Rodeo ranch, p.8
Rodeo Ranch, page 8
part #4 of Broken Spur Series
She drove along slowly until Jack pointed and said, “Turn in here.”
“That wasn’t far. Does your ranch back onto the one you own with your brothers?”
“Uh huh. This was Mr. Spinner’s two thousand acres and he gave it to me in his will.”
“Wow. He must have liked you a lot, Jack. I didn’t realize you and Mr. Spinner were so close. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“He did like me, and I liked him too. We used to have talks about stuff. We’d sit on the porch and smoke and drink beer sometimes—sometimes we drank sweet tea that he made himself. Strong stuff with not enough sugar, but I drank it anyway.” Jack chuckled. “Most times we drank Petron and root beer. That was his favorite.”
“I understand why you’re so upset.” Lauren turned off the engine and got out.
“I have a lot of work to do. Mr. Spinner hadn’t done much in the way of maintenance for a long time. I started making a list and it’s long.”
“Uh huh.” Lauren stood in front of the porch steps and glanced around. “It’s a homey old place though. It has a lot of character and could be charming.”
“Could you live here, Lauren?” Jack wrapped his arms around her and held her close to him. His heart pounded whenever he was near her.
“I could live anywhere with the right man, Jack. It’s a little too soon to tell, but I think we’re off to a good start.”
Jack took her hand and headed towards the corral. “I want to show you my horses.”
“Walk slowly, Jack. Nice and slow.”
They strolled past the barn to the corral and Jack leaned on the fence. “Mr. Spinner used to come out here and feed the horses every morning and he counted them every single day to make sure they were all here.”
“How many are there?”
“Forty one.”
“I’m going to count them,” said Lauren.
Jack laughed. “They won’t stand still for you.”
CLAY set his guitar down when he finished the last note of the new song he’d written. It needed work on some of the words, but he’d spend more time on it later. Bonnie Sue was supposed to drive out to the ranch to spend the afternoon and she hadn’t shown up.
Clay retrieved his cell phone from the kitchen table and called her. “Are you coming out to the ranch?”
“Sorry, Clay. With Ivan fired and Jack off until tomorrow, I was on call and I have to work.”
“Meet us at the Spur when you’re finished. I think we’re going there for supper.”
“Sure. I’ll do that, and I should have called. We had a traffic accident and I’m just getting back to the shop. Sorry. I didn’t mean to mess up our plans.”
“Not your fault if you had to work. I’ll see you later.”
Why didn’t she call me?
Broken Spur Roadhouse.
THE roadhouse was only half full on a Sunday night and most of the customers were people out for dinner. Not too many partiers and drinkers. Miss Jane was famous for her Sunday dinner special and it was too good to miss.
She hugged us as we came in the door and teared up when she looked at Jack. “How’s your head, sweetheart? I’d kill that Dean Morton myself if Bonnie Sue hadn’t already done it for me. I have to thank her the next time I see her.”
Clay smiled. “She’ll be here soon and you can thank her when she comes in.”
“What if she hadn’t been there?” A tear trickled down Miss Jane’s cheek. “I can’t bear to think about it.”
Jack grinned. “I’m glad she was there, Miss Jane. If she wasn’t, I wouldn’t be standing here right now dying for a pitcher of beer.”
“Go sit down, Jack, and I’ll send Ricki right over.”
CHAPTER NINE
Monday, October 5th.
Sheriff’s Office. Preston.
JACK couldn’t remember when he’d been so happy to get to work. Being laid up with a bashed in head wasn’t where he wanted to be. “Morning, Mrs. Graham.”
She smiled at him. “Morning, Jack. How’s your head this morning?”
“Lots better thanks. I’m almost good as new.”
“I was worried, Jack. You getting clocked like that. You’re our best deputy and if you were gone, who knows what would happen.” She tilted her head in the direction of Sheriff Tucker’s office. “Get my meaning?”
Jack grinned. “Yep. I get it. Too bad about Ivan.”
