Dove in the Window

by Earlene Fowler

  I walked over to the corral behind the barn to watch the horses settle in for the night, letting the sounds of their wet nickering and hooves pawing the dirt soothe me. A few minutes later I overheard voices inside the barn. Loud, angry voices.

  I ran around the corner in time to see the door fly open and Shelby stomp out, pulling hay from her tangled hair, her face dark with fury.

  “Shelby, what’s going on?” I asked. “Are you okay?”

  She glared at me and didn’t answer. I stared after her retreating figure, turning around when I heard someone come up behind me.

  “Shelby ... darlin‘ ... wait ...” Wade sputtered.

  “Wade, what did you do?” I demanded.

  His face twisted into a frown. “I didn’t do nothing, Benni. I was just giving her what she’s been asking for all evening, and then she gets weird on me. Shit. Women.”

  The toxic scent of alcohol caused me to step back. “Wade, you jerk! How much have you had to drink? Did you try to force yourself on her?”

  “I didn’t force anything. She just chickened out when we were getting down to business. She told me it was over between her and that other guy.”

  I pressed my fingers to my temples. “She’s just a kid, and you were taking advantage of a fight between her and her boyfriend. Can’t you see how despicable that is?”

  “She knew what she was doing. She was using me, too.”

  I took a deep breath. “Look, just go back to the bunkhouse and get some sleep. And stay away from Shelby Johnson. That’s an order.”

  “No problem. That woman is crazy, loco. She and that twerp deserve each other.” He shoved his hands deep into his jean pockets and walked off.

  I considered following him to make sure he went straight back to the bunkhouse, then decided that I’d had enough of his and Shelby’s love triangle and chose instead to go back around to the corral, climb back up on the railing, and think about how much easier life was when I was ten years old. A few minutes later, Emory’s voice came out of the darkness.

  “Hey, sweetcakes, you seemed out of sorts this evening. Are you feelin‘ okay?”

  “Just tired.”

  He walked over to me and leaned against the railing. “Sick and tired of the trials and tribulations of your fellow human beings?”

  From my perch on the railing, I smiled at him. Emory always knew how to get right to the heart of what was bothering me. “No kidding. Let me tell you the latest.”

  Wade and Shelby’s sordid tale only took about five minutes, but Emory listened without interrupting, his eyes shadowed in the moonless night.

  He grabbed my knee and shook it gently. “There’s not much you can do about folks who are determined to screw up their lives, Benni.”

  “I know, but don’t they realize how their stupid sexual games can hurt so many people? For what? I just don’t get it, Emory. Why mess up their lives for such a little thing?”

  He leaned back against the railing and looked out into the dark field beyond us. “Because it isn’t a little thing. Sex is a very, very big thing. Of course, our society has chosen to trivialize it by using it to sell everything from toothpaste to family vans. I’ll wager if you quizzed your husband he’d tell you that a good percentage of the crimes committed in your fair county involve sex in some way. It is by no means a little thing. There’s nothing bigger or as all encompassing in our lives except for death.”

  “Why, Emory Delano Littleton,” I exclaimed. Behind me the horses stirred, nervous and snorting. “It sounds like you’ve been involved in some deep philosophical contemplation. Are you getting serious on me in your old age?”

  His soft laugh rumbled through the cold air. “Keep that under your cute little Stetson, dear cousin of mine. Don’t want to ruin this decadent southern Lothario image I’ve worked so hard to create.”

  I laughed in return, hopped down off the railing, and hugged him.

  “Emory,” Gabe said, coming around the corner, “if I caught my wife like this with any other man but you, he’d be carne asada.”

  “Is the poker game over?” I asked. “Did you win?”

  Grinning, he pulled out a small wad of bills. “Arnie was royally pissed at my royal flush.”

  Emory tsked under his breath. “Chief Ortiz, I could report you for illegal gambling.”

  Gabe winked at me. “Brave words from a man just caught behind the barn in the arms of another man’s wife.”

  “And on that note, I’ll leave you two to your good night ritual. See you in the bunkhouse, Cousin Gabe.”

  I watched Emory walk around the corner. “I’m so glad he’s here. I’ve missed him.”

  “I can tell.” Gabe pulled me to him, and I inhaled his musky, gingery scent. “And I’m going to miss your warm body tonight. I think you might have become a habit with me.”

  I nuzzled his neck. “More addictive than jogging?”

  “No contest, querida.”

  We kissed until it was too tempting to continue, then started back toward the main buildings. Just as we reached the bunkhouse, the pine door flew open, and two male bodies fell to the ground, swinging fists and cursing. Sam, Bobby, and Emory followed. It only took a moment in the light from the open bunkhouse door to figure out it was Wade and Kip rolling in the dirt.

  “Sam, Bobby, grab Kip. Now!” Gabe yelled, jumping into the fight. He wrapped an arm around Wade’s neck and hauled him backwards. Sam grabbed the tail of Kip’s shirt while Bobby tried to capture his friend’s flailing arms. Emory stood back, watching the fray, an amused half smile on his face.

