Dang Near Dead (An Aggie Mundeen Mystery Book 2) (20 page)

Forty-Five

I knocked on Sunny’s door. When he opened it, he’d washed off his makeup. His eyes, set in his freshly scrubbed face, looked haunted. Despite sunken eyes and the white scar streaking down his jaw, his black curly hair and cobalt blue eyes made him startlingly handsome.

“May I come in?

He nodded. I walked past him and sat in one of his cabin chairs. He followed me with his eyes but didn’t say anything. He must have sensed I was bringing news he didn’t want to hear.

“George Tensel and Monty Malone conspired to make Vicki’s horse throw her,” I said. “Sam and Wayne Rickoff have them tied up. Sam is questioning them now at the corrals and taping their confessions on Meredith’s recorder.” I paused to let him digest what I’d said. He looked stunned and didn’t respond. I’d shocked him. I might as well tell him the rest.

“A biker/cowboy named Currin Dowdy, Monty’s former jail mate, showed up to blackmail Monty into helping him get a job at the ranch. Sam’s got Dowdy tied up, too.”

Sunny walked to his bureau. He was apparently trying to make sense of what I’d told him. He sniffed and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Why would George Tensel want to hurt Vicki?”

“He wanted to cause an accident at the ranch— scare customers away so he could buy the property cheap. He got Monty to help him. Monty drew a stuffed bobcat across the trail in front of Vicki’s horse so it would pitch her.”

Sunny slammed his fist on the bureau so hard, the makeup pots danced.

“I know, I know,” I said. “It was pointless and stupid and cruel. I don’t know if Monty and George meant to kill Vicki, but if she dies, they’ll be charged with her murder.”

He turned his back. I heard muffled sounds and thought he was trying not to cry.

“Why are Sam and Meredith questioning them?” he mumbled.

“Sam is a San Antonio homicide detective who came to the ranch to vacation with Meredith and me. He saw no reason to identify himself as a law officer, but when Vicki was thrown, Sam started secretly investigating. Meredith is helping him.”

He kept his back to me.

“If it’s any consolation,” I said, “I know Vicki loved you. She lit up when you were around. She knew she’d found her mate, another kind soul who wanted to help people.”

He whirled and stared at me. “Why would that bastard Monty want to harm Vicki?”

“He thought she posed a threat to his chance to manage the ranch with Ranger. When Monty saw a chance to partner with George Tensel and get rid of Vicki, he thought it would secure his job as Ranger’s assistant. Monty wanted to make it look like you were responsible for Vicki’s accident—I’m not sure why—by spattering your face paint on rocks where Vicki fell.”

Sunny sagged into the other chair and held his head in his hands. He finally looked up. 

“I got off track in high school,” he said. “My teenage gang tangled with Monty’s bunch. Monty cut my face.  That’s how I got the scar. Rickoff attacked me later at the vet rodeo, but this”—he pointed to the scar—“was Monty’s work.”

“I lost a lot of blood and spent time in the hospital. Monty went to jail for what he did. I lost hope of ever having a better life. When Monty got a job at this ranch and realized I already worked here, he probably thought I’d devise a plan to send him back to jail.”

“I see. If Monty got rid of you and Vicki, he’d eliminate any obstacles that might prevent him from being a big shot here with Ranger Travis.”

“I guess that’s right,” he said. “I think Monty suspected I had something to do with snakes popping up at odd times.” He grinned. “I sure loved seeing him jump like a frog out there in that field.”

We both chuckled.

“I thought if I hassled Monty enough,” Sunny said, “he’d go find another job, him and Wayne Rickoff both. I wouldn’t have to keep looking at either one of their sorry faces.”

“I thought Wayne Rickoff had cut your face at the rodeo.” I struggled to keep concentrating on Sunny because I kept picturing Rickoff out there with Sam, clutching that gun. “After Rickoff shaved off his beard, did you recognize him at the cookout as the vet who attacked you?”

“I was startled by how different he looked,” Sunny said, “but I already knew he was the vet who’d come after me. When he jumped me at the rodeo, I was an adult, so I understood why he did it…

“In high school, after I got out of the hospital, I started wearing clown makeup and doing kids’ parties after school. Funny thing was, I found I liked making kids happy. I worked as a rodeo clown even after I graduated.  I’d have gone to college, but I didn’t think I could face anybody without makeup to cover up this scar.” He touched his face. “Vicki convinced me I didn’t need makeup.”

“You definitely don’t need it. With your looks and personality and singing talent, you have a lot to contribute.”

