Reed Ferguson Mystery Box Set 5

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Reed Ferguson Mystery Box Set 5 Page 28

by Renee Pawlish


  “What’re you doing here?” she hissed.

  “I found Marcia, but –”

  She stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door shut behind her. “My husband’s home, and I don’t want him to hear us.”

  “Marcia’s disappeared, and I’m worried someone may have hurt her.”

  A hand flew to her throat. “Oh no. What happened?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. She met her daughter, and then vanished. I can’t share all the details now, but have you heard from Marcia?”

  She glanced behind her, then said, “No, not a thing.”

  I scrutinized her carefully. “That’s the truth?”

  “Yes.”

  I believed her.

  “You think Marcia may have come here?” she asked.

  My mind flashed to the blood on the floor of Marcia’s house. “Or she was brought here against her will.”

  She shivered. “They wouldn’t do that.”

  “You mean the Holders?”

  Her lips formed a thin line, and she nodded.

  “Do you ever talk to the Holders?” I asked.

  “Just when I see them around town, or at church. But nothing is said about Marcia or the baby. That’s taboo.”

  “You don’t socialize with them at all?”

  “No! I don’t know anything.” She let out a big sigh. “I wish I did. If you want to take on the Holders, go right ahead.”

  “I’m going to talk to Jennifer Madisen next.” If she doesn’t slam the door in my face, I thought, but didn’t say.

  “Well, you’ll have a good shot tonight. It’s poker night at the Lodge, so the sheriff will be there. But you’re crazy to try. She won’t talk to you.”

  “Does she go out with friends when he’s playing poker?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe, but she’s more likely to spend the time with her horses.”

  “What do you know about Jennifer?”

  “Not much.”

  “Did Marcia and Jennifer get along?”

  “As far as I know. Jennifer’s five years older than Marcia, and Marcia looked up to her sister.”

  “Did Jennifer ever leave town, to go to college or work after high school?”

  “I don’t think the mayor would’ve allowed her to leave town, for college or anything else. She worked at the dairy plant for a while, but she’d been dating Ben since high school, and they got married a couple of years after they graduated. She loved horses, so they bought ranch land and built a big house, and bought horses. They have two boys who both work out at the dairy plant. That was kind of her life, raising the kids, and the horses. She travels now, but never back then.”

  “What’s Toby like?”

  “He’s good-looking, like his dad, but not mean, although Toby was wild for a while. That boy could drink, and I heard he was into drugs for a bit, too. But he straightened himself out, and he’s done really well for himself with that farm equipment store.”

  “Why didn’t he work at the plant?”

  “He did, in high school and for a year or so after that, but I don’t think the mayor was ready to give up control, and Toby was having his own troubles.”

  “With the drinking and drugging?”

  She nodded. “And he was with a bad crowd, too. But then his friend Jay was murdered, and that seemed to change things for Toby.”

  My ears perked up. “When was his friend murdered?”

  “1985.”

  “The same time that Marcia got pregnant, and her baby was kidnapped.”

  She frowned. “Jay’s death didn’t have anything to do with Marcia. He was hanging with a rough crowd, and there were rumors he was selling drugs.”

  “Did Jay grow up in Sagebrush?”

  “No, his family moved here from Nebraska when he was in high school, and that’s when he and Toby became friends. They worked together at the dairy plant, and hung out. Jay moved to Denver for a year or so, and came back married.”

  “How’d he die?”

  “It was awful. He was shot in the back of the head. A farmer found his body out in a field south of town. They never found who did it. People wondered if it was some kind of a drug deal gone bad, but I don’t know.”

  “Do you think Mayor Holder had anything to do with Jay’s murder?”

  “Good Lord, why would you jump to that conclusion?” she said harshly.

  “It seems that the mayor comes up a lot around this town, and never in a good context.”

  “Well, I heard a few people say they thought he knew something, but that’s it.”

  “What was Jay’s last name?”

  “Hmm, I don’t remember. It’s been so long ago…”

  I thought for a second. “So after Jay died, Toby started his own business.”