  Wade struggled against Gabe’s hold until Gabe tightened his forearm enough to show Wade he meant business.

  “All right, all right,” he croaked to Gabe. “Let me go.”

  “Then cool down,” Gabe snapped and released him with a small shove. He planted himself between the two panting men. “I’m only going to say this once. If this happens again, I’ll escort you both off the ranch myself. If you two want to beat the crap out of each other over some woman, that’s your business, but it’s not going to happen here. There are kids and ladies here, and they don’t need to be subjected to this. Are we clear on this?”

  Neither answered.

  Gabe’s voice dropped an octave. “Are we clear on this?”

  They both nodded, their eyes fixed on the ground. Uncle Luke and Daddy stepped out of the camper parked next to the bunkhouse.

  “C‘mon, Wade,” Daddy said, shaking his head in annoyance at his disturbed sleep. “We’ve got a spare bunk in the camper here. You ’n‘ Kip just need a bit of distance between you.” Uncle Luke grinned and winked at me. He and Daddy were old hands at diverting the attentions of squabbling cowboys.

  Wade shot Kip another angry look before following Daddy and Luke into the camper.

  Gabe walked me back to the house where the living room lights were still blazing. Though it was past midnight, I knew the women in my family; they’d be up until the early morning hours gabbing.

  “I hope Wade isn’t planning on staying long,” Gabe said when we reached the front steps.

  “I’m sure he won’t,” I said. “He’s got a ranch to run.”

  “He’d better watch himself. I’d just as soon lock him up as look at him, to be truthful.”

  “You’ve spent too long playing poker with Dove. You’re beginning to sound like her.”

  He looked down at me, his irritation gone for the moment. “I think your whole family is starting to rub off on me.”

  “And this is a bad thing?” I laughed softly, put my arms around his waist, and slipped my hands in the back pockets of his Levi’s, pulling him against me.

  He groaned under his breath. “Woman, you are killing me.”

  “Just wanted to make sure you dream about me tonight.”

  “Guaranteed,” he said.

  Inside the house I was forced to replay the latest in the Kip and Wade war. I purposely left out the part about seeing Wade and Shelby come out of the barn tog
ether, realizing I’d forgotten to tell Gabe about it. My guess was that somehow Kip had found out about Wade and Shelby’s tryst, and that’s what set off the latest fight.

  “You tell them for me,” Dove said, wiping off the counter, “that any more of their shenanigans, and I’ll be driving ‘em into the chute and rubberbanding them myself. That oughta calm them down some.”

  “She’d do it, too,” Aunt Kate said, sipping a mug of hot cocoa.

  We spent the next half hour poking fun at the general stupidity brought about by testosterone, getting settled down to sleep at about one A.M. Stepping over the minefield of sleeping bodies, I crawled into my childhood bed next to two of my cousin’s little girls. I fell asleep, my last thoughts before unconsciousness being about the huge country breakfast we’d all enjoy the next morning.

  The one we’d eventually get around to making when all the crime scene personnel had left.

  4

  “HONEYBUN,” DOVE WHISPERED. “Wake up now.”

  I jerked up, disoriented for a moment. “Jack!”

  A flash of memory mixed with troubling dreams about my late husband and his brother washed over me, and for a moment it felt like a dam broke in my chest. Dove’s voice had awakened me in the same way it had on that early morning Wade had come to the ranch to tell us Jack had been killed.

  Two of my small cousins stirred next to me, turned, and groaned in their sleep. Their soap-sweet little-girl scents eased me back to reality.

  Dove squeezed my arm. “Wake up, honeybun. I need you.”

  I crawled out of bed and pulled my jeans over my long cotton waffle underwear. She handed me my sheepskin jacket and old mooseskin moccasins, motioning me to follow her. In the living room we stepped over bodies cuddled in sleeping bags and blankets. On the front porch, my aunt Lollie waited, her thin, reddish face contracted with worry.

  “What’s going on?” I asked in a low voice. My breath blew like white smoke in front of me. The sun was just under the horizon, the cloudless sky bleached the color of wood ash. The air was damp and cold, the morning birds silent.

  “We need Gabriel,” Dove said. “Try not to wake anyone else up.”

  “Where?” There would only be one reason why she’d want me to arouse Gabe this early.

  “Up in the field behind the barn. Past the corral,” Aunt Lollie said, hugging herself in the cold morning air. “Lordy, I wish Clarence hadn’t convinced me to quit smoking. I need a cigarette.”

  Dove pushed me gently between the shoulder blades. “We figured it would look less suspicious if you fetched Gabe. We’ll wait up at the corral.”

  I ran across the yard and eased open the pine bunkhouse door. The room was warm and tart with the robust scent of men. I tiptoed across the wooden floor to the bottom bunk where Gabe slept. Sam snored above him, curled up like a huge dog under his dark wool blanket. I bent down and before I could touch Gabe’s bare shoulder, his eyes snapped open, his expression alert as a guard dog’s. It was a habit, he told me once, that he’d acquired in Vietnam and never lost.

  “Querida, what’s wrong?” He swung his legs over the side of the bed, reaching for his Levi’s and flannel shirt.

