A Rancher's Vow Page 17

  Murders…how many had there been? Reed wondered. Reba, now Peter. What about Pa? And Tucker?

  Reed couldn’t voice the thought. He wouldn’t contemplate it, not when they’d just learned Pa could live to be ninety. And he didn’t want to put any more negativity into Alcina’s head about her own father, either. He prayed she was right, that Tucker and Emmett were together and safe.

  “So many different kinds of bad luck here,” she murmured. “How can we make sense of it all?”

  Reed handed her a packet of small Post-it notes. “Use one to make a notation for each incident and the date.”

  He himself cleared the desk and unrolled a map of the spread on it. As Alcina scribbled down the information, he placed the Post-it in the area where the bad luck had occurred. Soon, a pattern emerged.

  “Almost everything happened north of the house,” Alcina said. “Mostly in the northeast quadrant to be exact.”

  “Where the anthrax outbreak started it all…preventing any grazing in the immediate area…stopping anyone from even going through that part of the range in fear of picking up spores and spreading them. And then the other incidents worked their way out, turning our attention farther and farther away from the original target area.”

  “Which was…?”

  “The old silver mine.”

  LUNCH WAS a hurried affair. Afterward, Reed asked Felice to pack up some food for him.

  “I’m going looking for varmints,” he muttered.

  The first Alcina had heard of it!

  And when Moon-Eye showed up to collect sandwiches and drinks for himself and Frank, Reed asked him to saddle up a horse as soon as they finished eating.

  That’s when Alcina realized he meant to go without her.

  “Make that two horses, Moon-Eye.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Whoa!” Reed said, stopping Moon-Eye from leaving. “You’re not going, Alcina. You’ll stay here on the ranch with Felice.”

  “But I plan on being with you,” she sweetly insisted.

  “Don’t cross me on this, Alcina.”

  Aware that both the housekeeper and ranch hand were watching the exchange, Alcina said, “You haven’t seen cross…yet. Don’t try to go check out the mine area without me, Reed Quarrels.”

  “Or you’ll what?”

  “Follow you. I’ll tack up a horse myself. I do know how.”

  Reed cursed under his breath.

  Their gazes locked and Alcina was determined that she wouldn’t be the one to look away. Finally, Reed caved. Alcina recognized his expression of resignation.

  “Make that two horses, Moon-Eye,” he said.

  “Yes, sir.” The hand’s single good eye was sparkling.

  Alcina ignored the fact that they’d provided him with his afternoon’s entertainment. She had to make this right with her husband.

  She touched Reed’s shoulder. “Please, don’t be angry. I won’t hold you back. I promise.”

  “That’s not what I’m worried about.” He slid a thumb along her jawline. “I just don’t want to see anything else happen to you.”

  “Then you’ll want to keep me extra close. You won’t let anything happen to me, Reed, I know that. I’d trust you with my life.”

  An excitement she couldn’t quite put a finger on washed through Alcina. Her and Reed, riding out to the old mine together, looking for clues that would lead them to a murderer.

  She shook her head. It wouldn’t do to romanticize the situation.

  There was nothing romantic about murder.

  Then they went back to the office, where Reed sketched out a map—a blown-up version of the area they would search.

  “The Silver Springs Mine has played itself out twice that I know of,” he said. “What’s to say someone hadn’t found a new vein, just like our fathers and Noah Warner did more than forty years ago?”

  Alcina was wandering around the office aimlessly as they threw the idea around.

  “A new silver strike,” she mused. “Wouldn’t that be something? It could bring the town back to life again.” Something she desperately wanted to see happen.

  “More important, it could make the owner rich,” Reed said. He folded the sketched map and set it into an inner pocket of his sheepskin jacket. “Hmm, a potential owner desperate to get his hands on the mine…Would he be desperate enough to commit murder?”

  “People have killed for less.”

  Just then, the telephone rang and Reed answered.

