Darlene Franklin - Dressed for Death 01 - Gunfight at Grace Gulch (5 page)

I tried to make my way out, but everyone surged forward, eager to speak to Suzanne or the director or one of the Wilde sisters. I gladly let my sisters take the spotlight.

Dina’s eyes sparkled, the unpleasantness from lunch long forgotten, and I couldn’t begrudge her high spirits. I realized I hadn’t once thought about Penn’s death or the police’s suspicions since she dragged me on stage. Maybe some good came from her latest stunt after all.

“If you want to escape. . .” Audie said, sotto voce.

I nodded, and he said, “This way.” He led me toward the actors’ entrance at the back. The air felt cool after the hot auditorium, and I shivered. He draped my cape over my shoulders and slipped his arm through mine. We walked the perimeter of the theater. Ahead of us, around the corner, we heard voices. The lighter trill of a female voice placated the deep rumble of male voices raised in anger. It took me a minute to identify them. My heart sank. Ted Reiner and Frances Waller were quizzing Cord.

“Mad cow? My herds are perfectly healthy!” Cord sounded like a petulant schoolboy trying to prove he hadn’t cheated.

“We’ve seen reports that indicate otherwise.”

We stopped moving forward, unwilling eavesdroppers to the conversation.

“If you have any further
questions
,” Cord said in a dismissive voice, “you can talk to my lawyer.” The sound of boots stomping the ground grew fainter.

I started forward. Audie stopped me.

“It’s none of our business.”

I struggled against Audie’s arm. “They’re looking in all the wrong places. I’ve got to talk to them.”

He glanced in the direction of Cord’s retreating form and sighed.

“Wait a minute. . . You don’t think Cord did it, do you?”

“I don’t know what I think.” He dropped his hand from my arm. “Go on. Talk with Reiner. Anyone who can dance the cancan in a bustle and heels can take on the chief.”

We rounded the corner in time to see Frances speaking into her walkie-talkie. Reiner was not in sight.

“Cici. Audie.” Frances seemed surprised to see us.

“We missed you at the concert,” Audie said.

“I had to work.” Frances shrugged. “Crowd control for Land Run Days had already stretched the department thin, and now with the inquiry into a suspicious death—”

“So, then. . .” She had given me the opening I was looking for. “You haven’t ruled out murder?”

“It’s looking more and more like murder,” Frances admitted.

I plunged ahead. “We couldn’t help overhearing your conversation with Cord. Something about mad cow?”

The chief joined Waller on the lawn. “That’s official police business.” No more easy answers—Reiner would not welcome my interference. “I’m glad you’re here, Cici. I need to ask you some questions.”

“Yes?” Maybe I could guess the direction of the inquiry from his questions.

“I understand that your sister Dina had a disagreement with Mr. Hardy shortly before his death. Something to do with an internship?”

“She was turned down for the position. What does that have to do with anything?” My stomach clenched. Two weeks ago, Dina, the tips of her hair dyed flaming orange for fall, had interviewed with Penn Hardy. She told me all about it later, upset when he denied her the much sought after summer job at the
Grace Gulch Herald
.

“Did she or didn’t she threaten Mr. Hardy when he refused to hire her? I believe she said: ‘You’ll be dead before I ever read your newspaper again.’ ” Reiner read the menacing words without emotion. “Is that correct?”

My stomach clenched again, squeezing in pain. “I can’t tell you. I wasn’t there.”

But I knew what Dina had told me. And Reiner had the quote word perfect.

5

July 30, 1891

My dearest Mary,

I fear that I was overly optimistic in my earlier estimate of the available land. I have spent much of the last days exploring the territory. It is true that it is as green as an African jungle. Water abounds. That is the problem. Spring rains bring flooding. The rivers flow in an awkward fashion, first wandering north, then east, and then south, often crisscrossing the same plot of land. Farmers will be at the mercy of the most recent thunderstorm. Doubtless the Indians will keep the already-cleared lands for themselves.

I pray daily that God will show me where He wants me to establish our future home.

Your loving fiancé,

Robert Grace

~

Sunday, September 22

A few minutes later, Audie tucked me into the passenger side of his Focus. I liked the sedan, a welcome change from Cord’s pickup. Low clouds rolled in from the west and dripped water on the windshield like a leaky faucet. I couldn’t stop shivering, and I knew the wet weather wasn’t the only reason. Audie turned on the heater.

“They suspect Dina. And Cord.” I stated the obvious.

“They have to question everybody. It’s nothing personal.”

“But they’re concentrating on Dina and Cord. It’s like they’re digging for a motive why either one of them wanted Penn dead.”

“Did Dina really threaten Penn?” Audie didn’t sound suspicious, only curious. How could he be so blasé about something so important? Of course, Dina wasn’t his sister.

“She may have said something in the heat of the moment. But you know Dina. Overly dramatic, just like her. . .” I stopped myself in time. I needed to tell Audie about my sister, but not right now. “She didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I can imagine.” Audie’s lips twitched in a smile. “Reiner hasn’t learned Oscar Wilde’s secret of life.”

