Texas True (10 page)

“Just be yourself,” Sky said. “If she likes you, fine. If not, there are plenty of other girls around. The most important thing to remember is, play it cool. Don't push her. And don't act like you care too much, even if you do. Make sense?”

“I . . . guess.” Lute seemed distracted. They were nearing the bog, a place Sky had never liked. It was rank with the odors of rotting vegetation and animals that had died trapped in the muck. Today the smell seemed unusually bad. Black vultures, their ugly red heads bare of feathers, flapped in and out of the reeds. A dozen of them roosted in the dead white cottonwood that stood at the edge of the swamp.

“Dammit!” Sky swore. “I'm betting we've lost a cow. But we've got to make sure. Come on, Lute. It won't be pretty, but this is part of the job.”

Dismounting, they tethered their horses at a safe distance and walked down the slope toward the patch of tall brown reeds where the birds were flocking.

Lute was first to see what they were feeding on. Without a word, he doubled over and vomited in the grass.

Sky breathed an oath as he saw it, too. The body had been here for a few days, he calculated, long enough for the birds to make a mess of it. The head and torso were hidden by the reeds. Only the bare legs were clearly visible—legs that ended in a pair of waterlogged pink boots.

W
ill was propped on pillows, his expression a thundercloud. “I saw the news last night,” he growled with an eyebrow lifted toward the small TV above his bed. “I hope you're here to tell me what the hell's going on.”

Beau took a moment to study his brother from the doorway. The antivenin was doing its work. His gaze was alert and the puffiness was gone in his face and hands. But the bitten leg remained swollen and inert beneath the sheet. According to the doctor, he was still on pain medication and would be in the hospital at least through the weekend.

“You're looking right perky this afternoon.” Beau walked into the room and took a seat next to the bed. “Sounding perky, too.”

Will swore. “Lord, get me out of this place! Those blasted nurses won't even let me up to piss!”

“So I see.” Beau glanced at the catheter bag that hung below the hem of the sheet. The teasing banter masked his genuine concern. His brother could have died from the fall off the horse, if not from the bite.

“So what did you hear on the news?” he asked Will.

“I heard somebody found a female body in the bog. And it turned out to be that poor kid from the Blue Coyote. What the hell happened out there?”

“Nobody knows for sure. But the ranch has been a damned circus. Cops and press all over the place. If I hadn't been needed to deal with them, I'd have been here sooner.” Beau rose, walked to the sink, and filled a paper cup with water. Sitting again, he took a sip. “Sky and Lute found her when they were checking for cows. She'd been there long enough for the buzzards to get at her. Evidently she was shot through the side of the head.”

“You've had experience with this kind of thing. Was the girl killed on the ranch?”

“The sheriff doesn't think so. Since they didn't find any blood at the scene, I'd agree. Her body was more than likely dumped. But you're talking fifteen miles from town. Somebody went to a lot of trouble to leave her in that bog—somebody who knew exactly where to take her. When we know why, we should be able to figure out who.”

Will fingered the stubble on his unshaven jaw. Beau could sense his brother's thoughts, wandering the same paths his own had traveled. Only someone local, most likely someone who'd grown up here or worked on the ranch, would know about the bog. And the way the girl was killed, coldly, almost execution style, didn't suggest an impulsive crime of passion. Somebody had wanted her dead for a reason—somebody who knew how to kill. But why leave the body where it would attract scavengers and be found?

“Any suspects?”

“Not yet. Lute was one of the last to see her alive, but he's got a solid alibi. Ralph saw the girl when he picked up Lute outside the bar. They both swear she was fine.”

“Lute was with her that night?”

“Not in the way you mean. He bought her a pizza. The cashier at Burger Shack confirmed they were there. Lute's pretty broken up, but I think it was just a case of puppy love.”

“What about those two birds that run the place—the woman and the biker with the tattoos?”

“They claim she was alive when they closed up and left that night. Last they saw of her, she was headed for Burger Shack with Lute.”

Will shifted in the bed to ease the pressure on his bad leg. “Damned shame. I've had a few drinks and played some pool in that bar myself. The girl was a sweet kid, for all the way she made her side money. Nobody deserves to go that way. I just hope they catch the bastard who did it.” Abruptly, he changed the subject. “What about the roundup? I hope you're not about to tell me that everything's shut down for the murder investigation.”

