Needled to Death

by Sefton, Maggie

  “Well, she’s certainly not a shrinking violet, that’s for sure,” Kelly joked.

  “I also think she took advantage of my mother over the years. She was always borrowing money from Mom.”

  “Really? Did she borrow a lot?” Kelly’s curiosity piqued.

  “Ohhhh, I don’t know how much over the years, but my mom kept track of it.” Her mouth pinched again. “Jayleen always had problems with money, and my mom always bailed her out. I used to tell her not to be so accommodating, but Mom would laugh and say Jayleen had had a rough life.” She gave a disgusted snort.

  “Did Jayleen pay Vickie back?”

  “Yes, she always repaid the loans,” Debbie admitted, begrudgingly, it seemed to Kelly. “And she hasn’t borrowed any money for a couple of years, my mom said.”

  “Well, that’s good. Probably a sign that Jayleen’s business is doing better,” Kelly ventured, compelled to say something in Jayleen’s favor.

  “Humph. My mom’s the one who built Jayleen’s business. She recommended her to every one of her friends. Jayleen wouldn’t have anything without Mom’s help.”

  Clearly there was more here, so Kelly gambled and probed deeper. “Debbie, I sense there’s something else about Jayleen that bothers you. Not just the money. What is it?”

  Debbie laid the invoice in her lap and stared out into the rapidly darkening sky. “She’s a drunk. Or she used to be. And she was so awful. My mom always tried to help her out. Rescuing her, bringing her home, trying to sober her up.” Debbie shivered. “I still remember seeing her one night, when I was in high school. Her husband left her and took the kids. And Jayleen went on a binge. She was staggering around the kitchen, screaming and crying, and threatening to kill herself. It was so awful . . . and so ugly.” Debbie’s voice dropped lower.

  Kelly began to understand. Debbie’s world was curtailed and circumscribed. Carefully controlled, antiseptic almost. No overexertion, no excess, no throwing caution to the wind. Debbie’s life literally depended on restraint.

  “That must have been scary to watch,” she ventured.

  Debbie nodded. “It was. I always ran upstairs to my room whenever she came.”

  “She’s sober now, right?” Kelly pried. “I mean, I don’t see how she could manage all she does and go out on binges.”

  Debbie stared into her lap. “Mom said she’s been sober for ten years. Let’s hope she stays that way.”

  “Okay, I’ll give her a quick call tonight and see if she knows about that bill,” Kelly said, changing the subject. “Meanwhile, I’ll keep that invoice with the other.”

  “I should go now,” Debbie said, gathering the papers on the table as she rose. She dropped the invoice on the desk. “I hate driving down the canyon when it’s dark.”

  “I’d leave now, too, but I want to get a little further on these entries,” Kelly said, noticing Debbie’s pallor. “You know, maybe you shouldn’t come up into the canyon tomorrow. You’re looking really tired.”

  “I wish I didn’t have to. But there’s still so much I have to sort through. At least I finished with the insurance today,” she said, hesitating at the door. “Thanks so much for all your hard work, Kelly. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

  Kelly gave her a warm smile. Debbie looked as if she needed it. “You’re welcome, Debbie. Now, you take care of yourself, okay? Drive carefully down the canyon.”

  Debbie nodded and gave a parting wave over her shoulder. Kelly found herself staring after her and not knowing why.

  The jangle of her cell phone startled Kelly so much she jumped. The quiet of Vickie’s office had settled over her like a blanket as she stared at the computer.

  “This is Kelly.”

  “Hey, Kelly, Jayleen here. I got your message. Which bill are you asking about?”

  Kelly reached for the file folder. “It’s from some alpaca organization for registration fees. But it’s a hefty sum. Over five thousand dollars.” She sorted through the papers. “Here it is. Five thousand two hundred seventy.”

  There was a pause on the other end. “That’s the bill for the local chapter’s fees for next year’s exhibition. You mean it’s not paid yet?”

  “Nope. This is stamped SECOND NOTICE, and it’s unpaid. My concern is, do we have any more bills like this floating around? I’m really trying to get some totals so I can do the reports.”

  “No no, I get everything paid the very day Vickie asks me to. I don’t understand. She told me she was paying that bill the first week of July. It was already a month overdue. I thought that was strange, because Vickie is almost fanatic about paying her bills on time. Are you sure there’s no entry in the checking account?”

