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“You don’t think it’s suspicious that Dixon Malone was never heard from again? While I believe your ex is alive and living in Miles City.”
Don’t remind me, Holden thought as Murdock considered his notes for a moment and said, “Lulabelle Braden McKenna. She didn’t disappear.”
Lulabelle wouldn’t disappear for love nor money. She planned to stick around just close enough to drop by occasionally to remind him of what a fool he’d been.
“I believe Dixon was the kind of man to disappear. More than likely he changed his name and has a whole different life.”
Murdock eyed him. “I thought you didn’t know Dixon.”
“It’s a small community. I heard rumors. But I’m curious. Who hired you to find him after all this time? Someone he owes money to? Or another wife he ran out on?”
“Actually, his daughter, Birdie Malone... I see from your surprise you weren’t aware he had a daughter.”
He shouldn’t have been surprised. “I’ve always suspected he had a past he was probably running from. But I do wonder why this daughter is interested in finding him now. Clearly, he ran out on her as well.” He narrowed his eyes at the PI. “I’m also curious why you so readily supplied the name of your client.”
“It’s no secret. She doesn’t mind people knowing that she hired me. Birdie came into some money and was finally able to afford a private investigator to look into her father’s alleged disappearance. She’s never believed that he left the Powder River Basin.”
Holden wondered about the woman and how she’d come into money. “Are you sure her father wasn’t the one to give her the money?”
“Grandmother left it to her.”
Holden wanted to ask if the PI knew that for a fact, but asked instead, “How old is this daughter?”
“Twenty-five.”
“So she was a child when Dixon left her—and his wife.”
“They were never officially married,” the PI said. “Birdie took her father’s last name.”
“Look, Mr. Murdock, it seems clear to me what kind of man Dixon Malone was. I seriously doubt he’s changed over the years.” Holden walked to the door. “I’m afraid that’s all the time I can give you since all I know about him is like you said, hearsay. Fortunately, I never spent any time around him.”
The PI slowly put away his notebook and pen. “Thank you for your time. I’m looking forward to speaking with Charlotte Stafford.”
“I doubt his ex knows anything that—”
“Not ex. Charlotte might have gone back to using her first husband’s name, but she and Dixon are still married. The marriage was never legally terminated. Don’t you think it’s odd that she never tried to divorce him or have him declared legally dead?”
“Not if she never planned to marry again.”
“Also, she went back to her first husband’s name quite quickly after he allegedly left. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, either, right?”
Holden smiled. “I’m sure you heard in town that Charlotte and I are rival landowners who don’t share confidences. But I suspect she wanted to put that particular mistake behind her.”
“Not just rival ranch owners,” Murdock said with a chuckle. “Former young lovers, I believe is what I was told about you and Charlotte. You married someone else, broke her heart and she promised to hate you forever. Nothing like a woman scorned, I believe people in the area say. Seems they blame you for making her into the kind of woman she is today.”
His first impulse was to take offense, to defend Lottie, the lover he betrayed and never got over. But he held his tongue, seeing that the PI was trying to get a rise out of him. “Let me show you to the door.”
Even as he did, though, he hated to think of what people in this river basin said about him and Lottie. Worse, this man was headed for the Stafford Ranch. “I doubt you’ll find Charlotte at home. You might have heard about her son’s injuries—”
“I guess you haven’t heard. She’s returned with her son.”
“That doesn’t mean she’ll want to talk to you about old history,” he said.
Murdock smiled. “No, I’m sure she won’t, especially if she has something to hide.” His smile said that wouldn’t stop him. “Interesting, the way you’re trying to protect her.” Holden began to close the door on the man, forcing him to move.
The moment the door shut, he was tempted to call and warn Charlotte. But good sense stopped him. It would be humiliating enough for her without him calling to make it worse. Sometimes he felt helpless. Maybe Treyton was right. Maybe he was too old and useless to be running the ranch.
As he looked up, Holly Jo came clunking down the stairs dressed in a skimpy top, jeans and pink cowboy boots. Her jeans appeared to have been in a dogfight. “Where do you think you’re going dressed like that?” he demanded of his new ward.
