by Sylvia Nobel
“Well, the one I read about the repeat sex offender the judge was forced to release because they couldn’t hold him any longer, and who then ended up killing some little four-year-old girl, would curl your hair if it already wasn’t. The girl’s mother was in court every day during the trial and because, again, this sicko’s lawyer found that a piece of vital evidence had apparently been lost, the judge had to dismiss the charges against the guy. He walked. Says here the lowlife threw a kiss to the grieving mother on the way out of the courtroom. The poor woman lost it, lunged for the judge and finally had to be restrained…Kendall, they just go on and on. I tell ya, the criminal justice system in this country is broken. These damn defense attorneys have turned common sense on its head. Everything is upside down. Wrong is right, right is wrong, the criminals have become the victims, the victims get mired in this system and get no justice a lot of the time…I can understand if it was a member of my family caught up in this madness, I’d be wanting someone’s head too…so to speak.”
“Thanks, Walter. I know it’s pretty depressing to read all this stuff—”
“No shit,” he cut in, sounding glum. “Depressing, maddening, revolting—”
“I got you. Sorry about this.”
“No sweat. Hey, it’s part of the job. I’m okay. Just gotta take a break and get my second wind, that’s all.”
“Ginger’s brother, Brian, is also going back over old court records and scouring the Internet for related articles. I’ll be able to give you some help in a couple of days after I cover the judge’s funeral on Tuesday.”
“I heard it’s gonna be a pretty big media affair with the governor attending and a bunch of local dignitaries including a couple of congressmen and a senator.”
“Guess I’d better wear something nice.”
We said our goodbyes and after hanging up, I continued to drag my feet for another half hour before I finally bit the bullet and left for the Starfire. Time to get it over with.
I bumped along the muddy road leading to the ranch in the remaining moments of the grayish-blue dusk, unable to shake my growing apprehension. What would Ruth’s reaction be to my announcement? Would she have a tantrum? Faint? Have a stroke? Order me out of the house? And even if I wasn’t personally spearheading this story, could I, at this stage of the game, completely extricate myself?
I hated to admit it, but a disquieting thought had been loitering at the outer edges of my subconscious, and when it finally burst to the forefront, accompanying it was a rush of resentment. Grant would never have discouraged me from tackling a story packed with this much intrigue, this much excitement. No. He’d have encouraged me to go for it, and for a fleeting moment I wondered what it would be like to return to Philadelphia and experience the heady stimulation of chasing down leads with him by my side. That had been my dream. But, even entertaining such a notion generated searing guilt. How could such a consideration even enter my mind? I’d made a vow to change my impetuous ways, clean up my act, buckle down and concentrate on my relationship with Tally, and follow the wise choice to honor my promise to him.
But as the miles fell away behind me, I could not stop thinking about the captivating aspects of the case. Okay, okay. What was the harm in just thinking about it? Going on what little I had to work with, it appeared that there were at least four possible suspects. The scorned wife, La Donna Gibbons, possessed a powerful motive for dispatching her husband, and hatred had obviously been festering in Rulinda’s heart for a long time. Her brother, Randy, whose incriminating admission that he and Winston Pendahl had been in the Flagstaff area around the same time as Riley Gibbons certainly seemed suspicious. While it seemed highly unlikely that either La Donna or Marissa could have performed such a deed, it was possible that in the muscle department, either could have enlisted the aid of Winston Pendahl. But the most fascinating development of all was the arrival of the cryptic letters from Riley Gibbons. The lines of the quotations danced in my head, but still, I could find no connective significance among them. If this was an example of his propensity for pranks, it was the definitive practical joke. But, in my gut, I sensed something far more significant at the heart of his motivation.
It was fully dark when I pulled up to the ranch house and parked. The soft light spilling from the windows onto the light blanket of snow made the distinctive structure look cozy and inviting. But, when I didn’t see Tally’s truck, disappointment settled in. Sure could have used a little moral support. I reached for the door handle when the jaunty Latin tune resonated from the depths of my purse. I fished out my cell phone and glanced at the screen. Another unrecognizable number.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me.”
