For every answer Jason got, two more questions were born, but Ken returned at that time and sat down to eat, stopping any further questions from being asked.
“So how’s that little girl friend of yours doing?” Jason asked, giving the boy a sly grin.
“Not too good,” his nephew replied quietly. “She said her daddy dudn’t wanna play with her much no more.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Jason replied solemnly. “Do you have any good news?”
“I made it to second base,” Ken said with a little grin.
Rye cocked an eyebrow. “A little young for second base, aren’t you?” he declared.
“He plays baseball,” Jason explained quickly, afraid that Rye was about to give Ken the sex-talk.
“Oh,” Rye said with a hint of embarrassment in his voice. “Good sport.”
“Well, good job on second base,” Jason said as raised his hand and gave the boy a fist bump.
After setting silent for a moment, thinking about what Ken had said about the girl, knowing how it felt to have a parent removed from the life of a child, Jason asked kindly, “So how’s your friend handling the deal with her dad?”
“Not too bad,” the boy replied. “He did get them a dog. I think that really helped.”
Jason nodded his head in agreement. There was nothing like a good dog to comfort a broken heart. And, of course, that led him to think about Dixie. She had been an awesome dog, but Jason knew it was time to let her go. He had to let everything go. His love for Dixie. His hate for Denton. If he was to get to the sunny side of the Tombstone and save Misty, he would be forced to leave all of his past buried there.
About that time, Tyler and Susan returned to the table like nothing had happened. A short time later, Tyler got up from the table and groaned. “Boy, that was good,” he sighed. “I’m stuffed.”
Susan turned from washing dishes and smiled. “Glad you enjoyed it,” she said in a happy voice.
“Well,” Tyler said, looking around at the others, “y’all want to help Susan do the dishes or head to the living room with me?”
“I’ve washed enough dishes to last me a life time,” Rye said with a laugh and, judging by the look on Ken’s face, he was going to follow the “other” cowboys wherever they went.
The three of them headed towards the living room, but Jason hung back. “I’ll be right there,” he assured the guys.
After they disappeared, he turned to Susan. “What happened outside?” he asked. “What’s the deal with Tyler?”
Jason saw a look of happiness come over her face. “He was once a follower of Christ!” she exclaimed like it was the happiest news ever… then her face brightened even more as she added, “And he’s thinking about coming to church sometime! Isn’t God awesome?” she asked in awe.
“Yeah… totally,” Jason replied, his lack of enthusiasm evident. “Um, what was it about praying that got to him?”
“Prayer is a strong thing,” Susan explained and, judging by the sound of her voice, she left no room for argument. “When I found him outside, he was in tears,” she went on. “Remember what happened this morning… that thing with his past? He told me everything. You were right when you said that good people make mistakes,” she said then went back to washing dishes like she was finished talking.
“Well, what was it?” Jason demanded. “That, that thing in his past? What’d he do?”
Susan looked up at him in surprise. “Jason, he told me those things in private and in confidence,” she lectured. “There’s no way I’m going to break that trust.”
“What?” Jason asked in frustration. “I’ve been here for… I can’t remember how long I’ve been here but a lot longer than you. You’ve only been here for a day, and he tells you everything? Why didn’t he tell me?”
Susan smiled mischievously and playfully pointed the kitchen knife she had been washing at Jason as she said, “Because you’re not a woman.”
“What?” Jason groaned in frustration. “Not a woman? What’s being a woman got to do with anything?” he demanded.
“It helps,” Susan replied with a laugh as she returned to washing dishes.
Jason just shook his head and gave a small chuckle of frustration as he walked away to join the other men in the living room.
And so the days began to pass by in much the same manner – helping Tyler and Rye work horses, running, carrying the rocks and trying to make it up the cliff… and then the day came that he did. As he reached the top and stood victorious at the summit, Jason knew it was a small victory, but he couldn’t help the swelling sense of pride that grew in his chest. With such a feeling of happiness, there was no way Jason could have known or been prepared for the shock that awaited him.
