by Paty Jager
“Morning, Shandra. You meeting that fine detective of yours?” Ruthie asked, placing a glass of water in front of her.
A smile spread across her lips. “He’s not my detective, but yes, I am meeting him.”
Ruthie laughed. “You may not think he’s yours but he thinks you’re his.”
Shandra was jolted by the comment. She’d been treated like a possession by Carl and wasn’t about to go that route again. “I’ll have my usual.”
Ruthie’s smile disappeared. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No. You just jogged a memory.” Shandra took a sip of water. A bad memory.
“Morning Detective,” Ruthie called out as the door jingled.
Shandra glanced over her glass. Ryan smiled and strode forward. He might be pushy, tough, and persistent with people on his job, but he’d given her all the space she needed. He was nothing like Dr. Landers. She smiled. “There’s my lunch date.” Shandra waved a hand at the seat across from her.
Ryan laughed and placed his ball cap on the bench seat beside him. “It’s a working lunch date for me.”
Ruthie appeared at the end of the table. “What can I get you?”
“Iced tea, burger, and fries.” Ryan smiled at Ruthie.
“They’ll be out in ten.” Ruthie pivoted and headed for the kitchen.
“Any luck with the jewelry stores?” Shandra asked.
He shook his head. “No. Everyone says it looks vintage but they didn’t sell, repair, or clean it.”
“If it’s vintage that could mean it’s a family heirloom.” Shandra tapped her finger against her glass of water, thinking. “There’s a chance it could be looked up on a vintage jewelry site. We wouldn’t know who owns it, but we can narrow down when and where it was made and sold. That might help discover possibilities of who could own it.”
Ryan held his phone out to her. “You didn’t get a chance to look it over very close the other day before I bagged it as evidence. Here’s what it looks like in the photo.”
Shandra made the photo larger and studied the jewelry. One of the stones appeared brighter. “There has to be a jeweler who knows this piece. It looks like one of the stones has been replaced.” She glanced up at Ryan. “Can I see the pendant?”
“It’s being held in the evidence room at the Huckleberry Police Station. We can go there after lunch. No one in Huckleberry repaired it.” Ryan ran a hand across the back of his neck. “How did the piece you were working on turn out?”
She smiled, pleased he’d asked. “It’s going to be one of my best pieces. You inspired it.”
His eyes lit up and a smile spread across his chiseled features. “I did. How?”
“Our walk in the forest yesterday triggered an idea.” She glanced down at the photo of the blue pendant. The pendant had a large part in the outcome of the vase as well.
“Did you try Hafersville or Missoula?” She handed his phone back. “Those are the other two close towns that would have jewelers. Or even Coeur d’Alene. It’s not that far of a drive. Especially if they were already there and that’s when they lost the stone.”
Ryan leaned back as Ruthie placed their food in front of them.
“Enjoy.”
The woman strolled away calling out to a customer walking through the door.
“I can check Hafersville and Missoula this afternoon. If nothing comes up, how do you feel about heading to Coeur d’Alene early tomorrow? We can canvas the jewelry stores and hit the art galleries before I have to make an appearance at the rehearsal.”
“Only if you take me with you this afternoon. If you go on to Missoula, I’d like you to drop me off at the retirement center. I’ve been meaning to get over there and see Phil Seeton.” Shandra bit a sweet potato fry and studied Ryan. He knew Phil was her connection to her father and she was interested in how he died. He also wasn’t keen on her investigating her father’s death.
“If all you do is reminisce about your father and not try to build a conspiracy, I’d love to have you ride along this afternoon.”
Ryan watched Shandra. His words fell on deaf ears. She would talk to Seeton about whatever she wanted. He just hoped if she did come up with her father’s death being foul play, she’d come to him with the information she gathered and not confront the murderer.
“I can’t promise you we won’t talk about the day Daddy died.” The solemnness to her voice proved how much she’d cared for her father even as a four-year-old.
