Texas Tough (15 page)

“Hey, over here! I found something!” He'd raised his camera and was leaning close to snap photos. Belly jiggling, Abner Sweeney pounded around the side of the bog. He'd taken a handkerchief out of his pocket and was holding it to his nose. Mindi Thacker, in high-heeled sandals, sprinted after him followed by her cameraman. Sky and Beau watched from a distance. If the scene hadn't revolved around a murder investigation, it might have been laughable.

“Here, let's have a look.” Sweeney moved in closer, crowding the deputy and inadvertently sinking a boot ankle deep into the muck. He yanked his foot out, grimacing with distaste and spattering mud on the newswoman's spotless white slacks.

“Hope they got that on TV,” Beau muttered, then turned his attention to the object the deputy had bagged and lifted out of the cattails. “How about that? Judging from what I can see of it, I'd say that's a nine millimeter Glock. A gun like that could blow a big hole in a man. I wouldn't bet against it being the murder weapon.”

“Neither would I, but why would the shooter just toss it here?” Sky stirred, fishing his truck keys out of his pocket. “This is a good show, but I need to go into town and find Marie.”

“Go ahead,” said Beau. “I'll cover for you here and answer any questions from Abner. Somebody should be willing to give me a ride back to the house.”

“Thanks. You can tell them anything you know about the camp and the marijuana. But don't mention Marie if you can help it. If Stella finds out she's a Fletcher, that could put her in danger.”

“Fine for now, but we might not be able to keep it a secret.”

“I understand,” Sky said. “Just give me time to warn her. She can decide what to do.”

As Sky climbed into the pickup he could see the deputies and the medical examiner moving Coy's remains to an open body bag on a stretcher. He remembered Coy as a big man, well over 250 pounds. Whoever had killed him, they'd have needed extra muscle to get his body to the middle of the bog—unless Coy had walked there on his own.

Lost in thought, he made the drive into Blanco Springs. It was early in the day. The Blue Coyote would be closed, and Marie would most likely be sleeping.

Worry gnawed at him as he pulled into the empty parking lot. Would he even find her here? He'd given her his cell phone number, but she hadn't contacted him since the day they'd driven out to his property and found Coy missing. She could have decided to leave town without telling him.

He remembered her vendetta against Stella. Could the Blue Coyote's owner have found out who she was and done away with Marie as she had Lute? Given the circumstances and the people involved, anything could have happened.

Sky knew she didn't want to be seen with him. But his news couldn't wait. Deciding not to waste time, he climbed out of the pickup, mounted the back stairs to Marie's room, and rapped sharply on her door.

The long silence was broken by the creak of rusty bed springs and a sleepy voice.

“Who's out there, and what the hell do you want?”

Sky began to breathe again. The voice was Marie's.

“It's Sky,” he said. “Open the door. I need to talk to you.”

The door chain rattled. The door cracked open. “I told you not to come here. What is it?”

“Bad news, Marie. Coy's dead. We found his body on the ranch.”

Seizing Sky's arm, she jerked him into the room, closed the door, and locked the chain. The blinds were down, darkening the shabby little room. Marie was wearing a shapeless, gray tee that fell to the middle of her thighs. She sank onto the side of the bed, pressing her lips together for a moment before she spoke. “Tell me everything,” she said.

Sky told her, leaving out the more grisly details. She took the news impassively, as if numb with shock. “I figured something like that must've happened to him,” she said. “Coy was probably asking for what he got. But he's still my brother, and I still feel bad. Any idea who killed him?”

“The sheriff's crew found a pistol at the scene, a Glock. They'll have to dust it for prints and do a ballistics test, but if it's the murder weapon, and they can trace it . . .” Sky let the words hang.

“Can they do the testing here in Blanco?”

“There's no lab here. They'll have to send the gun to Lubbock or Amarillo. Most likely they'll send the body there, too.”

Marie stared down at her hands. The nails were chewed to the quick. Sky remembered how she used to bite them as a little girl.

