Bitter Truth

by C. J. Carmichael

  “I just wondered how that could happen. I imagine Jack was an experienced horseman.”

  The sheriff leveled his gaze at Zak. “Even an expert can get thrown off a horse. Possibly a rattler startled it. Or maybe Jack thought he heard the missing calf and dismounted to go looking for it. That ledge was narrow. One misstep was all it would take.”

  Interesting that Ford remembered the details so clearly. Maybe Lacy’s death had got him thinking more than he was letting on.

  “No one else was around? You didn’t see anything suspicious?”

  Ford threw down his pen. “Jesus Christ, Waller, what is this? Jack Stillman died a long time ago.”

  Instinctively Zak took a step back. Outbursts made him cautious. “Luke had me curious, that’s all. Whenever the richest person in the county dies, you have to wonder, right?”

  The sheriff’s eyes narrowed. Did he get the parallel to Lacy’s death? If so, he didn’t let on.

  “Get out of here, Waller. If you can’t find enough real work to keep busy maybe you should take up crochet.”

  At noon Zak took his shovel out of his truck and headed for Cora’s house. The tidy bungalow was just a few blocks away, across from the cemetery. When he saw the snow piled along the walkway to her front door, he smiled.

  It only took ten minutes to clear the snow, at which point the old biddy opened her door and reluctantly thanked him.

  “No problem, Miss Christensen.” He moved closer, looking up the three steps that separated them. As he did this, she angled the door until it was almost closed, but not before he saw the pile of newspapers on the floor, almost three feet high.

  Nadine, who’d been inside a few weeks ago, claimed Cora was a hoarder.

  He was not surprised. Someone as twisted as Cora had to have mental problems.

  “Say, I heard from Luke Stillman that you’ve inherited Lacy’s old house. I guess when you move out there you’ll have a lot more snow to shovel.”

  She frowned and pulled the edges of her sweater tight across her chest. “As if I’m going to move to the ranch. The idea is preposterous.”

  “Isn’t that why Jack left it to you?”

  “Why Jack did what he did, is none of your business.”

  Any sane person would have slammed the door in his face by now. But Cora Christensen was lonely. She raised her chin proudly. “I used to be an important person in this community. I’ve taught most of the people who live here. Jack recognized my contribution.”

  “It was a long time ago, but it must have been a shock to you when he died.”

  “That fall was no accident. I tried to tell the sheriff...”

  Adrenaline zinged through Zak’s veins. There’d been no mention of Cora in Ford’s report. “What did you want him to know?”

  “Lacy did it of course. She pushed Jack off that ridge.”

  “Did she see Lacy push Jack?” Tiff asked later that day at the Dew Drop.

  Zak shook his head no. He drank some beer, then glanced toward the entrance. Luke was supposed to meet them here.

  The impromptu gathering had been organized by Tiff who called him an hour ago.

  “I need a sanity break. Plus, we’ve had turkey four days in a row. I could use a good burger. You free tonight?”

  “Sure. How about I call Luke and invite him too?”

  “Perfect. That way we can keep the town gossips guessing about the status of our relationship.”

  “Just try to keep your hands off me this time.”

  “Oh, Zak, but I want you so bad.” Then she laughed, totally spoiling the effect.

  The Dew Drop Inn was owned by Keith Dewy, who’d taken it over from his parents when they retired and moved to Arizona. In a town of Montana log buildings and western-themed storefronts, the three-story, Bavarian-styled building was an original.

  In the summer dark red-and-white geraniums spilled out of the boxes under the mullioned windows. In the winter Keith’s wife Molly replaced the flowers with sprigs of cedar, pine and spruce. The bit of extra effort added a lot to the appeal of the building.

  Molly ran the inn—four bedrooms on the second story—while Keith was in charge of the pub on the street level. Their four daughters had all worked at various times for the family business but currently only the youngest, twenty-five-year-old Mari, remained in Lost Trail, and most nights she could be found waiting tables in the bar.