Chapter Eighteen
The following evening, as Jason was helping Susan feed the horses, he heard the clink of spurs as someone approached. By the stretched out rhythm the jingle held, Jason knew it was Tyler. He turned with some greeting on his lips but cut it off short when he saw the expression on Tyler’s face.
“What is it?” he asked nervously.
“FBI lady’s here to see you,” the tall cowboy replied. “Won’t say what she wants, but seems like she’s got a big one. Kind of makes me uneasy.”
Closing the stall gate behind him, Jason apprehensively walked out to the open area in front of the barns. There, next to Tyler’s hanging tree, a shiny black Cadillac was parked. Standing beside it, with arms folded across her chest, was a thin woman who appeared to be in her mid-thirties. Her hair was pulled back into a tight pony-tail that hung no lower than her shoulders. A business suit and dress slacks completed her sterile, hand sanitizing, professional look.
When she removed her aviator style shades with mirrored lenses, Jason saw that her dark brown eyes held a stern, determined flare to them. “Jason Hathaway,” she spoke, and her tone made it sound like a cross between a question and a statement.
“Yes ma’am,” he responded warily. Why was she here?
“I’m Agent Bethany Weathers,” she spoke, and it seemed as though the kindness in her voice was more of a diplomatic formality than her true personality. “I just need to ask you a few questions.”
Jason’s stomach was knotting up. His mind ran through a thousand questions a minute. Was she on the sheriff’s side? Did she come to arrest him? Maybe she was investigating the sheriff’s questionable methods. If that was the case, Jason could give her enough dirt to bury the egotistic lawman under.
“In the days or weeks leading up to her disappearance, did Misty mention anything about going out of the county?” the agent asked, never changing expressions.
Jason arched an eyebrow. “No,” he replied, his tone questioning. “Why?”
“Two days before her kidnapping, she purchased a passport to Mexico.” The agent paused. “Were you aware of this?”
Jason just stared at her in silence. “No,” he finally spoke in a dull voice. “No, she, um, she wouldn’t do that… not without telling me. You must be mistaken.”
“No mistake,” she responded.
“But I would have seen the debits from our checking account.”
“This isn’t from your joint checking,” the agent responded. “She’s the only one on this account.”
“That, that can’t be,” he stammered more to himself, casting his gaze downward. “She wouldn’t. There’s just the one.” He looked up. “Can you show me?”
After a moment of silent debate with herself, the agent opened the door of her car and reached in, retrieving a laptop. Not saying a word, she held the computer in one hand as she opened it and began typing with the other. After a bit, she stopped and turned the screen to face Jason. He approached and looked down at the laptop. The first thing he saw was the balance; it was over twenty thousand dollars. There was Misty’s full name – some charges to various antique stores and a donation to her favorite charity. If it wasn’t her, it was a good set up.
Then Jason saw it – the passport pu
rchase. “Why would she do that?” he whispered harshly as he ran his fingers through his hair, turning to look away. He had no prior knowledge of this account. Looking back, something just made him stare blankly. “There’s a purchase just like it two transactions up.” That didn’t make sense. “Why’d she have to pay twice?”
“She didn’t,” the agent replied. “That’s a separate purchase.” She paused for a moment, seeming to gage his reaction as she added, “Seems as though she bought a passport for someone else, as well.” A jolt of electricity seemed to pass through Jason’s body. Not letting him form the jumble of questions spinning through his mind, she pointed to the screen, several transactions further up. “Then, one day before her disappearance, she purchased two plane tickets to Cancun Mexico… one way.”
Jason’s eyes swam. He felt the blood rushing to his face. Did Misty know? Had she found out he was tricking her? He hadn’t thought about how much of a risk he’d been taking. If she found out, that would be the last straw.
“Who’s the other passport for?” Jason asked and his voice cracked. He didn’t want to know, but not knowing was worse.
