Alberta Alibi (5 page)

Her dad raced after her, and the two horses galloped side by side, noses even, until gradually Pita pulled into the lead. But the brown horse stopped suddenly on a low rise. Sheila reined in Silver and followed her father's gaze. Below them, near a copse of lodgepole pine on the far side of a barbed wire fence, were two large portable buildings. A backhoe, bull dozer and SUV were lined up between the portables. Not far away was a huge pile of rocks. Sheila recognized the stream that ran through the compound but could not remember the large, round pond where the stream had been dammed by boulders.

“What's that mess?” she asked in dismay.

Her father was no longer smiling. “The development,” he growled.

“But where did it come from? Isn't that the Arnesens' land?”

“It was. They sold ten acres to Glenmar Development a year ago, when Mrs. Arnesen was sick. They needed the money to hire a full-time aide for her.”

“But that's not fair!”

“I'm guessing the watchman was shot from somewhere along here.” Her dad walked Pita along the low hillside. “Whoever did it would have a perfect view.”

“But how would they get here without crossing our land?”

“There's a road from the highway to the development, and a gate down below. But the thing is, anyone who came that way would have to drive right past the night watchman.”

“So whoever it was probably came from the other direction, from our place?”

Her dad nodded. “Seems that way.”

They rode in silence for a few minutes. It was strange how, as soon as she slowed down, all her worries caught up with her. Her father stopped again. “There's Wendell's place,” he said.

Sheila followed her father's gaze to a stand of aspens. On the slope above the stream, on the Walton side of the barbed wire fence, was a brown camper van, almost hidden among the trees.

“Who's Wendell? It looks like he lives there!”

“Wendell Wedman is an old fellow who first showed up about this time last year, down near Swan Pond. Seems he just drove through the gate one day when it was left open and set up camp. He's an interesting old character, and I didn't mind him camping there as long as he didn't cause any trouble. A few days ago I noticed he was back, so I suggested he move to this spot. It's nicer here, especially since our pond dried up. From here he can keep a watch on things for me. Let's go see if he's home.”

Sheila followed her dad, wondering about the pond and the pair of trumpeter swans that raised a family there every summer.

Her dad dismounted. “Wendell!” he called. There was no answer. He knocked on the door and waited, but there was no sign of Wendell Wedman.

“I thought the stream was bigger than that,” Sheila said, looking down the slope. “What happened?”

“Glenmar Development happened,” her dad said bitterly. “They're diverting water for irrigation. They want it for their golf course.”

“Golf course? But what about the swans?”

Dad shook his head sadly. “The pond is no more than a bog now.”

A big sun glowed orange over the distant mountains as Sheila and her dad rode back into the yard. They were surprised to see Katie and Rusty, each seated on an old brown horse, walking around the corral under Huntley's watchful eye. Katie looked like she was enjoying herself. Rusty clung to the saddle horn as if convinced the horse was about to leap the fence and run through the field with him holding on for dear life.

7

A
fter saying he had tons of paperwork to do, Sheila's dad locked himself in his office. Sheila and the others hurried upstairs to a small bedroom at the front of the house, where Rusty and Huntley would sleep. A dormer window overlooking the yard and barn was only a black square now.

Huntley slid a CD into his laptop computer. “Okay, let's see what we can find out.”

“Why did you copy it anyway?” Rusty asked.

“No reason.” Huntley clicked on the e-mail icon.

“Aw, c'mon. You don't just sit down and copy e-mails for no reason, especially when you weren't even supposed to be in the office.”

“I just thought there might be something from Mom. You know, something important?”

“You mean something to do with the case?” Katie asked.

“What
case
?” Huntley glanced up as if she had lost her mind.

“See, you've gotta understand about Katie,” Rusty explained. “Every time something unusual happens, she thinks it's some big
case
for her to solve. She thinks she's the Great Detective.”

“Whatever.” Huntley stared at the screen. He tapped a few keys. “Here it is!”

Hi Chris:

Well, here I am in the big city again. I'd forgotten how noisy and congested Calgary is! Already the traffic is driving me crazy, and I just got here this afternoon! I can't imagine how I lived in Toronto for so long. But I know for sure I could never move back there after returning to the country. What was I thinking?

I have to admit though, I miss my job as a journalist. No matter. When all of this is settled, I'm going to make more time for my freelance writing.

Thanks again for letting Huntley stay with you. I know he'll be a huge help. I can't believe how well he has adapted to ranch life in just over a year. It must be in his blood, he's a real cowboy now!

I meet with the lawyer tomorrow, wish me luck.

Chris, I'm counting on you to keep an eye on Glenmar Development for me. Last night I dreamt that I came home and they had bulldozed the old homestead to put up a big, ugly clubhouse! Talk about a “While You Were Out!” nightmare!

It's so important to win this battle, I'm really grateful you're here to help. And Mother Nature thanks you too. Think of the grizzlies!

