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MORGAN WEATHERBY, dressed in his Rudy Thornton disguise of wig and glasses, parked the rented sedan in the parking lot of the Verso, Montana, Best Western. Joselyn Jones had willingly agreed to meet him at the motel Friday night, where she would supply Morgan with Jason’s transfer information and he would provide her with an envelope of money and the promise of a good-time weekend. It hadn’t been hard to slip away from the TRO Ranch and Skeeter who was still nursing a hangover from the Days celebration.
Even though Morgan had only been in Eagle Landing one time dressed as Rudy Thornton, he didn’t want to take a chance of being seen a second time. Meeting in Two Rivers was also too risky. Most Eagle Landing residents traveled there each weekend for a Walmart run or to dine out or take in a movie. It was almost a given they would see someone Joselyn knew, and she would be eager to introduce her new younger male friend. Verso was ninety miles south of Two Rivers and one hundred and fifty from Eagle Landing.
Morgan had exchanged his suit slacks for dark jeans for a more casual look, but he still wore the suit jacket. Before exiting the car, he opened the glove box, took out an envelope of money, and slipped it into the inside breast pocket of the coat. He also put a small bottle of liquid and a pair of latex gloves into the right pocket of the jacket before locking up his Ruger.
Morgan booked a room for two nights and carried his small bag up the three flights of steps. He made sure no one was in the hallway before slipping on latex gloves and entering room 326. He hung the DO NOT DISTURB sign on the outside door handle. The curtains were pulled back, and he crossed the room to close them and turn on the desk lamp. The room temperature control was on the wall, and he dialed it down to sixty-five. The air conditioner kicked on with a blast of cold air. Morgan checked the bathroom to make sure the room had the two-person jetted tub he’d requested. He returned to the desk where his bag sat and unzipped it, taking out a bottle of Merlot, one wine glass, and a corkscrew.
After returning the bag to the car, he walked through the outside entrance into the Lariat Lounge. The bartender had just brought him a frosty mug of beer when Joselyn walked into the dim interior of the bar. She was dressed in a black leather miniskirt and high-heeled sandals, her tank top had a smattering of sequins across her braless breasts. She carried an oversized turquoise bag decorated with a large silver cross.
Morgan stood and pulled a chair out for her. “You shaved off your mustache,” Joselyn said after taking her seat.
Morgan waved at the bartender and held up two fingers. “Decided the ’stache just didn’t suit me.”
Joselyn crinkled up her nose. “I like the tickle of a mustache.”
Morgan shrugged his shoulders and smiled. “I hope you didn’t mind meeting me here. I just wanted our weekend to be private. No prying eyes from Eagle Landing. You know the saying—what happens in Verso, stays in Verso.”
She gave Morgan a wink as the bartender set two mugs of beer down. “I was so glad you suggested this.” She looked down at the frosty glass and drew her index finger through the condensation and then flicked her tongue across the tip. Looking at Morgan through mascara clumped lashes, she said, “I didn’t know if I was reading more into our phone conversations than just a business transaction.”
Morgan reached for her hand and said, “No, JJ. I feel a real connection with you. After our one meeting I couldn’t get you out of my head. And talking to you those times on the phone just made me want to see you again. I was just hoping you felt it too.” He gave her his best hangdog look. “I’d hoped the age difference wouldn’t be a problem for you.”
“Age is just a number. Shouldn’t dictate how people live their lives.”
After three more beers and a couple of shots, Morgan said, “I’ll be right back.” He walked up to the bar and slid a hundred-dollar bill across the counter to the bartender. “Give me ten minutes, then serve two glasses of Merlot, saying it’s on the house.” He returned to the table and touched Joselyn’s shoulder as he sat down. “I ordered a special bottle of wine to be delivered to our room. Let’s get our business out of the way.” He reached into his jacket pocket and slid the fat envelope across the table.
She opened her cavernous bag, dropped the envelope inside, and pulled a single sheet of folded paper out. “Here’s Jason’s transfer information.” Morgan scanned it quickly before slipping it into his inside breast pocket. “This is great.” He reached over and tucked a stray strand of bleach blonde hair behind her ear and brushed his lips across hers. “You’ve saved my job for sure.” Morgan sat back and rolled the small vial in his pocket between his fingers.
