Harts Of The Rodeo 3 - Duke - Deputy Cowboy

by Roz Denny Fox

  “True, but Ace knows he put Midnight in a pen behind the barn when he checked the laboring mare at eleven.”

  “If Midnight accidentally got out I’d expect to find him in the field with the broodmares.”

  “Ace checked there first. I’ve gone over and over every step we’ve taken to date. We’ve been thorough, Duke.”

  “That’s what I told Jeff Woods and Farley Clark at the diner last night. Farley suggested you deputize his son, Rory, and his buddy Tracy Babcock. He seemed to think with adding boots on the ground, so to speak, you’d solve the case in no time.” Duke tossed that out obliquely, but wrinkled his nose as Dinah’s mouth fell agape.

  “I hoped you were kidding, but I see you’re not. Does Farley know we start work before noon?” she said caustically. “I hear Rory doesn’t get up before then.”

  Duke laughed. “Jeff said not to worry. Rory and his pal are too into partying with their girlfriends to want to work. I felt I had to warn you in case Farley takes his idea to the mayor.”

  “Ah, well, the mayor will nix it quick. He’s in budget meetings with the city council all month. The last meeting someone suggested replacing all our rodeo/fair banners. The mayor went on for twenty minutes how there’s not one extra cent in the city’s discretionary fund.”

  “In a way that’s a relief.” Duke glanced at the case file again. “What we have so far is this. The thieves know this area. They’re night owls. And they’re growing bolder.”

  Dinah let out an exasperated sigh. “At first they lifted stuff they could toss in the back of a pickup. Now they have a horse trailer. A covered one, I assume, to conceal a distinctive horse.”

  “If you want to follow up on leads where they may have unloaded the last custom saddles of Beau’s, Dinah, I’ll concentrate on getting word out to places where they could sell a horse,” Duke said. “I’ll email Midnight’s photo to Beau and Colt. Ace gave me a detailed description for livestock inspectors and auction barns. I’ll check online newspaper ads for private horse sales. What do you think about starting a blog we can hitch on to some well-known trade bloggers?”

  “Great. But you do remember I’m registered for a professional development class in Billings the first week of August? I need to leave Sunday as workshops start early Monday. I can cancel if it conflicts with any of your scheduled rodeos. Your point standing to make the NFR is more important than my class.”

  Duke took out his BlackBerry. He liked bull riding, and this year had his sights set on getting to and winning at Finals. He also wanted to catch these crooks.

  “I’ll make Bozeman this weekend. I can skip Great Falls the days you’re talking about. Beau never misses that rodeo.”

  “You’re twins, but it’s not as if you’re interchangeable in vying for the Finals. Beau isn’t in the running. You are.”

  “Beau could be in contention. He’s the better rider,” Duke said offhandedly.

  “Huh? Are you afraid he’ll beat you if you compete against him?”

  “No. But, believe it or not, he doesn’t ride his best when we’re up against each other.”

  “As gung ho as he is to succeed at everything? Although, I have noticed he tends to push you. You’ve gotta stop letting him do that.”

  “I don’t let him, Dinah.”

  “Well, you sometimes hang back. Why would Beau let you win, Duke?”

  Duke wondered about that himself. “I agree it makes no sense. But the upshot is, I can easily skip Great Falls. You take your class. I hope you learn new tricks for tracking ranch robbers and horse thieves if we haven’t solved this case by then.”

  “We have to find Midnight soon. The ranch can’t afford to absorb the cost of his monthly loan payments if he’s not standing at stud. What that means is Colt and the hands taking stock to more rodeos, which leaves Ace doing double duty. He wants Tuf to get home.”

  “Speaking of Tuf... Susie Reynolds asked about him. I pled ignorance because I know Ace thinks he’s shirking. Really, what is up with Tuf?”

  “I can’t imagine why he got out of the Corps and hasn’t come home. Mom said he told her he needs time. She’s okay with it. But it irritates Ace.”

  “Maybe Tuf does need time. We can’t begin to understand the hell he’s been through.”

  “You mean, maybe he’s injured and doesn’t want us to see him like that?”

  “Your mom wouldn’t be okay with that. I mean the expectations of this family can be overwhelming. Maybe Tuf needs breathing room.”

  Dinah looked unhappy. “If he can’t breathe on four thousand acres in the middle of Big Sky Country, he can’t breathe anywhere.”

  “Pardon me for saying so, Dinah, but your attitude is a bit of what I mean about family expectations. Tuf may not be up to everyone demanding a piece of him.”

  “We love him. He’d be better off decompressing with us. He should know that.”

  Duke left it at that, and each fell silent until the phone on Dinah’s desk rang. “Sheriff Hart,” she answered briskly, then grabbed a pad and scribbled on it.

  “What’s shaking?” Duke asked when she hung up and left her chair all in one motion.

  “A car went into the ditch on the approach to the covered bridge. No injuries. I can handle this alone if you want to finish the flyer and start the blog we discussed.”

  “Should I call for a wrecker?”

  “Let’s wait and see if I can pull the car back on the road with the front winch on my patrol SUV.”

