Something Borrowed, Something Bleu Part 6

aOf course he did,a Anna Belle said.

aProbably not,a Dad said.

She glared at him.

aWhat?a he said. aIam only stating the obvious. We brought them both up to make their own decisions.a aIt was that girl,a she said. aIf he kept going despite our express wishes, if he defied us like that, then it was because of that girl.a aThe one who died?a I asked.

She looked startled. aOf course not. Iam talking about Tabitha Atwood.a aOh. Then what does the dead girl have to do with Bobby Lee?a I asked.

aNothing.a Anna Belle crossed her arms. aNothing at all. She fell in the Cache la Poudre River where it ran through the Dunner property.a I looked at my dad.

He shrugged his shoulders. aThe only reason we brought it up at all is because it was something that happened around the time of your brotheras death. Of all those articlesaand I checked the newspapers from around then again, and those were the only items that caught my attention, tooathat was the only one even remotely related to Bobby Lee. And I do mean remotely. This town isnat that bigamore of a two or three degrees of separation thing than the usual six.a Anna Belle scowled at both of us.

aIam sorry,a I said to her. aIt was messy then, and itas messy now. But weall figure it out.a aIf,a my father said, and we both looked at him. aIf there is something to figure out. Itas possible weall never know why Bobby Lee made the choice he did.a Choice.

I was sure my expression echoed Anna Belleas. She said, aDonat make a big deal out of nothing. Your brother was smart, and he understood what that pastor was all about. I donat care what your father saysaa She shot him a pointed look. aabut Bobby Lee wasnat taken in.a aI agree,a Dad said. aI donat think he went because of Pastor Dunner. But itas possible Tabby did. And he cared for her. A lot. He may have continued to go out to the Ranch without our knowledge out of concern for her.a Anna Belle closed her eyes. aOf course, Calvin. Youare right.a She opened them again, directing her gaze at me. aIf he went against our wishes, it was for her sake.a aIs that why you accused her of killing him? At the funeral?a She ran a palm over her face. aI donat know.a aWe werenat thinking about any connection to Rancho Sueo,a my dad said. His bitterness shouldnat have surprised me, but Iad already grown used to his new aplomb. aAnd now it may be too late to find out.a He took a deep breath. aWe have to be content with the idea that we might never know.a I smiled at him, encouraging him to let go, let it be, be happy. Omm and all that stuff.

But I wasnat about to be content with that, and from the look on my motheras face, neither was she. Tomorrow Iad make another trip out to the dairy to see what I could see.

In the meantime, I had to go call Barr and tell him Iad found another dead body. He wouldnat be happy.

Not happy at all.

_____.

Wednesday morning I showed up bright and early at the Sheriffas Department, itching to talk to Inspector Schumaker. Wouldnat it just figure, then, that head make me wait almost half an hour before summoning me from the little waiting area by the front door.

He led me to a conference room. A long utilitarian table surrounded by molded plastic chairs dominated the middle of the room. The air felt muggy and smelled of carpet shampoo. The gray walls imposed a subdued atmosphere, as did the tinted window film that muted the sunlight coming in from the east.

aMs. Reynolds, have a seat. Iave got your statement all typed up.a I settled my slightly bruised posterior in one of the charcoal-colored chairs and placed my empty latte cup on the table.

In the chair opposite, Schumaker looked up at me from under his brows. His forehead was already s.h.i.+ny with perspiration. aCheck this carefully. Very carefully. If anything is off, or if thereas something youave remembered overnight, you be sure and tell me, all right?a aOf course,a I said and reached for the pages he held.

He pulled them back from my grasp.

aAny changes at this point Iall put down as an earlier case of miscommunication. Understand?a I sat back. aInspector, just what are you getting at?a He held my gaze for a long moment. aThis statement, as it stands, gives Tabitha Bines a thorough alibi.a aOkay.a aIf it turns out that she left for a while, and you donat tell us?a aYes,a I prompted.

aWell, it would be like you were lying about her being there. In effect, Ms. Reynolds, you would be considered an accessory to murder if it turns out she killed her husband and you, um, misrepresented her whereabouts in this statement.a That kind of made my breakfast bacon and eggs do a flip flop. I wracked my brain, trying to remember whether Tabby left at all during our milk culture lesson.

