Picking Up the Pieces

by Carolina Mac

  “Yep. Saw it happen,” said Jacky. “Freaked me right out.”

  “Jeeze, I don’t know what’s happening. They all seem to be connected.”

  A horn honked outside, the dogs barked, and Jacky hopped up and took a look out the screen door. “Oh, oh.”

  “Oh oh, what?” I followed him to the door and took a look and again I had a hard time believing my own eyes.

  Kate hopped out of her pickup and came running up the steps onto the porch. “This is an emergency. Can I come in?”

  I shook my head, said, “No,” and stepped outside. Jacky and Clay were right behind me. “What do you want, Kate. I paid y’all up to date. We got no more business.”

  “I figured you’d probably say no, but I wanted to ask you if I could borrow twenty thousand dollars for Harper’s bail. She is my sister.”

  “I can’t believe you would even ask me that.” I hooked a thumb at Clay. “Harper shot Clay and that’s one of the reasons she’s in jail and should stay there. None of you are welcome on this ranch. You best get going.”

  “Aw, come on, Logan. I know you’ve got the money. Don’t be such a tightwad.”

  I pointed. “Go, before I have you charged with trespassing. Then you’ll be in jail with your sister and you can keep her company.”

  “I hate you, Logan McKenna,” Kate snarled at me. “You’ll be sorry you didn’t help me.”

  “I’m sorry I ever met you, Kate. Y’all saw to that.”

  She jumped into her truck, turned around and spun her wheels so fast she made a big rut in the dirt in front of the house.

  “I can’t believe she’d come here asking for money,” said Clay. “Her sister shot me.”

  I shrugged. “Those are a wild bunch of girls. We better be careful and watch our backs.”

  Preston Hospital.

  CLAY was out of sorts and in a lot of pain, but he figured Bonnie Sue was worse off than him and he wanted to visit her at the hospital. We drove to Preston thinking we could check on Mrs. Tate while we were there.

  Bonnie Sue’s mother was in the waiting room outside the ICU and she smiled when she saw Clay. “How are you doing, Clay dear?”

  “I’m a little better, Mrs. Dempster. Will they let me in to see Bonnie Sue?”

  “Come on, let’s ask at the desk.” She walked Clay to the desk and one of the nurses nodded her head. She showed Clay where to go and pointed at Bonnie Sue’s bed.

  He was back five minutes later looking sad. “She woke up and looked at me,” he said, “but she can’t say nothin.”

  On the next floor up, we got to see Mrs. Tate for a little longer. She was awake and hooked up to a heart monitor.

  “Hey, boys. Nice to see y’all. They told me Jacky found me when I keeled over. Thanks, son.”

  “No problem, Mrs. Tate. Glad you’re feeling better.”

  “I’d feel a lot better if I had my Buster back.”

  “We’re still looking for him,” I said. “We haven’t given up.”

  “Would you go tell that asshole Tucker to look harder? That man ain’t got a pinch of spunk and he’s lazy as a pet skunk. He’d sit on his ass all day if he had the chance.”

  “We’ll go as soon as we leave here, ma’am.” I said. “I agree. Sheriff Tucker needs a little push sometimes.”

  Sheriff’s Office. Preston.

  THE part-time deputy, was on the phone when we arrived and paid no attention to us. Another deputy we hadn’t seen before was sitting at Bonnie Sue’s desk working on her computer.

  I led the way to Sheriff Tucker’s office and stuck my head in. “Got a minute, Sheriff?”

  Red in the face, his gray hair looking like a rat’s nest, Sheriff Tucker shook his head. “Do not have a single minute, Logan. Can you save it for another day?”

  “Don’t think so, Sheriff. This is important. Just came from seeing Mrs. Tate in the hospital and she’d like an update on the search for Buster. Have y’all made any progress?”

  “Can’t find that boy anywhere, and believe me, I’ve looked hard.”

  “Maybe this bit of news will help you,” said Jack.

  Sheriff Tucker scowled at Jack. “Probably not, Jack, but tell me anyway.”

  “Carson Wagoner is hanging around with Micky Swain. She’s at his trailer right now. And Micky Swain was the last person seen with Buster Tate.”

