Dang Near Dead (An Aggie Mundeen Mystery Book 2) (19 page)

Monty stepped back to adjust his aim and almost tripped over us. The wild man on top of me lost his grip and rolled off. I spun the other way.

“Aggie, where are you?” Sam yelled. His head popped above a bush behind his gun.

Sunny motioned for me to crawl toward him.

I’d made it within arm’s reach of Sunny when I heard footsteps crunch toward us through the brush. The crazed man with his knife? Rickoff with his gun? Monty aiming a boulder?

“Don’t forget to look down,” Sunny shouted to the man stomping toward us. Sunny grabbed the snake’s tail and slung it toward the approaching boots. Monty squealed and jumped two feet off the ground. When he landed, he took off running and nearly knocked down my attacker. The creep regained his footing and struggled to race after Monty. I recognized him; he was a biker from Bandera. His tight leather pants slowed him down. I threw a petrified patty at him and almost connected.

Sam and Rickoff popped up yards away with their pistols aimed at Monty and his friend.

“Shoot to their right,” Sam yelled to Rickoff. “I’ll shoot left.”

It didn’t take many shots before the two men stopped running. Monty raised his arms.

“Okay. Okay. Don’t shoot me!” he shrieked. “I’m not movin’. Where’s the damn snake?”

“Better keep still, Monty,” Sunny hollered. “Snakes aim for movement.”

Monty froze like alabaster ice.

“Think we ought to shoot ’em, Rickoff?” Sam asked.

There was a nasty pause. “Naw,” Rickoff said. “They ain’t worth it.”

Sam grabbed handcuffs from his backpack.

“You a cop?” said Monty. “I’ll be…You ain’t going to let that snake bite me, are you?”

“I’m going to put him in the cell with you and your friend here.” Sam tossed a rope to Rickoff. “Go tie up George Tensel. When he comes to, we’re going to chat with him and these sleaze balls about a bobcat.”

Forty-Three

When George regained consciousness, Sam and Rickoff stood him up and tied the three men, putting the smelly cowboy biker between George and Monty. Sam left two feet of rope between each man. He asked the newcomer his name, the man I’d spotted riding through the brush.

“Currin Dowdy,” he grumbled, staring at the ground, his putrid hair flopping forward.

Having smelled him at close range when he flattened me in the dirt, I knew Dowdy must be one of the characters from Texarita’s who liked Black Jack’s Beard Lube.

Sam grabbed bottled water from a backpack and splashed water in River Rat’s face to revive him. He stood Rat up between George and Dowdy and draped Rat’s arms around their necks. The scoundrels were obliged to hold Rat up to keep themselves from falling down. George, Rat, Dowdy and Monty made an unforgettable foursome of pathetic specimens.

“If you let him fall,” Sam said, “I’ll tie him to you.”

Rickoff held his gun on them. I noticed the pistol he held was larger than Sam’s Glock. With his jaw clinched, Rickoff stood spread-legged in shooter stance, both hands folded around the pistol grip and eyes focused just above the sight. I hoped he didn’t decide to shoot them all. Sam didn’t seem perturbed by Rickoff.

When Sam came over to me, I was sitting on a stump tying a Nitrile glove around my ankle.

“Are you okay?”

“The creep scratched my leg with his spur. I’ll be all right.”

“You sure started something with that bobcat remark.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

“We got these guys, thank God. But one of these days, Aggie….” He helped me up, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe the chaos I’d launched.

We padded toward the captives. Sam had his eyes on Rickoff.

“Who’s the biker/cowboy?” I asked.

“Monty’s jailbird friend, Currin Dowdy.”

“The cowboy Meredith saw talking to Monty at the corrals?”

“Yep.”

“Didn’t we see him at Texarita’s Grill?”

“We did. He must have followed us to the BVSBar.”

While I pondered how Currin Dowdy figured in the mix, and how long Rickoff could keep from shooting somebody, Sam and Rickoff ordered the four men to walk toward the stables.

