by Paty Jager
Shandra slid closer to Ryan and stared at the computer. “How did Dicky die?”
“A barroom fight.” Ryan glanced at her. “What are you thinking?”
“If Walter didn’t want Dicky blackmailing him anymore, having him die in a barroom brawl wouldn’t have looked like murder.” Shandra wondered if one of the people in her dream who was beat up hadn’t been her father but Dicky. “How do we prove that Walter also had Father drugged?”
“You’re leaping to conclusions. We don’t know that Walter had Harmond killed, and we don’t know that he pre-meditated your father’s murder. Though he did make sure Edward rode a horse known to stomp its rider.” Ryan ran a hand across the back of his neck.
Shandra had learned that tell-tale sign meant he was frustrated. “Here.” She sat up on her knees and massaged his thick neck. It was the least she could do since it was her troubles that caused him tense muscles.
“Jessie said she wouldn’t have anything to do with Dicky because he beat women. But she clearly had to have had some connection to him to bail him out of jail.” Shandra leaned over Ryan’s shoulder. “Can you dig into Jessie’s background more?”
“I can, but it’s hard to concentrate with you leaning over my shoulder.” Ryan placed a hand behind her head and drew her down into a kiss.
It wasn’t the first time they’d kissed, but it was the first time she felt more than pleasure. It was a connection of sorts. I could have this every night if I gave in. Before her body melted into his lap, she drew back. “I think it’s time for me to go to bed. Good night.”
He released her. The twinkle and heat in his eyes said he’d felt her resistance falter. “Good night.”
Shandra kept her feet from running as she headed to her bedroom sanctuary.
Sheba woofed.
“I’ll get her!” Ryan called.
Five minutes later there was a knock and the door opened. Sheba bounded into the room, jumping into the middle of the bed.
Ryan stuck his head around the door. “I tried to get as many snow balls off her feet as I could.”
“Thank you. She’ll pull off any you missed with her teeth and eat them. That’s why I have this waterproof blanket on the top of my bed.” Shandra flipped the top blanket a bit.
“That’s a good idea. Okay, well, good night, again.” Ryan peered at her a moment.
“Good night, again.” She wasn’t ready to invite him into her bed. She cared for him, but was still hesitant after her last disastrous relationship.
His head disappeared and the door closed. Shandra drew in a deep cleansing breath and turned out the light.
***
Ryan returned to the great room and the couch where his computer had Jessie Preston-Lawyer’s life blinking on the screen. His feelings for Shandra were strong enough he could stay out of her bed until she was ready to invite him. He knew something in her past had her shying away from her feelings toward him. But since he wasn’t ready just yet to settle down, he was willing to wait her out.
Scanning the police records where Jessie lived, he noticed police were called to the hospital for a possible domestic case. Jessie’s name was linked to Harmond’s. He had beaten her up at one point. He cross-checked the dates she bailed him out. She’d bailed him out before he beat her up. But did she have a big enough bone to pick with Edward to give him the benzodiazepine? And how were they going to prove she did?
***
The next morning Ryan was up before Shandra. He made his coffee and put the tea kettle on to boil. He stuck his head in the fridge looking for ingredients to make an omelet.
“Good morning. You’re up early,” Shandra said.
He glanced over his shoulder. She was still in her PJs. Her hair was mussed, and he was glad he had cold air blowing on his body.
“Morning.” Ryan continued digging in the fridge, pulling out eggs, cheese, ham, and broccoli. “Your water should be hot.”
“Thanks.” She made her tea and sat at the counter. “Did you discover anything more last night?”
“Yes. Harmond at one time put Jessie in the hospital. After that is when she stopped bailing him out of jail.” He placed the ingredients on the counter next to the stove. With his back to Shandra, he said, “I called in and requested a couple days off. Starting tomorrow.”
“It won’t take that long to get a tree. Why would you need more days off?” Shandra asked.