“That’s the thing,” the agent replied, her voice softening. “We haven’t figured it out yet. She purchased it separate; why, I don’t know. It was simple enough to match her purchase to her passport; finding out who the other one is for has proven to be a bit more difficult.” She studied Jason. “I’m sorry to give it to you so bluntly but, if the passport was for you, it would have saved us a lot of trouble. But it’s not yours, is it?” The question sounded more like a statement.
Jason didn’t answer. That was just too much to admit. “When’s the departure date?” he asked.
“The day after your climb,” came the somber reply. “You should call it off,” she added, “at least until we know more.” She was silent for a moment. “Do you have life insurance?”
“Yeah,” Jason replied blankly. “Half-a-million.”
“Think about it,” the agent concluded, closing the computer. “What are the odds of climbing the Tombstone without ropes and without dying?”
“Slim.”
“And who are the beneficiaries on the policy?”
“Just Misty.”
“Think about it, and give me a call if you need anything,” the agent added, placing a card into his hand.
“Thanks,” he mumbled as she climbed back into her car.
Susan was almost finished feeding the horses. Jason wouldn’t have been able to help anyways. His mind was so numb, he could barely function. As the motor of the Cadillac fired to life, he turned away and began slowly trudging up the hill to his cabin.
- - - - - -
Jason stared down at his plate. He had no appetite for the feast of chicken-fried-steak, corn, and mashed potatoes before him. Laying his clean fork down on the table, he cast a glance towards the door. “Sorry guys,” he muttered, “I’m just not hungry. Think I’ll head up and turn in.”
“Everything okay?” Susan asked.
“Fine,” he replied dryly. “I’m gonna run to the restroom first.” With that, he rose from his seat and walked away.
Once he was out of ear shot, Susan turned to Tyler. “I’m not sure I believe him. Did something happen?”
“Don’t know,” Tyler replied honestly. “After that FBI lady left, he just disappeared up to his shack. Didn’t see him again until a few minutes ago when he came in for supper.”
“Do you know why she was here?” Susan asked.
“Nope, just said she needed to talk to Jason,” Tyler replied then turned as he heard the sound of the back door closing. Jason, after leaving the bathroom, had gone out the back way.
“I may run up and ask him about it later,” Susan said, toying thoughtfully through her helping of corn with her fork.
After supper, Rye vanished into the living room. Tyler suspected it was to avoid any chance of getting roped into helping with the dishes. He and Susan stood side by side over the double sink. She washed, and he rinsed and dried.
They were almost finished when Tyler jerked his hand back in surprise. “Ouch!” he exclaimed. “I cut myself.” He had been rinsing a steak knife. Holding it in one hand, he looked at his finger where a small amount of blood began to surface.
Susan took his hand and looked at the cut. He looked at her. “You better put a bandage on that,” she advised. “Don’t want it to get infected.”
“Infected?” Tyler scoffed as he tossed the knife back into her side of the sink. “From that little cut?”
“Please,” Susan asked gently. “It would make me feel better.”
Since she put it that way, how could he not? “Okay, you win,” he said with a little chuckle. “Don’t want it to fall off or nothin’.”
He walked into the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. Searching through it, he found the small box marked Band-Aid. As he was sticking the bandage onto his finger, he noticed something. Walking into the living room, he stopped in the doorway. “Rye, did you do somethin’ with the whiskey?”
“No,” the younger cowboy replied, looking a bit confused as he glanced up from the book he had been engrossed in. Then he smiled. “I’d ask Susan about it. If she found it, she probably poured it down the sink.” He paused. “Where was it, anyways?”
“Medicine cabinet,” Tyler replied. “Cut my finger while I was helping Susan wash dishes. Had to break open the Band-Aid box.” He held up his hand, showing the wrapped finger like his actions had been standard procedure.
Rye looked at him in disbelief then at the plain brown bandage. Then he smiled. “Awe,” he spoke in a mockingly sympathetic tone, “did we run out of the princess ones?”
“Watch it,” Tyler laughed as he turned, heading towards the kitchen. Finding Susan still busy washing dishes, he asked, “Did you drink all the whiskey?”
