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Authors: Vickie Britton

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At the cemetery, people continued to pour from a long line of cars. Kate descended the grassy slope, made her
zigzagging
way through the vast crowd, and stood alone close to the tent by the new grave.

Grief-stricken friends and neighbours waited near the hearse for the removal of the casket. On their faces Kate read varied emotions: disbelief, apprehension, anger. Sadness seeped over her. She hadn’t met Charles Kingsley, yet it was easy to conclude that he was greatly honoured, respected – yes – even loved by the community.

A heavy-set woman standing near Kate kept whispering to her friend. ‘That’s the wife. Didn’t know what to think when I heard he married so quickly. Do you know her?’

‘They say she’s from Casper.’

Both women studied Jennie critically.

‘She’s certainly not what I expected.’

The large woman beside Kate whispered again, ‘Still it seems a shame. She’ll just step in and take over. Poor little Mary Ellen.’

Kate could see Jennie Kingsley from the open door of the limousine, huddled in the back seat crying. She shook her head when they wanted to help her. She probably would have stayed there, had not Hal Barkley strode forward, bent and extended his hand to her. His raspy voice sounded loud in the surrounding quietness. ‘You have to be brave, Jennie. It will soon be over.’

Jennie allowed him to assist her from the vehicle. She leaned heavily on his arm as they made their slow way to the funeral tent. As Jennie passed Kate, she stopped. ‘Thanks for being here, Kate,’ she said tearfully, ‘you’re so very kind.’ Hal Barkley, looking uncomfortable in his dark, ill-fitting suit, served as one of the pallbearers. Kate recognized several of the others too, as hands at the Rocking C. Some of them she
had quizzed about Kingsley’s death. She watched as they carried the casket to its final place.

‘There’s Mary Ellen now,’ the woman near Kate whispered again. ‘Poor child. Just look at her. She’s taking this so very hard.’

The Reverend moved forward and stood at the head of the coffin. He looked toward Mary Ellen and waited, Bible in hand.

Mary Ellen’s demeanor, as if she were just holding on by a mere thread, caused the crowd to drift back to let her pass. No one attempted to offer consolation. Kate started toward her, but a tall, dignified man of about thirty reached her first.

He took her arm and guided her forward in a slow,
compassionate
way. His straight, sandy hair was knotted back with a tie, and he wore a brown Western-style suit that made Kate think of Bill Cody.

‘That’s her boss,’ the old woman whispered, ‘that nice Jake Pierson from the museum.’

‘I hear he’s a bachelor. Wouldn’t it be something if…?’

‘That’s not going to happen. That girl will never marry anyone.’

Jake Pierson, after Mary Ellen was seated, leaned over and gave her a gentlemanly kiss on the cheek, then stepped back into the crowd.

During this interval, Hal Barkley waited impatiently. When his gaze lifted to the grass-covered rise behind them, Kate noted with alarm that his features suddenly changed, becoming hard and angry. ‘What’s he doing here?’

Swen stood far away from the crowd. He clutched a grey Stetson in his hands, one that matched the colour of his expensive, tailored suit.

Barkley, glaring at Kate, boomed, ‘I want you to get him away from us! He’s here just to cause trouble.’

‘I can’t ask him to leave,’ Kate replied softly. ‘He’s not doing anything illegal.’

Kingsley’s foreman bristled. ‘If you won’t, then I will!’

‘Leave him alone, Hal,’ Jennie said. She rose and laid a restraining hand, one that glittered in the sunlight with diamonds, on Barkley’s arm.

Barkley remained a moment, feet planted apart staring toward Swen, then smouldering, he escorted Jennie back to her seat. He took up post on the other side of the casket so he could keep watch on Swen. Kate felt increased
apprehension
from the fact that whenever she looked up, she faced Hal Barkley directly.

