As she stood, he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into a tight hug. It looked more like he was checking Wynonna for a weapon than giving her comfort.
“Did Doc say anything?’’ he asked, stepping away from her.
“I think he was already out of it when I found him.’’ She rubbed a hand over her eyes, unaware Doc’s blood now streaked her forehead. “He just moaned and mumbled about being shot. Then, he said something else. It sounded like ‘I’m sorry.’ ’’
I glanced at my sisters. Maddie raised an eyebrow. Marty shrugged.
Wynonna was pale, and seemed to be swaying a bit.
“Can somebody find us a chair?’’ Carlos yelled to the crowd.
Within moments, he had a half dozen to choose from. He took one, faced it away from Doc and the nurse, and helped Wynonna sit down. As he did, he ran his hands from her calves to her ankles, giving the top of each boot a discreet pat. He might have been moving her legs to make her more comfortable. But I’d bet he was ruling out all the places she could have stashed a handgun.
He placed another of the chairs right next to her and sat down “Why don’t you tell me in your own words what happened?’’
She took in a shuddering breath. Placing her palms on her knees, she seemed to notice the blood on her hands for the first time. She scrubbed them hard across the fabric of her jeans.
“Wynonna?’’ Carlos prodded.
Finally, she began to speak in a robotic tone. “I left our RV, and was headed over to the trail boss’s campsite. We’ve set all the arrangements for Lawton’s funeral, and I thought maybe Jack would want to make an announcement about it at dinner.’’
Mama hobbled up to join us, using a hickory branch as a walking stick. Her desire to be in on the activity must have won out over her ankle pain. I leaned over and whispered, “A helicopter’s on the way for Doc, who got shot. Carlos is questioning Wynonna, who found him.’’
“Jesus H. Christ on a crutch,’’ Mama breathed.
“I was crossing the pasture when I saw Doc,’’ Wynonna continued. “I ran to him. When I saw the blood, and how bad he looked, I started yelling for help.’’
“And no one else was around when you arrived?’’
“Carlos, you’ve already asked me if I know who did it. I don’t.’’ Exasperation edged her voice. “When I ran up, Doc was on the ground. A cattle egret was the only other living creature I saw in this pasture.’’
“Did you hear anything?’’
“You mean besides the sound of these stupid Crackers all over camp with their cow whips? No, I didn’t.’’
She covered her eyes with a hand again. “I don’t understand who would have wanted to shoot him, you know?’’
She turned to stare at Doc, and all of our eyes followed hers. The nurse leaned over him, urging him to hang on.
“Will he be okay?’’ Wynonna asked Carlos, her voice small and scared.
Just about then, the chop-chop-chop of the helicopter sounded in the distance.
Carlos looked up with the rest of the crowd. “They’ll do what they can.’’
___
Dundee County sheriff’s deputies circulated through the camp, looking for a weapon, and for witnesses who might help explain the events leading up to Doc’s shooting. So far, they hadn’t found anyone who knew anything. Except for Wynonna, that is.
Carlos pulled me aside and asked me to take her back to her camp and keep her there while he briefed the local authorities. My sisters and Mama came with us.
The inside of the Brambles’ RV was all expensive-looking dark wood. The plush carpet was hunter green. The living area featured leather furniture and a flat-screen TV. The sink in the galley was porcelain.
“Can I get y’all something to drink? How ’bout coffee?’’ Wynonna asked, pulling out cups from an oak cabinet in the galley.
“Hot chocolate?’’ Maddie asked hopefully.
Mama punched her thigh. “Whatever you have is fine, Wynonna,’’ she said pointedly.
When the coffee was made, Wynonna started to pour the first cup. Her hand shook so much she spilled it on the countertop. Maddie grabbed a paper towel. Marty took the pot when Wynonna set it down.
“Why don’t you have a seat?’’ Marty said. “We’ll get this.’’
As Marty poured and Maddie mopped, I got up and opened the small ’fridge, looking for half-and-half. The only thing inside was a couple of shriveled apples and a chilled bottle of Champagne. French. I wondered about the special occasion it was intended to celebrate.