It was a long walk. There were a few open areas without mesquite and whitebrush, but not many. The whitebrush had grown spikes after the recent rain. George and Monty, walking on the outside, had a hard time protecting their arms from spikes. The three dragged Rat’s close-to-dead weight between them. Having been recently knocked out cold, Rat was too goofy to help much.

Rickoff followed close behind the four men with his gun aimed at them. Sam walked a few paces in back of Rickoff, pointing his Baby Glock at the ground.

“Since you guys like to work together,” Sam called to the captives, “I thought I’d give you another chance.”

Sunny and I followed them, walking through open spaces whenever we could.

I’d figured out that Monty, using his skill for accurately throwing projectiles, must have heaved a rock at Vicki’s horse to make it pitch. Her horse had danced, creating the first batch of horseshoe marks on the trail. But Vicki had apparently stayed mounted.

At that point, Monty must have reverted to a backup plan using the wire, rope and animal hair I’d found on the trail. Monty would have needed a partner to devise a second plan. That’s where George Tensel came in.

I scooted ahead of Sunny and sidled up next to Sam. “Are we going to interrogate them at the corrals?”

“We? I don’t usually team up with somebody who starts a ruckus that almost gets us killed.”

“I’m sorry.” I needed to explain. “I was trying to needle Vicki’s attacker while we had everybody together. We could have ridden all morning without learning a thing.”

“Right.”

“I know stuff about the rope and the snake and Vicki,” I said.

“I think I’ve figured it out.”

“Probably. But there are crucial elements… and you need documentation. Meredith brought a tape recorder to record information for her articles. We could use that.”

He stopped. “Agatha, this is a matter for the law. I’m turning these guys over to the Bandera sheriff.”

I grabbed his arm and kept walking. I didn’t want to lag too far behind. He had to keep his Glock within range.

Stretching my neck, I whispered in his ear. “You’re here undercover without SAPD’s sanction. You asked Joaquin at the crime lab to evaluate evidence samples. If you get these creeps’ confessions on tape, you’ll have proof they tried to murder Vicki. It will exonerate you from those other nasty details, like going it alone. Like not working with local law enforcement.”

“I’ll think about it.” He shook off my hand and marched ahead. My leg ached where the spur had dug in. My feet itched so much it was hard to keep up. Fortunately, I thought the urushiol sap on my poison ivy patches had finally petered out.

I was dying to learn exactly what George had done and why he wanted to kill Vicki Landsdale. I could hear him panting from ten feet away. I hoped he didn’t have a heart attack before we could question him.

We finally reached the clearing near the stables. Somebody had opened the corral and let the horses in, including the ones we’d been riding, and closed the gate. Still saddled, they munched on bales of hay, oblivious to the recent trauma.

Meredith and Ranger were trying to comfort riders who’d dashed to the stables. Jangles was a mess. Her arms had new scratches from galloping through the brush, and her hair looked like a bird’s nest. Ranger asked her if she was okay. When he promised to make her another wire sculpture, she almost purred.

Millie lay prostrate on the ground. Meredith and Stoney sat on either side of her.

“You’re going to be okay,” Stoney said. “You can move your arms and legs, so you know everything works. Now you just need to sit up.” Millie looked like she was in shock. She didn’t even struggle to help them lift her.

“I’m never leaving Dallas again,” she croaked.

Selma sat on a log, crying. “I can’t believe George hit my horse like that. It ran the whole way home with me trying to hang on.” When she saw George, Monty, and the grubby cowboy coming through the brush dragging River Rat, she stopped sniffling.

“Is everybody okay here, Ranger?” Sam called. Ranger nodded.

“We had a few mishaps on the trail,” Sam said. “Ranger, why don’t you walk the ladies to their cabins? We’ll follow in a few minutes.” He undraped Rat from Monty, Dowdy and George, keeping his back to the others so they couldn’t see that the three culprits were tied together. He sat those three on a log and motioned Rickoff to keep an eye on them. His trusting Rickoff put me on edge.

“Ranger,” Sam said, “take River Rat with you when you walk the ladies home. Drop him off at his cabin. Sunny can give you a hand. We’ll be along shortly.” Ranger seemed so relieved nobody had gotten hurt, he’d have done anything Sam said.

