Frogskin and Muttonfat (A Thea Barlow Mystery, Book Two) Page 21

  He tightened the twist on my arm. I cried out.

  “Remember what I said about being stupid?”

  “In the garden,” I said, caving instantly, but that stuff was long gone, anyway.

  “That’s better. Just tell me what you know.”

  “He had jade buried in the garden at the old house.”

  “I know about that. I saw you dig it up.” He laughed again. “What’d you say to set him off? He sure whacked you a good one. Were you like Phoebe, wanting a piece of the pie?”

  “You were in the house,” I said, answers and questions bombarding me equally. “What did you do to the Kid? You took the jade I dug up.”

  “Of course I have the jade; do you think I’d let Corcoran con me? We had a deal and he ran out on me. Thought he could cut me out and get off with the whole haul himself. He picked the wrong man. Tell me now, we’re running out of time, where’s the big stuff? The boulders. The big money items. I’ve already got a buyer for that five-hundred-pound piece of Imperial.”

  “I’ve told you I don’t know. Why would he tell me where it is? He tried to kill me. I didn’t know he had anything other than what I dug up. Look, Garland,” I said, trying for reason, “this is silly. I don’t know anything, and what’s more, I don’t care what you do. You can plow up forty acres for all I care and take everything you find. Just turn me loose.”

  We both heard someone coming up the trail at the same time. He slapped a hand over my mouth before I could react, but it wasn’t a knight in shining armor, just Deefy returned and slightly out of breath.

  “About time,” Garland growled. “Get me something to tie her hands, and get that ‘dozer started up again.”

  Deefy came back with a roll of duct tape and Garland wrapped my wrists tightly together in front of me. Garland held up a silencing hand, and we heard a car approach. “That’ll be Trish,” he said. He tossed the tape to Deefy and went to meet the car. “Tape her mouth and feet if she gives you any trouble.”

  “She tell you where it’s at?” Deefy asked.

  “Not yet, but she will.” His confidence worried me.

  “You’re wasting your time. How can you be so sure it’s on the ranch? I certainly don’t know anything about it,” I said.

  “We know it’s out here,” Deefy said, “‘cause this is where the Kid told me to bring the ‘dozer. He hired me, said we’d split everything down the middle if I’d get the equipment and help him get the big stuff out.”

  Deefy eyed me warily, as if afraid I’d do something to force him into action.

  “I think you’re out of your league, Deefy. How did you get tied up with Caldwell?”

  “I was supposed to pick up the Kid at Racy Ladies tonight at eight-thirty. I waited, but he never showed. Me and Caldwell got to talking there, comparing notes, you might say.” He scratched his head as if bewildered as to how it had all come about himself. He didn’t seem to be too bright. “The Kid screwed us both,” he finally said.

  “How?” He turned away from me, not wanting to say anything more. But he seemed my best hope. “Come on, tell me. Maybe we can even help each other.”

  He brightened at that. “He and the Kid were supposed to be partners, but the Kid skipped out on him. Caldwell didn’t even know the Kid was an ex-con. Found out by reading a story in a paper.”

  Phoebe’s story. I found some grim humor in the thought of Garland Caldwell intending to do a helpless old man out of everything he had, only to find he’d been out-conned by the granddaddy of them all. What a blow to the ego.

  “Took him awhile to track the Kid here, but he did. He’s been watching him since. Caldwell told me he seen Corcoran digging up some jade this morning and followed him to an old sod house on the Ahchin place. That was jade he was supposed to share with me, and he was hiding it at the soddy.”

  “Do you think Caldwell’s going to do any better by you?”

  He shrugged. “Guys gotta make a living somehow. Money’s slim pickings around here anymore. When we got here tonight with the ‘dozer, he took it to the soddy first thing. Thought he’d find the big stuff there, but it wasn’t. I didn’t do no ‘dozing out there myself.”

  I got the distinct feeling that he was protecting himself from something.

  “He killed the Kid, didn’t he?” I felt certain there was no chance of finding the Kid alive now.

  “I don’t know nothing about that.”

  “Where do you think the Kid is, then?”

  “Caldwell said he skipped out again.”

  “You better start thinking about it. You might be next.”