“Relax, everything's fine.” Beau had been ready to counter that concern. “The operation's moved to the northwest pasture. Everything's on schedule to finish next week, and then Sky plans to start looking for colts to train. I know you wanted me to get the ranch records on the computer, so I'll be spending time in your office.”

“There's still a lot to do now. Somebody's got to see to the calving. The heifers will be dropping their babies anytime now. And as soon as the herd's up on the caprock, the manure's got to be spread on the pastures, and that mesquite's got to be chained and fired.”

“I know.” Beau nodded. “Trust us, Will. Everything's under control. Just take it easy and let yourself heal. As soon as you get home, you can start bossing everybody around again.”

“Fine.” Will winced with the pain. “Now get out of here and get back to work. You've got better things to do than sit around here keeping an old grouch company.”

Beau rose, pausing at the door. “Anything else?”

“Call Tori and tell her she can bring Erin to the ranch this weekend. I know Erin wants to see her foal.”

“I will, but you may see Tori before I do. She said she'd be checking on you today.”

Will snorted. “She's only worried for Erin's sake, that's all. Tori doesn't give a damn about me, and I can't say I blame her.”

“I won't even ask.” Beau wouldn't have minded knowing the full story of their breakup. But this wasn't the time to put Will through any more stress. With a quick good-bye, he exited the room and started down the hall.

One of the nurses, a husky young man, stopped him short of the swinging doors. “Mr. Tyler, the hospital wants to replace the antivenin Dr. Haskell brought in yesterday. We've packed six vials in the cooler she left. Would you be able to get them back to her?”

“No problem.” Beau's answer came without hesitation. “Since she brought all she had for my brother, I know she'll appreciate getting her supply back.”

Beau accepted the cooler and carried it to the pickup he'd driven from the ranch. He'd be going through Blanco Springs on the way home. It would be easy enough to drop it off at the clinic, which was built onto her house.

Once he reached Blanco Springs, he drove right to her place, an ordinary-looking redbrick rambler on the outskirts of town with no close neighbors. The clinic was built onto one end at a forward angle, like a wing. Beyond the house he could see a stable and a corral with two horses in it, probably four-legged patients of Natalie's.

If she wasn't home, he had already decided to leave the cooler with Tori. He wondered if he should do that anyway. But Natalie's Toyota was parked outside the clinic, and next to it was a vintage pink Cadillac. Evidently she had a patient. He would just leave the cooler and go.

As he parked next to Natalie's SUV, the front door of the clinic opened and a blue-haired woman in a lavender pantsuit emerged with a gray poodle in her arms. Carrying the dog to the Cadillac, she climbed in and drove off down the street.

Walking up to the door, Beau gave it a warning rap, then stepped inside. Natalie, who ran her business without hired help, was straightening up the reception area, rearranging the magazines and throwing away a candy wrapper someone had left. She was dressed for work in jeans and a white lab coat, her curls pulled back behind her childlike ears.

She looked around with a startled glance, then smiled as he held up the cooler. “I hope that isn't empty,” she said.

“No, they replaced your donation. Thanks again, Natalie. Our family owes you a huge debt.”

“Consider it paid.” She took the wrapped vials out of the cooler and placed them in a fridge behind the reception area. “How's Will?”

“Looking better, but he's as grumpy as a grizzly bear with mange.”

“That must mean he's getting better.” She walked back around the counter to face him, her liquid eyes so vulnerable that it took all his restraint to remain where he stood. “I heard about the body they found on the ranch. That poor girl. Who would do that? Why? It can't be anyone from around here, can it?”

“I don't think they have any answers yet,” Beau said. “When you're on a call out on those back roads, you need to keep your eyes open, and for heaven's sake, don't play Good Samaritan. If you know how to use a gun, you'd better carry one.”

“I—” The rest of the sentence died on her lips at the sound of a door opening in the rear of the clinic. It took a split second for Beau to realize it was the door leading from the main part of the house.

Natalie's face paled. She took a step away from him. “I'm up front, Slade,” she called.

Beau stood his ground, waiting for Slade to appear. He hadn't meant to get Natalie in trouble. But they'd done nothing wrong, and he'd be damned if he was going to turn tail and run.

“Hello, Slade,” he said as the man stepped out of the hallway.

“What're you doing here, Tyler?” The tails of his work shirt hung loose over his belly, and one hand clasped an open can of beer. He looked mean enough to spit acid.