No, but I had. Only a few minutes, though, spent in the bathroom to freshen up after shead bathed my cuts with alcohol. It hadnat been long enough for Tabby to slip out, certainly not enough for her to kill Joe, had it? No. Still, the thought that I might somehow be prosecuted Then I remembered her reaction to finding Joe dead, the look of horror on her face. I just didnat think she was that good an actress.

aI was in the bathroom for about three minutes,a I said to Schumaker. aIt would be great if I could check your accuracy, though.a He frowned at my implication that he might have written something down incorrectly, but he handed me the statement. aAdd your potty break to the bottom of the last page and initial it.a I perused the pages carefully, taking a long time to make sure it was absolutely accurate. It was. I added a sentence, signed it with the pen he gave me and pushed it back across the table.

He sighed and gave the slightest shake of his head as he looked down at my scrawled signature.

aIf I didnat give her an alibi, would you arrest her?a Suspicion crossed his face.

I held up my palm to him. aNo, Iam not changing my mind. But I donat know Tabby that well, nor Joe, and I was just wondering why shead be a suspect in his murder.a aWives are always suspect.a I thought of my upcoming nuptials. Barr would be delighted to hear that. Of course, as a police detective, head no doubt agree.

Schumaker withdrew a handkerchief from his hip pocket and mopped his face. Today it was dark blue. He folded it carefully before replacing it. aBesides, anyone married to Joe Bines would have ample motive to kill him.a Surprised that head make a statement like that to a civilian, especially someone involved with the case, I asked, aWhy?a He considered me. aJoe had what you might call a relations.h.i.+p with law enforcement. Real troublemaker: fights, gambling, a little low level drug dealing for a while. Tabby was wild when she was younger, especially right after your brother died, but she settled down and flew straight once they started up that dairy and she had that little girl.a aSounds like Joe had a lot of people who might have wanted to kill him.a Schumaker c.o.c.ked his head to one side. aIave checked on your background, too. Apparently youave had some success bringing a criminal or two to justice.a Tamping down a smile, I said, aThere have been a few situations.a He snorted. aSo I hear. Talked to Sergeant Zahn, up there in Cadyville where youare from.a I winced. aGreat. I canat believe youare talking to me at all after that.a He grinned. aYouad be surprised. He seems to really respect you.a My eyebrows climbed up my forehead.

aOf course, he doesnat like how you get in his way.a Schumaker leaned forward. aNow, youare not going to get in my way, are you?a I shook my head. aOf course not. I just want to find out what was going on with my brother.a aUh huh. And thereas no chance that Joe Binesa former relations.h.i.+p with your brother is anything I have to worry about?a aWorry about?a aIam not going to find out you have a motive to kill him, am I?a I shook my head again. aNo sir. I havenat seen Joe for almost two decades.a aIall take you at your word,a he said. aFor now.a aYou never told me why you think Tabby would kill Joe.a aAnd Iam not going to. This is you not getting in my way.a I allowed a tiny smile. aOkay, okay. But will you tell me something else?a He barked a short, humorless laugh. aProbably not.a Well, all I could do was try. aDo you remember someone named Ogden Dunner? He had a place east of town he called Rancho Sueo?a Schumaker grew still. aWhy are you asking?a I considered. Took a leap of faith. aThere was a death out there, just before my brother killed himself. A girl fell in the river. It was November. She died on the way to the hospital.a His gaze never wavered from mine. I went on. aThe newspaper didnat say anything more than that, but my parents told me that at one time Bobby Lee was attracted to Rancho Sueo. My mother called it a cult.a aBah.a Obviously Schumaker agreed with my fatheras a.s.sessment of Pastor Dunneras activities.

aThey also said Tabby and Joe spent a lot of time there.a aIs that so? Hmmm. Well, I havenat looked at that one for quite a while. The case has been closed a long time.a aClosed?a I asked. aSo it was open at one point.a He hesitated then said, aTheyare all open, until theyare not.a aWhat exactly happened?a The silence stretched between us as he reflected on what to tell meaif anything. Finally, he spoke. aAccording to Dunner, that night his sonanameas Rayaand some other kids went down to the river.a I scooted to the front of my chair. aHow many kids?a aFive, including the girl who died.a aYou talked with them?a aTalked to Ray. Two of the witnesses got scared. They were runaways to start with and took off. The names they gave Dunner led nowhere. Pretty sure they were fake. The other witness, a girl, came forward.a aWas it Tabby Atwood?a He looked confused. aNo. Youare barking up the wrong tree.a aWho was it then?a aIall say it again: wrong tree, Ms. Reynolds.a Feeling like a pit bull, I came at it from another direction. aThis all happened pretty late at night, didnat it?a The handkerchief came out again. aSaid they were communing with nature.a I snorted.