The Reverend, neat and small of stature, nevertheless had a voice with the ring of William Jennings Bryan. Kate, deep in her own thoughts, didn’t listen at first not until his words rose theatrically. ‘He should be with us now, reaping the good that he sowed, for Charles Allan Kingsley was a good and faithful man. We cannot gather here as if our beloved friend died peacefully of common causes, for he did not.’ He paused, his stillness leaving only the sound of flapping of the tent. ‘Whoever committed this wicked act is my enemy, is your enemy, is the enemy of every decent man and woman.’

Kate could not avoid shifting her gaze from the preacher to Hal Barkley. He looked rough with his grizzled beard and
stood rigidly straight. Kate had never before in her life seen anyone look so vengeful.

‘But, my dear friends, no sin is covered that shall not be revealed.’

Hal Barkley’s eyes, dark and hostile, shifted from Swen and clashed with Kate’s. To her disconcertion, she felt totally unable to look away.

‘I have comfort for you, my friends,’ the Reverend said. ‘Romans 12:19. I know it’s true, because it’s written. Here.’ He held up the Bible, his words exploding into the stillness, ‘Vengeance is mine: I will repay, saith the Lord.’

Kate half-expected the sky overhead to darken, to hear the clack of thunder. She, as well as Hal Barkley, cringed.

‘Charles Allan Kingsley, we commend your spirit, not to the grave, for the spirit does not die, but to life eternal!’

After the graveside service ended, people milled around. Mary Ellen, pale and stricken, warding off all expressions of sympathy, started away. Once more she was met and escorted by the kindly museum curator.

The crowd quickly thinned, but Swen remained where he had been throughout the service. Kate, heading towards the squad car, veered off her path to stand beside him.

‘Vengeance is mine,’ Swen said wryly, staring straight ahead at the casket. ‘He should have told that to Kingsley.’

Kate made no reply.

Swen spoke again, his tone low and level. ‘I owe him more than I owe any friend I’ve ever had,’ he said.

Side by side they watched the breeze ripple the tent, stir the flag that the Legion had placed beside the coffin. Kate
did not look at Swen, but at the grave, thinking of Kingsley, bullet holes in his chest, dead on the floor of his study.

‘He was my motivation.’ Swen’s voice lowered, but remained steady and even. ‘The power that drove my success. I spent a lifetime trying to outdo that scoundrel, to be better and bigger than Charles Kingsley.’ Swen cast Kate a quick, sideways glance, lined face tight and grim as if in deep grief. ‘Strange as it is, I’m going to miss him.’

K
ate hung up the phone in Ben’s office that had been constantly ringing. Range fires, accidents, domestic violence: everyone wanted access to the Belle County Sheriff. She couldn’t keep up, couldn’t begin to take care of
everything
and do justice to the Kingsley case, too.

Kate rose and poured herself a cup of strong coffee. As she took a deep drink, she felt a tight pain in her chest. No wonder Ben was laid up in the hospital. The pressures of the job were transferring themselves from him to her. She rested her
forehead
against her hand a moment and closed her eyes.

‘Tired?’ Jeff asked as he entered the room.

‘Too much work, not enough time. It’s overwhelming.’

‘Quit catching the ball,’ Jeff suggested with a grin, ‘and they’ll stop throwing it to you.’

Sometimes she even liked his quips, even liked him. She smiled. ‘Follow your own advice.’

‘I might just as well drop the ball for all the credit I get. I can’t get over the way you blamed me, thinking I botched the job of contacting Jennie Kingsley. But I swear, if that woman
was travelling on the Casper road before or after Kingsley was shot, I would have found her.’

‘Not even you can do the impossible,’ Kate reminded him. ‘If you’ll remember, Jennie was driving a borrowed car.’ Kate paused. ‘I can’t help thinking she might have changed more than her car, she may have changed truth to fiction. She may have been right here in Rock Creek at the time Kingsley was shot.’

