Diamond in the Rough (Diamond J #2)

by Lori L. Robinett

  Each of the men grabbed a beer from the refrigerator, except Beau who took the token Coke, then took a seat at their regular spots. Bert dealt the cards. Martha appeared briefly to get a snack from the kitchen, then disappeared. Almost immediately, the sound of her sewing machine drifted down the hall.

  They talked briefly, in bits and pieces, between making their bets and studying their cards. As usual, talk turned to business. Ranching business depended on livestock, and livestock success depended on everything falling into alignment with weather, the market, health and feed fitting together like puzzle pieces.

  The market was always a popular discussion, with everyone complaining that prices were high in the grocery stores, but low when they sold their animals at the sale barn. Weather could make or break a rancher, and it had been horribly dry lately.

  Stump added his two cents. “We need one like that night your new boss lady wrecked her car going out to the Diamond J last year.”

  Bert agreed, and then a dark cloud moved across his features. “We need a soaking rain like that one last summer, the night that my cattle were stolen.” His voice broke, then he continued in a voice thick with emotion, “The night that poor heifer was mutilated.”

  Aidan could feel his blood begin to boil at the memory of that poor animal. “That was horrible. There’s been an awful lot of thefts in the tri-state area for the past year. Any leads?”

  Bert nodded and said, “Actually, yes, but it’s not much of a lead. Ran into the Sheriff at the feed store earlier this week. He said there’s talk the cattle rustlers in the area have connections to organized crime.” He riffled the cards together.

  Beau choked on his Coke and said, “As in the mob?” He cut the deck when Bert tapped it.

  Stump answered, “I’ve always heard that there were low level mobsters in this area, sort of an outlier of the crime families in Kansas City. My sister’s friend in college up at Warrensburg got caught up with that crowd. Somebody approached her while she was down on Pine Street one Saturday night and asked her if she’d be an escort for someone to a party. Offered her a thousand bucks for the night.”

  Aidan let out a low whistle. “That’s not chump change.” He held his hand on the table to catch the cards aimed at him as Bert dealt them.

  Beau asked, “Did she do it?” His jaw muscles clenched and unclenched.

  Stump nodded and continued his story, “At first she thought it was a joke, but a sorority girl friend of hers told her it was the real deal. Sort of like dating a celebrity. So, yeah, she did. Wasn’t going to at first, but heck, for one night? Got to go pick out a fancy dress with a bodyguard type.”

  Bert broke in, “Did she get to keep the dress?” He fanned the cards in his hand and frowned at them.

  Beau snorted. “Good grief, Bert, that’s such a girl thing to ask. Who cares if she got to keep the dress?”

  “That’d be important to a girl, especially a broke college kid.” Bert defended himself. “Ante up.”

  Stump said, “Yeah, she got to keep the dress. My sister said the girl told her it was kind of a fairy tale night, where they went to this big fancy house over on the Kansas side. They had a fancy Italian dinner, with all sorts of pastas and lots of wine flowing. Apparently, she was just supposed to sit beside him and look pretty, and then she went one direction with the other women while the men lit up cigars and went out on the patio.”

  Aidan considered that scenario for a moment, then said, “I bet they were all paid escorts or girlfriends. The mobsters probably left their wives at home while they went to that dinner party to conduct business.” His own father disappeared often, to attend business dinners in Dago Hill.

  Stump said, “That’s what my sister thought, too.”

  Bert asked, “Did she ever do it again?”

  “Nope,” Stump answered. “There was another friend of theirs that ran errands for the mob. One night he left to run a van of stolen goods for them to St. Louis. He never came back. After that, her friend was afraid to get involved, so the next time the guy called and asked her to escort, she told him she couldn’t do it.”

  Aidan asked, “So, was that the end of it? They didn’t push it or anything?”

  “Guess not,” Stump said with a shrug.

  Beau said, “That’d be scary getting involved with the mob. People think it’s glamorous, or think they’ll be different.”

  Bert asked, “What do you mean, different?”