“Stella's brother keeps a Glock in the drawer below the cash register,” she said. “I saw it a few weeks ago when I was looking for change. Do you think—?”

“Anything's possible. But a lot of people have those guns. Is there some way to look in the drawer? If it's still there, at least we'll know it isn't the one the deputy found.”

“We can look now,” Marie said, rising. “I've got a key to the bar because that's where the only bathroom is in this dump. Nobody's here at this hour. Come on.”

She yanked on her jeans and shoved her bare feet into her boots. The key, chained to a sheet metal tag, hung on a nail hammered into the door frame. Sky followed her down the dim hallway, which smelled of urine and stale tobacco smoke. At its end, Marie unlocked a door. It opened onto a narrow wooden stairway leading down to the bar.

Motioning Sky back, Marie checked to make sure the place was really empty. Then she moved behind the cash register. “Stella locks up the money every night, but I'm pretty sure the Glock stays . . . here.” She opened the drawer, pulling it all the way out and looking underneath. “It's gone.”

An ominous chill crept down the back of Sky's neck. “There are plenty of reasons the gun might not be here. When was the last time you saw it?”

Marie checked the other drawers and shelves behind the bar. “I only saw it once—it was about the time you came and found me. That's been . . . what? At least a month.” She closed the drawers, putting everything back the way she'd found it.

“Just supposing—and it's a long shot—that this gun turns out to be the murder weapon. What reason would Stella or her brother have to shoot Coy?”

“I was just thinking about that,” Marie said. “According to what Lute told me, Stella's got her fingers pretty deep in some illegal pies. Coy did come in here a couple of times, and he's got—he had—a big mouth. If he said anything about the marijuana, she could've seen him as competition and had him blown away.”

“I take it she doesn't know Coy was your brother.”

“Not unless Coy slipped up and told somebody.”

“Now that he's been killed and the law's involved, the relationship's likely to come out. Maybe it's time to think about your own safety.” Sky reached for his wallet and pulled out a handful of bills. “Take this,” he said. “It should be plenty to get you back to Oklahoma or wherever you want to go.”

“Keep your money, Sky. I know what I'm doing.” Thrusting the money back to him she glanced anxiously toward the front door. “Come on. You've got to get out of here.”

She ushered him back upstairs and locked the door behind them. “Keep in touch with me, Marie,” he said. “I mean it. With the chances you're taking, I need to know you're all right. If you don't have a cell phone, I'll buy you one.”

She shoved him toward the outside stairs. “Don't worry, I'll be fine. Look around before you go out. Make sure nobody sees you.”

Sky left her and drove back to the ranch. By now the sun was well above the horizon, scorching the land with its glaring rays. Ahead of him, on the asphalt, ravens were flocking on a road-killed coyote. Slowing the truck and averting his gaze, he pulled around them and continued on.

He was worried about Marie. She'd insisted she'd be all right, but the people she was dealing with were as dangerous as Texas diamondback rattlesnakes. One misstep and she could end up like her two brothers.

Had she told him everything? Marie had no reason to distrust him. But Sky had the feeling she was hiding something—maybe something big. His cousin had her own agenda, and she thought she was clever enough to pull it off. But compared to Stella Rawlins, Marie was a bungling amateur. Stella was smart enough to stay one jump ahead of the law and ruthless enough to destroy anyone who crossed her. The thought of what the woman could do to Marie made Sky's blood run cold.

 

Beau was waiting for Sky on the shaded front porch of the ranch house with two cold Mexican beers. He rose as Sky mounted the steps. “I saw you coming and figured you'd have a powerful thirst,” he said, handing one can to Sky and popping the tab on the other. “Sit down and we'll debrief each other. How did your cousin take the news?”

“Like she was expecting it.” Sky sank into a chair and opened his beer. “She's one tough lady. I tried to talk her into leaving, but whatever she's got in mind, she's set on seeing it through. I'm worried about her, but I can only do so much toward changing her mind.” He raised the can and took a long, easy swig, letting the coolness trickle down his throat. “How about you? How did things go at the crime scene?”

