Snow Blind-J Collins 4 (39 page)

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Authors: Lori G. Armstrong

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Mystery & Detective, #Mystery fiction, #Women Sleuths, #Women private investigators

BOOK: Snow Blind-J Collins 4
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Dad snorted. “Bull ridin’. Dumbest thing I ever heard of. I can see bareback and saddle bronc bus-tin’, ’cause breakin’ horses is a skill, but climbin’ on the back of a bull?” He shook his head. “I raised you to be 408

smarter than that, son.”

DJ let loose a low laugh. Whoa. His voice had changed. When he turned and saw me, his smile cracked and dried.

God. DJ’s resemblance to our father was uncanny.

I expected DJ’s usual sneer, his cold glare, followed by a disapproving once-over. But he dropped his gaze to the rope clutched in his big hand, allowing his black felt hat to keep his face in shadow.

“What?” Dad looked up and noticed me. His gaze narrowed. “How long you been standin’ there?”

I shrugged.

Without taking his eyes from mine, he said, “DJ, go see if your mother needs more firewood hauled in.”

DJ didn’t protest. He shrugged into his Carhartt coat, looped the rope over his shoulder, and gave me a wide berth on the way out.

Dad didn’t speak until we heard the door creak and slam. “Why’re you here?”

“Gee, you used to complain that I never deign to visit the ranch. Now you complain whenever I show up.”

“I don’t appreciate you bringin’ other folks into my business, girlie.”

“You mean Don and Dale?”

He glared.

“There are worse things than having friends who want to help you.” Another lightbulb moment. “Dale posted bond for you, didn’t he?”

More silence.

409

“Okay, since you won’t talk, I will. I found out your hired man was convicted of sexual assault. Not once. Not twice. But three times. None of them here in this state, which means the three-strike rule doesn’t apply and he was free to roam around. You and Trish are equally guilty about ignoring BD Hoffman when he tried to tell you about Canter’s past.”

His mouth hardened.

“But you knew the truth a couple of weeks ago because Dale Pendergrast told you. Trish didn’t know until I told her the day before yesterday. My question is: why didn’t you tell your wife right after you found out?”

“Because she’s the one who hired Canter in the first place without askin’ me. What was I supposed to do? Look like an idiot in front of everyone? A man who can’t control his own ranch or his own wife? I had to act like it was a joint decision even when she made the stupid mistake all on her own.”

“So you punished her by not letting her know Canter was a sexual predator?”

“No, I handled it and kept her out of it. Which is what she should’ve done—stayed outta my business.”

“Why did you and Canter have a fistfight at Chaska’s Feed Store?”

“Because he was a filthy liar spewin’ filthy lies.”

I kept pushing. “Is that why Trish had no clue you’d fired Melvin Canter?”

“That’s where you’re wrong and she’s lyin’. I told 410

her he wadn’t workin’ here no more two days before she and the kids left for Denver.”

So Trish had lied to me to get me to come out here in the middle of a goddamn blizzard, and continued to lie so I’d help her. What else had she lied about?

“For the past four years you’ve made it plain you don’t want nuthin’ to do with me. I won’t stand for you comin’ in here like a vulture and pickin’ at things that’re better left alone, things that ain’t your concern.

Family things that we’ll take care of.”

Instead of being cowed, I stung back. “Family things? You mean brushing your Indian son under the rug? Like you beating me? Those kind of embarrassing family secrets?”

“You don’t know nuthin’.”

“Try this secret on for size: yesterday I discovered Beth McClanahan, the secretary you fired from Sacred Souls, used to live here. She knows firsthand what kind of man Canter was because he raped her when she was eleven years old.

“Her father was the preacher and thought he’d do the Christian thing by leaving the ‘judgment’ to God. So rather than putting him in jail, her family dealt with the thing by ignoring it. By lying about it.

By brushing it under the rug and ultimately by running away.”

“Sounds to me like that gal had a good reason to want the man dead. Maybe your good buddy the sheriff oughta be lookin’ into her motives instead of mine.”

411

“Oh, I’m sure he will. Just like I’m sure now he’ll have a bigger reason to bring
all
members of the Collins family into the sheriff ’s office and grill them about what your hired man did when he was alone with your kids.”

