Dyer Consequences

by Maggie Sefton

She knew what this was about.

  "Ahhhh . . . you mean the car crash. Somebody cutting my brakes, and all. Believe me, folks, I have been thinking about it. All day, in fact. You’ll be glad to know that a police officer took my statement this morning. Unfortunately, I don’t remember seeing anyone around the ranch so there’s not much for the police to go on—”

  “There’s nothing for the police to go on, Kelly. No leads at all,” Burt interrupted in a firm voice. “No one saw a car parked near yours or anyone walking around in the canyon. I’ve already checked with the deputy sheriff who patrols up there. Whoever did it may have followed you from town, then saw you leave the car unattended and grabbed his chance. With all the snow piled around, no one would have seen him crawl beneath your car.”

  Kelly felt a ripple of cold run across her skin, picturing the harsh scenario Burt had painted. It was still hard for her to believe that someone would try to kill her.

  “So you agree that this is all about the ranch,” she said in a quiet voice.

  Burt nodded. “Yes, I do, Kelly. I didn’t believe it at first, but now I’m convinced. Someone wants that ranch bad enough to try and kill you. Jennifer has filled us in on the details of the earlier buyers and everything that happened to them. The threats start with vandalism first, then get more serious. I agree that whoever did this poisoned Carl. Maybe he was hoping you’d dump the property like the other owners did when the threats hit home. And when you didn’t, well, the threats turned deadly.”

  Kelly looked into Burt’s careworn face. He was as serious as she’d ever seen him. She looked away, staring into her coffee instead. “You know, it was hard for me to believe at first. I mean, trashing houses and attacking dogs is bad enough. But trying to kill someone . . .” She shook her head. “But I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I agree. It’s gotta be the same guy, and it’s all about the ranch.” She wasn’t sure, but Kelly thought she heard an audible sigh emanate from the group surrounding her.

  “That’s why you have to sell it,” Steve said, his voice cutting through the quiet.

  Kelly’s head jerked up at that. She stared into Steve’s steady dark gaze and saw the truth of what he said. Even so, she rebelled. “Sell it? Hell, no, I don’t want to sell the ranch.”

  This time the collective groan that went around the room was audible.

  “Damn, Kelly, be sensible!”

  “Kelly, let the bastard have it.”

  “The ranch isn’t worth risking your life.”

  “What if this psycho strikes again?”

  Kelly listened to her friends’ pleas, still staring into her coffee, but every one of them hit home. And they resonated within. That was the thing. Everything her friends said echoed what her own little voice inside had been whispering all day. Most times, she listened to that little voice. But sometimes . . . sometimes she ignored it. Kelly remembered that every time she did, she regretted it.

  “Kelly girl, I know how much that land means to you,” Curt said, his voice gentle but firm. “But you have to face facts. You’ve never flinched from any decisions you’ve had to make. I’ve watched you analyze the facts, then decide. Selling the ranch is just another decision. Don’t let personal feelings get in the way. Pretend one of your clients came to you with this problem. You’d tell him or her to sell. Simple as that. Am I right?”

  Damn. Curt hit home on that one. She glanced back to her coffee, which was probably stone cold by now. “I know you’re right, Curt,” she said with a sigh. “But I don’t like being forced to sell. I feel like I’d be running scared.”

  That comment caused an even louder uproar than before.

  “You got it. Run like hell.”

  “This isn’t a game, Kelly!”

  “That guy’s a psycho. Who knows what he’ll do next?”

  “We want you alive, Kelly. Let it go.”

  Kelly drained her coffee, trying to find the right words to answer her friends. She couldn’t find them. They were right.

  Jayleen spoke up then. “Kelly, I know what you’re feeling. The mountain gets ahold of you and won’t let go. For some of us, we’ve just gotta live up there. But don’t you worry. That canyon has plenty of gorgeous places left for you to find. I promise, I’ll start asking around. Meanwhile, you gotta get rid of that property. The quicker the better. I swear, after listening to Jennifer, I’m convinced that place is cursed. It must be. Damned if I know what’s happening, but there’s some baaaad juju hangin’ over that ranch.”