“We’ll get the tree this morning, then we’re headed to Nespelem.” He faced her. “We need to talk to Jessie. She is the only person I can think of who could have given your father the benzodiazepine, and then would have posed as your mom and told the police and coroner he was taking painkillers.”
Shandra stared at him for a long time. He hoped she didn’t think he was just trying to get in her family’s good graces. He wanted to get to the truth for her sake.
“I’ll need to call my aunt and make arrangements for us to stay at the ranch.” She left the kitchen without another word.
Ryan continued making the omelets and wondered what was going through her mind.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Shandra sat in the passenger side of the Jeep as they raced down the interstate toward the Colville Reservation and possibly the end of her quest to find out who killed her father. Something in the back of her mind kept trying to come forward, but she couldn’t quite get the information to appear.
“Do you have Jessie’s address?” Shandra asked. “I don’t know how early she goes to the Ketch Pen.”
“I have the address.” Ryan glanced over at her. “I’d feel better about this if Sergeant Quinn would call with the information about who hired that detective who followed us. If it’s Jessie, we’d have more to lean on her with.”
“Maybe by the time we get there, he’ll call.” Shandra sat up straight, willing Ryan’s foot to press harder on the accelerator, so they would get there sooner. She had a sense of urgency and wasn’t sure why.
They crossed the Grand Coulee Dam and soon buzzed by the Agency and the Community Center. She saw Aunt Jo’s pickup in the parking lot. Aunt Jo said she had to work but would be home by four. It was three now.
“Are you familiar with the area?” Ryan asked.
“No. Not really. Let’s try the Ketch Pen first. If she’s not there, we can ask for directions to her house.” Shandra gripped the arm rest on the door. Why do I feel like something bad is going to happen?
“Turn up here. There it is. That square building on the corner.” The Ketch Pen sign made it obvious which building was the tavern.
Ryan parked and glanced over at her. “How do you want to do this? Both go in at the same time or you go in and if you don’t come back out, I’ll know she’s in there and come in for back up?”
“I like going in separate. I think if two of us try to talk to her she won’t cooperate.” Shandra reached out to Ryan. He put his hand in hers. “I don’t know what we’ll find out, but I feel like time is of the essence.”
“I’ll give you five minutes then I’ll come in.”
Shandra nodded, released his hand, and stepped out of the Jeep. She wasn’t sure Jessie would remember who she was, but the bartender and owner would remember her and know she’d upset his patron on her previous visit.
She walked up to the door, glanced over her shoulder at Ryan, and gave him a weak smile before entering the dark building. She decided this time she’d tell Jessie the truth and see what came of it.
As she’d predicted, the bartender took one look at her and started to bristle. Shandra held up a hand as she approached the bar. “I’m not here to cause trouble. My name is Shandra Higheagle, I’m Edward Higheagle’s daughter. Is Jessie here?”
The bartender stared at her a moment then his features softened. “You were digging for answers about your father the last time you were here.”
“Yes. This time I’m not playing games. I need to ask Jessie some questions about that day.” Shandra hoped this man had a soft spot for her father
.
“She won’t be in until six. You can probably find her at her house.”
“Where is that?”
“Go left three blocks and follow that road all the way out to the place with a red barn and arena with barrels in it. You can’t miss it.”
“Thank you.” Shandra pivoted to the door, leaving the yeasty scent of beer, the stale grease, and unwashed bodies behind as she stepped out into the fresh air.
Ryan was just closing the door on the Jeep. He walked over to her. “I thought she was in there you took so long.”
“No. The bartender gave me directions to her place.” Shandra opened her door and climbed in. She gave the directions to Ryan, and before long, the red barn and arena came into view.
“There it is.” She pointed to the drive leading down to a small, faded green house. It didn’t appear too run down, but the house could use some paint and there were brown piles of weeds in the area between the house, arena, and barn.
The lights were on in the house.
Shandra stepped out of the vehicle before Ryan had the engine turned off.
