Tarnished Remains: Shandra Higheagle Mystery #2

by Paty Jager

  They moved single file down the path she and Lil had made the first month Shandra moved onto the ranch. Remembering the work they both put into making the path easy to navigate while leading a pack horse, she was pretty sure Lil had no idea there was a body hidden in the clay. She’d worked just as hard as Shandra to clear the way and had come up with better routes around barriers. Shandra could tell by the way Ryan had brought up the subject of who the body might be, he was already thinking of Lil as a suspect.

  The best thing to do would be to get the whole bunch off her ranch as soon as possible, then sit down with Lil and a cup of tea and see what she could find out about Johnny Clark.

  Shadows lengthened as they neared the last half hour of the trip. Horses became more skittish and tended to stumble more as they tried to pick up the pace, knowing they were nearing the end of the ride.

  Shandra wanted to be at the head of the group when they came to the ranch to keep others from saying anything to Lil. Especially Ryan. She didn’t need him going detective on the secretive woman. Lil would just lock her lips and toss the key down a toilet.

  But how to get by everyone? There was a section of trail that widened enough for two horses to walk side by side, but it wasn’t long enough to pass them all. She’d at least put herself ahead of Ryan, since the two of them were at the back of the line.

  As soon as the trail widened, she squeezed Apple with her legs, urging the appaloosa to lengthen his stride and pass one rider, then another. By the time the trail narrowed again, she rode only three horses back from Alfred who took the lead off the mountain. Shandra twisted in her saddle to smile at Maxwell who had let her pass when there was barely enough room.

  To her dismay, Ryan was right behind her.

  Fiddlesticks! Now she wasn’t going to be ahead of him at all when they reached the barn.

  Fifteen minutes later the lights from the barn, studio, and front porch of the cabin welcomed them home. Everyone dismounted wearily and started preparing their horses to load in the trailers.

  Shandra scanned the area looking for Lil. The woman didn’t walk out of any of the buildings. She must be in her room in the barn. Indecision nibbled at Shandra. If Lil was in the barn, she didn’t want Ryan finding her employee and questioning her.

  “I’ll take care of the horse. You probably need to catch up with the body.” She reached out to gather Duke’s reins in her hand.

  Ryan moved the leather straps out of her reach. “Why did you move up the line back there?”

  She stared at him in her best rendition of a college roommate who had used narcotics much too often to make her “feel artistic”. “I was tired of bringing up the rear.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “That’s a stupid reason to nearly run people off the path.”

  “I didn’t run anyone off the path.” She placed fisted hands on her hips. “Could it be you were the one who should have paid attention to where you were going? Or better yet stayed in the back?”

  “Listen, you were the one who took off like a hornet was up your horse’s ass.”

  She leaned back and stared at Ryan. Why was he so upset she’d hurried up the path? “If I had taken off at a gallop you could say that, but I moved Apple into a lengthened walk. There was nothing inappropriate about it.” She pulled the reins from Ryan’s hands. “I’ll take care of my horses. Go do your job.”

  “I am. Where’s Lil?” Ryan scanned the corrals, studio, and cabin.

  “How should I know? I’ve been on the mountain all day same as you.” Shandra pivoted and headed to the barn. She groaned inwardly when heavy footsteps along with the clomp of hooves followed her.

  The minute she entered the barn her gaze landed on the crack under the tack room door. No light. Good. That meant Lil wasn’t in her room.

  Shandra tied the geldings to their respective stall doors and began loosening their cinches and unsaddling them.

  She ignored Ryan who walked to the corrals behind the barn and back.

  “You don’t have any idea where Lil could be?” His tone said he didn’t believe she hadn’t a clue.

  “Lil is a grown woman who comes and goes as she pleases. As long as she does her chores, I don’t care what she does the rest of the time.” Shandra lifted the saddle off her horse and packed it to the rack. She turned in time to catch Ryan lifting the saddle off Duke. He packed it over and placed it on the empty saddle rack.