  “Nothing. I checked the bank, too.”

  “That makes no sense. Listen, do you want me to come over and help you look? I’d be glad to. I’ve got some time tomorrow.”

  Kelly debated, then decided against. She didn’t want to upset Debbie. “That’s okay. Besides, I won’t be here tomorrow. Say, that reminds me,” she said, suddenly remembering. “I could really use your help another way, Jayleen. I’m afraid it would take most of tomorrow, though.”

  “I’d be glad to help you, Kelly. Any way I can. What do you need?” Jayleen replied, her voice revealing that Kelly’s attempts at kindness had not gone unnoticed.

  “Well, I have to go to Wyoming with some friends tomorrow and check out my cousin’s ranch. She died and left a lot of cattle and sheep. And I learned today there’s a bunch of alpacas there, too. Now, I’ve got cow and sheep people, but I need an alpaca expert.”

  Jayleen chuckled. “Well, I don’t know if I’m an expert, but I think I can help you out, Kelly. Cow and sheep people, huh?” She laughed a husky, low laugh.

  “Boy, Jayleen, you’re a lifesaver,” Kelly enthused over the phone, deliberately not revealing she’d asked Geri first. Geri had pleaded too much business in town. “Listen, here comes the bad part. We’re leaving from my house near the Lambspun shop at seven a.m. We can swing by your place in Landport about seven thirty. How’s that?”

  “Why don’t I meet you at Harvey’s Restaurant at the crossroads? I like to have breakfast there. Besides, it’s on the way out of town.”

  “That’s great. Thanks again, Jayleen. See you tomorrow.” Kelly snapped her phone off, relieved that the last lingering problem of the day had been solved.

  Surveying the littered desk, Kelly decided, enough. It was nearly nine o’clock, and she was starving. Brewing some of Vickie’s coffee had helped, but that had worn off long ago. She needed to go home. Besides, poor Carl was probably starving.

  The image of Carl-in-Chains, starving no less, spurred her on. She closed out the computer accounts and straightened all the folders that lay open on the desk. Gathering what she needed into her briefcase, she snapped off the desk lamp and left the office.

  Thank goodness she’d remembered to turn on the lights in the great room. The idea of being alone in a pitch-black house where her friend had been murdered wasn’t a pleasant thought. Kelly felt a chill pass over her as she hurried toward the front door, deliberately not looking toward the spot where Vickie was slain.

  She pulled open the front door and fumbled for the keys as she stood on the doorstep. “Darnit!” Kelly exclaimed in exasperation as she searched in her briefcase.

  Just then she heard a loud slamming sound near the barn, and Kelly jumped around to peer through the night. The moon was shrouded, so she couldn’t see distinctly, but she thought she saw the door to the alpaca barn open.

  That’s funny, she thought, as she stepped off the wide porch. Jayleen always closed the doors and dropped the metal hook through the lock every night. Kelly hesitated in the yard, debating whether to approach the darkened barn. She shouldn’t leave it open. Predators lived in the canyon—mountain lions and coyotes. Alpacas were gentle prey, like sheep.

  She swallowed down her uneasiness and walked to the open barn door, even though part of her wanted to run to her car as
fast as she could. Kelly took a deep breath and entered, reaching around the corner for a light switch. The smell of hay and feed floated out to her in the darkened doorway, and she thought she heard the animals rustle.

  Her fingers found the switch, and the barn flooded with light, causing her to squint. She stepped inside, quickly surveying the open stalls and holding pens. Several of the alpacas blinked back at her, then went back to sniffing the smoky gray alpaca in their midst. Kelly recognized Raja, surrounded by the others. Her stomach unclenched. Her imagination was running wild, that’s all. Dark house. Murdered friend. She shook all the images away.

  “Hey, guys. Have a good night,” she said as she retreated through the doorway. Reaching for the door so she could close it, Kelly noticed the metal hook lying on the ground near her feet. She picked it up, flicked off the lights, and closed the door, shoving the hook through the slot. It must have blown off with the wind, she told herself as she walked toward her car.

  But there was no wind tonight, not even a breeze, a little voice in the back of her mind said.