  “Bart, what’s up?”

  As Reed had mostly a one-way conversation with his brother—Reed doing most of the listening and making sounds of agreement—Alcina focused on the wall to the left of the desk. Photographs, mounted and hung, depicted the old days when the mine and town both had been thriving.

  If only Main Street could be brought back to life like that, she thought.

  “So what do you want me to do?” Reed asked his brother, his tone stiff. “Uh-huh.”

  The central photograph had been taken in front of the mine entrance. The three partners posed together, arms up around each others’ shoulders. Emmett, the most commanding presence, stood in the middle. Her own father, more slightly built, and more elegant, to one side. And Noah, the obvious ladies’ man with his fair good looks, to the other. All were shaved and showered and dressed in Sunday finery.

  “But that’s another day gone by…yeah, all right!”

  Alcina glanced at Reed. He stood stiffly, his back to her, his free hand curled into a fist. As usual, he was letting his big brother run the show, whatever the show for that day might be.

  Feeling his frustration from across the desk, Alcina returned her focus to the photograph. Instinct made her wish for a more detailed view. Surely a man of Emmett’s years had a magnifying glass around here somewhere.

  She found a page magnifier in the first place she looked—the center desk drawer. Taking the photograph down from the wall, she set it on the desk and moved the light over it. She heard Reed hang up the phone just as she placed the magnifier over the photo.

  “What are you looking for?” he asked.

  “A connection…” Alcina’s mouth went dry when she found one on Noah, who apparently had been quite the dandy, with a penchant for fine jewelry. “There it is!”

  “What?”

  She tapped the magnifier. “Come here and take a look for yourself.” When he rounded the desk, she pointed to the spot. “Check out Noah’s stickpin.”

  Reed took a good look, then turned to her. “A triangular-shaped diamond.”

  “Probably the same trillion-cut that Reba found.”

  He double-checked. “Well, I’ll be…”

  “So what do you think it means?” she asked, excited by the discovery.

  “Hard to say. Noah Warner couldn’t have anything to do with what’s been going on around here—he’s long dead.”

  “How long?”

  “Since I was a kid. I remember hearing Pa talk about what a tragedy it was, but that he should have expected it.”

  “Expected what, exactly?”

  “I don’t have a clue.”

  “Yes, you do—right in front of you. Now, if only we could figure out how to make the connection from past to present, we might have ourselves a killer.”

  “We can speculate while we ride,” Reed said, his tone odd, as if he was keeping something from her. “I expect you need more than what you wore here today to keep you warm, though.”

  He was right. The long-sleeved turtleneck and sweater-jacket and thin leather gloves were fine for a quick trip in a heated vehicle, but out in the open, she would be cold, especially since the temperature was dropping again, and there was another threat of snow. Although the down vest and Stetson hat that Reed found for her were a bit big, they would keep her warm.

  And for extra protection, he added a heavy wool poncho to one of her saddlebags. Food and a flashlight already filled the other. They were ready to go.

  Reed rode out on a chestnut
gelding named Red Rock, while Alcina sat Feather, an Appaloosa mare.

  She waited until they were well on their way to the mine, following the trail above Silverado Creek, before asking, “So, what did Bart have to say? Was it about his job?”

  “No. He asked about Pa, for one, said he’d make another official report. He also got some information on the pager that was used to start the stable fire, but he expects me to sit on it until he gets home tomorrow afternoon,” Reed groused. “He wanted to warn me but he didn’t want me to screw up his case.”

  They were riding side-by-side, so close their legs occasionally brushed together.

  Together, a beautiful word.

  It was happening, Alcina thought. They were drawing closer in every way.

  “What kind of information?” she asked.

  “The plastic on the outside melted, the metal inside didn’t. The configuration of the boards and chips identified the manufacturer. This model turned out to be defective, the battery clip didn’t hold up, so only a few hundred were manufactured. Only a few dozen were shipped to this area.”

