Smokin' Six-Shooter

by B. J Daniels

  “I’m in town. I had to wait until my new rental car was delivered. It’s a long story. Did you get another part of the murder story?” she asked excitedly.

  “Yes.” She glanced around to make sure no one was nearby listening and then read the story.

  “The girl is alive,” Dulcie cried.

  “Not necessarily. The person who found her certainly wasn’t very compassionate.”

  “What are you saying? That you think the person in the vehicle killed her? That the killer had an accomplice?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. I guess it depends on who found her that night and why that person wasn’t very kind to her, if you believe the author of the story.”

  Dulcie was quiet for a moment. “I still think she’s alive, but you’re right. It doesn’t mention what happens to the killer. I wonder what the author of the story is trying to tell us?”

  Tell us? Jolene shuddered. The author was trying to tell her something, but Jolene wasn’t sure what exactly.

  “If Angel lived, then that would explain why no one wants to talk about what happened to the girl. She saw the killer. She could identify him.”

  “So why didn’t she identify him?” Jolene asked in a whisper.

  This time Dulcie was silent for much longer. “I hadn’t thought of that. She was old enough to identify the killer. Unless she didn’t recognize him. Still, she could have described him. Unless she was too traumatized to do so.”

  Jolene knew where Dulcie was headed with this. “So you think the community secreted her away so the killer couldn’t find her.”

  “Or so she couldn’t identify the killer.”

  Jolene shuddered at the thought.

  “They found someone to adopt her. Apparently Laura didn’t have any family. It makes sense. Especially if I’m Angel Beaumont.”

  It did make sense, Jolene thought. And that’s what was scaring her.

  THE MOMENT RUSSELL saw his brother drive up, he knew something had happened and he feared it had to do with Dulcie Hughes.

  “I’ll be back in a minute,” he told the ranch hands he’d been working with on the new section of fence and hurried toward the patrol car as Shane got out.

  Russell had been out since sunup, hoping to work off some of his frustration. He would have liked to forget all about Dulcie Hughes, but there didn’t seem much chance of that. Now, he was convinced he’d had every right to be worried.

  “What’s she done now?” he asked before his brother had a chance to open his mouth.

  “She got into a little fender bender on the way home last night,” Shane said, knowing at once who he was referring to. He quickly added, “She wasn’t hurt.”

  “A fender bender?”

  “A pickup tried to run her off the road.”

  Russell swore as his mind raced to make sense of it. “Why would someone…” His voice trailed off as he realized his brother hadn’t driven all this way out here to tell him that.

  “We found a pickup that matches the description she gave us. It has some of her fancy rental-car paint on the side of it,” Shane said.

  “Who? Did you arrest the son-of-a-bitch?”

  Shane held up a hand. “It’s a little more complicated than that. The pickup is a beater John Atkinson keeps down in his barn on his old ranch.”

  “Let me guess, he told you he keeps the key in the ignition?” Russell demanded sarcastically.

  “On the floorboard. He swears he hasn’t used the truck in months and didn’t know it was missing until this morning when he happened down that way and found it in the ditch with a flat tire.”

  “And you believe him?”

  “I do. The pickup reeked of alcohol. If John had tried to run someone off the road in it, seems kind of dumb of him to just leave it in a ditch right beside the road since it didn’t take five minutes to trace the truck back to him.”

  Russell swore. “You’re telling me you think some drunk kids borrowed the truck for a joy ride?”

  “Looks that way.”

  “Bet Dulcie didn’t see it that way,” Russell said, narrowing his eyes at his brother.

  Shane sighed. “Nope. She thinks someone is trying to scare her off this investigation she’s doing of Laura Beaumont’s murder. She even asked to see the file.”

  “Did you let her?”

  “You know better than that on an unsolved case.” He shook his head. “I did go dig the file out of cold-case storage. Brutal murder. The woman was stabbed thirteen times.”

  “A crime of passion?”

  “She did have some men friends, apparently.”

  “John Atkinson?” Russell saw that his brother wanted to deny it, but couldn’t.

  “He was questioned. He had an alibi for the time of the murder. He was with his wife.”

  “Midge.” Russell thought about his visit to the Atkinsons. Now their reactions made a hell of a lot more sense. “Did you ever think that Dulcie might know what she’s talking about? That the killer is still around?”

  “I’m not arguing that. I just don’t believe that’s what was going on last night, given the evidence.”

  Russell wanted to argue further, but he could see it would be a waste of breath. That and the fact that Shane Corbett was a damned good law-enforcement officer who’d been a Texas Ranger and was now a local deputy with a hell of a lot of experience.

  Not that even the best weren’t taken in on occasion by a clever criminal. But this criminal didn’t sound clever. Laura’s killer sounded like someone who’d lost control. Or maybe never had much control.

  “Just tell me this,” he said to his brother. “Was Ben Carpenter one of the other men who were questioned during the murder investigation?”

  Shane seemed surprised. “No, should he have been?”

  “Maybe.” Russell saw that his brother was chewing on his cheek and realized there was more, something Shane was debating whether or not to tell him.

  “What else did you find in the file? I know there’s more.”