“All right.” Beau gazed across the flat to where the sunlight glittered like diamond dust on the dry alkali bed. “While the deputies were finishing up, I went with Abner to look at Coy's camp on your property. The tent's fallen down and the plants are long dead. Doesn't look like anybody's been there in weeks.”

“Am I in trouble for not reporting it?”

Beau shrugged. “Abner didn't say so. I'm guessing he had more urgent things on his mind. But I scored some points with him. When I mentioned I'd been with the DEA, he treated me like a rock star. I told him if he'd include me in the loop, I'd be happy to keep my ear to the ground and report anything I hear. He said that would be dandy as long as I didn't mind his taking credit.”

“He actually said that?”

“Pretty much. He wants to build credibility with the voters, and this case could take him a long way.”

“At least he's honest about it,” Sky said.

“Abner doesn't have enough sense to lie.”

“Well, here's a tidbit for you. Marie told me Stella's brother kept a Glock under the cash register. When we went down to the bar to check, it wasn't there.”

“Are you thinking the missing gun could be the one they found?”

“I don't know what to think,” Sky said. “Maybe we'd better keep that to ourselves till the lab checks for prints. If Stella and Nick are behind the murder, we don't want Abner going in and spooking them too early.”

“I agree.” Beau's hazel eyes narrowed. “But one thing keeps chewing on me. Stella's a smart broad, and I get the feeling Nicky doesn't even blow his nose without her giving the order. So if they killed Coy, why would they be sloppy enough to toss the murder weapon at the scene?”

Sky was about to respond when Will's pickup came roaring around the house and pulled up to the porch, braking in a cloud of dust. After swinging to the ground, Will strode to the foot of the porch steps. His disapproving glare made words unnecessary. Sky rose, ready to spring into action if needed. Beau remained where he was, sipping the last of his beer.

“If you two have finished your
break
, I've got some news. Wildfire, a hundred miles to the south of here. It's already burned a house and a barn. The owners were lucky to get their stock out in time.”

“You're not thinking it'll make it this far?” Beau was instantly on alert.

“From what I heard on the news, they stopped it from jumping the highway. But if a fire can happen there, it can happen here. If it does—and we have to assume it will—we've got to be ready.”

“Tell us what you've got in mind.” Sky was already thinking of his horses, everyone of them precious.

“For now, we'll put every man we can spare to digging a firebreak around the barns and buildings—that means clearing away anything that'll burn. Beau, I'm putting you in charge. Get Jasper's advice. He's fought fires before. Take the backhoe, any equipment that will make things go faster. Sky, you draw up an evacuation plan for the horses and other stock on the lower ranch. I'll want to see a priority list—which ones to get out first and which ones to leave behind if there's no time to save them all.”

Leaden-hearted, Sky headed for the long barn. He'd seen what range fires could do to stock, seen the horror of it, and knew what had to be done. Starting with the most valuable, the animals would be trailered out in relays, probably to the cattle pens on the caprock. Any horses set free to run could be trapped by the fire or become lost to starve or die of thirst.

In his head, he was already assembling the priority list for Will, with Erin's palomino foal and its parents at the top, to be followed by the other brood mares with their foals, the studs and the colts Sky was working to train. The older animals, like the paddock cows, docile old Belle, and the burro that kept the stallions company in their barn, would be left for last, perhaps even shot if the fire was closing in.

The process of moving so many animals would have to begin at the first whiff of danger. But there was one thing Sky knew. Regardless of Will's orders, if a fire threatened the ranch, no matter how close it burned, he would not be leaving any animal behind, no matter how old or feeble. He would stay until every last one was safe.

Any fire that threatened the Rimrock would also imperil the Prescott Ranch. Did the syndicate-hired manager who was running the place have any experience with fires? Would he know what to do?