“But Enoch Stevens said you were out to their ranch. Why? Is there reason for me to think Josh might have killed Chad?”
She squeaked. A sound I’d never heard from her. I waited. Trey answered questions about lack of evidence and trying to figure out our next move.
“Okay.” Louise sounded like a ten-year-old. “But you have to swear never to say anything to anyone. Anyone. Never.”
I was so curious I’d have promised anything. “I won’t.”
All my brothers and sisters know if I say I won’t tell, I won’t. Louise hesitated then started in with a weak voice. I plugged a finger in my ear to hear her better.
“This was last fall. Things were not going well. Remember the furnace went out and Ruthie wanted to go to that horse clinic in Fort Collins that cost a fortune? Mose and Zeke had been suspended for that whole pantsing incident. The gas station told Norm they might have to let him go. And Doc Kennedy found a lump in my breast.”
This was all news to me. Poor Louise. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
She sniffed. “No one knew. Honestly, you were in the middle of your divorce, and Diane had that merger. Mom, of course, she was down in her basement creating. Who was I going to tell?”
“You can always come to me. You know that.”
Tears twined in her words. “You don’t know how much I wish I would have.”
I forgot all about Josh now, just wanting to lend my obnoxious, overly involved older sister some support. “What happened?”
She snuffled again. “I don’t know. I suppose in the old days they’d have called it a nervous breakdown. What I did was run away. I drove to Broken Butte and ended up at Froggie’s Lounge.”
“Oh no.” If she didn’t sound so awful I might have cracked up. Froggie’s was the sleaziest dive in Broken Butte. I assumed the Long Branch was the closest Louise ever got to a bar.
Her tears continued. “I don’t know what happened. I really don’t. But I’ve pieced together that I was about to go home with several men when Josh Stevens showed up. He got me out of there and took me to his house. I slept on his couch until about three in the morning. Then he took me home. He and Dad went back to Broken Butte for my car.”
“How are you now?”
Her voice turned sour. “Now? After finding out I’m as emotionally unstable as our mother? Coming to the realization I’m an unfit parent?”
This sounded more like the Louise I knew. “You had a bad spell. It doesn’t mean you’re a flake.”
Tears gone. “It means I have flake potential. I’ve prayed on it, and Norm and I have discussed it. With the good Lord’s help, I’ll never get to that dark place again.”
“I don’t think it’s about never going dark, I think it’s about learning to spot the signs and getting help before it’s black.”
“You have an undergrad psychology degree. I’ve had over three decades of a personal relationship with Jesus. I think I can handle my own life.”
I grinned. Of course. She was an expert, and that’s why she always wanted to run my life. “Thanks for telling me.”
“You swore you’d never tell anyone else,” she reminded me in her big-sister tone.
“I won’t. You’ve given me some good background on Josh’s character.”
I hung up to Trey’s scrutiny. “Do you have anything to tell me about Josh Stevens?”
I chose my words as he put the car in gear and pulled onto the highway. “His pattern is to help people.”
Trey gave me a skeptical frown.
“He helped me out at the Long Branch the night Ted and Roxy were there.”
“How?”
I didn’t need to tell Trey all about that. “He’s done other stuff.”
“What?”
“Not going to tell you.” Good thing I had Bill Hardy’s offer to fall back on, because I might be tanking my career as sheriff on my gut feeling about Josh’s character. “I believe he was at Meredith’s the night of Chad’s murder doing exactly what he said. Helping her out.”
“So naive.”
Instead of throwing a punch to his jaw, I stared out the window at the winter prairie. We pulled behind the courthouse, and ten minutes later my phone rang again.
“Where the hell are you?” May Keller’s raspy yell came through so loudly Trey raised his eyebrows.
Yikes. “I’m sorry. I forgot. I’m not going to make it.”
“Why the hell not? I’m not coming to town again for God knows how long. Get your butt out here.”
Trey put the car in reverse and backed out. “Where are we going?”