Beau kept his calm. “Your wife's antivenin saved my brother. The folks at the hospital in Lubbock asked me to bring her a new supply. I just dropped it off.”

“So, if you just dropped it off, how come you're still here?”

“Show some manners, Slade!” Natalie burst out. “We were talking about the murder of that poor girl, and Beau was asking me if I had a gun. That's all.”

Slade's eyes narrowed to menacing slits. “If my wife needs a gun, I'll give her one of mine. You've got no business hanging around her. You got a problem with that, feel free to take me on. I'd enjoy beating you to a bloody pulp.”

Beau's gaze flickered toward Natalie. Her eyes were big and frightened. Her mouth formed the word
Go!

Reining in the urge to drop the man to his knees with a well-placed jab, Beau took a step toward the door. “I didn't come here to cause trouble for either of you. I'll be going now. Thanks again for your help, Natalie.”

Tearing his gaze away from her, he strode out the door to his truck. Climbing into the driver's seat, he backed into the street and switched on the radio. As he headed out of town, he punched in a country music station and cranked the volume up so loud that it almost hurt his ears. He'd hoped the pounding noise would drown out the thoughts in his head—wanting Natalie, worrying about her, knowing he couldn't allow her problems to become his. It didn't work. The music's blare became annoying. He switched the radio off.

 

Natalie faced her husband across the clinic's small reception room. “That was uncalled for, Slade,” she said. “Beau's an old friend and he had a legitimate reason for coming here today. Beyond that, there's nothing going on between us.”

“Nothing, my aunt Maggy's ass!” He crushed the can in his fist and flung it to the floor. “I know you went tearing off to Lubbock to be with him. Did you think that because I was on the road I wouldn't hear about that?”

“Stop it!” Natalie's fist came down on the counter, hard enough to hurt. “Will was snakebit and had to be Life Flighted to Lubbock. Beau rode along in the helicopter. The hospital was out of antivenin, so I rushed there with what I had. That's all there was to it. Call the hospital if you don't believe me! Ask anybody who was there!”

“Like I'd want people to know I was checking up on my wife!”

Seething, she drew herself up, chin thrust at a defiant angle. “I've been completely faithful to you, Slade. The whole time we've been married, I've never strayed once, never even come close. Can you say the same for yourself?”

The moment the last question was out of her mouth, Natalie realized what she'd just said. She saw Slade's expression harden, saw the color deepen in his handsome, fleshy face. And suddenly, in a flash of insight, what she'd been denying for years became brutally clear.

“Good Lord, that's what's behind all this,” she said in a strangled voice. “That's why you're so suspicious of me. You've been cheating all along, haven't you?”

His mouth flattened into a grim line. “You bitch!” he snarled, lunging for her. Natalie sprang away, but he caught her wrist and yanked her back toward him. “I'll teach you to talk that way to your husband—” His hand came up, only to freeze as the front door opened.

“Oh, goodness, I'm sorry.” It was the little old lady with the blue hair and lavender pantsuit. “I didn't mean to interrupt. “I was just looking for my glasses. I believe I may have left them on that counter.”

With an explosive breath and a muttered oath, Slade stalked past the woman and out the front door. A moment later, Natalie heard his pickup backing out of the garage and roaring down the street.

 

Beau arrived at the ranch to find a van from a local TV station parked in front of the house. Pulling up next to the vehicle, he turned off the engine and slid out of the driver's seat. A perky blond reporter sat on the front porch swing, talking with Lute as a cameraman videotaped the interview. Beau could hear her as he walked closer.

“Other people have claimed the girl was a prostitute, Mr. Fletcher. What do you have to say to that?” She was actually smiling, tilting her face to get the best angle for the camera.

Lute was hunched into himself, looking wretched. His skinny arms clutched his ribs, and he appeared to be on the verge of tears. Beau had never punched a woman, but as he strode toward the porch, the urge was there.

“She wasn't what they say,” Lute mumbled. “She was a nice girl. Nice to everybody. She even let me take her out for pizza.”

“I understand you were one of the last to see her alive,” the blonde continued in a voice so upbeat that she might have been covering a child's birthday party. “How did you feel when you found her body?”

Lute hunched deeper, not answering.

“Mr. Fletcher, please tell us exactly how you felt. A million viewers out there are wanting to know.”

Beau had reached the porch. Moving to block the camera, he glowered down at the reporter. “This interview is over,” he snapped. “You and your crew have five minutes to get off this property before I have you arrested for trespassing.”