  Beau answered with fire in his voice. “Alive. Dealing with the mob is dangerous, and some of those low level people running stuff for them think they’re invincible. They’re not. You play with fire, you’re gonna get burned.”

  The other three men stopped what they were doing and looked at him, hands forgotten for a moment.

  Bert broke the silence. “Sounds like you’re taking this a little personally. The cattle rustlers will pay, regardless of whether they’re mob or not.”

  Beau laughed uneasily, then scowled at his cards, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  Bert straightened in his chair, eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by that?” Anger sharpened his words.

  Beau glanced around the table. “Nothing. I just mean that I hope whoever it is isn’t involved with the mob. That’s all.”

  Bert’s face turned florid. “To my way of thinking, it’s awful what they’re doing, no matter who is calling the shots.”

  Aidan added, “And there’s no call for mutilating the poor animals.” Anger burned in his belly. He hoped like hell his father wasn’t involved. His dad had been rumored to have mob connections for years, though it had never been proven.

  Stump cleared his throat and said, “That’s what bothered me the most about this deal. Did you hear about that ranch up north of here that was hit?”

  The other three looked at him and waited expectantly. Finally, Bert prompted with an exasperated tone, “So, what happened?”

  “The entire herd was taken, just like Bert’s here was, but there were two calves that were killed. They say that both calves were killed, their heads pointing north. Their eyes were missing and all their organs were removed.”

  The room grew quiet and cold as Stump continued, “And they were each missing an ear. And it happened during the full moon.”

  The grandfather clock in the hallway ticked off the seconds as they considered what Stump had said. Bert was the first to break the silence. “Now that I think about it, my heifer’s head was pointing north too. Think that’s significant?”

  Stump nodded, “I think that means it’s some sort of Satanic cult that’s involved. Wasn’t your herd taken and your heifer killed during the full moon?”

  Bert nodded, but Aidan broke in, “No, there was a crescent moon that night.”

  “It’s all a bunch of bull. Nothing but rumors. Half of it probably isn’t even true.” Beau took a drink of his pop, then added, “And a full moon doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

  Aidan looked at his friend with a frown creasing his forehead. “What do you mean? Those satanic groups always do things during a full moon.”

  “That’s a load of crap. It’s crooks trying to throw the law off their trail.” Beau’s lip pressed into a thin line and his eyes narrowed as he stared a hole through the cards in his hand. After an uncomfortable silence, he growled, “Are we here to play cards or not?”

  The other three glanced at each other uneasily, then all three shrugged. Bert tossed a couple of chips into the center of the table and said, as if nothing had transpired, “OK, Beau, I’ll see your five and raise you five.”

  Beau and Aidan chatted on the way home from the poker game. Aidan was more talkative than usual, his mood buoyed by the small wad of cash in his front pocket.

  Something in the ditch caught his eye, flashes of fur in the light of the headlights. He shouted, “Stop! Stop the truck!”

  Beau stomped on the brake and the truck slid to a stop. Aidan yanked the handle, swung the door open and jumped out. Three large dogs,
two Shepherd mixes and a lab mix jumped around, snarling, darting forward, then retreating. Their jaws snapped ferociously at a small yellow bundle of fur in the ditch. They circled and growled, the fur standing up on their necks. Aidan screamed at the dogs, cursing them.

  There was a general impression of Beau behind him, but Aidan didn’t know where he was or what he was saying. It was as if he had tunnel vision. His whole world narrowed down to those three big dogs attacking the poor tabby cat. The cat yowled, a harsh, hoarse sound that made his skin crawl. He waded into the dogs, swatting them with his hands, kicking with his booted feet.

  The dogs backed away and the cat froze on the ground, its big yellow eyes glowing round as they reflected the glow of the headlights of Beau’s truck. It was terrified, unable to move. Its tail was wet with the dogs’ saliva, bent at an odd angle. A gash along the cat’s left shoulder bled, and the poor animal shook uncontrollably.