  “Okay. If you’re not back by the time I have the flyer done, I’ll lock the office and start tacking them up. I may run some out to the two auction barns east of town while I’m at it, and finish up the other half of town in the morning.”

  “It’s a plan. When you send Colt and Beau copies on their iPhones, ask them to print off flyers and pass them around as they travel home.”

  “Will do. The thieves aren’t dumb enough to try and sell Midnight locally. Frankly I wish they were stupid.”

  Being a perfectionist, it took Duke longer to set up a flyer than it should have. He agonized over writing the blog because he didn’t want it too wordy. But he also didn’t want it to be boring.

  Dinah checked in once to say she wasn’t able to winch the out-of-towner’s van out of the ditch. It had broken an axle. “The driver tells me a feed truck passed him too close and forced him off the road. I’m trying to figure out who’s at fault. We have a gazillion ranchers hauling grain this month,” she said. “No one in the van got a license plate number.”

  “That would make your job too easy,” Duke teased. “That’s why Roundup pays you the big bucks.”

  She gave a snort and disconnected. Duke decided he needed a break from the computer and stepped outside to get some air. Zorro had been cooped up with him all morning. He needed the bushes planted between buildings.

  Glancing up as he stood waiting for Zorro to do his business, Duke was surprised to see his dad emerge from the Number 1 Diner. “Hey, Pop,” he called.

  Josh ambled over to join him.

  “It’s unusual to see you in town this time of day. Is everything all right with Aunt Sarah and the ranch?”

  “I ordered pipe fittings for the irrigation system. They came in, and Sarah asked me to pick up a few things at the store. I wondered if you or Dinah were in the office. I planned to stop by before heading home. Any updates on the robberies?”

  “No. Dinah is out on a call. I put out an internet flyer on the
horse. And I printed some off to post around town. I came out to take a break from writing a blog to send out to online trade magazines.”

  “That stuff is all Greek to me.”

  Zorro loped to the curb where the men stood. The arrival of a bus that came through once a week forced them to step back to keep from being in the way of the pneumatic door when it opened.

  Zorro’s ears perked and he growled low in his throat. At first Duke thought it was the hiss of the door upsetting his pet, but then he saw the driver assisting a slender woman with short, silvery-gray hair down the steps. Along with her wheeling suitcase, she held the handle on a harnessed service dog. The woman thanked the driver and asked a question in too soft a voice for Duke to hear.

  Josh seemed rattled by the incident, and he wore a funny look as he watched the woman and dog cross the street to where they entered the diner.

  “Do you know that blind woman, Pop?”

  “A long time ago,” his dad murmured, appearing totally distracted. “I need to go, Duke. Let Sarah or Ace or me know if you get any leads on Midnight,” he said as he rushed off. He recrossed the street behind the bus as it pulled out in a cloud of exhaust.

  Duke wound his fingers in Zorro’s collar because he strained at his leash. It was more than odd to see his dad hurry back into the diner he’d left moments ago. If his dad intended to run after the woman, it was even stranger. In all the years their dad had been single, Duke had never known him to look twice at any available women his age in town. Duke assumed he was a one-woman man who never got over losing their mother. In fact, he liked that idea.

  Slightly off-kilter himself, Duke went back inside the office and sat down to finish his project. But his mind kept revisiting his dad’s behavior. By the time he sent the piece off, he began to think about what surely must have been a lonely existence for a man raising twin sons alone. His thoughts leapfrogged back to Angie Barrington. Numerous times during the day she’d invaded his thoughts for no reason. He shut down the computer and put a stack of flyers in a manila folder.

  Well, he did have reason to think of her. He’d promised to see if he could find a Wild Pony Race team for her son. And depending on the route he took to pass out his flyers, one direction would take him right by Gary and Pam Marshall’s ranch. Dinah’s suggestion to ask about their twins was more viable than any he’d come up with.

  Chapter Four

  Duke posted flyers in town. Many times he had to tack it above or below notices advertising Roundup’s fair and rodeo.

  A couple of bystanders asked him if the family planned to post a reward for information leading to the return of Midnight. Eyeing them speculatively, Duke said that hadn’t come up as they assessed all the items stolen from the ranch. Then he asked what they knew about the robberies, but didn’t get any answers.

  Cal Benninger, a crotchety cattle rancher, groused about the lack of a reward. Duke was quick to point out that the Hart clan and others had congregated to render aid a dozen years back when Cal’s youngest son needed rescuing from a fall down an old, unmarked copper mine shaft. “That’s neighbor helping neighbor because it’s right,” Duke stressed. “No reward necessary.”

  “Not the same thing,” Cal said. “A family member is different than that expensive stud Sarah and Ace bought for the purpose of making a profit.”

  Duke let that go and climbed in his pickup to head on down the road. He knew times were tough, but he hoped not everyone agreed with Cal. Still, he made a mental note to ask Dinah if she thought offering a reward might jog memories.

  He tacked up a flyer on a pine tree across from the lane that went into the Marshall ranch. Pam Marshall answered Duke’s knock while wiping her hands on her bibbed apron. “Duke. It’s a surprise to see you this far out of town,” she said as he ordered his dog to sit. “We heard about the latest robbery at Thunder Ranch. In June, Gary installed five-hundred dollars’ worth of perimeter lights. He got nervous after the Jacksons next door lost tools and tack adding up to several thousand dollars.”

