20

“What?” Hazen stared at his father as though he’d sided with the enemy.

“Apparently, Eric confessed to breaking into Dad’s place. He also says he was the gunman Jennie and Amber saw in the llama pasture.” Jeff fingered his daughter’s barrette. “He hasn’t confessed to Rick’s murder or to kidnapping Heather, but Sam seems to think a full confession is forthcoming.”

“That’s crazy.” Hazen exploded from his chair. “He’s using Eric as a scapegoat because he can’t—or won’t—arrest Danielson. Eric didn’t kill Rick. Rick killed himself. He—”

“Wait a minute,” Jeff interrupted. “What are you saying?”

Joseph stood as if to intervene.

Hazen sank back into his chair, pale and shaking. “I—I saw him, Dad.”

Joseph placed his hands on his grandson’s shoulders. “Go on, son.”

“I saw Rick throw something into the gas tank. He tried to run, but tripped. He meant to—to kill you.” Hazen covered his eyes with his hand.

Jeff’s dark eyes softened. “Why didn’t you speak up before now?”

“I couldn’t.” He jerked his hand away from his face. “If I’d acted quicker, maybe I could have saved you. I didn’t even yell at you to get out of the way.”

“So you blamed yourself. That’s why you left?”

Hazen nodded. “I figured Rick was working for Danielson. I’d seen them together and knew he was a militia member. I thought maybe if I could prove who did it and bring the creep in—”

Jeff ran both hands through his thick, dark hair. He was wearing it loose, Jennie noticed, like his father and his son.

“All right. Um—look, Jennie. I want to get your views on all this, but right now I need to talk to Hazen. You understand.”

“Sure.” Jennie felt relieved to be going. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to borrow a car and drive into Cottonwood to get this cast changed. It’s getting pretty rank.” She met Jeff’s gaze. “I—um—thought maybe I’d stop at the jail on the way and talk to Eric and run a couple of errands. That is if it’s okay with you.”

Jeff handed her the camera lens and barrette. “Maybe you could drop these off at the sheriff’s office—tell him what you told me. I’ll call and let him know you’re coming. We wouldn’t want to be cited for withholding evidence.”

“Okay.” Jennie took the items and started to leave.

Joseph stopped her at the door. “Would you like me to go with you?”

Jennie glanced back at Hazen and Jeff. “If you want, but I’ll be fine. It looks like those two need you more than I do right now. Oh, should I tell the sheriff about the mine?” She stopped, remembering Hazen didn’t know about the mine yet. “I mean, with Eric taking the pages out of the diary and all.”

“I don’t think we need to reveal its whereabouts just now. But tell him that Eric must have heard the old legend about the mine and was looking for a map. Only, to our knowledge, there is no map.” Joseph patted her shoulder and gave her a knowing smile.

“Mine?” Hazen’s confused gaze darted from Jennie to Joseph. “What mine?”

Jennie didn’t stick around to hear the explanation.

After a shower, clean clothes, and a quick hair-braiding session with Maggie and Amber, Jennie borrowed the white Jeep she’d ridden in when she’d first arrived. Since Maggie had called in to make an appointment for Jennie with Doctor Clark, their family doctor, the cast replacement went off without a hitch. Well, almost. Jennie had to listen to a half-hour lecture about what to do and what not to do when wearing a cast.

At eleven-thirty Jennie escaped the clinic and walked a block and a half up main street to the municipal building. Sheriff Mason rose to greet her when she entered. The office was actually one big room that held four desks and a high counter that stretched all the way across the room, separating the officers and their staff from the visitors. A half door at the far end provided the only access. A deputy sat at one desk, and a clerk—a woman in her forties whose nameplate read Sandy Mason—occupied another. The sheriff’s wife?

“Well, well, if it isn’t our little celebrity detective. Jeff White Cloud tells me you have some information for me.” Sheriff Mason walked to the counter and rested his elbows on it.

Jennie ignored his condescending smile and handed him the lens and Heather’s feather barrette. As she offered explanations, she almost wished she could find indisputable evidence to prove him wrong about Eric. That might knock him off his arrogant throne.

Only she had nothing at this point and Eric had confessed to the break-in. So, she offered up a quick prayer that Mason lose the next election.

