Steve surprised Heather by not wanting to go out for breakfast. His silence in the SUV on their drive to Llano meant he'd retreated into that secret place within himself where he did his deepest thinking. She pulled into a parking space in front of a newer building north of Llano with light-colored stone walls and a shiny metal roof. "I expected to see something that looked like a fort with bars on the windows. This is nice. The sheriff must have done some fancy talking to get a new building like this."
"Are we early?" asked Steve.
"Ten o'clock. Right on time."
"Let's see how much information we can swap with the sheriff."
Once settled, Steve inquired about the lawman's gout.
"Better." Sheriff Blake sat behind an aged wooden desk in an office bristling with plaques and photos. "One or two more days in house shoes and I should be back in boots. That's provided I keep eating right and drinking water like a five-pound bass."
Steve brought an ankle over a knee, looking like he was at home settling in to listen to a movie. "Yesterday, we changed our methods by speaking with the four Voss children individually."
The sheriff's head turned a single notch. "Did that help?"
"A little more productive and a lot less noisy."
The sheriff shifted his gaze to Heather. "I heard Sue Ann put Roy on the mat the day before yesterday."
Heather nodded while Steve said, "She rocked his world in more ways than one. He thinks he's lost his mo-jo. I knew gamblers were superstitious, but he's scared he'll lose his shirt in a game of wits with Mae."
"I guess you'll find out this afternoon when you read the second part of the will."
"That's something we need to talk about, Sheriff."
Heather pulled an envelope from her purse and slipped it in front of the sheriff. "This is a copy of the second part of the will. Sue Ann found it when she took inventory of the contents of Charley's ranch house. It came to us sealed."
Sheriff Blake's eyebrows lifted as he slipped out the single page and took his time reading it. He read it again and put it back in the envelope. "You say she found this in the house?"
"That's what she told us," said Steve.
After placing his reading glasses on his desk, the sheriff rubbed his temples. "I told Marvin to have the house searched from top to bottom. Those knuckleheads he assigned were to bag any documents that looked important or suspicious. I guess they didn't think a copy of a will mattered. Did Sue Ann take any more documents that you know of?"
Heather retrieved an envelope containing the Voss children's birth certificates and handed them across the desk. "If you don't object, I'll pass these out to each of the Voss children this afternoon."
The sheriff seemed to talk to himself with his next comments. "Don't see why not. I can get certified copies from the hospital if I need to." He tapped the envelope containing the birth certificates. "I need to send Marvin to Sue Ann's and see if she took anything else."
Steve played peacemaker. "Don't be too hard on him. He tried to delegate and homicides in this county are infrequent as eight-inch rains."
"Point taken. But crime scene training seems in order, don't you think?"
Steve nodded.
The sheriff winked at Heather and pointed to Steve. "You have more experience in homicide than anyone I know. You interested in training my deputies? I've got enough money to pay you for a couple of days."
The offer met a quick response. "I'm busy now, but we could talk about it after we solve these murders."
"It appears we're horse trading. So far, you've anted up information, a couple of documents, and a possible training session with my deputies. Is it my turn to put some chips on the table?"
Heather concluded the sheriff had played this game of trading information before. Steve got right to the point. "How was Charley killed?"
"Blunt force trauma to the back of the head. One blow with something flat and heavy. It dropped him where he stood, just outside the barn at his ranch."
"Did you recover the murder weapon?"
"Nope."
"Did the coroner give any clue what the weapon might be?"
"Flat and heavy was all he said in his report." He handed Heather a folder. "I figured you'd be asking for a copy of the report."
Not only had the sheriff played the game before, he knew Steve wouldn't have come without information to trade. "No transfer of trace materials?" asked Heather as she skimmed over the document.
The sheriff narrowed his gaze. "I know what you two are thinking, and it's a real head scratcher. How can something hit hard enough to fracture a skull and not leave microscopic traces?"
Steve asked, "Any tire tracks or footprints?"
The sheriff smiled like a patient grandfather. "It's been a hot, dry spring. Must be one of those weather patterns caused by the Pacific Ocean temperatures. Never can remember which one it is." He brought his thoughts back to the tracks. "Charley spent two full days lying there before Rance found him. It doesn't take much wind to wipe out tracks made on hard-scrabble ground."
The sheriff shifted in his chair. "What else do you have for me, Ms. McBlythe?"
It was her turn in the game of give and take. "In yesterday's meeting, Rance was eager to get out of the county and start fresh. Roy had to talk him out of a quick decision to give up any claim he had to the ranch. All Rance wanted was to sell his portion of the herd and leave. Roy convinced him to hold out for a better deal."
"You say Roy talked him out of it? That's not the Roy I know."
Steve added, "I told you he lost his lucky rabbit's foot when Sue Ann put him on the carpet. He wasn't mad that she hit him, but because he didn't read her and know the punch was coming."
The sheriff interlaced his fingers and placed his hands on his desk. "How do you think he's going to react when he hears the second part of the will?"
Steve brought his foot down from his knee. "I'm not sure how any of them will react." He chuckled. "I don't know how I'm going to react."