  “Why don’t you gather more evidence? Just because you, Maxwell, and Alfred all think the skull looks like it was bashed in, doesn’t mean forensics won’t find an explanation.” She shoved on his shoulder, spinning him toward the barn doors. “Go get more information then come back when you have it and question Lil.”

  He studied her over his shoulder. “You aren’t trying to keep me from talking to her are you?”

  Shandra hated lying. Especially to people she respected. “I am. I know Lil. If you go at her with all kinds of questions she could clam up, and you’ll only get frustrated. Let me tell her what we found, and then see if I can learn anything that will help you. Break the ice for you.”

  “That’s all you’re trying to do, right? Break the ice, not obstruct justice.” Ryan spun around, grasping her hand. “The last time you tried to prove a friend innocent you nearly got killed.” He pushed stray strands of her hair off her face, sliding them behind her ear. “Let me do my job. It’s safer for you that way.”

  She wanted to give in, let him take control of the situation, but her gut told her Lil was innocent. And though she had confidence in Ryan, he tended to think like a cop and sometimes, she’d learned, it took a little help from her ancestors to discover the truth.

  “You can do your job. I’ll be here for a friend if she wants to talk.” She spun him again and pushed against his broad back. “Go get more evidence.”

  “I’ll be back as soon as I have a coroner’s report and irrefutable proof the corpse we found is Johnny Clark.” Ryan stopped at the door. “In the meantime, stay out of trouble.”

  Before she could retort, he disappeared out the door.

  Shandra let out a huge sigh. Relieved she no longer had to parry with Ryan, she started thinking ahead to how to reveal the information she knew to Lil.

  Chapter Six

  Ryan was still grumbling and shaking his head when he arrived at the Huckleberry Police Station an hour later. The corpse was flown directly to the State Police forensic lab in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. If it had been a recently murdered victim, he would have hopped into the helicopter and escorted the body to the lab. He liked gathering as much evidence as quickly as possible. Considering after thirty years in the ground there was little evidence that could be contaminated, he’d wait for the report to be sent to him here.

  Officer Blane, the overzealous young officer who had Shandra handcuffed the first time they met, sat at a desk smiling. “I hear you caught a cold case,” he said.

  “About thirty years cold. Is the chief in?” Ryan had worked with the Huckleberry police force on several occasions. He liked the chief but didn’t feel all the staff was competent.

  “He’s in.” Blane went back to typing on a computer.

  Ryan continued to the closed door with the placard: Chief Sandberg. He knocked twice.

  “Come in.”

  He entered the room. The chief was of Nordic decent, with shoulders nearly as broad as his desk. His bushy blond eyebrows rose at the sight of Ryan standing inside the door.

  “I understand you were called in for a buried body.” Sandberg leaned back and motioned to a coffee pot on top of the file cabinet.

  Ryan helped himself to a cup and sat in the antique wooden chair with arms. “Yes. Shandra Higheagle dug up a body in a pocket of clay on her ranch.”

  Sandberg leaned forward, placing his large arms on his desk and covering all his paperwork. “Why didn’t she call us?”

  “I guess she figured since it was out of the city limits it fell to the county, which it does.” Ryan took a sip of coffee. He
avoided wincing, having learned in Chicago you weren’t deemed a real cop unless you could drink coffee that could rival battery acid. He turned the conversation to what he was interested in. “How long have you lived in this area, Chief?”

  “Around twenty years. Why?”

  “The skeleton had on fancy cowboy boots and a silver rodeo buckle. Treat thinks he knows who the man is. Some rodeo announcer who went missing thirty years ago. I wondered if you heard anything back then.”

  Sandberg shook his full head of light-blond hair. “Wasn’t even near here thirty years ago. You might get a list of the locals living here at the time from Martha down at the recorder’s office.”

  “Thanks, that’s a good idea. Treat said he read about it in back issues of the paper. Turns out he’s a history buff.” Ryan downed the rest of his coffee. “In the morning, I’ll ask Martha to start up a list, and I’ll check out the papers.”

  “You need any help with leg work, take Blane. He’s been itching to get out and do more detective stuff.”