I shook my head. “Honestly, May. I’m in the middle—”
“Bullshit. I heard some man ask you where to. Get your clothes on and get out here. You can finish up your fun later.” She hung up before I could argue.
Trey slapped his leg, laughing. “What’s that about?”
“Never mind. Go back to the courthouse.”
He gave me an insistent look.
“It’s May Keller, and she wants me to buy her house.”
“Which way?” he asked. I pointed and he turned onto the highway. “We can talk about this case while we’re driving.”
But we didn’t. Both of us retreated into our own thoughts.
The dirt road was frozen so no pings and pocks hit the underside of the car. The sky remained that milky color of unadulterated cold. I directed Trey to a two-track dirt road on the east side of Stryker Lake.
The lake couldn’t be more than twenty feet deep dead center. It was barely long enough for a motorboat to get a head of steam to jerk a skier out of the water before swinging a tight turn and racing to the other end. Of course skiing was prohibited at Stryker Lake. Depending on who lived in May Keller’s house, the restriction mattered or not. When the fun-loving first-year teacher who wanted to be everyone’s best friend lived there, we skied all summer long. My freshman year in high school, Bernard Smith, the bank president, separated from his wife and moved out there. The first time we tried skiing, my sister Diane ended up getting escorted home in the back of the sheriff’s car.
Skiing or no skiing, Stryker Lake was the perennial party spot for teens. I couldn’t help my grin at the scramble they’d have to find a new place. That is, if I stayed sheriff and if I bought the house. Neither of which seemed likely.
The isolation at Bill Hardy’s ranch teased me. No curtains, no neighbors, mornings so quiet you could hear the beating of robins’ wings in flight. No emergency phone calls or citizens bugging me for gossip in the name of information. Heaven.
We rounded the east side, still following the least possible excuse for a road, and stopped in front of an old bent wire fence. The house sat at the end of a narrow cement walk. Three wide concrete steps led to a twelve-by-six front porch. The dull pink stucco house hunched in the cold. For some reason the outside walls of the porch were covered in aluminum siding, the mismatched pink paint scratched and gouged, showing the silver aluminum underneath.
May’s old turquoise Chevy S-10 pickup was parked outside the fence. Overgrown brown grass covered the yard, making the walk look like a yellow cake layer in between plops of frosting.
Trey shut the engine off and surveyed the house. “Not bad.”
The fence needed repair, if not completely replaced. “It’s quite a ways from town.”
Trey gave me a questioning look. “Really? It’s closer to the courthouse than my house is to the station.”
I didn’t want to debate this with him. I stepped out. Quiet. Deep still silence. The view of the lake peeked through four old cottonwoods at the southern edge of the yard. “Those trees need to be trimmed, or even taken down before they fall.”
Trey didn’t offer an opinion. Maybe he was learning.
The BNSF whistle sliced through the frigid air. “That’s sure loud.”
If Trey was aware, he showed wisdom in not pointing out that my parents’ house sat forty yards from the tracks in town.
To the left
of the house, dead tomato plants and withered pole beans filled a fenced garden along with piles of frozen black squash vines and decomposing pumpkins. That would take a lot of work to clean up.
We clumped up the steps. Dirt, leaves, spiderwebs, and even a crumpled Cheez-It bag littered the front porch. Yuck. It felt neglected and unloved.
A slight breeze ruffled my hair and bit at my ears. My hands immediately tingled. Forget about a three-dog night, you could have a whole sled team and they’d still freeze. I gave consideration to pulling out my cap, but decided against it.
Colorless spongy paint chipped the ancient front door, and chunks of caulking fell from the panes of glass. No screen. That had to be a problem in the summer this close to the lake. No drapes to mask the view inside. I turned the old brass knob and shoved the sticking door. “May?”
Her croak came from the back of the small house, from what must be the kitchen. “It’s not in too bad shape.”
With a big window to the front porch and three windows along the south wall, the front room was well lit despite the heavy afternoon sky. A scuffed wood floor ran through to the kitchen, and two doors opened to the left. Those would be the bedrooms.
