Deadly Heritage: a horse mystery: a horse mystery

by Toni Leland

  Tucking the photo into her back pocket, Kellie moved down the hall. Stopping at the bathroom door again, she eyed the shower curtain covering the tub. Heart thumping, she stepped into the room, terrified at what she might find. A deep breath, and she yanked aside the curtain. Only three mummified mice in the bottom of the tub.

  She strode down the hall and out the kitchen door. Big gulps of air worked to cleanse her lungs and thoughts at the same time. In every direction, blackened fields shimmered in the heat, wisps of smoke spiraling up to join the blanket of haze that veiled the sun.

  The pungent air burned her throat, but defeat burned her eyes. Her fervor to protect all the things she cherished had been for nothing. Touching her pocket for reassurance that the phone was still there, she crossed the yard and walked toward the barn. One last visit with the past, then she'd go home to Sara. And Ed? Her heart thumped gently at the thought.

  The old barn smelled of warm wood and smoke from the fire. Light filtered through the sagging boards where the structure had given up the struggle to remain upright. Randy's old John Deere sat in the corner, encrusted with dust and cobwebs. His roping lariat hung on one wall next to a bridle and hackamore. In the eerie light, she reluctantly searched the dirt floor for the bloodstain, but the years had mercifully obliterated it. Her eyes burned with the pain of the past and the echoes of their happy childhood laughter.

  A loud creak made her jump and she looked up toward the hayloft. A perfect place for someone to hide-or to hide a body.

  The loft ladder rose straight up the wall into the dark. She hesitated, then slowly began climbing. At the top, she poked her head over the edge of the opening and squinted, waiting for her eyes to adjust. Several bales of hay were scattered about. A dark mound formed a silhouette against a small window. Hunching over to keep from bumping her head, she crept toward the lump. A tarp covered whatever it was. Her heart hammered so hard she could barely breathe. Do I really want to do this? She fingered the edge of the canvas, hesitated, then pulled it aside. A mouse squeaked and scurried over her foot. She leaped back in fright, banging her head on a rafter.

  Dropping to her knees, she stared at Randy's old roping saddle, the sight bringing a flood of memories into her throbbing head. She reached out and ran her fingers over the smooth leather, worn dark by hours of hard work.

  “Randy,” she whispered. “Why did you abandon me?”

  Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that her strong, resilient brother could sink to suicide. Something stirred in the darkest recesses of her brain. She tried to bring it up, grasp the thought, but it faded, leaving an unsettled feeling in its wake. A vibration hummed against her breast, startling her. She pulled the phone from her pocket and peered at a series of letters and numbers on the screen.

  “Hello?”

  Silence pressed against her ear, a chill crawling across her shoulders. “Ed? Is that you?”

  A heavy voice rumbled back at her. “Who is this? Where did you get this phone?”

  She stared at the display again, then pressed the disconnect button and frowned. More puzzle pieces.

  She glanced at the saddle again, then her gaze drifted out the small window for another glimpse of the burnt grass. The smoke had thinned, cleansed by a brisk breeze that kept the windmill blades spinning. The peaceful scene calmed her turmoil, and she thought about Frank's secret activities in the underground shelter. In the old days, when the ranch employed dozens of wranglers, the pole barn would have been their only refuge during tornado season. She tried to remember if she'd ever known about the shelter, but nothing definite came to mind. Recalling her first experience with a twister, her pulse twitched. How she'd hated being in the small dark room under the big house. Sometimes she'd had nightmares about being trapped there, with no one to hear her calls for help.

  She suddenly caught her breath and stared at the windmill, remembering the strange noises she'd heard. “Oh God!” Her gaze snapped to the pile of boulders east of the structure. “She's in there! I know it!”

