This evening she’d dressed in jeans and a blue top. After seeing her earlier, he realized her attractive figure would stand out in anything she wore. He felt her eyes on him as he walked up to her.
“Good evening, Mrs. Fleming. I take it your son is in bed.” He put the shoebox on the cement.
“And hopefully asleep. Thank you for coming. This is the box.”
He hunkered down and opened it. Inside were four worn ball joints. As he took the lid off the shoebox, he heard her slight gasp. “I—Is that the ball joint that caused the accident?” she stammered.
The tremor in her voice tugged at his emotions. Holden knew more than anyone what it was like to be reminded of the spouse you’d loved and lost.
“Yes. It was still in the evidence room. If you don’t mind, I’m going to put everything in my truck and take it to forensics in the morning for testing. Then I’ll come in the house so I can ask you some questions.”
“I’ll open the front door for you.”
“Tell me something. Did you buy your Dodge Charger new or used?”
“New. It had 120,000 miles on it when Trent decided to replace the ball joints.”
“That’s important to know. I’ll be right back.”
He put the boxes on the rear seat and returned to the house. She led him through the foyer to the living room with its traditional decor. Holden admired the framed photographs of The Winds and several still-life paintings hanging on the walls.
On the end tables and mantel over the fireplace were photos of her son and family. Her home had charm and warmth. There was nothing like a woman’s touch. When he’d moved here, he hadn’t had Cynthia who would have made his new house into their home.
“Please sit down. Can I offer you something to drink? Coffee or tea? Or maybe a soda?”
“Nothing, thank you.” He chose one of the upholstered chairs.
“All right.” She sank down on the end of the couch.
“If I find a criminal act has been committed, then I’ll conduct a full investigation. For now it’s important I get a picture of your life and relatives, the friends you see.”
“I understand.”
He pulled his digital recorder out of his shirt pocket and placed it on the coffee table. “I prefer to record the information so I don’t miss anything.”
She nodded.
“What’s your full name and age?”
“Jessica Stevens Fleming. I’m almost twenty-seven.”
“Where were you born? Give me some details about your family.”
“Riverside, California, where my father Wayne Stevens was born. He was a former bull rider in the rodeo. Later he did stunt work for the movies, but he was killed when I was twelve. My mother, Erica Harrison, was born here in Whitebark, but went to college in California. She met my father at the rodeo.
“They married fast and she became a cosmetologist to help support them. After his death, we moved here to be with her parents, the Harrisons, on their ranch. Since then they’ve both passed away and she rents the ranch to a family while she lives in town over the beauty shop.”
He nodded. “Now tell me about your husband and his family.”
“Trent was born here. His parents and aunt died early in a plane accident so his Uncle Paul raised him in this house. He was a horse person and a mechanic on the side until he died. In high school, Trent did bull riding like my father, and he won some local rodeos sponsored by the Wyoming Rodeo Association before joining the Pro Rodeo Association.
“But by then Trent and I wanted to get married. His uncle urged him to give up the rodeo and learn to be a mechanic so he could make a steady living. When his uncle died, Trent inherited this ranch and the horses.”
“Did you and your husband ride?”
“Yes. I’m trying to get Chase interested, but so far he’s afraid.”
“I bet he gets over that in time.” Holden looked around. “You’ve created a lovely home. I especially like the pictures of the mountains. They’re spectacular. Who’s the photographer?”
“I am. I like to dabble.”
“I’m impressed.”
“Thank you.”
“How did you and your husband meet?”
“We both went to Whitebark High School and started dating when we were sophomores.” A quick, lovely smile appeared. “That proved to be it for both of us.”
Holden could relate. He and Cynthia had met in high school, too.
“My mother started working at Style Clips after we moved here. Eventually she bought it from the owner and pushed me to get my cosmetology certificate, which I did. I wanted to be an elementary school teacher, but my college plans changed when Trent and I married.
“He got a job at the Mid-Valley dealership and started commuting to Riverton to take classes for a couple of years to get his master’s mechanic degree. Pretty soon we were expecting a baby. I can’t think of anything else.”
“You’ve given me excellent information,” Holden interjected. “Tell me about your friends after you were married, the people with whom you associated, so I can get an idea of your life as a couple.”
“Millie Edwards and Dottie Marsden, who are both married, work at the salon part-time. I’m friends with them. And I’ve stayed close to a couple of my school friends, especially Donna Sills who lives here and is married with two children.
“As for Trent, he had his buddies in the rodeo. After we married, he also became friends with the guys at the shop, but we didn’t go out much because of his long hours.”
“Tell me about his coworkers. This is especially important.”
Jessica went through the list with him, starting with the owner of the dealership.
“When Trent started, there were seven full-time mechanics, the parts guys, two service writers and the receptionist. But since then I’m sure there’ve been changes. The employees I’ve known have been great to me and Chase. In the beginning they would come over to the house and bring him little gifts.”