“I know you’d never keep the promise anyway.” Ryan reached across the table, placing his hand over hers. “Just promise if you discover your father’s accident wasn’t an accident, you talk it over with me before saying anything to anyone else.”
Her golden eyes peered into his. “That I can promise.”
He squeezed her hand. “Good. Eat.”
Ryan chatted about his visit with Bridget the day before while they ate. “I don’t know why my family is so curious about you. You’d think I hadn’t dated since Lissa.”
Shandra stopped in the act of biting her burger and stared at him. “Have you dated since Lissa?”
He shrugged. “I had some dates in Chicago. But with my job it was hard to make plans in advance and know I’d keep them.” His good mood soured thinking about Chicago and his undercover assignment. The one that had nearly killed him.
This time Shandra reached out to him. “I can tell something happened to you in Chicago. Something you don’t want to talk about. When you’re ready, I’ll listen and not be judgmental.”
She was too intuitive. He’d known that from the first time they’d met. But he’d done things to fit into the gang that a sane person wouldn’t do. He’d thought cracking down on the violence the gangs had unleashed on the poorer neighborhoods would get him a promotion. Instead, it got him a near death wake-up call.
“When I feel the need to bare my soul, you’re the one I’d feel the most comfortable telling.” He turned his hand, clasping her palm in his.
Her eyes widened, before her lashes fluttered down, hiding her emotions behind a veil of dark lashes.
“You two need any refills?” Ruthie asked, her face beaming as her gaze leapt from him, to their clasped hands, to Shandra, and back to him.
“We’re good.” Ryan released Shandra’s hand and tossed his napkin on his plate. “Ready to roll?”
“Yes.” Shandra shoved her plate to the middle of the table and stood, pulling on her coat.
At the police station, Ryan signed the necklace out of the evidence room then left Shandra in the break room studying the blue flower with Hazel watching over the evidence. He printed out a copy of the photo from the email forensics sent him. If they couldn’t connect the jewelry with someone, they were at a standstill. He did get a court order to look into the financial records of Vivian Randal, Cecily Wagner, the Hastings, Takagi, Smith, and because of the man’s evasiveness when they’d talked about the photo, Clower. Cathleen and a deputy were pulling the financial records. He’d get a copy of those this evening when he returned from his road trip with Shandra.
He walked into the break room and found Shandra and Hazel visiting. The necklace sat on the table between them.
“Tell me you’ve seen this necklace before,” Ryan said as he picked it up.
Hazel shook her head. “Sorry. It’s pretty and I would have noticed it if I’d ever seen it.”
“It definitely has had a jewel replaced.” Shandra plucked the jewelry from his hand and pointed to a stone on the end of a petal. “It’s this one. See how it’s clearer, not as scratched as the rest.” She turned the flower. “And this prong here…It’s been patched.”
Ryan held out his hand. Shandra dropped the necklace in his palm. He placed the jewelry in the evidence bag. “I’ll return it to evidence and we better get on the road.”
Ryan put the necklace in the evidence room and escorted Shandra out to his Tahoe.
~*~
Shandra was secretly happy they hadn’t found a jeweler in Hafer
sville that had replaced the blue crystal. She’d get her visit with Phil.
On the drive to Missoula, Ryan restated his worry over her digging up information about her father’s death. But now that she was pushing forward trying to learn the truth, she felt it in her heart that his death wasn’t an accident.
Ryan pulled into the retirement home.
She stepped out of the vehicle. “You’ll know where to find me when you’re finished.”
“If he falls asleep and you want to leave give me a call,” Ryan said.
“You think he’ll fall asleep when he has a visitor?”
“He is an old man.”
Shandra closed the door and waved him off. Now that she stood on the sidewalk in front of the retirement home she was unsure of herself and her questions. Phil had been pretty persuasive the last time she was here that Daddy had been murdered. She’d tried to find out more information on the accident that killed Daddy, but she’d come up against some walls. Namely some of the officials involved in the rodeo that day were gone or mentally incapacitated.