“Rudy, there’s something else that would be a really big story. It would make huge headlines.”
Pretending to be interested, Morgan sat forward. He had the information he’d come for—the date and federal prison Jason was being transferred to. The rest of his evening would be spent tying up loose ends.
Joselyn scrolled through her phone and tapped on the screen. She pushed the phone over to Morgan; the screen showed the profile of a man. The picture was blurry, making it hard to make out any features except for shoulder length black hair and a full beard. “Oops, screen went black,” Morgan said.
Joselyn pulled the phone back, muttering, “Stupid phones with their timeouts and security. I set up a password but wish I hadn’t. My old phone didn’t have one.”
“I can change the settings if you’d like.”
“Please do.” She handed the phone back, and Morgan held it so she couldn’t see what he was doing. He tapped the screen several times. “What’s your password?”
“1234.”
Morgan again tapped the screen and handed the phone back. “Who’s the scruffy-looking guy in the picture?”
“He’s FBI Special Agent Max Ryan.”
“And?” Morgan prodded Joselyn.
“He’s the one who actually found Jason Weatherby and the body of Wanda Gasby in the cabin on Dryhead Mountain.”
“What?” Morgan asked loudly. Lowering his voice, he said, “But Sheriff Connors testified at the trial he was the one who located the cabin and arrested Jason and brought him down off the mountain.”
“He lied.”
“Why would he do that?”
Joselyn drew in a shaky breath. “I could get into BIG trouble if Sheriff Connors ever finds out I told you this.”
Morgan scooted his chair closer to Joselyn and took her hand. “I can promise you no one will ever find out you told me anything. You’ll feel better getting if off your chest, even if I don’t use it in a story.”
Joselyn took a deep breath. “Things were so crazy at the sheriff’s office after it was discovered Wanda was missing—all these people crowding into the office wanting to volunteer, searchers coming and going all hours of the day and night. The sheriff was on my case all the time saying I wasn’t doing my job.” Her voice cracked a little. “I didn’t even know what my job was supposed to be for sure. It was the first time I’d been involved in a missing person case.
“Then when Jason was arrested, it got even crazier. I heard the sheriff boasting how he had captured the deviant. Recalling how he had found Wanda, dead, propped in the chair at the table with a plate of food in front of her. Hearing that made me sick to my stomach, and I needed a quiet place away from everyone. I went into the locker room and sat down against the cool wall in a dark corner. Then these two men came in and started talking. One was the sheriff, but I didn’t recognize the other voice. The sheriff said since Jason had declined a lawyer and signed a confession, it would be an open and shut case. He told the guy there was no need for him to blow his cover. I peeked around the lockers to see what the guy looked like and later took his picture as he was leaving the sheriff’s office. I asked around and found out he was FBI Special Agent Max Ryan. He was wrapping up an undercover operation in the area and had posed as a volunteer to search for Wanda.”
Morgan shook his head. “If this gets out, it’d be a mistrial. Jason could possibly go free.”
“I don’t know all the legal mumbo jumbo, but I know there would be big time problems if this information ever got out to the public.”
“Wow. This is so much to digest. And you are right, this will make BIG headlines. Would really be a coup for our website to break this story. Do you know where Ryan is now?”
“No. But it was the weirdest thing. I thought I saw him just a couple of days ago on the Fourth dancing with a red-headed woman at our Days celebration. But this guy was clean-shaven, and his hair was cut short.”
“Days?” Morgan asked, staying in the character of Rudy Thornton who wouldn’t know what Days refers to.
“Eagle Landing has a celebration on July Fourth called Eagle Landing Days. Us locals just call it Days. It’s a lot of fun. Maybe next year you can come and go with me?” she asked hopefully.
“I would love to. Sounds like a blast.”
The bartender brought two glasses of wine and set them on the table. “On the house,” he said before walking away.
“I’ve never been much of a wine drinker, but I’m game,” Joselyn said taking a gulp. Choking, she gasped, “Oh, that’s . . .” Eyes watering, she said, “I’ll be right back.”
