Chapter Four

Melia was bouncing with energy and had run from the house when Joe pulled into the Brady farmyard. Herc bounded out of the truck and greeted Melia with enthusiasm, his tail wagging and his tongue hanging out. She knelt and petted him for a minute. When she stood up, he ran off to play with Ron’s dog, Ace. Melia hurried up to Joe but stopped and stared at him with concern. “Joe, what’s wrong?”

“Everything,” he said despondently.

“Ah, come on, Joe. It’s a pretty day. It can’t be that bad. Let’s go start our chores.” She smiled at him, that pretty, bright smile he’d come to admire. He tried to smile in return, but it didn’t go too well. Clearly, she noticed. “Joe, why don’t you tell me about whatever is bothering you. We can work while you talk and I listen.”

They worked, but he did not talk. Finally, Melia poked a fork in a bale of hay and faced him with a determined look on her face and her hands folded across her chest. “Please, Joe. Tell me what the problem is.”

He finally decided that he’d just as well. She would find out eventually anyway. “My cousin Bo and I went ice fishing yesterday,” he began, and then he remembered the fish in his truck. “Oh, I almost forgot. We caught a bunch of nice fish. The ones I caught are in the truck. I brought them in case you wanted to fry them for dinner sometime.”

“Hey, that would be great. I’ll do it for dinner tonight. Let’s bring them in the house,” she said with enthusiasm.

When they entered the house, Ron was in his recliner reading a book. “Hey, what do you guys have there?”

“Joe caught some fish yesterday. I’m going to fry them for dinner,” Melia said.

“That sounds like a mighty fine idea,” Ron said. “Just put them in the fridge for now, Melia.” He looked at Joe for a moment after Melia went into the kitchen. Joe was trying his best to look like everything was fine, but he just couldn’t quite manage. Ron didn’t miss it. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

“Oh, no. I’m okay.”

“You are not okay,” Melia said as she reentered the living room. “I’ve never seen you like this before. What’s going on? Please tell us. We’re your friends.”

Melia and Ron looked expectantly at him. He cared about both of them. In fact, he cared more about them than anyone in the world besides Bo and Rosina. He felt tears forming in his eyes but rubbed them away. He couldn’t cry in front of them. He just couldn’t. He had to be strong and face his troubles with some semblance of courage. “Maybe I’ll tell you at dinner,” he said, hoping to put it off.

“So are you saying that everything really isn’t okay?” Ron asked, his face creased with worry.

Joe shook his head. “We’d better get the work done, Melia. Ron’s animals won’t feed themselves.” He forced a grin that he didn’t feel.

Ron spoke again, and he did so quite sternly. “That can wait, Joe. Let’s all sit down and you can unload your troubles on Melia and me. We’re both good listeners, and we care about you a great deal.”

“Please, Joe,” Melia begged as she gently took hold of his arm and looked into his eyes. “Maybe we can help.”

“Nobody can help,” Joe said forcefully.

“Please, Joe, just tell us,” Ron begged.

“Okay,” Joe said finally. “But I’m warning you, it’s really bad. So Bo and I got home kind of late from ice fishing at Strawberry Reservoir last night. Bo dropped me off at my place and left. After he was gone, I discovered my house had been broken into.”

“Joe, that’s horrible!” Melia exclaimed.

“It gets worse,” Joe said. “Whoever it was got in by breaking some glass out of my back door and reaching in and unlocking it.”

“Your back door,” Melia said. “But wasn’t your dog back there?”

“He was, and he got Maced by the burglar, but he’s okay now. Anyway, I went in and looked around.”

“What was stolen?” Ron asked.

“Nothing, as far as I can tell. Anyway, to make a long story short, my cousin, Deputy Bo Buckley, came early this morning to check it out.”

“You slept there last night?” Melia asked. “I’d have been scared to death to stay there.”

“I didn’t really have anyplace else to go, and I kept my shotgun loaded beside my bed.”

“You could have come here. I have plenty of room in this big old house,” Ron said.

“I didn’t think about that. Plus, it was quite late, and I looked all through the house. It didn’t feel like there was any danger. So this morning, Bo came after he got on duty and looked through my house. He asked me what was in this large trunk in my spare bedroom. I’d only ever opened it once when I first moved in. There was nothing in it then, but Bo opened it and there . . . there was the . . . the dead body of a man in it,” Joe stuttered. “He’d been shot!”

