Читать книгу Renegade's Pride - B.J. Daniels, B.J. Daniels - Страница 9
ОглавлениеTRASK BEAUMONT WAS no fool. Not anymore at least. He knew how dangerous coming back there was—let alone going near Lillie. If one of her brothers had seen him—
As it was, her father had. Ely Cahill wouldn’t tell, though. Trask had always liked the old man and thought Ely liked him, as well. It was Lillie’s brothers he had to worry about—especially Flint, the sheriff.
He knew he was taking one devil of a chance by being back in the state, not to mention what he planned to do now that he was.
As he drove the back roads he knew so well—even after nine long years of being away—he felt happy just to be home again. He’d missed all of this, but nothing like he’d missed Lillie. She was more beautiful than she’d been nine years ago, as if that was possible. She’d grown into the amazing woman he’d always known she would become. He couldn’t have been more proud of her for what she’d accomplished with the old stagecoach stop.
Leaving Lillie had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. Now he feared he’d come back too late. If he’d lost Lillie, then all his plans would have been for nothing.
He reached the turnoff that would take him up in the mountains and drove through thick pines as the narrow dirt road snaked upward. The day was incredible from the blue of Montana’s big sky to the white puffy clouds riding on the breeze to the jewel green of the pines against the snowcapped mountaintops. He’d forgotten how breathtaking it could be.
Or how much he would miss it. But he’d had no choice but to leave all those years ago. He was facing a murder rap for a crime he hadn’t committed. The law was looking for him, and Lillie... Just the thought of her made his heart ache. He should have stayed and tried to find out the truth. But he’d been young. And scared.
He’d left here a young arrogant rodeo cowboy with a chip on his shoulder and a temper. Now he’d come back a changed man determined to set things right—not just with the law, but with Lillie.
Trask worried that the latter would be the hardest one to right.
The road turned into a Jeep trail. He shifted into four-wheel drive and drove a little farther up the mountainside before pulling over in the pines and walking the rest of the way.
This spot on the mountain had been a favorite of his when he was a boy. He used to come here when life got too tough even for him. The view alone buoyed his spirit. As a boy, he’d pretended that all of this would be his one day, as far as the eye could see.
He’d definitely been a fool in so many ways, he thought now as he reached his campsite. Back in his youth, he hadn’t known what the real cost would be and not just in money.
Now, though, he knew. He’d come home determined to fix the mess he’d made—or die trying.
* * *
ANVIL HOLLOWAY LOOKED shocked that the sheriff would suggest he had beaten his wife, let alone killed her. He looked guiltily at his bruised and bloodied knuckles. “That’s not from hitting my wife. I...I... After she left...” He pointed to the hallway.
Flint got up to inspect a spot where the Sheetrock had been smashed repeatedly. There was still bloodstains where it had soaked into the ruined Sheetrock, although it was clear Anvil had also tried to clean it up as well as the rest of the kitchen.
When he turned back to the man, it was with growing dread. “That wall shows a lot of anger, Anvil.”
The farmer nodded and hung his head.
“It must have been some argument.”
Anvil said nothing.
“You need to tell me. If there is any hope of my finding Jenna...”
Slowly, the farmer lifted his head. “She told me she...had met someone else.”
Flint had expected the complaints most wives of farmers and ranchers who lived out of town often aired. Too much work, no comforts, too far from town and other people, a hard existence with little thanks, let alone money.
But Jenna had never seemed like the complaining type. A plain, big-boned, solemn, conservative woman, she’d appeared to be the perfect wife for Anvil despite their decade difference in age. Jenna was only forty-seven.
“She met someone?” Flint repeated. “You mean she had an affair?”
Anvil buried his face in his hands and began to cry in huge body-shuddering sobs.
He waited until the farmer got control of himself again. “Do you know who?” Flint asked, thinking that was probably where Jenna had gone. That is, if Anvil was telling the truth and she’d actually left under her own power last night.
The recently mopped floor still bothered him, now more than before. Just as the destroyed Sheetrock in the hallway did. He feared the wall could have been busted before Anvil turned that rage on his wife.
Anvil wiped his face with his sleeve and took a few choked breaths. “She wouldn’t tell me.”
Flint let that sink in, hearing not just frustration in the farmer’s voice, but anger. “Did she say why she wouldn’t tell you who he was?”
He swallowed again and looked at his worn work boots. “She said she was afraid I would kill him.”