“What is that?” I wondered what Wilde had to say about a police officer.

“Why, ‘the secret of life is to appreciate the pleasure of being terribly, terribly deceived.’ Reiner is blinded by the obvious—Cord shot at Penn, and Dina loaded the gun. He’s not looking any further.”

I gazed out at the flat, gray landscape. The rain washed away whatever joy remained from the concert after the confrontation with the police. I had looked forward to Land Run Days for months, only to have tragedy and suspicion fall on people close to me. What could I do to make things better?

“Are you willing to help Cord? It would mean a lot to me.”

Audie shot a look at me and then returned his focus to the windshield. “What do you have in mind?”

“We could ask Cord about the mad cow rumor. Do you mind if we stop by the Circle G? It’s on the way to Dad’s place.” I regretted the suggestion as soon as I made it. What kind of woman asked her date to go visit another man?

“I guess so.” Audie sounded resigned. He drove past my street and headed out of town in the direction of the ranch. “I’ve heard the term mad cow, but I confess I don’t know all the details.”

If Audie didn’t mind the side trip, then I shouldn’t worry about getting him together with Cord. I gave him a straightforward explanation.

“The scientific name for mad cow is bovine spongiform ence-something. It’s a disease that attacks a cow’s brain. Recently a version of it has transferred to humans. That’s what has everyone scared. So far it’s only been found in Great Britain and a few other places.”

We reached the turnoff for Cord’s ranch. “Are you sure you want to do this? It could be dangerous.”

“Cord, dangerous? Audie, I’ve known the man all my life.”

“Looking into a murder is dangerous.” His blue eyes turned to ice.

I could see Audie was less than thrilled by the idea, but I just had to talk to Cord face-to-face. “If someone doesn’t look for the truth, an innocent person will be accused. Like my sister.”

Audie grimaced, but turned his Focus onto the gravel road. It was designed for pickups, not passenger cars. Wet gravel spit up under his tires and pinged the front windshield. I wondered what Cord would say about the rumors. He did some business with a British cooperative last year, but I was sure he’d had all the animals screened.

A few feet up the road, we encountered the familiar sight of a solid
G
filling a circle atop a sturdy steel gate. We had reached the entrance to the Circle G Ranch.

“Pretty fancy,” Audie said.

“They earned it. The Circle G has been known for quality beef since early days.”

“How much farther is the ranch house?” Audie asked after a quarter of a mile.

“A few more turns in the road. The Graces bought up land when other families moved out during the Dust Bowl. It’s a big spread.” We passed a few horses near a feeding trough. They kept their noses down and seemed oblivious to the rain.

“I don’t know a thing about ranching. Or horses. Or cows.” Audie looked at the mares. “I feel like a kid driving out in the country who points to every passing animal. ‘Look, Mom, horsey.’”

“That’s okay,” I said. “There’s more to life than farm animals and crops. Like beauty and art.”

“Perhaps.” Now we were passing cows huddled together in a pasture. “But this is so much more. . .I don’t know, elemental.”

A figure on horseback approached the cows. Cord atop Smoky. He spotted the car and made hand motions, indicating that he would meet us at the ranch house. We rounded a final bend and came upon the sprawling building.

Audie scanned the area that was so familiar to me. As well-known as my own home. Pioneer Bob Grace had built a sturdy house with an open veranda out of native stone; and generations had added to it since.

Cord must have taken a shortcut, because he arrived right after we did. I saw him on the other side of the corral. Smoky’s haunches bunched, and he jumped the fence in front of us. Cord slid off the horse in one fluid motion. He motioned for Audie to roll down the window.

“Go ahead in. It’s not locked,” he said. When he tipped his hat, rain poured from the spout of his waterproof brim. “I’ll take care of Smoky.”

Show-off.
Audie’s shoulders slumped, as if considering his own lack of ranch skills. Cord and I competed in junior rodeos as kids, and we both won our share of gleaming belt buckles. I had packed mine away with my childhood toys. Cord’s still lined the mantelpiece above his fireplace, along with his medals for marksmanship.

Audie removed his jacket and handed it to me. “I can’t offer to carry you over the mud.” He grinned. “But you can hold my jacket over your head to protect that pretty hair and fancy hat.”

Did Audie really think my dandelion hair was pretty, frizzed as it must be in this weather? We made a dash for it, rain plastering Audie’s pristine white shirt to his well-muscled chest. The few yards to Cord’s front porch felt like miles. I kicked off my shoes and left them on the porch, unwilling to track mud into his living room.

We opened the door, and I flicked on the light by the door lintel. Since his mother’s death, Cord had remodeled the interior of his home into a hunting lodge. Mounted heads of half a dozen different animals roared from the walls. A large bear rug warmed the floor, and I knew—from Cord’s endless bragging on the subject—that the furniture was made with genuine bison leather. “Best thing for the buffalo,” he insisted. “If we domesticate them and raise them for commercial use, they’ll never suffer extinction.” He had a point, but I found the atmosphere forbidding. So did Audie, who looked as out of place as the Connecticut Yankee at King Arthur’s court.

