“A fine fish nevertheless. You’re obviously a world-class angler.”
“Did you really bring me in here to talk about fishing?”
“Partly. But if you’re getting impatient …”
“I am.”
“All right, then. Let’s move on to the next thing. Danny McHenry meant a lot to me. He was almost like a son.” Horton glared at him. “I’d feel a lot better just hearing what happened from you directly.”
“Sorry. Can’t talk. Sheriff’s orders.”
“Of course. I should have expected it. Anyway, the word on the street is that they’re about to make an arrest pretty soon.”
“Who told you that?”
“Now don’t get excited. It does seem that everything points at his sister. I sure would hate for that to be true. She seems like such a nice young lady.” He paused. “Stubborn and opinionated, but nice. I sure hope nothing unpleasant happens to her.”
“Like hay dropping from a barn door?” said Sam innocently.
Radio gave Sam a contemptuous stare, then continued, “Anything could happen, of course, but I have a feeling that Miss McHenry’s troubles are more apt to be of the legal variety than in the occupational safety line.”
“You’re blowing smoke,” Gordon said. “Almost anybody could have gone up there and fired that shot. “For that matter, where were you at ten o’clock this morning?”
Radio’s body tensed and his eyes narrowed, but he kept himself under control. “Me? I was at our camp on the West Buchanan with about ten witnesses watching me the whole time. That’s nine more than you have.”
Gordon enjoyed having drawn a reaction, and he quickly thought of another arrow to fire. “Anyway,” he said, “I guess that whatever else it did, the death of Dan McHenry …”
“Murder,” Radio said.
“The death of Dan McHenry at least ended the legal challenge to the will.”
“Wrong.”
“Wrong?” It was Gordon’s turn to flinch.
“That may have been what certain people had in mind, but it’s not over yet. The situation has been complicated, to be sure, but it’s not over.”
“I don’t understand,” Gordon said.
“The week before the trial started, Dan McHenry decided it was about time for him to make his own will, so he did. After a few modest bequests, the bulk and residue of the estate was left to — yours truly.”
“You!” shouted Horton. “You?”
“Control yourself, George, or I’m going to have to send you out to buy some groceries. That’s right. He left everything to me, and an hour ago,” he took his cellular phone out of a jacket pocket and gestured toward Gordon and Sam with it, “I talked to my attorney. As Dan McHenry’s heir and beneficiary, I have full legal authority to pursue any and all claims on his behalf, including the challenge to his father’s will.” He pounded the phone down on the table. “Which I have every intention of doing.”
Monday September 13
Some time in the middle of the night, Gordon found himself awake and listening to the noises outside the cabin. The steady roar of the creek was foremost, but he thought he heard an engine running in the distance. He moved over to the window to look, but saw nothing unusual, and after a few minutes returned to bed and fell asleep.
At ten o’clock in the morning the attorneys in the McHenry lawsuit appeared before Judge Hawkins for three minutes. All parties agreed that in light of Dan McHenry’s murder the trial should be recessed for a week. Gordon, who had passed up a morning of fishing with Sam, watched from the back of the courtroom, then slipped out and strolled through town to Harperville’s lone florist. With uncharacteristic hesitation, he considered a variety of arrangements before choosing one he thought would be appropriate to take to Ellen.
It was a cool morning, and the wind coming from the northwest had a bite that signaled the changing of the seasons. Gordon drove the bouquet back to Twin Creek Ranch, and as he arrived, he wondered if he was only imagining a stillness and somberness hanging over it, like the billowy white clouds that from time to time obscured the view of the sun.
Ellen came to the door herself, and Gordon could tell from the involuntary sparkle in her eye and upward turn of the corners of her mouth that she liked the flowers. She set them on a coffee table between a large sofa and the hearth, in which a good fire was burning. He accepted her offer to stay for a cup of coffee.
“It was sweet of you to do this,” she said, admiring one of the blossoms.
He shrugged.
“You left really early this morning and missed all the excitement.”
“Excitement?”
She nodded. “I’ve calmed down a bit now, but I was really shaken when it happened. About seven o’clock this morning, after I’d gotten up and showered, I came into the kitchen to make coffee like I always do. This girl needs her coffee, so I was still half asleep, but when I finally got a cup ready, I went over to sit down at the kitchen table. When I pulled out one of the chairs, I heard a rattling noise. I’ve heard that noise before, outside, and I knew what it was. I jumped back so fast I must have gone clear across the room. There was a rattlesnake under that table. A big one.”
Gordon felt his skin tingling. He didn’t care for snakes, and the thought of a dangerous one appearing inside a house was more than unnerving. “But how did it get in?” he asked.
“It happens,” she said. “They’re around and the doors do get left open. But, God, what a wake-up call.”
“What did you do then?”
“What else could I do? I got the poker from the fireplace and came back to the table. Fortunately, the snake was still there …”
“Fortunately?”
“Of course,” she said. “If it was gone, that would mean it was somewhere else in the house. Anyway, it was back up against the wall and still coiled, so I pulled the table away to expose it. It decided to run for it, which made things a lot easier. I killed it, but it took three whacks to do it.”
