Deadly Aim: A Shandra Higheagle Mystery #3

by Paty Jager

  Ryan’s phone rang. “Detective Greer.”

  “This is Melvin Clower. I heard you wanted to talk with me.”

  “Yes. Is there a time and place we can meet?”

  “I’ll be at the Fish and Game office this afternoon.” He paused. “What is this about?”

  “The allegations against J.W. Randal.” Ryan wasn’t going to say anything about the man being dead if the Fish and Game officer didn’t know.

  “Do you think that had anything to do with his death?”

  The hopefulness in the man’s voice raised Ryan’s interest. “That’s what I’m trying to determine.”

  “I’ll be at the Fish and Game office at one.” Ryan pushed the off button and started to redial Todd Smith.

  His phone buzzed. “Detective Greer,” he answered without looking at the number.

  “I had a dream last night,” Shandra said without so much as a greeting.

  The breathiness of her voice told him she believed the dream might have something to do with the murder.

  “What was it about?” He never wrote down her dreams or how they led him to clues. There were very few law enforcement colleagues who believed in psychic help when it came to catching murderers. However, Ryan grew up being told of the little people from his Irish mother and had Native American friends who told him stories he believed. All his past experience made him a believer in Shandra’s dreams even when she wasn’t.

  “A man in the forest pulled an SD card out of a camera and stomped it into the ground.” Her voice shook with anticipation. “Do you have the locations of the wildlife cameras on Randal’s property?”

  “I do have the information. Why?” He knew where this was leading and didn’t like the idea of her traipsing around in the forest.

  “I think I can find the spot if I visit the locations. I know it wasn’t where we found the dead elk. The trees were larger, the undergrowth denser.”

  “You think the SD card will still be on the ground?” The whole idea was as farfetched as believing in her dreams.

  “Yes. Lil and I can scout around and see if I can find it.” Shandra had to make Ryan see this was the best way to get information that would help the investigation.

  She bit her lip. He had to agree. As usual, talking to Ryan about a dream made it feel less hokey and more real. Even though all the dreams where Ella appeared had proven to be viable clues, she still questioned her sanity upon waking.

  “I won’t have you going onto Randal’s property. That would be trespassing. If you can wait until later this afternoon, I’ll bring the map and we’ll decide which places to look tomorrow.”

  “But tomorrow—”

  Ryan cut her off. “It will be too late by the time I finish my interviews today to ride around on the mountain looking for specific areas.”

  Disappointment lodged in her chest. She’d hoped to have the clue in her hands by this evening. Without the knowledge of the camera sites she’d be wandering around the forest like a blind person.

  She opened the paper Lil had picked up with the mail earlier that morning. There was a front page article on the death of J.W. Randal.

  “Okay. I’ll wait for you to bring the information.” Shandra pressed the off button and started reading the small town bias of J.W.’s life.

  She read the article and reread it to make sure she didn’t miss anything that might be a clue to who would want him dead. The main thing that stuck out was the fact that J.W. and his wife moved to Huckleberry five years ago. And while the wife was a prominent figure in all the local charities and fundraisers, J.W. had made more enemies than friends. He was brash and loud spoken, and then the illegal hunting on Huckleberry Mountain had turned just about every local against him. The mountain and the wildlife were part of the draw for tourists. And tourism was the main thing that kept the little community from becoming a ghost town. The article mentioned how an anonymous tip was turned in to Fish and Game about his illegal hunting methods. A long-time resident and Fish and Game officer Melvin Clower was sent to investigate.

  She sucked in air reading the part about how Randal’s neighbor, local artist Shandra Higheagle, had found the body on her property. And how it seemed that once again the artist found herself in the middle of a murder investigation.

  “Now mother will see this,” Shandra said, petting Sheba’s head. “That’s all I need.”

  She set the paper down and closed her eyes to resurrect the images from her dream. If she didn’t think about it long and hard, she’d forget the details that would help her find the SD card.