Inspector Schumaker nodded. aMore likely they were partying.a aWould Dunner have allowed that?a He tucked the handkerchief away. aThe pastor was already asleep.a Hmm. aThe newspaper said that the girl fell in, and then someone saved her. They didnat say who, though, only that she was still alive when they got her out, then she died on the way to the hospital.a aWe were having a cold snap,a he said. aIt was bitter outside, had been for nearly a week. Some of the river was iced up.a aNot a place Iad choose to a'commune with nature.aa He looked his agreement at me. aThe girlas name was Gwen Miller. It sounds like youave read the newspaper account of what happened, so you probably already know that.a In fact, Iad read it again that morning before leaving the house. aIt also said she lived in Spring Creek. Was she a runaway?a Schumaker shook his head. aFriend of the family. Dunner himself brought her in to the emergency room. It wasnat fast enough to save her, though.a aAnd there was an investigation.a aOf course. They concluded it was an accident.a aWhy do I get the feeling you donat buy that?a He shrugged. aIt wasnat my case, but I have no reason to doubt the conclusion. Dunner closed up Rancho Sueo after it all happened and moved to town. Said the press coverage brought a lot of negative attention to what he was doing.a aAnd what was he doing?a aFrom what we could tell? Occasionally providing a safe place for kids in unfortunate circ.u.mstances to catch their breath. It wasnat a formal nonprofit organization or anything. He just opened his home to them when they showed up. Sometimes theread be half a dozen in the house, sometimes none.a He leaned back, balancing on two legs of the chair, and laced his fingers over his abdomen. aWe never found anything illegal, or even untoward. And believe me, we checked. Anytime kids are involved we take a look at the supervising adults.a I laid the well-worn copy of my brotheras final missive that Iad been carrying for two days now on the conference table and sat back in my chair. Bracing myself, I forced out the words: aDo you think Bobby Lee had anything to do with what happened that night?a He glanced down at the letter, but didnat touch it. aNo.a Relief whooshed through me.

Wariness mixed with regret crossed his face. aI looked back through our filesaand the city police files as wellaafter you showed me the letter yesterday. It certainly does imply he and Tabby might have been involved in something unlawful.a I realized I was holding my breath.

aAccording to all accounts, he wasnat out at Rancho Sueo the night Gwen Miller fell in the river. In fact, thereas a note in the file that he hadnat been there for almost six months.a The small smile came to my face automatically. Anna Belle would be delighted to know that.

aHowever, there is a case thatas still open from that time.a My attention snapped back to Inspector Schumaker.

aA hit-and-run death. Guy on a bike, that same night.a That had been one of the other articles Iad printed out. I hunched around the instant knot of dread that settled in my stomach.

aMs. Reynolds, what kind of vehicle did your brother drive?a I scrambled through my memory, searching for the answer to Schumakeras question. Then I had it.

aI donat remember,a I lied. And, of course, the instant the words came out of my mouth the inspectoras sharp eye saw right through me.

He held my gaze. aYour parents would know. Maybe I should ask them.a I sighed. aHe drove a Honda Prelude. It was an awful, banana yellow.a Bobby Lee had loved it. Head saved for years, and then made a screaming deal on the sporty little car. Head even liked the ugly color.

