Hawkins turned his head to the south. “That’s the Timberline Ranch that way,” he said, and a grin broke across his face. “Do you know the Overstreet sisters?”
McLanahan snorted from ten feet away and shook his head. “I know of them.”
“When they aren’t scratching each other’s eyes out or in court suing each other over something, they’re accusing me or rustlers of making off with some of their cows,” Hawkins said. “I bet the sheriff ’s been out here ten times over the years because one of those crazy Overstreet broads called and said they had cattle missing.”
“At least ten,” Barnum sighed. “Never found anything, and the sisters can’t produce records of any missing stock.”
The Timberline Ranch was the one for sale, Joe recalled. No wonder, he thought, if they couldn’t keep track of their cattle.
“So whatever they say is less than ... credible,” Hawkins said.
“If anybody saw a flying saucer up here it would have been them,” McLanahan said. “I’ll guarantee you that.”
“Shut up, please, Kyle,” Barnum said.
As Joe listened to the exchange, another question came to him. “Were there any vehicle tracks up here before the sheriff arrived?”
“Not that I could see.”
“What are you saying, that we messed up the crime scene?” Barnum asked.
“Not saying that at all.”
Even McLanahan glanced over his shoulder at Barnum.
“Well, you better not be,” Barnum said defensively. “This is my investigation and no one has requested you here.”
“The wounds are similar to my moose,” Joe said. “It’s likely the same thing. No predation, either, even though all that beef has just been sitting out here in plain sight.”
“That bothers me,” Hawkins said, shaking his head. “There’s just something real wrong with that. We should have knowed those cows were up here. There should have been big flocks of birds feeding on them. That’s how we usually find dead cows. And not one of these cattle has been fed on, or scattered.”
Joe had received calls from Don Hawkins the previous spring about mountain lions that had killed several calves. Joe had looked for the cats and not found them. When the calls stopped, he knew that Hawkins had found them. Nevertheless, the ranch was prime habitat for lions, coyotes, and black bears.
“Just like my moose,” Joe said. “Nothing will eat the meat. It makes you wonder why.”
“Tell you what,” Barnum said as he lit a cigarette and exhaled a blue cloud of smoke, “you worry about your moose and I’ll worry about Mr. Hawkins’s cows.”
“You’ve got jurisdiction,” said Joe. “You are correct.”
“So I guess you’re planning to talk with Juan then, as well as Bud Longbrake and the Overstreet sisters?”
“I know how to do my job, Pickett.”
Not that you’ve always done it before, Joe thought but didn’t say. But he knew Barnum was practically reading his thoughts.
“I sent tissue samples of the moose to the lab in Laramie,” Joe said, not mentioning where else he had sent them. “I asked that they expedite the analysis. When there are some results I’ll share them with you. You were going to get these cattle tested, weren’t you?”
Barnum’s eyes narrowed and he didn’t answer.
“Who is that?” McLanahan said, pointing down the road at an approaching vehicle.
They waited, watching, as an older pickup bucked and heaved up the washed-out road. Joe recognized her first. He had met her the winter before but couldn’t recall her name.
“Reporter,” Joe said. “Works for the Saddlestring Roundup. She must have been listening in on the scanner.”
“Damn it,” Barnum said, his face darkening. “I do not want this in the newspaper.”
“Too late,” McLanahan said.
“How in the hell are we going to explain this?” Barnum asked the sky. Joe wondered the same thing.
6
We’r e supposed to stay in my room,” Jessica Logue told Lucy Pickett and Hailey Bond. “My dad says we need to stay out of those old buildings out back. He says they’re unsafe for us to play in.”
Lucy and Hailey protested. One of the things the girls loved was exploring the old outbuildings in the thick trees behind the house. It was spooky back there, and dark.
“Can’t we play hide-and-seek?” Lucy asked.
“That’s what my dad said,” Jessica shrugged. “He said he’s afraid the buildings might collapse when we’re playing in them and he says he doesn’t have enough insurance if we get hurt.”
“Oooh,” Hailey said, widening her eyes. “Maybe the roofs will fall in and crush us. And there will be blood and guts all over, like those gophers that get squished on the highway . . .”
“Stop it, Hailey,” Jessica said. Hailey, who was dark-haired with big brown eyes, liked to talk about gore. She also liked scaring people. Lucy and Jessica had made her promise to stop hiding in the worst places out back and refusing to answer their calls. Several times, Lucy and Jessica were on the verge of panic when Hailey would suddenly jump out from a pile of lumber or from behind the door of an ancient shed and shout, “Now you die!” “There’s stuff we can do in here,” Jessica said, trying to make the best of it.
Yes there is, Lucy thought. Jessica had the best collection of cool old clothes she had ever seen. Both Lucy and Jessica loved to play dress-up in the old clothes, and loved applying makeup from an old makeup case Jessica’s mom had given her. Hailey sighed, but went along. Hailey, like Lucy’s older sister, Sheridan, seemed to think that the girl things Lucy and Jessica liked were boring. She would rather play hide-and-seek in the woods and scare the other girls. Just like something Sheridan would do.
The box of old clothes was wonderful, and the three girls plowed through it. There were formal ball gowns, high-heeled shoes, tiaras ( Jessica’s mom had once won the Miss Sunflower beauty contest as a girl in South Dakota), boas, bathrobes, and some men’s clothes.
Hailey unfolded a dark green set of surgeon’s scrubs with the name Logue stenciled over the breast pocket. “Are these your dad’s?” she asked.
“My uncle is a doctor,” Jessica said. “They used to be his.” “Is he still a doctor?”
“I think so,” Jessica said.
“Hey, this one’s pretty!” Lucy squealed, pulling a long, maroon velvet gown from the box. She felt the material and liked the lushness of it. And she liked the white fur trim of the collar. “This would look good on me with those shoes,” she said, pointing at a pair of spike heels.
“I want to go outside,” Hailey said, pouting. “Do you think you could ask your dad?”
“He’s not home yet,” Jessica said, fishing a small black hat with a net out of the bundle and putting it on. “I’ll ask him when he gets home, though.”
The three girls stood shoulder-to-shoulder at the mirror over Jessica’s dresser, their faces inches from the glass while they applied their makeup. They were dressed up; Hailey in the surgeon’s scrubs, Jessica in a white satin dress with fake pearls, Lucy in the velvet dress and spike heels and the Miss Sunflower sash hung across her chest.
Despite their giggling, they could hear an argument coming from downstairs, from the living room at the foot of the stairs.
“What are they fighting about?” Hailey whispered, leaning into mirror to apply the blush to her cheeks.
Jessica shrugged, “I don’t know.”
“Are you going to ask your dad if we can go outside?” “When we’re done. Lucy, you look beautiful.”
Lucy kissed at herself in the mirror, and the other girls laughed. Her lips were bright red with lipstick, and her eyelids were covered in blue shadow.
“Will your mom get mad if I wear her Miss Sunflower banner?” “I don’t think so. And it’s called a sash.”
Lucy was disconcerted by the loud voices from downstairs. It wasn’t like her parents never had an argument—they certainly did. There were times at dinner when she knew there had been a disagreement, by the silence, the lack of small talk, or the extra helping of politeness when one of them asked for the salt. But she hardly even heard them raise their voices to each other, even behind closed doors. Their arguments, whenever they occurred, happened someplace else or when no one else was home. Hearing the voices from downstairs, she thought it was better to argue away from the children.