  Sheba bumped her arm.

  “Yes, you want to go for a walk. So do I.” Shandra glanced down at the paper. “I think we should take a neighborly stroll over to the Randals with a sympathy card. I need to figure out if that blue-crystal pendant we found belongs to one of the women on the Randal property.”

  Shandra dressed, fed Sheba, and ate a couple slices of toast. She picked out one of the watercolor cards she painted when drawing up vase designs. She added her condolences and signed it.

  Outside, the crisp air filled her lungs. Soon October would be here and the leaves would turn colors, drift to the ground, and crunch underfoot. She loved the fall. The need for sweaters and sweatshirts and the sense of the world around her hibernating.

  A few more days and she’d be traveling north to the wedding with Ryan. She was curious about his family. She’d witnessed his annoyance and love for his sisters. When he talked about his siblings and parents she could feel the closeness. That was something she had never felt with her mother and step-father. It was as if they kept her at arm’s length, never wanting to get close. She believed her mother loved her but was almost afraid to show it.

  Shandra walked into the barn.

  “Where are you going so early? I thought you wanted to work in the studio today.” Lil, her conscience, stood just outside the door to the tack room where she lived.

  Try as she might to get the woman to move into the house, or into the small apartment above the studio, Lil adamantly declined and resided in the tack room, using the small bathroom in the upstairs apartment.

  “Taking a sympathy card to Vivian Randal.” Shandra tucked the card into her down vest pocket and grabbed Apple’s bridle.

  “You could mail it. Or better yet, wait until Detective Greer can go with you.” Lil followed her to the corral.

  “I’ll just drop it off—”

  “And get in trouble somehow.”

  Shandra made a face at Lil. “How can I get into trouble by dropping off a sympathy card?”

  “You’ll ask questions that will make them think you’re trying to find the killer, which you are, and then Detective Greer will have to save you, again.” Lil had her arms crossed over her extra-large purple sweatshirt. Her spiky hair stuck out underneath a purple stocking cap.

  “What if I said, I’d love to have you join me?” Shandra hoped the woman’s protectiveness and curiosity would get her a riding partner.

  “They don’t want me over there.” Lil shook her head.

  “You don’t have to come in the house. You can wait outside with the horses if you’re uncomfortable.” Shandra didn’t believe Vivian or Cecily were dangerous and after last night she doubted the Hastings were either, but she’d learned after the last two bodies she’d found to never trust anyone. The only people she trusted and knew didn’t kill J.W. were Ryan and Lil.

  The woman nodded her head and walked over to her horse’s stall.

  Within minutes Apple and Sunshine, Lil’s horse, were saddled, and they headed down the lane with Sheba trotting ahead.

  Going straight through the forest to the hidden gate would have been quicker, but Shandra didn’t want to make a habit of using the gate or messing up anything that might be evidence.

  At the Randal’s driveway the gates were shut.

  “Looks like they don’t want company,” Lil commented. She reined Sunshine around.

  “I’m sure they don’t mean
well-meaning neighbors.” Shandra dismounted and opened the gate, waving Lil through.

  “Didn’t they have gates in Montana?” Lil asked.

  “They did. But neighbors were neighborly.” Shandra re-mounted and continued up the driveway.

  Fifty feet from the house they stopped the horses as Red walked out the front door. “Didn’t you see the closed gate? This family is grieving.”

  Shandra walked Apple up to the walkway. “I came to deliver a sympathy card.” She dismounted, handed the reins to Lil, and told Sheba to stay.

  Red took a couple steps forward. “Thank you, now leave. Viv—Mrs. Randal isn’t in the mood for visitors.” He took the card Shandra extended.

  “Please let her know if there is anything I can do for her, all she has to do is ask. Neighbors should be there for one another.” Shandra stayed where she was hoping the man would give in at her sincerity.

  “Viv—Mrs. Randal has her niece. She’ll be fine.” Red turned, dismissing her.