Mrs. Graham shook her head. “Not before time, Jacky. Ivan was a bit of a dumb ass, sad to say. Couldn’t find his hat in a hurricane, I’m afraid. Still, it’s awfully quiet without him. I’ll miss his non-stop chatter. That boy never shut up or took time out for a decent breath.”
“I’d better check in with the sheriff and let him know I’m here.” Jack strolled down the hall to the one private office and stuck his head in. “I’m here, Sheriff. I’d like to start on tracking down Bobby Paisley. Got any ideas how we should proceed?”
“His house is being run by the lab people. Go on out there and see if they’ve come up with anything. That’s about all I can suggest. I feel bad for you, Jack. You had the fucker cuffed and everything. It’s a damned shame. That’s what it is.”
McKenna Ranch.
SECOND week of training and this week we were concentrating on tie-down. The six boys had done well on steer roping and this event was a little different, but it didn’t hurt for them to be proficient in more than one event.
They arrived at the ranch early and anxious to get started. That was what the young kids were all about—enthusiasm. Some of that wore off when you’d been at it as long as I had.
Taylor Watts hopped out of his truck and I could tell right away by his body language that he was feeling a little down. Had his father been on his case over the weekend? Encouragement was one thing, and I was all for it, but a kid could only do as much as he could do and no more. Pushing him and yelling at him was no good. In my opinion, it only had the opposite effect.
I walked over and smiled at him. “Hey, Taylor, you feeing okay?”
“Yep, I’m good. Keen to start the tie-down.”
“Good. Because I think we’re going to have a lot of fun today.”
“I want to have some fun,” said Taylor. “My weekend wasn’t much fun.”
“Oh, why not?” I asked, but I thought I already knew.
“My Dad wants me to be a rodeo star, and I want that too, but it takes work. I can’t do it overnight no matter how much he yells at me.”
“He shouldn’t be yelling at you at all, Taylor. You’re doing your best and he has no reason to yell at you. Would you like me to speak to him?”
Taylor shook his head. “Then I’d be in more trouble, Logan.”
“He doesn’t ever hit you, does he Taylor?”
“Not too often.”
“Okay. Make sure you tell me when he does. I don’t think it’s necessary to get physical with you. You’re a good boy and you’re trying your best.”
“Thanks, Logan. I love it here at the ranch. Sometimes I don’t want to go home at night.”
I gave him a fist bump. “Hey, let’s get saddled up and have some fun today.”
Clint had Bowie saddled for me and as soon as the boys were ready we headed for the one field where the calves were running loose. This would be a fun experience for the boys if I had any say in it. I wasn’t happy hearing Mr. Watts had hit Taylor—even one time.
Nope. Not happy.
Paisley Ranch.
JACK parked his squad behind the forensic van at the Paisley spread and slowly got out of the car. He was better, but far from a hundred percent. Slow and easy was the order of the day. His head still hurt although the pain was a little duller, and Lauren had been worried about him driving alone in case he had more dizzy spells. Nope. He was not completely better by a long shot and he had promised Lauren to drop by the hospital and have the stitches checked. He’d do that at lunch when he got back to town.
He entered the ranch house through the front door and watched the activity of the techs for a few minutes before he said anything. “Any hints on where Paisley might be hiding out?”
One of the techs shook his head. “Sorry, man. Nothing here worth looking at. Not yet, anyway. Hope we find something that can help y’all.”
“Yeah, I hope you do too. Mind if I borrow a pair of gloves and have a look around?”
“Sure. Go ahead. The bedrooms have been checked. The lady that lives here—Paisley’s mother—went to her sister’s house until we were finished. She was upset about the warrant and she swears up and down her son would never kill anybody.”
“Uh huh,” said Jack. He wandered through the whole house and never saw anything that would give him a clue. He thanked the crew and headed for the barn.
Jack systematically worked his way through the barn trying not to miss anything important and he wondered who was feeding the animals. The pigs were snorting and rooting around in their pen and they seemed hungry—not that Jack knew the first thing about pigs. Maybe a neighbor was doing Paisley’s chores while he hid from the law.