“Whoa,” he said, grasping her arm, keeping her from striding up to the door. “Take a deep breath and don’t go accusing this woman of anything. Tell her who you are and slowly see if you can get her to talk about your father and his last day.”
Shandra nodded as her heart beat faster. Jessie had to want to unburden herself after all this time.
They walked up to the door and Ryan knocked.
“Just a minute!” Jessie called out.
Shandra scanned the area, wondering where Jessie’s husband was. Maybe in the house as well.
The door opened. Jessie appeared along with the nostril-burning, secondhand smoke that seeped out onto the porch. Her hair was in the style Shandra saw at the Ketch Pen. In the light from the house, she discovered the color was blonde with gray.
“What do you want? I don’t give to churches or charities,” Jessie said.
Good. She doesn’t recognize me from before. Shandra held out her hand. “Mrs. Lawyer, I’m Shandra Higheagle, I believe you knew my father, Edward Higheagle, and my mother, Celeste.”
Jessie barely touched Shandra’s extended fingers and backed into the house. Shandra followed from the pressure on her back by Ryan, moving her into the warmth and light.
“What do you want with me? Just because I know them doesn’t mean I can help you with anything.” Jessie backed to a chair and sat down.
“I’ve been curious about my father’s death.” Shandra stared into the women’s eyes. “I don’t believe it was an accident.”
Jessie inhaled air, coughed, and grabbed for a pack of cigarettes on the table. “Why don’t you believe it was an accident? That’s what the police said.”
Ryan’s phone beeped. He glanced at it and tapped Shandra on the shoulder. “Be right back.”
She watched him walk over to the door and start reading.
Jessie had lit a cigarette and started puffing. Her fingers shook.
“I’ve discovered that it was manipulated for my father to ride Loco that day. A horse that would have never bucked my father off had it been a normal ride. But nothing about that day was normal. I was left with my aunt. Extra people were in the room when the riders and horses were drawn. Someone gave my father painkillers. Something he didn’t need. Someone—”
“A blonde calling herself Celeste Higheagle told the corner that her husband was on painkillers for a fall he’d taken the previous weekend,” Ryan interrupted. “I just read the coroner’s report, Mrs. Lawyer. Celeste Higheagle doesn’t have blonde hair. I’m guessing she didn’t back then either.”
Jessie took a long draw on the cigarette. Slowly, she exhaled. She was stalling. Shandra leaned forward even though the smoke already made her eyes water.
“Jessie, why did you pretend to be my mother? I know she was sleeping with Adam at the time my father took his fall. You have never said anything nice about her, why would you want to be her?”
Jessie’s eyes filled with tears. “I did want to be her. I wanted to be Mrs. Edward Higheagle. Even if it was after he was dead.”
Shandra patted the woman’s shoulder. “I’m sorry my father didn’t treat you well. Was that why you gave him the painkillers? So you could play his wife?”
Her head snapped up. “I didn’t give him the painkillers.”
“Then how did you know about it?” Ryan asked.
“Know about what?” Jessie asked, taking another drag on her cigarette.
“Know that someone had given him painkillers?” Shandra said.
“I didn’t. Dicky told me this was my chance to play Mrs. Higheagle. That Celeste wasn’t around and to tell the policeman that Edward was on painkillers from a fall.” She shuddered. “When I said it wasn’t right and how did he know the princess wasn’t around, he said don’t worry about her and do what he said or he’d break my leg and I wouldn’t be able to ride in the finals.” She squashed out the butt of the smoking cigarette and pulled out another one, lighting it. “That was my best year ever and first chance at Nationals. I wasn’t about to mess that up. So I pretended to be Edward’s wife and said what I was told to say.”
Shandra didn’t like the information. “Do you think my father would have taken anything Dicky gave him? A pill or food?”
“No way. They had a mutual hate for one another.” Jessie nodded her head, supporting how sure she was of the fact.
“Who would have given my father something to eat or drink?” Shandra said out loud.
“The princess,” Jessie said. “I saw her during the team roping hand him a burger.”
