Unlock the Truth

Chapter Twenty-One

With the blanket wrapped tight around her shoulders, Dena’s frozen body began to thaw.

“So, what happened exactly?” Zeke asked.

She shook her head. His voice sounded far away and she blinked hard, forcing herself to focus. He stroked the back of her hand. Now that the danger was over, she’d totally fallen apart. She wanted to cry, wanted her mother. And she wanted to yell at Zeke that she did so love her mother, but the voice wouldn’t come out because she knew if she did try to speak she’d end up in tears anyway.

She shuddered. She’d been so selfish and obsessed with solving the mystery of Carli’s death she’d barely given a thought to her own safety, or what her mother would do if she’d come to harm. To lose two daughters to murder was unthinkable. She shuddered again, drew the blanket tight.

The vision of what she’d seen in her bedroom flashed before her in slow motion. She thought of Carli again and felt weak. She tried to remember exactly what had happened. She moistened her lips. Heavy footsteps approached.

“The cops are coming,” she whispered. Her throat was parched. She needed a drink. “Wait…and I’ll tell everyone.”

“Sure. That’s smart,” Zeke said, and his voice was as croaky as hers. “Save your voice. You okay?”

Dena nodded and gave him a weak smile. She knew he was worried. And he’d said that he loved her, a stress response no doubt. She wouldn’t hold him to that later. “I won’t faint again.”

He patted her hand. “I’ll make you some tea once we all hear the story.”

Dena tried to smile again but her lips felt too tight. “Lovely, thank you.”

Stanton waddled toward her with his cop face on. “This here’s Deputy Ortiz,” Stanton said, and jerked his thumb toward the female officer. He gave Manny a quick once over.

Dena froze. He didn’t think Manny was guilty of this attack, surely? She noticed the glum expression on Zeke’s face.

“Young Manny filled me in on the walk down here, not that he knows much. Deputy Ortiz will cordon-off the crime scene, and she’ll do some preliminary investigations.”

A couple of firemen came over. One shook Stanton’s hand and conversed in a low voice. Ortiz strode toward the casita. Stanton came back and pulled out his notebook.

“Dena, I’ll take your statement in private,” Stanton said, looking from Zeke to Manny.

“No, I want them here,” Dena said. “I need them here, and I haven’t told them anything yet. The fire…there wasn’t time.”

“A man tried to murder you,” Stanton said, standing legs spread wide. “We have two men here who were both on the premises at the time. I have to take a statement from each of you, in private, and—”

“Stanton,” Deputy Ortiz called out. She strode out of the casita and leaned against the pool fence. “I’ve got a good footprint here in the garden, looks like the bulb was taken out of the security light. Whoever it was wanted her good and dead. You should see the knife wounds on the pillow.”

Dena tensed. Zeke tightened his grip on her hand, his face pained, but he said nothing.

“It’s a bit risky to go inside the bedroom,” Ortiz said. “Most of the back wall is gone. Roof could give way.”

“Okay,” Stanton said. “Take photographs. We’ll check it out again in daylight. See what you can find in the front room.”

Stanton turned back to them. “We’ll go on up to the house.” He rubbed at his forearms. “It’s too cold out here. Dena, I’ll take your statement first.”

Dena couldn’t look at anyone. Someone had tried to kill her. She trudged up to the verandah, the blanket wrapped tight. Zeke opened the kitchen screen door, and she held back a moment, allowing Stanton and Manny to go ahead of her. She owed him this.

“Susie Q. is missing,” she said softly.

“What?”

“She wasn’t in the stables when I let the horses out.”

Zeke tilted his head. “Interesting, thanks.”

He ushered her inside. “Use my office,” he said loudly to Stanton. “Or, better still, you two go to the living room. Manny and I will wait in the kitchen.”

“Don’t leave the premises,” Stanton said, and glared at Manny. “You’re off the hook with the other case. Alibi checked out.”

“Thank you, thank you, Deputy Stanton,” Manny said, and relief washed over his young face as he slumped into a chair.

“Dena, you should put on some warm clothes first,” Zeke said, and stood behind Manny and rubbed his shoulders. “Down the hall, last room on the right, sweats and t-shirts in the dresser. You can borrow some boxers.”

