Chapter Ten

Herc was walking very slowly, limping along. He had long hair, so he didn’t notice the chill in the air, but he did notice the pain in his shoulder. Small drops of blood dripped occasionally onto the snow-covered ground. The snow was less than a quarter-inch deep, although there were deeper drifts from earlier snowfalls that he had to go around.

He had a good memory—by sight, by sound, and by smell. If he ever got near the man who had forcibly taken him and then turned him loose before shooting at him, he would remember. Although several shots had been fired, only one hit him. He’d been running and dodging, instinct telling him that he was in extreme danger.

That was past. He’d escaped with his life. Right now, what the big collie wanted was to find his master. Herc’s instincts told him he was much closer to the farm than to his home, and he was painfully working his way in the direction of the farm now.

He could not get over several obstacles since his ability to jump was badly impaired from his shoulder injury. So he’d had to steer around those obstacles, making the trek longer than it would normally have been. But not once did he fail to correct his direction of travel when he’d passed the obstacles, most of which were fences. Instinct directed him to the Brady farm.

He’d crossed a couple of roads. Once a car had stopped and someone had tried to approach him, but he’d bared his fangs and growled a clear warning. He was not about to let another stranger touch him after what the last one had done. The fellow had persisted for several minutes but had finally given up and driven off. Herc had resumed his arduous journey as soon as he felt safe again.

Herc became increasingly weaker as he limped along, but he finally was within sight of the farm, and he could hear two familiar voices; one was his master, and the other was the girl. He barked as loudly as he could, and then he started forward again, but after only a few more yards, his strength gave out, and he collapsed in a heap behind a large bush.

“Did you hear that, Melia?” Joe asked.

“Hear what?” she asked as she shoveled some manure into a wheelbarrow sitting just outside the barn door.

“A dog barked,” he said. “Look at your dog. He heard it. Ace, take us to the dog you heard. Come on, Melia. It might be Herc.”

“Then why isn’t he running to us?” she asked sensibly.

Ace was already moving in the direction the sound had come from. Melia and Joe propped their shovels against the wheelbarrow and followed Ace.

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s hurt . . . but I sure hope that’s not the case.” They had to run to keep up with Ace. He soon left them behind, but they were able to keep him in sight.

He had led them out of the farmyard, across the road, and into a large abandoned field on the other side. They had to go through an opening where years ago there must have been a gate. They dodged around clumps of brush and dead weeds, snowdrifts, and clumps of tall grass that stuck above shallow snow, still keeping Ace in sight. Then suddenly Ace stopped, looked back toward them, and began to bark.

Joe and Melia hurried as fast as they could, both of them gasping for air from their run. Joe, who was ahead of Melia despite the pain he was in, first spotted the yellow-and-white form on the ground, partially concealed by a large clump of brush. “It’s Herc,” he shouted over his shoulder and sprinted for all he was worth. Ace stood next to Herc and moaned as if in mourning. Herc was deathly silent and motionless.

Joe’s heart nearly stopped at the sight of his dog. He spotted the bloody shoulder, which frightened him, and he sank next to Herc in the snow, fearing that he had died since barking earlier. But when Joe touched his head, his beautiful dog shuddered and his eyes opened briefly before closing again.

“I’m here, old boy,” he sobbed just as Melia sank down next to him.

“Is he dead?” she asked between gasps for air.

“No, but he’s been shot.”

“Oh, Joe, I see the blood. This is horrible.”

“Do you have your grandpa’s vet’s number in your phone?” he asked. “I remember you called him about one of the horses a few weeks ago.”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure I saved it to my contacts,” she said as she stood up and reached for her phone.

“I’m going to pick him up and head back to the road,” Joe said.

Herc weighed about seventy pounds, and even though Joe was exhausted from running and weak because of the beating he’d taken in the jail, he got his arms around Herc and staggered to his feet. He had to catch his breath for a minute and then stood sucking in deep lungsful of cold air. He was aware of Melia talking on the phone as he finally started lugging his beloved canine friend toward the road. It was all he could do to carry him. His injuries were far from healed and hurt worse with each step he took. But he was not about to stop, no matter how bad the pain became. He had to save his dog.

Melia finished her call. “Joe, we’re supposed to take Herc to the vet as soon as we can. I’m going to call Grandpa and see if he can drive his truck so you can hold Herc. Or if he wants me to, I’ll drive it.”

“Thanks,” Joe said. “Or you can drive my truck. Oh, Melia, I hope he lives.”

“Me too. I’m praying for him, Joe. I know prayer helps,” she said.