  That thought caused a ripple to run up Kelly’s spine. Had someone been sneaking around the property? She quickened her pace to her car. Whether her imagination was getting the best of her or whether someone had actually been poking around the property uninvited, it didn’t matter. She was definitely not going to work alone at night in that house again.

  Suddenly the deep rumble of a truck engine sounded in the distance. Kelly paused at her car door and peered down the driveway. The throaty rumble revved, rising then falling, like a truck was shifting gears and pulling away.

  This time the ripple turned into real fear. Had someone parked down the road and then crept around the ranch at night? And she was sitting all alone in an empty house, scene of a grisly murder.

  Kelly yanked open the car door, swiftly checked the back seat, and jumped inside. Revving the engine loudly, she locked the doors and zoomed down the driveway, spitting gravel in her wake. Dark canyon roads be damned. She planned to beat all speed records back into Fort Connor.

  Twelve

  “Whoa, hold on, it’s going to get rough,” Steve said as he maneuvered his truck.

  Kelly stared out the window at the deep ruts carved into the long road leading to Martha Schuster’s ranch. “These aren’t ruts, they’re canyons,” she observed as they bounced along, her head barely missing the truck ceiling.

  “Is this the scenic part?” Jennifer asked, bracing herself against the dashboard and the door.

  “You may want to put some gravel on this road before winter,” Steve suggested, steering around a crevice.

  “Is that expensive?” Kelly asked. She hadn’t even seen the ranch yet, and she was already spending money.

  “Well, it’s a long road, so it won’t be cheap. But I’ll give you names of the contractors I use, so they’ll give you a fair price.”

  “Are we there yet?” Jennifer asked in a plaintive voice as she braced herself against the ceiling. “I need three hands.”

  “Almost there,” Steve announced. “See, there’s the house and the barn coming into view now.”

  Kelly spotted the two-story, white frame house up ahead. It was bigger than she’d envisioned. The road curved, and she spied a huge red barn. Then a garage. Was that a triple car garage? A gray pickup, which she took to be the ranch manager’s, was parked in front. Fences were everywhere. From the paved county road all the way up the dirt road leading to the ranch, Kelly saw fences. They seemed to stretch for a mile before they reached the ranch house.

  “Whoa, that’s a good-sized house, Kelly,” Jennifer observed. “And a barn, a big barn, too.”

  “It’s even bigger than it looks,” Steve added. “Wait’ll you get up close.”

  Oh, great, Kelly thought. The ranch kept getting bigger and bigger, and she felt smaller and smaller.

  “Triple car garage, nice,” Jennifer continued, pointing. “And look, there’s another outbuilding. Looks like storage.”

  “Or an office,” Steve said, as they drove into the barnyard area.

  “All this and three hundred acres. Hmmmm . . .” Jennifer observed.

  Kelly could almost see the calculator inside real estate agent Jennifer’s head, tallying market values as she surveyed Martha’s property.

  Her property, soon, Kelly reminded herself and felt a flutter inside her gut. All of this belonged to her, or it would as soon as the lawyers finished passing paperwork back and forth. That old feeling of being overwhelmed settled over her again. “Wow, this is even bigger than I thought it would be,” she said, her voice coming out softer than usual.

  Steve pulled the truck to a stop beside the triple garage, then turned to Kelly with a smile. “C’mon, Kelly, let’s go take a look at what you’ve got.” He grabbed a cowboy hat from behind the seat, pushed open his door, and stepped to the ground. “Hold on Jennifer, I’ll help you out,” he said, then grinned up at Kelly. “I’d offer to help you, too, but you’d just scowl.”

  Kelly made a face and waved him away as she jumped to the ground. “Go help Jennifer.”

  “Oh, yes, Mistah Steve. I’d just love your help,” Jennifer gushed in a perfect imitation of a magnolia-drenched drawl. “This big old door is so heavy.”

  Steve lifted Jennifer to the ground, then tipped his hat. “Glad to be of service, Miss Jennifer, ma’am.”

  “Hey, I’m not old enough to be a ma’am,” Jennifer teased, then pointed to Steve’s Stetson. “Nice hat.”

  “I didn’t know you owned one,” Kelly said. Not every man could wear a Stetson. Some men wore the hat. Some, the hat wore them. Steve looked natural. “Colorado cowboy, huh?”

