Rough Diamonds: Wyoming ToughDiamond in the Rough

by Diana Palmer

  “Yes, we know. The fence has been arrested and the egg was confiscated from its new owner. He’s pretty upset. He paid a quarter of a million for it. Luckily, the fence hadn’t had time to distribute more than a third of the money.”

  Mallory was relieved. “That piece of art was our grandmother’s,” he explained. “It really is priceless, but it has a sentimental value, as well. Who stole it?”

  Harding hesitated. Mavie came in with steaming cups of black coffee in mugs on a silver tray. There was pound cake, too. She put it down, grinning at the newcomer. She didn’t smile much. Mal-lory was amused at her friendliness to the visitor. “Hope you like cake,” she said. “It was made fresh yesterday.”

  “I love it. Thank you.”

  “Cream? Sugar?” she offered.

  Harding shook his head and chuckled, showing perfect white teeth. “I got used to drinking it black years ago. It’s hard to find condiments in some of the places I’ve worked.”

  “Thank you, Mavie,” Mallory said pointedly.

  She glanced at him, cleared her throat, excused herself and left.

  “Nice lady,” Harding commented as he sipped coffee. He closed his eyes. “Colombian,” he decided. “My favorite.”

  Mallory’s eyes widened. “You can tell the origin of the blend?”

  “It’s a hobby.” His eyes twinkled with secret amusement.

  Mallory didn’t comment. “Now. Who took the egg?”

  Harding had another sip of coffee and put the cup down. “A threesome, I’m afraid.”

  “What threesome?” Mallory’s mind was working overtime as he searched for suspects.

  “A local woman, Gelly Bruner, took the egg. She had a key to your cabinet, which was made for her by an escaped convict, Joe Bascomb, who needed money to avoid being captured. There was a third man involved, peripherally, a man named Bates. It seems he helped Ms. Bruner by planting evidence.”

  Mallory’s face was thunderous. “Bates works for me! He said he saw Morie Brannt holding the egg in the bunkhouse.”

  “I believe he also helped plant evidence on another cowboy who worked here, a man named Harry Rogers, who’s retained counsel and plans to sue for false arrest.”

  “Great,” Mallory said. “I guess we’ll keep our lawyers busy.”

  “Rogers does have a case, but it’s the sheriff who arrested him that he’s suing, and also Ms. Bruner. He isn’t suing you. He said you were set up, just as he was.”

  Mallory was touched. “In that case he can have his job back with a raise, if he wants it, and I’ll pay for his attorney.”

  “You’d have to talk to him about that. Your cowboy Bob Bates has been arrested, however, and charged with aiding and abetting theft.”

  “I’m just astonished,” Mallory said heavily. “I did suspect Gelly, but I had no idea Bates was that involved.”

  “He had feelings for her and he’s very young,” Harding replied. “He’s sick at heart about what he did. She told him it was a prank. He didn’t find out different until Ms. Brannt was fired, and then he was afraid to come forward.”

  “It doesn’t excuse theft,” Mallory said. “Not at all.”

  “He’s a first offender,” Harding said. “I’m almost certain that he’ll get probation. Ms. Bruner is, however, in a different situation. She has a record.”

  “For what?” Mallory asked, stunned.

  “Theft. This isn’t her first walk around the justice system. She’s never been convicted, but she’s been charged twice in the theft of priceless antiques from private homes. I’m afraid she’s not going to have an easy time. Her signature was on the receipt for proceeds from the sale of the stolen egg, and Bates is turning state’s evidence against her in return for first-offender status. He can put her in the house with a duplicate key at the time of the theft. It seems that Bascomb also made her a copy of your house key.”

  “Oh, good God,” Mallory exclaimed.

  “So it might be a good idea for you to check your other valuables and see if any are missing or have been replaced with copies,” the detective suggested.

  “I’ll do that today,” Mallory agreed. “That’s a lot of good detective work for such a short time.”