“Thanks.” She knew where his bedroom was. What was he up to? Stanton gave her a quick nod of approval. Okay, so even in light of all that had happened Zeke was protecting her reputation. Sweet, but old fashioned.

“I’ll make that tea,” Zeke called after her. “Would you and Deputy Ortiz rather have coffee, Deputy Stanton?”

She glanced back to see Stanton looking hard at Zeke. “Tea will be fine,” he said.

****

Zeke pulled up a kitchen chair and rubbed his hands over the singed hair on his forearms. He thought it crackled. The soles of his feet were tight and pink. At least he didn’t have any bad burns. Manny put the kettle on the gas top and fussed around the kitchen for a few minutes.

“You okay, Zeke?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’ll live. Ah, listen…Susie Q. is missing…I’m going to put some clothes on.”

“And what will you do then?” Manny asked, and narrowed his eyes. “Stanton said don’t leave.”

“I heard.” It was like the kid could read his mind. They both knew Rocky favored Susie Q. That meant his foreman was here at Three C’s. “If Stanton comes back before I return, you go first with the interview.”

The less he said, the better it would be for Manny, if the kid didn’t know what he was up to, he couldn’t cover for him. “I’ll be right back.”

Zeke dressed quickly and let himself out the door to the garage. It was on the opposite side of the house to the living room. He prayed the sound of the automatic door being opened wouldn’t alert Stanton. Deputy Ortiz still worked around the outside of the casita. He hurried around the far end of the pool, crouched low, and pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up.

There was an open stretch before he’d reach the pasture where Dena had released the horses. He broke into a run and prayed the two pair of socks and the sneakers would cushion his hot and swollen feet. Excitement built and he gave a short whistle. Two horses came toward him. He stroked José’s nose.

“Not tonight, old-fellow,” he said.

He grabbed Nancy’s neck, smoothed her mane and stroked her flank, then threw himself up and onto her back. He hunkered down his body flush with the horse’s back and urged her into a trot.

He felt for his pocket. He’d gone through the safe in the office this morning, found a bunch of keys. No second key for the casita, but there was one for the abandoned house. He’d slipped it onto his key ring, not sure why. Just something Dena had said about him ignoring things.

The lake shimmered, dark and mysterious. A wave of sadness washed through him at the memory of making out there with Dena. She hated him now. He’d lashed out like a kid with hurt feelings and hurt hers. He skirted the border of the lake and eased around the side of the old ranch house. If he got the chance he’d set things right with her.

He slid off Nancy’s back near a patch of grass, and rubbed at his sore buttocks. Riding bareback was for the young.

“Wait for me, girl,” he whispered. Hopefully she’d graze. If not he’d have a long jog home. If he survived. A shot rang out, and echoed into the still of the night reminding him why he was here. He dove for the grass.

Nancy bolted.

And from behind the house Susie Q. took off after her.

Damn. He wasn’t armed. And now he had no freakin’ horse. What got into a man’s head that he’d confront a serial killer without a gun? Because said killer was an old friend, a childhood friend? Had he thought they were going to sit and shoot the bull? Frustrated that yes, that is what he’d hoped, he lay still in the grass and got control of his heartbeat and his breathing.

He’d play dead.

He eased forward on his belly, an inch at a time. Five more feet and he’d be on the old verandah. He slithered through the damp grass like a snake, and prayed none of those critters were out tonight.

****

Dena walked ahead of Stanton into the kitchen of the hacienda. She hadn’t said anything to Stanton, because she couldn’t prove it, but she’d remembered something while giving her statement. She’d heard Rocky speak in Spanish. His voice was nothing like the man’s voice had been. Not even that day when he’d been angry and cussed about Manny and the art fair. Her pulse raced in anticipation of giving Zeke that information.

The interview hadn’t taken long. Manny sat at the long table, his hands wrapped around a mug of tea, a gloomy look on his young face.

Dena looked around as an icy feeling ran up her spine. “Where’s—”

“Manny, where is Zeke?” Stanton asked.

Dave shoved past her and ate up the space between the door and the table in a split second. For a chubby guy he could move fast when he wanted.