Rustling around in the galley, I found sugar, powdered creamer, and a spoon. I put out an open bag of chocolate chip cookies. Marty got up and arranged them prettily on a plate. Maddie scarfed down the first one before we even sat down again.
“Thanks,’’ Wynonna said, looking at us gratefully. “I guess I’m in a pretty bad state.’’
“Not without reason,’’ I said. “You suffered a terrible loss; and now you’re the one who finds Doc. You’ve handled yourself better than many people could.’’
Marty took a bird-like nibble of a cookie. “I think I’d be in the hospital if all of that happened to me.’’
Mama said, “No, you wouldn’t, Marty. The Lord always gives us the strength we need.’’
Looking at Wynonna, who seemed ten years older than she had just a few days ago, I wondered if the Man upstairs had shorted her on that ration of strength.
“Honey, I sure do hate to bother you.’’ Mama shifted to stretch her leg. “But do you mind if I use that little throw pillow to prop up my foot? The one that says When Things Get Tough, the Tough Go Shopping?’’
Wynonna said, “I’m so sorry, Rosalee! I plumb forgot about your ankle!’’
I truly hoped that with Doc Abel underway to the hospital, Mama wouldn’t launch into a dissertation about her sprain.
“Oh, it’s fine, honey,’’ she said, with a wave.
I let out a sigh of relief. Too soon.
“It’s just throbbing a little with all this walking around. Doc Abel warned me to stay off it.’’
At the mention of Doc’s name, Mama went quiet along with the rest of us.
“I know he’ll be all right,’’ Marty finally said, patting Wynonna’s hand. “Those air ambulances are something. And, they can do amazing things in emergency rooms these days.’’
Wynonna smiled shakily at Marty, and then turned to Mama.
“I do feel awful about what happened with Shotgun, Rosalee.’’
“I know you do, honey. And Belle came by to say the same.’’
“It’s sure strange y’all ran into the one thing that poor horse can’t abide,’’ Wynonna said.
My brain sent a signal to the hairs on my neck.
“What do you mean?’’ I asked.
“I thought Shotgun was the greatest horse in the world,’’ Maddie said.
“Well, he is, except for a fear of bees. When he was a colt, he knocked over a beekeeper’s hive in the pasture. He got stung all over. Most horses don’t like bees. But with Shotgun, it’s a real terror. The creatures make him act pure crazy. Didn’t Belle mention that?’’
My sisters and I stared at Mama, who stared right back.
“No, ma’am,’’ she said to Wynonna. “Belle surely did not mention that.’’
A hard knock rattled the RV’s door.
Wynonna shook her head and whispered, “I can’t see anybody right now. Tell them I’m resting, or I’ve gone to bed. Just tell them to go away.’’
All four of them looked at me, waiting. I got up and opened the door a crack. A big man in sheriff’s department green and a light-colored felt Western hat filled every inch of the frame.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Bramble’s had a terrible shock,’’ I said to him. “Would you mind coming back later?’’
“Yes, I would.’’ Unsmiling, he shifted a toothpick to one corner of his mouth. “Tell her Sheriff Roberts wants to talk to her.’’ He rose onto the doorstep, and the
RV rocked with his weight.
“She’s not dressed,’’ I said quickly, closing the door a fraction of an inch.
“I’ll wait.’’ He stepped back to the ground and crossed his arms over his chest. The toothpick seemed to migrate on its own to the opposite corner of his mouth.
I pulled the door closed, and turned to shrug at Wynonna.
She stood up, smoothed her hair, and tucked her cowgirl shirt at her tiny waist.
“Go ahead and let him in, Mace,’’ she said. “Though the last thing I want to do right now is describe how I found Doc, you know? The sight of that blood and that poor man trying to speak is going to haunt my nightmares.’’
She stood up straight as I swung open the door. When the lawman came in, the spacious RV suddenly seemed tiny.
“Sheriff Roberts.’’ She offered him her hand. “Would you like a cup of coffee?’’
He shook his head and looked around. His gaze rested first on Maddie, then Marty, then Mama, then me. It made me nervous to have him looking at me so intently, even though I knew I hadn’t done a single thing wrong.
“Which one of you is her lawyer?’’