  Steve laughed. “Part-time. The rest of the time, overworked builder.”

  Kelly walked over to the fence and stared down the road. She spotted Curt Stackhouse’s black truck in the distance, spitting dirt and gravel as it drove. Letting her gaze roam over the pastures that surrounded the ranch compound, Kelly turned slowly in a circle, surveying her soon-to-be domain.

  Ye Gods! Look at all that land. Those pastures stretched for miles—all the way to the mountains, surely. She visually outlined the low-lying, gentle ridges in the distance. Were those cows out there? Good grief. They looked like cows. Lots of cows. What was she going to do with cows? She’d never really felt comfortable around cows when she was a child. Whenever she’d visited a friend’s farm outside town, she’d stayed clear of the big, clumsy creatures. Sheep were different. Aunt Helen and Uncle Jim had sheep when she was a child. She had a little bit of “sheep memory.” But no memory for cows.

  She scuffed her borrowed cowboy boots in the dirt, causing little clouds of dust as she rejoined Steve and Jennifer. “Cows. Lots of cows.”

  “Cattle,” Steve teased. “Don’t worry. That’s what Curt and I are here for.”

  “Think of them as steak, barbecue, and roast beef,” Jennifer suggested. “Can we cook one up for lunch?”

  “I don’t think it’s that easy,” Kelly said, laughing at last as she watched Curt pull his big black truck right beside Steve’s big red truck. “Serious Trucks,” her dad used to call these monsters of the road.

  Curt Stackhouse stepped down to the ground. If ever there was a man who looked like he’d been born to wear a Stetson, Curt was it. A true cowboy, cattle and sheep rancher, and sometime land developer, Curt still reminded Kelly of that brash young cowboy in Aunt Helen’s high school yearbook photo—the photo signed, “Yours, always. Curt.” Kelly had to smile. She bet young cowboy Curt had been a heartbreaker back then.

  Curt strode around the truck, clearly aiming to help Megan and Jayleen alight. No need, Kelly observed with a grin. Jayleen had already jumped down and was helping Megan make it to the ground. Jayleen, like Curt and Steve, wore her Stetson, and it fit her as naturally as her leather gloves. Colorado cowgirl, without a doubt.

  Kelly glanced up at the sun. It was still early morning and not too hot. The wind hadn’t kicked up yet, but it woul
d. Wind was Wyoming’s trademark. She adjusted her trusty USS Kitty Hawk baseball cap—her kind of hat.

  Megan peered out at the landscape from under her floppy white sun hat, her face smeared with SPF 300+ sunscreen. “Wow, Kelly, look at all of this,” she exclaimed.

  Jayleen strolled over, hands shoved in her back pockets. “This is some spread you’ve got here, Kelly,” she observed with a smile.

  Curt walked up beside them, Steve and Jennifer close behind. He stared toward the mountains in the distance for a minute. “Kelly-girl, you’ve got yourself a nice piece of property,” he said, then clapped her on the shoulder. “Congratulations, you’re now a rancher.”

  Kelly visibly flinched in reply, which made everyone laugh out loud. “It’s so big. And it’s got cows. Lots of cows.”

  “Cattle,” Curt echoed Steve.

  “Cows, cattle, whatever,” Kelly said, rolling her eyes. “All I know is there’re a lot of them. Over there.” She pointed toward the mountains. “I swear, this place goes to the mountains.”

  “It’s big, but it’s not that big, Kelly. Those mountains are farther away than you think,” Steve reminded.

  “You’ve been out of the West too long, girl. Been working in those city canyons. Looking city pale, too. You’ve got that computer-green color around the edges,” Curt observed with a sage nod.

  “Hey, I’m working on it,” Kelly protested with a laugh, holding up her arm. “I can’t help it if my job makes me sit in front of a computer all day.”

  “I know what that’s like,” Jayleen chimed in, even though her ruddy complexion belied her fifty-some years. Even her sandy blond hair revealed only a few strands of gray. “But I don’t get on the computer till nighttime.”

  “Well, Steve, you ready to check out some cattle?” Curt asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Steve replied, squinting toward the mountains. “Wonder if that manager has some extra horses we could borrow. It’d be a lot easier on horseback.”

  “Sure would. Let’s ask him.” Curt said. “By the way, that’s a fine-looking hat, son.”