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“We’ve got trouble,” Laredo stated. “O’Rourke’s down there. He’s dead. A bullet hole in the back.”
Humming softly to herself, Jessy stood next to Trey’s chair and cut his pancake into bite-sized portions. He sat slumped in his chair and absently rubbed the sleep fr
om his eyes.
“I need more syrup, Mom,” Laura announced after taking the first bite of pancake.
“Are you sure? I think you’re sweet enough,” Jessy teased.
“I know, but the pancakes aren’t,” Laura explained patiently.
“Sorry.” Jessy bit back a smile and reached for the syrup bottle just as the phone rang. She stopped moving for a second, then went ahead and drizzled more syrup over Laura’s pancake. On the fourth ring, she picked up the receiver. “Calder Ranch.”
“Hi, Jessy. It’s Cat,” came the reply, issued in a voice riddled with tension.
Unconsciously Jessy tightened her grip on the phone, concern banishing some of that good mood she had felt. “What’s wrong?”
“Uncle Culley. That brown horse he always rides—when Logan stopped by the Shamrock this morning, the horse was at the barn. It was still wearing its saddle and bridle.” The disjointed phrasing as much as Cat’s voice indicated the elevated level of her concern. “Logan asked me to call. He wants to start a search.”
“I’ll call everybody in,” Jessy promised and reached for a pen and notepad. “Just tell me when to meet Logan and where.”
O’Rourke’s Shamrock Ranch was to be the starting point. The rendezvous time was nine-thirty, nearly two hours away. Logan planned to enlist Tara’s helicopter and pilot in an aerial search and asked that the Triple C plane take part in it as well.
By the time Jessy concluded her conversation with Cat, she had made a mental list of the contacts she needed to make, and their order. But she had no chance to make the first one as Laredo walked into the kitchen.
“There’s coffee in the pot. Help yourself.” Jessy waved a hand in the direction of the coffeepot, still holding the telephone receiver in the other.
“Whoever you are talking to, hang up. I have to make a call.”
Jessy was too distracted to notice the no-nonsense tone Laredo used. “You’ll have to wait. This is important.”
“Not as important as this.” He took the phone from her and pressed the disconnect button.
Recovering from her initial shock at his high-handed action, Jessy reached to take the phone back, demanding, “What are you doing?”
He easily checked her attempt and held her gaze. “It’s O’Rourke, Jess.” The gravity of his tone held a wealth of meaning.
Jessy drew back, stunned into an instant of silence. “Where? How?”
Laura’s petulant voice interrupted them. “Mommy, I need more syrup.”
Laredo threw the young pair at the table a grim look and hung up the phone. “I’ll make the call in the other room. They don’t need to hear this.” He moved off in the direction of the living room.
Jessy tarried long enough to dump more syrup on Laura’s pancakes and sit Trey up to his plate, admonishing him to eat. Then she joined Laredo in the living room.
He was already on the phone. “I’m calling from the Triple C. A body’s been found. It’s Culley O’Rourke.” He paused, his glance sliding to Jessy. “It looks like the cause of death will turn out to be a bullet hole. The buzzards have been at him, so it’s hard to say for certain.” After a second longer pause, Laredo replied, “After I determined he was dead, I left everything the way I found it.” More questions followed. “It’s in a remote area northwest of the Triple C headquarters. Have your men meet me here at the main house, and I’ll take them to the site.”
When he hung up, Jessy had trouble meeting his gaze. She felt sick inside, her muscles knotting up with disbelief and denial.
The necessity to remove any shred of doubt made her ask, “You are absolutely certain it was Culley. There isn’t any question at all in your mind?”
“None.”
“He was always such a tough old coot,” she murmured. “I thought the only way he would ever die was when his heart gave out. I didn’t think anything else could kill him.” She looked up. “You think Markham did it, don’t you?”
“I think it’s likely, especially if it turns out O’Rourke wasn’t shot at close range.”
“But why?” Jessy searched for a motive and came up with none. “What could Culley possibly know that would be harmful to Monte?”