  “And where did you get this information, Jacky boy?”

  “We talked to Ricki at the Spur and she heard Swain tell Buster he’d give him a ride home. That was the last time anybody saw Buster Tate.”

  “Okay.” The sheriff nodded his head. “That is a thread I could follow. Ricki saw them together?”

  “Uh huh,” I said. “Buster was with Doyle Hutton and Micky Swain and they were drinking together. Doyle left first and then Buster left with Micky Swain.”

  “I’ll send somebody up there to talk to Swain later today. Even if Swain did give Buster a ride home, don’t mean he knows where Buster is now.”

  “That’s true,” I said, “but Mrs. Tate is in the hospital in a bad way and she needs Buster back. He’s all she’s got.”

  “As soon as Ivan comes back from the call he’s on, I’ll send him up to Swain’s trailer.”

  “Thanks, Sheriff.”

  We were back in the truck when Jack said, “That didn’t sound promising. Ivan’s a bit of a wuss. I can’t see him getting anything out of Micky Swain.”

  “We’ll follow Ivan up to the trailer in case he needs backup,” I said. “A visit from the cops might make something happen.”

  “Like what?” asked Clay.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “You’re only hoping something will happen, Logy,” said Jack.

  “That’s right. I’m hoping for a miracle for Buster.”

  “He stole our bull,” said Jack.

  “I realize that and I’m not forgiving him. But Buster ain’t the brightest and who knows how much money they promised him. He might have been stealing Presto thinking he’d get a lot of cash to take care of his mama or something.”

  Swain’s Trailer.

  WE sat in the truck for twenty minutes waiting for Ivan to come back from his call. He cruised close to the curb, parked his squad car in front of the building and ran inside. A couple minutes later, he ran back out and was off again.

  “Think he’s going to Swain’s trailer now?” asked Jack.

  “If the sheriff’s word is good,” I said, “he is.” I let Ivan get ahead of us a little, then followed him up the highway.

  “He’s going in that direction,” said Jack. “Don’t let him see us.”

  I chuckled. “I don’t think he would even notice us. He’s only seen us a couple of times. He wouldn’t know our truck.”

  There was only one Harley at the trailer when we parked down the road. Probably belonged to Swain. Kate’s truck was there, Swain’s pickup and Carson’s old car. A lot of vehicles and a lot of people for one small trailer.

  We hung back and watched Ivan park in front of the trailer. He hopped out like he was on a mission and stomped right up to the door.

  Ivan knocked on the door and from where we stood next to my truck we could hear him hollering, “Police, Mr. Swain. Open the door. I need to talk to you.”

  The door opened and Swain stepped out onto the small deck built onto the front of the trailer. Micky Swain was a big, dark-haired biker with a lot of tattoos and a deep voice. “State your business, Deputy.” Swain wasn’t looking too friendly to Ivan as he lit up a smoke and leaned against the porch railing.

  Ivan stood in front of Swain and asked his question. “The night Buster Tate disappeared, you were the last person to see him,” said Ivan. “We have a witness who says you offered Buster a ride home.”

  “So what? Now it’s illegal to give a dumb ass like Buster Tate a ride home?”

  “Nope. It isn’t. My question is—where is Buster Tate now?”

  Swain shrugged. “I dropped him off at the end of his laneway an
d that was the last time I saw him. If he got himself lost after that, it ain’t my problem.”

  “Thanks for your time, Mr. Swain,” said Ivan. He hustled to his cruiser and took off.

  While Ivan pulled away the three of us jogged along the road to talk to Swain before he went back inside. He saw us coming towards his trailer and shook his head. “Well, if it ain’t the McKenna brothers. What do you assholes want with me?”

  “We want to know where Buster Tate is,” I said. “You know where he is. What did you do with Buster?”

  “Just like I told the deputy, I dropped Buster off at home. Never seen him since.”

  The door opened and Kate, Laney and Carson stepped onto the porch.

  “You have a lot of company staying in your trailer,” I said focusing on Kate the traitor.

  Swain put an arm around Carson and pulled her close to him. “Just the way I like it. My family all in one place.”