  Trish and Garland walked slowly into view, deep in conversation. At sight of them Deefy rushed off in the other direction. I tried to think what my options were, or if I even had any. Most important, I had to find some way to get away.

  Deefy still seemed my best bet even if at the moment he was mired in denial. How could anyone with a pet fox not have a soft spot for another helpless creature? Very easily, most likely.

  Trish didn’t bother looking at me. Garland was issuing orders in a low voice, but I caught some of it. “Go straight to Rock Springs. Mail the boxes first thing, don’t wait until you get to Denver. I’ll meet you as soon as possible.” They wandered back toward where the Blazer must have been parked. With Garland’s back turned, I moved swiftly in the opposite direction, grabbing a chance to lose myself in the darkness. But Garland was instantly beside me. He punched my injured shoulder with a short, hard jab. I grunted in agony and dropped to my knees.

  The ‘dozer coughed, sputtered and came to life. Garland jerked me to my feet and pushed me forward.

  “I can’t help you, Garland,” I said through clenched teeth. “You’re the one being stupid now.” He cracked me across the face with the flat of his hand. I reeled with the blow. Shocking pain raced through my skull.

  He grabbed me by the hair, holding my face close to his. “Corcoran’s very words were this,” he said, giving my head a shake. My eyes went blooey, I couldn’t focus. “‘She knows; she’ll tell the police; finish her off.’ But I finished him off instead. He had the nerve to pull a knife on me. When I went back to where I dumped you, you were gone.”

  He kept shaking my head, emphasizing his words. His contorted face blurred in front of me. All I could think was, the King of Swords, the King of Swords. Here is the King of Swords. Sheila, I’ve found him, I wailed inwardly.

  He turned me loose and I dropped to the ground, cradling my head in my bound arms. The pain and dizziness receded, leaving a dull throb. I raised my head carefully, worried about the concussion. I needed all the power my poor brain could summon. My shoulder hurt worse than my head, which seemed like a good sign. I needed to think. I needed time. Max would come looking for me soon. I had to find a way to survive that long.

  Garland stood a few feet away watching the approach of the ‘dozer. My eyes were so accustomed to the darkness that I could see quite well. We’d moved away from the cluster of trees and suddenly I noticed a rounded hump of ground. The backside of the dugout. We were at the old homestead site. I got to my feet. Garland grabbed my shoulder and pushed me ahead of him into the clearing. Now I could see the faint shadow of the leaning barn, and in a flash of inspiration knew where the Kid had hidden his stash of “big stuff.” Or at least, I thought, it made a good enough story to keep Deefy and Garland occupied long enough that I might be able to get away. There was a risk that Garland would kill me as soon as I told him. I had to hope he’d be suspicious enough to wait for proof before getting rid of me. I had no doubt of his ultimate intent.

  I would have to run at the first opportunity, I thought, hide in the darkness. I couldn’t just tear across the open prairie. If I could find the soddy, it would offer some protection. I knew the general direction. I could follow the creek bed hidden by the heavy brush. I didn’t allow myself to consider how flimsy a plan it was, or how well I could run with my hands tied. No, I thought, pumping myself up, I could do this. He might be the
King of Swords, but I was the Queen. His worthy opponent.

  The ‘dozer lumbered into the clearing. Garland grabbed my shoulder. “Where?”

  I didn’t want to give in too easily, nor did I want to get hit again. I needed all my faculties. I looked at him sullenly. “Why should I tell you, since you’ll just kill me anyway?”

  “If you don’t tell me, I’ll make you wish I had.” He raised his fist.

  “Wait,” I said, swinging my arms up to protect myself. “All right. Don’t hit me again.” I gave him a dejected slump, hoping he’d think I was completely cowed. I jerked my head toward the old barn, its wooden frame listing nearly to the ground.

  He grabbed my chin. “It’s empty; I’ve looked in there, you fool.”

  “He worked them into the foundation, that’s why the damned barn’s falling down.”

  He stared at me. “Shit,” he muttered, “I should have thought of that myself.” He motioned to Deefy, who got off the ‘dozer and followed us to the barn. The boards creaked as Garland pulled at the flopping door.

  “To hell with this,” Garland said, “just doze this baby over, so we can get to the foundation.” Deefy ran back to his machine and roared forward.