Great. So Jenna had already been aware of her husband’s temper.
Flint closed his notebook. “Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to give Jenna a little time to think. I’m betting she will call pretty soon or maybe even show up. If that happens, you call me right away, okay?”
Anvil nodded, looking relieved.
“She say how long she’d been...seeing this other man?”
He shook his head. “I got the feeling it had been going on for a while.”
“So you’d been suspicious?”
Anvil emitted a bitter laugh. “Hit me like a bolt of lightning out of the blue. Never saw it coming. Not in a million years.”
Flint had had the same reaction. Jenna Holloway just didn’t seem the type. Whatever type that was. He thought of his ex. Right, that type.
“How long have you been married?” he asked.
“Twenty-four years. She’s quite a bit younger than me.” Anvil seemed to grind his teeth. “I reckon the man is younger than me, as well.”
“I’m going to need the clothing you were wearing when Jenna left.”
Anvil looked up at him. “You still think I did something to her.”
“It’s protocol in a situation like this. I’m sure Jenna will call today and we can put all this behind us.”
The farmer rose slowly from his chair and disappeared into the other room. He came back with a pair of overalls and a T-shirt. “This is what I was wearing, but I washed them...since they were soiled.”
Flint met the man’s eyes. “How often have you washed your own clothes, Anvil?”
The man looked confused. “It isn’t how it looks.”
“It looks like you cleaned up after she left to hide something.”
“I did. When I slapped her, it made her nose bleed. There was blood on the kitchen floor.” He broke down. “I was so ashamed for losing my temper. I didn’t want anyone to see the place the way it was. I was going to fix the Sheetrock today, but the lumberyard was closed.”
“Anvil, I shouldn’t have to tell you how bad this looks.”
The man dropped his head. “I was just so ashamed.”
Flint waited a few moments before he said, “Anvil, if you did something worse that you regret, now is the time to tell me.”
The farmer raised his head. “I didn’t kill her. She drove away. I swear.”
“All right. Here’s what you do. Go about your usual daily work until you hear from her,” Flint said. “I know that’s a hard thing to ask. But these things often work themselves out. In the meantime, I’ll keep an eye out for her. If she just went to town, checked into a motel...”
Again Anvil looked relieved to think that was all she’d done last night as they stepped out on the porch.
“Give me the make, model and color of the car she was driving,” Flint said and pulled out his notebook again. He hoped he was right and Jenna was in some cheap motel in town deciding what she was going to do next.
“By the way, how much money did she have on her when she left?”
Anvil looked surprised by the question. “I don’t know. We live on a pretty tight budget. I suppose she could have saved back some from the grocery money, but it wouldn’t be much.” Clearly, this had never crossed his mind.
“She doesn’t have a checkbook or credit cards she could use to get a motel?”
The farmer scratched the back of his neck. “Don’t believe in credit cards. The checkbook’s only for the farm business. I always gave Jenna whatever she needed. Like if she wanted a new dress or had to get her hair done for some special occasion.”
Flint nodded. He figured a lot of the farmers and ranchers operated much the same, especially the older ones. The women seldom left the place except to go into town for groceries or church.
“What is her cell phone number?”
Anvil looked confused. “She doesn’t have a cell phone. We have the landline here at the house. That’s all we’ve ever needed.”
Flint thought it probably wasn’t that unusual given that they seldom left the ranch. And cell phone service in these parts was scattered at best. It was the way everyone had lived not that many years ago, back when people didn’t need to be on call 24/7.
Still, no cell phone in this day and age? No credit cards? It meant no way of tracking her.
“What about a computer?” Flint asked, thinking that might be where Jenna had met this other man. But Anvil again shook his head.
“Never saw the need for one. Accountant takes care of the farm books. I want to buy somethin’ I can drive into town. Sure as the devil don’t need to be telling the world what I had for lunch on some blamed thing like Face Chat.”
Facebook. “Jenna spend any time at the library in town?”
“You’re thinking she met this man there?”
“They have computers and Wi-Fi service you can use at the library.”
Anvil frowned as if confused.
“Often people meet other people by chatting via computer. They get to talking, seem to have a lot in common, even fall in love without ever meeting each other in person.”
The farmer was staring at him. “That’s the craziest thing I ever heard.”
“Unfortunately, often the person on the other end of the chat isn’t telling the truth about themselves. Jenna could have been lured by one of these people. They call it catfishing.”