  Mari was efficient, quiet and inconspicuous. She dressed sensibly in flat shoes and dark jeans with a white shirt...and flirting for extra tips was not her style. Though he considered himself a regular at the Dew Drop, Zak had never managed to engage Mari in anything but the shortest of conversations. If he so much as asked how she was, she’d be sure to answer as she did today.

  “I’m fine. What can I get you?”

  “Burger for me,” Tiff said.

  He hesitated. He’d love a burger too but they never remembered to remove the onions. “Fish and chips, hold the tartar sauce.”

  Tiff leaned in close and spoke quietly, continuing the conversation they’d begun before Mari’s interruption. “So how does Cora know Lacy killed her husband if she didn’t witness it?”

  “She said Jack told her his wife was a hothead. He said she could fly off the handle at a moment’s notice.”

  “I guess millions of non-homicidal people could claim the same.”

  “She also said Jack wasn’t dead a month before Lacy was redecorating their house and prancing around town in new clothes and fancy western jewelry.”

  “Prancing?”

  “Cora’s word, not mine.”

  “So let me get this straight. We now know why Lacy hated Cora. It’s because Cora was having an affair with Jack.”

  He nodded.

  “Did Lacy know about the affair before he died or only after she’d learned the terms of his will?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “What about Dewbury Academy? Why did it shut down after Jack’s death?”

  “I called my mom this afternoon and asked her that. She said Lacy campaigned hard to close it. Once she convinced the majority of parents to bus their kids to Sula, Cora had no choice but to retire.”

  “Any idea how long Jack and Cora’s affair went on?”

  “Nope.”

  “And finally,” Tiff said, “is any of this related to Lacy’s death?”

  “No friggin’ idea. All I can say for sure is the list of people who gained from her death is pretty darned long.”

  “Obviously her family.”

  “That’s right. Sons Eugene and Clayton, their wives Em and Vanessa, and their children Tom, Luke and Nikki. We can add Cora to the list since she inherited a life tenancy in the Lazy S homestead property.”

  Tiff snapped her fingers. “I almost forgot, I heard something at our Thanksgiving dinner I wanted to tell you about. You know Gwen Lange?”

  “The receptionist at the medi-clinic?”

  “That’s right. She’s dating one of the seasonal workers at our farm, Rusty Thurston. Anyway, I noticed she and my aunt were having words at one point. Later Kenny told me they were talking about Lacy Stillman. My aunt accused Gwen of eavesdropping on their conversation. I assume this must have been at the clinic. Didn’t you say Lacy had a checkup the day before she died?”

  “She did. Did you ask your aunt for more details?”

  “Yes, but she denied being upset with Gwen. I think she was trying to protect her.”

  Zak was going to ask another question when he noticed a tall woman with long blonde hair step into the bar.

  He didn’t often see Nadine Black out of uniform. Every nerve in his body appreciated the view. He was going to wave at her to join them and then he noticed she wasn’t alone.

  A cowboy trailed behind her. With his hat on he was taller than Nadine by at least six inches, a dark-haired man with a scruff of a beard on a narrow face, and a scar at the corner of his right eye.

  Dustin Hart.

  Zak recognized the bronc rider
from videos he’d watched on the Internet. Back when Nadine first started with the sheriff’s department, Zak had done a little research. He’d found out Nadine was born and raised in Helena and started barrel riding when she was thirteen. She’d turned professional when she was eighteen and her career had been steadily progressing until the death of her horse, Mane Event, last spring.

  He’d watched videos of Nadine’s barrel-racing events. She’d been amazing at guiding her horse around the three barrels in the regulation pattern. He also found her public page on Facebook and noticed a cowboy named “Dustin Hart” was liking all her posts. He figured they must have been a couple, and so he’d checked out Dustin’s stats and discovered the twenty-eight-year-old already had an impressive list of buckles and trophies to his name.

  Nadine had closed down her official Facebook page once she started the new job in Lost Trail. And she’d never mentioned Dustin, so Zak had assumed she’d left him as well as her rodeo career behind.

  Yet here he was.

  Zak caught Nadine’s eye when she was about ten feet away. He nodded, and she did the same. Then Dustin put a hand on her arm and gestured her to a table on the other side of the room. Nadine hesitated a second before following him.

