Fall of night, p.19
Fall of Night, page 19
“You mean Tyrone ‘King’ Fischer? The drug lord?” Rich laughed as he handed her the paper. “No. It’s not possible, Lou. Sorry. It’s just not. Rice is a businessman.”
“Not the good kind.”
“You don’t know that.
“Yes,” she said. “I do. And I know it’s hard to hear because Gabby was your friend, but—”
“She wasn’t—”
“She was your fiancée at one point, but that doesn’t mean it’s not true. There’s been something worrying me about this whole thing from the beginning. I couldn’t figure out what but it’s starting to come together.”
“I…. I don’t think so. I mean, I met Gabby’s father. A couple of times, actually.”
“And?”
“He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to be messed up in drug running.” Rich laughed. “Gabby’s mother is a socialite; her father does charity work. They throw parties with senators. God! This whole cabin and the one next door could fit in their apartment.” He flipped the towel over his neck and smiled down at Lou. “You’re making something out of nothing.”
“I’m not.”
“But—”
“What was Mr. Rice’s business?” she asked.
“He was a businessman.”
“What kind of business?”
Rich shifted from foot to foot. The bathroom, warm minutes earlier, was now icy cold. “He…” Rich’s brows shot up as he remembered a dinner years before. “He’s involved in real estate! Handles a lot of land titles for other people and he has connections.”
“Connections?”
“Yeah. He helped me get things set up for my lease. It was taking forever, but as soon as Mr. Rice stepped in, his connections…” Rich’s hands rose involuntarily as the truth finally hit him. “Shit.”
“It’s true,” Lou said. “I’ve felt like there was something more happening from the beginning. And now we know what it is.” She tossed the newspaper with its soaked edges into the garbage bin. “You need to be careful Rich. There’s something bad coming.”
He pulled Lou into his arms, burrowing his face into her hair.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said. “We’re together, you and me. Everything is going to work out.”
“Someone came after me last night. That’s not okay.”
“I—I know. I’m just saying, we’ve got each other.”
“Yes, we do.” Her hands rose to his back and she took a shuddering breath. “But you need to be careful, Rich. Okay? You need to watch yourself, because if Gabrielle’s father is connected to Dax, then—”
A loud knocking from the front door interrupted.
Lou turned. “Who in the world could that be?”
***
Days started early at the Durnerin ranch. Shawna and her two younger brothers were up two hours before dawn, the three of them in charge of the endless chores that were day-to-day life on a working ranch. By six they’d eaten breakfast with their father and the ranch-hands who worked in the crew. On weekdays, the younger boys were at school, but today they mucked out the barn, leaving Shawna to deal with the cattle. She loaded the mixer wagon and brought it to the pens, then loaded several bales of hay onto the back of her pick-up, heading out where the herd was pastured.
Her eyes narrowed as she drove along the bumpy gravel road. There’d been a time she wanted to escape the daily grind. No longer. With her mother gone, there weren’t enough hands to do all the chores, and with Dawson and Jackson still in high school, that wasn’t going to change… at least for the time being.
No. Right now, Shawna’s focus was keeping them all afloat. She’d worry about her ‘dreams’ later.
The Durnerin ranch had survived for five long generations. The only ranch that had existed in the borderland of the Rocky Mountains longer than theirs was the Thompson place next door. Shawna had no intentions of letting it end with her. But that meant planning. Hard work. Days like today that started at five, and didn’t end until nightfall.
Two men on horseback appeared on a nearby trail and Shawna slowed the truck, giving them time to cross the road. The American hunters, she thought, irritated. But she smiled and waved all the same. Those men and women who came to hunt were part of why the Durnerins had survived. Even with a full herd and no major costs, there were years that the ledger hit the red. Add to that the expense of sick cattle, and the inevitable losses from grizzlies, cougars, and the occasional poacher, and you always had your toes on the line. No matter the difficulty, ranching was in Shawna’s blood. She’d ridden almost before she’d walked and during her school days, she’d spent her time in the 4-H club. Today as she headed to the pasture she felt that same surge of joy.
This land is ours.
Mid-morning sunshine had warmed the grassland and cattle moved toward the truck, calling out. She put the truck in park, then pushed the door open with a squeal. Further out the cows milled uneasily. Shawn frowned. October was Grizzly season. Though attacks were relatively rare, they happened.
Nervous, Shawna climbed into the back of the truck and tossed down the first few bales. The herd moved forward, but they didn’t come in a straight line. Knots of them circled nervously away from an outcrop of trees near the border between the Durnerin ranch and Waterton park.
“What’s out there?” she muttered. Shawna tossed the last bale out of the truck, then stepped up onto the roof of the cab. She squinted toward the treeline. There, just inside the shadows of the trees, a shape huddled. It was smaller than a cow, which meant they’d just lost a calf.
Shawna gritted her teeth. “Goddamnit!”
She climbed back down and headed to the cab of the truck, pulling the rifle case out from under the seat and loading two shells into the barrel. She tossed a handful of shells into her coat pocket and walked toward the trees. The cows moved with bovine patience, stepping past her. Shawna kept her eyes on the shape, watching and ready.