Melia let out a little scream, and then clapped her hands over her cheeks. “Who was it?” she asked with wide, frightened eyes.

Joe thought about the lies he’d told Bo and then fessed up to. He couldn’t very well start lying again now, even if it meant Ron would fire him. He supposed that wouldn’t matter anyway because he was probably going to end up in prison. His stomach twisted at the thought. For a moment, he looked down, then he met Melia’s and Ron’s anxious gazes. “It was a guy I knew by the name of Emil Eifler. He was a drug pusher and was in trouble a lot. The cops are still at my place. I think they think I did it.”

“You would never do something like that,” Melia protested with alarm in her voice, her pretty blue eyes wide with distress.

“I wouldn’t and I didn’t, but I still think they think I did. I wish Bo had come in with me last night. Then they’d know it happened while he and I were fishing, but as it is, I think they are going to say that I killed him right after Bo dropped me off at home.”

“But I don’t understand. Why would they think you’d do that?” Melia asked.

“Maybe they think I caught him in my house and shot him,” Joe guessed.

“That would be self-defense,” Ron said.

“Only if I did it, which I didn’t.” What he didn’t say was that in the eyes of the law, he had motive and it was his pistol that was the murder weapon. He didn’t see any way he could avoid being locked up for murder.

They talked a little longer. Joe could see that both Ron and Melia believed him, and they also agreed that the cops might try to blame him. He decided he needed to tell them the rest of the story, as shameful as it was. He bucked up his courage and then said, “There’s more, and you’ll both hate me for it.”

“I don’t think so,” Melia said, her gaze glued to his face, her eyes full of warmth now. “So what else happened?”

“Well, this is horrible, but the reason I knew the guy who was killed—Emil Eifler—was because I’ve been buying some marijuana from him,” he said.

They both stared at him with blank faces.

“That is disappointing,” Ron said finally, “but I’m sure you want to quit using it.”

Melia just looked at him with narrowed eyes, the warmth they’d held a moment ago now gone. She looked angry, but then he was certain he saw a tiny bit of moisture in her eyes. She did not rub them; instead, she let a couple tears meander down her cheeks.

“I’ve already quit—for good—but I still owed Emil some money. He’d been pushing me to pay up. But I didn’t kill him, and I wouldn’t ever murder someone. Definitely not for something like that. I’m not that stupid for starters. I was thinking that I’d give him my shotgun to cover the debt. It’s worth more than I owed him, and that would have been the end of it. But I never got the chance.”

“Did the police search your house and truck?” Ron asked.

“They searched my truck before I left to come here, and they’re searching the house now, but they won’t find any drugs, because I don’t have any anymore.”

He thought about mentioning the two joints he’d thrown away that had been found and placed purposely in his truck, but he didn’t when he remembered that Bo had told him that detail would be just between the two of them.

“You will probably hate me now for being such an idiot,” he said with his eyes down.

“We’ll never hate you, Joe. We may be disappointed, but I, for one, will never hate you,” Ron said.

“I could never hate you, Joe,” Melia added.

“Joe, you have my support,” Ron said. “So you don’t need to worry about that. We all make mistakes, and when we change, we have to hope others will forgive us. I forgive you, so it’s done and over with as far as I’m concerned. Now you need to forgive yourself.”

“I forgive you too,” Melia said as she now rubbed the tears away. “We are still best friends, I promise.”

“Thank you both,” he said, “but I’m afraid I’ll still get arrested for a murder I didn’t commit.”

After a few minutes, Joe and Melia went outside and began working where they had left off earlier. They worked hard and with very little conversation, and when they did speak, it was only about matters that had to do with their work. A couple hours passed before Melia said to Joe, “I trust you, Joe, and I like you a lot. Grandpa and I will help you in any way we can.”

“Thanks, Melia. I like you too, but I don’t think there will be anything anyone can do for me. Someone killed Emil, and whoever it was made it look like I did it. I’m afraid they did a pretty good job of it.”

Melia cooked the fish early that evening. Joe had helped her a little by setting the table for the three of them, getting things they needed from the refrigerator, and handing her some salt and pepper when she asked for it. Melia, Joe, and Ron had just sat down at the table and said a blessing on the food when the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” Melia said, jumping up and leaving the kitchen. She returned a minute later, giving Joe a look of concern, trailed by two deputies, Detective Merianos and an officer who had been at Joe’s house but whose name Joe did not know.