Jack walked past the spot where he was almost killed and a splotch of his dried blood was still visible in the manure where he’d ended up. He had no memory of Dean Morton hitting him. His only souvenirs were the headache and the stitches.
After a thorough search of the lower level of the barn, he climbed the ladder to the loft and began looking around. One side of the loft was stacked with hay bales and the other with straw for bedding. Nothing unusual about that.
Standing back and looking at the loft from the ladder, he noticed a space between some of the straw bales—like a narrow pathway. A path to where?
Jack followed the narrow walkway to the back of the straw pile. He moved a couple of bales and a mouse ran out startling him. Jack jumped, knocked a stack of bales over and his boot kicked something metal. He shuffled the bales out of the way and found a metal lockbox underneath. He pulled the latex gloves he’d borrowed out of his back pocket and put them on before picking up the box.
Happy he’d found something possibly useful, Jack carried the box down the ladder and across the lane to the house. “I found this in the barn loft,” he said to one of the techs. “Think you can open it up?”
“Sure thing.” The tech pulled a tool out of his kit and snapped off the cheap little lock. He opened the lid and lifted out the wallet. The tech removed Jessup Spinner’s driver’s license and social security card. Nothing else was in the wallet.
“There’s solid evidence,” said Jack. “The DA is going to like that.”
The tech smiled. “Sure is.”
“Thanks for your help,” said Jack. “Should I leave that with y’all or take it to Sheriff Tucker?”
“We’ll catalogue it in with all the other evidence. You can trust us, Deputy McKenna.”
Jack was fuming mad as he walked to the squad car. Not at the techs, but at Ivan. Positive evidence that Bobby Paisley had killed Mr. Spinner and Ivan had let him get away. “Hope I don’t see Ivan any time soon,” Jack mumbled. “He’s good for two black eyes.”
Jack sat behind the wheel of the squad, started the engine and tried to think of a place Bobby Paisley would go to hide. Doyle Hutton was out on bail. Would he know where Paisley was? Would he tell him if he did know?
Hutton Ranch.
JACK knocked on Doyle Hutton’s door figuring he was wasting his time, but he didn’t know where else to turn for information. He was at a dead end.
Doyle opened the door slowly, his dark hair hanging in his face and it was obvious he hadn’t shaved for several days. “Jack, why you here?” His speech was a little slurred. Maybe he was still drunk from the night before.
“I’m wondering if you’d have any idea where Bobby Paisley might be? This is a chance for you to make up for a lot of shit you got yourself into.”
Doyle stepped out onto the porch, sat down on the top step and lit up a smoke. “I know you don’t believe me, Jack, but all the trouble I got into was because of Harper.”
“That I do believe, Doyle. She was bad news when she worked for us. She was bad news for you and so is her whole family.”
“But I loved her, see… I loved her like a crazy man and it messed me up.”
Jack nodded. “I hear what you’re saying, Doyle. Women can do that to you sometimes if you’re not careful.”
“Careful? Hell, I wasn’t careful, Jack. I was insane over her. I loved her so much, I believed everything she told me.” Doyle sounded like he might break down and cry. “I’m not over her being dead, Jack. I miss her every single day from morning ‘til night. Maybe I never will be over her.”
Harper Gabriel was a bad subject for Doyle Hutton.
“Can you think of any friends Paisley might run to if he was hiding out?”
“Never saw him hang with anybody but that little weasel, Dean Morton. A couple of times Ronnie Palmer was at Bobby’s place when I was there. Palmer was fixing Bobby’s tractor. I don’t know if they were friends or not or if Bobby just needed a bad mechanic.”
“Thanks, Doyle. I’ll try Ronnie. If you hear anything at all, call me. You don’t want to be mixed up in a murder.”
“No, I sure don’t. I’ve got enough problems dealing with the charges against me now. Never been in trouble with the law—not ever—until Harper came into my life.” He managed a little smile. “Don’t know whether it was worth it or not. Hard for me to sort out right now.”
“It would be,” said Jack. “I’m sorry for your loss, Doyle. I can see how bad you’re hurting.”