She drew in a deep breath and walked through the doors.
The receptionist smiled. “May I help you?”
“I’m here to see Phil Seeton,” Shandra said, walking up to the desk.
“Oh, he needs a visitor. He’s not doing too well.” The receptionist stood. “Sign in here.”
Shandra signed in and followed the young woman down the hall to the room she’d visited while proving Lil was innocent of killing her lover.
The receptionist knocked on the door. “Mr. Seeton? You have a visitor.” She eased the door open and then nodded. “He’s awake.”
“Thank you.” Shandra entered the room. “Hi Mr. Seeton. Do you remember me? Shandra Higheagle.”
The thin man in a sweatshirt, jeans, big silver buckle and cowboy boots looked up from the magazine he was reading. He smiled, revealing a mouth without teeth in his narrow, sallow face. He yanked the reading glasses from his long nose and waved the magazine at a chair by the desk.
“I sure do remember you. How you doing, girl?”
Shandra pulled the chair closer to his, sat, and grasped his extended hand. “I’m doing well.” She glanced at the magazine. American Cowboy. “I see you’re still keeping up on things.”
“Once a rodeo cowboy, always a rodeo cowboy. You going to the National Finals?” His face lit up saying National Finals.
“No. I’ve not been a fan of rodeo knowing how Daddy died.” It was the truth. She’d shied away from anything to do with rodeo. Her mom didn’t care one way or the other. Adam, her step-father, had been adamant she didn’t need to get caught up in the life. Even though he still raised rodeo rough stock.
“It’s something in the blood. Your daddy sure had it. He loved to ride the horses no one else could ride.” Phil’s eyes dimmed as he reminisced.
“I’ve studied the events enough to know riders didn’t choose their rides, they were drawn. How did they draw the horses back then?” Shandra released Phil’s hand.
He settled back in his chair. “The names of the horses went in one cowboy hat and the names of the cowboys went in the other. The names were drawn one out of the horses, one the cowboys, and then matched together.”
“Who was present during this process?” If she could figure out if Daddy riding that horse was a fluke she’d be satisfied, but her gut told her he’d been matched with a horse known to stomp the riders when they hit the ground for a reason.
“Back then the secretary of that rodeo drew the names while the stock contractor and a judge or association official watched.” Phil went thoughtful for a minute or so. “Can’t say for sure, but I think Adam Malcolm’s family provided the stock for that rodeo.”
Shandra nodded. She’d looked up information on the rodeo Daddy participated in that last time and it was indeed stocked by the Malcolm family. From the comments Phil had made the first time she’d visited him, she had an inkling there was a reason her step-father didn’t want her digging up the death of her father.
A soft knock accompanied by the receptionist’s voice interrupted their conversation.
Chapter Twenty-one
“Mr. Seeton. You have another visitor.”
Ryan strolled into the room. “Good to see you again, Mr. Seeton.” Ryan stepped forward and shook hands.
“You still hanging out with this cop?” Phil asked with a twinkle in his eye.
“Yes. He was my ride this way, so be nice to him.” Shandra stood. “Thank you for all your information.”
“You’re welcome, any time.” Tears glistened in the old man’s eyes.
Shandra bent down and kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
“We have a two-hour drive back and an early start in the morning,” Ryan said, holding the door open.
“I know.” She smiled at Phil. “See you soon.”
Out in the parking lot, Shandra took a long, deep breath. Not only to clear her lungs of the antiseptic air in the retirement home, but to clear her mind of the thoughts that had ricocheted around in her head as she and Phil talked.
“You okay?” Ryan stood beside her unlocking her door on the SUV.
“Yes. Just sorting through what Phil told me.” Her hair caught in the wind and blew across her face. She shove it to the side and climbed into the vehicle. Having her hand fall short of the ends since Tammy took too much off only intensified her vow to never go near a hair salon again.
