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Authors: Ron Schwab

Medicine Wheel (21 page)

BOOK: Medicine Wheel
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The woman was staying at his father’s home, she was his brother’s former lover and now she was a soon-to-be member of the Locke & Locke firm. She had very quickly entrenched herself in their lives. Cam hoped this was the end of Serena Belmont surprises.
 

43

T
HE
N
EMESIS
UNTIED
the end of the burlap sack, pulled it apart and dumped the two small copperheads at his feet, knowing they would have no interest in biting him. He watched them slither away in opposite directions along the creek bank. He felt morose and depressed at the departure of his young reptilian friends. He had reared them since they were mere babies, having plucked them from the same nest several years earlier. Since Aldo’s murder by the bitch woman in the county jail, he had feared the discovery of his fondness for snakes, venomous ones in particular. It would not do for his friends to be discovered at his home in the event of suspicion of his involvement in the incident. So farewell, Caesar and Anthony. He knew there would be others, but it was still difficult to release them.

“Don’t be sad, my son,” came the raspy voice from behind him.

He did a quick about face. “Father, what are you doing here?” His father’s presence startled him, because it was not preceded with the usual warning odor of smoke and stale sweat. He found himself troubled and confused by this development.

“Son, I sensed you needed me, and I came quickly. You are feeling great stress, and the pressure builds.”

“Yes, the slut has another lawyer, a nigger woman who has a reputation for great skill and cunning. It is a bad sign.”

“You’re afraid of a nigger wench?”
 

“Afraid? No. If she wins her case, she will die along with Max’s assassin. She may anyway. They both may die before the trial. I am not certain I can wait. I am called to render justice. Soon.”

“Don’t be a fool. Yes, you must kill them, if necessary. But the trial must happen. There will be others for you to avenge in the years ahead. You must not take unnecessary risks. If the law puts the Brannon bitch to death, you can still kill the nigger woman . . . but you can choose the time and place. Do you understand? Wait for the right time and place.”

“I feel the need. It is tearing at me.” The Nemesis began to sob.

“Listen to me,” Father said. “Be a man. The time is near. One way or another, it will all be over soon.”

44

T
HAD
LEFT
C
ATO
at Cantwell’s Livery and walked the three blocks to the Locke offices. He felt a little foolish, but he was attired for a social occasion, wearing his brushed leather jacket and pale blue shirt sans tie and freshly polished dress boots. He had trimmed the ragged hair that was hanging over his ears a bit the previous night and taken extra care with his morning shave.

His mind still reeled. Serena Belmont had reappeared as suddenly and unexpectedly in his life as she had left it. He found himself conflicted. On the one hand he was excited at the prospect of seeing her, but on the other he was a little annoyed at the disruption she brought with her. And according to Cam, she was returning permanently to Riley County, to join the Locke law firm of all things. He was incredulous that this could be happening. He certainly had no notion they would take up where they left off ten years ago. They were mere children then, he realized, and they had followed very different paths. He was prepared for the likelihood that the Serena of his nostalgic fantasy was not the Serena of today’s reality. Certainly, he was not the boy of those idyllic weeks of their romance. They had both taken roads they had planned before their meeting that summer ten years previous, although when Cam related the level of Serena’s success, he found himself somewhat in awe.

As he reached the law office door, he wondered how one greeted a former lover—a polite handshake, a quick nod of the head? A wave of queasiness gnawed at his stomach, as he entered the office.

Reva smiled warmly when she saw him and got up from her chair and hurried over to give him a warm hug. “Thad,” she said, stepping back. “You never stop by anymore. I’ve missed you.”

He returned her smile. He loved Reva—almost everyone did unless they tried to cross his father. “Busy. Between the vet work and the ranching, I only get to town for quick supply runs. I’ll try to do better.”
 

“See that you do. I know you’ve got business here today. Let me see if Serena’s ready to see you.” She turned and headed down the hall.