When she’d finished her version of the break-in and Hazen’s discovery, the sheriff rubbed his chin and stared at something on the other side of the room. “So, Hazen found his sister’s barrette out at Jake’s hunting lodge.”

“Yes. I know he should have left it out there, but …”

“Somebody’s going through a lot of trouble to make Jake look bad. I’m beginning to wonder if your uncle is behind all this.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it? Jeff White Cloud has a long history as a political activist. Some of these guys will stop at nothing to get what they want. Just recently we’ve seen where some environmentalists have falsified records to sway public opinion. What better way to destroy your strongest political opponent than by discrediting him in the public’s eyes? Framing him for murder and kidnapping would do it, don’t you think?”

Jennie opened her mouth to respond, but couldn’t think of anything to say.

“You seem surprised. Well, little lady, maybe you’re not such a sharp detective after all. Don’t tell me you didn’t know your uncle plans to run for the State Senate against Danielson next year.”

“No, but that wouldn’t—”

“Since you’re intent on bein’ involved in this investigation, maybe you ought to get some of your facts straight. Go on over to the bank and talk to Alex Dayton. He’s your uncle’s biggest backer. ’Course he’ll probably pull out when he gets wind of my theory.”

Jennie stared at him. “You actually think my uncle caused an explosion that cost him a leg or that he kidnapped his own daughter?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time a criminal shot himself in the foot.”

Jennie pressed her lips together, deciding it might be better to keep her angry thoughts to herself. “May I visit Eric before I go, please?”

“Why?” he demanded.

“He’s my cousin’s boyfriend. He worked for my aunt and uncle. I’d like to ask him why he betrayed them like he did.”

He eyed her a moment, then apparently dismissed her as harmless. Either that or he suspected she might get something out of Eric that he hadn’t. “Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt.”

After searching her and walking her through a metal detector to make certain she wasn’t carrying a weapon or some sort of escape device, the deputy, a man in his mid-thirties whose name pin read Luke Nelson, led her into a small cubicle with a glass partition down the middle. She sat at a table and waited. Five minutes later, the sheriff hauled Eric in and shoved him into the chair.

Eric’s face contorted with pain. Jennie thought the rough handling unnecessary—especially when Eric had suffered a gunshot wound only yesterday.

“You got ten minutes,” Sheriff Mason said, then left the room. Deputy Nelson stood at the door, rigid and unsmiling.

“Hi.” Jennie leaned toward Eric and spoke into the speaker vent in the glass partition.

Eric stared at the table. He bore little resemblance to the handsome young photographer she’d met only a few days before. His unshaven face and messy hair made him look like a criminal. Maybe that’s because he is one, McGrady.

Jennie ignored her impressions, deciding she’d better get to the point. “I heard you confessed. Why did you break into Joseph’s cabin?”

Eric focused his hard blue gaze on her. “Why do you care? I admitted to doing it, isn’t that enough?”

“No. Heather has been kidnapped, but then you knew that, didn’t you?”

His gaze softened. “Yeah, I heard. Sheriff keeps telling me I did it.” He shook his head. “I’d never hurt Heather. I love her.”

“But you did break into her grandfather’s cabin.”

“I said I did. I was looking for something.”

“A map?”

“Yeah.” He frowned. “How did you know about that?”

“It doesn’t matter. What I want to know is why.”

Eric glared at her, then broke eye contact. “Heather told me about the mine. She wanted to find the map. I don’t know what she thought she’d do with it. Maybe take some of the gold with her to California. I told her I had mon—” His gaze darted back to Jennie.

He was lying. Heather didn’t know about the mine. At least Joseph hadn’t told her. And where would he have gotten the idea there was a map? “Where is Heather now?”

“I don’t know.”

“She was going to meet you yesterday morning.”

Eric closed his eyes. “I … she changed her mind. Said we should wait.”

“And you got mad. Where is she, Eric?”

“I don’t know, honest. I was going to leave as soon as I got my money—” He paused as if he’d said too much, then added, “… my paycheck from Mrs. White Cloud. I was out at Joseph’s when somebody snuck up on me. Hit me on the head—knocked me out. I don’t remember a thing until I woke up in the hospital.”

Jennie shook her head. “You’re saying someone knocked you out then shot you? That doesn’t make much sense to me.”

“That’s what happened.”

