12
Rosebud parked the big, black limo in front of the ranch house at six o'clock Friday evening. Fat cows grazed in the pasture while the horses hung their heads over the corral looking for all the world like they were were saying, Welcome back. One even curled his lips and gave a friendly whinny. The sun, red and low in the sky, seemed to color the whole place a soft, peach color.
"My, isn't this peaceful," Biggie said. "Makes me miss the old days on the farm."
"Not me," I said. "I like living in town. It's too quiet out here."
Rosebud got out and came around the car to open the door for Biggie while I hopped out on the other side and ran up the gravel walk to ring the doorbell. Babe opened the door.
"Oh, it's you." She turned and walked away from us toward the bedrooms. "The others are in the great room," she said over her shoulder.
Abner Putnam stood up as we came into the living room. Laura sat on a leather chair near the fireplace holding a glass of wine, while Grace Higgins sat in a matching chair opposite her. Jeremy Polk, a drink in his hand, stood facing Laura in front of the mantel. Laura jumped to her feet and walked over to Biggie, hands outstretched.
"I'm so glad you're here," she said. "Rex has been asking for you all day." She hooked her arm through Biggie's. "Would you see him now? I know it's rude not to offer you a drink first, but he seems so very anxious to see you."
"Of course," Biggie said. "Does he want J.R., too?"
"Yes, absolutely. He insisted on that." She lowered her voice. "I'm afraid my poor sweet baby's not feeling well. I hope you'll understand if I ask you not to stay long."
She led us down the hall and opened the door to Rex's room. He looked smaller than he had two days ago, and his face was the color of wood ashes. Pillows on both sides kept him upright in his recliner, and I wondered if he might just tumble over like one of those round-bottom dolls if you took them away. After Laura closed the door behind her, he motioned us to come closer. Biggie pulled up a straight chair and sat facing him.
"What's happened to you?" she asked.
A smile tried to pass across his face. "That's my Fiona," he said. "You never did mince words, did you?"
Biggie shook her head impatiently. "In two days' time, honey, you've gone down quite a bit. Are you sick? Has the doctor seen you?"
He waved his big hand. "No, not that. I have days like this, dear. It comes and goes. Now listen, we haven't got much time before I have to take another dose of that dratted medicine. After that, I'll be as worthless as a canceled stamp."
I moved in closer so I could hear.
"I've changed my will to include young J.R. here. Fiona, I know you're a smart woman, so I'm counting on you not to let any of them pull a fast one. Understand?"
Biggie nodded. "Where is your will?"
He tried to turn in his chair and point toward the chest of drawers behind him, but the effort was too much. He slumped lower in his chair and shook his head. "It's in the—"
Just then someone knocked loudly on the door and Jeremy Polk came in. He nodded to us and walked across the room and stood in front of Rex. "Sorry to interrupt, friend, but I've got to get back to Dallas tonight. I just need a few minutes of your time— to finalize what we talked about earlier."
Rex looked irritated, but nodded. "Will you come back later?" His eyes pleaded with Biggie. "I'll put off the damned medicine somehow."
Biggie bent down and kissed the top of his head, and when she did, I saw a tear in her eye. "Sure we will."
When we got back to the living room it was dark outside. The deer horn chandelier over the couch cast weird shadows over the room. Babe was standing at a table against the wall that served as a bar pouring herself a big belt of whiskey while her husband, Rob, watched.
"That's my darling," he said, "a woman of lusty appetites."
Babe turned around, and if looks could kill, Rob would have been a dead man. She opened her mouth to speak, but then she glanced at me and snapped it shut.
"Where's Rosebud?" I asked.
"He went to the kitchen to have a beer with Abner," Grace Higgins said.
"I believe I'll go, too." I headed for the door.
"I want you to stay here with me." I could tell from Biggie's voice that it wasn't going to do any good to argue, so I sat beside her on the couch.
Laura spoke up. "Babe, honey, why don't you fix our guests a drink?"
"Sure. What'll you have?"
"I'll have a Big Red," I said, surprised to see that they had added two cans of my favorite soda to the other drinks on the table.