Now I watched as disappointment flickered behind Schumakeras eyes. Ha!

aI donat suppose your parents owned a pickup.a Ahanow I remembered. The guy on the bike had been conscious long enough to say head been hit by a dark-colored pickup. aNope,a I practically crowed. aWeave never had a pickup. I have, of course, but not when I lived here, and not any more. It got smooshed and went to truck heaven a few months back. Now I drive a snazzy old Land Rover.a He stared at me, and I struggled to guide my thoughts back into line. aSorry,a I said. aBobby Lee didnat have a pickup. He didnat hit that bicyclist.a One corner of his mouth quirked up ruefully. aWell,a he said. aIt was a long shot anyway.a I glared. aFunny, I think itas good news that my brother didnat kill someone and then run away.a aSorry.a He ducked his head and dragged out that dang handkerchief again. aSometimes I get a little carried away with my job.a aYeah. Well.a It wasnat like I hadnat run roughshod over a few people in the past, in order to get to the truth. aItas okay. Are we done here?a He nodded. aIall let you know if we have any more questions.a Naturally.

_____.

Traveling east, I followed the retreating s.h.i.+mmer of late summer heat that rose from the highway. The dirt road that wound down to the T&J Dairy seemed quiet after all the comings and goings from the day before. In the parking lot, I turned off the ignition and sat, unmoving, as heat filled the car.

So much death. Violent death. Were there simply those of us who attracted it into our lives? Some people only encountered death by disease or age or their own demise. To others violence was a job: emergency room doctors and nurses, policemen, paramedics. How on earth did I keep getting into these situations?

A thread of sweat trickled down my back.

I popped the door open and got out, unsure of what Iad find in the house on the hill. No doubt the mold-ripened cheese cla.s.s was canceled. I checked the lotion bar and cuticle scrubber Iad brought as a weird kind of condolence offering to make sure they hadnat melted in the heat. But Tabby seemed like a practical woman; certainly shead appreciate a useful gift.

Okay, I had to admit, all Inspector Schumakeras talk about Tabby having motive to kill Joe had piqued my curiosity just the teensiest, tiniest bit. However, even I knew this wasnat the time to quiz a grieving widow about the past.

Celeste came to the door, heavy disapproval weighing her features the moment she saw me.

aTabbyas not here,a she said by way of greeting.

aI see. Do you know when sheall be back?a A young girl came up behind Celeste, her straight brown hair pulled back into a rough ponytail. Her nose was all puffy, and a streak of mascara ran from one red-rimmed eye down to her jaw line. aMamaas making cheese. Sheas out by the mold house.a Celeste put her arm around the girl and guided her back inside. aDelight, honey, you donat have to talk to anyone.a The door shut in my face.

Gosh, Iad only wanted to express my sympathies. Tabbyas mom acted like Iad killed Joe myself.

My nose found the mold house. It was behind the barn, a small, metal trailer with the door open a few inches. That was enough to release the pungent, complex odor of cheese mold.

aYouare a little early for cla.s.s, arenat you Sophie Mae?a I spun around to find Tabby right behind me, holding a large wheel of cheese. She stepped past me, opening the door all the way. The blast of stink made my eyes water, and I coughed.

An easy laugh echoed from within the mold house, then Tabby reappeared looking amused. aItas a little much at first.a She handed me a small round. aHere.a The outside of the round was hard and mottled white and charcoal-blue. The cheese had slumped in the middle, and it was surprisingly heavy. aWhat is it?a aItas one of my varieties. I call it a'Poudre Bleu,a after the Cache la Poudre River that runs by here. Itas great with walnuts, maybe a nice Sangiovese.a aUm, thanks.a I was utterly flummoxed. Here I was, all ready to offer sympathy to a tragic figure after my encounter with the mourning generations on either side of her, and instead I find this woman smoothly coiffed and at ease, working away as if nothing had happened.

If I hadnat been the one to provide her alibi, Iad have suspected that shead killed Joe, too.

At the very least she didnat miss him much. Though from what Iad seen, I couldnat exactly blame her. I mean, I wouldnat have wished the guy dead, but I could sure understand wis.h.i.+ng him gone.

aHere. I brought you these.a I held out the small bag. aThe flat one in the shape of a leaf is a lotion bar. Good for really dry hands. The little container with the screw cap is cuticle smoother.a She took the bag and thanked me, motioning for me to follow her to the milking barn. A cow in the pasture lowed, long and deep, and another answered it in kind. I stood in the doorway as she went in and talked to a handsome Latino guy and a pet.i.te blonde woman who were sluicing down equipment with foamy liquid. I couldnat hear, but Tabby gestured and spoke for a while, and they nodded in understanding.