  “Yes. I think he got good and scared about the direction of his own life.”

  “Did the mayor give him some start-up cash?”

  She shrugged. “I have no idea. All I know is Toby opened the store when he was about twenty-two or so, and he’s made a boatload of cash.”

  “There’s that much money to be made in farm equipment?”

  “I guess.” She crossed her arms. “It was nice to see Toby do well.” Then she glanced back at the door. “I should go.”

  “What does your husband do at Toby’s store?” I asked quickly.

  “He’s Toby’s second-in-command. He works with suppliers, and in sales, the front counter. He’s been there for years.”

  I nodded. “If you hear from Marcia, or think of anything else, call me.” I took out a card and started to hand it to her, but she pushed my hand away.

  “I can’t take that. What if my husband finds it? What’ll I say to him?”

  “Does it matter?”

  She grimaced. “You don’t know this town. Or the Holders.”

  “Fine. I’m staying at the Sagebrush Inn. Leave a message there.”

  “I will.” She reached behind her and grabbed the doorknob. “I need to go.”

  Without another word, she spun around and let herself back into the house. I walked back to my car, and as I got in, I glanced at the house. A heavyset man with blond hair and a handlebar mustache was peering out the window at me. He had a frown on his face. Annette’s husband? I found myself hoping I hadn’t gotten her into trouble with him.

  Chapter Eighteen

  If I wanted to talk to Jennifer Madisen, it looked as if I’d have to take a chance and go to her house again. Not that I relished that idea, since she’d slammed the door in my face the last time and called her sheriff husband to run me off their property. The only good thing was that this time, her husband was supposed to be gone. If so, maybe she wouldn’t want to bother him, and I could get her talking. It was a chance I’d have to take.

  I admired a beautiful sunset as I drove away from the Gessler house. It took a few minutes to drive through town, and then I was on the highway. When I reached County Road 15, I noticed the heat of the day was dissipating, and I rolled down my window. Alfalfa had recently been harvested, and a pungent, earthy odor filled the 4-Runner. I soon approached the Madisen ranch. I turned down the dirt road and drove slowly around the circular drive. When I drew parallel with the house, I stopped. The house looked quiet in the approaching dusk, with a light on in the living room window. I got out, walked to the door, and knocked.

  Nothing.

  I knocked again, then stepped off the porch and walked to the garage. I was about to look for a window to see if any cars were in the garage when I heard the drum of horse’s hooves. I walked around the side of the garage just in time to see a woman on a chestnut horse disappear behind the garage.

  Jennifer?

  I sneaked along the side of the garage and peeked around the corner. I saw a shed, and down a dirt lane, a fenced-in corral connected to a large red barn. The woman had dismounted, and was leading the horse through a gate into the riding area. She closed the gate and walked the horse through a large barn door.

  I trot
ted past the shed, down the dirt lane, and up to the fence. I decided not to holler at Jennifer, in case she decided to ride off – or run me down on her horse. I climbed over the fence, hurried up to the barn door, and looked inside. Several horses were in stalls, but I didn’t see Jennifer, so I took a couple of steps into the barn. I ignored the smells of hay, manure, and horses and looked around. I didn’t see Jennifer, but I spotted an open door on the other side of the barn. I went over to it and poked my head out.

  This side of the barn had a long porch, and Jennifer was sitting on a rocker. She wore tan riding slacks, a white blouse, and riding boots. All looked as expensive as the gold jewelry she seemed so fond of. A tall glass sat on a small table next to her.

  “Hello,” I said as I stepped out the door.

  She leaped out of the rocker with a curse and took a few steps backward. Then she recognized me. “I thought I told you I didn’t want to talk to you,” she snapped. She started to step off the porch, leaving the glass behind. “My husband is at a meeting, but I’m going to call him. You better hightail it out of here this time. If he finds you here, he’s not going to be happy.”

  “Wait,” I called out. “I found Marcia, but then she disappeared. I think she might be in danger.”