Joe did not get to taste the fish that night. They arrested him, cuffed him, and hauled him away. The last he saw of Melia was her sobbing and Ron drawing an arm around her to console her.

The killer had been watching the officers at Joe’s house from a safe distance, and he followed them when they drove to the farm. He had smiled with satisfaction when he saw the officers haul Joe off in handcuffs. The frame-up he’d set had worked after all. It couldn’t have been better. Joe was the perfect victim for his frame. Joe would go to prison, and no one would be the wiser about what had really happened at Joe’s house. Emil Eifler got what he had coming to him, and Joe would pay for it. He left, feeling quite smug.

Lucas was relieved. He’d watched from a distant vantage point and saw Joe led from the farmhouse in handcuffs. Lucas was off the hook. He’d worried about being accused of the murder of a man he hated, but everything was okay now. Joe, someone else he hated, was being blamed, not him.

And yet . . . Lucas kept thinking about the real killer. That’s who should have been arrested, but he had no idea who the guy was. It had been too dark to get a very good look at him. It made him a little nervous to think that the man was getting away with murder. Who might he kill next? Would the guy come after him? Lucas didn’t think the guy had seen him, but he couldn’t be positive. The guy had no reason to come after him unless he’d seen him, Lucas told himself. But the very possibility made him shudder.

An hour later, Joe had been booked into Carbon County Jail for murder. When he asked to speak with Bo, he was told Bo had been taken off the case by the sheriff at the request of Detective Will Merianos because he was related to Joe but not for any other reason. He had a feeling that he had made Bo angry with Will, but Joe knew Bo could do nothing but accept the decision and keep his mouth shut.

Joe had worried about his collie dog, Herc, when he was first arrested, but Ron had promised to take care of him until he could get things straightened out and get out of jail. He was scared of the other inmates and got very little sleep that night. The next morning, he was taken in front of a judge and formally arraigned on the charge of homicide. An attorney was appointed to represent him, and he was taken back to his jail cell.

The attorney, Dylan Tokery, was a well-dressed man of medium height and weight in his early thirties with short black hair and brown eyes. He went to the jail and met with Joe immediately following the arraignment. The first thing he said to Joe when he sat down across from him was, “Joe, you must be totally honest with me. If you aren’t, I’m not sure I can help you. You say you didn’t do it, and I will try to prove that.”

“I didn’t kill that guy,” Joe affirmed desperately. “That’s the truth.”

“Tell me about the victim, Emil Eifler,” Mr. Tokery said. “Did you know him?”

Joe hung his head in shame. He was in jail and charged with killing Emil. He couldn’t see how it could get any worse. So he looked his attorney in the eyes. “Yes, I knew him. I used to buy marijuana from him. I told the officers that.”

“I’ve only had a chance to glance at the report, but I understand you didn’t have any of the marijuana or any other illegal drugs in your house, in your truck, or on your person,” Dylan said. “Is that right?”

“I had quit using, but I still owed Emil money,” Joe said. “I wanted to give him my shotgun. That would have more than paid him off. I despised the man.”

“Joe,” Dylan said sternly, “everything you tell me is confidential. From now on, you don’t speak with any of the officers without me being present. Do you understand that?”

“I do,” Joe said.

“Okay. By doing it that way, I can make sure you don’t slip up and tell them you despised the guy. They don’t need to know that,” Mr. Tokery said. “And I’ll make sure you don’t say anything else that might make you look guilty.”

“I understand,” Joe said.

“Okay, so let’s move on,” Dylan said. “I need to know everything you did over the past few days. I need to know who you saw, who you talked to, what you did, and where you went.”

Joe spent the next hour explaining his recent life to his attorney. When he had finished, Dylan said, “Okay, Joe, I believe you are innocent. Truly, I do. Now what I’ve got to do is prove it. I’ll warn you that it won’t be easy.”

“I understand that,” Joe said. “Is there any chance I can get out of jail before I have a trial?”

“I’ll work on that, Joe. I’ll try to get you released on bail. But I can’t promise anything,” his attorney said. “The prosecutor will try to convince the court that you’re a dangerous man and that you must be kept in jail in order to protect others. I’ll show the court that you have never been in trouble before and will stick around for your trial if it comes to that.”

“What do you mean by if it comes to that?” Joe asked.