  Aidan squatted down and spoke soothingly to the feline, asking her if she was okay. He reached out a hand, palm up, and the cat reacted by hissing and spitting. He spoke softly, trying to assure the cat that the dogs were gone and that he meant her no harm. The cat’s back arched and her ears pinned back against her head as she bared her sharp teeth.

  At that moment, he heard a fierce growl behind him.

  He turned slowly, pivoting on one foot. He knew he was in a very vulnerable position. The two shepherd mixes had returned, only temporarily scared away. They inched forward, fur bristling on their backs, their fangs glowing white in the darkness, and he could imagine the saliva dripping from their mouths, frothing in their killing frenzy. He prayed that the cat would stay behind him, quiet and low. The last thing he needed at that moment was for the cat to cause the dogs to charge.

  He kept his eyes on the two dogs and slowly raised up. He kept his weight forward, on the balls of his feet, ready to move if either of the animals pounced. The cat panted behind him, exhausted after fighting the dogs off. His heart thudded in his chest. The dogs looked even more menacing in the light of the headlights, like something out of a horror movie. An image of Cujo pouncing at the window of the little car flashed through his mind.

  This was not good.

  The larger of the German Shepherd mixes took two quick steps forward and then settled his weight on his haunches, ready to pounce. Just as the dog launched himself toward Aidan, there was a loud pop and a thwump.

  The scrubby tree on the other side of the ditch shivered in the night. The dogs yelped, tucked tail and ran. Aidan blinked in the darkness, stunned. A gunshot? But who shot?

  Beau yelled, “Get down!”

  Aidan dropped to the ground, then cautiously lifted his head and peered into the darkness. He spotted Beau, a dark silhouette in the harsh glare of the headlight. Aidan whispered as loud as he dared, “You okay?”

  “Yeah. You?”

  “Yeah.” He’d hit the ground hard and his ribs ached. “What the hell was that?”

  Heavy footsteps whipped through the tall green grass. A voice boomed through the night. “Get up slow and keep your hands where I can see them.”

  Another voice commanded, “Slowly.”

  Aidan swallowed hard, placed his hands flat on the ground and pushed to his feet. Hands raised, fingers splayed, he slowly turned to see Beau doing the same. His heart thudded in his chest and his mouth was dry. Alone on a deserted country road. There were only two of them, but how many of the other guys?

  The gruff voice softened. “Beau? Aidan?”

  Aidan squinted at the two dark shapes next to Aidan’s truck and slowly lowered his hands. The muscles in his legs bunched, and he fisted his hands, ready to spring if necessary.

  Beau demanded, “Who the fuck are you?”

  “Easy now. Calm down.” The two figures stepped into the light in front of the truck, the taller one holding out a long gun in front of him with one hand. “It’s me, Frank Donovan.”

  The wider man spoke up, “And me, Dave Murray.” The light glinted on the long gun he held at his side.

  “You shot at us!” Aidan’s temper flared. He clenched his fists so tight they hurt. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Beau stepped closer and put a hand on Aidan’s forearm. “Easy,” he whispered. To the men, he said, “What are you doing out here?”

  Frank spoke first. “After my cattle were stolen, some of us decided to start a sort of neighborhood watch program. We been takin’ turns patrolling the pastures around here.”

  “I didn’t shoot at you,” Dave added. His voice sounded defensive. “I shot to scare those dogs off, ‘cause you looked like you was in trouble.”

  Aidan shook his head, his chest still heaving. “We were fine.” He flexed his hands, his fingers aching from being clenched. He peered into the ditch. No sign of the cat. The dogs were long gone.

  “You didn’t look fine,” retorted Dave.

  Beau sucked in a breath with a hiss. “Frank, you’re better than this. You guys can’t go around taking the law into your own hands. Someone’s gonna get hurt.”

  Frank said, “We’ve already been hurt. Those sons-a-bitches took my whole herd. They took my livelihood and I’m gonna be lucky if I don’t lose my farm.” The anger gave his voice a hard edge.

  Beau took a step forward and it was Aidan’s turn to put a steadying hand on his friend’s arm. Aidan spoke loud enough for all to hear. “Let’s all take a deep breath. We’re all feeling tense right now.”

