Brazen

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Brazen Page 15

by Patricia Rosemoor


  “Point taken.”

  “Love you, Mom.”

  Siobhan hung up and took off for the barn, where she first checked on Warrior.

  “Hey, how’s my boy?” she singsonged to him.

  His ears perked up and he snorted, then he sauntered to the stall door and started lipping her clothing until he found the pocket where she’d stuffed the carrots.

  “Okay, okay, greedy boy.”

  Warrior seemed to be himself again, and when she held them out he scarfed up several carrots. Siobhan’s pulse began to thud as she realized she hadn’t connected with the horse about the poisoning incident. She’d spared him the upset because he’d been too sick. If Warrior could give her the identity of the person who had poisoned the buckets of feed, she might be able to do something to save Clay.

  Pressing her forehead to the horse’s, Siobhan focused, made the intimate connection. She met Warrior on a cerebral plane, one without words but with images. She concentrated on the carrots in her hand.

  In response, the horse brought her to a memory of Clay…

  Clay offered the horse a carrot, but Warrior was fearful and backed off. Clay then set the carrot on a nearby barrel and backed away. Hesitant, the horse eyed the human warily as he went for the treat.

  Clay repeated the bribe again and again, making Warrior follow him around the arena…

  Tears filled Siobhan’s eyes—he was everything a horse trainer should be—but she blinked them away. She tried again, this time implanting an image of the feed bucket filled with carrots and apples and laced with oleander.

  Warrior grew restless, and the only memory she roused now was of his being deathly ill. His hide shivered in response to her touching him, and Siobhan realized she was simply upsetting the horse by making him go back to that terrible day.

  She immediately let go of the image and let him mentally back off.

  Chances were Warrior hadn’t seen anything, either.

  Wanting to check out his recovery further, she decided to take him outside and into the corral where Chief and Garnet were already waiting for her near the gate.

  “How are you two?” she asked, hoping they’d suffered no lasting trauma from having to find their way home alone.

  Siobhan walked Warrior around the corral a few times and, once convinced he seemed himself, felt a huge sense of relief. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. In response, he lipped her hair and then snorted, making Siobhan laugh.

  “Silly boy,” she said, kissing his velvety nose.

  She next checked out Chief. He seemed sound. Relaxed. Hungry. When she pressed her cheek to his, she could see what he wanted. She gave him some carrots.

  “Good boy,” she murmured, turning to Garnet.

  “How’s your leg, sweetheart?” she asked, crouching down to check. Relieved that it looked fine—no reinjury—she stood and offered the old mare a few carrots.

  That was when it hit her.

  Because she’d been recuperating in the barn rather than in the corral with the other horses, Garnet hadn’t been poisoned. Recuperating and safe from the poisoned buckets…but where she might have seen something…

  Pulse fluttering, stomach twitching, Siobhan rested her head against the mare’s. Closing her eyes, she pictured the feed bucket again. Imagined the view of the corral through the open barn doors.

  It took a moment, but Garnet latched on to the image, and from there, the memory…

  KNOWING HE WOULD BE SUSPECT, and not just because he’d found Buck dead, Clay called in the murder and waited for the official team to arrive. Then escorted by one of the uniformed officers, he went directly to Sheriff Tannen’s office. The putrid-green walls were covered with maps of the area and a case board. File cabinets, a gigantic desk that had to be ancient and a couple of mismatched chairs were the only furnishings. Clay couldn’t help but feel claustrophobic as he related his and Siobhan’s quest to figure out how Jeff Atkinson had really died and whether it was connected to all the things going wrong on her spread.

  “Siobhan said something about Jeff the other night,” Tannen replied, “but she didn’t go into all this detail.”

  “Because you didn’t believe her. She decided we needed to find the proof before coming to you.”

  Clay finished his testimony. He didn’t leave out anything except how they got the plat survey from Galvan’s home office. He made it sound as if someone had given it to them.

