen the plane and the headlights.
Jasper was good as gold as she led him to the mounting block, climbed the steps and swung her leg over. Putting gentle pressure on his sides, she urged the horse forward. Soon, she was cantering along the back road that ran alongside both properties. She was surprised to find the gate to the Jessup place wide open. Not a good thing when there are cattle on the property. She got a foreboding feeling as she closed the gate behind her. Goose bumps and a chill made her shudder. Even Jasper was reluctant to move forward. Reaching the front of the farm house, she called out, "Henry, are you home? Henry Jessup. It’s Nora Hollister." No answer.
She dismounted and tied Jasper to a branch of a nearby tree. "Henry, I'm coming in. Are you here?" Still there was no answer. Henry's shotgun lay at the bottom of the porch steps. She checked the chamber—still loaded. She picked up the gun, and pulled open the screen door, its old hinges squeaking.
The front room was dark. Heavy curtains covered the windows. Pulling them open one-by-one, she could see the room looked like a hurricane had been through it. It was then she noticed that Henry's recliner had blood on the arms and headrest. The cold chill came back, and she heard Jasper whinny. He was spooked, too. "Mr. Jessup, I'm here to help. It's Nora Hollister."
There was a trail of blood leading to the back of the house. Against her better judgment, she followed the drops to Henry's bedroom. The door was ajar. She slowly pushed it open, holding the shotgun ready in her hands. Her free hand flew to her mouth, stifling her scream. She almost dropped the gun. She wanted to run, but couldn't make herself move. Henry was on his bed . . . dead. He was on his back, blood obscuring the features of his face. It looked like someone had beaten the shit out of the old man. But why? He was just an old rancher who kept to himself, and never bothered a soul.
Nora backed out of the room and found her way to the phone in the hallway. Dialing 911, she tried to calm down enough to give the operator the details and get the sheriff. She was told not to leave and not to touch anything.
Sitting on the front porch steps with the shotgun across her lap, she put her head in her hands and cried tears of grief for her now-dead neighbor. The sheriff would be a while getting there, and she didn't want to be alone at this moment.
She went back into the house, and used the phone to call the packing house office. When Gramps answered, she told him what she had found.
"Oh my God! I’m sorry it had to be you that found him, Nora. I should have gone with you," Gramps said. "I'll come over straight away."
"Gramps, I think he was beaten to death. Who would do that to an old man?" she asked, wiping a tear from her eye.
"I don't know, Sweetheart, but we'll find out. I'm on my way." Gramps hung up the phone and walked out to Hector on the platform.
"I have to go over to the Jessup place for a bit. Take care of things here for me, will ya?" Gramps asked. Gramps went to his jeep and started the engine. Rex begged for a ride. "Not this time, Rex. I'll be back."
"Anything I can do?" Hector asked. It looked to him like something was wrong.
"Not right now, but thanks." Gramps took off and left—the dog watching him drive away down the road. Reaching the Jessup's back gate, he stop
ped the jeep and got out to open the gate. As he swung back the gate, his foot hit what he thought was a rock. Looking down, he saw a lock with a heavy chain attached. He picked it up, thinking old Jessup had lost it in the grass. Looking at it, he noticed that the hasp of the lock had been cut, maybe with a bolt cutter. Someone had come prepared and knew they would have to cut this lock off. Tossing the chain and lock in the back of the jeep, he pulled through and closed the gate behind him.
Nora watched as Gramps drove up, wheeled around the side of the house, and parked. She put down the gun and ran to her grandfather.
"Oh Gramps, it's awful," she cried. He gathered her into his arms and hugged her tight. Pushing away, she said, "I had time to think while I was waiting. What if this is connected to the plane and the car lights I saw last night?" She paced as she talked, walked over to Jasper, threw her arms around his neck and rested her forehead on his neck. Turning from her horse, "What if Henry confronted whoever it was? He had his gun out. I found it by the steps."
