Forty-Six

A knock on the door hard enough Arn thought it would break the hinges reverberated throughout the house. “I got it,” Danny called out.

“Guess that’s Little Jim coming from his interview,” Arn said.

“I’ll put a pot on,” Ana Maria said through clenched teeth. It was hard for her to talk with a swollen jaw and the two broken teeth that had to be extracted. Arn laid his hand on her shoulder. “Stay seated. I’ll make coffee.”

Danny led Little Jim into the kitchen. The man stopped in the doorway and grimaced as he checked out Ana Maria’s neck from different angles. “You and Jillie were about the same age. You need anything while you’re on the mend?”

Ana Maria smiled and winced. Her split lip was healing slower than it should. “I’m doing just fine, Mr. Reilly.”

“Coffee?” Arn asked.

“I shouldn’t,” he answered. “Darned bladder. But what the hell—I have a reason to celebrate.”

“Sergeant Slade called and said the interview proved you acted in your own defense,” Arn said.

Little Jim sat on a metal folding chair and the legs bowed. “Thanks.”

“For what?” Arn handed him a mug of coffee.

“For telling Slade it was probably self-defense even if you didn’t see what happened.”

Arn shrugged. “I just told him what I saw until I left with Ana Maria—that Campbell acted like he would try to get your gun if he had the chance.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Little Jim’s mouth. “I never thought a little feller like that would go for it.”

“And with a light trigger like most Colts have.” Arn shook his head. “A shame is what it is. Just a damned shame.”

“I talked with Wooly Hank and Pearly this morning,” Little Jim said. He wolfed down two cookies that Danny had set on the table and eyed the plate for another. “The Wool Growers Association voted to give you a bonus for catching the rustler.”

“Give Slade some credit,” Arn said. “He’s the one who coaxed the full confession from Bonnie.”

“Did I miss something while I was in the hospital?” Ana Marie asked out the side of her mouth. “’Cause if you’re hiding anything—”

Arn held up his hand and she stopped talking. “I know—I was going to tell you when I got the chance. Slade invited me to listen in on Bonnie’s interrogation. She gave a full confession to being the Midnight Sheepherder, and a witness to Jillie’s murder that night.”

“What did she do with the money she got from the stolen sheep?” Ana Maria asked. “Her place is so run down, I’m sure she didn’t spend a nickel on it.”

Arn dribbled cream into his coffee and stirred lightly. “Eddie. She was so in love with the guy, she blew her money on him. Remember the new pickup she bought for him? And whenever they went out of town, Bonnie would foot the bill.”

“She’s being charged with the thefts?”

Arn nodded. “She’s in a solitary cell in the county jail as we speak.”

Little Jim stood and grabbed the coffee pot for a refill. “Did she say why she fought with Jillie that night in the bar?”

“Bonnie needed an alibi,” Arn said. “By making a scene and getting 86’d from the Boot Hill, she could tell everyone that was her first step in bar-hopping that night, when instead she went directly to Wooly Hank’s after she picked up her truck and trailer. And Buckwheat.”

“So there was no guy who gave her a ride from the bar, or no accident she left unreported?” Ana Maria asked as she sipped her coffee with a straw.

“That was just a ploy to draw anyone away from her truck if they asked about it. The only thing she hit was that gate. She parked her truck back of the barn and tarped it, and Eddie let her use his beater truck.”

Little Jim chuckled. “Tight ass. Since she bought it, he should have let her use that new one.” He sat back down, and Arn thought the metal chair might collapse under the man’s weight. “Did Eddie Glass know about Bonnie’s rustling?” Little Jim asked.

Arn shook his head. “She kept it from him. Even in that, she loved him enough she didn’t want him to be an accessory.”

“And his wife knew nothing of Bonnie’s activities?

Arn sipped his coffee. Thank God Danny had gotten off that chicory kick. “She thought Eddie might be the Midnight Sheepherder. And she was willing to protect him at all costs.”

“But she’s still in hot water for trying to kill you?” Little Jim asked.

“I’m not so sure charges won’t be reduced.” Arn broke down and took another cookie. “As I was leaving the interview, Karen was waiting.”

“For her interview?” Ana Maria asked.

“For Slade,” Arn said. “Soon as she saw him, you’d have thought she was going on a prom date. All smiles for Slade. Hanging all over him. She mentioned something about going to lunch somewhere—just the two of them—to talk about her late Eddie.”

“Apparently she got over his murder,” Danny said.

Arn nodded. “A born opportunist.”

“Isn’t love grand,” Danny said. “If Slade doesn’t have his nuts handed to him—between that banshee Karen Glass and his own wife—I’ll be surprised.”

Little Jim smiled. “Guess the sheriff’s race doesn’t mean as much to the good sergeant as he thought.”

“Where’s Beverly fit into all this?” Ana Maria asked.

“She always protected her younger sister,” Arn explained. “Every time Bonnie got into some pinch, Beverly was there to smooth things over. When Slade and I talked with Beverly at the hospital, she finally admitted that she strongly suspected her sister was the Midnight Sheepherder.”

Arn grabbed the pot for another refill, but Little Jim waved it off. “I got work to do. Now that I’m doing it alone … ” He turned his head and swiped a calloused hand across his eyes. He started out of the kitchen when he stopped in the doorway and turned to Ana Maria. “Anytime you got a hankering to sit a saddle, Jillie’s horse would just fit you.”

“I can’t ride,” Ana Maria said.

“Sure you can. Let me and Jillie’s mare teach you. Once you’re mended up,” Little Jim said, and he left before they saw him cry.

“What do you think he means by that?” she asked after he’d left the house.

“I think with his daughter gone, the man is lonely,” Danny said.

Arn recalled Danny telling him how he’d lost his own son one night when the kid got drunk and fell to his death off Mt. Rushmore. “I think it would be good for you to spend some time with Little Jim,” he offered. He patted Ana Maria’s arm. “Looks like between Little Jim’s riding lessons and Beverly’s implement repairs—and the television reporting—you’re going to be mighty busy.”

“On top of replacing the dented transmission pan in your Oldsmobile from bottoming out in those damned ranch ruts.” Ana Maria forced a smile. “What the hell am I ever going to do with you?”