  She halted and slowly turned around.

  “You talked to Marcia?” she asked softly. A hand fiddled with a small gold cross necklace.

  I nodded as I took a few steps toward her. “A few days ago.”

  Her mouth opened, but it took a moment for her to get any words out. “How is she?” she finally murmured.

  “She was fine. Now I’m not so sure.” I leaned against the railing. “Has she tried to contact you?”

  She looked out into the deepening twilight and said, “I haven’t talked to Marcia since she left town, almost thirty years ago.”

  “Why not?”

  “She didn’t want me to.” Pain flashed across her face. “She said she was making a clean break, from Sagebrush, from our family. From my father. I never knew where she went.”

  “I thought you two were close. Didn’t she look up to you?”

  “Maybe at one time. By the time she had the baby, she was angry with the entire family.”

  “When she was pregnant, did you try to help her?”

  “How?” She crossed her arms defensively. “My father was in control of everything, and Ben, my husband, didn’t want to challenge him.” She bent her head. “I ended up being the big sister who wasn’t able to protect her from anyone. All I could do was be there to comfort her, but she didn’t want that.”

  “After Marcia left town, did you ever try to contact her?”

  “My father told me not to, that if I did, there would be consequences.”

  “He’d take all this,” I waved a hand to encompass the barn and land, “away from you and your husband.”

  “A trust bought the land, but that’s all.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “You don’t understand. I had no choice but to let Marcia go. She wanted it that way, and if I hadn’t, my father would’ve found ways to punish me.”

  “Like what?”

  “He has his ways.” Then her head jerked up. “And do you think Ben would be sheriff if my father didn’t want him to be? Being a lawman is everything to Ben. I couldn’t let my father take that away, and he would have if I’d tried to get in touch with Marcia.”

  “You and Ben could’ve gone somewhere else.”

  “Sagebrush is all we know. We could never move.” She mustered up some defiance. “You need to go. Do you know what would happen if my father heard I was talking to a private investigator?”

  “Why would he care?”

  “He cares about everything in this town.”

  “If Marcia calls you, let me know.” I tried to hand her my business card, but like Annette, she wouldn’t take it.

  “If Marcia contacts me,” she said, “you’d be the last person I’d tell.”

  “Even if it might help her?”

  Tears welled up in her eyes. “You’d better go,” she repeated.

  She turned and rushed past me and into the barn. I walked slowly around the barn and back down the dirt lane. Somewhere far off, I heard a tractor in a field, a farmer cutting alfalfa in the cool of the evening. It was peaceful out here, so different from the hustle and bustle of a big city. Yet the turmoil of life made no distinction between the two.

  Dusk had turned to darkness by the time I made my way around the house and to my car. I drove down the dirt road and onto County Road 15, my headlights cutting a swath in front of me. I reached the highway, thinking about Mayor Holder and what would make a man become so controlling of his family. A semi passed me, and I realized I was going too slowly. I sped up, my mind still elsewhere.

  A car passed going the other way, and for a brief moment, I was alone on the highway. I crested a small hill and crossed over a bridge. Then headlights appeared as small dots in my rearview mirror, but they grew larger by the second.

  “That guy’s flying,” I muttered to no one.

  For a second, I wondered whether a cop had been waiting by the bridge and had clocked me speeding. I glanced at the speedometer. I was going five over the limit. Speeding, yes, but worthy of a ticket? Hardly.

  I eased up on the gas until I was going the speed limit. The headlights drew closer. I peered into the rearview mirror, trying to see if it was a cop car. It didn’t look like it, but the newer cruisers had flat lights on top, so it was harder to recognize them. I sucked in a breath and braced myself for flashing lights that didn’t come.

  Suddenly the car moved into the lane next to me. It sped up, and then it veered toward me but didn’t make contact with the 4-Runner.

  “Hey!” I spun the steering wheel, surprised.