‘Changing truth to fiction, I like that. Did you get that line out of some fancy police-training book?’ Jeff flopped down on the chair across from her and propped his booted foot against the desk. ‘Face it, the guilty parties are Swen and Garrison. They gunned Kingsley down and put that stone under his head. A gentle soul like Jennie Kingsley would never think of doing something like that.’

‘I’m not saying she’s either guilty or innocent. I’m just stating that she gained more by his death than anyone else. That’s why I’m going to drive to Casper and do some checking on her.’

‘That’s a long way, four hours there, four hours back. Have you ever heard of telephones?’

‘If I don’t go in person,’ Kate replied, ‘I’ll miss out on all the unspoken testimony.’

‘Unspoken testimony – doesn’t sound like anything that’s going to hold up in court.’

‘I would like you to go with me. But if you don’t want to, I’ll ask Lem.’

‘I’ll go,’ Jeff answered in the same smug way, ‘if you’ll let me drive.’

Nothing new about that. Jeff always wanted to be in the driver’s seat. But today Kate, too weary from the long hours she’d been putting in, didn’t mind. As they set out for Casper, Jeff kept up a steady stream of talk.

‘For the record, you’re wasting your time,’ he was declaring. ‘Jennie Kingsley’s as nice a person as you’d ever meet.’

‘Or else you’ve been taken in, too,’ Kate replied. ‘She’s got looks, she’s got charm. Add brains to that combination, and what you’ve got is power. Power to manipulate blind-sided men like you.’

‘So how would I know?’ Jeff grinned, casting her a
sideways
glance. ‘No one’s ever even tried to victimize me.’

‘Wouldn’t be worthwhile. Not on a sheriff’s salary.’

‘What are your plans for today, Kate?’

‘I’m looking for a witness who will place Jennie in Casper between eight and midnight and eliminate her as a suspect. I need to clear some other questions up, too. Kingsley had just left Casper Monday afternoon. Why was Jennie in such a hurry to see him again? So much so, that she borrows a car from her friend and gets right on the road?’

When Jeff didn’t reply, Kate continued, ‘It’s a four-hour drive from Casper to Rock Creek. If she left before eight in the evening, she could be at the Rocking C before midnight.’

‘Right.’

‘That would give her ample time to have shot her new husband and even to have returned to Casper and back.’

‘If she’s just playing the part of a grieving widow, I want to nominate her for an Oscar.’

Kate paid no attention to his comment. ‘Have you noticed how … physical she is?’

Jeff grinned again. ‘Have I ever.’

‘That’s not what I mean. I mean Jennie is entirely capable of slamming that pick-up into my squad car, ditching it, and striking out to Kingsley’s ranch on foot.’

‘I won’t deny that.’

‘Jennie knows she is suspect number one, and she also knows that Kingsley and Swen hated one another. It makes sense that she might try to implicate Swen by using his truck as well as by placing that stone under her husband’s head.’

The road had become straight and barren, an endless stretch of slate-coloured land. A herd of white-tailed
antelope
grazed beyond a snow fence. Kate was now enough of a Wyomingite not to mistake them for deer. Jeff turned at a battered sign.

‘Muddy Gap. Halfway there.’

‘Bet it’s not more than a gas station. It’s hard to get used to these miles and miles of nothing.’

Jeff glanced at her, smiling that slow smile of his. ‘A good kind of nothing. No crowds, no hassle. Just a lot of wide, open spaces.’

They passed a single oil rig busy at work, looking like a giant, mechanical monster. ‘Encroaching civilization,’ Jeff said.

The road became steeper, the gentle hills rising to higher peaks as they approached Casper. Before them she saw a sprawling city, small by her standards, even though it was
the second largest in Wyoming. ‘You call this a city?’ she asked. ‘You could fit all of Casper into one of Detroit’s suburbs.’

‘Guess it depends on where you’re coming from, Prep,’ Jeff replied. ‘I grew up on a ranch just outside of Rock Creek. Casper’s the big city to me. Even has a mall.’ He turned on to a main street. ‘What do you say we talk to her neighbours first?’