"That's for the sheriff to find out. Come sit down. They should be here soon."
Nora did as Gramps said. She picked the shotgun back up off the step and sat with it across her lap again. She didn’t think anything was going to happen where she needed a shotgun; it just made her feel better to have it.
Chapter Seven
"Here they come," said Gramps, standing up to greet the sheriff. Nora looked up as Sheriff McAllister and a deputy got out of his car.
“Oh great, here comes Sheriff Blue Eyes,” she thought. “Now try and keep your hormones in check,” she chided herself. Even if you do want to do something naughty, someone has been murdered. This is a crime scene, for gosh sakes.
"We meet again, Nora," Gabe said. "I don't often get greeted by a pretty girl with a shotgun in her lap when I go out on a call.”
Nora smiled slightly at the remark. She figured he was just trying to make her feel better. He moved slowly, and extended his hand to take the gun, which Nora gave up somewhat reluctantly.
“Are you okay?” he asked. Deep concern for her, and the situation she found herself in. showed in his eyes and on his face.
She stood and handed the gun to Gabe, stock first, barrel up. "It's loaded."
Gabe took the pump action gun and carefully unloaded it, ejecting all six shots on the ground. He turned to the deputy. "Alvarez, take the gun and pick up the shells. Have the crime lab look at it.”
"I have something else for you to look at," Gramps took the lock and chain out of the back seat of the jeep. "I found these in the grass by the back gate. Someone used a bolt cutter on the lock."
More cars were pulling up, some with police officers, and some with medical personnel. Dr. Connors from the coroner's office came over to introduce himself. "Hello, Sheriff, I'm Doctor Connors. I haven't had a chance to meet you yet. I could have done without meeting you here, like this. Henry Jessup was an old friend of mine."
"Thanks for coming out," Gabe put his hand out and shook the man's hand.
"Stay here," Gabe said to Nora and Gramps. He took the crime scene officers inside along with the coroner.
Nora and her grandfather sat in silence, waiting. Gramps pulled out his old pocket watch to check the time. Finally, after what seemed like hours, but was really only a few minutes, Gabe returned, followed by a stretcher carrying the battered body of Henry Jessup. Nora turned her head into Gramps’ shoulder to avoid looking at it.
"He was pretty beat up, but not enough to kill him," Dr. Connors said. "I'm guessing he had a heart attack or something. A younger man would have survived, but Jessup was in his eighties. I hope whoever did this is gonna roast in hell. I'll send you my report as soon as I can."
After talking to the coroner and issuing orders to the rest of the officers, Gabe returned to question Gramps and Nora. He stood with his hat in his hands, one foot resting on the bottom step.
"I'm very sorry about your friend. So, what made you come over here today?" He addressed his question to Nora.
"I came over to check up on Henry. Last night, I was sitting on the porch reading, before going up to bed. A plane flew over very low and caught my attention. After that, I saw some car lights in the pasture. It was late and didn't make any sense. I thought I better see if he was okay. It just seemed out of place to have lights in the pasture that late at night."
"You rode over here? Why not take the jeep?"
"Gramps was going to the packing house and needed the jeep. Besides, I like to ride Jasper when I can. I took the back road. I didn't expect to find this," she waved her hands in the direction of the house. "I thought maybe there was something wrong with his cattle. If his cattle were in trouble, maybe ours could be, too."
"Mr. Hollister, how did you come to be here?"
"Nora called me right after she called you guys. I came right over."
"How did you find the lock?"
"I came in the back way, too. I found it when I got out of the car to open the gate."
"The gate was open when I first came over. Ranchers and farmers don't leave gates open. I closed it behind me. It's a common courtesy around here," Nora offered.
"I see. I'm new around here, as you know. I'm a big city boy, transferred here from Tampa. I need all the help I can get to understand how things work here," Gabe commented. "Well, I guess that's all I need for now. Can I come around with more questions if I have any?" He was looking straight at Nora. She wanted to go swimming in those eyes.