“Should’ve brought a dog,” she muttered.
As she neared the treeline, her steps slowed. She paused, breathing hard, her body reacting before her mind really understood what she was seeing. She lifted the rifle with shaking hands, put the sight to her eye. A man’s body lay before her. His neck had been slashed from ear to ear and the congealed blood was black where it spread across his neck and shoulders like a cloak.
Shawna stumbled backwards, adrenaline flooding her limbs.
“Oh my God!”
The body wasn’t a calf, but a man, and not just any man… It was someone she knew.
Tears flooded Shawna’s eyes as she turned and stumbled back to the truck. She grabbed the CB radio and dialed in the number with shaking fingers.
“10-4,” a voice responded. “This is Durnerin ranch, who—”
“Dad! You’ve got to call the police.” Shawna took a shuddering breath, her gaze moving back to the trees and the lump that, even now, the cattle avoided.
“Shawna? What’s going—?”
“It’s Ben Grayden! He’s dead!”
Chapter twelve
Jordan had been waiting for Sadie to speak ever since the call had come into the station. She hadn’t yet. Her gaze was fixed on the horizon as they drove the back roads west of Twin Butte, heading into the curve of the mountain’s shoulder where the Durnerin ranch was found.
A dusty haze rose off the road, sifting in through the ventilation system and coating the car’s interior with a fine layer of grit. Jordan took a breath and choked. They needed rain, but the last precipitation had been the week that Gabrielle Rice had died. Now they had another body to deal with. Found, yet again, just inside the confines of Waterton Park, in their jurisdiction.
Only this time, it was Ben.
Jordan took another surreptitious look at Sadie. Her eyes were red, either from the dust or from trying not to cry. The fingers that wrapped the wheel were white-knuckled, a line of muscle in her jaw flicking like the tail of an angry cat.
“What?!” she snapped.
Jordan blinked. “Sorry?”
“You’re staring at me. What do you want?”
“I just—” He dropped his eyes. “This is Ben. I can’t wrap my head around that.”
“Well you’d better fucking try,” she said, “’cause we’re going to be at the crime scene in a couple minutes.” Her mouth tightened, and she added. “Sorry. I… I shouldn’t swear. I’m just tired of having the killer two steps ahead of us.”
“You think it’s the same guy?”
Her gaze jumped from the road to him and back again.
“Don’t you?”
“I… I don’t know yet. Could be a copycat.”
“Guess so. Seems a bit too close: Ben Grayden’s body being found just a few kilometres from Gabrielle Rice’s.”
“You think it might have been one of the hunters we spoke to?” He paused for a second too long. “Or Bryce Calhoun. Thompson ranch is just over the hill.”
“Everyone’s a suspect at this point.”
Sadie tapped the brakes. Up ahead, a truck appeared, the back half-full of square bales of hay, a police cruiser marked ‘Pincher Creek RCMP’ sitting next to it. Several dozen head of cattle milled around the two vehicles.
“The hunters had access,” she said. “The body was found at the ranch they’re staying at, but… I don’t see the connection to them yet.”
“We should watch ourselves then,” Jordan said quietly. “Jim didn’t see the connection to Susan and look where that got him.”
Sadie’s cheeks paled.
“Sorry, Sadie. I shouldn’t have said—”
“Yes, you should have,” she said, slowing as they reached the truck. “You’re right about Jim.”
“But—”
“It’s the goddamned truth. No use pretending it isn’t.” She popped the cruiser into park. “Now let’s get started, Jordan.”
Without another word, the two officers stepped out of the car.
***
Lou tiptoed down the stairs. Upstairs she could hear Rich opening and closing drawers in the bedroom, things being moved around as he rushed to dress. Lou paused halfway down the stairs and peered through the triangular cut-out that led to the living room and the rarely-used front door of the house. Visitors almost always came in through the back. The appearance of someone at the other door threw her.
A man waited, his shoulder visible through the window. Lou frowned uncertainly. There was something familiar to his stance, but what? The man reached out and the doorbell rang a second time.
“Almost done!” Rich called. “I’ll be right down.”
Lou jogged the last few stairs to the main floor. For a moment she could remember the night that Hunter’s dog had arrived on their step, frightening Rich. Her nerves this morning had the same unsettled feel. She heard the bedroom door open and Rich start down the stairs.
The bell rang a third time.
Forcing a smile, Louise pulled the door open. A middle-aged man with graying hair and a dark jacket stood on the other side.
“Yes?” Lou said.
“Oh, hello,” the man said, smiling warmly. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but do you have a minute to talk?”
Rich came up behind her. “Talk about what?”
“About Miss Gabrielle Rice,” the man said. He flashed a license of some kind at Lou—far too fast for her to read—then tucked it back into his pocket. “I’m investigating her death.”
“I thought the police were doing that,” Lou said.
“They are,” the man said. “But I’ve been hired by the family.”
“Gabby’s family?”
“Yes, exactly.” The man extended his hand and grinned. “You’re Rich Evans, I take it?”
Lou frowned. She wanted to catch the thread of the stranger’s emotions, but every time she reached out her thoughts, they slipped away like water.