Momentarily, Reva returned with Serena close behind. The coffee-brown eyes met his, and she moved briskly past Reva to give Thad his second hug of the early afternoon. Only this one was brief and perfunctory. At least he didn’t have to worry about whether to shake her hand.

“It’s good to see you, Thad. It’s been a long time.”

Thad caught a glimpse of Reva watching them with interested and inquisitive eyes and a mischievous, tight-lipped smile on her face. He’d have to slip out quickly or face an interrogation when he left the office.

“It has been a long time,” he agreed. A brilliant turn of phrase, he thought, feeling like a tongue-tied fool.

“Come back to my office,” Serena said. “Such as it is.” She led him back to the spartanly furnished office.

He noted that the desk and her chair comprised an island surrounded by a sea of law books and scattered papers. The books on top of the desk were stacked with some semblance of order.

“Sit down,” Serena invited, gesturing toward the single chair across the desk from hers.
 

She pulled her own chair up to the desk, and they faced each other across a barrier that separated them by little more than three feet. This felt beyond strange, and he waited for her to initiate the conversation. Her dusky beauty hadn’t waned, he observed, although she looked a bit tired and gaunt. She wore a charcoal-gray dress to enhance her professional demeanor, he supposed, and her thick, black hair was pulled back and fastened with a silver barrette before dropping to shoulder-top.

“This is a little awkward,” Serena said softly. “There are things we must talk about before I leave for Washington, but for now we have to focus on the trial. A woman’s life is at stake.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Thad replied, a little more testily than he had intended.

“Very well. I would like to start from the beginning. Cam has given me a summary of your involvement, but you are the one who is going to have to tell the story under oath. I will be asking the questions during the defense presentation. I will not ask a single question I don’t know the answer to, so I must know before the trial what your answers will be.”

“I understand that.”

“Would you tell me in your own words everything you remember about the night Max Brannon . . . died?”

“My first contact was when Myles . . . that’s my nephew . . . showed up at my place and told me Cam wanted me to get to the C Bar C as soon as possible. He said I was to bring my medical bag and my photographic gear . . . which I thought very strange. On the other hand, Cam makes a habit of surprises.”

“From my brief acquaintance, I can imagine. Go on.”

She was like a stranger to him in her demeanor and in this environment, and it somehow made it easier for him to relate his part in the bizarre events of that night. He set forth his narrative of the events as he remembered them without interruption. When he finished, he said, “That’s pretty much what I recall.”

“Okay, I’d like to get a little more specific now. Did Mrs. Brannon . . . that’s how we’re going to refer to her. This is the name used in the criminal complaint, and we don’t want a fuss with the prosecutor. Besides, there is a possibility some jurors would have an unconscious bias against a woman who declined to use her husband’s name. Did Mrs. Brannon say that she killed her husband?”

“Never.”

“Did she say he had been shot?”

“No. She said he had died.”

“Didn’t you find that a strange way to put it?”

“Well, at the time it didn’t make much sense in light of her condition, but I hadn’t examined Max yet.”

“Since you were there in your capacity as a physician, what did you observe when you examined Max Brannon?”

“Only that he had a wound between his eyes, obviously a gunshot. Minimal blood. I have to say my examination was rather cursory. Cam didn’t encourage me to spend much time checking out the body. He later mentioned we’d let the coroner worry about Max. He said I didn’t need to take any photographs.”

“What if I told you that Mrs. Brannon doesn’t remember killing Max?”

The question caught him by surprise, and he paused before answering. “Well, I’ve spoken with her on many occasions since that night. She hasn’t told me she didn’t remember, but she hasn’t said anything to indicate she remembers, either. Frankly, I don’t know what to make of the statement.”

“Is it possible someone else could have done it?”

“Possible, I suppose, but under the circumstances, it’s difficult to imagine. Who’s the suspect?”

“Pilar said Mrs. Brannon thought that someone had been following her since the night of Max’s death.”

“Yes, I accompanied her back to Cam’s after she visited my office to have her stitches removed, because she thought someone was following her . . . and someone tried to kill her at the jail with the rattlesnake.”