  Her pulse picked up. “And they know who bought them?”

  “Right. Because Bart went through legal channels, the lab got him a list of names and numbers, figuring he could have someone call and eliminate those in active service. But when he looked it over, Cardona jumped right out at him.”

  “My God, Cesar Cardona’s the one? Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I was thinking on it.” Reed sounded defensive. “Bart might be convinced, but I’m not. Too obvious. Why would a clever criminal use his own equipment when he can steal someone else’s?”

  “You do have a point,” Alcina conceded. “But what if he’s not so bright? Let’s just say the obvious might be right.” She wouldn’t say that Bart might be right since clearly Reed didn’t want his brother to best him yet again, even if detective work was more Bart’s area than Reed’s. “How would we tie Cardona back to Noah Warner?”

  “Not sure. Noah’s son, maybe? He’s the right age. Not the right coloring, though. Noah was married to a little blonde—I remember her hair was like spun silver. But according to Pa, women of all descriptions lined up to get a shot at him, and married or not, Noah liked his extracurricular activities.”

  “Last night, I asked Cardona if he ever lived in the area,” Alcina said. “He admitted he did for a few years, when he was a boy. And he does have a definite flare for dramatic clothing and jewelry like the Noah Warner in that photo. Do you remember at the wedding he was wearing a jeweled watch—maybe with a trillion-cut diamond in a loose setting, which would explain why he wasn’t wearing the watch last night.”

  “I didn’t look that close,” Reed admitted, still sounding underwhelmed.

  Alcina suspected Reed wanted it to be someone else—Vernon Martell, perhaps? Or would anyone do as long as it wasn’t Bart’s chief suspect?

  Couldn’t he see that the pieces of the puzzle fit together so neatly? Alcina wondered.

  Cardona…Noah’s illegitimate son?

  Not that she saw Noah in him. They were lightness and dark. Opposites. Cardona could look like his mother, though. And the last name could be hers. Or that of a stepfather.

  Stepfather…Now, why did that ring a bell? Alcina couldn’t pin the memory.

  What she did remember was Cardona saying he’d waited a long time to get what he deserved. Maybe he’d wanted more of an inheritance from his father than a diamond, as costly as that one obviously was.

  If it was Cardona, had he really found a new vein in the mine? she wondered. Or did he simply want what he thought was his due, worthless though it might be?

  They rode along in silence for a while. Alcina let Reed set the pace. He took the horses out into a comfortable lope, their long legs eating the distance to the mine. Then they slowed. The horses blew through their noses and she saw the slight clouds they made—warm air hitting cold.

  Perhaps this wasn’t the best moment to bring it up, but Alcina couldn’t get over the way Reed resisted Bart’s notion about Cardona being the one. It jibed with the way the brothers functioned together. Hmm, the word was dysfunctional. She knew something of that from her own family dynamics.

  Slightly behind, she goosed Feather to catch up with Red Rock.

  “Reed, about the thing you have with Bart…”

  He frowned at her. “Bart and I don’t have a thing.”

  “Of course you do. It’s like this silent competition that you always let him win.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Then you’re in deep denial, Reed, because everyone around you can see it. Chance half hated Bart when he came to live on the Curly-Q because—”

  “Chance loves Bart like I do. We’re brothers.”

  “There’s room for more than one emotion in the same heart. I remember how Chance was, a lot of times because of you. He was fighting your battles for you.”

  “I never asked him to. Besides, Bart’s the oldest. He’s the one Pa counts on.”

  “And you’re just as important. And as smart. And even better at some things than he is. Like running the ranch. Bart does good, Reed, but you’d do better and you’d love running it. Bart has the heart of a lawman and that’ll never change. Don’t let him ruin that for himself, Reed. Don’t ruin things for yourself. Speak up before it’s too late.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Don’t ruin things for yourself…speak up before it’s too late.

