“I changed my mind,” Tori said, causing Will to wonder if she’d changed plans because he would have known she was with Middleton.
“How’s Sky?” he asked.
“Mending,” Beau said. “But he’s not happy about being out of action when he’s needed here. I did have some news for him. You’ll be interested, too.” He’d brought a folded newspaper inside. Laying it on the coffee table, he opened it to the regional news page.
“Right here. I bought a paper in the hospital gift shop and just happened to see this.” He pointed to a brief article accompanied by a grainy news photo. The headline read, WOMAN WANTED FOR ARMED ROBBERY.
Will scanned the short paragraph that began, The robber of a Wichita Falls pharmacy has been identified as Marie Fletcher, shown in the above surveillance photo. Anyone knowing this woman’s whereabouts . . .
Will studied the blurred photo. The long-legged figure shown at the pharmacy counter was wearing a hooded sweatshirt and a baseball cap. But she’d happened to glance up at the wrong moment. The camera had caught the long, sharp face, the fierce dark eyes, and the white slash of a scar from temple to chin. It was Marie, all right.
“So Sky’s cousin is up to her old tricks,” Will muttered, handing the paper back to Beau. “Looks like she might’ve been a little careless this time. You say you showed this to Sky?”
“I did. Sky said he’d washed his hands of her. Can’t say I blame him after the woman shot Jasper, likely murdered her own brother, and damn near killed Lauren. I just hope she ends up behind bars, where she belongs.”
“Even with all that, I can’t help feeling sorry for her,” Natalie said. “What chance did she have, growing up in that horrible family, and then having her ex-husband slash her face?”
“Sky grew up in the same family, and he’s got his own scars,” Beau said. “Everybody has choices. Marie made hers.”
“Hey, I smell something good!” Erin dashed toward the kitchen doorway, where Bernice had just appeared. “Is it brownies?”
“It is, honey,” Bernice said. “I just took a batch out of the oven and iced them. I can already hear Jasper at the back door. He’s got a nose like an old coyote! Who else is hungry?”
“Me!” Erin bounded into the kitchen.
“Me too,” Beau said. “But I’ll have to grab one and eat on the run. I’ve got to get back to work.”
“Count me in,” Natalie said, laughing. “After all, I’m eating for two! How about you, Tori?”
“Sure. I . . . didn’t eat much lunch.” She moved toward the kitchen, paused, then turned back. “Will? Are you coming?”
Will hesitated, then shook his head and turned away. One more memory of the family gathered around the kitchen table, talking and laughing, would be enough to break him. In his mind he was already distancing himself from the things he loved—the things that, days from now, if the trial went badly, would no longer be part of his life.
* * *
Ralph Jackson’s funeral took place the following Monday afternoon in the Community Church on the outskirts of town. Glancin
g back from his seat in the front pew, Abner experienced a rare sense of satisfaction. The small chapel was filled to the doors. Bethel’s friends in the congregation had come to support her, which was to be expected. But what pleased him most was that the back rows were filled by folks from the Rimrock.
True, Abner wasn’t on friendly terms with the Tylers. But according to custom, when a family death occurred, differences were put aside long enough to pay respects. Will Tyler, looking drawn and restless, was seated on the aisle, with his young daughter beside him. No sign of Tori, but someone had mentioned she was in court today. Beau was there with Natalie. Sky, still looking raw around the edges, had come with the Prescott girl. Even Jasper was there, wearing a twenty-year-old brown suit that was too big for his age-shrunken body. The row behind them was filled with cowhands who’d worked with Ralph.
All in all, it’s a nice turnout. Really nice, Abner thought. And the medical examiner had been thoughtful enough to release the body for a timely funeral. Ralph’s death had been ruled a tragic accident, a consequence of his trying to save the Tylers’ horses. By now, the burnt truck had been found. The evidence showed it had been stolen and vandalized, probably by a teenage gang. Thanks to Abner, no one would ever know the truth about Ralph—except maybe Stella, who had every reason to keep it to herself.
Abner’s family filled the entire front pew of the little church. Bethel sat beside him, putting on a good show of grief for a woman who’d detested her son-in-law. Vonda, in black, wept quietly as she soothed her baby. She was still a pretty girl—pretty enough, hopefully, to find a better husband than Ralph had been. Next to Vonda, the other Sweeney children sat in descending order, like steps. Even the younger ones were awed into silence by the occasion. They sat with their arms folded, and their feet, in hand-me-down shoes, dangling from the bench.
The Tylers’ insurance had paid for the funeral. It would also pay out a handsome benefit to Vonda and her child; and Ralph would go down in memory as the hero who’d sacrificed his life for his employer’s horses. Abner smiled to himself. All in all, things could be worse.
Sometimes the ends really did justify the means.
* * *
Will had given the men who’d known Ralph a couple of hours off to attend the service, but no time to socialize afterward. The work on the barn couldn’t wait any longer. By now, the rubble had been cleared off the foundation, and, with the help of Sky’s construction crew, the walls were being framed. So far, the cold, dry weather had held. But nobody had forgotten the norther that had frozen the pastures and paralyzed the ranch for days. Another storm could blow in at any time.
Will had driven his pickup to the funeral, with Jasper riding shotgun and Sky, Lauren, and Erin crowded into the backseat. Now, as they turned off the main road and onto the gravel drive that led up to the house, Will remembered Lauren’s invitation. Last night she’d announced that she had a surprise to show him, something that had to be seen by daylight—something that couldn’t wait.
There’d been no need to explain. Today was Monday. With the trial on Wednesday, and so many things left undone, Will’s time was running out.
Pressed by the need to get the barn up, Will had tried to put her off. But Lauren had been insistent. Sky, newly home from the hospital, had backed her. So had Jasper, who seemed to know more than he was telling. “It’s a damned conspiracy,” Will groused. But he couldn’t help being intrigued. Something was up—and there was only one way to find out what it was.