“Why didn’t you call for help?”
She looked at him like a stern teacher faced with a not-too-bright child. “Whatever on earth for? I’ve killed rattlesnakes before, and it’s not that complicated. You just move fast and do it.”
Gordon’s mouth was dry and his chest muscles had tightened. For a minute he said nothing, then he took a deep breath and let it out.”
“Ellen, are you sure that snake got into this house by itself?”
“What do you mean?”
“There was that bale of hay that fell from your barn door last Friday. Now this. Don’t you see a pattern here?”
“The hay was obviously done by somebody,” she said. “This is the sort of thing that happens on its own.” She sounded as if she was trying to convince herself.
“Can I ask you a question?” She nodded. “Is the house secure at night? Are all the doors and windows locked?”
“Of course not. Nobody does that here.”
“So it’s possible that someone could have opened a door or window and put that snake in the house.”
“It’s possible, but I really don’t think that’s what happened.”
“Listen, Ellen, some time in the middle of the night I thought I heard a car engine outside. I looked and couldn’t see anything, but I’m really wondering now.”
Her face clouded over. “Some time in the middle of the night I woke up because I thought I heard a strange noise. It could have been a windowsill going down or a door closing, but when I didn’t hear anything else after a while, I went back to sleep.”
They looked at each other for a moment. Then there was a knock on the door and one of the ranch hands stepped into the house.
“Excuse me, Ellen, but I wanted to let you know we put that snake on the trash fire a few minutes ago. He’ll be cremated pretty soon.”
She nodded her head. “Thank you, Dennis.”
“Before we did, we laid him out and measured him. He was four feet, five inches long exactly.”
For a moment, Gordon was merely awed by the size of the snake, but then he began to do some mental arithmetic, remembering what Hart Lee Bowen had said to him on the West Buchanan Friday morning.
“I like to go after them with a stick and a loop myself. I caught four the day before yesterday. One of them was fifty three inches long.”
Gordon turned to Ellen. “Call the sheriff,” he said.
• • •
“It’s been interesting,” said Ellen. “This is a situation that strains the bounds of traditional etiquette. How do you respond to a death in the family, when the one who died was suing the rest of the family and got shot in cold blood?”
Gordon shrugged. They had sat down with coffee after she had called the sheriff. Baca had asked a few questions and said he’d keep the incident on file. That was as much as could be expected. After the call, Ellen was eager to change the subject and Gordon, too, was happy to put it aside for the moment.
“Most of the town seems to be stumped, too. A lot of our friends haven’t called, and I’d like to think it’s because they don’t know what to say. I don’t altogether blame them. And some of the people who have called said the most amazing things. Mrs. Morgan at the feed store actually said, ‘It’s awful what happened to poor Dan,’ then she lowered her voice and almost whispered, ‘But maybe it’s for the best after all. And Mary Ann Snyder, who’s known me forever, asked if it was true that Dan shot himself because he had AIDS and didn’t want to face it.”
“You’re joking.”
“I can see you don’t know what it’s like living in a small town. Everybody thinks everybody else’s business is their own. I’m sure Mary Ann had no idea she was asking a question that a lot of people would have found offensive.”
“Didn’t you find it offensive?”
“Not really, because I know her and know where she’s coming from. To her, that was no different than asking if someone’s cold was getting better. You know, as much as all this is getting to me, I’m getting a perverse pleasure out of these comments. I’m even wondering who’s going to come up with the grand champion.”
“You’re handling it a lot better than I would.”
“What I don’t like, though, is people thinking that I wanted Dan dead because of the lawsuit. He’s my brother, for God’s sake. I didn’t want him to die — just leave us alone and honor dad’s wishes. Even Sheriff Mike was looking at me funny last night and asking some insinuating questions.”
“Ellen, have you talked to an attorney?”
“Why should I do that?”
“It might not be a bad idea.”
“It is a bad idea. I haven’t committed a crime or done anything wrong. Therefore, I don’t need a lawyer. It’s that simple.”
“I believe you, but you’re not thinking straight about the rest of it. My father’s a judge, and he always said it’s foolish for someone under suspicion to talk to the police alone. Sometimes you say something you don’t mean to say and it hurts you or throws the investigation off course.”
“So I’m under suspicion, am I? Well, it’s not surprising, considering the trial and the missing gun, and the fact I don’t have an alibi. But I didn’t do it, and I don’t have anything to hide, and I trust Sheriff Mike to be fair. So thanks for the advice, but no deal.”
“What do you think happened to the gun?”
“I have a pretty good idea. Dan was by the house several times in the last few weeks. I think he probably took it and didn’t bother telling me.”
“Would he do that?”
“Why not? It was his gun.”
“Did you tell Baca about that?”
“Of course I did. He’s probably looking into it.”
“Do you have any idea when it disappeared?”
She shrugged. “The gun case is just another piece of furniture in this house. I walk past it so many times every day I don’t pay attention to it. And Dan’s gun was at the end of the row, so it wouldn’t have been as noticeable as if it was missing from the middle.”
“Can you remember the last time you were conscious of seeing it?”