  As usual, Jayleen had been able to pierce through all the reasons and feelings that fogged Kelly’s mind and blow them away in one breath. Cursed. Kelly didn’t believe in curses. But she did believe that some people were capable of doing terrible things. She’d seen it happen often enough. That much was real.

  She looked at Jayleen, then around the circle of her friends, who were clearly awaiting her response. “Bad juju, huh?” she said with a wry smile. “Well, damn. I guess that settles it.”

  This time, loud expressions of relief echoed around the room.

  “Thank God you’re listening to reason.”

  “It’s the right thing to do, Kelly.”

  “Right, hell. It’s the smart thing to do.”

  “No piece of land is worth your life.”

  She had to agree. Jayleen was right. The canyon was filled with gorgeous views from the bottom to the top. She’d find another place. She knew she would.

  Jennifer reached into her briefcase beneath the table and pulled out a sheaf of papers. Even from where she was sitting, Kelly recognized a contract. A real estate contract to sell property. Jennifer waved the papers at the circle.

  “Okay, everyone, keep the coffee and pie coming, so we can get Kelly to sign this listing contract before she changes her mind.”

  Fourteen

  Kelly reached over the laptop and snatched her ringing cell phone. Flipping it open, she continued to tab through the spreadsheet columns, entering client revenues and expenses. Jennifer’s voice came quickly.

  “Thought you’d like to know, we’ve got the ranch officially entered into the multilist. I’m sorry it’s taken several days, but I needed to hear input from other agents at the office. And my broker, of course.”

  “I understand, Jen. I’ve been busy catching up on my client accounts anyway.”

  “Now that it’s listed, I’m hoping we’ll generate some interest, but don’t hold your breath. It’s still winter.”

  Kelly looked through the knitting shop windows to the blustery wind-driven snow outside. The tall evergreens surrounding the shop’s driveway swayed, branches laden. Another winter storm. It was nearly the end of February, and no end in sight. At this rate, March would really come in like a lion.

  “That’s for sure. It’s miserable outside. Carl and I are hunkered down here at the knitting table.” She glanced to her dog, lying beneath the table asleep. “Of course, I’m working; Carl is sound asleep.”

  “Give him a pat for me.”

  “I will. Say, what listing price did you and your broker decide on? I know you wanted to stay at market value, but I’ll bet he thought otherwise. Considering, you know...”

  Jennifer sighed. “Yeah, he thinks we should offer below market and pray we can get that. I dunno, Kelly. Gossip travels fast in this town. Other real estate agents have no doubt heard about the problems, so we may have to accept a lower price.”

  Kelly felt the anxiety lobe of her brain coming to life. Here she was, up to her ears in medical bills for herself and for Carl, and she would probably have to take a lower price than she had paid for the property. Damn. It wasn’t fair.

  “I understand, Jen. We’ll take what we can get. I’ll just have to brainstorm with Curt on how to raise extra cash between now and summer. He says the drilling company won’t start any gas wells until springtime at the earliest.” She looked outside. “It doesn’t look like spring’s coming anytime soon,” she said gloomily.

  “And springtime always comes l
ater in Wyoming.”

  “Why am I not surprised.”

  “I called up Franklin, alias Gothboy, to let him know the ranch was back on the market, and he really was excited. Told me again about his clients who were interested in Fort Connor mountain properties. Of course, that made my antennae buzz again, so I asked him if his clients were investors. He said no, they were private individuals. So I’m hoping he’ll make one of his ridiculously low offers.”

  “Why’s that? Just so we can turn him down?”

  “Well, that, too. But I want to know who the buyer is. The purchase offer will have all the pertinent information. I’m curious who these ‘private individuals’ are.”

  Kelly heard a tone in Jennifer’s voice. “Why?”

  “I want to check ’em out. See what I can find out on the Web. See if they’re legit. Or if they’re really a part of some development group or something. Oops, another call coming in. Talk to you later.”

  Kelly slid her little phone onto the table and returned to the spreadsheet. Thinking about the ranch churned her up inside. Numbers were soothing, calming. What better way to get her mind off her worries? The knitting lobe of her brain spoke up then, reminding her there was a much better way to relax and it was way more fun, too. She could return to the scarf buried in her knitting bag.

