Hey, peanut, he said, his voice going soft and husky, whered you come from?
There was a throaty giggle, and the rest of his daughters face slid into view around the edge of the door, wearing an off-kilter smile of delight. And the spasm of pain and guilt and rage that hit Roan then wasnt just a stab; it was a knife thrust deep in his guts and then twisted. But it was a pain he was used to, so he was good at hiding it behind a warm and welcoming smile.
We wanted to surprise you, Susie Grace said as she danced across the room and into Roans arms and gave him a loud smacking kiss.
We wanted to surprise you, Susie Grace said as she danced across the room and into Roans arms and gave him a loud smacking kiss.
Uh-huh, he grunted, swiveling away from his desk to make room for her in his lap. Well, you sure did that. His eyes lifted over her head to the man whod followed her into his office. Boyd Whatre you guys up to so early?
We brought you some breakfast, Susie Grace announced. Grampa made bacon-and-egg samwiches.
Figured you could use some coffee, too. Boyd hefted the old-fashioned, black-painted metal lunch-box he was carrying, the kind that holds a thermos bottle in the lid. Being the sort of man who never liked throwing things away, he had a lot of that sort of antique junk around his place. If you dont mind the good stuff, instead of that swill you got here.
A Montana cattleman by birth, ancestry and tradition, Boyd still perked his coffee in a big enameled pot, which sat and simmered on the back of the cookstove throughout most of the day and by evening, Roan happened to know, the contents came to resemble something a man could waterproof his boots with.
This early in the morning, though, Boyds coffee sounded like pure heaven, especially after a night like hed just had. With a growl of gratitude, he shifted Susie Grace to one knee while he opened up the lunch-box, took out the thermos bottle and poured himself some in the red plastic lid. He closed his eyes and savored the smell of his first cup of coffee and the sweet warm weight of the child in his lap and decided this day might not turn out to be so bad after all.
While Roan slurped down some coffee, Susie Grace got busy unwrapping one of the two fat foil packages from the lunch-box. You have to eat, Dad, she told him sternly. If youre going to work so long you have to keep your strength up.
Grampa tell you that? Roan winked at Boyd.
Keeping her eyes lowered, watching her scar-stiffened hands painstakingly unfold the sandwich wrappings, Susie Grace lifted her chin a notch, giving Roan a glimpse of the shiny puckered skin that covered most of her neck and the right side of her face. No, I told myself. I have a mind of my own, you know.
Boyd snorted and Roan came near losing the swallow of coffee hed just taken. Yeah, you do, he said, chuckling, while Boyd rolled his eyes toward the ceiling.
Tom Daggett tapped on the open door and leaned into the room. How you doin, Mr. Stuart? Hey there, Susie Grace. When youve got a minute, Sheriff?
Roan gave him a nod, then swiveled around and nudged the little girl in his lap. She hopped off obligingly, but with a pitiful sigh for effect. I knowyou have to go to work.
I do, peanut. Sorry. Whatve you guys got planned for today?
Susie Graces eyes danced and her mouth formed its quirky lopsided smile. Were goin fishin. Grampa says Im old enough now, hes gonna teach me how to fly cast. Only I cant wade in the creek, cause the currents too strong.
Not to mention youd freeze your fanny off, Boyd said in his crotchety way, making an impatient come-here gesture with his gnarled and burn-scarred hand. Come on, now, little bit, lets us get out of your daddys way and let him do his job. The hand was gentle as it ruffled his granddaughters hair, then settled protectively onto her shoulder. Guess well see you later, Roan.
Roan said, Im gonna expect some fried trout for supper tonight.
Boyd snorted and Susie Grace threw Roan a cheeky grin over her shoulder. Then you hafta come home or you wont get any.
Roan laughed. Well, I guess I will, then. He kept the smile on his face and gave a good-bye wave as he said, Have fun, and Susie Grace waved back and blew him a kiss. Then he sat with a heavy ache at the bottom of his throat and watched the old cattleman and the seven-year-old child go out the door together, the one bent over and rump-sprung from too many years spent on the back of a horse, the other skip-hopping and holding on to his hand, her flame-red pigtails bouncing. All the family Roan had left in the world, and both of them wearing the scars that were a constant reminder to him of the dear one hed lost, and of how near hed come to losing the two of them as well.
That Susie Grace sure is growin up fast, Tom said as he came on into the room.
Yeah, kids have a way of doing that. Roan picked up a bacon-and-egg sandwich and bit into it, adding as he chewed, What you got for me, Tom?