"Sure, come around any time. Can I call you . . . if I see anything suspicious—that is?" she stammered.
“Sure, by all means.” He walked her over to Jasper. "Can I give you a hand up?"
"Does the city boy know how?"
"No, so just tell me what I need to do," he said, with an adorably goofy smile on his face.
She had to laugh, and his smile set her heart fluttering.
Nora turned, facing Jasper's side. Grabbing the pommel and the cantle of the saddle, she raised her left leg. "Just lift," she instructed Gabe.
He did as he was told. As she rose, she threw her right leg over, and settled softly in the saddle. Picking up the reins, she said, "I'll teach you to ride, if you want. It might come in handy around here. Lots of places you can't get to by car."
He placed his hand on her thigh. She felt the heat through her jeans. A little inappropriate, she thought, but who cares. She certainly didn’t.
"I'd love a ride with you. I mean yes, I'd love to learn to ride,” Gabe said, getting lost by her chestnut hair catching the sun and her hazel eyes flashing topaz sparks as she looked down at him from her saddle.
As she turned Jasper towards home, she was pleased to note that Sheriff Blue Eyes was blushing.
Gramps had been keeping an eagle eye on what was going on. He walked up beside Gabe. "Should I be asking about your intentions toward my granddaughter? Directing his question to Gabe, he raised his eyebrows. “I'm old, but I'm not blind."
"Mr. Hollister, I'll be honest. As soon as I figure out my intentions, you will be the first to know.”
"Fair enough," Gramps said, seating his large frame in the jeep. Gabe stood, watching as the older man drove back out the way he had come.
Gabe settled his hat squarely on his head and went back in the house. He had a crime to solve, and looking over the scene again on his own might give him some answers—or not.
He walked up to the steps and tried to recreate what might have happened in his mind. The gun was found fully loaded out here. Henry Jessup was found in his bedroom. There was blood on his chair in the living room. It all added up to the fact that Henry had taken his gun with him when he went to check on something.
Someone must have surprised him because he never got off a shot. Or he knew the person who had approached him. More questions than answers came to Gabe as he looked at the blood on the chair and the old man's bed. His mind was spinning as he started walking down to the pasture where Nora said she had seen the lights.
He was tryi
ng to stay in the shade of the tree line. He was half way down when he saw the tracks of a vehicle in the sparse grass. Nora had been right. There was a car here last night. He walked out into the open. There was a depression where something heavy had landed hard. What the hell was going on out here?
He took off his Stetson and wiped his forehead with an old handkerchief from his pocket. Placing his hat back on his head, he walked back to the house and his car.
Chapter Eight
A week later the coroner called Sheriff McAllister with his report. "What's up, Doc?" Gabe said and laughed. "I always wanted to say that."
"Yeah, yeah, like I haven't heard that one before," Dr. Connors answered. He sounded aggravated, so Gabe got down to business.
"I got more of the lab results in today. Henry Jessup was murdered, although probably not intentionally. Like I said at the beginning, a younger, fitter man would most likely have survived. Henry suffered a broken nose, black eye and the kicker was a posterior fossa hematoma, where the blood pools in the intracranial cavity," the doctor concluded.
"Okay the first bit I got, but explain that posterior thing."
"I believe he got hit on the head—which knocked him out. Whoever it was, got him inside, and when Henry came to, someone slapped him around, but the damage was already done. He was bleeding into his brain. He would have been able to walk to his room, thinking he only needed to rest, but he was already dying."
"Jesuss, Doc, the poor guy."
"He just went to sleep and never woke up. Unfortunately, it's not that uncommon. Even if he did survive the night, he was walking around with a time bomb in his head. I talked to Dr. Winters. Henry was on Coumadin for a slight heart problem."
Sitting on the edge of his desk, Gabe asked. "What's that Coumadin stuff do?"