"Just a small glass of wine for me." Biggie sat down next to Laura. "What's wrong with Rex?" she asked, straight out.
Laura looked flustered. "Well, I… he woke up feeling poorly this morning. I thought he'd be better by now. He was so looking forward to your visit. If he's not better by morning, I'll call the doctor."
"He said something about his medicine." Biggie watched Laura over her wineglass. "What's he taking?"
"Well, he's diabetic, you know, so he has to take his insulin. Then, let me see, there's the heart medicine and painkillers. They make him a little confused…."
Just then the front door flew open and Stacie burst in. Her shirttail was half in and half out, her hair was sticking out all over her head, and her cheeks, red and blotchy, were tearstained.
"Why, Stacie darling." Laura half rose to her feet.
"Don't 'Stacie darling' me, you bitch." The girl's voice was hoarse and low. "I know who you are, remember?"
"Get a grip, kid." Babe weaved a little as she made her way to a chair. "Why don't you go back to the barn with the other cows?"
Stacie ignored her. "I've had it." Her voice rose. "I'm not staying here, and you can't make me."
"But, darling, where would you go?" Laura's voice was low.
"Stacie, stop it!" Grace rose to her feet and approached Stacie. "Stay out of this, Laura. I can handle it."
But she couldn't. Stacie made a horrible face as she grabbed Laura by the arm. Then I saw something shiny in her hand. It was a gun, and it was pointed at Laura's temple. For an instant everyone was too surprised to move.
Then Laura began speaking softly to Stacie. She spoke in a singsong voice. I couldn't make out the words, but it sounded a little like baby talk. After what seemed like a long time, Stacie's eyes softened and the hand holding the gun dropped to her side. Laura kept chanting while Grace slowly began edging her way toward them. Just as she got near enough to reach out and grab the gun, Stacie snapped out of it.
"No!" she shouted; and dragging Laura, she ran to a door, pulled it open, and disappeared into the next room, taking Laura with her. We heard the lock click into place.
"What is that room?" Biggie asked.
"Laura's study," Grace gasped. "We've got to get in there."
But before she had time to move, a shot rang out, then another, then a few moments later one more. Somebody screamed from behind the door.
It must have been five seconds before anybody moved. Biggie was the first to react. "Someone phone 911," she said. "I'll go find the men."
Just then the lights went out and the room turned black as a well digger's pocket. I sat there stunned until the tiniest bit of light entered the room. I could barely make out Biggie's figure against the window. Feeling my way across the room, I came and stood next to her. She had opened the drapes, letting in a little moonlight. We both watched as something moved out on the patio; then the lights came back on, and Abner Putnam entered followed by Rosebud.
"Nothing to be alarmed about," Abner said. "But I'd like to get my hands on the SOB who tripped the breaker switch. Most likely one of those gals playing a stunt. Hey, what's the matter with everybody?"
Grace pointed toward the closed door. "It's Stacie. She's locked herself in with Laura. Hurry! She's got a gun."
In unison, Abner and Rosebud approached the door. Abner knocked and called out, "Open up, Stacie. Now, I mean it!"
Silence.
"We've got to break it down," Rosebud said.
Abner nodded and together they prepared to ram the door with their shoulders. But at that moment, the door opened and Laura stood there holding the gun. Behind her, we could see Stacie crumpled on the floor.
"Oh, my God! Is she shot?" Grace tried to push past Laura.
"No, of course not. Nobody's shot." Laura turned back and knelt beside the girl. "She's just upset. Come on, honey, stand up now."
I stood in the doorway and watched the scene. The lamp on the desk made a splash of yellow on the polished wood. The walls were lined from floor to ceiling with bookcases all holding big, dull-looking books. A huge dictionary stand stood in one corner with an open book on it. The heavy brocade curtains moved slightly from the breeze outside. Stacie began to stir.
Between them, Laura and Grace got Stacie to her feet and brought her, sobbing, to the sofa.
"Somebody get her a glass of water," Grace ordered. "And get Laura something stronger."
Babe turned toward the drinks table but stopped when Jeremy Polk came in from the hall, his hands and face covered with blood.
"Call the police. Somebody killed Rex."