  “Please relay my willingness to help with anything.” Shandra huffed when the man entered the house and closed the door soundly.

  “Told you so,” Lil said, holding out Apple’s reins.

  Shandra couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto her lips. “Yes, you did.”

  She swung up into the saddle and turned Apple back down the driveway. Once she was out of sight of the house, she turned into the trees.

  “Where are you going?” Lil asked, stopping her horse on the road.

  “I don’t feel like opening and closing that gate. Let’s just cut through the forest.” Shandra kept going, knowing Lil would follow. She was too protective to leave her loose in the woods.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ryan decided that since he couldn’t contact Todd Smith via phone he’d drive to Hafersville and see if he could catch up to the man. He seemed to be a one-man security outfit. There was an answering machine at his business number and his cell phone said his inbox was full.

  The drive took him past Shandra and the Randal’s driveways. The closed gate at the Randal driveway raised his suspicions. If there had been media trying to get in it would make sense but there wasn’t a soul stopped on the road hoping to get in and speak to the family. Why were they closing out the rest of the world? Especially when they know the police will have to speak to them about the investigation.

  If he hadn’t set his mind on contacting Smith, he would have turned around and entered those closed gates. Something was up.

  Forty minutes later, he found the small building two blocks off Main Street where Smith had his office. The building was dark, but he tried the door anyway. It gave and he walked in. A red blinking light shone up by the ceiling across from the door. He had surveillance cameras.

  “Todd Smith, I’m with the Weippe County Sheriff’s Office,” he said loud enough for any receivers to pick up his voice.

  The lights came on and a door directly under the surveillance camera opened.

  “What brings the county to my door?” asked a small, bald-headed man between fifty and sixty.

  “I’m investigating the murder of J.W. Randal.” Ryan showed the man his badge.

  “I saw the story in the paper. Didn’t believe it at first. J.W. was one tough hombre.” Smith closed the door behind him and leaned against a glass counter filled with wildlife and surveillance cameras.

  “I understand you helped him install wildlife cameras on his property.” Ryan pulled out his notepad and pen.

  “Yes, what does that have to do with his murder?” Smith straightened.

  “One of the cameras is missing. The one where we believe he was shot.” Ryan studied the man. He didn’t show any nervous ticks or tendencies. His hands remained steady, his gaze didn’t flicker.

  Smith rubbed a hand over his bald head. “Which camera?”

  “That’s what I’m hoping you can tell me. I have the serial numbers of the others. We need you to check your records to find the missing serial number. If whoever took it tries to sell or pawn the camera we can hopefully catch them and ask why, and see if they are the murderer.” Ryan flipped open his notepad to the page with the serial numbers Speaks gave him that morning.

  “Sure. I have the serial numbers and the areas they were each set up.” Smith turned to the door. “I’ll be right back. I keep all the paperwork in the back. People don’t like knowing someone is watching them.” He disappeared.

  Ryan wasn’t worried he wouldn’t return. The man hadn’t shown any worried or fearful actions. He seemed willing to help.

  Smith returned with a notebook. The side had the word RANDAL written in black marker.

  “I keep a notebook on all clients. The equipment they purchase and where it’s located on their property or on the property of the person they are spying on. When the subpoenas come in from spouses and the like, it makes my life a whole lot easier to just hand over the notebook.”

  He handed the book to Ryan.

  There were only six pages in the inch-wide binder. Ryan scanned the serial numbers matching them to the ones on his notepad. He placed a finger on the third one. “That’s the missing camera.” He scribbled the number in his pad.

  Smith turned the book his way. “Six, zero, three.” He turned the page and skimmed his finger down the page. “Here. That camera was set up about fifty feet from the fence line of his neighbor on the east side. It was attached to a tree four feet from the ground. He wanted to see if there was a pattern in the movement of the elk coming across the fence at that point.”

  “How easy would that camera be to spot?”

  “They were cameras to watch wildlife. They weren’t hidden at all.”