Kate drew out her notes. ‘Turn here. Poison Spider Road.’

‘Say, that’s a clue,’ Jeff teased. ‘Where else would a Black Widow live? Just think, this place could be teeming with women who marry men for their money and kill them.’

As Jeff cast her a quick look to judge her reaction, Kate tightened her lips in pretended disgust. ‘Ann Lectie, the woman Jennie borrowed the car from, lives on this street, too. The apartment complex where Jennie stays is just a block or two north.’

The building consisted of long, neat rows of houses behind a high brick-fence. ‘You take the east side, I’ll take the west.’

No one Kate interviewed had seen Jennie at all on Monday. At the end apartment, a woman of about eighty answered the door, eager to talk.

‘A little white sports car was parked in Jennie’s space,’ she said. ‘I remember that. I saw it when I went to bed, and it was there when I got up.’

‘Do you recall the particular times?’

‘At, let’s see, nine o’clock, that’s when I went to bed, and again at seven, that’s when I got up. But the next time I looked out, it was gone, about eight, I’d say.’

‘Did you see Jennie? Or were any lights on in her apartment?’

‘No, I didn’t see her. And I’m afraid I didn’t notice whether or not there were any lights on.’

Kate jotted down the woman’s name, her apartment and phone number. What she had found out actually meant very little, only that the borrowed car had been in Casper at the time Charles Kingsley was shot.

She shared the information with Jeff. ‘What did you find out?’

‘Zero. Let’s see what Ann Lectie has to say.’

They parked in front of a small, yellow house more
rundown
than the others in the neighbourhood. An attractive, petite woman with reddish-brown hair answered the door.

‘This is my day off. You’re lucky to find me home,’ she said, inviting them into a room, neat but slightly shabby, as if she had trouble making ends meet.

‘Have a seat,’ she said, indicating the worn, flowered sofa and matching loveseat. ‘May I offer you some coffee?’

‘No, thanks.’ Jeff eased his long form down on the couch and sat, one leg extended. ‘We’re here to ask a few questions about your friend, Jennie Irwin. Jennie Kingsley now,’ he corrected. ‘Mrs Kingsley says she borrowed your white Ford Mustang last Monday.’

The mention of Jennie caused a change in her, a
nervousness
Kate hadn’t noticed before.

‘Jennie came over to my place about four that afternoon. She said she had been trying to contact Charles, but he didn’t answer his cellphone. She told me she was getting worried.
Her Buick was in the garage, so she asked to borrow my car. She wanted to head out to Rock Creek. She had a feeling something was wrong. And I guess she was right.’

Ann Lectie directed all of her conversation to Jeff, gazing at him in a wide-eyed sort of way. The woman’s full attention caused Kate to look at Jeff, too. It wasn’t often that she noticed that he was a very good-looking man.

‘Did she go into any details,’ Jeff was asking, ‘about what she thought might be wrong?’

‘Of course she believed he had had an accident on the road.’

‘Why do you say “of course”?’

‘That’s how Jennie lost her first husband. He died in a car crash between here and Buffalo. You know, one where the driver goes to sleep and runs off the road. Charles’ health problems increased her anxiety. Jennie kept saying she should never have let him start out alone.’

‘But he hadn’t been gone all that long.’

‘I couldn’t blame Jennie for being concerned. She just dearly loved that man. When they weren’t together, they were always on the phone.’

‘Do you know what time she left for Rock Creek?’

‘I thought she was leaving from here, right away, but I guess she didn’t. In fact, I know she didn’t. I drove the van down to the grocery store about six, and I saw her pass by in my car.’

‘Was she alone?’ Kate asked.

‘As a matter of fact, she wasn’t. Some man was in the passenger seat.’

‘Did you see him?’ Jeff asked. ‘Did you recognize him?’

‘It gets dark so early now,’ Ann said. ‘Really all I got was a glimpse of his grey hair. It was kind of a shiny colour.’