Once Ryan was in the driver’s seat and starting the car, she asked, “The talk about an early start, you didn’t find a jeweler who worked on the pendant.”
“Not a jeweler in this town has seen the necklace.” He drove out of the parking lot. “Want to get dinner here before heading back to Huckleberry?”
“My burger has worn off.” She smiled at Ryan. He was so thoughtful. “We’re going to get back to Huckleberry late. Do you want to stay at my place tonight? That way you don’t have to drive the extra distance to town tonight and back in the morning.”
He glanced at her and smiled. “That would give me more sleep. If you don’t mind.”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I minded.” She studied him as he navigated through the Missoula traffic. “You know, as much as you’ve been staying at my place you might want to leave some clothes there.”
His head pivoted, and he stared at her. “You know, as much as I stay over already people are talking.”
She put a hand on his arm. “I don’t mind having my name linked with yours. Besides having a cop sleeping in my house is the best kind of security.”
“I’ll only stay with you when I have cases in this area that prevent me from working out of the sheriff’s department.”
“I know. That’s all I want. For now.” She stared out the window wondering at her offer. She was fond of Ryan. And she knew he wouldn’t pressure her to go beyond her comfort level. This day and age she didn’t care what the community thought of her. They were good friends.
The vehicle slowed and Ryan pulled into a restaurant parking lot. He leaned her direction, opened the glove box, and put his gun and badge inside. He locked the compartment and kissed her. “I’m hungry.”
She peered into his eyes. The gleam in them made her wonder if he was talking about food. The thought warmed and scared her. She couldn’t think of a commitment to anyone until she’d come to grips with her own bad choice in men and her father’s death.
Shandra couldn’t shake the information Phil told her. She had an even stronger feeling her father’s death wasn’t an accident.
The door on her side opened. Ryan leaned against the door. “You want to tell me what Phil said that has you in another world right now?”
She shook her head, clearing the thoughts away. “Maybe later. I still need to digest some of the information.”
Ryan knew she was stalling. Something about Shandra’s meeting with the Seeton guy had her deep in thought. It was more
than digesting the information. He escorted her into the restaurant.
If she remained this distracted all weekend, they weren’t going to have a very good time at the wedding.
She studied the menu and he studied her. The guarded aura she’d exuded the first time they met had returned.
The waitress left with their orders. Ryan picked up his iced tea, took a sip, and cleared his throat. “Are you going to be this distracted all weekend?”
Shandra’s forehead wrinkled in a frown. “No. Once I sleep on the information it won’t bother me.” She picked up her cup of tea and sipped.
“I don’t know. You’re even more thoughtful than the last time you visited Seeton.” Ryan needed to know what they said in order to make sure she came to no harm.
“Forget about my visit. You have a case to solve.” Shandra set her cup down. “So far, no jewelry store in the immediate area worked on that pendant. Maybe it is someone who moved to the area recently.”
“I thought of that and had Blane pull all the names of people who moved to Huckleberry in the last year.” The results confirmed his thoughts. “The only people who permanently moved here recently are male. Not a lot of people move to Huckleberry. Most of the transient labor in the winter time are only here for six months.”
“You have no way to find out who the woman is?” Shandra took another sip of tea.
“The techs at forensics place her in her late teens, about five-foot-eight judging from her difference in height to Randal and about a hundred-and-twenty pounds.” A thought came to him.
“How tall are you?” She had to be about the same height as the girl.
“Five-nine. Why?”
“What size shoe do you wear?” Ryan had a feeling he knew who the other boot print belonged to.
“Why, are you planning to buy me a new pair of boots? I happen to have my eye on the Sidewinder by Dan Post.” She smiled sweetly.
“That’s a thought, but no. There were two pairs of boot tracks besides Randal’s at the murder site. One was either a small men’s or a women’s track.”
“I wear a size eight in boots.” She waited until the waitress cleared the plates then leaned closer. “Do you think the girl lured him out there and someone else shot him?”