Morgan watched until she was out of sight before he took the little bottle out of his pocket and unscrewed the lid. Holding Joselyn’s glass of wine underneath the table, he poured the contents into her glass, swirled it around, and set it back on the table.
After Joselyn returned, Morgan held up his wine glass, “Bottoms up.” He smiled as Joselyn drained her glass. “Here’s the room key—number 326—top floor away from elevators and stairs. Nice and quiet. You go on up to the room, and I’ll settle our bar tab.”
Joselyn stood up and swooned a bit. “Wow,” she giggled. “I’m feeling so relaxed.”
“JJ, you are going to have the most unforgettable weekend of your life.”
Morgan made sure no one else was in the hallway to witness him slipping into room 326. A blast of frigid air hit him when he entered the room. Joselyn sat on the bed with the spread wrapped around her. “It was really cold in here, so I turned the AC off,” she said. “I hope that’s okay with you.”
“Absolutely. It is kind of cool in here.” He walked over to the desk. “Darn. They only brought up one wine glass. Guess we’ll have to share, if you don’t mind.”
“Honestly, I don’t know if I want to drink any more wine. I’m feeling kind of weird.”
Ignoring her comment, Morgan walked into the bathroom. “Did you check out the tub?”
Joselyn came to stand in the bathroom doorway. Visibly shivering, she hugged herself. Morgan came to stand in front of her and reached out to rub her goosebumped arms. “Why don’t you try it out? A nice soak will warm you up.”
Joselyn tracked unsteadily as she walked over to sit on the edge of the tub. She turned on the water, saying, “There’s room for two.”
“I’ll get us some wine and join you,” Morgan said taking off his suit jacket.
Morgan waited until he heard the splash of Joselyn in the water before returning to the bathroom. “Rudy, I think something is wrong,” she slurred. “I can’t feel my arms.”
“I know. And soon you won’t feel anything,” he said as he pushed her head underneath the water.
It had just been luck that landed a bottle of ketamine in Morgan’s possession. He had been at the ranch headquarters loading fence supplies when Skeeter drove up to the utility shed. “Got Doc coming out this morning to castrate that two-year-old grullo. I’d ship that mean bastard off to the glue factory, but the boss likes his coloring.” Skeeter had shaken his head, saying, “Keep a damn hay burner around because you like his color. Maybe taking his nuts away will change his attitude. Know it sure would mine. I’ll have you stick around. I might need help getting him snubbed down.”
It had taken both Skeeter and Morgan to control the horse enough for the veterinarian to get an injection of the horse tranquilizer into him. When the horse was castrated and again standing on his feet, Skeeter had told the vet he wouldn’t mind having a couple of bottles of ketamine on hand. The veterinarian had balked about handing over the dangerous drug until Skeeter had played the Bryce Bentley card—“My boss wouldn’t care much for that answer. Guess we can start using the vet over in Two Rivers.” Reluctantly, the vet had handed over two vials. Skeeter had told Morgan to put them in the vet room and then get going on the north pasture fence. Only one bottle made it into the TRO Ranch veterinary supply room.
Morgan checked Joselyn for a pulse. Finding none, he quickly went to work staging the scene. After putting on latex gloves, he opened the bottle of wine and took it and the glass into the bathroom. He poured a small amount of wine in the glass and flushed the remainder of the bottle down the toilet, setting the bottle and glass on the floor beside the tub. Satisfied Joselyn’s death would look like accidental drowning due to overconsumption of alcohol, he carefully wiped down the bathroom surfaces.
Morgan returned to the bedroom and took his cell phone from the jacket pocket. The number he dialed was answered with a short bark, “What?”
“Rudy Thornton died.” The call to the techie geek would result in the deletion of any trace of the man known as Rudy Thornton. Morgan searched Joselyn’s oversized bag and retrieved the envelope of money and her cell phone. Shaking his head at the naivete of Joselyn handing over her password to him, he typed 1234 to unlock her phone. He studied the picture of Max Ryan. “You’re on notice Mr. FBI Man—I’m coming for you.”