“Are all the employees from Whitebark?”
She shook her head. “As far as I know I think most of them have moved here from somewhere else.”
Holden turned off the recorder and put it back in his pocket. “You’ve given me enough material to paint a picture. After the forensics lab has gotten back to me, I’ll contact you and ask for more details. Until then, don’t tell anyone anything.” He got to his feet.
“I won’t.” She followed him to the front door. “Do you have any kind of a hunch about this?” Her eyes beseeched him.
“I will have after I do some investigating and talk to forensics. Then I’ll call you.”
“Thank you again, Sheriff. Just being able to tell you about this has helped me settle down. This morning I didn’t think I could. Good night.”
“Good night.”
He would have liked to stay longer and talk to her, but this had been an official call. By the time he reached the ranch, he realized this was the first time in his career he’d been tempted to break his own rule about mixing police business with pleasure.
That rule had been stressed to him by the higher-ups when he’d started out in police work years earlier. To this point, any dates he’d made with women after moving here came from meeting them socially or with friends. Mrs. Fleming was automatically on his do-not-get-involved list.
* * *
Jessica had awakened in surprisingly good spirits on Wednesday morning considering she’d asked Sheriff Granger to investigate what she’d discovered. She could see why he was the sheriff. He not only radiated total confidence, but he had an aura of calm that had put her at ease when she didn’t think it was possible.
The fact that the busy head of law enforcement had come over to her house last evening after putting in a full day’s work showed his determination to get to the bottom of her suspicions.<
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She was still thinking about him when she drove to her mom’s with Chase who got busy playing with his toys.
“Tell me about the sheriff.” Her mother spoke first. “Does he feel you’re worrying about nothing?”
She took a deep breath. “No. Actually, I was amazed that he took what I said so seriously and acted so quickly. He brought the ball joint the police took off my car that caused Trent’s accident. I couldn’t believe it existed at this point, but he found it in the evidence room!”
“That is amazing!” Her mother shook her head. “Does he suspect tampering?”
“I think so, but he didn’t say. In fact, he warned me not to say anything to anyone. He said that after he takes everything to the forensics lab and does some more investigating, he’ll call me. Before he left, he turned on his recorder and interviewed me about my life.”
She bit her lip. “I’m convinced he’ll get to the bottom of this. He...has a way about him.”
“Is he as good-looking as I remember?”
Jessica blinked. “You’ve seen him before?”
“He rode with the police and deputies in the Fourth of July parade last year. Remember I took Chase because you were in bed with a bad cold? I thought the sheriff looked rather handsome on his black horse.”
Warmth filled Jessica’s cheeks because she’d thought the same thing about him when she’d entered his office yesterday about Trent’s death. In fact, it brought a guilty pang to her heart that the sheriff was even in her thoughts.
“Dottie says he’s a widower. I can just imagine he has a lot of women after him.”
Jessica could, too, but she wanted to change the subject. “Let me check on Chase.”
“I’ll go into the bedroom with you. I’ve got a present for him.” In a minute she went to the closet and brought out a new fourteen-wheeler truck that had a little plastic driver for Chase to play with. Then the phone rang.
“I’ll be right back.” But when she left the room to answer the phone, he didn’t go near it.
“Wow! I didn’t know Nana bought you this truck.”
“She didn’t! Seth brought it when he came in for his haircut yesterday.”
“I didn’t know that.”
Chase wouldn’t look at her. “I heard Seth say he might buy Daddy’s truck. Are you going to sell it to him?” He sounded unhappy about it.
“I have no idea.”
“I don’t want you to.”
Her son was having a hard time letting go of Trent’s memory. She knew she never would.
“When are we going to get a new car?” he asked.
“Just as soon as our truck is sold.”
Chase stayed next to Jessica. She didn’t understand. “What’s wrong, honey?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is it because I’m selling it?”
His eyes filled with tears. “I wish Daddy hadn’t died.”
“So do I, darling. Still, I hope you thanked Seth for the gift.”
He nodded. “After he gave it to me, he left because you weren’t here. He asked me where you were.”
She frowned. “What did you tell him?”
“That you were doing errands.”
Thank goodness she hadn’t told Chase where she’d really gone.
“He got mad.”
“Seth did?”
“Yup. He told Nana he’d wait until you could cut his hair. I don’t like him.”
Oh, dear. Her son was feeling possessive of her. “Some people get used to one person doing it and don’t want anyone else.”
“I only like you to cut mine.”
“I love doing it.”
Her mother came back into the room, and Jessica turned to her. “Chase and I are going to go home and fill the little pool.”
“Hooray!”
The three of them went downstairs and outside to the truck. Chase got in the back seat and fastened himself in his car seat.
“Mom,” she whispered, “Chase just told me Seth bought him that truck.”
“Oh, yes. I meant to tell you when the phone rang.”