Heather asked, "Can you make sure Marvin is there?"
"Marvin and I will both be there. This’ll be something I'd pay money to see."
Steve lifted the tone of his voice. "What about Hector DeLeon? How was he killed?"
"Completely different. We don't have the autopsy results back, but I can tell you what it'll say. Two gunshots from a high caliber rifle. One in the leg and one in the chest. We found a blood trail from his cabin that ran all the way to the porch of the ranch house."
Steve scratched his chin. "If I remember correctly, Hector’s cabin is about forty yards north of the barn and nearest the lake. The house is fifty yards south of the barn."
"You have an excellent memory," said the sheriff. "The blood trail started outside Hector's front door. It went from there to the barn and on to the ranch house. We believe the first shot hit Hector in the leg. He limped his way to the front porch and turned. The second shot put him down."
Steve nodded as he spoke. "You can see Hector's cabin from the water. It's possible that the killer came by boat. It's even possible the first shot came from a boat."
"We think Hector might have been trying to get to one of Charley or Rance's rifles. We found the casing of a 30-30 by the barn. That's where we believe the second shot came from."
Heather noted that the conversation was like watching a tennis match. Each man took his turn and volleyed a piece of information or a theory. It was Steve's turn.
"If the killer was waiting for Hector, he might have broken into the ranch house, stolen the rifle and then used it to commit the crime. Of course, he could have brought his own rifle. You said a 30-30 casing? I'm guessing it was a saddle rifle. There's no shortage of those around."
"Where was Rance at the time of the murder?" asked Heather.
The sheriff went to a map of the county and pointed. "Says he was rounding up cattle on a small piece of property out toward Enchanted Rock. I think he's telling the truth. There were six head in the trailer hooked up to his truck when we found him at the ranch waiting for us. No witnesses yet to back up his story."
"What about the rest of the Voss children?"
"Roy says he sleeps until noon or later every day. Sue Ann was at home with the kids. Mae and Mr. Fancy Pants claim they were on their way from Austin to Horseshoe Bay and don't remember when they left or when they arrived."
It was the sheriff's turn to ask questions. "The will's not cut and dry. Do you know how you're going to handle it?"
“I'll award what I can today, but I'm going to hold off on the land."
"Mae won't like it."
"Neither will her lawyer," said Steve. "That's why I have Heather as a partner. She can come up with some legal excuse for me."
All three rose from their chairs. The sheriff gave Heather a nod. "Good luck this afternoon. I'll make sure there's no more bloodshed." He spoke to whoever wanted to answer. "What's your next step?"
Steve unfurled his cane. "We're going to pay our respects to Anna and Angelina."
"Speaking of," said the sheriff. "Marvin said he saw Rance's truck at their house last night. You know anything about Rance and Angelina getting friendly?"
"I doubt it," said Steve. "I think it's more a case of both of them caring for Hector."
Heather said nothing, but the sheriff's remark made her wonder. The more she thought about it, the more she thought there might be something between them.
"One thing about a town the size of Llano," said Heather. "It doesn't take long to get from one side of it to the other."
"They may crack five thousand residents in another twenty years, if they keep growing," said Steve. "Tell me about Anna’s home."
Heather shifted the transmission into park and cast her gaze to the dwelling. "The front has brick halfway up, but everything else is wood that's painted white. Plain tan roof shingles. It's a rectangle. I'm guessing they built it in the sixties or seventies. There's a one-car attached garage, and the driveway is gravel. No curb or gutter on the street. The grass in the yard is sparse, but looks better than the neighbors. I noticed a chain-link fence in the back."
Steve responded with a grunt and mumbled, "It's what I expected. How many cars are here?"
"The garage door is down, but there's one clunker in the driveway."
"Details, please."
"Fifteen-year-old light blue Ford Tempo with a creased left rear quarter panel and student parking decals on the back window."
"Angelina's car," said Steve. "Let's go."
Angelina opened the door and pushed back a storm door before Heather could speak. Hector's granddaughter had traded in her running shorts and tank top for a business casual look of white blouse and black slacks. Pulled back hair opened up her oval face, made even more attractive with judiciously applied makeup. Red lipstick showed off perfect Cupid's bow lips.
"I hope we're not intruding," said Heather. She led Steve inside and looked for a place to deposit him.
Angelina must have read her searching eyes. "Let's put Mr. Smiley in the green chair by my mother."
"Thanks for allowing us to come," said Steve. "I expected a sizeable crowd."
A voice with an accent answered, "We're between shifts, Mr. Smiley. If you'd been here thirty minutes ago, you'd still be waiting in the yard. I'm Anna Perez."
He gave the customary condolences for both himself and Heather.
"Thank you. I must still be in shock. It all seems so unreal."
Steve swallowed. "I know what it's like to lose someone you love."
It only took a handful of words, but something bonded between Steve and Anna. You couldn't see it, but the emotion of grief looked for someone who understood and latched on to the kindred spirit.
"You lost your wife, didn't you, Mr. Smiley?"
He gave his head a single nod. "Another senseless killing."
"I'm sorry. She must have been very special."