Wynonna’s face went a shade more pale. “Do I need a lawyer?’’
“No, ma’am. I only want to ask you a few questions. But I know how rich people are. You folks come prepared.’’
She slit her eyes at him. I saw a trace of the haughty Wynonna I’d seen that first night at Lawton’s cook site. “I can assure you,’’ she said, “I was not prepared to stumble upon a man who was my husband’s doctor and a close family friend bleeding to death on the ground. Now, Sheriff, if you’d like to sit down, I’ll tell you whatever I can.’’
His eyes showed the tiniest flicker of . . . what? Respect? Intimidation? Anger? I couldn’t be sure. The glimpse of emotion was gone almost before it registered.
“I’m sorry, ladies,’’ he said to us, sounding not at all sorry. “Y’all are uninvolved parties. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.’’ The toothpick bobbed as he talked. “We’re investigating an attempted murder. It wouldn’t be right for you to be here when I talk to Ms. Bramble.’’
I was relieved when he said attempted murder. Doc was still alive. At least for now.
___
Maddie and I each hooked an arm around Mama’s waist, nearly carrying her from the RV to Camp Caddy. Marty followed, holding a paper plate with the rest of Wynonna’s cookies.
When Sal saw us limp into view, the relief on his face was evident, even by lantern light.
“I was about to call in the search dogs,’’ he said. “Where the hell have you four been?’’
We told him all about Wynonna, and how shaken she’d been. We felt sorry for her, the way Sheriff Roberts seemed to attack her, so soon after she’d lost her husband. He’d hustled us out of the RV before we had a chance to ask her anything else about Shotgun’s history with bees. That was definitely a line of questioning I wanted to follow up with Belle.
Sal upended my bottle of wine over one of the plastic goblets. One drop dribbled out.
“Well, there wasn’t much left anyway.’’ He looked at us guiltily. “And I sat here all alone for a long time.’’
“I thought you were helping with the investigation,’’ I said, fishing a beer from Sal’s cooler.
“Nah. I’ll let Carlos fight it out with the locals. He and that sheriff have already butted heads. Let’s just say the Dundee County boys aren’t eager for outside help.’’
I could picture it: Carlos, with his Miami manners and know-it-all attitude, would have started off on the wrong foot with the countrified, toothpick-chawin’ Sheriff Roberts. Then, the pair of them would keep rubbing each other wrong, like a wet sock over a blister. I wondered if they’d started rolling in the dirt yet, like Lawton and Johnny?
A gasp from Maddie brought me back to Camp Cadillac.
“Look lively, Mace,’’ she whispered. “You are not going to believe who is sashaying her way into Mama’s camp.’’
I turned to see Austin, wearing a nervous smile and carrying a second bottle of wine. If nothing else, the wine was welcome.
“You’re not going to throw anything at me, are you, Mace?’’ She held out the wine like a shield.
“If I recall, you’re the one with the killer aim, Austin.’’
“Be nice, Mace,’’ Mama said, grabbing the bottle and handing it to me. “The girl has gone out of her way to make up.’’
I mumbled something that might have been “thank-you’’ or “screw-you.’’
“You’re welcome,’’ Austin said, choosing to believe it was the former.
Uninvited, she settled herself into one of our camp chairs. “Now.’’ She leaned toward me, eyes burning with curiosity. “I’ve been hearing all about how you’re some kind of amateur detective. Who do you think shot Doc Abel?’’
“We haven’t had a chance to discuss it yet,’’ Marty said, sounding snippier than I’d ever heard her. “We keep getting interrupted.’’
Meow!
“Well, I have a theory I’ve been working on.’’ Austin plowed ahead, paying no heed to Marty’s insult. “Do you want to hear it?”
“Why not?’’ I shrugged.
“I think Wynonna killed her husband. Doc found out; and she tried to kill him to keep him quiet.’’ Austin beamed like a student awaiting a gold star.
“Do you have any evidence to support that?’’ I sounded like Carlos.
She smoothed her hair. “Woman’s intuition.’’
Maddie snorted.
“That and a buck will get you a cup of coffee at the courthouse,’’ Sal said.