  From the frown on the chief’s broad forehead, Ryan had the feeling it was more a case of the chief needing his space from the rookie.

  “If I get a lead, I’ll send him to check it out.”

  Ryan stood, nodded to the chief, and exited the office and the building. He stood on the sidewalk contemplating the fact he couldn’t do anything until morning.

  A gnarling ball of fire sat in Ryan’s stomach. I should have known better than to drink that strong coffee on an empty stomach. His gaze traveled down the street to Ruthie’s Diner. The best place in town to get a home-cooked meal.

  He had to eat and it looked like he might as well spend the night in Huckleberry. All the information he needed to dig up was here. He’d spent most of his nights the last time he was called in for a murder in Huckleberry in the back room of the police station. This time he’d get a room at one of the cheaper motels on the edge of town.

  He stepped into the bright lights and country music of Ruthie’s. He blinked and heard a familiar laugh.

  Not unsurprisingly, Treat sat at the counter guarding a large plate of country-fried steak swimming in country gravy. Since Treat was engaged to Ruthie it made sense he’d be here enjoying her home cooking.

  “Detective Greer, what brings you back to Huckleberry?” Ruthie asked.

  “He was the officer in charge of the search and rescue I went on,” Treat volunteered. “Detective, come on over and have a seat.” Treat smacked the stool next to him. “You want to hear more about Johnny Clark?”

  Ryan sat down and placed his ball cap on the stool next to him. “In a minute. I just had some of the chief’s coffee. I need food in my belly.” He glanced at the menu then pointed to Treat’s plate. “I’ll have what he’s having.”

  “Good choice,” Ruthie smiled, patted Treat’s hand, and hustled into the kitchen. She not only owned the restaurant, she was the head cook.

  “What else did you want to tell me about Johnny Clark?” Ryan took a sip of the water Ruthie had set in front of him when he sat.

  “I mentioned to my dad that we might have found Johnny. He started in about how Johnny wasn’t from around here but after his divorce had made Huckleberry his home when he wasn’t following the circuit.” Treat took a bite of his dinner.

  Ryan mulled over what he’d heard. “So Johnny had an ex when he disappeared? Was it a bitter divorce?”

  Treat shrugged. “Dad didn’t say. I haven’t had time to Google it and find out any more about them.”

  Ryan stared at the man. “Treat, this isn’t a game. If it’s determined Clark was murdered there could be a murderer whose felt safe all these years and wouldn’t want to be discovered now. I’d sure hate for something to happen to you and have Ruthie on my back.”

  Ruthie walked up to the counter with Ryan’s dinner. “Exactly. Maxwell, if you do any snooping into Detective Greer’s investigation, you’ll not be eating in this restaurant or warming my bed.” She leveled her dark brown eyes on Treat and arched a black eyebrow.

  “But Ruthie, you know how I like to research.”

  “No buts. Stay out of Detective Greer’s way.” She shifted her attention to Ryan. “If he so much as sounds like he’s been sticking his nose in, you come tell me.”

  Ryan grinned. Ruthie wasn’t a very big woman, but she knew the buttons to push on Treat to keep him in line. “I promise. I don’t want him getting hurt any more than you do. It would look bad if I had to add him to my investigation since he was part of the recovery team.”

  He dug into his steak and potatoes while Ruthie and Treat muttered quietly between themselves.

  Several couples wandered in while Ryan finished his meal. He didn’t know many of the people in Huckleberry, but he could tell by the way Ruthie greeted the customers if they were local or tourists. She knew all the locals and called them by name as she directed her waitress to seat them.

  With his stomach full, Ryan was ready to settle in for the night. The night before he and Shandra had stayed up late talking and playing dominoes. She’d tried unsuccessfully to get him to talk about his life as a cop in Chicago. That was a part of his life he’d rather forget. Being part of a gang task force had put him in more danger than when he was in the military. And had landed him near death’s door.