When Steve didn't answer, Angelina came to the rescue. "We have more food than the refrigerator can hold. Have you eaten?"
Steve spoke for both of them. "I'm saving myself for a place I heard about that serves giant barbecue park chops."
Angelina's laugh came without effort. "You mean Cooper's. I worked there when I was in high school. How about a cup of coffee and a slice of pecan pie to tide you over?"
"You have a customer," said Steve.
"Just coffee for me, and I'll help you," said Heather.
It was the size home where, if you were in the kitchen, you were also in the dining room and the living room. Privacy wasn't a problem, because there wasn't any until you reached the hallway leading to the bedrooms.
From the kitchen, Heather heard Steve speak. "Heather and I are trying to find out who killed your father. Are you up to answering some questions from strangers?"
"My Angelina has a good head on her shoulders. If she trusts you, I do too."
"Good. Tell me your fondest memory of your father," said Steve.
"Ah, that's easy. It was at the ranch. After a long day in the hottest part of the summer, Papa came home, and we walked to the lake and went swimming late in the afternoon. He looked so funny wearing his blue boxer underwear and cowboy boots. There's a sandy beach and a sandbar in front of that part of the property, and it's not far up a path to his cabin. I walked out what seemed like a long way in the lake, but it was still safe. Of course, he was always with me. Mama brought watermelon. It was simple, but I thought it was heaven."
"I can taste the melon," said Steve. "How old were you?"
"I must have been four or five at that time, but I remember we went a few times every summer.”
After several seconds, Steve said, "You don't have to tell me what happened between your parents, but it might help to talk about it," said Steve.
"There's not much to talk about. Papa lived at the ranch and Mama and I lived in town. Papa came to see me every weekend, and he never stopped giving Mama money. They seemed to get along, but it was never the same without Mama. She lived until I was out of high school. I married that same year."
"This is a tough question, but did your mother and father ever live together as man and wife?"
“I know what you mean, and the answer is no.”
"Did Hector still come see you after your mother died?"
"Almost every Sunday, unless there was a heavy rain that washed out the water gaps or the cattle broke down a fence."
"Did your father ever hit you?"
"I can only remember once. I was playing with a knife and he swatted my hand. I felt awful for upsetting him."
Steve rubbed a palm against his face. "I don't understand. Everyone we've talked to loved Hector. Can you think of anyone that had anything against him?"
"No, Mr. Smiley, I can't. Even Mr. Charley liked him, and he didn't like anything or anybody." She paused. "Perhaps he didn't like Papa as much as he respected him." She smiled, "Who am I to think such deep thoughts? I'm just a simple woman, not a psychologist."
Angelina delivered pie to Steve while Heather placed his cup of coffee on a table beside him. She took a seat on a dining room chair next to Steve. "Anna, did Hector leave a will?"
"Yes. I understand you're an attorney. I think I understand it, but could you read it and tell me if there's anything unusual about it?"
Angelina hustled down the hallway and soon returned with a hand-carved wooden box and a confession. "I hope I didn't get Rance in trouble. I called him yesterday and asked him to look around the cabin for any of Abuelo's papers. He brought this to me last night."
"Was the police tape still up?" asked Steve.
"Rance said it was. That's why I hope he won't get in trouble."
Heather asked, "Did you look inside the box?"
"It was locked, so I gave it to Mama."
Anna issued a mischievous smile. "It wasn't much of a lock."
Heather wondered how Steve wanted to play this. By all rights they should take the box to the sheriff, or at least call him and let him know what Rance had done.
"Is there anything else in the box the police need to know about?" asked Steve.
Anna didn't hesitate. "Nothing that concerns them. Ms. McBlythe is welcome to take the box and read everything."
Steve asked Angelina a leading question about her quest to become a CPA. Heather knew that would give him time to finish his pie and to weigh the pros and cons of not divulging Rance's misdemeanor to the police.
As they rose to leave, Steve said, "Anna, there's been enough heartache and grief. Hector would want you to have that box. Angelina’s our client and we hold what she says in confidence. As long as there’s nothing in the box that pertains to the murders, we won't tell the police about it."
"Thank you both," said Angelina. "Rance is a fine young man. I’d hate to see him get in trouble for doing a good deed."
Heather put Steve's hand on her shoulder. They thanked Anna and Angelina and walked into a hot midday sun.
"You're getting soft," whispered Heather.
"We need Rance at the meeting this afternoon, not being detained by some overzealous deputy. We can always tell the sheriff later if we have to."
"Were you serious about wanting barbecue for lunch?"
Steve didn't reply.
"Silly of me to ask. Where is this place?"
"Go to the intersection of highways 16 and 29. It's six blocks to the west down 29. If that's too complicated, I'll hang my head out the window and guide you by smell. I think I'm getting a whiff from here."
"You're going to outgrow everything you own."
"Speaking of, be sure to wear something you can move fast in to the meeting. I might need protection."
She didn’t know if he was kidding, or not. "Is there anything else we need to do before the meeting?"
"One stop on the way home. I have a job for you if the police have cleared out."
"This sounds like something that might get me arrested."
"When's the last time you heard of a lawyer going to jail?"