“The sheriff said you were the gunman Amber and I surprised in the llama pasture, and that you stole Danielson’s pickup then returned it later that evening. Is that true?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I was mad at Heather’s old man. Look, I wanted to get back at him for keeping Heather and me apart. Figured maybe he’d sell out if he had enough bad luck. Move back to New York.”

“Where did you get the gun?”

“Enough with the questions. You’re starting to sound like the sheriff.”

Jennie winced. She wasn’t sure what had gotten into her. She wasn’t usually so aggressive. But pieces of the puzzle were finally starting to slip into place.

“I’d just like some answers. You may love Heather, but you’re more in love with the money you stand to inherit if she marries you. But that wasn’t enough. Someone hired you to finish the job Rick Jenkins botched—to get the White Clouds to sell their land. Who might that be? Chad Elliot? Jake Danielson?”

“You’re way off base. That explosion happened before I got here. I’m not working for anybody.”

“I say you are and I’m going to keep digging until I find out who that is. What I don’t understand is your loyalty to this person. They’ve kidnapped Heather, for Pete’s sake, and shot you. If I were you I wouldn’t go to jail for someone else’s crimes. I’ll bet the prosecutor would be willing to cut a deal if you told them who’s behind this operation.” Jennie leaned back, rather pleased with her performance.

Eric shook his head. “Come off it. You’ve been watching too much television. The only people paying my wages are the White Clouds, so give it a rest.” Eric stood and signaled the deputy.

Jennie felt sorry for Eric. Someone was using him. She could see it in his eyes. “Always watch the eyes when you question people,” Gram had told her. “They say so much more than words.” Eric had expressive eyes. In their brief meeting he’d revealed his love for Heather, his guilt and shame for the crimes he’d committed. And fear. Part of what he’d told her had been the truth and part of it a lie. She needed to sort it all out.

The deputy ushered Jennie down the hall and through the office area. A well-dressed man in his late twenties was standing at the counter talking to Sally Mason. “You tell the sheriff I want to see him as soon as possible. I’m still staying at Marsha’s Bed & Breakfast.”

“You just missed him, Mr. Elliot,” Sally said. “I’ll let him know as soon as he comes in—unless it’s urgent—then I can get him on the cell phone.”

“No, it’ll wait.”

So this was the famous Chad Elliot. Funny, he didn’t look nearly as sinister as she’d pictured him. “Hello, Mr. Elliot.” Jennie walked through the half door to his side of the counter.

Elliot frowned. “Do I know you?”

“Jennie McGrady. I’m Maggie and Jeff White Cloud’s niece.”

“I remember hearing about you.” He smiled and opened the door, waited for her to exit, then stepped outside. “How’s your uncle doing? It’s a shame about his leg.”

“He’s better.” Jennie wished she could think of something intelligent and witty to say. Where do you fit into all this? she wanted to ask. “And what do you need to see the sheriff about?” The thought slipped out. Too late, Jennie snapped her mouth shut and must have turned a dozen shades of red.

“What did you say?”

“I was just curious about your wanting to see the sheriff, that’s all.”

“That’s none of your business.” His annoyance melted into concern. “Look, Miss McGrady—um Jennie. I know the White Clouds hold me responsible for the explosion and all that’s happened out at Dancing Waters, and now this kidnapping thing. I’ve had nothing to do with any of it.”

“How do you explain the ransom note in Eric’s pocket asking that Dancing Waters be deeded back over to you?”

Chad shook his head. “Do you honestly think I’d send a ransom note with my name on it? I do want the ranch back, but I fight my battles in court.”

And with hired hit men, Jennie thought. “Did you hire Eric Summers?”

“Who? Oh, you mean the man who was shot yesterday. Sorry. I’ve never met him. I know you think of me as an adversary, but I’m really a nice guy.”

That’s what they all say.

Elliot glanced at his watch. “Have you had lunch?”

“No. I was just going to grab a hamburger.”

“Then let me buy you one. There’s a place around the corner that serves buffalo burgers.”

“Buffalo?”

“You’ve never had it?”

“No.” Jennie winced. “And I’m not sure I want to. But I had ostrich the other day and loved it, so why not?” As they walked Jennie chided herself for accepting his offer. This guy could be dangerous, McGrady. She ignored the warning and excused her actions on the basis that Chad Elliot might have information pertinent to the investigation.

She just hoped he didn’t have anything more sinister on his mind than feeding her buffalo.