Trey closed the door behind us and surveyed the room, even through to the kitchen sink and the window above it. “This is great. Look at all the natural light. And that archway.” He pointed to a curved room divider midway through the front room.
I dismissed it. “They probably meant this to be a living room and dining room. But separating them makes both spaces too small to be much good.”
He considered it. “Not really. A table with leaves for when you have company would work here.” He eased past me under the arch. “That leaves room for a loveseat and a chair or two.”
Great. The artist in him was shining through. I stepped into the front bedroom. Two windows kept the bright sunlight theme alive.
Trey poked his head in behind me. He shoved into the room, his eyes lighting up. “This would be great for a studio or office.” He was way too excited.
“It needs new paint and the floor is gouged.” I exited, my boots thudding on the worn wood floor.
He followed me into the second bedroom.
“I don’t think I could get a queen-size bed in here, let alone a dresser.” I moved into the room toward a door.
Trey stood in the center of the room. “The bed is no problem. You could put a chest of drawers in the other bedroom or even in the dining room.”
What a problem solver. I peered around the door to see a pocket-sized bathroom. Guess a hundred years ago there wasn’t much need for expansive counters and Jacuzzi tubs. The antique pedestal sink didn’t allow much storage space, either. I backed out, right into Trey’s rock-hard chest.
He looked over my head into the bathroom. “This could use some work. There’s enough room here for a bank of shelves. That sink is great, though.”
I spared a look of irritation for him and continued into the kitchen, where May waited.
At least she hadn’t lit up a smoke. “The appliances all work. I bought a new fridge and gas stove before Bernard Smith moved out, so they’re practically new. And last year I put in a dishwasher. Don’t know why. It takes nothing to wash up dishes, and then they’re done. But Bernard rode me until I gave in just to shut him up. So there you go.”
Appliances. Dear God, a black refrigerator with a separate freezer compartment, not one snugged inside the fridge that frosted over so it held only one ice cube tray.
I nearly fainted to see a water and ice dispenser in the door. With, help me Lord, the option for crushed or cubed. I put a hand on the appliance to make sure it wasn’t a mirage.
Trey bounded in. “This has some real potential.” His eyes swept the room, noting another window along the west and the one over the sink. “Not much counter space, but you could put a butcher block here, you know, the kind with a breakfast bar.”
May nodded. “The whole place could be fixed up real cute. Just right for a single gal. Private.” She winked at me and her gaze popped to Trey. “You could entertain and no one would be the wiser.”
Trey turned crimson by degrees until he glowed. He pointed to the door. “There’s a basement?”
May gurgle/coughed. “’Course. Washer and dryer down there, lots of storage space.” She opened the door to show a small back porch with a few hooks and shelves. “Garden out here.”
Trey leaned out to look out to the side yard, but I’d already seen the frozen plants.
“I’d go outside and show you the garage, but the cold is hard on my lungs. Doc says I’m allergic to oxygen.” She coughed a little to emphasize her condition.
Trey chuckled, as if he thought she joked.
She shot him a questioning look. She probably wondered what kind of jerk laughed about an old lady’s allergy. She turned back to me. “So when can you move in?”
I hedged. I could wrestle a two-hundred-pound calf, dig twenty post holes before breakfast, wrangle the last donut at a Fox family breakfast, but May had me cornered. “I don’t know.”
My phone vibrated, and instead of ignoring it, I pulled it out with an apology to May and a blessing for whoever interrupted me at the perfect time.
Vicki Snyder’s harsh voice attacked. “What have you got for me now?”
I’d rejoiced too soon. “Sorry, Vicki, I’ve—” May wrenched the phone from my ear. “She’s busy. You get your gossip someplace else, you old biddy.”
May handed the phone back, and I punched it off, hoping Vicki thought it had been May hanging up.
Trey shifted the conversation. “You’ve lived in Grand County a long time, haven’t you?”
This might be fun to watch.