  Harding shrugged. “I love my job. I used to be a cop, but I got tired of the hours, so I quit Houston P.D. and went to work for Dane Lassiter.” He grinned. “He’s some boss, let me tell you.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “There’s a rumor going around that Joe Bas-comb didn’t get his cut of the money and he’s out for revenge,” Harding added. “If I were you, I’d put on extra patrols out here and watch where I went. He’s really desperate now. They’ve brought in other law-enforcement personnel to go into the woods after him, including some trackers and some K-9 units.”

  “I’ll make sure we’re all armed,” Mallory told him. “And thanks.”

  Harding smiled. “My pleasure.”

  MALLORY TOLD HIS BROTHERS what Harding had related, and they went around the house looking for other missing objects. To their shock, they found at least two priceless ceramic vases missing and one irreplaceable solid gold miniature goblet, not to mention an entire silver service that was kept apart from the others in a special cabinet. It was almost never unlocked and the brothers paid it little attention, because it was in an out-of-the-way place in the house.

  Mallory called the sheriff’s department and an officer took down the descriptions of the missing items and their value. He promised to have their investigator get in touch with the appropriate authorities in Denver and search for them. Mal-lory didn’t expect them to be found. But there was always a chance, even if it was a small one.

  Gelly had called him collect from the detention center, crying and begging for help. “I’m innocent,” she wailed. “I’m being set up! It’s a lie!”

  “Gelly, you had duplicate keys that Bascomb made for you,” he added. “The prosecutor has an eyewitness who saw you sell the jeweled egg to a dealer in Las Vegas. What do you expect me to do?”

  “You have to help me!” she exclaimed. “I’ll tell them I’m pregnant! I’ll call the newspapers!”

  “Go ahead,” he said easily.

  “I mean it!”

  “So do I,” he replied. “You’d have to prove it. We both know it’s impossible.”

  “Well, I know that. But I can lie,” she shot back. “I know how to lie and make people believe me!”

  “You sure do,” he agreed coldly. “You got Morie fired with your lies. Not to mention Harry Rogers, who worked for us and was fired for stealing a drill that he didn’t even take.”

  “That silly girl,” Gelly muttered. “I made up all sorts of stories about her, and you believed every one of them!”

  “Yes. I did,” he replied grimly.

  “Maybe I can’t have you, but you’ll never have her, now!” she exclaimed. “I can’t imagine that she’d really want you. You’re as ugly as an old boot!”

  His pride ached at the charge. “Maybe,” he replied coldly. “But I’m rich.”

  “Humph!”

  “Goodbye, Gelly.”

  He hung up and removed the cartridge that had the conversation on it. Even though he hadn’t informed her that she was being recorded, this would serve as evidence that he wasn’t responsible for any pregnancy she might claim in the future. He dropped it in the drawer of the telephone table, replaced it with a new one and then blocked the number she’d called from—the detention center—so that she couldn’t reach him again. Her words stung. He knew he had nothing in the looks department. He turned and went out to work. But his mind wasn’t at all on what he was doing. Which was a shame.

  MORIE WAS WALKING AROUND the barn with her father and brother. She hadn’t said two words all morning.

  Cort was tall like their father, with jet-black hair and eyes. He was drop-dead gorgeous, Morie thought, even if he was her brother. Now he glanced at her with narrowed eyes. “Don’t be thinking about that damned Wyoming coyote,” he s
aid hotly. “He’s not worth a single thought.”

  “Amen,” King Brannt muttered.

  “Neither of you know a thing about him,” Morie replied without looking up. “He has good qualities. He was taken in by Gelly Bruner.”

  “His brothers weren’t,” King replied.

  “Love blinds men,” Morie said with more pain than she realized. “Mallory is in love with Gelly.”

  Both men looked down at her.

  King, undemonstrative to a fault, nevertheless put his arm around his daughter and hugged her close. “Daryl will make you a good husband,” he told her firmly.

  She smiled. “I know.”

  “If she doesn’t love him, he won’t,” Cort cut in bluntly.

  King glared at his son. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

  “I am on your side. But she’s my sister and I love her,” the younger man added. “It’s not a good idea to jump into a new relationship when you haven’t resolved the old one.”

  “I never had a relationship with that awful cattleman,” Morie muttered.

  King let her go and searched her face. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure,” she said firmly.