  “These girls are your family too?” asked Jack.

  “None of your business, McKenna. You best be on your way.”

  Broken Spur Roadhouse.

  ON the way home to the ranch we stopped into the Spur for a pitcher and a bite to eat. Miss Jane found us a table, gave us all hugs and fussed over Clay.

  “Any news on Buster?” Miss Jane sat down at our table and waved to Ricki to bring us menus. “I popped over to see Mrs. Tate in the hospital and the poor thing is beside herself. The nurses can’t settle her. She’s crying and wailing for Buster to come on home.”

  “She have any idea where he might be?” I asked.

  “She said he’s never been away from home before and he didn’t take any clothes or anything with him.”

  “I wonder if the sheriff did a search of the house?” I asked. “Maybe Buster left a clue.”

  “I doubt it,” said Jack. “I didn’t see anything when I was there. Buster wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer.”

  “I can’t figure out how Bobby Paisley fits into this.” Miss Jane made a face. “If he and Dean picked Buster up to steal Presto, then why didn’t they get charged?”

  “They said they picked Buster up because Doyle Hutton had a cattle job and needed a helper.”

  “So, Bobby is pretending he didn’t know that the cattle job was stealing Presto?” asked Miss Jane.

  “Seems like it,” I said. “He’s taken a step back from the whole mess.”

  “It’s only his word that he didn’t know the plan,” said Miss Jane. “He could be lying.”

  “A lot of people are lying,” said Clay, “and there is a lot of underhanded shit going on right under our noses.”

  Ricki came with a pitcher of beer and three glasses. “Hi, Logan. How’s your day going?”

  “Not bad, Ricki. Yours?” She gave me a smile and I knew better than to encourage her.

  “I’ve been giving this mess a lot of thought,” said Miss Jane, “and listening to all the talk here in the bar. Not that much happens in Broken Spur so everybody is talking about it, and Hank and I agree on one thing.”

  “What’s that, Miss Jane?”

  “Paul Silverstone is the weakest link and y’all should put pressure on him and make him talk.”

  “Have you been watching Criminal Minds again, Miss Jane?” asked Clay.

  She smiled. “No, Clay, I’m being serious. Hank says Paul Silverstone is a nervous guy and he’s going to be freaking out right about now over what he’s done. He’s lost his job at the bank because who could trust him? Hank thinks he’ll be the one to blab everything to the sheriff. Y’all should get there first and grill him.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You could be right, Miss Jane. We could drop by his place before we go home.”

  Paul Silverstone’s Triplex. Preston.

  I parked behind Paul’s old car and shut off the truck. “You’ve been tramping around all day, Clay, why don’t you sit here and rest while Jacky and I talk to him?”

  “I want to hear what he says, Logy. I’m okay.”

  I shook my head. Clay was pale and weak from the blood loss. He was tired. “You’re not okay. We won’t be long in there. He might not even let us in.”

  Clay opened the door of the truck and winced as he turned to get out. “I’m coming with y’all.”

  We stood together at the door of Silverstone’s unit while I knocked. Paul came to the door, saw us standing there and shook his head. “I don’t want to talk to you guys. Go home.”

  He tried to push the door shut and Jack put some muscle behind it and shoved it open. “Give us five minutes, Paul. You owe us. Because of you, Clay is shot, and Bonnie Sue is dying in the hospital.”

  “I didn’t mean for that to happen, and it wasn’t my fault.”

  “A lot of it was your fault,” I said. “You went along with a stupid plan and people got hurt.”

  Jack was already inside the door and Clay and I followed. We stood in the cramped hallway and Silverstone had to back up.

  “Mrs. Tate had a heart attack because she’s so upset over Buster missing,” said Jack. “Where’s Buster Tate?”

  “I have no idea, and stealing the bull had nothing to do with me. All I had to do was make the phone calls and collect the money.” He held up a hand. “That was it.”

  “How much were you supposed to get for your part?” I asked.

  “Carson promised me half the money.”

  I grinned. “How could she give you half with so many other people in her little scheme?”