  She paused in the midst of the spreadsheet, considering. Although the yarn was sorely tempting, she was almost caught up with her client accounting. Knitting would have to wait. Numbers were calling right now. In fact, they were nagging.

  Kelly clumped around the yarn bins to the knitting table, slowly but surely. She was finally getting a rhythm going with the crutches. Swing the crutches, swing the cast, step with the right foot. Swing, swing, step. She might not be speedy, but she got there. Now it only took five minutes to get from the table to the restroom. Progress. Of course, it helped that her sprained right ankle was recuperating quickly. Her one good leg was all she had to stand on.

  As she rounded the corner Kelly was surprised to see Burt sitting in the chair next to hers, patting Carl. Carl, of course, had forgotten any semblance of discipline and was trying to climb onto Burt, his long pink tongue slurping Burt’s face. Carl never fully understood that he was not a lap dog.

  “Down, Carl! Get off Burt, for Pete’s sake,” Kelly ordered. “You’ll get him all dirty with those big feet of yours.”

  Carl ignored her completely, and continued trying to crawl into Burt’s lap, still slurping his chin. Burt kept laughing, clearly not minding being slurped, which only encouraged Carl more.

  “Carl, down! Off! Whatever—”

  “Carl, sit!” Rosa’s commanding voice resounded as she strode to the table, giving what Kelly recognized as the hand signal to sit.

  Carl glanced at Rosa and backed up, still wiggling, clearly wanting to slurp Burt again. Wiggling won out, and Carl lunged for Burt’s lap. The better to reach his chin. Burt simply laughed and rubbed Carl’s head.

  Kelly sighed. “I guess he’s forgotten his commands, Rosa.”

  “Oh, he knows them, all right. He just doesn’t want to obey,” Rosa said as she swiftly walked around the table. Grabbing Carl’s leash, she gave one quick tug on his training collar. “Carl, sit,” she commanded in a firm voice.

  This time Carl obeyed. He didn’t want to, that was plain to see. He whined and looked from Kelly to Rosa to Burt with brown-eyed doggie pleas. But, he stayed in his “sit.”

  “Wow, Rosa. I gotta hand it to you. Talk about the voice of authority,” Kelly said in admiration. “I wish he’d pay attention to me like that.”

  “It’s not me, Kelly, it’s the attitude,” Rosa said. “Carl’s gotta know you’re boss. Then he’ll obey. Right, Carl?” She gave him a big head rub. “Good boy, yes, you are. Good sit.”

  Carl gazed up at Rosa, clearly enjoying her praise.

  “Good dog, Carl,” Burt said, reaching over and scratching Carl’s ear. That was more than Carl could bear, however, and he broke his sit, heading for Burt.

  He didn’t get far. Rosa gave another quick jerk of the leash. “Sit!” Once again, Carl obeyed.

  “Good boy. Now let’s get you away from temptation. Down!” Rosa commanded with accompanying hand gesture, palm facing the floor.

  Clearly reluctant, Carl hesitated but obeyed, glancing up at Rosa, hoping for a reprieve. Oh, to jump and slurp again.

  Not this time. Rosa held her palm up, facing Carl. “Stay.” Carl slumped his chin on his paws, exhaling a big sigh. A dog’s life.

  Kelly laughed. “Attitude, huh? I thought I had enough of that already.”

  “I’ll say,” Burt agreed.

  Rosa handed the leash to Kelly. “Remember, Kelly, you’re Alpha Dog. You’re the boss. I’ll check on you later.”

  “I am Alpha, I am Alpha Dog,” Kelly repeated, trying to keep a straight face, which was hard because Burt was laughing. She sank into the chair, still repeating the phrase for her own amusement and Burt’s. “I am Alpha Dog. I am mighty. I am strong. I am temporarily crippled, but don’t let that fool you. I am Alpha.”

  “Lord, Kelly,” Burt said, wiping tears from his eyes when he finally caught his breath. “I haven’t laughed that hard in weeks. It sure feels good.”

  “Well, we haven’t had much to laugh about lately, have we?” she said as she retrieved her almost-finished scarf. She could bind off and tuck the ends today if she had enough time. Maybe she could start the hat project this week.

