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Restless and reluctant to go upstairs to an empty bedroom, she wandered into the den. “Did you have a chance to talk to Logan tonight?”
“Just for a few minutes. Long enough to learn he had nothing new to report,” Chase admitted.
“He mentioned that he alerted all the border guards to be on the lookout for Buck. He seems to think he might try to slip into Canada.”
Chase shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’m certain Buck is hiding out somewhere on the Triple C. He knows everybody will expect him to make a run for the border. He’ll lie low for a while until some of the heat is off. Then he’ll make his move.” But Chase didn’t think it would be north to Canada.
Caught by surprise, Jessy said, “You don’t really think he’s here on the ranch, do you?”
“I do,” he stated. “It’s the kind of clever plan he would come up with. But this time he has outsmarted himself.”
“But where?” Jessy looked at the yellow map on the wall for answers.
“That I don’t know,” Chase admitted. “But I intend to scour every inch of this ranch until I find him.”
“When?”
“After the funeral.”
On Sunday, private aircraft crowded the hangar area of the Triple C landing strip. The ranchyard itself was a parking lot for the multitude of vehicles that had brought a host of mourners to the graveside service. The huge turnout spoke both to the far-reaching power of the Calder name and to the esteem in which Ty was held by those who had known him.
It was standing room only in the small cemetery near the river. Folding chairs were provided only for the immediate family and the more distinguished mourners. Wearing a dress of unrelieved black, Jessy sat next to Chase, her tawny head bared to the sun. Laura sat quietly on her lap, fingering the petals of the red rose in her hand, entranced by their velvety texture. Chase held Trey, who had yet to fidget restlessly as if sensing the solemness of the occasion.
When the last murmured “Amen” faded to silence, Jessy lifted her head. Grief was locked deep inside, too private and too painful to share. Cat and her family were the first to rise and step to the bronze casket, gleaming in the sunlight. One by one, each of them laid a single red rose atop it. Chase touched a hand to her elbow, signaling it was their turn.
Her legs felt wooden beneath her when she stood, but Jessy managed to step up and laid her rose on it. Wordlessly she let her fingers trail over the casket in a farewell caress.
“Leave your rose for Daddy,” she murmured to Laura and held her forward, watching as she carefully placed it with the others.
Moving to the side, Jessy waited for Chase. Tight-lipped with pain but otherwise without expression, he deposited his rose with the rest. Without being told, Trey stretched forward and dropped his flower onto the casket.
“Bye-bye, Daddy.” His innocent voice rang out, clear and poignant.
For the first time in two days, Jessy choked up. Fighting back tears, she turned away and allowed Logan to draw her into their circle.
Other mourners filed past the gravesite. Those who had yet to speak personally to the family continued on to pay their respects. It was a moment before Jessy could no more than nod in a response.
Tara was among the last to approach the grave. Wearing a black hat, black veil, black dress, black gloves, and supported by her houseman Brownsmith, she made a tragic figure. Recalling Tara’s last display of hysteria, Jessy braced herself for another such exhibition of it. But it didn’t come.
Without a single audible sob, Tara placed something on the casket, but Jessy wasn’t able to see it until Tara moved out of the way. There, atop the bright red roses left by the family, lay a single Texas-yellow rose. In many ways, it was a galling sight, but Jessy refused to give rise to the anger she felt.
Just the same there was a bitter taste in her mouth when Tara paused before her. The black veil’s thick screen failed to conceal the haunted flatness of Tara’s eyes. The absence of their lively black gleam was a kind of shock.
“I know how deeply you grieve, Jessy,” Tara said in a lifeless voice that revealed her own pain. “I don’t know what role I played in his death, but I will wonder until the day I die whether Ty might still be alive if I hadn’t come back. I wanted him to hurt just as I hurt. But I didn’t want this. I swear I didn’t.” Giving Jessy no opportunity to reply, she turned to Chase. “I will use every means I have to see that his murderer is found.”
Then she was moving away, her place taken by the lieutenant governor and his wife. Others were lined up behind them. Jessy understood that this was all part of death’s ritual, but she was eager for it to be over even though it would almost be worse to be alone with her memories.
The line was still long when Jessy caught splashing sounds coming from the river, followed by the telltale pound and scrape of hooves climbing the bank. Curious, she glanced toward the deep shade of the cottonwoods along the bank as a slender rider scrambled out of the saddle and moved swiftly through the trees toward the cemetery. Jessy recognized Culley at once and wondered at his haste.
Although distracted by the next in line, she kept darting glances to keep track of Culley as he made his way toward Cat. Jessy knew instinctively that something was wrong or the shy man wouldn’t come anywhere near such a large gathering.
But it was Logan that Culley drew aside, said something to him, and pointed west. Jessy automatically glanced in the same direction. At first she saw nothing. Then she noticed the dark cloud band that hugged the far horizon. For a split second, she froze in alarm.
Turning, she reached to claim Chase’s attention. But she was too late. “Chase!” Ballard pushed his way to the front of the line. “Look! That’s smoke.”
It took only one look for Chase to confirm the sighting. He didn’t have to see the flames to know they were dealing with a grassfire, and a big one at that.
Immediately Chase began snapping out orders. “Stumpy, get the pumper truck manned. The rest of you, load up your trucks with every rake, shovel, and blanket you can lay your hands on, and fill up anything that can hold water.” He pushed Trey into Cat’s arms. “Notify the county, Logan. We’re going to need help.”