“I mean that someone killed Mr. Eifler, and since it wasn’t you, that means it was someone else. If I can, I’ll find out who the real killer is, and if I succeed at that, you will never have to go to trial,” Tokery said.

“I don’t see how you can do that. He made it look pretty bad for me,” Joe said.

“Yes, he did, and it will be hard, but I’ll work on it. For now, you have to understand that it could be several days at the very least before we’ll know if the judge will set bail and, if so, how much. So plan to be patient, and whatever you do, stay out of trouble with other inmates.”

“I might spend the rest of my life in jail,” Joe said despondently.

“Not if I can help it,” Mr. Tokery said. He sounded both sincere and determined, but for some reason Joe couldn’t quite define, he wasn’t at all sure. For one thing, he didn’t see how Mr. Tokery could possibly find the real killer. He honestly didn’t think anyone could.

The killer had gone back to the farm and had begun to watch through his binoculars. He’d driven by Joe’s house earlier and noticed it was surrounded by yellow police tape, but Joe’s truck was gone, so even if he got out of jail, he wouldn’t be able to go in his house. But perhaps he would go to the farm. He might have already been released from jail and done so. Joe’s boss might be willing to pick him up at the jail and take him to the farm.

He did not want to watch the jail to see if Joe got out, for there were too many cops coming and going. So he settled in with his binoculars trained on the farmyard. He didn’t have to wait long before a young lady, the one he’d seen the day before, came out of the house and started feeding animals. Joe was not with her. So far so good.

Melia was exhausted as she went about doing the chores for her grandfather that morning. She had cried most of the night. Her grandfather had tried to comfort her, but it hadn’t worked—he was as sad as she was. They both liked Joe a lot, and they needed him on the farm. Melia was a hard worker, but there was no way she could do it all, and Ron tired very quickly. Joe’s dog needed him too. Herc stayed right with Melia while she worked as if she was the closest thing to a friend he had in Joe’s absence. He ignored Ace, Ron’s dog.

A white car pulled into the yard just as Melia was walking out of the barn with Herc at her side. She stood there and watched with a heavy heart as two young women in winter coats, both probably around her age or maybe a little older, got out and looked around. Then they spotted her and started walking in her direction. Herc ran toward them, jumping in excitement. One of them patted Herc’s head, and he writhed with joy. He clearly knew them. Melia stood where she was until they reached her.

“You must be Melia,” one of them said, an attractive girl with long chestnut hair and eyes that reminded her of Joe. She was a little shorter than Melia. “I’m Rosina Whalen, Joe’s sister,” she continued. “And this is my friend Karmen Ellison.”

The second girl was several inches taller than Melia and Rosina. She was also quite attractive. She had long brown hair and was slender and graceful. Melia took an instant liking to both of them. “Hey, it’s nice to meet you guys. I’m Melia Brady, Joe’s friend.”

“And his boss’s granddaughter, right?” Rosina asked with a smile.

“Yes, I am. And I don’t know what to say. Grandpa’s brokenhearted over what’s happened to your brother.” Melia choked up a little. “I am too. He’s a great guy.”

“Yes, he is,” Rosina agreed. “And I am very sad about what happened to him. So is our cousin, Bo. Can we talk to you for a little while? We’d like to talk to your grandfather too if it’s okay.”

“He’s in the house. He’s not in good health. I don’t know what he’s going to do—what either of us is going to do—if Joe doesn’t get out of jail real soon. We need him here,” Melia said, and to her dismay, tears started to trickle down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I thought I got cried out last night.”

“Me too,” Rosina said. “I’m shocked, but not for one second do I believe Joe killed that awful man. I am so angry at the cops; not Bo, but the others. They think he did this.” She balled her fists as she spoke, and her eyes flashed.

“Why don’t you guys come in the house where it’s warm? Grandpa doesn’t like to come out in the cold very much. It really bothers him,” Melia said.

Herc was still sticking with them, but it was clear to Melia that he knew and liked Rosina.

“Herc,” Rosina said, dropping to her knees and putting her arms around the big collie’s neck. For a moment, all her attention was on the dog. Melia petted Ron’s dog when he joined them. Then Rosina stood up. “I have no place to keep a dog.”

“Don’t worry, Rosina. Herc has a home with us as long as he needs one. He’ll be just fine. We’ll take good care of him.”

Ron stood up from his recliner when the three girls entered the house. “You must be Rosina, Joe’s sister,” he said to Rosina. “He talks about you a lot.”