  I tried to look around without being obvious. Garland still had a grip on my arm. I wanted to pick my spot, position myself for the easiest and most protected getaway. And it had to be soon, before Garland got the idea to bind my feet as well as my hands. The dry creek bed dropped off gradually behind a cluster of small evergreens to one side of the barn. Scraggly, but decently tall scrub and bushes lined both banks. I moved toward it, pretending to get out of the way of the ‘dozer. Garland stood close by me watching Deefy position the heavy blade against the boards and put on the power. The boards shimmied. Garland jumped.

  “Not that way, you fool,” he yelled, dropping my arm, “push them away from the interior.” Forgetting me, he ran to the ‘dozer, swearing a blue streak. I slipped behind a tree and down into the creek bed, running, scrabbling, bracing myself against the bank with my bound hands to help keep my balance, trying for as much distance as possible while I had the ‘dozer covering the noise I made.

  I negotiated three bends in the ravine, before silence reigned. I hugged the bank and burrowed into a bunch of scrub, pulling a tumbleweed over me. I couldn’t gauge the distance I’d covered, but felt sure I was beyond easy spotting. I buried my head in my arms, gasping for breath, waiting for my racing heart to slow. Silence dropped over me.

  I listened intently. In the far distance I could hear a vehicle of some kind. The road and Hildy’s rest area crew were tantalizingly close, but could I cross a couple of miles of open prairie without Garland catching me? Other noises, closer, were more disturbing. Garland searching stealthily? Or the wind rattling the weeds? I kept my head down and didn’t move.

  Then a shout, “It’s here!” Deefy, I thought, not too far away. Could I have been right? Was the jade really there? I prayed Garland would be torn between retrieving the jade and his need to find me. The ‘dozer started up again. I felt frozen in place, terrified of moving. Where was Garland? Cautiously, I uncovered myself and moved slowly away, expecting to be grabbed instantly. Nothing happened. I moved forward, again sticking close to the bank. If I could just get to the old soddy, I could reconnoiter. Plan what to do next. I moved more slowly now, working my wrists against the tape that bound them as I went, but with no success. Finally I stopped to rest again and chewed on the tape. It was tougher than rawhide and tasted vile. I had to move again. The respite was dandy, but I knew it was only that. Garland was like the duct tape, he wouldn’t let me go easily. I’d also reached the point where I had to know where I was. I inched my way up the bank and peered over the top. Nothing looked familiar. I had no idea where in the creek bed I was. I could see a dark blotch up ahead. How far? A football field? I couldn’t judge. Could it be the soddy, or just a small rise in the land? Did it matter as long as the direction was right?

  Doing nothing seemed like death, so I crawled out. If only I could get my hands undone. There was too much cactus around to try crawling, but I stuck to the shadows and kept low, moving awkwardly toward the dark lump. Fifty yards from whatever it was, I heard a truck start up. Behind me. My heart thumped. Garland. Had he seen me, or was he hunting randomly? I hunched over as far as I could and ran through the darkness.

  No lights, just the low rumble of noise coming closer and closer. I dodged behind the mound, stumbled on something and fell flat on my face. My lungs fought for air, every breath burned my throat. I didn’t care who was after me. I was done. I couldn’t move another inch. My chest heaved, the faint scent of putrescence touched my nostrils. Shakily, I rose to my knees and turned to see what I’d stumbled over.

  Twenty-Six

  A body lay sprawled face down a few feet from me. Pale light glimmered off the plastic oxygen hose wrapped tightly around the Kid’s neck. I’d stumbled over his oxygen carrier.

  I rose with a bone-deep weariness and stood over the body. The Kid had driven his jade here in the Bronco after knocking me out, probably to hide it again, so he wouldn’t have to share it with Deefy. Garland had followed him here and killed him. Undoubtedly the jade was in the boxes Trish would mail in Rock Springs.

  Garland hadn’t even bothered to dispose of the body. One of the Kid’s arms stretched out towards me, and at its fingertips lay a knife. The pig-sticker I’d seen the first day I met him. I twisted my bound hands as closely together as possible and clumsily picked the blade up by the handle. “Thank you,” I said, refusing to acknowledge the tears that threatened to close my throat.