Love,

Adele

For a half second Sheila wondered what grizzly bears had to do with Glenmar Development, but then she focused on those last two words, “Love, Adele,” and felt like kicking someone. Huntley for starters.

“There's a reply,” Huntley said. He clicked to open another e-mail.

Don't worry about anything here at home. I've got everything under control. And, as I mentioned, I've come up with a surefire way of keeping Glenmar off your land, at least for the time being.

We'll talk about it when you get back. Meanwhile, good luck with the lawyer. I'll be thinking of you tomorrow.

I'm off now, onto the range. There are some things I need to take care of. I told Huntley I'd be gone for a few hours. If there's anything he needs, Ben Brown isn't far away. I also told Ben where I'd be, so I expect he'll come up to the house and watch tv. He sure does love my big screen! Anyway, don't worry about Huntley. He's in good hands here and a pleasure to have around.

Must go,

Chris

Sheila glared at the back of Huntley's head. So he was a
pleasure
was he? Isn't that just too precious for words? Obviously
she
wasn't a
pleasure
to have around or her dad might invite her to visit once in a while. “What gives you the right to snoop in other people's e-mails?” she asked crossly.

Huntley looked up in surprise, she sounded so angry. Katie and Rusty both stared at her too.

Her cheeks burned. “I mean, you must have read them earlier or you wouldn't have known they were there. Is that why my dad doesn't want you in his office, because he can't trust you?”

Huntley stared down at his hands. “Kind of,” he admitted, “but it's not like you think!”

“You don't know what I think!”

“Okay, then, here's what happened. Before Mom went to Calgary, she and Chris kept talking, you know, about stuff, but they'd stop when I came into the room. I knew something was up, but they wouldn't tell me anything. I don't even know why Mom needs to see a lawyer.

“So, anyway, this morning I got up early and checked my e-mails, but there wasn't one from Mom, even though she promised to send one. Then I came downstairs and Chris wasn't even up yet, which is weird because he's always up way early.

“Anyway, the office door was open so I went in. I guess I sort of clicked on his e-mail and saw there was one from Mom last night. That's when Chris came in, before I even had a chance to read it. He was bursting mad and told me to stay out of his office.”

“So why did you copy the e-mails to CD this afternoon?” Katie asked.

“I just…I want to know what's going on. I figured if the police come back and take his computer—like they do on TV—I'd never know what those e-mails said.”

“Oh, and I thought you were trying to help!” Sheila said. “But you were just being nosy! Like Katie!”

Sheila felt all jittery inside. She was so angry she couldn't be nice to anyone right now. Huge questions gnawed into her brain. Where did her dad go late last night? And what was his “surefire” way of stopping Glenmar Development? A terrible, sick feeling lurked deep in her stomach, and right now she needed desperately to be alone. She needed time to think. Sheila turned and walked quietly out of the room.

Before she reached her own room, at the back of the house, she heard Katie ask, “I wonder what happened to the rifle.”

She closed the door behind her. It felt weird to be in this bedroom again. It hadn't changed much. She and Katie brought some of their stuff in earlier, but this was the first time she had been in here alone. She didn't switch on the light, but stood looking around the room, lit only by soft moonlight that filtered through the window.

Her bed still had the same bedspread, blue with horses galloping all over it. A small bedside table held a lamp and plain white shade, not the frilly one her mother wanted to buy. Her bookcase was strangely empty, except for a couple of cowboy books that belonged to Huntley. She could see them lying there now, and even though she could not see their front covers clearly, she glowered at them. Huntley had been using her room until she arrived. How dare her father give her room to that boy?

She walked over to the tall, rectangular window that looked out toward the foothills. A round moon hung high in the southern sky and lit up a ragged line of snow on the mountain peaks to the west. A shiver ran through her.

Her dad would never hurt anyone, she knew that. But the questions wouldn't leave her alone.
Where
was the rifle? What was Dad's surefire plan? Where
did he go late last night?

8

W
hen Sheila opened her eyes the next morning, weak sunlight was just beginning to creep through her window. She hadn't slept much during the night; too many worries made her toss and turn. For hours she lay awake, wishing her room weren't so hot and stuffy, wishing she knew how to help her dad.

Sheila turned her pillow over, squeezed her eyes shut and tried to go back to sleep. She tried to stop thinking, but the worries wouldn't go away, so she tried to form a plan instead. Maybe she should call Mom and ask for help. But Mom would tell her to stay out of it. Or worse. She might insist Sheila come home. No, she wouldn't phone Mom, not yet at least.

Katie would be eager to help, Sheila knew that.

And Katie was good at stuff like that, at finding clues and figuring out who the bad guys were. Trouble was, Katie didn't know when to quit, even if it meant she got herself into a ton of trouble. Now Sheila couldn't decide whether to ask Katie for help or tell her to mind her own business.

Dad couldn't possibly be guilty. Could he? She had not seen much of him in the past two years and, as her mom always said, “People change.” Had her dad changed? Was he capable of hurting someone to get what he wanted?