That evidence you mentioned? Loris on her way to Helena with it right now-just drove out of the parking lot. And, uhI thought youd want to know, Jasons dad-Senator Holbrook-he just pulled up out front. The deputy shifted uncomfortably. How much do you want me to tell him, Sheriff? About the investigation, I mean. I know the usual procedure, but him being a United States Senator, and all
Roan looked at what was left of the sandwich, then put it down, having lost his appetite. Might as well give him everything weve got, he said, frowning into the plastic thermos lid, now empty. Hell just get it anyway- he looked up at his deputy and grinned without humor -him being a United States Senator, and all. You get hold of the judge yet?
Miss Adas workin on it. Said to meet her over at the courthouse and shell put me in touch with the judge. Im about to head over there now.
You say the senators coming in the front?
Yes, sir.
Roan picked up his sandwich again and made a face at it. In that case, you might want to go out the back.
Of course, he knew the inevitable couldnt be avoided forever. By mid-afternoon, with both state detectives, Ruger and Fry, and Roans deputy, Lori Thrasher, back from Helena, and Tom having reported in from the courthouse, Roan knew the inevitable had arrived. He was going to have to bring Senator Cliff Holbrook up to date on the investigation into his sons murder. More specifically, the investigation into the background of the only viable suspect in the case so far, namely, the woman who called herself Mary Owen.
The senators response was about what Roan expected.
What do you mean, she doesnt exist?
Tom and Lori both winced, and Roger Fry shifted restlessly and looked over at his partner. All four lawmen looked as though theyd rather be anywhere but where they were.
Roan folded his arms and carefully leaned back in his chair, just far enough so it wouldnt squeak. Well, he drawled, thats maybe overstating things a bit. Mary Owen did exist, but unfortunately she died in 1971. He paused, then added, At the ripe old age of eighty-three.
The hell you say!
The woman we know as Mary Owen, Roan went on calmly, ignoring the senators exclamation, moved here from Coeur dAlene last winter. Before that she lived in Cheney, thats in Washington state. Shes moved around a lot, our Mary, but weve been able to trace her back aboutwhat, Tom? Ten years? Thats when she showed up in St. George, Utah. Before that, nothing. Nada. According to all the records weve got, prior to ten years ago this woman did not exist. Anywhere.
He spoke calmly, but there was a slow burn in his belly. He had a bad feeling about where this was headed. What he felt like was a passenger on a fast train heading straight off a cliff, knowing there wasnt a damn thing he could do to stop it.
He spoke calmly, but there was a slow burn in his belly. He had a bad feeling about where this was headed. What he felt like was a passenger on a fast train heading straight off a cliff, knowing there wasnt a damn thing he could do to stop it.
Well, what are you waiting for? The senators voice was a low, tense growl. You said this woman was the last person to see my son alive, that she might have had reason to want to hurt him. Now youre telling me shes got a shady past? Why havent you got her in here? Why arent you questioning her?
No, now, I never said she had a shady past. What I said was, she had no past. That means shes got secrets, maybe even something to hide. It doesnt make her a killer. Her fingerprints arent in the system.
You said she had a gun. The senator had that wolf-look in his eyes again-burning cold and hungry. He had his prey in his sights and wasnt about to let her go.
Which isnt the murder weapon, Roger Fry pointed out, after a deferential cough.
Holbrook threw him a look and made a dismissive gesture. Of course it isnt-Im sure thats why she gave it up so easily. Look, if the ladys got one gun, she can have others. You havent found the gun-you said it was a Colt 45, right?-the one that shot Jason. Have you?
Tom Daggett jerked to attention. No, sir, thats right. Not yet, we havent.
She could easily have gotten rid of it-hell, it could be anywhere out there. The senator made a wide, furious sweep with his arm, then gripped the arms of his chair and leaned toward Roan. Look-her blood was on Jasons shirt, wasnt it?
Appears to be, Roan said, with a glance at Detective Fry. We wont know that for certain until the DNA results come back. But look, shes admitted Jason assaulted her that night. Thats not in question.
And she went and got her gun and came back and shot him. Holbrook thumped the chair arm. She had motive, means and opportunity, for Gods sake. What more do you need?
Evidence? suggested Roan, and earned himself a steely, narrow-eyed glare.
I want that woman brought in for questioning, the senator went on in a soft and dangerous voice. If youre not willing to do it, Roan, Im sure these fellas herell be glad to.
Detective Fry coughed and looked down at his feet. Roan wasnt sure he knew what hackles were, but if it was another word for temper, he could definitely feel his rising.
However, he showed no outward signs of annoyance as he rocked gently in his chair and said with meticulous courtesy, Sir, I have every intention of questioning Miss Owen further, particularly in light of what weve found out-or rather, what we havent found out-today. However, Id prefer not to drag the lady out of her shop in the middle of a Saturday afternoon and leave a bunch of this towns female citizens with their hair all gunked up with chemicals. He peered pointedly at his watch. I figure she ought to be closing up inoh, about fifteen minutes, which is when I expect to be there. If thats okay with you?