  “Anyone could have spotted the camera and yanked it off the tree?” Was the camera yanked off before or after the murder? If the person knew of the camera, he would have removed it before killing the man. If he spotted it afterward, he would have yanked it off to hide evidence of the crime.

  “It was in plain sight. J.W. wanted it that way so his employee could find them easily to remove the SD cards for viewing.”

  Ryan pulled the book back toward him and scanned the pages. New SD card installed in camera 5. It was a handwritten notation.

  “What’s this about?” He asked.

  Smith read the notation and shook his head. “Red Hasting called me and said he thought he forgot to put a new SD card into camera five but he didn’t have any extras so could I send them a new one.”

  “When was this?” Ryan had a feeling he knew where the missing SD card was.

  “About three weeks ago.”

  Ryan made a notation of camera 5-find location in his notepad. “Thank you for your help. I’ll need to take that book as evidence.” He packed the book out to his SUV, pulled out an evidence bag and filled out the information. Then he took a form back to Smith and had him sign that the book had been in his possession and he released it to Detective Greer with the time and date.

  Ryan shook Smith’s hand. “If you happen to think of anything that might be of help, give me a call.” He handed the man a card with his name and number.

  Sliding into the driver’s seat, Ryan glanced at the clock on his dash. He barely had time to get back to Huckleberry in an hour to interview Clower.

  ~*~

  Shandra led Lil through the trees and around behind the Randal buildings.

  “This isn’t the way to your fence. In fact, it’s the complete opposite,” Lil said, in a voice louder than was necessary.

  “You want to get us caught?” Shandra whispered loudly.

  “I’m trying to keep you from getting arrested for trespassing.” Again her voice was too loud.

  “Shhh. I’m looking for the start of the path that goes to the hidden gate I found the other day.” Shandra knew exactly where the path started. It started at the back of the Randal barn. The barn that housed the surveillance equipment according to Ryan. She was determined to find out the locations of the cameras. She was confident the dream Ella sent to he
r would help them find J.W.’s killer.

  “I can see it plain as day over there.” Lil pointed to their left.

  Shandra sent one long look at the back of the barn and turned Apple onto the trail. Maybe bringing Lil along hadn’t been such a good idea. Having a conscience with a loud voice wasn’t as easy to ignore as the tiny one sitting on her shoulder.

  With a deep sigh, she continued up the trail. Lil didn’t say a thing, and Sheba bounded up the trail in front of them.

  Shandra lost sight of her dog as her mind raced back over the scene at the Randal house. She couldn’t come up with any reason why they would shut the world out. Not unless one of them had confessed to killing J.W. and the rest were rallying around to keep the secret.

  “Woof! Woof!” Sheba’s surprised bark echoed through the forest.

  Shandra turned in her saddle and glanced back at Lil. She shrugged.

  Urging Apple into a trot, she hurried forward to see what had startled Sheba.

  The dog had reached the hidden gate. Three men in deputy uniforms were backed against the fence staring at Sheba.

  “Down girl,” Shandra said, just to put the men at ease. Within minutes of recognizing her master was close to protect her, Sheba loped up to the men. Whimpering and squirming like a puppy, she licked each one on the back of their hand before trotting back to Shandra.

  She recognized one man as one of the two deputies who had first arrived when Ryan called in the body.

  “Miss Higheagle what are you doing on the Randal’s property?” the deputy asked, stepping away from the other men. She read his name tag. Trapp.

  “Lil and I delivered a sympathy card,” she said, feeling no guilt at being caught.

  “You could have used the road,” he countered.

  “We could have. But it won’t be long and we won’t be able to go on a horse ride because of all the snow.”

  “I realize you are the one who reported this gate. But do you think it’s wise to use it right now?” Deputy Trapp now stood beside Apple’s head. He grasped the headstall.

  “Whoever killed my neighbor isn’t interested in me.” She stared at his hand wrapped around the leather headstall. “Please release my horse and let us through.” Her voice came out harder and deeper than she’d intended.