  Zak’s gut twisted. At least now he knew why she’d blown him off the other day.

  He took a long drink of beer, finishing off the glass. As he was refilling it from the pitcher, Luke arrived, along with his younger cousin Nikki.

  “Hey, Tiff, the night is looking up. I didn’t know you’d be here.” Luke slid into the seat next to Zak. “You know my cousin Nikki, right?”

  “Of course. Hi, Nikki.” Tiff shifted her chair over to make more room at the table.

  Dressed in jeans and a shearling coat, Nikki looked much more comfortable than she had on the day of her grandmother’s funeral. She took off her cowboy hat and settled it on an empty chair. “Hope you don’t mind us butting in.”

  “Nothing to butt into,” Zak said awkwardly.

  “Is that right?” Nikki cocked her head. “I heard the two of you were hot and heavy at my grandma’s house on Wednesday.”

  Zak drummed his fingers on the table and tried to laugh naturally. He didn’t want to have to explain why he’d been in Lacy’s bedroom. But he didn’t want to feed the rumors, either. “Yeah, well, we thought we’d give Gertie Humphrey something to talk about. But Tiff and I are just friends.”

  “Sometimes barely that,” Tiff added, making everyone laugh.

  Mari showed up with the food. She set the plates down quickly then turned to Luke. “I’ll bring some extra glasses. Would you like another pitcher of draft? Maybe some food to go with it?”

  Luke checked with his cousin, who nodded. “Sure, we’ll have another pitcher for the table and burgers for me and Nik.”

  “Got it.” Mari put a hand on the back of Luke’s chair and stuck out one hip bone. “By the way, I’m sorry about your grandmother, Luke. I wanted to go to the funeral but I had to work.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate that. We’re going to miss her, that’s for sure.”

  “She was a character. I always enjoyed serving her.”

  “Bet she didn’t leave you much in the way of a tip.”

  Zak had never seen Mari smile before. Turned out she had a cute set of dimples.

  “That’s okay. A lot of our older customers are careful with their money.”

  Luke nodded and after a semi-awkward pause Mari added, “Okay, I’ll get your beers and put this order in with the kitchen.”

  Zak waited until she was out of earshot. “I’ve never heard her talk so much before. Guess she must really like you.”

  Luke batted his hand. “She’s a good kid. But young, right?”

  “She’s the same age as me,” Nikki said. “Five years isn’t that much of a difference.” She glanced from her cousin to Zak. Neither of the guys replied. Zak focused on scraping the tartar sauce away from his fish and fries.

  “So how are you guys doing?” Tiff changed the subject. “It must be hard losing your grandmother.”

  “Harder than you can imagine,” Nikki said. “The entire family’s gone crazy since Grandma died.”

  As if on cue, Nikki’s phone chimed, and she lowered her eyes to check her screen. As she read, her mouth pinched in an expression of annoyance. “My mother. I thought I’d get a break from her while she was at her stupid spa retreat.”

  “Let me guess.” Luke smiled at Mari as she set down the extra glasses and pitcher. “She’s pressuring you to agree to sell that land.”

  “Big time. I’ve had about ten text messages today. I wish she would chill. She’s going to come home from her spa trip even more wound up than when she left.”

  “My dad is putting the same pressure on me and my mother. And Tom’s in a funk because he can’t have Grandma’s house. He wants to move in with his girlfriend and he feels like the perfect house has been snatched out from under him.”

  “It’s so bizarre,” Nikki said. “Why would Miss Christensen want to live out on our ranch anyway? It’s so isolated, and the roads can be dangerous in the winter. And it’s not as if our family is going to be friendly to her. If Grandpa did have an affair with her and wanted to leave her something, why not money?”

  “It’s almost like Grandpa did the one thing he knew would piss off Grandma the most,” Luke said.

  Zak had been thinking the same thing.

  Chapter Eight

  When Luke and Nikki’s burgers arrived, Zak eyed his haddock and coleslaw with regret, trying to ignore his craving for some juicy, triple A, Montana beef. Around him his friends were digging in and the aroma was killing him.