Anvil looked both horrified and completely out of touch with the world beyond this farm. Was Jenna more worldly?
“I’ll check at the library,” Flint said. “It’s a long shot, but you never know. She ever show any interest in learning to use a computer?”
“I thought her only interest was in old recipe books. She loved to bake. She was happiest in the kitchen. At least that’s what I thought.”
“I’ll get back to you if I hear something,” the sheriff told him. “Try not to worry.”
Anvil walked him out as far as the top porch step. “This isn’t like her. She’s always so sensible. She never asked for anything. Never seemed...unhappy.”
A thought struck Flint as he reached his patrol SUV. He turned back to the farmer. “You notice any change in her recently?”
Anvil seemed to think about it. After a moment, his expression changed. “Well, there was one thing, now that I think about it. I’m sure it’s not important. I feel foolish even mentioning it.”
“What’s that?” the sheriff asked when the man didn’t continue for a moment. He seemed embarrassed.
“Lately, she’s been wearing...makeup.”
* * *
TRASK WATCHED THE last of the day’s light dissolve behind the mountain. Darkness came quickly in the pines. He breathed in the cold sweet scent and thought of Lillie—as if she was ever far from his mind. At first he’d told himself that she could do better than him. That he was doing her a favor by staying away.
But getting over her had been impossible. A day hadn’t gone by that he hadn’t thought of her, yearned for her. Sometimes he felt as if he couldn’t breathe if he didn’t see her again. He’d had to come back to make things right no matter how it ended.
Trask threw another log on the campfire. Smoke rose into the twilight. Sparks flickered for a moment, then died off. Seeing her today had left him shaken. He’d expected Lillie to be angry. He’d practiced what he was going to say to her. He’d thought he’d been ready to face her.
What he hadn’t been ready for was her cool demeanor. This wasn’t the Lillie he’d left that night nine years ago. His Lillie was all fire and shooting rockets. His Lillie wasn’t like any woman he’d ever known. His Lillie...wasn’t his anymore.
He pushed that thought away, determination burning inside him. He’d get back what he lost. Lillie was at the bar tonight working. Tomorrow...
Trask tried not to get too far ahead of himself. Coming back here wasn’t just about facing Lillie. It meant facing his childhood and the man this town thought he was. Thought he would always be.
He’d grown up on the wrong side of everything. It wasn’t just that he lived out in the sticks in a dilapidated old house, that his father was never home because he was on the road with a traveling carnival doing cowboy rope tricks or that his birth mother had taken off when he was ten, leaving him with his father’s mother.
His grandmother had been nice enough, though too old to discipline him. He’d run wild. That hadn’t changed when his grandmother died and his father brought home Shirley Perkins to be his stepmother. Shirley had a son, Emery, younger than Trask, wilder than him too.
Fortunately, they hadn’t stayed around long, either. By fifteen, he found himself on his own. No one even knew that his father had died in a vehicle accident while caravanning with the carnival in the Southern states. Trask certainly didn’t tell anyone for fear of where the authorities might decide to put him. The owner of the carnival had contacted Trask and had Wild Bill Beaumont cremated, the ashes sent to Trask in a cardboard box, which he’d buried up here on the mountain, not far from where he had spent most of last night and today.
Feeling like life just kept kicking him down, he’d developed a bad attitude that went well with his bad temper. The only good thing in his life had been Lillie. Not that most of her family wanted him anywhere near her.
It was easy to look back and understand why when he’d gotten in trouble nine years ago, everyone thought he was guilty. Also why he’d done the only thing he knew. He’d run.
But in those years he’d changed, he’d grown up, he’d come to terms with his earlier life, and now he was back. Back to show everyone, especially Lillie, that he’d changed.
That meant proving first that he hadn’t killed Gordon Quinn.
He looked out over the valley. This spot on the side of the mountain provided a great view. He could see if anyone was coming up the trail below him. Not that he expected anyone to come looking for him. He knew in his heart, in his soul, that Lillie wouldn’t have called Flint on him. At least that hadn’t changed about her.
Night was coming on fast now. A cold blackness puddled under the pines around him. Montana’s big sky deepened under a blanket of cloud cover.
He threw another log on the campfire and watched the sparks rise like fireflies into the night sky. He’d had years to think about who might have murdered Gordon. What he didn’t know was whether he was an easy scapegoat or if he had been purposely framed.