Manny moistened his lips. “He went to get dressed. He’s been gone a couple of minutes.”

“Gone where?” Stanton asked, hand going to his holster. “Don’t be lying to me, son.”

“He said he was going to get some clothes on,” Manny said, and moved his chair back, his hands up.

“Did he come back through here, after he got dressed?” Stanton asked.

Dena froze. Manny stood, looked apologetically toward her. He shook his head. “I heard the sound of the garage door, but it didn’t close again, and I never heard a car start up, or—”

Stanton took off down the hall.

Dena walked over and put her arm around Manny’s shoulders. “You did the right thing. The truth is all that’s needed.”

“I think he went on horseback,” he whispered.

Dena knew where he’d gone. She ran out through the garage door without another word. Across in the paddock, the horses grazed. Stanton had gone in the opposite direction, down to the casita. She could see him, standing in the glow of the interior light in conversation. Deputy Ortiz shook her head and waved her arms around.

The stables stood huge and dark. Dena turned her gaze from the deputies and ran. She slid one door of the stable open and shoved a handful of apple slices in her pocket. In the tack room she pulled up a saddle and reins, and puffing, lugged the stuff through the back door and around to the fence.

“What are you doing?” Manny asked, running up behind her.

She hadn’t realized he’d followed.

“You stay, Manny,” she said roughly, and balanced the heavy saddle and wondered what she was doing. Her heart raced again at the thought of Zeke in trouble. Would Rocky be armed? “Don’t give the cops anything negative to think about.”

“But where are you—?”

“To prevent a fight, and all because of me,” she said in a hoarse whisper. She climbed over the fence, dropping to the grass on the inside of the paddock, and tugging at the saddle.

Manny took it from her, and slung his legs over the fence. “Which horse?” he asked softly.

“José,” she said. He’d already trotted to meet her, and she stroked him between the eyes as Zeke had done. She slipped a piece of apple out of her pocket and offered it to him.

“Are you sure? I mean this horse can be ornery and—”

“I’m certain. Is there a gun in the stables?”

Manny stiffened. “Why do you want a gun?” he asked.

She heard the fear in his voice. “Quick, we can’t be gabbing…a gun, a knife, anything?”

“There are some hunting rifles.”

“Get one, and some ammo. Hurry.”

Manny left her to finish saddling the horse, and he ran back to the stable. Dena gave José another piece of apple.

“We have to find Zeke,” she whispered.

She climbed up and sat astride the horse, and turned him slowly, taking in the scene at the hacienda. Both cops were headed up the stairs to the back verandah. She’d bet they’d called for back-up and knew she had only seconds left to escape.

Manny ran back, handed her the rifle and she rested it across her lap. She wished she had a handgun. She knew how to use one of those better. “Is it loaded?”

“Yeah.” Manny swallowed hard. His eyes were wild and frightened.

“Run on back to the hacienda,” she said. “You can’t risk them thinking you’ve taken off. I’ll be fine. Tell them you tried to stop me.”

It all made sense to her that she should be the one to go looking for Zeke and not Manny, even though he’d be a better rider. She lifted the reins and gave José a gentle nudge.

At that moment Susie Q. came tearing through the back end of the paddock, rider-less, and obviously spooked, and behind her came Nancy. José made a start, but she smoothed his neck.

She leaned forward and whispered, “Zeke, we have to find Zeke.”

Would she find him dead or alive? She turned at the shouts from the cops. There was no more time to play detective, she needed help. They were running back down the verandah steps.

“Get Stanton to follow us,” she yelled to Manny. “Tell him Zeke, and maybe Rocky, could be in danger. I’m going out to the old abandoned house.”

“Yeah, okay.” Manny broke into a run toward the hacienda. “I can go with them in the cop car,” he yelled back. “Show them the back road.”

“Fabulous.”

She took off at a quick clip, and gripped the reins in one hand, the rifle across her lap with the other. Why hadn’t she known there was a back road to the place?

She shook her head and spoke softly to José.

Her trust and faith were in a horse that knew its way in the dark, and loved only one human being. She leaned down again, whispered Zeke’s name over and over, and urged him forward.