  Luke noticed his envious stare. “Why did you order fish, you fool?”

  “They never remember to leave off the onions here.”

  “That’s because they’re awesome.” Luke pulled a caramelized strand out from his burger and sucked it up. “What do you have against them?”

  “Memories of liver and onion dinners at home.” And his father making him sit at the table, sometimes for hours, until he’d finished every bite.

  “Will you be going to South Dakota for Christmas?” Tiff asked.

  “Not if I can come up with a good excuse. Hopefully we’ll have a blizzard that’ll shut down the highways.”

  “It’s going to be a weird Christmas for us with Grandma gone,” Nikki said.

  “And everyone at each other’s throats,” Luke added. “But I suppose we’ll go through the motions like every other year. Tiff, that reminds me. Mom wants me to pick up the tree this year. Can you set aside a fourteen-foot noble fir?”

  “Sure. That’s a great choice.”

  “Could you set one aside for us too?” Nikki asked. “Sixteen foot high if possible. Mom wants it up and ready to decorate when she gets home from her spa trip.”

  At the word “spa,” Nikki rolled her eyes. Then she turned to Zak. “Will you put up a tree?”

  “Nah.” His memories of the white-and-silver artificial tree from his childhood were not pleasant.

  “You should,” Nikki insisted. “I can help you decorate it. Mom changes the theme of our tree every few years so we have boxes and boxes of unused ornaments in our basement.”

  The idea made him uneasy for several reasons. Mostly he did not want to give Nikki the wrong idea. “My cat would only shred it. He doesn’t like new things.”

  “Come on, Zak, Nikki’s totally right. You should get a tree this year. A real tree.” Tiff’s eyes had a mischievous gleam. She loved pressing his buttons.

  “I’ll think about it,” he said.

  But he wouldn’t.

  An hour and two pitchers of beer later, Tiff watched Nikki pull out her car keys.

  “You sure you’re okay to drive?” Tiff asked.

  “I only had one glass.” Nikki turned to Zak. “Let me know if you change your mind about that tree.”

  Tiff watched the Stillmans leave the bar, wondering how they were going to reso
lve the issues that divided their family. When she turned to Zak to ask him what he thought, she noticed him eyeing Nadine Black and her cowboy friend, who were talking intently at their table in the back corner.

  She’d noticed them earlier, but hadn’t wanted to interrupt the conversation. “So who’s the cowboy with your deputy?”

  Blotches of red darkened Zak’s cheeks. “She’s not my deputy. The cowboy is Dustin Hart. He’s a bronc rider in the PRCA.”

  “What’s the story?”

  “I’m not sure. I think they used to date before she moved to Lost Trail.”

  “And now he’s back in the picture? Well that sucks.”

  “If I said I don’t really care...?”

  “I wouldn’t believe you.” She gave his hand a sympathetic squeeze, then topped up his beer glass. “Any interest in Nikki Stillman? I have a hunch you’d have more luck with her.”

  “You think?” The offer to help him put up a Christmas tree hadn’t been subtle. But he couldn’t see her that way.

  “Bring her around to the farm on the weekend. The two of you can take a hay ride through the forest. I hear it’s very romantic.”

  “Stop it. Can we talk about something else?”

  She looked him in the eye for a few moments, then gave a slight lift of her shoulders. “Such as?”

  “You know that list of questions we were working on before Luke and Nikki showed up?”

  “Yes...”

  “One person who might have some answers is Sybil.”

  “Good point. At the potluck after Lacy’s celebration of life Sybil mentioned the fact that Lacy hated Cora. It sounded like she knew some of the history between them.”

  “Yeah. I’d like to ask her about that.”

  Sybil had answered some questions for them about Riley Concurran last month. The librarian had lived in Lost Trail all her life. People revealed surprising aspects about themselves at the library and Sybil was not only observant, she also had a keen mind and a good memory.

  “You should talk to her tomorrow,” Tiff said.

  “Yes.” He pushed aside his plate of half-eaten fish and coleslaw.