It looked like Sam wanted to question George, Monty and Dowdy at the corrals where nobody else would hear. Except for Meredith and me, of course.

It appeared Sam was going to let Rickoff hang around, too. I ran over to Meredith. “Tell the others you’ll go on ahead,” I whispered. “Grab your tape recorder and sneak back here. Make sure nobody sees you. You’re about to get a scoop.”

Forty-Four

The women tromped toward their cabins accompanied by Ranger, Rat and Sunny. When they were far enough away to be out of earshot, Sam turned to Rickoff. “Can you get more rope? We need to re-tie these guys.”

Rickoff went to get rope from the horse barn. I hoped he didn’t come back carrying a shotgun. While Sam held his pistol on Monty, George, and Currin Dowdy, I sat quietly off to one side. Sam hadn’t banished me yet. If Rickoff didn’t explode, I might have a good chance to hear the culprits’ stories.

Monty scoured the ground with his eyes. He seemed more worried about snakes than about Sam. I heard him let out a sigh when Sunny left. George was in such lousy shape, he was still panting.

By the time Meredith returned with her tape recorder, Sam and Rickoff had re-tied the three men. Meredith handed the recorder to Sam and came to sit by me. Sam gave the two of us a “keep quiet” look before he clicked on the machine.

Sam gave his name, title, date and location. Then he turned to Monty. “Tell us who you are and what you’re doing at the BVSBar Ranch.”

“Uh. Monty Malone, Assistant Wrangler. Address… uh… bunkhouse by the stables, BVSBar Ranch, Bandera, Texas.”

Sam turned to Currin Dowdy and had him state his name and current address. “You were in jail with Monty Malone?”

“Yeah. Ain’t that the luck.”

“Meredith Laughlin overheard you say that Monty Malone killed somebody with a knife. Who did he kill?”

“Nobody, fer as I knew. He’d had so many knife fights in them gangs, I figured he musta kilt somebody.”

“Then why did you tell him he’d killed someone?”

“When I got outta the pen, they weren’t hiring ex-cons, even for the rodeo circuit. I heard y’all talkin’ at Texarita’s about goin’ to some dude ranch. I followed you and found out Monty had got himself this here job. Figured I might get me one.”

“When Monty told you Ranger wasn’t hiring new wranglers, did you try to blackmail Monty to get yourself hired?”

“Right. Alls I know is wranglin’. If I cain’t do that, there ain’t nothing else.”

“You almost killed that lady.” He pointed over at me. “That’s assault. Attempted murder.” Sam’s face turned an angry shade of red.

“I didn’t aim to kill nobody,” Dowdy said.

Sam took a couple of deep breaths and looked over at me. I gave him a thumbs-up.

He turned to Monty. “Where were you the night Vicky Landsdale rode her horse on the BVSBar Ranch trail by the river, the night she was found lying on that trail?”

“I’d gone down to the trail earlier and was hidin’ in the brush. We’d planned it, me and George here.” He flicked his thumb in George Tensel’s direction. “He knew I could get rope from the barn and wire from Ranger to drag the bobcat, then put the critter back on the ceiling.”

George Tensel stared at the dirt.

“You took a stuffed bobcat down from the dining room ceiling of the lodge, here at the BVSBar Ranch?” Sam asked.

“Yeah,” Monty said. “While everybody was eatin’ dinner outside, I tied wire around the cat’s neck, hooked it to a rope, took it to the horse trail and hid it in the brush. I laid the rope across the trail in a crevice and smoothed dirt over it so nobody’d see it. I’d yank it across from the other side and spook Vicki’s horse. Since everybody ate grub out on the patio that night, I figured nobody’d miss the cat in the dining room.”

“Whose idea was it to scare Vicki’s horse?”

Sam wanted to record the complete identity of the person who’d instigated Vicki’s fall.

“I told ya. It was his… George Tensel.” Monty jerked his head toward George. “Good thing he thought of that cat. When I threw the rock, it spooked the horse, but that little citified twit rode well enough to stay on. Damnedest thing.”