“He also said Seth didn’t let you cut his hair.”
Her mom darted her a concerned glance. “I think he was disappointed you weren’t here and said he’d be back another time. If you want my opinion, he’s been interested in you for a long time.”
Jessica didn’t want to believe it, but knew it was true and Chase had picked up on it. She and her son were a team. He didn’t want another man changing that.
“To be honest, Mom, I wish he hadn’t brought that gift over. It makes me more uncomfortable than I already am. When Bryan and Eddie stopped coming in for haircuts, I assumed I’d seen the last of Seth, too. I’ve been trying to figure out how to avoid him.”
“If you’re not here the next time he comes in, maybe he’ll get the message.”
“Maybe. He tells me he’s afraid someone else will ruin his long hair and cut it too short. He said he only trusts me.”
“Do you like long hair, Mom?” Chase asked. The little monkey had been listening through the open window.
She shook her head. “Not on a man. Especially when it’s down to his shoulders.”
“How come?”
She shrugged. “I think it makes him look scruffy.”
“I’m glad I look like my dad!” Chase exclaimed.
Jessica laughed. “So am I, sweetheart. So am I!”
* * *
Before taking a shower, a restless Holden looked through the police file on Trent Fleming and read the coroner’s report.
Trapped victim bled out after glass laceration to the brachial artery in left upper arm. Pronounced dead at the accident scene.
It took only fifteen seconds to bleed out like that.
Trent Fleming’s senseless death wouldn’t leave him alone. He needed answers he could give Mrs. Fleming.
After phoning Drake, who would be over later to take care of Blackie, Holden put on a fresh uniform, packed a lunch and drove over to Sanchez Auto Salvage on Wednesday morning. While he waited in his truck for the gate to open, he ate two sausage biscuits and washed them down with the hot coffee he’d picked up for breakfast at Top Stop on the way.
Before long, one of the employees opened the gate and Holden drove on through to the office. He walked inside. “Marcos?”
“Hey, Holden. Que tal?”
“Muy bien. How are things with you?”
“So-so. What can I do for the sheriff?”
“I need help on a case. According to a police file I’ve been looking at, the car involved in the fatal car crash on May 15, two years ago, was towed here. The investigating officer was Luis Canaga.”
“I remember. What happened to him?”
“He retired and moved to Colorado. Can you tell me if the white Dodge Charger has already been sold for parts?”
“Let me look it up on the computer.”
This was a long shot, but Holden intended to look under every rock.
“It’s still here, what’s left of it. You’ll find it over in lot twenty.”
“Can I take a look?”
He nodded. “Come with me. I’m not busy yet.”
Holden followed him through the car graveyard until they came to the demolished white car that had overturned on Trent during a rainstorm.
Marcos shot him a glance. “What exactly are you looking for?”
“Ball joints. There should be three of them, unless someone has bought them off you.”
“Not four?”
“I have one of them.”
“Ah. I’ll take a look.”
Marcos had worked as a mechanic and knew cars inside and out. He walked around to the front of the wreck. Holden took pictures with his camera. It took Marcos a minute. “Here’s one.�
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“Is it old or new?”
He let out a whistle. “It’s new. I’m surprised nobody has seen it.”
“Interesting. What about the one below?”
“This is going to take work.” He got down on the ground for a look. “Yup. Here’s another new one.”
Holden snapped more pictures. “I want to buy them both.”
“I’ll have to get my tools.”
“Before you do that, I want you to check on the other side. There should be one more.”
“I’ll try. That side is pretty well smashed up.”
“Do it for me. I’ll make it worth your time.”
“This must be important.”
“You have no idea.”
He waited five minutes before Marcos raised his head. “There’s another one in there, but I’ll need to cut through to get to it. It’ll take me a little while.”
“I’ll wait if you have the time.”
“Anything for you.”
After Marcos went back to his office for some tools, Holden phoned the forensics lab. He was told that Cyril, the head expert, would be there in a half hour. Hopefully he’d have answers for him. Jessica Fleming deserved them as soon as possible.
Marcos returned and Holden took more pictures. After an hour he thanked the owner of the salvage yard. After he’d taken his fingerprints, he paid him well before driving to the forensics office with three new ball joints in a bag.
He found Cyril waiting for him.
“Holden? I heard you were coming. I’ve done a thorough inspection as you asked. Come with me. I have everything laid out for you.” They moved to the lab. “This worn ball joint from the evidence room is a Duralast. The four worn ball joints in this box you brought in are made by McCoy.”
“How do you know that without a serial number?”
“Our expert on parts can recognize the brands on sight.”
“Did you get fingerprints on any of them?”
“Yes. The results are in the file I’ll be faxing to you.”
“Good. So what can your expert tell me about these three ball joints?” He handed him the bag.
Home on the Ranch: Wyoming Sheriff Page 3