“Thanks,” he said again. He wasn’t so sure about that prayer thing, but he decided that it couldn’t hurt. He’d never prayed in his life, but he did believe in God. So if God cared, maybe He would help Herc.

Bo and his partner had collected the contraband that Bryan and Belle had gathered up. There wasn’t much—just some much-used drug paraphernalia. After that was done, they’d once again begun to talk to the couple about Emil Eifler. They both denied knowing the man even though Bo had told them he knew this wasn’t the truth. They’d gone round and round for several minutes.

Finally Bo pulled out his phone. “Let me show you some pictures. Maybe this will help you remember. Tell me about the objects I show you.”

The first picture was of the pistol with the initials BB etched on it. Bryan looked at it and admitted in a whisper, “That’s my gun.” He hesitated, looking around the room like that might help him. Finally, he said, “It was stolen. Where did you find it?”

“You tell me,” Bo said.

“How would I know?” Another hesitation. His eyes met Bo’s. “Someone broke in here and took a bunch of our stuff a few days ago.”

“Were you able to give a complete list of what you were missing to the officer who came when you reported the theft?” Bo asked, watching as well as listening for Bryan’s reaction while glancing briefly at Belle’s face. They both had that deer-in-the-headlights look.

“Ah, we . . . we . . . didn’t report it,” Bryan stammered as he looked at Belle in what appeared to Bo to be a warning of some kind. It made Bo wonder if she was afraid of her husband.

“Yeah, we didn’t figure the cops could help us get it all back,” Belle chipped in with downcast eyes, finally getting herself together enough to back up her husband in his lies.

“What else was stolen?” Deputy Grizzel asked.

“Oh, just some jewelry and stuff,” Bryan said.

“Like this?” Bo said, showing them another picture.

“Yeah, that jewelry is mine,” Belle said. “Where did you find it?”

“It must have been pawned,” Bryan said. “I’ve heard that’s what thieves do with stuff like this when they steal it.”

“That’s often true,” Bo said. “But in this case, that hadn’t been done yet. Your drug supplier, Emil Eifler, still had it. We found it in a neat little pile in his house.”

Both Belle and Bryan gasped, and their eyes opened wide.

“We don’t know that guy, but . . . ah . . . apparently he must be a . . . a burglar,” Bryan said.

“Bryan, the game’s over,” Bo said sternly, staring hard at Bryan’s shifting eyes. “It’s time you stopped lying. We need help finding out who killed Emil. You both knew him well.” Then Bo decided to bluff a little. “Why would he have your names and address in his little black book, one he carried in the glove compartment of his car?”

This time, both of them went rather pale. Bryan cast another dark look at his wife, and then neither of them attempted an answer.

After letting them think about their situation for a full minute or more, Bo finally said, “Emil wanted to be paid, didn’t he? And you didn’t have the money to pay him, so he forced you to give him your gun, jewelry, and those other items we found in his house. That’s true, isn’t it?”

Bryan hung his head. “Okay, so yeah, we knew him. But he pulled a gun on us and threatened to kill us if we didn’t give him our stuff. He scared us. I can tell you that. He stole our property.”

Just then, Bo’s phone rang. He looked and saw that it was Joe’s number. “I need to take this,” he said. “Deputy Grizzel will stay with you while I step outside.” As soon as he had closed the door behind him, he answered the call. “Joe, what’s going on?”

“Herc has been shot,” Joe said in an emotional voice.

Bo gasped in alarm. “Is he alive?”

“Barely. We’re taking him to the vet right now. Ron’s driving us in his truck, and Melia and I are holding Herc.”

“Where did you find him?” Bo asked.

Joe explained. “If he dies, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“He won’t die,” Bo said, hoping he was right. “If he made it back to the ranch from wherever he was shot, it means he’s a fighter, that he wants to live. He won’t die. Have faith and let me know what happens. In fact, as soon as Jim and I finish what we’re doing, we’ll meet you. Do you have the address of the vet clinic?”

“Let me give the phone to Melia. She can tell you,” Joe said.

After speaking with Melia, Bo ended the call and went back in the house. “Deputy Grizzel and I need to go in a couple minutes. But before we do, we need to have you tell us where you both were on the night Emil was murdered.” He then recited the date.

“Why do you need to know that?” Bryan asked. “You’ve already got his killer in jail.”

“That was the wrong person. He’s free now,” Bo said. “So tell us where you were.”

“You don’t think we killed him, do you? We would never do something like that,” Bryan protested.

“Somebody did, and you guys sure had a reason to if he actually pulled a gun on you and robbed you like you say he did.”

“Okay, okay,” Bryan said. “We were right here at home watching TV until after midnight, and then we went to bed.”