  Duke removed his hat. “We know theft costs are mounting. I’m actually not here about the break-ins, Pam. Dinah said your boys might want to compete in the Wild Pony Race. Do you know Angie Barrington? She’s considering signing her son, Lucas, up, but she’s not fully comfortable and would like to talk to moms of possible teammates.” He hadn’t finished his sentence when two boys, one about Luke’s size and the other taller and heavier, squeezed past on either side of their mom. The smaller of the two boys knelt to pet Zorro. The bigger boy squinted up at Duke. “Luke Barrington is a squirt and a loser.”

  The boy’s mother delivered a stern look. The smaller boy puffed up. “Tommy, Luke can’t help that he stutters. ’Sides, he’s no squirtier than me.”

  Duke had already figured the mouthy kid was Tommy Marshall based on Dinah’s earlier depiction of the twins. A twin himself, Duke was well aware twins could be as different as night and day. He did wish Tommy Marshall was more like his brother.

  “I’ve met Angie, uh, Ms. Barrington,” Pam declared. “She works in the school office. You boys like her. Tommy, you appreciated her giving you a ride home last year when it snowed in April and my Jeep had a dead battery.”

  “Yeah, she’s nice,” Tommy admitted. “But Luke can’t even bat a ball.”

  Bobby intervened. “He tries. Come on, Tommy, we wanna be in the pony race and every guy we’ve called so far has three on their team.”

  Tommy shoved his brother’s hand away. “Yeah, but I want to be on the team that wins.”

  His mother cautioned Tommy again. “If you can’t change your tone, young man, your dad and I may decide you can forget the whole thing.”

  Duke saw the chance for Luke slipping away. He decided on a spur of the moment to sweeten the pot. “If you three team up, I’ll make time to take you out to Thunder Ranch, bring in some ponies and teach you how to work together to get one of you on the pony before he crosses the finish line. Winning takes concentration and team work. Most kids start out okay, but they get hyper and trip over each other.”

  “Deputy Adams is a champion bull rider,” Bobby told Tommy.

  “I know. I’ve seen pictures of him, his brother and his cousins hanging in our veterinarian’s office.”

  “Your vet is my cousin Ace,” Duke said. “He won buckles at a lot of rodeos. We all have. So, what do you say, guys? Do we have a deal if your mother and Ms. Barrington talk it over and agree?”

  Tommy hitched up his pants. “I’ll do it if I get to be the one who rides the pony.”

  “It’s not settled, Tommy,” Pam said. “Your father and I will discuss it. If he’s okay with it, I’ll phone Angie.” She had been frowning at the top of Tommy’s head, but glanced up and offered Duke a tired smile. “Either Gary or I will let you know in the next day or so, Duke. Well, I’d better get back to canning green beans,” she said.

  “Green beans—gross!” the twins exclaimed in unison.

  “Thanks, Pam,” Duke said. “I told Angie I’d get back to her with a possibility. So don’t be surprised if she calls you first.”

  “Oh, good. I want to order a bushel of apples from her anyway. And, Duke, good luck tracking those thieves.”

  He settled his hat on his head. Opening the Ford’s door, he let Zorro climb into the backseat. As he got in and revved the engine, he couldn’t help patting himself on the back for making headway on fulfilling his promise to Angie.

  * * *

  DUKE TRIED
TO CALL ANGIE, but got no answer. The next morning he stopped at the office to run off more flyers to blanket the other end of town. Dinah was heading out to reinterview everyone who lived on Thunder Road. “Maybe someone will recall seeing a horse trailer on the road at an early hour on the morning of the robbery,” she said.

  “Don’t forget I’m going to Bozeman at the crack of dawn tomorrow,” Duke told her.

  “It’s on my calendar. I hope you draw good bulls. Hey, I’m picking up the T-shirts for the Wild Pony Race contestants tomorrow. You can reimburse me for your half when you get back. So, you’d better win.”

  “I’ll do my best. By the way, I followed up on your suggestion to see Pam Marshall. You were dead-on about Tommy being a pistol.”

  “I did warn you. Is it going to work out for Angie’s son?”

  “Maybe. I’ll try to find a minute later today to stop at her ranch and give her Pam’s phone number. It’s ultimately up to the parents to decide.”

  “I think it’s nice how you went out of your way to facilitate things. I hope Angie appreciates you.”

  He wasn’t sure if Dinah was razzing him, so rather than supply added fuel in case she intended to tease him about Angie, Duke mumbled something noncommittal and left the office. He hoped Angie didn’t think he was meddling. But he couldn’t believe how keyed-up he felt about the possibility of seeing her again.

  Driving toward Miles City on the highway, he posted flyers in places where the large font on Missing could be seen from a passing vehicle. With luck the word would make some drivers stop to see what or who was missing.

  Duke rounded a corner and on the opposite side of the road he saw three or four cars parked with their wheels off the pavement. He slowed to see if someone needed help or if there had been a fender bender.