  Scrambling down the ladder, she jumped from the third rung, and raced out into the bright light. The long grass slowed her down a little, snatching at her jeans and tangling around her boots, but she kept jogging toward the boulders. She stopped at the corrugated metal door and leaned her hands on her knees, gulping for air. Another sound penetrated her ragged breathing, a buzz from somewhere close. She listened, waiting for the sound to repeat. The hollow warning came again, searing into her brain, and she instinctively looked first at her feet, then scanned the immediate area. Four feet away, a thick Timber rattlesnake lay coiled on one of the boulders, head raised. My God, I ran right past it! Taking a shallow breath, she held her body rigid and took one slow step back. The snake's tail shook again, his head came up a little more, and she froze. From the girth of the snake's body, she guessed he was over five feet long-plenty of length to connect if he struck. She slowly took another step backward, keeping him in sight. He didn't respond, and she backed up two more steps. The snake's head lowered back to the warm stone, and she took four more steps back, then turned and put another two yards between them.

  Turning in a circle, she searched the ground for anything she might use to protect herself.

  “How am I going to do this?”

  A bare spot in the grass caught her attention and she investigated, finding a small pile of rocks. Selecting the largest ones that easily fit in her hand, she stepped back to a safe distance and took aim. The first rock sailed completely over the boulder, and she grinned.

  “Baseball pitcher, I'm not!”

  The second rock hit the boulder just inches from the snake, and he immediately slithered off the far side and into the grass. She cautiously approached the shelter doors again, listening for any sign of her new adversary or his relatives. The air was still.

  Pulling the metal door open, she peered into the dim stairwell, littered with leaves and dirt. Fear crawled through her insides, and she scanned the corners for any sign of more snakes. Then, an icy lump moved into her stomach. The old wooden door to the shelter sported a shiny new padlock.

  She sprinted down the steps, and pounded on the thick door. “Tina? Are you in there?”

  Nothing stirred but the creak of the windmill above her. She hammered her fists against the oak planks.

  “Tina! Answer me!”

  Horror engulfed her thoughts-Jethrow had killed the girl, knowing her body would never be found in this deserted place.

  A muffled wail came through the door. “Help me!”

  “Tina! It's me, Kellie. I'm calling for help right now.”

  Her pulse thumped in her ears and her hands shook while she tried to dial the tiny phone. Ed answered on the first ring.

  “Send someone out to the windmill right away. I found Tina!”

  She pocketed the phone and turned back to the door, leaning close to be heard. “They're on the way. Everything is going to be all right.”

  She leaned her forehead against the musty old wood, listening to Tina's sobs from inside the shelter. Would anything ever be all right again?

  The impact of Jethrow's actions stunned her. What had been his plan? Destroy the ranch? Kill them all? Just to recover what was already his? Prickles ran over her skin, remembering their conversations and his frightening personality swings. Would he really have left Tina to die slowly in this place?

  She closed her eyes, shutting out the questions. No one would ever know.

  Above ground, car doors slammed and men's voices rumbled. She started up the steps on shaky legs. A familiar silhouette appeared against the gray sky, and she reached for Ed's hand, grasping it as though her life depended on that contact. Two deputies charged down the stairwell and, in moments, the screech of metal against metal echoed in the hole.

  Ed slipped his arm around her shoulders. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded numbly, her gaze riveted on the shelter entrance. She couldn't stop wondering how Jethrow could kill another human being w
ith no remorse. Her nephew had clearly grown into a deadly stranger.

  A loud crunch reverberated from the stairwell, then the sounds of splintering wood. Hysterical sobs preceded Tina's puffy tear-stained face. Supported by the deputies, she emerged from the cave, clutching a small black book against her chest.

  Her face contorted into a snarling mask. “I hope you lock that bastard up forever!” she screamed. “He's a monster! He killed his own father!”

  Ed threw a quick look at Kellie, then stepped up to the girl. “That's a pretty strong accusation, young lady.”

  She stepped back, flinging the black notebook to the ground.

  “See for yerself! He kept a fuckin' diary, ferchrissake!”

  ~ ~

  Kellie sat in the patrol car, fighting the nausea, struggling to quiet her trembling body. Several county cars rolled up and, in minutes, the field was filled with people. Watching Ed guide Tina into a patrol car, Kellie let her mind wrap around the horrible revelations. How had they missed Jethrow's possible involvement in Randy's death? Young sullen Jethrow had been questioned, but if she remembered right, his grief had been so heart wrenching that they'd discarded any idea he might be involved. Now it looked as though the Jekyll-Hyde personality had been honed at an early age.