Scritch scratch
of the rag as he worked the saddle.

Ignoring me wouldn’t make me go away. “Trish can’t stay in the room with Brittney when the sheriff talks to her. You can’t either. What about DJ? Maybe he’ll shed light on this situation since he spent as much time with Canter as Brittney did. Maybe DJ saw something or knows something he’s too afraid to talk about when you or Trish are around.”

Dad leapt up so fast the bucket crashed to the ground. “You stay the hell away from my son. He’s not talkin’ to nobody about nuthin’. Ever. I’ll never let you nor the law anywhere near him. You understand?”

Right then all of Doug Collins’s motives became apparent. By keeping his mouth shut he hadn’t been protecting himself. Or his daughter.

“My God. It never was about Brittney. It was about DJ.”

“Shut up.”

“Canter tried something with DJ, didn’t he?”

Dad got right in my face and snarled. “You shut up. Shut your big stupid mouth.”

“No one would—”

“No one will ever know, you hear me?
No one
. You think I want my only son to hafta grow up listenin’ to the whispers of everyone in the county? Thinkin’ he’s 412

weak? Thinkin’ he liked what that sick man done to him and DJ couldn’t stop it? Thinkin’ he’s some kinda homosexual freak? He ain’t, but that’s what folks will believe.”

“So instead you’re going to allow people to believe
Brittney
was sexually assaulted? How is that different?

For Christsake, how can you possibly justify that’s somehow
better
?”

“Because she’s a girl. Because like you said, people will know Canter done it before with other little girls.

She’ll get sympathy. DJ wouldn’t. That boy’d never be able to hold his head up in this county again, and I ain’t gonna allow that to happen.”

“Does Trish know any of this?”

“No. What do you think, I’m stupid? That woman is just like every other woman, can’t keep her big mouth shut to save her life. Or in this case the life of her son.”

I stared at him, absolutely speechless.

“So help me God, if you breathe a word of this to another livin’ soul I will make you pay. Everyone knows about your vindictive streak. You killed the woman who killed your precious brother Ben. Now you’re usin’ DJ to get back at me because you’re jealous of my new family. DJ don’t want nuthin’ to do with you, unlike your sainted injun brother.”

“No one will believe you.”

“If it comes to it, I’ll tell Sheriff Richards I killed that sumbitch. I will go to jail to protect my son. Trish 413

will hafta sell the ranch.” His eyes were angry blue flames. “Bottom line is my family will have nuthin’.

And every bit of it’ll be on your foolish head, girlie.”

His nostrils flared rage as he leaned over me, his stale breath hot with fury. His fists closed tight in readiness to meet my face. Instinctively, I shrank inside myself in remembrance of other times I’d faced his wrath.

Hooves connected with the slats in the stall, making a loud clatter, breaking the moment.

Dad retreated. “Get out. And stay out of this, you hear me?” He spun on his boot heel and I heard the door slam.

I’d made it to the door when DJ oozed from the shadows. I jumped back. “Oh. DJ. You scared me.”

“I oughta scare you good.”

Everything inside me went on high alert.

“My dad better not end up in jail because of you and your big mouth. He’s right. None of us want you here. No one would care if you never came back.”

“Brittney would care,” I whispered.

He laughed. “You think she really
likes
you?

Wrong. She’s usin’ you to hurt Mom’s feelin’s. Always tellin’ Mom how much cooler you are than her. How you’ll let her do whatever she wants whenever she’s with you. Brittney is a spoiled baby. Don’t think it’ll take much for me to turn her against you, ’cause I will do it. Leave us alone.”

Sick of his intimidation, I tried another tactic.

414

“What did Melvin Canter do to you, DJ?”

“None of your fuckin’ business.”

“Whatever it was, it’s not your fault.
You
did nothing wrong. You don’t have to deal with it Dad’s way.”

“Back off or I’ll show
you
exactly how
I
deal with people talkin’ shit ’bout me and makin’ me do stuff I don’t wanna do.”

Holy fucking Christ. Looking in his hate-filled eyes, I knew the truth: somehow, someway he’d killed Melvin Canter.

Losing battle here, Julie. Let it go.