May narrowed her eyes. “What kind of cock-and-bull question is that? My granddad was the first to own land out here. I’ve been here the longest of anybody.”
“Right.” Trey looked properly respectful. “So you know Josh Stevens.”
She put her hands on her hips, plainly annoyed with this outsider’s queries. “Goddamned right I know Joshua and his dad and mom. Black Socks, they were. Not Joshua.”
I hurried to explain to Trey. “It’s sort of like Amish. Not as strict. They have electricity and tractors. But they’re pretty rigid when it comes to religion.”
His nod seemed impatient. “I know.”
“Joshua’s not a bad sort. But he’s no Black Socks, if you know what I mean.” She winked again. With all the wrinkles around her eyes, it might have been a tic.
Trey waited, and when I didn’t answer, he did. “No, I don’t know what you mean.”
May drew in a gurgling breath and gave him a disgusted look. “He’s been playing footsie with someone else’s wife, that’s what I mean.”
We both leaned in. “Who?”
She burst out laughing and ended with a cough I thought might be her last. “You both are like two old hens. But you might find this interesting, being as you’re looking for Chad Mills’s killer.”
“What makes you think Chad was murdered?” Trey asked.
Again, she gave him a look like he was brainless. “I ain’t a dummy.”
“What do you want to tell us?” I asked May.
The look on her face brought cats and canaries to mind. “Joshua Stevens is having an affair with Meredith Mills.”
I didn’t want to analyze why hearing May say that felt like a slap. “What makes you think they were having an affair?” I ought to at least get her source.
She reached up to the breast pocket of her pearl button cowboy shirt and fingered the pack of cigarettes there. “You got your daddy’s ‘show me’ attitude. But I seen it. I share a fence with Stevenses. You know, my Frye pasture butts up agin’ theirs.”
I hadn’t known that and gave it some thought. May’s headquarters was north of Hodgekiss. The Stevenses’ place was north on County Road 67. It would make sense they shared fences.
She pulled the cigarette pack from her pocket. “That last blizzard
we had broke posts and the wires all to bits. I stopped by to see if they’d go half to get Tuff Hendricks to fix it. I’m too damned old to be out there fixing fence, and Joshua don’t have the time.”
Trey’s impatience beat in his eyes. If he was going to spend much time up here, he’d be ahead to learn to let folks talk.
“I pulled into the yard and saw that sparkly rig Meredith Mills drives. You know that brand new foreign-made one?”
I did know the Volvo she talked about.
May raised her eyebrows and gave me that sly grin. “She and Josh come hurtling out of the barn like as if I caught ’em smoking.” She caressed her cigarette pack.
Trey shot me a look that shouted, I told you!
“Okay.” I glanced around the kitchen. “We’d better get back to town.”
May nearly galloped ahead of me. “I’m good with you renting it for a few months until you decide to buy it.”
I gave one last look at the fridge. My better judgment couldn’t be swayed by fancy appliances. “It’s a great place. You shouldn’t have any trouble renting it.”
May spun around and stared me down. “That don’t sound like a yes.”
Trey seemed surprised, but he didn’t comment.
I shoved my hands into my coat pocket. “It’s too far out of town.” My phone vibrated against my fingers, startling me. I pulled it out.
Diane. I didn’t really want to talk to my sister, but she seemed the better alternative. I held up a finger to May. “I’ve got to take this.”
She glowered at me. But the urge for her smoke was stronger than her fight with me, and she waved her arm in disgusted dismissal and rushed out.
Trey said, “I’ll wait in the car.”
I punched the phone on.
“So, how’s the house?” A low sound of static told me she was probably on her Bluetooth in Denver traffic.
“Hi, Diane. No, I’m not busy. The weather is cold here, how about there?”
She exhaled, something she probably didn’t do enough of. “Look, I’m taking Kimmy to dance and Karl to karate. I don’t have time for chitchat.”
I walked through the empty room to stare out the living room window at the frozen lake. “Then thank you for sharing your spare time with me.”
Dark Signal Page 20