“What would you say if we told you that we found your fingerprints at the house he was killed in?” Bo bluffed.

“No way, man,” Bryan said. “We didn’t kill him.”

“Tell me what you were doing and where this morning,” Bo said.

“I was home all morning,” Belle said. “Bryan was only gone for a little while. He went to see a friend.”

“What’s the name of the friend?” Bo pressed.

Belle got another dark look from her husband. “I don’t think this friend would want me telling you who he is. He likes his privacy.”

Bo and Jim glanced at each other.

“We will need the name of that friend whether he likes his privacy or not,” Bo said. “We will be getting back with you two. Don’t leave town. If you do, that will make us believe you really did kill Emil. And if you’re smart, you’ll tell us where you were this morning, Bryan.”

“What does it matter?” he asked.

“Take my word for it; it does matter,” Bo said ominously.

Bo and Jim left with Bryan continuing to proclaim his innocence and Belle looking like she was afraid, her skin moist and her eyes avoiding her husband’s.

“Bryan could be our killer,” Jim said when they were back in the county vehicle. “And his wife is scared to death of him.”

“Yeah, could be, and I could tell Belle was frightened,” Bo agreed. “Right now, we’ve got to get to a vet clinic. Joe’s dog was shot and is being taken there.”

“Where were you that night, Bryan?” Belle asked Bryan with a shaky voice as soon as the officers were in their car. “You told the officers we were here watching TV, but I was the only one here. You never did tell me where you went that night. For all I know, you killed Emil.”

Bryan’s face hardened. “You’d better watch what you’re saying, woman,” he said with burning eyes. “How many times have I told you that?”

“Or what, Bryan? You’ll beat me up again? I’m sick of it. I want to leave. I can’t stand what you do to me anymore,” she said foolishly, even as fear of her husband caused her stomach to clench. “I don’t care if you did kill Emil, but at least you can tell me the truth.”

“I didn’t kill Emil,” he said, barely holding his anger in check. He advanced toward her, and she backed away. She was very frightened now, but she was angry too and not backing down.

“Where were you this morning?” she asked. “And every other time you’ve never explained to me? You’ve been gone a lot, and you don’t even have a job, so where were you?”

“Belle, it’s best you don’t know. Just trust me. I’m not a killer,” he said with clenched fists.

“You know who Joe is, don’t you?” she asked, even as she began to feel the fear inside of her building.

“Yeah, so what?” he asked. “I’ve seen him a couple of times.”

For a moment, she said nothing more, but finally, she asked, “Do you know where he lives?”

“I don’t,” Bryan said as his face took on a rigid, angry look, one she’d seen before. She’d seen it just before the time she suspected he’d done something terrible to his own brother. That memory came flooding back. Bryan had told her to leave and not come back for an hour. She’d done that, and when she did come home, Bryan was gone. When he finally got home, she’d asked him where his brother had gone. He hadn’t answered, but she never saw the brother again. Nor did she ever again ask Bryan about him. She was afraid to. Bryan had told her never to mention his brother’s name again. She wished she’d left her husband then, but she didn’t have the courage.

That was two years ago. Belle had tried to tell herself that his brother had recovered from whatever Bryan had done to him and then left the area. Now, as she looked in dread at Bryan’s angry face, she had a feeling his brother was dead and no one but Bryan had any idea where his body was. She couldn’t deny it anymore. She should never have denied it, but fear of her husband controlled her life. Now, she was almost as sure that Bryan had killed Emil too.

Belle was suddenly deathly afraid of her husband, and she began to tremble. Sweat poured from her forehead into her eyes. She knew she had gone too far, and tried to back down as she lifted her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’m sure you didn’t kill Emil, but I sure wish you would tell me where you’ve been all these times you’ve been gone. That way I could help keep the cops away from you.”

“It’s not your business!” he shouted. Moving with amazing speed for a man as large as he was, he leaped forward and slammed a fist into her narrow face. Belle flew backward, hit the wall, then crumpled to the floor. “You need to learn to keep your mouth shut, woman, or you’ll be where my brother is.”

Bryan looked at his wife there on the floor. He wished she would just learn to keep her mouth shut. “Hey, Belle, get up!” he ordered angrily.

Belle did not respond. Bryan leaned over her. Blood was seeping from her mouth and soaking into the ancient carpet. As soon as Bryan could see her skinny chest slowly rise and fall, he stood back up. He felt the impulse to kick her as he had done before, but he fought it off. He didn’t have time to stick around. He’d deal with Belle later. She would learn to do as he told her or else! Right now, he had things to do. He hurried out the door, got in his car, and drove off.