  At the motel, he pulled out his laptop and Googled Johnny Clark, rodeo announcer. Just like Treat had said the man was divorced in 1980 and was ranked first in the world in bareback riding in 1974. What happened in the years in between? It appeared he married the year he rode so well. Then gradually moved lower and lower in the standings. Until he hit bottom with two arrests, one for drunk and disorderly and one assault. That was in 1980. After the last arrest, he divorced his wife and by 1982 traveled the rodeo circuit as an announcer. There was a photo of him at the national finals in 1983. Ryan stared at the photo. He couldn’t swear to it, but the woman tucked against his side looked like a younger version of Crazy Lil wearing her signature purple.

  Chapter Seven

  After all the vehicles left, Shandra sat on the front porch waiting for Lil to return. By the time the drone of motors faded, the woman walked out of the woods.

  “Lil, come have some tea with me,” Shandra called to the woman before she ducked into the barn.

  Her booted feet hesitated, then shuffled toward the porch. Lil’s head was bent as she stared at the ground. She stopped at the porch steps.

  “I’m feeling tired and would rather just go to bed,” Lil said, not looking up.

  “Lil, we need to talk. You know who that body is don’t you?” Shandra wanted to reach out and make the woman tip her chin up so the brim of her hat didn’t shade her face.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” She did a quick about-face.

  “We have to talk about it. Ryan thinks you might have killed him.” Shandra hated to blurt it out like that, but she had to make Lil see she needed to be prepared.

  Lil spun back around. “I didn’t kill Johnny! I thought he’d run off with someone else. We had an argument and he…he… accused me of things that weren’t true and I slapped him.” Lil grabbed Shandra’s hands and squeezed so hard tears formed in Shandra’s eyes.

  “All these years I thought I was the cause of him not coming back. That he believed…” Lil dropped to the porch and hugged her knees to her chest. “I’ve been angry with him for thirty years. Now I know he didn’t have a choice to come back.”

  Shandra dropped to her knees and hugged Lil.

  “I don’t understand what he was doing there, on the mountain,” Lil mumbled. “There near the clay is the place we’d meet when Gran and Pappy said I was seeing too much of Johnny.” She brushed the tears from her cheeks on the knees of her jeans. “Why would he be at our spot if he was angry with me?”

  “Lil?” Shandra sat beside the distraught woman. “Lil, who would have wanted Johnny dead?”

  “Dead? You mean like want to kill him?” Her fading blue eyes widened.

  �
�Yes. It looked like someone hit him on the head.”

  “Oh no! Why? Why?” Lil rocked back and forth, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  Shandra helped Lil to her feet. “Come on. Let me get you to bed. You’ve had a lot of shock today. We’ll talk more in the morning. We need to have some answers for Ryan when he comes back.”

  The strong-willed Lil allowed Shandra to lead her to the barn, into her room, and even take her boots off and settle her onto the bed.

  Just before she switched the light off, Shandra noticed a wrinkled photo on the bedside table. It was a faded Polaroid of a tall, good-looking cowboy close to forty, and a young, thinner version of Lil. She wasn’t wearing all purple like she did now. The only thing purple was a silk neckerchief tied around her neck. Lil glowed and smiled at the cowboy like he’d given her the world. This must be Johnny.

  Shandra turned out the light, closed the door, and headed to her cabin. There was too much love and admiration shining in Lil’s eyes in the photo and too much pain in the knowledge Johnny was dead for Lil to have killed the man. Tomorrow she’d ask Lil more questions and find someone from the man’s past other than Lil to send Ryan investigating.

  Sheba met her at the door.

  “Where have you been? I could have used your company while I waited for Lil.” She ruffled the shaggy black hair on Sheba’s head and entered the cabin. A shower and good night’s sleep was what she needed after being up late last night and the stress of today.

  In the shower, she replayed the conversation between her and Ryan. Every time she asked him where he worked before he came back to Idaho, he changed the subject. Which she found odd when he’d already told her about his ex-girlfriend marrying his brother. That would be a pretty personal and emotional thing to tell someone. What could be worse than that?

  She climbed into bed and shut her eyes.

  Ella, her grandmother, hovered over the bed. Her smiling, wrinkled face made Shandra smile. Ella, it is good to have you in my dreams again. You have stayed away too long.