  I took a quick look into the car – a dark, four-door sedan – but I couldn’t see the driver. I pulled harder to the right. My right wheels skidded onto the shoulder. The car stayed close to my side. I felt the 4-Runner skid and I slammed on the brakes. My tires squealed, then the 4-Runner dipped and I was suddenly careening off the road toward a barbed wire fence. I finally screeched to a stop, slammed forward and bumped my head against the visor.

  I flew out of the car and looked to the highway. All I saw of the car were red taillights. They faded and winked out. I cursed, then stumbled to the front of the 4-Runner. I’d come within inches of crashing through the fence. I checked the car, but there didn’t appear to be any damage, so I got in and backed up. When I reached the highway, I drove carefully back into town, alert for the sedan. I meandered up and down the quiet streets, but didn’t see it. I passed a few bars, but the sedan wasn’t at any of them, either. I finally gave up and went back to the Sagebrush Inn.

  The night clerk stared at me as I marched through the lobby and to my room. I let myself in, pushed the bathroom door open with a bang, turned on the light, and checked my head in the mirror. I had a small bump right at my hairline. No big deal. Thank goodness – I didn’t want to have to explain a bruise to Willie. Just then, my phone rang. I checked the caller.

  “Were your ears burning?” I said when I picked up.

  “What?” Willie asked.

  “I was just thinking of you.”

  “All good thoughts, right?”

  “Uh-huh.” I glanced at the bump, then turned off the light and strolled into the bedroom.

  “Catch me up,” she said.

  As I sat down on the bed, I told her everything that had happened since we’d last talked. When I finished, she said, “Yeah, Gina told me the other day she hadn’t heard from her mother, but then she’s been on a different shift and I haven’t seen her. Do you think someone’s hurt Marcia?”

  “I hope not.”

  “Me, too.”

  “It’s interesting the hold Mayor Holder has on these people.” I said. “They’re scared to death of him, and yet somehow he’s managed to stay mayor for all these years. According to some people, he’s a horrible guy, but he’s
fooled everyone all this time.”

  “It’s possible. I had to take a seminar at the hospital on domestic violence, and they discussed a doctor who had a great reputation in the medical community, but his wife and children recorded him at home. He was vicious, and screamed and yelled at them. He was two different men, like Jekyll and Hyde.”

  “Huh.”

  “So be careful, hon, okay? Mayor Holder may be that type of guy.”

  “I will.”

  We talked for a little while longer, and then we said goodbye. I sat for a while, gazing around the room. It didn’t seem like anyone had been in the room this time, but I still had a creepy feeling.

  Then I thought about the incident on the highway. The driver had been careful not to hit the 4-Runner, as if he’d wanted to cause me trouble without damaging his car. If the driver lived in Sagebrush, he – or she – could be worried I’d see the car. Smart move.

  I’d barely been back in town and already I’d been run off the road. Things were unraveling for someone in this small town. I just didn’t know who.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I watched TV for a while, and then my phone rang.

  “You really upset my father,” Gina Smith said when I answered.

  “What’d he say?”

  “He’s still angry I dredged all this up, and he doesn’t think you should be asking any questions. The only thing he seemed worried about was whether something had happened to my mother.”

  “That’s interesting,” I said.

  “I hope you get to the bottom of this.”

  “I will,” I said, with more confidence than I felt. “I’ll call you soon.”

  “Thanks.”

  I put my phone on the nightstand and went to bed. I tossed and turned, then fell into a fitful sleep. Sometime in the night, a large truck parked outside, the groan of its engine waking me. I checked the time: one a.m. I fell asleep again. In my dreams, someone kept coming into my room. I finally got up, showered, and went into the hotel dining room. A few truckers were at one of the tables, eating and talking to one another. I sat nearby, ordered coffee, and thought about my next move. I decided it was time to see Mayor Holder. However, it was too early to pay him a visit just yet, so I ordered eggs and bacon, a breakfast I usually never made for myself. When it arrived, I ate slowly and read the local paper. In it I saw an ad for Holder Farm Equipment. The store was located on Tenth Street, wherever that was. I would drop by there after my visit with Toby’s father.

 

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