“I’d like to try college. I saved a lot of money for the Caribbean, but we… I won’t be going now. We were going to Saba. They call it Sa-bay…. I could save more money by working here until Bertha finds somebody to take my place. Then I could enroll to study psychology. Maybe help troubled teens.”

“Vicki would like that.”

“Yeah. I think she would.”

I patted Sunny’s arm and left him to try and deal with the pain of all that had happened.

I walked back to my cabin. Anger and greed ruined so many lives. You could possess all the knowledge in the universe and never comprehend how people’s self-centeredness could motivate them to take another person’s life.

From talking to the suspects, Sam had undoubtedly already discovered Sunny Barlow wasn’t involved in Vicki’s accident. I’d reassure him about Sunny later.

Right now, I was curious about the place where Sunny and Vicki had planned to go. I slipped into our cabin, powered up my computer and searched “Caribbean Islands.” The tiny dot on the map I’d seen turned out to be Saba, a Dutch, five-square-mile island in the northeastern Caribbean, north of St. Kitts. It had four small villages and two banks. I remembered the number on Vicki’s note and clicked one of the banks—the Windward Islands Bank.

Forty-Six

I walked to the lodge to tell Bertha how Monty and George Tensel conspired to cause Vicki’s fall and about Currin Dowdy.

“Bastards,” Bertha said. “Who’s Currin Dowdy?” After I told her, I said I had questions.

“Why did you keep telling us Vicki was improving when you knew she could die?”

“There was nothing I could do to help Vicki,” Bertha said, “and I couldn’t afford to have everybody leave. Today was your last day here. If Vicki died after you returned home, I thought it would be a few days before anybody learned about her death. The longer I could keep the tragedy quiet, the less damage there would be to the ranch.” She breathed out a discouraged sigh. “Poor Vicki. She was startin’ to feel like my little sister.”

“Do you know any more about her condition?”

“Only that she was still unconscious this morning. After I found that out, Herb busted in here.”

“If you lose customers, you lose this ranch?”

“Yes. As long as I maintain it as a profitable business, it’s mine. If I can just make it here five more years, I’ll own it outright.”

“Water resurfacing at the old well site should help you save the ranch,” I said, watching her reaction.

Bertha’s eyes opened wide. “How’d you know about that?”

“I wondered about the Vernons’ deaths. When Sam and I did research in town, we located the well on a map, went to find it and stumbled upon the water.”

“Then you know Max and Billy Sue died of natural causes, heat stroke aggravated by dehydration.”

“Yes.”

She looked away as though viewing a window to the past. “When Max and Billy Sue went to the well,” she said, “the water had apparently recessed underground. They must have stayed around, hoping to see it resurface. I guess they stayed too long.” Her eyes filled with tears. “We can always use jewelweed at the ranch, so I planted some around the well. To mark the spot in their memory.”

“Their attorney, Marshall Darren, thought you didn’t know until after they died that they’d changed their wills to leave you this ranch.”

“That’s right,” she said. “I don’t think Herb knew either.”

I was glad to hear that. Maybe I could quit worrying about whether Bertha or Herb had added diuretics to the couple’s thermoses.

A smile unexpectedly played around her mouth. “If I can hang on to this ranch, I’m pretty sure Ranger will stay.” She glanced across the dining room to the check-in desk where the wire sculptures were displayed, the ones Ranger had made for her. “I better get ready to go on a diet.”

If Bertha was successful getting Ranger back, I hoped he turned out to be worth having.

“I do have good news. Meredith can hardly wait to write articles about the ranch—its beauty, the meandering Medina River, Maria’s scrumptious food, the activities, Sunny’s cookouts and his singing. Her article should entice people to come here.”

“That will certainly help. I’ll go thank her.”

“Actually, if you feel up to it, you might want to go sympathize with Millie, Stoney, and Jangles. They had a pretty rough ride when their horses spooked and charged to the stable. Maybe you could pay the girls’ way for a couple of days at the nearest spa if they promise to book a cabin here later?”

Forty-Seven

We walked together toward cabin six, but I walked on ahead to see Selma. Even though she and George argued constantly and seemed to have little in common, I thought I should let her down gently before she saw her husband handcuffed. I knocked on her cabin door.

“Come in.” She sat at their table, sniffling. “I still can’t believe George whapped my horse on the rump,” she said, “and how I managed to stay on that wild creature.”  She motioned me to a chair.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” I said, joining her. “I’m afraid I have more bad news about George.” When I told her he’d conspired with Monty Malone to hurt Vicki, and that Sam would hand them over to the Bandera sheriff, she sighed despondently. But she stopped crying. She almost seemed to expect bad news about George.