“I am,” Rich said. “I’ve got to be honest. I’m a little confused about why you’re investigating.”
The man chuckled. “Can I come in a moment? It’d be easier to explain.”
Rich opened his mouth to answer, but Lou interrupted.
“I’m sorry,” she lied, “but the house is a mess. I’d rather we just talked here.”
The investigator peered over her shoulder into the tidy interior, then back at her.
“Are you sure we couldn’t just—?”
“No,” she said. “Thanks for understanding. It’s good to meet you, Mr…?”
“I’m Tom, Tom Farrel,” he said, extending his open hand. “And you are—?”
The moment their palms touched, Lou’s body went cold. Words disappeared. Even the front steps and the vast mountains that rose on either side of the lake faded into half-light. There was a rush of icy cold. She couldn’t breathe! Lou let go and took a shuddering breath.
Tom stared at her.
“Lou,” Rich prompted. “Mr. Farrel asked your name.”
“Louise Newman,” she said, then crossed her arms. Her hand ached like it had been soaked in ice water.
“Good to meet you.” Tom turned back to Rich. “So as I was saying: Miss Rice’s father asked me to come assist the police in any way that I could. I’m not part of their investigation, but I’m sharing anything I find with them.”
“And have you found anything?”
Tom’s smile froze for a split-second, like a movie caught in a loop, then released. “Nothing solid,” he said. “Just bits and pieces of gossip. It seems Gabrielle was in Waterton for a couple weeks before her death.”
“I thought she was still in New York,” Rich said. “Why did she come to Alberta?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Tom said. “But she did.” He looked back at Lou. “Did you happen to meet Miss Rice during her visit?”
Lou shook her head. “No.”
“Did she ever come into the Garage where you work?” he asked.
“Not that I recall.”
“She was a very beautiful young woman.” Tom held out a photograph of Gabrielle. “You certain you don’t remember her?”
“No, I don’t,” Lou said. “But I mainly work in the back of the garage in the shop. I don’t see everyone who comes through.”
“Ah, yes, I should have known,” Tom said. “You’re a mechanic. I’d forgotten that.” He chuckled. “I’ve been checking around, you see.”
Rich shot Lou a concerned look. “Checking on what?”
“On the people in the town. I’ve been trying to get things settled, figure out where things fit.”
Lou put a shaking hand against the door. “Well, I’m sorry we can’t help you but—”
“Please! Just a minute longer,” Tom pleaded. “I’d like to get a list of what you were up to when Miss Rice was in town.”
“With all due respect,” Rich said. “You’re not part of the police force. We don’t have to tell you any—”
“I’m not asking about you,” Tom said. “You were in New York at the time of Miss Rice’s death, isn’t that right?” Tom smiled at Lou. “Now, you were in Waterton the entire time. Right? You were working late nights, staying in the shop…”
Lou’s irritation grew as his words droned on. She pushed it aside, catching onto the thread of escaping calm. She didn’t often sway events. She didn’t like to. But sometimes it was the most expedient way.
“…and people in town saw Brandon Miles in the front of the shop the day Gabrielle Rice disappeared, but not you,” Tom said. “You could have been anywhere at all, Louise.”
With Herculean effort, Lou forced calm to settle around her like a cloak. She smiled at him intently. We are done, she thought. And YOU are going to leave. Tom opened his mouth to take a breath and Lou interrupted. “We’re finished this conversation,” she said, forcing obedience into her words, gentleness in the soothing tone. “I’m not going to talk to you anymore. You’re not going to come back here either.”
Tom blinked, and Lou started to close the door, but he caught it before it closed.
“I’m sorry, Miss Newman, but I’m not done,” he said stiffly. “You never answered my question.”
Lou frowned. “We are done,” she said again, forcing the words deeper, threads of them looping around him. “Although you want to continue, we can’t. It reminds me of a story I once heard.”
“What story?” Rich murmured.
“A story about a man on a voyage from far across the sea,” she said. “When it came time to leave—”
“I don’t care about your story,” Tom said. “And you’re not going to change my decision on this.” He stepped closer, and Lou’s breath caught. She could see he was angry. Waves of it rose like heat off pavement. “I want to know what you were doing the day Gabrielle Rice disappeared. I’ve been trying to figure it out for a week!”
“I—I don’t—” Lou struggled to form the words. She’d never met anyone immune to her nudging. Even Alistair could be swayed. “I was probably at home—”
“Lies! You weren’t anywhere near this house!”
The shout roused Rich from his reverie and he stepped between them.
“You will lower your voice or I’ll—”
“Or what?!” Tom said. “You’re already caught up in this! You’re in it deep. Have you told Louise you weren’t in New York when Gabrielle died?”
“We are done,” Rich snapped. “I’ve been totally honest with the police and—”
“I don’t give a shit about the police! You do not want to fuck around with Mr. Rice. He wants answers!”
“But I didn’t do anything to Gabby!” Rich said. “We were friends! For YEARS we only—”
“I’ve seen the hotel footage!” Tom said. “You think you can lie about what happ—”
“The police know all about the hotel!” Rich yelled. “I TOLD them!”