  “No, no, we haven’t,” Burt agreed, leaning back into the chair. “I guess that’s why I stopped by. To update you on what’s happening at the department and the investigation into Tracy’s death.”

  Kelly looked up from her knitting. Burt hadn’t mentioned anything in over a week. “I’ve been wondering how that’s been going.”

  “I wish I could report that Dan and the guys are getting closer to finding out who killed her, but unfortunately, that’s not the case. Those guys Dan has been bringing in for two weeks have told us about every break-in and car theft in the city. Of course, nobody admits to being anywhere near the shop that night. And the guy they beat up on the north side still refuses to talk. Without an eyewitness, we’ve got nothing.” Burt shook his head. “So, detectives have hit a wall for now. Without any new leads, they’ve got nowhere else to go.”

  Kelly frowned as she worked the stitches. “And nothing has turned up on that boyfriend?”

  “Not really. One of the girls in the same apartment building said she saw Tracy get into a car with a guy one night. All she remembers was he was wearing a black jacket.”

  This time Kelly scowled at the yarn and felt the stitches tighten. Oops, she reminded herself. Don’t take it out on the innocent yarn. You know what happens. You’ll strangle the wool. Kelly remembered and loosened her stitches to let the wool breathe once more. She could almost feel the yarn sigh.

  “That is so frustrating. Connie heard Tracy say she was meeting him that night. I’ll bet he came over to the shop. That must be why she left the door unlocked. So this boyfriend has got to be the one who killed her, Burt! If those other guys were nowhere near the shop, then he must be the one, don’t you think?”

  Burt exhaled a long sigh before answering. “Don’t forget, Kelly, those other guys could be lying. But Dan will continue to look into the boyfriend lead anyway. I have to admit this no-name boyfriend is looming larger on my radar screen.”

  Kelly knitted without speaking for a minute or so. “You know, this guy is going to get away with murder if we don’t find him.”

  “We?” Burt said, brow arching. “Might I remind you, Kelly, your junior detective status is temporarily on hold. You’re not sleuthing, do you hear me?”

  Kelly snorted. “Whether it’s sleuthing or not, you know I’m going to help anyway I can. Even if I can’t go looking around, I can still ask questions and tell you if I learn anything.”

  “Questions are good, as long as you ask them on your cell phone. From the knitting shop, okay?” />
  “Does it look like I’m going anywhere?” Kelly retorted.

  “Just so we’re on the same page.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said in an obedient tone.

  Burt looked surprised at the uncharacteristic response. “Don’t worry, Kelly. Killers always leave loose ends dangling somewhere. We simply have to find them, and we will. They won’t get away, I promise.”

  Sort of like dangling yarn tails waiting to be tucked between the stitches and hidden, Kelly thought as she started to bind off the stitches on the last row. “I hope you’re right, but let’s be honest. What if you do discover a ‘loose end’ and find this guy? How would you ever prove he did it? There was nothing left at the scene that could identify him.”

  "Well . . . that isn’t entirely correct,” Burt hedged. “They did find something they could use, but they didn’t want it to become public knowledge.”

  Kelly’s ears perked up and the knitting dropped to her lap. “What did they find? I swear, I’ll never tell a soul.”

  “Remember how I said they couldn’t find any fingerprints from strangers at the scene, just shop personnel? Dan figured the killer wore gloves. However, he must have taken one off, because investigators found one good thumbprint on the laundry tub near the faucet. A bright blue thumbprint, no less. They think the killer must have taken off his glove to run cold water on his hand. Remember, Mimi said the dye water was hot. The hot water must have seeped under the glove and his hand must have hurt like hell.”

  “A fingerprint? Burt, that’s great! Now you’ve really got something. Has the print matched any database yet?”

  Burt shook his head. “Not yet. But we haven’t matched all those guys yet. There are a couple from out of town in that crew. And it looks like they’ve gone underground.”

  “What about the guy with the assault record?”

  “Nope, his prints didn’t match.”

  Kelly picked up her knitting and pondered the information while she finished binding off the last row. “It’s a start, Burt. I’ve got a feeling more of those loose ends are going to turn up now. Maybe they’ll get a lead on that boyfriend and check his prints.”