I hadn’t realized how tense I was until that moment. “Tally! Where are you now?”
“Winslow.”
“You didn’t get very far.”
“I’m surprised we made it at all. We’re in the middle of one hellacious snowstorm. Been in Arizona my whole life and I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I wondered why I hadn’t heard from you.”
“There was a reason. Where are you?”
“Sitting outside of your house.”
“Sorry to stand you up for dinner again. I should have called sooner but we’ve had some…difficulties.”
“What do you mean?”
“We got rear-ended by a truck, slid into a ditch and the trailer damn near turned over. It’s been a real mess.”
“Good Lord! Is everyone all right?”
“Jake and I are okay, but Gabe Horton got kicked trying to get one of the mares out of the trailer.”
“Uh-oh. Is he badly hurt?”
“Yeah. His leg’s broken.”
“Good grief. Where is he?”
“We took him to the local hospital. Then I got in touch with a friend of mine who has a spread outside Winslow. Jake and I are at the Bar 9 Ranch now and the mares are safe in his barn. But we can’t get the mares back home until we get the axle on the trailer fixed. I’m hoping we can get out to do that first thing tomorrow.”
“I assume Mr. Horton is not going to be up to traveling for a day or two.”
His audible sigh of frustration hissed in my ear. “Afraid not. As soon as this storm lets up, his brother-in-law’s planning to drive over here in his motor home to take him back home. I spoke with Ronda earlier and at least she’s got things under control there as far as my buyers go. The way things look right now, it could be sometime Tuesday before we get back.”
“Tuesday? So…you’re not going to make it to Riley’s funeral?”
“At this point, I wouldn’t bank on it.”
“Oh. Well, I’m sorry you’ve had such a rotten day.”
“Me too. Um…are you still going to talk to my mother?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Okay. See you soon.”
“I hope so…and Tally?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you. Please be careful driving back.”
“I will. Love you too.”
I snapped the phone shut, thinking how fate has a way of working things out. As badly as I felt about Tally’s situation, the dilemma of how to get the photos to Myra Colton without him knowing had just magically been solved. I was now free to travel alone to her place in Yarnell after the services, which dovetailed nicely into a ready justification for going solo. Hadn’t Thena Rodenborn asked me to do a piece on preserving the historic Ice House? This way I could kill two birds with one stone. Ronda could drive Ruth to the funeral, sparing me the ordeal of spending the entire day in the dour woman’s company. Anyway, there was a good chance she wouldn’t even be speaking to me after I dropped the bomb on her.
I slid from the truck and was halfway to the house when I veered off towards the barn. Yep. I admit it. Dillydallying again. But then, shouldn’t I take a few short minutes to bond with my new mare? The pungent smell of hay, straw and manure greeted me as several horses whinnied a cheery welcome. A warm feeli
ng of serenity washed over me. No wonder Ronda spent most of her time here. I met up with her in the small office and we discussed Tally’s circumstances before I explained the new travel arrangements for Tuesday. Being her usual taciturn self, she shrugged her agreement and went back to her paperwork. I strolled to the tack room, snagged a currycomb plus a handful of sugar cubes and managed to burn up another half hour brushing Starlight Sky. She kept nudging me and seemed to thoroughly enjoy the treat. What an awesome animal!
I returned the currycomb to the tack room and then stopped to visit with Geronimo, who stamped one forefoot and snorted as I approached his stall. “Hey there, big fella, how’re you doing today?” I slipped him the remaining sugar cubes and stroked his neck. Again, I hoped Myra Colton’s sculpture of Tally turned out the way I envisioned it and that he’d be as delighted with his gift as I was with mine. A little thrill of urgency reminded me that I needed to be at the copy shop first thing in the morning to have the enlargements made and I also had to stop at the bank and get the down payment for Myra.