Doyle nodded, then looked thoughtful. “Guess it wouldn’t hurt to ask Kate or Laney where Paisley might go. He used to hang with Micky and his bunch when he had a Harley.”
“Bobby Paisley had a Harley?”
“Uh huh. I think it’s still in his driving shed. Saw it there once. He got beat up a few times and after that he stopped hanging around with that rough crowd.”
“Thanks, Doyle. Good information.”
Preston Hospital.
JACK stopped at the first nurses’ station he came to, gave his name and asked for Doctor Hillier. “She’s supposed to check my stitches at noon.”
“I’ll call her for you, Deputy McKenna. Wait in room three, just down the corridor.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Jack sat down in the little examination room and waited for Lauren to come. She wasn’t more than five minutes and came through the door wearing a big smile.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t forget, Jack.” She closed the door and kissed him. A hot steamy kiss. She sat on his knee, leaned her body into him and gave him her tongue.
“Ohh”… Jack moaned. “I wish this was a hotel room.”
“You’re getting better, Jack. I can tell you have more energy.”
“Energy isn’t the only thing I’ve got.”
Lauren stood up and straightened her lab coat. “I’d better do my job. I have other patients waiting.”
Jack grinned. “You’d better stop fooling around and check my stitches.”
Lauren giggled.
McKenna Ranch.
THE boys and I broke for lunch and Taylor was in a much better mood. Sweat and hard work will make you forget about a lot of your problems. It always worked for me.
We sat down under a tree in the shade and the boys opened up the lunches they’d brought from home. Most of them had a can of soda or a couple bottles of water with them too.
“Hey, guys, now that we started the tie-down you can tell me which you like better.”
“I can’t say yet,” said Will Holmes. “I loved every minute of last week and I liked this morning a lot too. Can you love both events?”
“Sure, you can. Some cowboys try everything and get pretty good at them all. Those are the boys that make it to all-around cowboy.”
“That would take a lot of work,” said Lenny Brennan. “Hours of practice in each event.”
“Yep. Sure would.”
“How old were you when you started, Logan?”
“Umm… I went in a lot of the high school rodeos when I was young, so I must have been fourteen or fifteen.”
“That’s where I started too,” said Taylor. “At school.”
“It’s a good age to start,” I said. “You’ve got lots of time to work on your skills.”
“Did you ever want to be a bull rider like your Daddy?” asked Glen Gregory. “I thought I might want to try that later.”
“No, I guess I grew up listening to enough of Daddy’s stories about broken bones that I never wanted to do it too badly.” I chuckled. “We have three of the best rodeo bulls ever on our ranch. Bulls that were never ridden. Thor, Presto and Crusher.”
“Wow, can we see them?” asked Frankie Banks.
“Sure. While we’re on our break we can walk down the back lane and have a look at them if y’all want to. They don’t look super scary standing in a field of cows munching grass.”
Sheriff’s Office. Preston.
JACK stopped at Bonnie Sue’s desk long enough to bring her up to date on what he’d found at the Paisley ranch.
“He hid Mr. Spinner’s wallet in the hay loft?” Bonnie Sue’s dark eyes were wide. “That’s good solid evidence, Jack. Sheriff Tucker will be happy about that.”
“What will I be happy about?” The sheriff wandered into the front office with a mug of coffee in his hand. “I’m not happy about a damned thing right now. I hate doing interviews.”
Jack told him about the wallet and the sheriff shook his hand. “Fantastic work, Jacky. DA Pace will go nuts over that. He loves solid evidence he can hold in his hand and wave at the jury.”
“The forensic team will deliver it to him,” said Jack. “Did you hire us a new guy?”
“Yeah, on probation, Jacky. He’ll be here tomorrow morning and he can ride with you. He was the best of the bunch that applied, but I have my doubts.”
Jack wasn’t too encouraged by the look on Sheriff Tucker’s face, so he moved on. “I’m gonna press Kate and Laney for friends of Paisley’s. Doyle Hutton thought he hung a bit with Ronnie Palmer so I’m headed to the garage in Broken Spur, but first I’m gonna brace those nasty girls.”
