Heather took a lengthy look at Rance's one-ton Dodge Ram pickup. Although less than five years old, the diesel four-wheel-drive modern version of a work horse appeared battered and bruised. The green paint along the sides bore deep scratches. It looked as though the student body of an entire high school used keys in an act of vandalism. The windshield boasted a crack streaking like lightning from the inspection decal to where it ran out of real estate on the passenger’s side.
Both front doors slammed shut at the same time. Rance and Angelina wore boots, jeans, and clean t-shirts. It wasn't unusual to observe two young people dressed in similar attire, but they both carried themselves like adults, with chins slightly lowered and shoulders squared.
In an uncharacteristic move, Rance spoke first. "I didn't expect to see you two here. Did you swim?"
"Not quite," said Steve. "We rented a boat that's anchored on the sandbar."
"Perfect place to swim," said Angelina.
Heather cast her gaze to the gravel road that Rance and Angelina came from. "Aren't the gates locked and posted?"
Rance nodded. He'd traded his cowboy hat for a baseball cap branded with the name of a feed store in Llano. The t-shirt and cap gave him a more adolescent, carefree appearance. "I called the sheriff and got permission for Angelina and me to see if we could salvage anything. He said there might be some tack in the barn that isn't beyond repair."
"I need to search and make sure for Mama's sake," said Angelina. Her voice held a sharp edge.
"Take a stick to prod around with," said Heather. "There’s still some hot spots."
Angelina's brown eyes squinted. Heather waited for what she suspected was coming.
"We all know who's responsible for this. That shady lawyer came by the house this morning. He said the will was vague about who owned the land the cabin was built on and insinuated it already belonged to Mae. Then he said he wanted to help with some funeral expenses and avoid any legal complications Mama might have." She used air quotes to emphasize the words ‘legal complications.’ "He made no secret of telling us what a prestigious law firm he worked for and how they knew ways to get what they want."
She faced where her grandfather's cabin had stood, mere hours earlier. "First, they kill Mr. Charley. Then they kill my grandfather and now that snake has the gall to pressure Mama into selling with a ridiculous offer of a thousand dollars."
"That's all?" asked Heather. "What did your mother say?"
Angelina described the encounter as much with her hands as with words. "Mama never had a chance to say anything. I told him and Mae to get out and that he had some nerve talking business before we buried Grandfather."
"Good for you," said Steve. "Don't be in a rush. The land Hector’s cabin sits on is the key to their plan."
"What about you, Rance?" asked Heather. "Did Mr. Shaw contact you with an offer?"
"He tried. I was working cattle most of the day and ignored his calls after I listened to the first two voice messages."
"Will you sell to them?" asked Steve.
He shrugged. "I was thinking about giving it to Mae as a wedding present, but I'm having second thoughts." He glanced at wisps of smoke rising from the remains of the only home he'd ever known. "I'll stay mad for a day or two and then make a decision."
Angelina threw up her hands in frustration. She stomped off toward the cabin, mumbling in Spanish about how she hoped to send them a Hallmark card when they moved to their jail cells.
Rance watched her pick up a rock and throw it against the side of the barn. "She's got a bit of a temper," he said. Admiration, not condemnation, laced his words.
The trio allowed Angelina to get well out of sight. The smell of charred wood and the faint odor of gasoline gave the air a pungent smell. Steve asked, "Can you take us to the exact spot you found your father?"
"Sure. It’s right in front of the barn."
Heather allowed Steve to walk unaided as they strode three abreast across open ground. Rance stopped and said, “I know this is the right spot because there's a divot in the ground."
Steve bent his knees, shifted his cane to his left hand, and felt. "Was this always here?"
"Could have been, but I don’t remember it," said Rance.
Steve turned toward the barn. "Describe it to me, Rance."
"Simple pole barn with a loft on the front. The loft's gone now."
Heather asked, "Did the firefighters cut that opening over the doors?"
"That where a loading door used to be. We'd bring bales of hay to the barn on a trailer. We call 'em square bales, but they're rectangular. It was easy to load the top rows right into the loft. When we unloaded enough of them, we'd back the trailer into the barn and stack the bales from the back of the barn forward. It's hot, nasty work."
Heather noticed the setting sun. "Steve, if we don't want to be on the water in the dark, we need to leave."
"In a minute. Rance, this is going to be hard, but I need an answer. Did your father ever abuse Mae, other than beat her?"
Rance stuck his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans. "Wasn't like that. Pa would get drunk and use a belt on the oldest two. The whippings always took place in front of us other kids, and we couldn't turn our heads or make a sound. Then he'd leave and wouldn't come back for a day or two." Rance cast his gaze toward the cabin. "If that's all, I need to see if Angelina needs help."
Steve grabbed Heather' hand, a signal to not follow the young man.
With Angelina and Rance's voices in the distance, Steve said, "Say Charley's name."
"Charley Voss."
Steve squatted down with his hand in the indention. "Say it again. I want to be sure."
She complied. "What did you see?"
"Pink."
"Pink? What does that mean?"
"It means things just got more complicated."