  Alcina’s words still echoed through Reed’s head even as they rode along. But he wasn’t just thinking about his running the ranch. Uppermost in his mind was the way he was cheating her of a real marriage.

  But would his speaking up about their marriage do anything but destroy the delicate fabric of the relationship they were now weaving?

  Reed was at odds with himself on the matter.

  He’d come to realize that Alcina was not only a lady with a heart of gold, but one with a will of iron and spirit he couldn’t define. She would do anything for someone she loved, he knew…He thought she would do anything for him.

  He would trust her with his life even as she would trust him with hers.

  Did that mean she loved him?

  The landscape had changed as they crossed the shallows of the creek toward the old mine site. They were heading for the entrance the back way, where no roads existed. Even the ranch trucks couldn’t come this far into the area where natural paths twisted through rocky foothills.

  “It’s starting to snow,” Alcina said.

  “So it is.”

  Flakes drifted down from a sheet-white sky, but Reed guessed it would be a while before their investigation was compromised.

  They emerged from a deep passage to a nearly flat area. Reed gazed hard over the acreage, eventually spotting what he’d been seeking—a definite sign of human trespass.

  He turned his mount. “This way.”

  Alcina followed, quickly coming up alongside him. “What is it?”

  He pointed to the area. “Take a good look for yourself.”

  “An opening in the ground.”

  “That’s one of the old stopes. After the mine was closed down, wooden traps were used to seal all the shafts to prevent anyone from accidentally taking a fast and perhaps fatal plunge down into the tunnels.”

  The wood had been split apart and the remains were scattered around the opening.

  “You don’t think someone went down there?”

  “Permanently? Doubtful. Anyone resourceful enough to get in there purposely for a look-see undoubtedly had the means to get himself back out again.”

  They rode on a hundred yards or so before Alcina said, “Look. The remains of a campfire.”

  Reed dismounted, registering anything that might indicate that someone had been out here recently. He pawed through the small pile of refuse—a few discarded cans and bits of paper and plastic from food. Nothing significant.

  When he rose, his boo
t nicked a loose stone.

  Or was it?

  Reed squatted to take a better look and picked up a small hunk of what turned out to be ore with shadings of silver and white and gray.

  “What?” Alcina asked, bending over next to him. “Is that what silver ore looks like?”

  “Nope. Dollars to doughnuts it’s molybdenum, which is used to make a type of steel. A valuable ore, actually. The big moly mine near Raton has been keeping a lot of men employed for years now.”

  Rising, he pocketed the sample.

  “So you think someone has been here recently?” Alcina asked.

  “Hard to tell. Nothing’s fresh. Let’s keep going to the mine entrance.”

  As they remounted, Reed checked the sky. The snow was coming faster now, so he pushed the horses accordingly. Within a few minutes, they came up over the mine entrance and the skeletal remains of several buildings.

  Reed scanned the area for any sign of a vehicle. All seemed deserted, a true ghost town. And it was beginning to look even more ghostly as a dusting of fresh snow already covered the ground and weather-ravaged roofs.

  “All clear,” he said, leading the way down to the entrance level.

  “Now what?” Alcina asked.

  “Now we get down and take a better look on foot.”

  “But what exactly are we looking for?”

  “Anything that would indicate recent activity.”

  They left the horses with reins draped over a piece of abandoned equipment halfway between the mine itself and the buildings that had been used for offices and ore processing.

  The mine was a small old-time operation. The mouth set into the side of the hill had been boarded up when the mine had gone bust.

  “Have you ever been inside?” Alcina asked.

  “Not since I was a kid and Bart and Chance and I decided to go exploring.”

  “Did Emmett ever find out?”

  “Yep, and Pa got wound up like a rattler. He yelled at us about how we’d fall down some stope and no one would ever find us again.”

  They reached the crusher, which had been used to smash the ore into smaller pieces. What was left of a broken-down and rusty conveyor led out from it to nowhere.