  “While we were out on Siobhan’s property looking for this uranium late yesterday afternoon,” Clay told the sheriff, “someone took several shots at us and then drove off our horses. I thought it was Buck Hale. We were stranded until this morning when Jacy came and got us. I decided it was time to face Buck, get him to tell the truth.”

  “How do I know you’re not the one who took the knife to him to make him talk?”

  “You have my word. Besides, I brought a rifle. Why would I use a kitchen knife when I could just as easily shoot him? Go ahead and fingerprint me, if you want.”

  Tannen grunted. “You could’ve worn gloves.” The old sheriff stretched back in his chair, his piercing gaze on Clay. “Got any ideas on who could’ve done it?”

  “Paco Vargas comes to mind. The ex-con Buck hired straight out of the correctional center. Maybe he and Buck disagreed on their arrangement and Vargas killed him to settle the dispute.”

  “Now that would have been difficult,” Tannen said, swiping the long white hair away from his face.

  “Difficult?”

  “Considering Vargas has been cooling off in a jail cell since Friday night,” Tannen said. “He got in a fight over at the Gecko and broke a chair over Curly Hanson’s back. No court on the weekend, so he’s being arraigned first thing in the morning.”

  Well, there went that theory. Not that Vargas couldn’t have been responsible for some of the other things on the ranch. Like poisoning the horses.

  “Vargas might not have done Buck, but jail is where he belongs,” Clay said.

  Just then, the desk phone rang, and the sheriff held up a hand to stop Clay. He answered, “Tannen,” listened for a moment and then said, “Uh-huh. You’re sure about that? Okay, then.” Hanging up, he told Clay, “That was the medical examiner. He figures Buck’s been dead twenty-four hours, give or take.”

  Clay started. “That means—”

  “He’s not the one who used you for target practice yesterday afternoon.”

  Which left Raul Galvan, Clay thought. His mind raced. He’d heard Jacy say she was meeting Galvan in town for brunch. Surely he could find the man.

  “Am I free to go?” Clay asked.

  “You are for the moment. Only don’t go far. You’re not one hundred percent in the clear yet.”

  Clay got to his feet and again said, “I didn’t do it. You’ll clear me. In the meantime, you know where to find me.”

  Tannen nodded. “Oh, Clay…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t be getting any more ideas about solving this on your own. I wouldn’t want to see anyone else get killed.”

  “Me neither, Sheriff,” Clay said.

  Though he wasn’t about to promise to stop now, after everything he and Siobhan had been through.

  Driving through Soledad, Clay found Galvan’s SUV. He slowed and took a good look around, parked right next to the politician’s vehicle and hunkered down to wait.

  He supposed he should call Siobhan, inform her of the latest development—Buck dead and Vargas behind bars, if temporarily. Only he didn’t feel like talking to her just yet. He was still cooling down from that argument they’d had before Jacy had found them. Siobhan might be trying to drive him away for his own good, but he wasn’t buying into that.

  Eventually, he spotted Galvan coming down the street with Jacy. They’d just left a restaurant. Neither looked happy. They had to be arguing about something. Suddenly they both stopped, Galvan continuing to talk at Jacy until she shoved him in the chest away from her, jumped into her vehicle and d
rove off.

  Galvan stalked down the street, almost seeming to have a storm cloud around his head.

  Clay got out of his truck. He waited until Galvan was almost to his vehicle before stepping between him and the door.

  “We have some things to settle, Galvan.”

  Clay could see the politician was startled to see him, but he quickly recovered, asking, “Who are you, again?”

  “Clay Salazar. You remember, the other night I was with Siobhan McKenna at Desert Dreams Gallery, where we challenged you about uranium mining. You had your bodyguard escort us to the door.” Clay hesitated a moment before adding, “And oh, yeah, I was the man you tried to kill yesterday.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You followed us out past grazing land to the sandstone formations where you ambushed us.”

  “You’re out of your mind!” Galvan tried pushing by him to get in his SUV.

  Clay wouldn’t let him pass. He focused on the politician, caught his gaze, looked through his eyes to his soul…if he had one. Forcing everything else away, he examined Galvan with sharpened senses sort of the way he did wild horses.