“The little twit… you’re referring to Vicki Landsdale?”

Sam’s law school training was apparent.

“Yeah,” Monty said. “Shore ‘nuf, I had to yank the bobcat across the trail in front of her horse.”

“Was that when Vicki Landsdale fell off?”

“Yeah. The horse went nuts and pitched her. She hit her head on them rocks.”

“Did somebody tell you to spook Vicki Landsdale’s horse so she’d fall off?”

Sam had to nail down the perpetrator and the facts. He must have testified for the prosecution enough times to know the details of a case had to be airtight for a jury to convict the guilty party.

“Like I said, George Tensel here told me to spook Vicki’s horse. ‘Course I didn’t like the girl noway. Ranger was nuts about her and she treated him like he wadn’t there. Vicki knew I didn’t like her. I figured if she ever changed her mind about Ranger, she’d wrap him around her li’l finger and tell him to dump me first thing. I had the best deal anybody ever seen ‘round here. I wadn’t about to let no little twit louse it up. When George told me he was figurin’ a way to make this here ranch lose money so he could buy it cheap, I reckoned I had me a partner.”

I nodded. When I witnessed how well George rode his horse, I suspected he liked ranches better than he let on. Sam saw me nodding and gave me a warning look. I pressed my lips together.

“George Tensel,” Sam said, “you wanted to buy the BVSBar Ranch? Haven’t you told everybody here you hate ranches?”

“Yeah. But I know what they’re worth. Eighteen hundred acres in the heart of the Hill Country? I’d been trying to buy choice real estate like this for years. Couldn’t touch the price. Decided maybe I could get this one cheap.”

The starch and bravado seemed to have gone out of George. I was glad he was pathetically out of shape. His hike through the brush must have prompted him to get the whole ordeal behind him.

“I sure could use some water,” George said.

“I imagine you could,” Sam said. “You thought you could buy the BVSBar Ranch cheap? Why was that?”

“Old Bertha would never sell. The owners died and left it to her, but they fixed it so she couldn’t sell the ranch unless it was losing serious money and she couldn’t run it anymore. She could live on it forever, but title to the ranch would go straight to the Nature Conservancy.”

“I overheard you tell your wife Selma,” Sam said, “to call the Nature Conservancy. What was that call about?”

George glared at Sam, but he knew better than to chastise Sam for eavesdropping on his conversation.

“I just wondered,” George said, “if they thought Bertha Sampson might be ready to give up and let the conservancy have the ranch.”

I knew there was more to that story. I was dying to tell Sam how Maria overheard George Tensel tell Bertha he was determined to buy this ranch. But I knew better than to interrupt.

Monty piped up. “George figured a little tragedy at the ranch would make people stop comin’, at least for a while. The ranch would lose money, and the price would go down. That was okay with me. George said someday he’d be boss, and he’d keep me and Ranger on. We’d be head guys.”

George shot daggers at Monty. He was probably wondering why he ever got mixed up with this character.

I shook my head. George Tensel tried to kill poor Vicki Landsdale to get his hands on this ranch. He didn’t even like ranches. Yet he’d kill an innocent young girl just to satisfy his greed. I slapped my hand over my mouth to keep from blurting my disgust.

“How did you know,” Sam asked George, “what the former owners had set up regarding this ranch?”

“I had a lawyer friend research the title and dig out some information,” George said.

“Was anybody else involved in the attack on Vicki Landsdale?” Sam asked.

I knew Sam was thinking about Sunny Barlow. I simply couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

“Pssst,” I said to Sam, motioning him to punch the pause button on the recorder. He glared at me with a this-better-be-good expression. I scampered over and whispered in his ear. I thought I knew the answer about Sunny, but I needed to talk to Sunny again while Sam got the other men’s confessions on tape.

When I finished telling Sam what I knew, he nodded and clicked the recorder on to resume questioning the men.

I motioned for Meredith to stay put and took off running for Sunny Barlow’s cabin.