“Sure. Two weeks after dad’s funeral I made up a list of all the things in the house I thought were Dan’s, plus a few personal effects mom and dad might have liked him to have. The gun was on the list I sent him. Funny, a week later I got the notice that the will was being challenged. Anyway, a week before the trial started, when I knew Dan would be coming up here, I took that rifle out of the gun case and cleaned it in case he asked for it. That’s the last time I consciously saw it.”
“That narrows it down a bit.” Gordon set down his empty coffee cup. “Thanks for the coffee. And I’m sorry you’re having to go through all this.”
“Don’t feel sorry for me. Please. Anything but that.”
“I didn’t mean …”
“No, I know you didn’t. It’s just that I have to get through this in my own way, and I’ll do it. I don’t need pity, but companionship is welcome, so if you’d like to come by and talk some time, I’ll be glad to see you.” She paused. “And thank you for saying you believe me.”
• • •
He met Sam for lunch at Mom’s Cafe and learned that the East Buchanan had cleared and fishing had been good that morning. Sam had caught and released five trout, including a 15-inch rainbow, and was in the best of spirits. Gordon agreed to return to the river in the afternoon, but not until he had talked with Baca first.
“It’s possible her brother made off with the gun and somebody at Radio’s camp has it,” he said. “From what little I know of that bunch, it seems more than likely.”
“And it seems more than likely to me that the sheriff is probably considering that possibility among others,” Sam said. “You know, Gordon, you were a lot more fun when you were trying to be a fisherman instead of a detective.”
“Knock it off, Sam. I have a stake in this. After all, I discovered the body. I’ve never found a dead body on a fishing trip before.”
“Poor guy,” said Kitty, interrupting the conversation as she brought their food. “It couldn’t have been pleasant. A thirty ought six would make a real mess out of a man.”
“It was bad enough,” Gordon agreed. He lowered his voice, “Tell me, Kitty, are people talking about it?”
“Are you crazy? Of course they are.”
“What seems to be the … the general feeling about it.”
“Not good. I’d say about two thirds of the people who have an opinion think Ellen did it.”
“What do you think?”
“I know she didn’t do it. There’s no way I can prove it, but I know” She paused. “What do you think about that rattlesnake this morning?
“What do you think?”
“Excuse me,” said Sam. “What’s this about a snake? Is there something I should know about?”
Gordon briefly recounted the story, and Sam whistled when it was over. “If they have rattlesnakes that big crawling into houses,” Sam said, “I think we should move our base of operations into town.”
Kitty laughed. “There’s rattlers everywhere in this county,” she said. “But you’ve got to get in their face and insult them real bad before they’ll bite you, so just be careful. They were probably all over the place when you boys were fishing below the ranch house yesterday.”
“I never saw any,” said Sam.
“Doesn’t matter,” Kitty said, “They saw you.”
“So what do you think, Kitty,” said Gordon. “Did that one just crawl into the house on its own?”
Her eyes darkened. “I doubt it. That snake didn’t get to be that big and old by making mistakes like this.” Gordon nodded. “How’s Ellen doing today?”
“I’d say she’s tired but feisty. All of this has to be wearing her down, but she’s trying not to let it.”
“Poor kid. I think I’ll go over after closing and keep her company. And it wouldn’t hurt for you to go see her again tomorrow.”
“You really think so?
”
Kitty topped off his coffee cup. “I really think so,” she said.
• • •
“Yes,” Baca said, “it had occurred to me that Dan McHenry might have taken that gun. But where does that leave us?”
“It leaves us,” Gordon said, “with the distinct possibility that Radio or someone in his camp might have used it to kill Dan McHenry.”
Baca smiled. “Maybe you’re right. At the moment, there’s no hard case against anyone, and if I have to run someone in for this murder, it would please me no end for the responsible party to be Mr. Rex Radio. But I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“What’s his motive?”
“He stands to inherit the ranch, for crying out loud.”
“He stood a better chance of inheriting it when Dan McHenry was alive and in front of the court as the wronged son. If the case was over and settled, I’d be a lot more inclined to suspect him. But if he killed Dan McHenry, he’d only be making things more complicated for himself, and the man’s no fool.”
“Maybe something was going on inside that group that we don’t know about.”
“That’s entirely possible. And if I knew for a fact what it was, I’d have something to act on. But I don’t.”
“Aren’t you going to at least look for the gun at Radio’s camp?”
“Didn’t your daddy teach you anything about the law? I suppose I could go up there and talk with Rex Radio man to man and ask for his permission to search the camp. But do you really think for a minute that he’d do anything but tell me to get the hell out?”
“Couldn’t you get a warrant?”
“Let me make this real simple. In order to get a warrant, I have to show probable cause to believe that what I want to search for will be there. The local judge is hardly a bleeding heart, and he has more faith in me than I have in myself. But if I go into his court and tell him I want to search a campsite because somebody who might have been there might have taken a gun from the McHenry house at some unspecified time during the last six months — even though nobody saw him do it — well, I’d get a horse laugh and no warrant.”
The McHenry Inheritance (Quill Gordon Mystery Book 1) Page 10