  Ed strode toward the car. She had to see what was written in that notebook. He slid into the driver's seat, and slipped the diary into a plastic bag.

  She composed her tone. “May I look at that before you take it in?”

  His expression softened and he gazed at her for a full minute before he shook his head. “I'm sorry, hon.” He slipped the package into the glove compartment and locked it, then slouched back in the seat and groaned. “What a can of worms.”

  She gazed out the window, focusing on the investigators milling around the shelter entrance like hornets. It was probably just as well she didn't see the diary. It would be hard enough to sort through what she already knew. Voices brought her back to the present as Ed climbed out of the car and followed a deputy across the grass. She waited a minute, then followed, keeping her distance. A sturdy woman in field gear kneeled on the ground beside the shelter opening. Several boxes and containers were arranged over the grass, and Kellie squinted to see what they were. While everyone examined the display, she crept up close enough to see and hear.

  Ed whistled. “Holy shit!”

  The woman looked up. “This is about half of what's down there.”

  Kellie slipped up behind the group. She still couldn't see, and from everyone's reaction, she wasn't sure she wanted to.

  A hand grasped her arm. “Ma'am, you're not supposed to be here.”

  Ed whirled around, his eyes widening. “Aw, Kellie-what are you doing?”

  She wrenched her arm out of the deputy's hold and stepped up beside Ed. At first, her brain didn't grasp what she was seeing, then comprehension slammed through her. She was looking at mummified cat and dogs-headless or without paws. Two shriveled white mice were nailed spread-eagled to a board. A mockingbird stared with glazed eyes, its beak taped shut with electrician's tape.

  Ed stepped in front of her, his voice returning to its usual authoritative tone. “Deputy Stark will take you back to the ranch. I'll be there in a little while.”

  Her strong will crumbled and she followed the officer to a patrol car, suddenly terrified to be alone with her thoughts.

  Chapter 23

  “Mama!” Sara raced out of the house and launched herself into Kellie's arms. “Where've you been? I was scared!”

  Cradling the small warm body, Kellie closed her eyes and struggled with her emotions. “I know, I know-so was I.”

  She hugged tighter, afraid to let go, consumed with the knowledge they'd been within arm's length of a madman. The front door opened and her brothers came out onto the porch.

  Clarke's thin face was shadowy with stress. “God, Kell, we've been worried. What happened out there?”

  “A purge.”

  Cliff stepped off the porch and put his arms around her. “I'm sure sorry about all this...anything we can do to help?”

  She stepped back and smiled sadly. “You already have, just by being here.”

  She gazed at the brother she'd been so angry with earlier. Why had she believed her own desires and plans were more important than his or Clarke's? Or Ed's. Shame crept into her heart. Blinded by selfishness and resistance to change, she'd alienated the very people who counted. Had her oblivion made her as responsible for Randy's death as Jethrow?

  She linked her arm through Cliff's. “Let's go inside.”

  Clarke pulled three beers from the fridge, and Kellie led the men down the hall toward the study. Though physically exhausted, her brain was afire with a dozen thoughts. Her brothers sank into the leather sofa and she settled behind the desk. Trying to calm the rush of thoughts, she contemplated the soft sheen of the knotty pine walls, letting the snug welcoming room surround her like a cocoon. The long history of the land, the ranch, and the breeding program filled the shelves of a floor to ceiling bookcase. With her at the helm, Rocking S Ranch had become one of the most successful Quarter Horse operations in the state. A deep stir of sadness moved through her heart. Dad would have been so proud of me-but thank God he never had to witness this day.

  Cliff pointed at a yellowed plat map on the wall. “Hard to believe we only have a fraction of the original estate.”

  She gazed at the faded marks on the map. “Interesting how every generation tries to maintain control. Deathbed promises, clauses in wills-all attempts to dictate the future. But in the end, everything changes anyway.”