The sound of the barn door opening caught my attention and a spark of irritation jolted me at the sight of Lucinda stepping inside and shaking out her long dark hair as she unzipped her jacket. Clad in jeans so tight they looked like they’d been sprayed on, she looked around expectantly, no doubt hoping to see Tally, and tugged her long-sleeved T-shirt down to make sure ample cleavage showed. Cow. She tapped on the office window, smiled and waved to Ronda before sauntering over to one of the stalls.
“Hello, Daisy Baisy,” she cooed to her Appaloosa mare, “how’s my pretty baby doing today?”
I couldn’t think of anyone I’d rather see less and while her back was turned, I made a beeline for the door. I made it past the office door when I heard her call out, “Well, if it isn’t Kendall O’Dell. Did you enjoy yourself at the craft show yesterday?” Her voice was underscored with animosity.
Shit. I knew she was going to be trouble. “Yeah, it was fun,” I answered over my shoulder in a clipped tone.
“I bet it was,” she continued, her voice ultra-sugary. “It must be a real ego trip to be such a popular person…with strange men anyway.”
My face scalding, I swung around in time to see Ronda appear in the doorway. Her inquisitive gaze bounced between Lucinda and me. “What’s going on, Lucy?”
Her dark eyes shining with malice, Lucinda announced, “Why don’t you ask her?”
Ronda arched a brow at me. “What’s she talking about?”
I felt like a thousand caterpillars were crawling around my insides. “I have no idea.” Armed with the knowledge that Lucinda would like nothing better than to drive a wedge between Tally and me, the last thing I wanted was to divulge any details of my private life.
“Oh, I think you do, ” Lucinda went on, her smile annoyingly smug. “I saw Kendall at the fairgrounds yesterday making out with some really hot-looking guy. He planted one hell of a lip lock on her.” She folded her arms. “Kind of inappropriate behavior for a woman who just got engaged, wouldn’t you say?”
Ronda pinned me with a startled gaze. “Is this true?”
One hell of a lip lock? At that moment, nothing would have given me more pleasure than to knock the ever-living crap out of Lucinda, but Ronda’s questioning stare necessitated some sort of explanation. Impulsively, I decided that a simple white lie would have to do until I could explain the situation to Tally, something I should have already done, I admitted regretfully.
Struggling to maintain my temper, I said matter-of-factly to Lucinda, “That was just an old friend of mine and I’ve already discussed it with Tally. He’s cool with it, so there’s no need for you to concern yourself.” It was supremely satisfying to see her face crumple with disappointment. I turned my attention to Ronda. “I have to go now, your mother is expecting me, but we’ll talk more about this later.” My final remark was designed to let Lucinda know that she would not be included in any further clarification and I left them both standing there with puzzled expressions as I hurried outside, feeling as though I’d dodged a bullet. For now. But I’d better get my ass in gear and update Tally before Lucinda had a chance to give him her version.
I took my good old time ambling towards the ranch house. The low cloud cover combined with the reflected light from the snow, made the ranch property look like a winter wonderland. Enjoying the frosty air, I marveled at the squeaky scrunching sound of snow beneath my boots. With the fog of my own breath illuminated in the amber light of the porch lamp, it struck me that it wouldn’t be too long before my guest status would change to that of permanent resident—wife, sister-in-law and most certainly unwelcome daughter-in-law. The whole scenario still seemed unreal and generated a multitude of conflicting emotions considering the unpleasant task awaiting me now.
“Okay, O’Dell,” I muttered aloud. “Let’s get this over with.”
I knocked on the kitchen door. When it swung open, I was surprised to see the Talversons’ cook standing in the doorway. “Well, hi, Gloria. I wasn’t expecting you until next week.”
“My seester, she is much better now, so I come back early.” She motioned for me to enter the cozy kitchen infused with the mouth-watering aroma of sautéing onions and peppers. I hung my jacket on the hook and rubbed my cold hands together while Gloria hurried back to the stove and stirred the sizzling contents of the frying pan with a wooden spoon. Tonight, I wouldn’t mind staying for dinner.