  King raised an eyebrow. “He was looking at you the way I look at a juicy steak when your mother’s been feeding me chicken for a week.”

  Morie’s heart jumped. “He was?”

  King shrugged. “He stood up to me, too.”

  “I thought you didn’t like him.” Morie faltered.

  “I heard from the private detective,” he continued. “It seems Ms. Bruner is in jail awaiting trial on theft by taking, along with one of the Kirks’ cowboys. That escaped criminal they’re looking for is on the list, too, but they still can’t find him.”

  “It was on the news this morning,” Cort said. “They’ve sent in tracking dogs.”

  “I feel sorry for Tank,” Morie said. “Joe Bas-comb was his friend.”

  “Tank?” Cort asked, blinking.

  “He killed one overseas and his men gave him the nickname,” Morie volunteered.

  Cort sighed. “I guess it’s better than Tub.”

  Tub was what they called one of their cowboys, who was thin as a rail and the best wrangler they’d ever had. Nobody knew how he’d come by the nickname.

  “They said that Bascomb had told a family member that he had a score to settle before he was caught, and that they wouldn’t take him alive.”

  Morie felt cold chills run down her arms. It was an odd sort of apprehension, as if she knew something terrible was about to happen and that she had no way of stopping it.

  “I feel odd,” she murmured.

  “Odd, how?” her father asked.

  Before she could answer, Shelby came into the barn, looking like a fashion plate even in jeans and a T-shirt. She was frowning.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” King asked, sensitive to her moods. He caught her by her arms, gently, smiling down at her. “Can I help?”

  She shook her head and looked at Morie with sorrow. “It’s about that cattleman you worked for, Mallory Kirk.”

  Morie’s heart stopped, skipped and ran away. “What about him?”

  “That escaped criminal kidnapped him on his own ranch. He says he’s going to kill him…Morie!”

  Morie didn’t hear her. She’d fainted dead away.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  IF IT DISTURBED HER FAMILY that Morie fainted at the news that Mallory had been kidnapped, her next move horrified them. She announced plans to fly up to Wyoming.

  “What in the world do you think you can do that the law can’t?” King demanded hotly.

  “I can talk to Joe Bascomb,” she said flatly.

  “Nobody can talk to him—he’s desperate.” Her brother tried to reason with her. “He might kidnap you and kill you, too.”

  “He won’t,” she said, certain of it. “I talked to him. I shared my lunch with him. He’ll listen to me.”

  Shelby hadn’t said anything yet. She was watching, listening, worrying.

  “Mom, remember when old man Hughes got drunk?” she asked gently. “Remember who they’d call to come get him out of bars or fights? It was me. He’d always do what I asked, no matter how mad or mean he was.”

  “Yes, I remember,” Shelby said. “You have a way with people.”

  “Joe Bascomb isn’t going to listen to any man,” she said quietly. “But he might listen to a woman.”

  King was grinding his teeth. “I won’t let you risk it.”

  She went close to him. “Yes, you will, Dad,” she said gently. “Because it’s what you’d do, in my place, and you know it.” Her eyes darkened. “I love Mallory Kirk. He may be gullible, and he may be a terror of a man, but I can’t let him die and not try to save him.”

  King drew in a long breath. “I guess you can’t.”

  She pulled off her engagement ring and put it in his hand. “Please give that back to Daryl and tell him I did find somebody better, but only because it’s a man I love. He’ll understand.”

  “He will,” King agreed. “I’ll have them fuel the jet.”

  “Thanks.”

  He kissed her forehead. “Don’t get killed.” He wasn’t teasing.

  “I won’t. I promise.” She hugged him and her brother and then her mother.

  “I could go with you,” Cort volunteered.

  “They don’t need any more troublemakers than they’ve already got up there,” King mused, shaking his head at his son. “You’re too much like me. You’d just put everybody’s back up.”

  Cort shrugged, but he didn’t dispute the assessment. He tugged at Morie’s long black hair. “Be safe.”

  She nodded. “I will be. I promise.”

  SHE PHONED TANK FROM the airport. He and Cane both came to get her. But when she explained what she wanted to do, they were adamantly against it.