  “And I suppose you don’t remember getting the plat survey for the Double JA? You’re really going to deny you knew there was uranium ore in the sandstone?”

  Galvan backed off, but Clay didn’t let up his intense gaze. His hearing fine-tuned, he caught the faint hiss of Galvan’s breath as he caved.

  “All right, I knew about the uranium. But I didn’t try to kill anyone. That’s just crazy talk.”

  “What did you plan to do with the information?”

  Galvan didn’t look guilty, but he certainly looked sheepish. Clay analyzed his tone as the politician said, “It’s the reason I’ve been courting Jacy—uranium could make a man wealthy enough to have whatever he wants.”

  “Jacy doesn’t own the Double JA.”

  “Perhaps not, but she’s the owner’s sister-in-law,” Galvan reminded him. “She has influence. I figured if there was ore on the property, she could convince the McKenna woman to let me buy that acreage. Or at least let me lease the mineral rights. Jacy didn’t respond to the idea the way I’d hoped. I believe you saw how angry she just was when I tried talking to her about it.”

  “Romancing a woman to get your hands on uranium? What else would you do, Galvan?”

  “Hey, I like money as much as the next man, but I don’t break the law. I work within it. If someone was trying to kill you, then look for another reason.”

  Throughout Galvan’s responses, Clay kept track of the man’s heartbeat. It remained as steady as his voice. He was halfway convinced Galvan believed his own words.

  Clay asked, “If you’re such a stickler for the law, then what about Paco Vargas?”

  “What about him?”

  “You were arguing with the ex-con in town the other night.”

  “I was warning him to stay away from Jacy after she told me the man was following her. I threatened to put him back in jail if he didn’t leave her alone.”

  Clay couldn’t help but believe him. Still, he asked, “And what about Buck Hale?”

  “What about him? I don’t know the man, never even met him. I only know Vargas was working for him.”

  If Galvan even knew that Buck had been stabbed with his own kitchen knife, he sure wasn’t showing any signs of it. Clay let go, let his senses return to normal. The world moved around him again. Sights, sounds, people crossing the street and getting in and out of their vehicles.

  Had he come to another dead end?

  Someone had shot at them. Buck had already been killed. Vargas had gotten himself thrown in jail. And Galvan was pretty convincing in claiming his innocence.

  The only suspect left was the one they’d ruled out first…apparently too soon.

  Early Farnum.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Garnet had seen it—the old mare had been witness to the whole ugly incident from her barn stall. Now Siobhan had seen the oleander leaves being added to the bucket, had seen the horses sicken after eating the poison, too.

  Still stunned, Siobhan didn’t know what to do. The only proof she had was the horse’s memory, and that wouldn’t be admissible in a court of law. In the meantime, she had to call Clay and warn him. Apparently, a cell phone had become necessary to her life, after all.

  About to go back to the house to make the call, she stopped when Jacy drove up and parked in front of the barn. Judging from her sister-in-law’s expression and jerky movements, she was mad as a hornet.

  Warrior nickered and shoved his nose into Siobhan’s spine.

  “Sorry, boy, the carrots are all gone.”

  The horse moved closer, his chest pressed against Siobhan’s back, his head draped over her shoulder, his cheek pressed against hers. She rubbed the horse’s nose as she watched her sister-in-law sweep into the barn. Barely breathing, she replayed an abbreviated version of what she’d seen through Garnet’s memory.

  …the workbench across from the stall…cut-up apples and carrots poured into several buckets…thick, leathery dark green leaves taken from a bag added to the mix…buckets placed in the corral…the satisfied smile on Jacy’s face as she left the corral to come back into the barn…

  …the horses eating…poisoned…Warrior near death…

  Siobhan snapped back out of the horrid memory just as Jacy stopped in the barn, seeming finally to notice Siobhan was just outside and watching her. As Jacy came out into the yard, Warrior let out a sharp snort and backed up, signaling his alarm. Siobhan realized she’d passed on Garnet’s memory to him and now he was wary of her sister-in-law, who was entering the corral.