“I hope it’s mostly good,” Rosina said.

Ron smiled. “Nothing but good. He’s very fond of you, and I am very fond of him. He’s become like a son to me. My late wife and I only had one child, Melia’s mother. Here, won’t you girls sit down? Could we get you a glass of water?”

“I’m fine,” Rosina said. “This is my friend Karmen Ellison.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Karmen said. “I don’t need water either.”

After they were all seated, Ron said, “So what can I do for you girls?”

“We’d actually like to know what we can do for you?” Rosina said with a sad smile. “Until Joe gets out of jail, you must need help.”

“I’ll do the best I can,” Melia said.

“Melia can’t do all that needs to be done by herself,” Ron said with a long face. “I have a lot of animals, and they require a lot of work. And I can’t do much anymore. I honestly don’t know what we’re going to do. I may have to hire someone else, and I don’t want to do that. Joe would be very hard to replace. I don’t like to even think that I may have to do that.”

“We are both in college right now and have part-time jobs, but we also have some free time since we are not actually carrying a full load at school. We were wondering if we could come out a few days a week and help out for a couple hours.”

“Oh, Rosina, you guys don’t have to do that,” Ron said.

“I know, but I’d like to. Joe is a wonderful brother, and well, I hope he won’t be in jail for very long. Karmen and I would like to help so you won’t have to hire someone else.”

“I appreciate that, Rosina. Maybe it would be okay for a while if you are sure you have time. Melia can show you what needs to be done.” Then he looked at Karmen. “Why would you want to help? Not that I don’t appreciate it.”

She smiled. “I’m dating Bo Buckley.”

“Oh, I see,” Ron said with a smile. “Joe thinks the world of him. He must be pretty shook up over what’s happened.”

“He’s devastated, and he’s angry,” Karmen said. “He knows that Joe is innocent, but he can’t convince the detective who’s in charge of the case to look at other possible suspects. Detective Merianos is very arrogant, and he’s also, in my opinion and Bo’s, power hungry, and he thrives on publicity. Anyway, the sheriff told Bo that he can’t have anything more to do with the case since Joe and Bo are cousins. That wouldn’t have happened if it hadn’t been for the detective. He didn’t want Bo involved at all. Bo knows Joe’s innocent. We know it too. So the question is what can anyone do to prove his innocence?”

For the next half hour, the three girls and Ron talked. There wasn’t much that Rosina and Karmen could tell them about what had happened at Joe’s house that Joe himself hadn’t already explained. Ron explained to the girls that Joe had opened up to them and admitted everything he’d done regarding the use of marijuana but adamantly denied killing Emil.

“Melia and I suspected before that he used marijuana, but he never told us about it. He says he’s through with it, and we believe him. He has our full trust and support.”

“Grandpa and I thought we could smell it on him sometimes,” Melia said. “I knew some kids in high school who smoked marijuana. I know the smell. But I know that Joe is telling the truth when he says he’s quit.”

“Bo and I suspected it too, and we’d been trying to figure out a way to tell him we knew and get him to admit it so we could help him, but that’s all moot now. So I guess that’s that,” Rosina said, rubbing at her eyes. “I’m going to visit him at the jail, and when I do, I’m sure he’ll admit this to me like he did to you guys. Then I can assure him that I will help him in any way I can. I also hope I can get him to tell me who might hate him bad enough to frame him for murder. He’s had to have had a run-in with someone, as unlikely as that seems. I need to get him to tell me since the detective on the case won’t even consider anyone else as a suspect.”

They talked a little longer, but then at last, Melia said, “You guys can stay and talk with Grandpa, but I need to get back to work.”

“We’ll help you,” Rosina said. “You just show us what to do.”

The man who had killed Emil right there in Joe’s house with a revolver he’d found in Joe’s bedroom had seen the two young women drive into the farmyard. He’d watched them enter the house with the other young woman. Then after around an hour, the three came out together and went to working around the corrals and in the barn.

He had no idea who they were, but when they left, so did he. He was able to follow them back into Price. One girl dropped the other one off at an apartment complex and then drove to a different one nearby, where she went inside. He memorized where each of them lived. He might not need to know that, but then again, it might be helpful at some point. He did not want them or anyone else to mess up his plans to see Joe pay for the murder of Emil Eifler so that he could get on with his own life without having to worry about the cops coming after him. Joe had made a perfect scapegoat.