I shouldered past him out of the dark barn into blinding white. Snowflakes pelted me, sticking to my burning face. A blast of cold air shot out of the vents when I cranked the ignition. Everything cooled down fast in these frigid temps.

I was numb. Frozen to the marrow of my bones.

Trish waved me down when I bumped past the house. Just made me increase my speed.

At least Brittney hadn’t sought my attention. If it came down to it, the poor kid would be a sacrifice to her brother’s worthless honor. Maybe Dad hitting me was better than the false sense of security he gave her. I’d never been delusional about how Dad felt about me.

Although it appeared I’d been delusional about my relationship with Brittney.

When I hit the gravel road, I hung a left rather than returning to the main highway, deciding to take the long way home. It’d allow me time to think about 415

why I ever thought my dad would change, except from bad to worse. Or about why I thought
I
should change. Kim had been right. Doug Collins was a cancer I needed to cut from my life. Now.

The words kept repeating on a never-ending loop,
DJ killed Melvin and your father covered it up.

For the first time in a long time, I had no idea what was the right thing to do. Ignore it? Turn them in?

I fished inside my purse for the disposable phone.

I could make an anonymous call to the sheriff.

And say what?
This is no one you know, but my
fourteen-year-old brother just basically confessed to killing
their hired man, whose initials are MC and it is an open
case in the county.

Right. I threw the phone in the seat.

Confused, angry, heartsick, I cracked the window.

The cab resembled a meat locker but the cold did the trick and kept me from crying.

As I fought for control, the idiot warning buzzed in my head because the snow was falling so furiously I couldn’t see five feet past my front grill. In my fit of pique, I’d taken the road less traveled.

Great plan in a snowstorm, Einstein.

I slowed down. Had I missed the turnoff? Within thirty seconds of dropping my speed, something rammed into the back end. My truck sailed forward; my seat belt jerked me back.

Damn. I touched the brakes and kept the pickup on the road.

416

The vehicle probably hadn’t seen me until they were right up on my taillights. I pulled over to see if the driver of the other car was all right, when I was rear-ended again. Harder.

Snow flew, covering the windshield completely as I nose-dived through the ridge left by the snowplows.

I hit the gas and jerked the wheel to the left. No way was I going to get high centered or stuck in the goddamn ditch again and have to walk back to the ranch and ask my dad or DJ for help. No freakin’ way.

I bounced off the embankment, busted through another ridge of snow, and came to a dead stop. I slammed the truck in park, unbuckled, and threw open the door, ready to give this asshole a piece of my mind. My feet hit the ground and I stalked back to where I saw a faint glimmer of headlights.

“What is the matter with you?”

No answer.

When I reached the Blazer, sitting crossways in the road, I realized the driver’s side door was wide open. What the hell? Where was the driver?

“Hello?” I heard the crunch of snow behind me and I twirled around.

Right into the barrel of a gun.

I looked up.

Jackal stared back.

Then he backhanded me.

I tasted blood before everything went black.

417

I came to lying in the middle of the road. The side of my face dug into the gravel and ice. Someone was slapping my other cheek. Cold liquid pooled in the corner of my mouth.

“Wake up. Jesus. I didn’t hit you that fuckin’

hard.”

I flinched. Shivered. Blinked. Didn’t help. I saw nothing but white spots.

“Ain’t as tough as everyone claims, are you, bitch?”

When I didn’t respond, a hiking boot connected with my ribs. I curled into a ball and tried to protect my head.

“Get her up. Didja get her cell phone out of her truck?”

“Right here.”

418

The female voice sounded familiar. Somehow I managed to open my eyes and breathe through the bone-chilling fear.

Jackal loomed over me. “Get up. I ain’t got all goddamn day.”

I pushed into a sitting position. The cheek that’d been pressed to the road burned. The other cheek where Jackal smacked me smarted. I wasn’t wearing gloves so my hands were red and stung like a million needles were jabbing them. I turned my head and spit a mixture of blood and saliva on the snowy ground.

Not teeth, though.

“You sure ain’t as mouthy when Martinez ain’t around to protect you.”

“It’s a little hard for me to talk when I’m knocked out cold.”

He laughed. “True. You scared?”

I nodded. My life meant nothing to him and he wouldn’t hesitate to end it.

“Good.” Jackal laughed again. “On your knees.”

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