When she returned, I asked, aYour employees?a aEduardo and Gretchen. Couldnat run the place without them.

aWhere were they yesterday? Did the sheriff interview them?a aEduardo had to drive down to Denver to get a part for one of the milking machines, and Gretchen had the day off. I try to manage it so I always have some help around, but I do a lot of the work here myself.a I guessed Joe didnat count as help. But it had been convenient for the murderer, I thought, that Eduardo wasnat at the dairy yesterday. Of course, there was enough to do in an operation like this that he might not have seen anything anyway.

aHow often do you milk?a aTwice a day, without fail.a She seemed pretty cheerful about it.

aAre you going to keep the dairy?a Her head jerked back in surprise. aOf course! Why wouldnat I? It was my idea in the first place. I can hire a delivery driver now that Joe isnat out spending our profits on booze and poker and bail.a Wow.

aYou seem to be doing all right,a I said.

Her eyes cut sideways to mine, containing more sadness than Iad given her credit for. aIam heartbroken for my daughter. Delight is just devastated, and I want to make it better for her, but I canat.a The blue eyes welled. aBut the animals still need to be cared for, and thereas still a business to run. I donat have a choice.a aI see,a I said, keeping my tone neutral. aAnd youare still teaching the cheese cla.s.s?a She shrugged. aWell, I wasnat planning on it, but if you want me to I will. Isnat that why youare here?a aI came by to see how youare doing. I a.s.sumed youad cancel the cla.s.s.a I didnat think I could take learning how to make more cheese after what Iad witnessed yesterday.

aOkay.a She seemed distracted. Well, who wouldnat be?

aI signed my statement at the sheriffas department this morning,a I said.

Her head was tipped back, her gaze directed at the sky. I looked up and saw a red-tailed hawk circling overhead.

aInspector Schumaker and I ended up talking about Rancho Sueo.a The hawk screamed.

When I looked back at Tabby, her shoulders were hunched, and her lips had thinned into a grim line. aWhy canat you just leave it alone?a she whispered.

Taken aback by the sudden change in her demeanor, I stammered, aUh, it just came up, you know. Nothing to do with Joe. Iad heard Bobby Lee was involved with the Dunners, thatas all.a Iron replaced the whisper. aHe hated it out there. He only went because of me.a aUntil he stopped going, right? Is that why you and Joeaa I stopped. Plunged on. aDid you and Joe get together after Bobby Lee was gone because of a shared interest in religion?a Tabby let out a harsh, abrupt laugh at that. aCan you imagine Joe on the G.o.d-Squad? Please.a She had a point.

aSo why did you go?a Her smile held no humor. aRay Dunner had good weed.a aWhat?a aSon of a preacher man. You know the type.a aIs that why Bobby Lee went out there?a aNah. He was too straight-laced.a Suddenly, she looked very afraid. aPlease stop this, Sophie Mae. Please. No good can come of it.a Maybe no good for her. The way Tabby was acting made me question Inspector Schumakeras a.s.sertion that Bobby Leeas death had nothing to do with Rancho Sueo. Somebody had to get to the bottom of what happened, once and for all.

aGwen Miller died,a I said. aDo you remember that?a Her eyes shot to the left, and she cleared her throat.

aTabby?a The fingers on her left hand fluttered up to her lips, but she still wouldnat look at me. Her gold wedding ring glinted even in the shade. aOf course I remember. It was terrible.a The slightest tremor shook her voice.

aWere you there?a Her chin swung back and forth in a negative.

aTabby.a aWhat?a Her voice went up two octaves as the words tumbled out. aWhat do you want from me? It was a horrible thing that happened. And then Bobby Lee died. And now my husband has been murdered, and you just keep at it and keep at it. I canat help you, and even if I could, I donat want to!a I cringed with dismay. Hadnat I told myself I wouldnat quiz a grieving widow? G.o.d, I was worse than Inspector Schumaker by a long shot.

aIam so, so sorry.a She sniffed.

aIall leave now.a aThat might be best.a aThanks again for the cheese.a I began walking to my car.

aSophie Mae?a I stopped.

aIam sorry, too.a She strode purposefully back into the mold house and shut the door behind her.

Completely stymied, I continued down to the Subaru. I still felt like dirt. Tabby had been through so much. But I was also certain she was lying about somethingaif not everything. Is that what she had meant by, aIam sorrya?