“Where’s Ruth?”
She tossed her head to one side. “In Meester Joe’s study.”
I stayed in the kitchen for a few minutes, chatting with Gloria and petting the dogs, until I ran out of ways to put off the inevitable. Reluctantly, I made my way along the paneled hallway towards the closed door. Pausing for a measured breath, not yet sure exactly how to frame what I was going to say, I rapped softly.
“Who is it?” came the muffled reply.
“It’s Kendall.”
Swift footfalls and the door jerked opened. “You’ve got some news?” Ruth stared at me, her eyes piercing, expectant. “Come in. Come in,” she urged, waving me inside the dimly lit room where I sank into the leather chair. Skipping any niceties, she got right to it. “Well, let’s have it.”
I shared with her everything I’d learned, saving for last Nora’s unsettling description of the judge’s death. When I finished, her complexion was drained of color. “So which one of these…persons do you think is responsible?” she asked, firing up a cigarette.
I coughed and shifted away from the cloud of smoke. “Without proof, I can’t say for certain that any of them are. I’ve got a couple of other people researching the judge’s past cases trying to establish if there’s a link between any of the ex-convicts, their relatives or any of the victims’ relations who may have harbored a vendetta.”
I couldn’t decipher the odd expression that flitted across her face, but assumed it was because I had not delivered the news she’d been waiting for. I was preparing to mention the strange letters when she surprised me with, “I’m pleased with what you’ve done so far. Keep after it.”
It was time. My stomach was bucking and rolling like a wild horse as the words poured out. “Ruth, I can’t work on this story any more.”
Goggle-eyed, she inhaled sharply. “Why not?”
“Because it’s causing too much friction between me and Tally. Don’t get me wrong. Given the freedom to do so, I’d like nothing better than to pursue it and I hate to disappoint you but…I just can’t.”
“But, what about me? I told you I will never have a moment’s peace until you find out who killed Riley!” she shrieked. “Tally doesn’t understand how…why this is so important. You don’t understand—”
“No, I don’t. Why don’t you enlighten me?”
“Weren’t you listening when I told you about all the terrible things that have happened because of—”
“I know, I know, your bad luck curse,” I filled in, unable to curb my sarcasm.
“Yes, th
at’s it. The curse,” she murmured, her voice trailing off.
The furtive look in her eyes combined with her extended hesitation roused my suspicions. “Ruth, what is it you’re not telling me?”
Her response was dead silence. “I should never have trusted you. I was right. You’re just like—”
“Don’t even finish that sentence,” I interjected, my own temper flaring. “The last thing I want is to have more dissension between us. But, you’re going to have to take this issue up with Tally. It’s his wish that I not—”
“But…the situation is too critical for you to back out now!”
If she thought she was going to manipulate me like her children she was sorely mistaken. “I’m sorry.” I rose abruptly and headed towards the door. What a total drama queen.
“Wait!”
The undertone of sheer panic in her voice stopped me. I turned back to her. “What?”
Her imploring gaze signaled such profound anguish, my heart faltered. I’d thought she was just yanking my chain, but there was obviously something else going on. “This isn’t about some old curse, is it?”
“Not completely.”
I had the beginnings of a tension headache. “Look, Ruth, if you’ve got some kind of pertinent information regarding Riley’s murder it’s your duty to alert the authorities right away.”
She turned her head away. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“It’s…complicated.”
She had my full attention. “I can’t help if you don’t level with me.”
I expected her to blow me off but instead her shoulders sagged in defeat. Slowly, she turned back to meet my inquiring gaze. “I always told myself that this would go to my grave with me,” she said hoarsely.
I broke out in a cold sweat. This didn’t sound good. “I’m listening.”
“Can you keep a confidence?”
Her question riled me even further. “Of course I can.”
Still hesitant, she ran her tongue at a snail’s pace along her lower lip. “Then, this has to be…how do you say it in reporter’s jargon…off the record?”