  Shane looked away for a moment. “The file had been sealed by a local judge.”

  “Sealed?” Russell asked in surprise. “In an unsolved murder case? I thought they only did that when a juvenile was involved?”

  “I guess they did it because of the little girl.”

  “Angel Beaumont. But she’s dead.”

  Shane said nothing.

  “She is dead, right?”

  “Her death certificate was signed by the same judge.”

  Russell swore.

  “Now don’t go jumping to conclusions,” Shane warned. “The judge was probably acting as coroner back then.”

  “Don’t give me that. You think something is wrong with this case or you wouldn’t have just told me about this.”

  Shane cocked his head at him. “How involved are you with this woman?” He swore as he caught Russell’s expression. “Hell, Russell.”

  “It isn’t like I’m falling for her.” Russell couldn’t regret making love with Dulcie, no matter how big a fool move it had been. “She’ll be gone back to Chicago soon.”

  Shane was shaking his head and frowning. “Look,” he said. “I found something in the file. I’m sure Dulcie is going to find out about it sooner or later. Maybe sooner and from someone who cares about her would be better.”

  Russell held his breath.

  “Laura Beaumont’s maiden name was Hughes. She was the daughter of Brad and Kathy Hughes of Chicago—and the mother of two daughters. Angel was the oldest.”

  Chapter Ten

  After making plans to meet Jolene later, Dulcie called Renada. She felt terrible for not doing it sooner.

  “Honey, you sound awful. Put the property up for sale and get out of there,” Renada said.

  “It’s not that simple.” She had skipped telling her friend about Laura’s murder or about Angel Beaumont. “I still don’t know why it was left to me and until I do, I can’t leave.”

  “How did I know you were going to say that? Have
you at least met a handsome cowboy?”

  “Actually…”

  Renada laughed. “I can’t wait to hear all about it. You’re sure you don’t need me to come out there?”

  “Positive. How is the design class going?”

  “Wonderful! I am having so much fun. I’ll tell you all about it when you get back. Back soon, okay?”

  “Okay.” Dulcie hung up and felt like crying. She missed her friend, but she knew it was more than that. She was scared. She’d been scared ever since she’d heard she’d inherited the property in Montana.

  And it had only gotten worse once she’d arrived here and found out what had happened to Laura Beaumont and her daughter.

  She was convinced she was Angel Beaumont. It was the only thing that made any sense, she told herself, as she drove to the farmhouse. And if there was one person who might tell her the truth it was the rainmaker.

  She’d seen his shocked expression yesterday on the stairs. For a moment she would swear he’d thought she was Laura Beaumont. Was it possible she resembled the woman?

  According to the short story, the rainmaker had known Laura intimately. He would have seen the little girl.

  Dulcie followed the banging of his hammer, heard it slow as she approached, and then cease. The rainmaker raised his head as if he’d sensed her more than had seen her coming.

  With one filthy hand, he pushed back his hat and leveled those malevolent dark eyes at her.

  “What do you want?” he asked, his sandpaper voice grating.

  “You knew Laura Beaumont.”

  His expression didn’t change.

  “I know you were her lover.”

  One eyebrow lifted, but he still said nothing.

  “I need to know about her and her daughter.”

  He chuckled at that, a dry, rusty sound. “You need to mind your own business.”

  “It is my business. If you know who killed her—”

  “If I knew, he’d be dead.” The words snapped like a whip.

  Dulcie swallowed, not doubting for an instant that he meant it. “I saw your expression yesterday when you glanced up as I came down the stairs. Do I look like Laura?”

  “I have work to do.” He reached for his sledgehammer.

  She grabbed his arm. It was hard and strong as the steel he pounded. “Please, I have to know why you thought I was Laura Beaumont.”

  “You’re not.” He jerked his arm free.

  “I could be her daughter, Angel.”

  The dark eyes narrowed. “You’re not.”

  “How do you know that?”

  A thin, cold smile curled his lips. “I’m sure. Go home before you get hurt.”

  “Are you threatening me?” Her voice betrayed her and broke, making him smile as he picked up the sledgehammer.

  “Leave me alone.” He turned his back on her. As he swung the hammer, she had to jump back. He brought the sledge down hard on the top of the steel pipe. The deafening sound rang in her ears long after she left.

  RUSSELL HAD RIDDEN OUT this morning to help with the fence. Now he realized that he could get to the old Beaumont place faster by horseback than returning to the ranch for his pickup.

  He needed the fresh air anyway. The news his brother had given him only made him more afraid for Dulcie.

  That Dulcie had been right about a possible cover-up only made him more anxious. Now there definitely seemed to be a question as to whether or not Angel Beaumont was really dead. If Angel had seen the killer, that would explain why her mother’s murder file had been sealed. Someone had wanted the townspeople to believe that Angel was dead.

  But was she?

  It was all speculation with few facts and he knew better than to jump to too many conclusions at this point.

  Or had sealing the file been about protecting the second daughter so she didn’t end up like Angel?

  As he rode past part of the Atkinson place, he saw John standing out by his barn and on impulse rode over. John shielded his eyes and, seeing him, let out a curse.