  “I’m telling you the truth. She said I’d get half because my part was key to the plan.”

  “How was Bobby Paisley involved in the plan?” I asked.

  “He had to find the truck and the men to steal your bull.”

  “How much was he getting for his trouble?” asked Clay.

  “I never knew that.”

  “Did you tell Sheriff Tucker about Bobby Paisley being involved with y’all?”

  “No, I didn’t think about it. I’ve been too upset about being arrested and losing my job at the bank.”

  “Do y’all have trial dates yet?” I asked.

  “Couple of weeks, I think. I don’t have an exact date,” said Paul. He was so pale and shaky he looked like he might pass out.

  “You should sit down, Paul,” I said. “You look pale.”

  “Thank you. I’m a bit dizzy.”

  We followed him into his living room and sat down. Clay was every bit as pale as Paul and he wasn’t saying much. We needed to get Clay home.

  “Just a couple more questions and we’ll let you be,” I said. “Did Laney, Kate and Harper have a part in the plan from the beginning?” My heart pounded not wanting to hear the answer.

  “Carson sent them to get jobs on y’all’s ranch, so we’d have the inside track on the money y’all inherited.”

  I nodded feeling my stomach roll around. Knowing we were set up from the get-go made me want to puke. “It didn’t take a genius to figure out Carson Wagoner was behind the whole scheme.”

  “Carson and her husband, Micky are a team,” said Paul. “Like… they run cons for a living. They’re professionals.”

  “Micky hasn’t been arrested,” said Clay. “He’s part of the con team.”

  Paul shrugged. “I guess the investigation isn’t over.”

  “Are Laney, Kate and Harper part of the con team?”

  “Not always, from what I’ve heard,” said Paul. “Laney is Carson and Micky’s daughter and the other two girls are cousins? I’m not sure how they fit in.”

  I shook my head. “We better let you rest, Paul. If you hear anything about where Buster Tate is I’d appreciate hearing it.”

  “I swear I don’t know where he is. I don’t even know him.”

  “Thanks for your time.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Tuesday, April 21st.

  McKenna Ranch.

  I hadn’t slept well and didn’t want to get out of bed when the alarm went off at chore time. Clay had moaned off and on through the n
ight and I could hear him in the room next to mine. My brother was suffering, and it made me furious that Harper had shot him. Any jail time she got wouldn’t be enough for me.

  Clint and Jay were already at the barn when Jacky and I shuffled in to help them. “Morning, guys.” They were buzzing around getting things done and cleaning out stalls. Jay was young and strong and worked like a maniac while I barely had the energy to pick up a bale of straw.

  “We could turn all these horses out into the corral today and give the barn a proper cleaning,” said Clint. “No rain in the forecast.”

  “Sure,” I said, “good idea. I want to have a couple of large box stalls ready for any problem births we might have. Maybe you could figure out the lumber we’ll need, and I’ll get that ordered.”

  “Uh huh. I can do that,” said Clint. “We’d need to do a bit of reconfiguring down the back.”

  “We toured the Wynne set up,” said Jack. “They know what they’re doing.”

  Clint nodded. “I’ve heard of their bull operation. The Wynnes have produced a couple of dandy bulls that have never been ridden.”

  “That’s what we’re aiming for,” I said.

  Clint grinned. “Can’t wait until our first wild baby bull is born. Gonna be something.”

  CLAY wasn’t up when I cooked breakfast for Jacky and me, so we let him sleep. He’d been out and about way too much the day before when he was supposed to be resting.

  “Do you think we should go back to Sheriff Tucker with what Silverstone told us?” asked Jack.

  I nodded. “Especially the part about Micky Swain and Carson being married and being con partners. Swain should be arrested if he was behind the whole thing with his wife.”

  “Carson is protecting him, I bet.”

  “Bobby Paisley should be questioned and arrested too. According to Silverstone, he was part of the team who snatched Presto.”

  “I’ll try to make the sheriff listen later today,” I said. “This morning I have Rip and Chuck. I printed off the local spring rodeo schedule and I’m going to put them in a couple of events to see how they do.”

  Jack grinned. “Yeah? That will be fun to go watch them.”