“Did he kill all those animals?” Audie asked. He studied the placard beneath the head of an eight-point stag. “First kill.”

I nodded. “He bragged about that deer for weeks. He was only thirteen at the time.”

I hurried into the kitchen, where the gentle spirit of Cord’s mother still made itself felt in warm yellow curtains and stoneware mugs. I lit a fire under the kettle and headed for the pantry in search of teabags and coffee.

Audie followed me in. “You seem familiar with the place.”

“I should.” I frowned. “I’ve been in and out of here since I was a kid.” I found the coffee, Cord’s favorite, a dark French roast, and started the coffee maker.

“Not much choice of tea,” I said. “Orange pekoe. Some herbal teas that look like they’re years old. There is some hot cocoa mix if you want it.”

“I’ll wait for the coffee.” Audie picked out a plain blue mug and held it between his hands.

“I see you made yourself at home.” Cord came in through the back door and hung his wet things on a peg like he had when we were children.

I opened the cookie jar, a pottery cow that Cord had given his mother one Christmas, and found what I expected. Chocolate chip cookies that Cord made from frozen dough he bought at the store.

Cord poured himself a cup of coffee. “Sit down. To what do I owe the honor of your company today?” His eyes darted in Audie’s direction.

What should I say?

Audie surprised me by taking the lead.“We overheard part of your conversation with Reiner today.”

“Oh, which part was that? When he practically accused me of shooting Penn on purpose? Or when he said my cattle had mad cow disease?” Cord grimaced. “Stupid man. I can’t believe he asked me in public like that. Just the hint of mad cow could ruin me. Rumors like that spread like a grass fire.”

“But they’re healthy?” What if the rumors were true? My family’s ranch shared a boundary with the Circle G. How did it spread?
Silly girl.
I stopped myself from chasing tumbleweed thoughts.

“Of course they are.” Cord looked hurt at the slight suggestion of my suspicion. He bit off half a cookie, chewed it, and then swallowed. “Look, this is what happened. You know that I traded breeding bulls with a cooperative in Britain a couple of years back. Penn found out that some cattle in the district where the cooperative is located came down with mad cow. He said that my herds might have contracted the disease.” Cord shook his head.

“Did he blackmail you? What did he want?”

“Nothing as blatant as money. Penn said that if I bought more advertising in the
Herald
, maybe he could dig a little deeper and disprove his facts. Otherwise he would run the report he had.”

I was horrified. Did Penn really sell the news to the highest bidder? ”What did you do?”

“I told that dirty newshound what he could do with his rumors.” Cord grunted. “Let me show you something.” He disappeared through the living room door in the direction of his office.

“Well. It sounds like Penn was not quite the ‘icon’ that Mitch called him this afternoon.”

Audie poured himself a cup of coffee. “We might as well follow him.” He walked back into the living room.

Trailing behind, I didn’t know what to say. I thought back over a lifetime of news events. Penn couldn’t slant national or international news, not with twenty-four hour a day news networks. But what about local news? I shook my head. Grace Gulch’s grapevine worked too well for any reporter to tell an outright lie.

Cord stomped into the room and slapped some pages on the table. “Take a look. This is what I showed that nosey reporter.”

I looked at the letterhead from the Oklahoma Department of Agriculture.

“I’m not irresponsible,” Cord complained, as if someone had accused him of that very thing. “My business associates in Britain warned me as soon as the problem cropped up over there. I had my vet check my herds and sent a report to the state Board of Agriculture.”

I scanned the document. It was dated a year ago and gave the Circle G herds a clean bill of health.

“No one is going to spread lies about me and get away with it.” Cord slapped the desk with such force, I jumped. For a second he looked like the kind of man who could commit murder.

Audie looked as shocked as I felt.

“Sorry, bad choice of words.” Cord took a swallow of coffee and groaned. “I told Penn that he could print his lies if he wanted to, but I’d slap him with a libel suit before the ink dried on the printing press. He backed down when he saw the report.”

“Why didn’t you tell Reiner about this when he asked you?” Audie frowned at the report, eyebrows bent in concentration.

“I didn’t want to talk about mad cow where everybody could hear us, did I?” Cord downed the rest of his coffee. “I’ll take the report to the police station tomorrow.”

“No wonder you put such feeling into the reenactment.” Audie grinned. “The feud has been reborn.”

“It did feel good to beat Penn in that race.” Cord relaxed a bit. “But I didn’t kill him. Reiner’s going about this all wrong. I couldn’t have shot Penn, not the way it went down, even if I wanted to.”

A small voice inside me spoke up. He had a gun. I didn’t believe he shot Penn, did I? I had to admit that he had the opportunity. Unless someone else substituted real bullets for the blanks, and that brought suspicion back to Dina. There had to be another answer.

“I’ve been thinking about it.” Cord shook his head, a few damp curls sprinkling water in the air. “To be honest, I haven’t done much else since yesterday. I went riding to clear my head.” He shivered.