  “Let’s see this old truck my brother told me about,” Russell said as he dismounted.

  “What are you doing, getting involved in this?” John demanded. “It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

  “Seems to have something to do with Dulcie Hughes, though, doesn’t it?”

  John shook his head irritably. “I told your brother—”

  “I know what you told my brother and I know what you told me yesterday. How about telling me the truth?”

  “Damn it, I didn’t have anything to do with that woman being run off the road last night.”

  “But you did have something to do with Laura Beaumont.”

  “I suppose your brother the deputy already told you I had an affair with Laura.”

  “Actually, I figured that out on my own.”

  “Midge knows all about it.”

  “Is that why she gave you an alibi the day of the murder?”

  John looked angry again. “I didn’t kill Laura. I loved her. I was planning to leave Midge for her if—”

  “If what?”

  “If she hadn’t dumped me for someone else, all right?”

  “Who?”

  John looked away, his jaw set, and for a moment Russell thought he wouldn’t answer. “Ben Carpenter. At least that’s who I saw going into her house right after I left.”

  “You must have been angry enough to kill her.”

  John swore and started to walk away, but turned back. “I loved her. I wouldn’t have hurt her for…” He wagged his head, looking miserable. “I would have done anything for her.”

  “What about Midge?”

  “What about her?”

  “If she found out about you and Laura, maybe—”

  “She’d known for months. She was the one who told me there were other men. I didn’t believe her until I saw it for myself.”

  “And you did nothing?”

  John let out a humorless laugh. “Wrong. I did something. I crawled back to my wife and begged her forgiveness.”

  “Is that when you moved to the other ranch?”

  John nodded, looking shamefaced. “And before you bother to ask, I was cleaning out one of the bedrooms to move our stuff in when I heard about Laura. It damn near killed me. I’ve never gotten over Laura. I never will.”

  “So tell me what you know about Laura and her two daughters.”

  DULCIE HAD SEARCHED the house for hours. She had just stepped out for a breath of fresh air when she saw the lone rider coming over the hill across the road.

  She’d wondered if Russell’s brother would tell him about the pickup that had tried to run her off the road. It had surprised her she hadn’t heard from Russ. She’d expected him to come tearing up, angry and scared and dispensing more good advice.

  One look at the expression on his handsome face now, though, and she knew he must have only just heard about last night.

  She leaned against the side of the house in the shade and watched as he rode the large buckskin horse into her yard. He swung off the horse like a man as at home in a saddle as on a four-wheeler or driving a combine.

  She hadn’t been able to help the small thrill she had felt seeing him astride the horse. Riding to her rescue, she thought with a grin.

  “Something amusing?” he asked as he walked to the bottom of the porch steps.

  “Just admiring you in the saddle.”

  He climbed the steps in long strides that brought him right to her. She could tell by the look on his face that he wasn’t here to make love to her again.

  “My brother tell you that he found the pickup that ran you off the road?” he asked. “He thinks some kids took it from an old barn, picked up some booze and went for a joy ride.”

  Her brown eyes narrowed. “What do you think?”

  “I think anyone who knows John knows about that pickup. They probably saw your car parked where we left it yesterday evening and just waited at a distance for you to return.”
r />   “So you think it was a warning, too?”

  He shook his head. “A warning would have been a note tacked on your door.”

  She thought about the note Jolene told her had been tucked under her windshield wiper. Watch your step.

  She nodded, her gaze locked with his.

  He dragged his away. “You look good.”

  “I’ll just bet after being in that house all day, digging into every dirty corner I could find.”

  “I take it you didn’t find anything?”

  She shook her head.

  Russell glanced toward the house behind her. “You searched the whole place?”

  She nodded.

  “Then maybe it’s time for you to go back to Chicago.”

  That took her by surprise. “Just when we’re having so much fun?” she said, trying to make light of it.

  “I stopped having fun when someone tried to hurt you,” he said quietly, his incredible blue eyes locking with hers.

  Dulcie swallowed the lump in her throat as she saw that he was no longer teasing. He was dead serious and she felt the intensity of his gaze all the way down to her toes.

  “There is something I need to tell you,” he said and she felt her heart drop. “You’ve been trying to find out about Laura Beaumont’s past…”

  She saw it in his face. He was about to deliver some devastating news.

  “Laura’s maiden name was Hughes. She was the daughter of Brad and Kathy Hughes of Chicago. She had two daughters.”

  Dulcie grabbed the porch railing as the world tilted crazily and suddenly she could no longer get enough oxygen into her lungs.

  RUSSELL STEPPED UP BEHIND her and wrapped his arms around her. He could feel her shock, her pain, her disbelief in the rigid muscles of her body.

  He’d feared what this would do to her, finding out that the murdered woman who’d lived in this house had been her mother and that the little girl who had died was her sister.

  Dulcie was strong, stronger than any woman he’d ever met, but was she strong enough to get past this?

  Her words came out a whisper. “The oldest daughter? What was her name?”

  “Angel Lee.”

  “And the youngest?”

  He swallowed. “Dulcie Ann.”