  Beau gave a quick nod. “Frank. Dave. Be careful. Please.” He jerked his arm away from Aidan and strode to the truck. He yanked the door open, got in and slammed it with enough force to shake the vehicle.

  Aidan nodded to the two ranchers. “Y’all be careful now.” He got into the truck and turned to Beau. “Thanks, man. For stopping to get the cat.” His heart still thundered in his chest and adrenaline coursed through his veins.

  Beau gripped the steering wheel. “Anytime, buddy. But the next time you decide to run to the rescue of a friggin’ cat, think about your own safety, will ya?” His voice was sharp.

  It had been a stupid move. Aidan knew that. Hindsight was always 20/20. He still would have saved the cat, but he wouldn’t have taken his eyes off those dogs. He admitted, “I know. Not smart.” Wasn’t smart of Frank and Dave to wander the dark roads armed, either. Vigilante justice wasn’t the answer, though he’d been tempted a time or two himself.

  Beau sighed heavily. “Much as I hate to admit it, if it wasn’t for them two, those dogs would have ripped you to shreds. Then they would have had the cat for dessert.”

  Aidan barked a short laugh. “What about you?”

  Beau’s face split into a wide grin. “I would’ve made it to the truck while they were focused on you and the cat.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Lana

  Lana Sheedy downshifted and applied the brakes, bringing the big semi to a rumbling halt. She waited as two punks in t-shirts and dirty jeans swung open the two gates. She eased the truck forward and glanced in the rearview mirror to make sure she’d cleared the gates. The truck shuddered as she put it in park and pulled the parking brake knob out. The gates clanged shut behind her, loud in the silence of the deep night. When she swung out of the truck, she was greeted by the two young men, muscled and dirty.

  “Howdy, ma’am,” the taller one said. His long, stringy hair hung over his face. He reminded her of a rat, with a pointy nose and dark, beady eyes.

  She nodded at him, then strode down the length of the trailer and rolled the gate up. The first group of cattle trotted out of the truck and down the chute into the processing area. After the last cow left the back section of the trailer, she swung up into the trailer and tramped through, careful not to slip in the fresh manure, then unlatched the gate to release the next group of cows. Like clockwork, they jostled each other and hurried to the chute. It only took minutes for the front section of the trailer to empty.

  The two little pricks watched from the back of the trailer as she
reached in and yanked the aluminum ramp free and pulled it out. After the first cow ventured down the ramp, hooves clattering on the metal, the others followed quickly, some leaping the last few feet before hurrying down the chute. It was mostly a quiet process, with only an occasional mooing to punctuate the echoing sound of hooves on the metal floor. The two stockyard employees kept careful track of the animals as they exited the trailer, each holding a clicker to count the cattle as they entered the holding pen.

  Lana shook her head as the cattle spilled from the trailer. Poor animals had no idea what they were hurrying toward. When the last cow had clambered down from the upper section, she slid the ramp back into place with a grunt. She swung out of the trailer and reached up for the rope to pull the door down. She secured it, then turned and watched shorter kid shut the gate behind the last of the cattle as they disappeared into the depths of the sprawling metal building.

  The shorter kid grabbed a clipboard from the wall and handed it to the taller kid, who peered through his greasy bangs at her. “Name?”

  “Sheedy Family Enterprises.” Lana gave him the name and address to send the check after the sale. His lips moved as he scribbled on the form.

  The kid ripped a ticket off of his clipboard. “Here.”

  “You remember how this works, right?” Lana snatched the checkin ticket from his hand and leaned close. Her top lip curled up in a snarl. “You never seen me or this trailer, right?”

  His black eyes met hers for the briefest of moments, then flicked away. “Never seen nobody.”

  The shorter kid stared away pointedly, and gave no indication of even being aware of her presence. She glanced down at the form to check his description of the animals. He’d jotted a note about the brand. Circle H. She pressed her lips together to keep from grinning. The boys back at the compound had done a hell of a job with the cattle from the Rockin’ H. They’d stripped the ear tags and rebranded every head in a single night.