At the sound of a twig breaking, he picked up the rifle lying next to his bedroll.
“It’s just me,” came a voice from the darkness.
He relaxed but still held the rifle until his friend topped the rise. It was going to be a dark night, clouds hiding the stars and moon. There was just enough light to make out his friend Johnny Burrows’s silhouette as he walked toward the fire. He carried a heavy bag over his shoulder, which he laid down with a grunt.
“I forgot how far it was back in here on foot. I’m not as young as I used to be,” Johnny said. “I brought you groceries.”
“You’re sure you weren’t followed?”
“No one knows you’re back in town, right? So no one has any reason to tail me, but I took the usual precautions.”
When they were boys, they often took off for the mountains rather than go to school. Looking back, Trask knew that it was his fault that Johnny was in trouble with his father a lot of the time. He was the one who talked his friend into skipping school. Johnny was always afraid he would get caught—and often did.
It was only one of the reasons Johnny’s father, John Thomas “J.T.” Burrows, didn’t like Trask and didn’t want his son associating with him.
But Johnny had remained a good friend all these years despite some problems nine years ago.
Johnny stepped to the fire to warm his hands. “You sure this is a good idea?”
“The fire?”
“Coming back here like this.” Johnny had stayed in town after graduating from college and ended up working with his father in the construction company where he’d worked in high school. Gordon Quinn had been one of the original partners, along with J.T. and Skip Fairchild.
Thanks to Johnny, Trask had been able to keep in touch and had known what had been going on in Gilt Edge—and especially with Lillie.
“You have a better suggestion?” Trask asked, now surprised Johnny hadn’t been happy to hear that he’d come back to clear his name.
“Maybe you should go to the sheriff and turn yourself in.”
“Turn myself in to Flint Cahill? The hanging sheriff? Right. Just throw myself on his mercy. I don’t think so. Especially since we all knew how he felt about me dating his sister.”
“It was more serious than that with Lillie, wasn’t it?”
Trask said nothing for a few minutes as he picked up a stick and poked at the fire. “I’ve never been able to forget her. It’s the main reason I came back.” When his friend didn’t comment, he looked up at him. “What?”
Still Johnny hesitated.
“You aren’t going to tell me that she’s now seeing someone.”
“No, but Junior Wainwright has been trying to get her to go out with him for the past few years.”
A fist closed on his heart. “But she hasn’t gone.”
“No. She’s dated a little, not much, just like I’ve told you.”
Trask’s first thought was to find Wainwright and set him straight. But that was the old Trask. “She can date anyone she wants.”
Johnny laughed. “When you told me that you’d changed, I didn’t believe it.” His friend eyed him. “Maybe you have changed. The old Trask—”
“Would have gone after him,” Trask said “I know. That’s one reason that the sheriff thinks I killed Gordon.”
“I had to put up with him at the construction company, so I can understand why you got into it with him.” Trask had been working for Gordon on his ranch when he’d caught him beating a horse with a two-by-four. He’d pulled the man off, taken the board away from him and warned him if he ever saw him treating an animal like that again, he’d kill him.
It had been a stupid threat, but he’d been so angry, so horrified by what Gordon was doing. Unfortunately, several of the other workers had overheard his threat to kill the man. Worse, when Gordon told him to mind his own business and fired him, Trask had told him what he could do with his job. Gordon called him a few names and Trask slugged the man and knocked him down.
He’d regretted it at once, but it was too late. Gordon threatened to have him arrested for assault and things went downhill from there.
“I would think things are better at the construction company with Gordon gone,” he said now. Johnny’s father had insisted his son learn the business from the ground up after college.
Johnny looked past the fire for a moment. “You know I never thought you killed him.”
“I appreciate that. Unfortunately, you were one of the few.”
“It was just bad timing. If you hadn’t gotten into it with him that day...”
“And run,” Trask said with a groan. “At the time, it seemed the only thing to do. Lillie had told me that Flint was looking for me. Even though I swore I didn’t do it, I didn’t even think she believed me. I was afraid I would get railroaded. Flint would have loved nothing better than to see me locked up in Deer Lodge. Anywhere away from his sister.”
“I just don’t understand what you hope to find out after all these years. If there was any evidence of someone else killing him...”
They’d had this discussion before over the years. But then it had just been talk. He realized now that Johnny hadn’t expected him to ever come back to try to find the real killer.