G.o.d, that woman was confusing.

I pulled onto the asphalt and considered my options. A glance at my watch reminded me that Barr would be landing in Denver any minute. This time of day it would probably be an hour and a half before he got to my parentsa house.

Plenty of time to hunt for a few more clues in the libraryas microfilm.

_____.

A group of teenagers who were working on a homework project together destroyed the usual hushed calm in the library, despite regular attempts by the staff to quiet them down. However, I was soon oblivious, thoroughly engrossed in the news stories from the weeks after Bobby Leeas death.

First I discovered a follow-up to the hit-and-run accident. Spring Creek Police and the victimas family pled for witnesses or anyone with information on the driver of the pickup to come forward. It didnat look like anyone had stepped up, and, given Schumakeras questions about Bobby Leeas vehicle that morning, the case was still open after all these years.

Then I found two stories about Ogden Dunner and Rancho Sueo. Neither was about Gwen Milleras death. I made a couple of notes, then moved on. The fourth article took a lot longer to track down, and it was only a small blurb about Dunner saying he wouldnat be taking in any more stray teens at Rancho Sueo.

A glance at my watch made me swear under my breath. Iad skimmed all the articles on the hard-to-read screen and now tapped my foot as I waited for the pokey old printer to disgorge the pages. One of the high school girls at a nearby table pointed at me and giggled to her friend. Belatedly I realized I was drumming my fingers on a bookcase at the same time my foot tapped away. It must have looked like I suffered from multiple tics.

If I didnat hurry, Barr would arrive at the house before me. Head have to face my parentsaface Anna Belleafor the first time all by himself. Ack! Couldnat that thing print any faster?

I broke the speed limit all the way home, praying for lots of highway construction on Interstate 25. Anything to slow my dear fianceas progress.

No such luck. A rental car sat in the driveway. I was too late to save him.

Barreling through the front door, I ran straight into Barr. He caught me, wrapped his long arms around me, and held me in silence for a long moment before tipping my head back and laying a big ola Iave-missed-the-heck-out-of-you smacker on me.

aHi,a he said and smiled.

aHi,a I said and smiled back.

aYouare late,a my mother said, but she was smiling, too, looking down on the great room from the kitchen counter. Everyone else, even Erin, was crowded behind her as if they were going to miss something vitally important.

Reddening, I flapped my hands at them all. aShowas over.a And then to Barr, aI take it youave met my parents.a In the kitchen, no one had moved.

aWeall be right in,a he called over his shoulder, and somehow that magically dispersed the whole group.

aIam sorry Iam late.a aNo problem,a he said with a grin. aWe were just talking flower arrangements.a I put my hand over my eyes. aNooo a aHow are you?a he asked. aYou look great.a aIam better now that youare here.a aMe, too.a Another kiss. aHave you found out anything new?a Ah, my sweetie: my detective.

aMaybe,a I said. aIall tell you later.a He nodded his understanding. I wasnat ready to regale my parents with the information Iad gleaned that day until I could make a little more sense out of it myself. Arm around my shoulder, he guided me toward the kitchen where Anna Belle hovered over the stacks of bridal magazines, checklists, photos of wedding gowns, and invitation samples spread out all over the table.

I groaned. aWhat happened to simple?a aBarr likes the gerbera daisies,a she said.

aThatas great!a I forced out, all bright and cheery.

He laughed and said, aI brought Scotch. Would you like one?a I nodded so hard my neck popped.

Thank heavens the wedding plans took a back seat at dinner, once more eaten on the patio, but for once not cooked on the grill. Dad brought out one of his reliable specialties: egg-battered chili rellenos stuffed with queso fresco, olives, and toasted pine nuts and drowned in his spicy pork green chili. Add a big side salad, fresh corn chips, garden salsa, and fresh guacamole, and it was a feast fit for royalty. The margaritas were cla.s.sic, consisting only of aged tequila, Grand Marnier, and lime juice mixed with plenty of ice. After the single-malt Laphroaig Barr had offered, I limited myself to one.

We lingered over the food while my parents got to know Barr a little better, and he them. They asked about his work, about the changes we were making to the house, and about his family. He wanted to know more about their teaching careers and even managed to get my father to tell a few war stories from his reporting days.