“When was that, time wise, before the bareback riding?” Ryan asked.
“Team roping was right before the bareback riding, and Edward rode the last horse that day.” Jessie puffed on her cigarette.
Shandra felt numb. Everything was pointing to her mother pre-meditating her husband’s death. My father.
Chapter Thirty
“Thank you, Mrs. Lawyer.” Ryan took hold of Shandra’s arm, helping her stand, and leading her out to the Jeep.
“Breathe,” he said, holding her in his arms.
She gasped and shook. “My mother killed my father,” she said through clenched teeth.
“We don’t know that yet. All we have are Jessie’s memories about that day.” Ryan opened the Jeep door and maneuvered her onto the seat. He hurried around to the driver’s side and climbed in.
“How do I get to your aunt’s ranch?” he asked, starting up the Jeep and driving away from the Lawyer Ranch.
“Go back to town. It’s the only way I know to get there.” Shandra’s hands were clasped in her lap. She continued to look out the side window.
He had no clue what she was thinking. If he’d found out a parent that had treated him as if he didn’t exist had killed his other parent, he would be cussing and trying to figure out how he’d missed it all these years. He glanced over at Shandra.
She wiped a hand across her eyes.
Damn! He wished he knew what to say or do. The highway was in front of them. “Which way do I go?”
“Right.”
He drove three miles, and she told him to turn right again.
“Follow this for five miles.” She continued to stare out the window.
“You want to talk about this?” he asked, wanting to help.
“No. I want to visit with Aunt Jo. Maybe she can help me understand.”
“Okay. But I’m here if you want to talk.” He brushed a hand down her arm.
“I know.”
He traveled down the gravel road, peering into the darkness, watching for wildlife that could bolt into the road.
Lights blinked in the distance. “Turn left at the next road,” Shandra said.
He spotted the road and turned, another mile they pulled up to a large, two-story, farm house with a barn and corrals to the right.
“Park beside the pickup on the left. That’s Coop’s,” Shandra
said.
Ryan parked. Three dogs ran from the back of the house, barking. The light by the back door flashed on, casting light to the first pickup.
“Don’t worry, the dogs are all bark.” Shandra opened the door and stepped out. The dogs ran to her. She said something to them and they all sat.
Ryan turned the Jeep off and grabbed their bags out of the back seat.
Shandra waited for him to join her. The dogs started sniffing the Jeep.
“Come on. Aunt Jo is anxious to meet you.” Shandra looped her arm through his and led him to the back door.
“Come in. It’s cold out there,” said a woman not quite as tall as Shandra but with the same facial features.
Shandra walked in and Ryan followed.
Three men stood in the kitchen. One had to be the uncle and the other two the cousins. The woman’s smile stretched from ear to ear as she stood beside the man.
“Aunt Jo, Uncle Martin, Coop, and Andy,” Shandra motioned to each person as she said their names, “This is Weippe County Detective, Ryan Greer.”
Ryan held out his hand to the uncle first, then the aunt, and each cousin. “Pleased to meet all of you,” he said.
“We are very pleased to meet you,” Aunt Jo said.
“Aunt Jo, don’t go match-making. We’re friends.” Shandra looked into his eyes then back at her aunt. “Good friends.”
“I think that’s a good thing. You need a man in your life,” Aunt Jo said. “Andy, take their bags upstairs. Shandra in Coop’s room and Ryan in your room.”
“I don’t want to put anyone out—” Ryan started.
“You aren’t. Coop and Andy are staying with friends tonight. They just wanted to meet you,” Aunt Jo said.
“Yep.” Coop walked up to Shandra. “If I run into Jessie, you want me to let you know?”
Shandra shook her head. The last thing she wanted was Coop talking to the woman. “No. We just came from her ranch. You don’t need to talk to her.”
Disappointment shadowed his face.
“We don’t need any more information from her,” Ryan said. He rubbed his hands together. “Something sure smells good.”