  Did the horse understand that she had almost killed him, or was he reading her emotions?

  “What’s up?” Jacy asked, her expression neutral. “Are the horses okay?”

  Siobhan licked her lips. She wanted to lie, to walk away from the woman she obviously didn’t know at all, to go call Clay and then the sheriff and end this thing. But she couldn’t move, couldn’t leave her precious horses with this woman who’d poisoned them. God only knew what she might do to them next.

  “They’re fine,” Siobhan said, staring into Jacy’s lying eyes. She couldn’t help herself. “No thanks to you. Why did you do it, Jacy?”

  Jacy’s smile faltered. “Do what?”

  She knew, Siobhan thought. She was trying to act innocent, but there was nothing innocent about Jacy Atkinson.

  “Why would you poison our horses?”

  Jacy had mixed the oleander leaves into the buckets and then had set them out in the corral to kill the horses. What other evil deeds had her sister-in-law executed? Siobhan wondered.

  Was she responsible for everything that had gone wrong on the Double JA?

  “Poison the horses? Where in heaven’s name did you get an idea like that?” Jacy asked, her expression appropriately shocked.

  “From someone who saw you do it.”

  As far as Siobhan knew, Jacy wasn’t aware that she could communicate with her horses. She glanced around to see Warrior staring at the woman who’d poisoned him. Siobhan sensed his combined fear and hatred.

  Turning back to her sister-in-law, she asked, “Are you the one trying to destroy the ranch?”

  Jacy seemed about to deny it. Then she obviously changed her mind, because her expression shifted into something truly ugly.

  “It’s not the ranch I want to destroy, Siobhan, it’s you. You never loved Jeff, but still you married him. You weren’t even a real wife to him.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “You wouldn’t even take his name!”

  “I kept McKenna only with his blessing.”

  “Yes, of course. He would have agreed to anything to make you happy, even when you were throwing his love back in his face!”

  She’d never done that. She’d done her best to be what Jeff had wanted and needed. She’d done her best to forget Clay and put all her hopes for the future, for
a real family, into her marriage.

  “A lot of women keep their maiden names when they marry,” Siobhan said. “Mom was a McKenna all her life because my father died before they could marry. Jeff understood I wanted to keep the family name to honor her.”

  “Whatever. I really don’t care anymore.”

  “But obviously you do,” Siobhan argued. “Why? Because Jeff left the ranch to his wife instead of to his sister?”

  Jacy laughed. “You don’t understand. You never got it. The reason Jeff didn’t leave it to me was because I’m not a real Atkinson. I wasn’t Jeff’s sister.”

  Siobhan started. “What are you talking about?”

  “My mother was pregnant when Jeff’s father married her. Pregnant by another man. His father let me use the name, but he never formally adopted me. He treated me like I didn’t exist. Jeff and I weren’t related at all, but two siblings were never closer. And I do mean close, Siobhan. Intimately so. All those things you didn’t really want to do with him? I gladly did them all. I made up for what you wouldn’t give him.”

  Realizing Jacy meant sexual things, Siobhan whispered, “I don’t believe you.”

  Jacy strutted closer, her true nastiness unfettered by good manners or subterfuge. “We’d been doing those things since we were teenagers. You don’t think we stopped just because he married you, did you? Why do you think he agreed to marry a woman in love with another man? Because he was so crazy about you?” She shook her head. “You were our cover, Siobhan. Who would think to take a close look at us when he was a happily married man?”

  Unable to take this in, to believe that she’d been that big a fool, Siobhan shook her head. “Jeff loved me. I know he did.”

  “Eventually. You made him fall for you, then everything changed for me. Then he wanted to stop sleeping with me, wanted me to find a man who would take me away from the ranch. I was still too much temptation for him. He wanted you to love him the way I did. Jeff tried replacing me, Siobhan, but he couldn’t…he kept coming back to me, even when he said he didn’t want to. He was angry with himself, the reason he did what he did with the will.”

 

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