“I have to find out who killed Gordon. I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t stand Gordon or to have a motive for wanting him dead.”
“But enough to kill him?”
He knew what Johnny was saying. “Obviously, someone did hate him enough. I figure once I start digging into it, the killer is going to get nervous and then...”
“And then you’re going to get yourself killed. Trask, I really wish you weren’t doing this. If you left again, maybe—”
“I’m not leaving. I can’t keep running from this.”
Johnny looked worried. “I heard the sheriff has an eyewitness who swore they saw you leaving the stables that night right before Gordon’s body was found.”
“Since it wasn’t me, someone is either mistaken or lying. I’m going to look into Gordon’s friends, family, associates. Someone killed him and let me take the blame.” Gordon had been one of the original partners in Pyramid Peak Construction Company along with being a local rancher. “You were working at the construction company back when Gordon was killed. You would know if there were problems between the partners.”
Johnny shook his head. “Remember, I was just a grunt helping build the houses. I was hardly ever in the office.”
Trask nodded, knowing that this was a touchy subject given that Johnny was now one of the partners along with his father and Skip.
“When I got your call today, I was shocked. I wish you’d told me you were planning to come back.”
“So you could try to talk me out of it?”
His friend met his gaze over the glow of the campfire. “I guess I don’t have to tell you how dangerous this is. I don’t want to see you get yourself killed.”
Trask was touched. He hoped that was the reason Johnny was upset about his return. He and Johnny had had their problems nine years ago, but they’d been best friends for too many years to let one incident change that. “I have no choice. I have to clear my name. It’s the only way to get Lillie back. And right now it doesn’t look good.”
“You’ve seen her!” Johnny guessed, sounding both shocked and worried. “What makes you think she didn’t call the sheriff on you?”
“My charm?”
“Good luck with that. You are taking a hell of a chance. What if she’s already notified her brother?”
“She wouldn’t do that.”
“I don’t know, Trask. If I were you, I’d either get out of town or turn myself in. Better than Flint finding out you’re back and coming after you.”
“I just need a little time to follow a couple of leads.” He saw Johnny look at his watch. “You should get back to your fiancée. I’m looking forward to meeting her one day.”
His friend nodded. He didn’t look hopeful. It was clear Johnny thought he was making a terrible mistake by coming back. “If there is some way I can help...”
“You already have,” Trask said, seeing how uncomfortable all this was making his friend. “I don’t like putting you on the spot like this. I appreciate everything you’ve done. But I have it now.” He stepped to his old friend, took his hand and pulled him into a quick hug. “I’m going to keep you out of this from this point on.”
Johnny couldn’t hide his relief. “Gordon’s killer could still be around. If you start digging into the past...” He didn’t have to finish. For a moment, he looked guilty for not wanting to be involved. Trask knew how much his friend had to lose.
“Listen, if you need anything, call me on the burner,” Johnny said. “Don’t worry about getting me into trouble.” His old friend smiled. “You certainly tried to get me into trouble when we were kids.”
“And succeeded.” After he’d left town on the run, Trask had contacted his friend, needing to know what was going on with the murder investigation. He’d felt bad afterward, realizing he’d put Johnny in a tough position. It had been Johnny’s suggestion to use burner phones to stay in contact.
Now he realized just how worried his old friend was. But was it friendship? Or did Johnny know more than he’d told him? He hated the feeling that his old friend was hiding something.
“Thanks for the food, for everything.”
“Just be careful. I don’t want a bunch of trigger-happy deputies coming after you.”
Trask nodded. “Me, either.” He watched Johnny disappear over the horizon before turning back to the fire. The flames had died down, making the night seem darker. Clouds scudded past the moon, leaving a break in the sky to reveal the stars. The light painted the forest around him in silver.
He moved to his bedroll, thinking of Lillie. What if Johnny was right and Lillie was ready to move on with someone like Wainwright? Was he a fool for coming back here to clear his name? What if he couldn’t prove he didn’t do it?
Trask let out a long breath as he lay down. The embers in the fire flared in the breeze. He could still feel the heat. A narrow ribbon of smoke rose, wavering before it disappeared into the dark overhead.
He tried not to worry about Johnny and the feeling he had that all was not as it seemed. He closed his eyes, picturing Lillie earlier holding a gun on him. He smiled to himself. That was the woman he remembered. The woman he loved. The woman he didn’t want to live without any longer—no matter how much danger it put him in to come back here.