“When George had me call the Nature Conservancy,” she said, “I realized he had designs on this ranch.”

I sensed Selma was prepared to deliver up facts about her husband and, for the first time, acknowledge them to herself.

“I’m on the Nature Conservancy’s board,” she said. “When George started giving the organization money a couple years ago, I found his sudden generosity peculiar. He’s never enjoyed parting with money; he laughed at conservation programs and never missed a chance to chide me about being on the board. When he had me call them, I finally realized what was going on.”

“What did he want you to find out?”

“Whether Bertha Sampson had indicated to anyone in the organization that the ranch was failing financially—if she was about to ask the conservancy to take over the property. When I told him nobody had heard from Bertha, I could tell he was disappointed. That’s when I realized he wanted this ranch.”

“If the ranch went to the conservancy,” I asked her, “how could George obtain ownership?”

Her lips thinned into a grim line, as though she was angry at herself. “Various conservancies are set up differently.  In this organization, acquired properties are managed by board members or large contributors.”

“You and George fit both those requirements.”

“Exactly. And now that we’ve stayed at the BVSBar, George could describe this ranch to the conservancy board in detail. He could eloquently explain why we are the obvious choices to manage this property.” She sighed. “He knows I wouldn’t be interested in staying here. He’d have free rein.”

“The way the Vernons set up their wills, if Bertha can hang on five more years, the ranch becomes hers, and the conservancy can’t claim it.”

“That explains George’s sudden interest in the property,” she said. “He’s even greedier than I thought. A real predator.”

I couldn’t disagree. “If he could use the conservancy to get in position to manage the ranch, he’d have five more years to figure out how to acquire ownership.”

She leaned back and looked at the ceiling as though seeking answers to her relationship with George. Finally, she spoke. “We’ve been apart a lot, George and me. Never did understand one another. It’s a good thing we never had children.”

“What will you do now?”

“I’ll have to get a divorce. Maybe I’ll take back my maiden name. I might even open a spa. I’ve dreamed about a ritzy place that uses natural products that don’t damage the environment. Of course, it wouldn’t have any poisonous plants or nasty creatures in outdoor areas.”

“Of course not. Maybe Jangles and her friends can give you tips from the beauty business.”

“That would be good. George made so much money, he began making investments and putting them in my name. I can use it to start my business.”

“I wonder if a spa in the Hill Country would be successful,” I mused aloud.

Forty-Eight

I left Selma to contemplate her future. When I entered our cabin, Meredith was packing. We heard laughter, walked through the breezeway and found Selma and Bertha in the cabin with Jangles, Millie, and Stoney.

“I told ’em I’d treat them to a day at the nearest spa,” Bertha said, “but they had better ideas.”

They looked like cats that had swallowed canaries and could barely suppress smiles. Meredith and I waited.

“We’re going to open a spa here at the ranch.” Jangles giggled.

“We’re going to be partners,” Stoney said. “Millie can keep the books. She’s a tight-ass accountant.” Millie cut her eyes at Stoney, but she was too excited to stay mad.

“Stoney will fix whatever breaks,” Millie said. “And she’ll fumigate the place regularly to make sure critters stay out.”

Stoney nodded. “I know a builder who can build anything, and I’ll help him. Later on, we can update the cabins.”

“I told Bertha I’d pay to build the spa,” Selma said. “I’d just as soon build it here as anyplace. Here, I won’t have to pay rent. I’ll sell the house I shared with George and use that money. Since Jangles has been in the beauty business, we can use her expertise to design the spa and beauty shop and won’t have to hire a decorator.”

Jangles beamed. “We’ll have an adorable little shop alongside the spa. Beauty products are big money makers. We’ll sell those fabulous backpacks Bertha designed and charge extra for embroidered insignias. Our spa products will be ‘Hill Country Fresh.’” She giggled. “Naturally, we’ll sell caftans, jewelry and unique flip-flops.”

“And liquid jewelweed in fancy bottles,” Bertha added.

Selma continued, “Thirty percent of profits will come to me until the building is paid for. Bertha will get another thirty percent for providing the land. Then we’ll split the profits five ways.”

“I swore I was through with ranching,” said Millie, “but running a business with my friends, where bugs and critters are kept out, sounds good. It can be an oasis from rustic living.”

“Absolutely, no critters,” Selma said.

We hugged them. Meredith asked Bertha if she’d meet us at the lodge to check out.

We finished packing and loaded our bags into Sam’s Caprice. He walked up looking refreshed and pleased with himself and hurled his suitcase into the trunk. We drove to the lodge, checked out and gave Bertha and Maria a final hug.