  My sword, I thought triumphantly, wrapping my thumbs and a couple of fingers that reached around the handle as best I could. Not a solid grip, but better than nothing. A sound caught my attention. I froze. It seemed to come from the mound itself. The hair lifted on the back of my neck. I had turned to go inspect what was left of the bulldozed soddy when Garland Caldwell stepped out of the shadows.

  Neither of us said anything. The roar of the ‘dozer and squeal of the winch rang faintly in the distance. I braced my legs and held my arms low, hoping he couldn’t see the knife. The Kid’s body was between us. Caldwell would have to step over it to get to me. I backed up a few steps, giving myself plenty of room. Garland might win in the end, but I was prepared to do some damage.

  It happened so quickly, I didn’t have time to think. He made the step and I raised my arms, swinging them in an arc toward his neck. The knife sliced through the thin shirt at his shoulder, on to his neck and across his cheek and nose. He screamed with surprise and pain, covering his face with his hands. Blood coursed through his fingers. I ran like hell with no idea where I was going.

  “Thea,” a voice called like a disembodied spirit floating on the wind. “Thea.” I glanced around, but could see nothing but an animal of some kind. Terror filled me, but I couldn’t stop my forward motion, thinking only of balance, moving my feet across all the hazards. Gradually my pace slowed as my lungs gave out and my legs turned to jelly.

  A horse and rider passed by me and pulled to a halt. “Thea.” The horse spun and the rider slid off, arms and legs wind milling. “Shit!”

  I stopped, panting. Sheila Rides Horse sprawled on the ground. She rolled over and got to her feet. I backed away, looking behind me, skittish as a fawn. Garland was nowhere in sight, but the night was dark and the shadows still deep.

  “I heard you call me,” Sheila said. Her Indian dress was stained and bedraggled. “I was up at the fire. Nobody would give me a ride so, what the hell, I took this horse. I’ve fallen off five damn times.” She lifted my bound hands and took the knife from my fingers. “What happened?” she asked, slicing carefully through the tape. Tears of relief ran down my face when my hands broke loose. I wiped them away with the back of my hand.

  “That’s Clover,” I said dumbly, staring at the animal.

  “You found the King of Swords.”

  “Yes. We have to get help. Fas
t.”

  She seemed to sense I couldn’t talk about it yet. “Okay, let’s go. Do you know how to ride?”

  “No.”

  “Neither do I. Getting on is the worst part. I have to find a low spot.” She led Clover to a washout and he obligingly stood still for her to mount, her leather dress scrunched all the way up her thighs. “Come on, he won’t stand still forever. He pretty much does what he wants to do.”

  I climbed on behind her, holding the awesomely sharp knife carefully out to the side, but unwilling as yet to throw it away.

  “Here,” Sheila said, taking the knife from my hand. “I guarantee, we will fall off. You’ll kill us both with that thing.” She sliced a hunk of leather from the bottom of her dress, rolled the blade in it, and gave it back to me. I gripped the leather comfortably. She kicked her heels until the horse moved forward, increasing his pace to a fast, smooth motion that felt like flying. We clung to the horse’s rough back with our legs. Sheila had a firm hold on the halter rope and mane, while I clutched her back. We found the road and headed for Brocheck’s.

  We did well until headlights shone ahead of us. “Hang on,” Sheila yelled. “The stops are bad.”

  She pulled back on the rope and the horse skittered and slowed, tossing his head, twisting. We slid from one side to the other.

  “Hang on,” she cried again wrapping her arms around the horse’s neck. I slid to one side, but saved myself and scootched back on top. Finally, Clover stood still, tossing his head as if it had all been a wonderful game.

  Both doors of the pickup burst open. Max jumped from the driver’s side and Jimmy Chin from the other.

  “Hell, woman,” Jimmy bellowed, “what are you doing to my horse?”

  Sheila threw her arms up in a victory salute. “I didn’t fall off! We’re alive!” She turned to me with a big grin. “I guess I’m an Indian after all.”

  I hugged her, and held out my arms for Max to help me down. His face was dark and dangerous. He set my feet on the ground. But before he could speak I asked, “Did anyone find Buster?”