Nothing turned up in the county court records regarding a murder or trial connected to the King ranch during that period. Nobody local reported missing. The trail was getting colder all the time.
Doc Ebenshaw called to say the bones had to be between seventy-five and one hundred years old. It was a man, all right, and he added a surprise. That third femur might belong to a woman, and he’d wager she was a young one. He’d be back in touch.
One morning Farmer was buttonholed by Roy Cullen on his way out of the office. Cullen had been Wayside’s only banker back in the old days. Retired now, he was still sharp in his late seventies, and after inquiring after Farmer’s family, he said, “I hear you’ve got a problem on your hands with those bones found out on the old King ranch.”
“Afraid I have,” Farmer said. “It all happened too long ago.”
“You know, I’ve been remembering some of the stories my Uncle John told me when I was a boy. He worked out there for years, you know. I recall a man named Murphy he told me about. Came through here about nineteen ten, nineteen fifteen, and hired on with Vern. Lots of fellas did that back then, worked a season or two and drifted on. Uncle John said Vern took to Murphy and pretty soon set him up as a kind of foreman. He was a good worker, Uncle John said, but slick as a snake. Some of the men thought he was stealing from Vern — tools, money, anything he could get his hands on — but no one said anything. They figured Vern deserved it. Well sir, one morning Murphy simply wasn’t around anymore. Vern said he’d moved on and that’s all there was to it. But my uncle always kind of wondered if Vern caught Murphy at his game and did away with him. Uncle John said Vern always swore he’d kill any man he caught cheating him and to hell with the law.”
“You don’t say,” Farmer said.
“It’s only a story, you understand.”
“Anyone know where this Murphy came from?”
“Not that I know. Things were different back then, Carroll. People could come and go and not leave a trace.”
“Doesn’t give me much to go on, does it?”
The older man smiled. “That’s a fact. But I thought I’d tell you, maybe set your mind at ease. Could be whoever those bones belong to, it isn’t to one of ours.”
“You know,” Farmer said, “I only remember the place when it was going downhill. Wish I’d seen it in its day.”
“It was a big operation. You had family out there, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, my great-grandma Berniece Dodd worked in the kitchen. Her little sister Callie did, too, until Callie left town. I never heard too much about it, though. Just that it was a hard life.”
Cullen nodded. “It was that. Vern was hard on everyone except Elizabeth, and he spoiled her to death. Gave that girl everything she wanted without batting an eye. Never gave her any common sense, though. After he died she didn’t have a notion as to how to run the place. I don’t know how many times I called her in to the bank and tried to give her advice on how to handle her money. This was when she was older and was letting the place go piece by piece. But Elizabeth never listened to anyone. Went her own way until it was all gone, and that’s why she’s where she is today.” Farmer said, “Somebody told me the man she married died young.”
“Wesley Burdette. It was common knowledge he married her for the money. Uncle John said she had her head set on marrying him, though, so I suppose old Vern took care of it. Wesley fell off a haywagon. He might have been a son-in-law but Vern saw to it that he earned his keep. They hadn’t been married but a year or so when it happened. Wagon ran over him and mashed him up pretty good. Paralyzed him from the neck down. He hung on a few years after, Elizabeth waiting on him hand and foot. Not a good way for a man to go. I don’t believe Elizabeth ever got over it.”
“Well,” the sheriff said, “thanks for telling me, Roy. Gives me something to go on.”
“You’re more than welcome.” Cullen smiled. “So are all these new people moving in for the auto plant keeping you busy?”
“Not too bad so far. I expect it’ll pick up.”
“I don’t like to see the old town change, do you? I kind of liked it the way it was.”
Farmer grinned. “I used to know every face I met. There was just us and that seemed right.”
“The price of progress,” the older man said.
“Yeah, right.”
He got a call on his car radio a few minutes later. Another skull had been found, crushed by heavy blows, several of them, it appeared. Also the remains of a pair of shoes, women’s shoes.
Raney was delighted with all the news. “I knew it! There’s a doomed romance somewhere. What if Elizabeth and this Murphy fell in love? But Vern wouldn’t allow it so he killed Murphy. Dad, we’ve got to find out!”
Her father cocked an eyebrow at her. “We? I don’t remember appointing you deputy, kid. This is my job.”
Raney shrugged it off. “I figure if I help you crack the case you’ll give me a medal or something. I’ll go over very big at school.” Farmer appealed to his wife. “ ‘Crack the case’? What are you teaching my daughter? Shouldn’t she be learning to bake cookies or something?”
Dee was deep in thought. “Two questions,” she said. “One, why weren’t the bones all together? Why were they spread out?”
“Slippage,” he told her. “Don Anderson explained that ground shifts some over long periods of time. But everything was found close enough together to indicate they were buried about the same place and about the same time.” He shot a grin at Raney. “What does that do to your doomed romance theory, hotshot? How does the woman figure in?”
“I haven’t figured that out yet,” she responded airily. “Give me time, I will.”
“Okay, second question,” Dee said. “Why bury them both in the fruit cellar? With all the open land on that ranch, why not somewhere away from the main buildings?”
“I thought of that,” Farmer said. “And I don’t have an answer. Maybe ‘open land’ is the key. That was a working spread, dug up and replanted all the time. Bodies might get uncovered. Even animals could do it. Who’s going to dig up a fruit cellar?”
Dee nodded. “Okay, I’ll buy that.”
“This is so great,” Raney beamed. “I wish I could tell someone. I know,” she added quickly as both parents opened their mouths. “I know I can’t. I just wish I could, that’s all.”
That night, in bed, Dee said, “You’d really like to solve this thing, wouldn’t you?”
“Sure I would. But I know I won’t. Nothing to go on. Just old stories and opinions.” He was quiet for a moment. “Maybe I shouldn’t have let Raney in on so much. Maybe she’s too young. Might leave a bad impression on her.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” she assured him. “She’s exposed to worse things in the movies and on TV. She doesn’t know those people, Carroll. And it happened so long ago. She’s just caught up in the mystery of it. Like solving a puzzle.”
He was almost asleep when she said, “Why don’t you talk to your mom about it? Maybe she remembers some of the stories handed down from Berniece.”
“I’ve been thinking about that. I’ve already heard them all, as far as I know, but I guess it’s worth a try.”