I lifted myself from my chair. “As much as I’d like to sit around and chat, I need to check on my horse. Thanks for the wine, Austin. See you around.’’
She jumped up. “I’ll come with you, Mace. We can talk about the case.’’
Maddie rolled her eyes. Marty giggled behind her hand. Mama said, “That’s nice, honey. Mace could use a girlfriend.’’
“I’ve got two sisters and you, Mama. I don’t need any more women in my life.’’
“Amen to that,’’ Sal said.
I stalked out of the camp. Austin trailed behind me like a puppy dog.
“How’d you start solving cases, Mace?’’ she asked, as we picked our way through the pasture with flashlights.
“I’ve only solved one. And, so far, my record’s not so good on this one.’’ I shone the light ahead. “Watch that big cow paddy, Austin. It’s wet.’’
“Thanks.’’ She sidestepped. “But, I mean, how do you do it? How do you find the clues and everything?’’
“You have to start by being quiet. You have to look and listen. You can’t observe anything when you’re always jumping up, getting mad and running your mouth.’’
She was silent behind me. I thought maybe the hint had sunk in. No such luck.
“People tell me I’m observant,’’ Austin continued. “Maybe I could help you get some evidence against Wynonna.’’
“What’s the deal with you and Wynonna?’’ I asked. “Why do you hate her so much?’’
“Aside from the fact she married Trey’s daddy for his money and she thinks her shit don’t stink?’’
I let that go unanswered. We were coming up to the scene of Doc’s shooting. Sheriff Roberts must have finished with Wynonna, because there he was, arguing with Carlos. The sheriff’s arms were crossed, resting on his big belly. Their faces were inches from one another. Carlos wasn’t yelling. But I knew that quiet, clenched-jaw tone. I’d rather have the yelling.
I wanted to know what was going on, but I wasn’t about to wander into the charged space between the two men. Even the sheriff’s deputies were giving them a wide berth. Plus, if I went over with Austin, she’d surely make some kind of silly scene. So far, Little Ms. Observant hadn’t even noticed the former Miami detective and the Dundee County Sheriff, knocking antlers like two bucks in mating season.
“Why do
n’t we stop by Wynonna’s, see how she’s doing?’’ I made a quick U-turn before the crime scene. “Maybe you can ask her a few questions.’’
“Well, sure,’’ Austin said, sounding surprised.
As we got closer to the Bramble campsite, I heard the murmur of voices. One man, one woman. The woman’s tone was pleading, though I couldn’t make out the words. I put up a hand to stop Austin behind me, and turned with my finger to my lips.
“Quiet,’’ I whispered. “There’s something going on.’’
I pointed to my ear, and then to my eye. Listen. Look.
She nodded, catching on quickly for once.
We turned off our flashlights and crept toward the campsite, approaching from the rear. An outside light on the RV helped us find our way. We hid in the shadows of the Brambles’ stock trailer, peering at the campsite through the trailer’s metal slats.
Trey was on the bottom step to the RV, with his back to Wynonna. She was just outside the door, tugging at his shirt, trying to turn him toward her. He had a beer bottle in his hand.
“I told you no, Wynonna.’’
“Please.’’ She wiped at the tears on her face. “I can’t help it, Trey.’’
“It’s wrong. Daddy’s not even in the ground.’’
Her voice deepened, turned seductive. “You know you want it as bad as me. We’re both hurting, Trey.’’
Austin’s breath quickened. She took a step toward the RV. I clamped a hand on her arm and shook my head forcefully.
“Listen,’’ I whispered. “Clues.’’
She nodded, her eyes boring holes into Wynonna and Trey.
His shoulders slumped. He hung his head. Dropping the beer on the ground, he slowly turned to Wynonna. She took a step toward him. He reached out and ran his hands lightly over her breasts. The moan that escaped his lips seemed to come more from pain than desire.
Wynonna grabbed Trey’s wrists and pressed his hands more tightly to her. Then she dropped her hands to his belt buckle, pulling his body close.
“C’mon, Trey.’’ She put her lips to his, grinding against him. “Let’s go inside.’’
Mama Rides Shotgun Page 20