Kate thought of Sam Swen, the way his hair sometimes glistened like silver. She broke in, ‘You’ve been a good friend of Jennie’s for some time. Maybe you can tell us more about her. Was she dating someone before she met Mr Kingsley?’

Ann’s gaze still held to Jeff. ‘Jennie’s very sociable. She’s always seen friends, although never anything serious. But, wait, there was one man she talked about a lot. He always took her out to dinner whenever he came to Casper.’

‘Can you give us a description of him?’ Kate asked. ‘Do you remember his name?’

‘I never met him. He had a funny name. Didn’t sound like a first name to me. Breen or something like that.’

‘Swen?’ Jeff supplied.

‘That’s it.’

‘Then you don’t have any idea what time she actually left Casper?’ Kate asked.

‘I figured she was on her way the minute she left my place. I cautioned her not to drive alone at night. I believe she followed my advice and decided to wait until morning.’

Jeff stood up and handed her one of his cards. ‘Thanks for talking to us, Ms Lectie. If you think of anything else of importance, please call me.’

‘What’s this about? I don’t understand why you’re asking me all those questions.’

‘We’re trying to establish an alibi for her, that’s all. Very routine.’

Ann Lectie remained watching from the doorway. Kate glanced back, thinking she looked forlorn and uncertain as if she regretted something she had told them.

This time Kate teased Jeff, ‘Ann liked you. I think you could have got a date.’

‘Not me. I won’t go out with anyone who lives on Poison Spider Road.’

They headed back toward the downtown area, turning on to a tree-filled street nestled in a semi-residential area. Kate spotted the place where Jennie worked first. ‘Over there. Talbart’s Insurance.’

A distinguished-looking man with an ever-present smile rose from behind a huge desk when they entered. Kate noticed that he had thick, grey hair and wondered if this had been the man Ann had seen in Jennie’s car.

He held out his hand to both of them in turn. ‘John Talbart.’

‘We’d like to have a few words with you about your
ex-employee
, Jennie Irwin,’ Kate said. ‘Now Jennie Kingsley.’

‘Certainly. I heard about Mr Kingsley’s death. Poor Jennie. I must say I was shocked by the news. Robbers everywhere. What’s gone wrong with our society anyway?’

He gestured to empty chairs and sank down at his desk beside a large photograph of himself, a plain-looking woman much younger than him, and two small children. He saw Kate looking at the picture, and said proudly, ‘That’s my wife and family.’

‘How long has Jennie Irwin – Kingsley I mean – worked for you?’ Jeff asked.

‘Going on five years. Jennie’s the best help I’ve ever had. I sometimes think people came in here just to talk to her. I haven’t replaced her yet, not that I’ll ever be able to. So now I’m my own secretary.’

‘When did you see her last?’ Kate asked.

‘Let me think.’ Talbart steepled his fingers together in a thoughtful pose. ‘I’ve been so busy everything runs together. She quit on a Thursday. She had given me notice a week before that, though, but said she would keep on working until I found someone else. I told her, “Don’t worry about me. I’ll get by”.’

‘Did you know Mr Kingsley well?’

‘Not really. She introduced him to me, that’s all.’

‘Have you ever heard her mention or have you ever met a man named Sam Swen?’ Jeff asked.

‘I can’t say that I have. But then I meet a lot of people.’

They continued questioning him, but he remained vague and evasive, as if well-schooled by long years of dodging issues. After learning nothing more of help, they rose to leave. At the door, Kate asked, ‘Did you see Jennie Kingsley at six o’clock on Monday evening?’

‘Monday evening,’ Talbart repeated, then said quickly, ‘No, as I said, she quit working for me the Thursday before that.’

‘I don’t trust that one,’ Jeff said on the way out of Casper. ‘He’s too smooth, too guarded. Never answers any question he doesn’t want to.’ Jeff pulled into a little truck stop. ‘Let’s get a bite to eat before we head back.’

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