As he expected, she turned around in surprise. “Whiskey?” she demanded. “Why I never,” she paused, catching herself, “not in a long time, anyways!”
“Alright,” Tyler laughed, holding up his hands, palms out, at chest level. “So you haven’t seen it?”
“No,” she replied then a questioning look came across her face. “Where was it?”
“In the medicine cabinet,” Tyler responded casually. Susan just looked at him like she thought he was crazy. “I’m gonna go check again,” he said. “May have fallen over or somethin’.”
Walking back into the bathroom, Tyler began searching through the bottom of the medicine cabinet. Nothing. No sign. After searching several other locations, he returned to the kitchen. “Didn’t find…” he started to say to Susan, but she was nowhere to be seen. “Susan?” he spoke. “Hey Rye,” he hollered as he headed to the living room. Coming to the doorway and finding Rye still seated, looking up at him from his book, he asked, “you seen Susan?”
“No,” Rye responded. “Why?”
“I can’t find her.”
“First you lose your whiskey, now Susan,” Rye said, shaking his head, pretending to be sad. “This must be a hard time for you.” He paused briefly then, with a gleam in his eye, added, “You know, they may’ve ran off together.”
Tyler chuckled and shook his head. “They would certainly make an interesting couple.”
Rye laughed at the mental image and returned to his book as Tyler headed back into the kitchen. “Susan?” he called out.
“Su-san!” Rye mocked him from the living room. “Su-san! I can’t lose both of you!” Tyler rolled his eyes. Boy didn’t know when to quit.
- - - - - -
After trudging up the long hill, Susan came to a stop on the porch of Jason’s little shack. Reaching up, she knocked gently on the door. No response. After a bit, she knocked louder. Still nothing. Finally, she cracked the door open slightly. “Jason?” she spoke questioningly. She saw no sign of him. A fire was burning in the stove that sat out in the middle of the room. She looked at the bed. It was made. She stepped on in, closing the door behind her. “Jason,” s
he spoke his name again, a bit of alarm starting to seep into her voice.
His laundry was in a haphazard stack on the table. Beside the pile, his phone, wallet, and watch all lay spread out across a small portion of the table. That wasn’t all she saw there; his wedding ring lay on top of his wallet. She turned back towards the stove. That’s when she saw him. He lay limp in the floor, propped up on an old bedroll, his vacant eyes wide open. The whiskey bottle Tyler had been searching for sat half-empty on the floor by his side. The fingers from his left hand were curled loosely around it.
“Jason!” Susan cried in alarm. He didn’t respond. Didn’t move. Didn’t even blink. Several seconds passed as she rushed to his side. “Jason,” she spoke loudly and gave him an abrupt shake. In response, he brought the bottle to his lips and took a swallow. He let out a harsh breath in response to the burn.
“What are you doing?” Susan demanded.
“Drinkin’,” he replied, never taking his gaze off the flames that danced in the stove.
“Why?” she asked in confusion. Her big eyes were bright; concern shown from them, illuminated by the dancing flames.
Several seconds ticked by. “FBI lady showed me a checking account of Misty’s… one I didn’t know existed,” Jason spoke slowly. Susan’s eyes grew wide. “Showed me where she’d purchased two passports.”
“For who?” Susan asked skeptically.
“One’s for her. They haven’t figured out who tha’ other one’s for.” He took another drink, eyes still fastened on the flames. He let out a rough blast of air. “She also bought two plane tickets to Mexico… one way.”
Susan’s eyes grew wide. “Jason,” she spoke sharply, “are you suggesting that my sister set up her own kidnapping and had you beaten just so she could run off to Mexico… and, and why the Tombstone, huh?”
“I have a five-hundred-thousand dollar life insurance policy and Misty’ll get it all.” Susan just stared at him in disbelief. “What am I supposed to believe?” he asked quietly. “She got two passports and two plane tickets.”
Beneath the Tombstone (The Tombstone Series) Page 25