  “He’d listen to me if he’d listen to anybody,” Tank argued. He was gaunt, like Cane. It had been a rough couple of days since Mallory went riding fence out near the old line cabin and didn’t return. Joe Bascomb had phoned a few hours later and told them that he had Mallory and he was going to kill him for messing up his financial coup. Tank had pleaded with his friend, but Joe said he had nothing to lose and he wasn’t talking to them again. He hung up.

  “Mal may already be dead,” Tank said heavily. “We have no way of knowing.”

  “I don’t think he is,” she said, without explaining why she thought that. She knew inside herself, knew certainly, that Mallory was still alive. She knew it.

  “You don’t even know how to find Joe, if we were to agree to let you try,” Cane argued.

  “I do know,” she said. “I’ll go to the line cabin and wait for him. He’ll come. He watches it.”

  They frowned.

  “That’s where he took Mal from,” Cane recalled. “We saw signs of a struggle.”

  “Why the cabin?” Tank wondered.

  She gave them a droll look. “It’s provisioned, isn’t it? There’s even a bed. And nobody stays out there except when there’s a need. Where do you think he’s been living all this time, in a cave?”

  “You might have voiced that suspicion earlier,” Tank muttered.

  “I was having a little problem with credibility around here at the time,” she said drily.

  They looked upset.

  “I know you two believed I was innocent,” she said. “Thanks.”

  Cane studied her curiously. “Mallory said you sparkled like a jewel at your family ranch. Kingston Brannt’s daughter, riding fence lines.” He shook his head. “We could hardly believe it.”

  “Dad wouldn’t let me near the cattle,” she said, beaming inside at their description of what Mallory had said about her. “Neither would my brother. And I was being forcefully courted for my father’s money. I needed a break.”

  “Mallory’s been kicking himself ever since he got home,” Tank told her. “He thinks he’s too ugly to appeal to a woman for himself, so all the
y want is his money.”

  “He’s not ugly. Stupid, yes,” she muttered. “Idiotic. Distrustful. Bad-tempered…!”

  “We know all that,” Cane acknowledged. “But we love him.”

  She glanced at them sadly. “Yes. So do I. It’s why I came. And I won’t be discouraged from doing this. I’m right.”

  “If Joe doesn’t kill Mal,” Tank said quietly, “and it works out that he lets him go, he’ll kill us for letting you take the risk.”

  “We can deal with that when it happens. Right now, I need to change clothes, borrow a horse and ride out to the line cabin.”

  “It’s pouring down rain,” Cane said.

  “No problem. I packed a raincoat!”

  She’d also packed five thousand dollars in large bills, with which she was going to appeal to Joe to release Mallory. It was a calculated risk. He might grab her and the money, and kill her with Mallory. But she was willing to take the chance that he wouldn’t. He was a basic sort of person. He needed money and he was angry that he’d been double-crossed. But he still needed money and he might bargain for it. The sheriff was closing in. He’d need to get out quickly. He wouldn’t know that Morie had already spoken to the sheriff, who was another friend of Uncle Danny’s, and outlined her plan. He would have two government agents in the woods overlooking the line cabin, woodsmen as good or better than Joe Bascomb. She couldn’t tell the brothers that, in case they let something slip. So she kept her counsel.

  Darby was upset when she had him saddle the horse for her.

  “You can’t do this,” he protested as she loaded a small pouch, along with a bag of biscuits and a thermos of coffee that Mavie, protesting, too, had made for her to take along. “You can’t let her do it!” he raged at the two brothers standing grimly nearby.

  “Yes, they can, Darby,” Morie told him gently. “I won’t let Joe kill Mallory. No matter what I have to do to save him.”

  “It’s not right.”

  She smiled. “Yes, it is. You just send up a prayer or two for me, okay?”

  “Dozens,” he promised grimly. “I wish I’d known who you were at the start. I’d never have let you go riding fence in the first place.”

  “If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have gotten to know Joe Bascomb and I wouldn’t have a prayer of convincing him to release Mallory. Things work the way they’re supposed to. There’s a plan, and a purpose, to everything,” she said, shocking herself because she remembered saying that to Joe.