  “I’ll tell you outside,” I whispered. In a couple of minutes he joined me, sitting on the outside steps to pull on his socks and hiking boots.

  “I think Dove and Aunt Lollie have found a body,” I said.

  “You think?” His voice was sharp as he quickly tied his boots.

  “Well, I’m pretty sure. It’s in the pasture behind the barn.”

  “Who is it?” He walked across the front yard in a long, determined stride. I skipped to keep up with him.

  Blinking the sleep out of my eyes, I shook my head. “I don’t know. They didn’t say.” My thoughts turned to Wade and Kip and I wondered if they’d fought again after everyone had gone to bed. “Was Kip in the bunkhouse?”

  His eyebrows moved toward each other in a scowl. “He was when we turned out the light.”

  We found Dove and Aunt Lollie standing next to an oak tree in the corner of the pasture behind the main corral. Next to them lay a human body. When we got close enough to see who it was, I gave an unbelieving gasp.

  Shelby Johnson stared up at the sky, but she wasn’t seeing anything. Not anymore. Gabe stooped down and placed his fingers on her neck.

  I turned back and looked at my gramma and my aunt. Aunt Lollie had her arm around Dove.

  “Who found her?” I asked.

  “I was taking a walk up the hill to watch the sunrise,” Aunt Lollie said, “and I saw something lying under this here tree. Some crows were circling around. From a distance I thought it was a calf who died or had been killed by a coyote. When I came closer ...” She swallowed hard. “I ran as fast as I could and woke Dove.”

  Gabe stood up and turned to us. “Did you touch anything?”

  Both women shook their heads.

  “How did she die?” I asked.

  “There’s no overt evidence of violence,” he said. “Looks like she might have fallen and hit the back of her head.”

  “You can actually die from that?” I asked. “I thought that was strictly TV stuff.”

  “A blow to the head in the right way has been known to cause immediate death,” Gabe said. “But there’s a good chance that she might have been shoved. Most people don’t fall backwards on flat ground like this without some help. She was just unlucky enough to have a rock right where her head hit.”

  The anger in Wade’s face when Shelby had come out of the barn flashed through my thoughts. Though I didn’t want to contemplate the possibility he could be involved, as soon as I could get Gabe alone, I had to tell him about the incident.

  “Go back down to the house and bring me my cellular phone from the car,” Gabe told me. “This is county land. I need to call the Sheriff’s Department. Take Dove and Lollie with you.”

  “That poor, poor child,” Dove said as we hurried back to the house.

  “You’d better tell everyone,” I told her. “But tell them to stay down here. Gabe’s like a she-bear when it comes to crime scenes.”

  Within the hour the Sheriff’s Department had a crime scene crew there stringing the familiar yellow-and-black tape, and taking pictures, and measurements, and searching the area for physical evidence. I knew enough to stay out of Gabe’s way when he went into his Sergeant Friday mode, and though this was not his official investigation, professional courtesy was being shown to him by the sheriff’s investigation team. The detective on call was a man Gabe had played racquetball with, so there wasn’t as much of the mine-is-bigger-than-yours contest that often took place when a crime scene was claimed by two different agencies. I hovered around the edge of the scene with the rest of my family waiting for some news. Dove kept the younger children inside the house watching videos and making sandwiches and cookies for everyone.

  Gabe, standing over to the side watching the investigators search the grass around Shelby’s body, caught my eye and gestured for me to come to him.

  I ducked under the crime scene tape and crossed the wet pasture. “What do they think?” I asked, looking up into his sober face.

  He scratched his stubbled jaw with the back of his fingers. “Too early to make any judgments. They weren’t real happy when I told them how many people were out here yesterday, and I don’t blame them. Is there any way you can give them a list of who was invited to the ranch?”

  “They aren’t serious? There had to be two hundred people here.”

  “They are entirely serious. Some people will be obvious suspects, but they’re going to have to question everyone they can.”

  This seemed as good a time as any to tell him what I’d seen take place between Wade and Shelby the night before.

  Gabe’s face hardened as he listened. “Tell that to the detective who questions you,” he said when I was finished.

  “I can’t believe he‘d—” I started, then stopped. I didn’t believe Wade would kill Shelby. Not in cold bl
ood, anyway. I could, however, picture him giving her an angry push, her falling back ...

  I chose my words with care. “I really don’t believe he’d leave her out here for someone else to find. If ... and I’m only saying if, he did push her, he’d have gone for help. Wade has a temper, but he’s not that coldhearted.”

  Gabe didn’t answer, but his expression indicated he didn’t believe me for one moment.

  “I know him,” I insisted.

  “Just tell the detective,” Gabe answered.

  Our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the sheriff himself. Gabe went over and started talking to him, and I wandered back down to my relatives gathered behind the fence. They crowded around me like cattle to salt mix, asking questions. I held up my hand in protest.

  “I don’t know anything,” I said. “And right now, no one does.”

  I started walking back toward the house with plans to help Dove when Wade called my name. He strode toward me, his lined face troubled.

  “Tell me what they found,” he said.