“Could this have been the same person who killed Max?”

“Anything’s possible, I guess.”

“You sound skeptical.”

“I am. I guess you can try to plant a seed of reasonable doubt with that theory, but I can’t quite buy in to it.”

“Do you think it is possible Mrs. Brannon could have killed Max and not remember it?”

“Yes. There are a number of recorded case studies where people who have suffered horrible, traumatic events can’t recall the incident. ‘Amnesia’ is the medical term being applied to these situations. I think it’s a plausible explanation for her lack of recall.”

“Let me take it a step further. Is it possible Mrs. Brannon was so traumatized by her beating and mutilation that she could have killed Max Brannon without even realizing she was doing it . . . temporary insanity, so to speak?”

“Possible? Yes, I could testify that it is possible.”

“What do you really think?”

“I couldn’t . . . and wouldn’t . . . testify that I thought Kirsten knowingly and consciously killed her husband. That cannot be objectively proven or disproven. But I think she was aware of what she was doing when she killed Max . . . and that she was the one who pulled the trigger. To me, it is more possible she does not remember doing it, but I truly do not know. I have become acquainted with Kirsten since that night, though, and I don’t think anyone other than Kirsten herself will ever know what she remembers. She is a damn smart and shrewd woman . . . and I mean that as a compliment. You and Kirsten should make a dauntless team.”

She smiled. “May I take that as a compliment, too?”

Thad returned the smile. “You may.”

“Thank you. There is one other matter I would like to discuss. Cam told me about a business arrangement you and Mrs. Brannon have. He’s concerned this will come up at trial and could be problematic.”

“How could this be?”

“First, it could adversely affect your credibility as a witness. If you are Mrs. Brannon’s business partner, how objective is the rest of your testimony? Fortunately, we have the photographs to back up some of your testimony . . . but when we get into the area of less objective opinions, such as her mental state, the prosecutor will try to impeach your analysis as biased.”

“I can see that.”

“There is also the question of a pre-existing romantic relationship . . . which would raise the issue of motive.”

Thad flared, but kept his voice soft and even. “There
was
no romantic relationship and there
is
none. I had done some vet work at the C Bar C on, perhaps, two occasions before the night of Max’s death. I hardly knew Kirsten. Since that time, I have been her physician and, more recently, become a business partner.”

“If you can be that emphatic in your testimony, we should be able to overcome any romantic innuendo. The business matter is more difficult to explain. My intention would be to disclose this to the jury before the prosecution does. It makes it much more difficult to cast the business arrangement in an unfavorable light. Tell me about it.”

“The land deal? There’s not much to tell. Kirsten had an opportunity to buy a half section, but she had only enough cash to buy a quarter section. The bank wouldn’t loan her the money for the whole thing, and then after her husband’s death, it became even more complicated. That would not have been a good time to pursue other financing. She told me about the property, and I was very interested in the north quarter . . . you would be familiar with the land. Anyway, she proposed I buy the entire half section and take title in my name. I would arrange a loan for half and she would advance the other half, with the understanding that when her legal troubles were over, I would transfer the south quarter to her. Her part was handled as a loan. I gave her a note carrying two percent interest for the money she put up. She will have a second mortgage on the whole thing, and we’ll have to work out details to release her quarter from the bank’s loan sometime.”

“This was not a good idea.” Thad recognized reprimand in her voice and resented it.

“Cam didn’t like the idea, either.”

“With good reason. You said I would be familiar with the land. What do you mean?”

“My quarter is where the medicine wheel is located.”

For the first time since their reunion, Thad felt he had left her speechless.

After a few moments, Serena said, “I find that very strange.”

“Don’t make more of it than it is. I obviously was familiar with the land. It will fit nicely with my other holdings, and Kirsten’s going to lease it for now. She’s a very astute business woman, and by coincidence, she led me to a good investment . . . and I like the idea of owning the tract where the medicine wheel sits. You’re not the only one who found magic there.” She could damn well think on that—he didn’t much care how she took it.

BOOK: Medicine Wheel
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