  The room became silent and she glanced at her brothers. Cliff's expression was guarded, but not unsympathetic. Clarke gazed at her through deep-set eyes, the dark circles beneath them stark against his sun-starved skin. She hadn't been a part of these men's lives for such a long time-would they let her step back in now? Family ties were fragile, at best, in need of understanding and nurture-something she'd neglected in the past. She'd paid for that today, but it would never happen again.

  “I have some bad news-Jethrow died in the fire.”

  Cliff whistled. “Jeezus, you mean the house burned down?”

  She shook her head, almost unable to tell them the rest. “He was out in the field...he set the fire.” Cliff's face darkened into a scowl, but she held up her hand. “That's not the worst of it. He's probably the one who attacked the horses.”

  “Why the hell would he do something like that?”

  “I talked to him earlier-he believed we were all responsible for Randy's death because we didn't help him, didn't recognize he was in deep trouble.”

  Cliff snorted. “That's bullshit! You bent over backwards for that loser. He did it to himself, then took the coward's way out!”

  Kellie broke down, grief wracking her body. Clarke came over and put his arms around her.

  “C'mon, Kell, it's over now. You're gonna be all right.”

  She struggled out of his grasp, choking on the words. “No! You don't understand! Jethrow shot Randy and made it look like suicide! Killed his own father for God knows what reason.” She sank back into the chair. “Jethrow kept a diary of every evil thing he did out there. I wish the place had burned down.”

  Clarke stepped back, and Kellie took a deep breath. “There's more. Frank's been arrested for drug dealing. I don't know any details yet, but he's in a lot of trouble.”

  Cliff set his empty beer bottle on the floor and stood up. “This is definitely a two beer conversation.”

  Sara's voice echoed in the hall, then she appeared in the doorway. “The sheriff is on the phone.”

  Kellie gazed at her brothers. “I promise we'll talk about your land in the morning.”

  Ed's low voice crooned through her frazzled mind. “Listen, I'm sorry, but I can't get out there again until morning. It's a hornet's nest here and I can't leave.”

  She gripped the phone close to her ear, savoring his calm tone, but disappointment threaded
through her heart.

  “I understand. I'm exhausted anyway, and I still have to get the barns reorganized.”

  “I'm sending a deputy out to pick up my cell phone. He should be there any minute.”

  “Okay. It rang while I was out by the windmill. I answered, and some man didn't sound happy to hear my voice.”

  A tight silence rippled through the connection. “And?...”

  “I just hung up. Who was it?”

  “I'll tell you when I see you in the morning.”

  For a long time after saying goodbye, she stared at nothing, her mind racing with a kaleidoscope of images and impressions. She had to get some things prioritized, and first on the list were the horses.

  She strode into the growing dusk, focusing on the main barn and avoiding looking at the destroyed mare barn. In the pasture across the driveway, a band of yearlings and two-year-olds nibbled their way along the fence as though nothing had happened. The broodmares had been put into the pond pasture, and the remaining horses were in the parched field behind the main barn. Roy hadn't missed a beat getting things back to some semblance of normal.

  But the seven or eight official vehicles scattered over the property were not part of that normalcy. Most of them were Logan County, but a black sedan and grey van had no markings. A table had been set up at the side of the barn, and a crime scene investigator pored over items collected from the area. Kellie shook her head. With so many crimes in the same location, they'd be there all night.

  Sara appeared in the barn door. “We got all the horses taken care of.” She grinned. “And I gave Juicy a big red apple for being so brave!”

  Kellie gently tugged a pigtail. “You're the one who deserves a prize for bravery.”

  Sara looked pleased at the praise, then shook her head. “Poor Daddy.”

  Kellie's stomach churned. “What do you mean?”

  “He missed all the excitement! But that's what he gets for spending all his time at the racetrack.” She turned and grinned. “He said he'd take me there some time. Can I go?”

  Oh, baby, I can't bear what's coming. Kellie nodded and turned toward the house. “If he ever makes good on that promise, you may go.”