Silver Wilderness Range Page 7

  “I loved Daisy. Daisy has a precious soul. Seth was always miserable.” She grinned, then feigned a ‘whoops’ as she reached for her mouth. Through the finger coverlet across her lips, she spurted, “I’m not supposed to talk about my patients.”

  Royce chuckled. “I like Daisy, too. She hasn’t got any detractors. And Seth has a great many enemies.”

  Amber was busting to talk about Seth. Finally, she said, “Oh heck. I’m not violating a confidence by telling you that he’s got enemies all over the world. A few years ago, his company cheated people out of money. Like that criminal Bernie Madoff. Seth was a hedge fund scam artist. I overheard him on his phone telling someone to go to hell. The money’s gone. The man on the other end was shouting about taking Seth out. Seth laughed at him.”

  Royce raised her eyebrows. “He ruined people’s lives by stealing their savings. And Seth must not have been contrite about it.”

  Amber leaned closer. “No wonder that man wanted to kill him.”

  “Amber, you’ve been a good confidential informant by sharing this with me. If you hear anything else you think might be of value to me, please let Pearl know.”

  Amber shook her head affirmatively. Shyly. “Just please don’t tell Dr. Verner or the Austins that we talked. Or that creep Zellner.”

  “Alec?”

  “He’s always after the women. Then he says he’s single, so there’s no harm. He makes my skin crawl.”

  “Mine, too,” Royce confided. “But I’m sure for different reasons.”

  As Royce left, she felt that she and Amber had bonded. There had been a pact of sorts. And Amber now trusted her. “Come on, Chance. Let’s go solve some crime.”

  Royce had no idea where Seth was. Or where his body was buried. She wasn’t weighing in on an opinion about whether Seth dead or alive. Some crimes she had a feeling about. Some inner signals. This was a blank.

  Wheedling information was not easily achieved.

  Chapter 6

  Although Royce had stayed over with Hertha, there seemed a rift in their romance. The sheriff questioned if that romance – the true one before Hertha had left her – was back, and in hiding. Or if their love couldn’t be jumpstarted.

  Vannie and Antero were up and at play on their day off. Royce went into the living room and saw them in their pajamas, chasing and playing with the dogs that were kenneled at the High Country Clinic over the weekend. The trio of dogs had stayed inside the home with Chance and Hertha’s dog, Louie. The youthful black Lab, Wrigley, was nearly sitting on Vannie’s lap. Melo, the elderly Cocker spaniel rested next to Louie. And Keena, a young, energetic Samoyed, was chasing after everything that moved in the cottage.

  Hertha generally kept the animals in the house, rather than place them in their kennels. The pack usually enjoyed it, and the children felt as though they were treated to the fun of it all. Vannie and Antero assisted Hertha in feeding them, while Royce fixed breakfast. It was indeed the homey feeling that Royce had always dreamed about. She wondered why she was hesitant about family life, and about Hertha.

  No doubt, her family and friends were attempting to ease Royce’s concerns. Yet, Royce wasn’t certain what precisely her concerns were. Seeing the warmth, Royce knew that she wanted to blend with it. Be a part of the festivity. She struggled. She told herself that what everyone else said, she should believe. Royce wanted to believe in a relationship with Hertha.

  At breakfast, the children talked about their excitement of taking an excursion to see the Crystal ski resort, and to ride the ski lift. Before big snowfall, and snowmaking machines. It had not opened yet, but they were providing tours, and school field days.

  “Royce, tell us a story again,” Antero implored.

  Hertha said, “Remember, I told you how Royce saved my life?” She passed the toast. “Go ahead, Sheriff, let’s get your perspective.”

  Royce took a sip of coffee. “That was years and years ago. Some bad man had captured your mother.”

  Vannie continued the story, “And you and Mom had a secret way of looking around…”

  Royce said, “We used some tactics from the Ute Nation.”

  Inserting more, Hertha lectured, “You know how I always tell you to practice the Ute language. Well, if Royce and I hadn’t shared tales of our cultures, I wouldn’t be here.”

  Vannie spoke her Native language. “Three, two, one. Peini, waini, suu. We still can use them. And Royce how did you look at Mom to save her.”

  Royce wanted to answer that she looked at Hertha with love. “Your mother and I looked into one another’s eyes. Then I looked down, to the right. And counted. We knew the code word, and your mom dropped to the ground, and I had a clear shot. She was saved. Everything in life is good knowledge, and there when you need it to save someone. So, I hope you keep learning the Ute language.”

  Vannie grumbled, “Why learn it when we’re the only ones speaking it.”

  Royce answered, “Because some day it may save your life.” She chuckled, “Or maybe just to make you feel good that it is a part of a wonderful tradition.”

  Antero giggled. “Kannega, mamaci, tangwaci. Those words mean home, woman, and man.” He began to imitate the dance of the Bear. He roared while everyone laughed. “Mama-kwa-nhap.”

  Hertha spoke, “The Ute word meaning ‘all right’ is Towaoc.”

  “Yes.” Royce repeated it. Her eyes met with Hertha’s. There was glumness in each woman’s eyes.

  The children went back to their rooms to get dressed.

  Hertha reached across the table. “Royce, I love you. No matter how I try to show you how much, I fail. I see it in your eyes. What we have is an incomplete love. I don’t know how to make it better.” Her teary eyes blurred. “I know we need to have trust. And I’ve said it a thousand times, I am sorry.”

  “We need to give it time.” Royce’s eyes filled. “Maybe we are incomplete. For fifteen years we enriched one another. There was trust. Please, let’s both be patient.”

  Hertha got up to get the coffee pot. She was just pouring a second cup of coffee for Royce, when Royce received a surprising phone call from Rhonda Smith. The night supervisor of Silver Wilderness Center always seemed pleasant. Royce recalled seeing her a couple of times. The woman was in her late thirties, with brown, medium trimmed hair and matching bronze-colored eyes. She was short, and with a medium build.

  “Sheriff, I was talking with Amber earlier. She suggested I contact you. But I would be violating the terms of my contract. I could lose my job.”

  “I’m sensitive to that, Rhonda.” She seemed reticent to talk. Royce began trying to ease her doubts. Royce felt that the night supervisor wanted to talk. Royce finally suggested, “Look, Rhonda, I really need to talk with you. Would it make you feel better if we met at my grandmother’s cabin? It’s remote, and everything you share with me will be in confidence.”

  “I know your grandmother from church. I know she’s reliable, and dependable. I just worry.” She hesitated. “I’ve got so many responsibilities. I can’t lose my job.”

  “Meet me out at her cabin. We’ll talk. You don’t need to tell me anything incriminating. Just listen to what I’m thinking about the two disappearances. I’d truly appreciate it. And I promise I won’t ever mention that we’ve talked.”

  “If we could meet now, within the half hour, that will get me back in time to attend church.” She hesitated. “I know where the cabin is. My grandmother took me with her to visit your gran a few times before my grandmother died. I think that’s why I enjoy working with the elderly. I got to know my grandparents and their friends. I came to realize they are treasuries of wisdom.”

  “Thanks, Rhonda. I’ll see you in thirty minutes.” Royce immediate called her grandmother. Dora welcomed the company, and would have coffee and pastry awaiting the sheriff and Rhonda.

  ***

  Royce arrived in time to talk with Gran about her cabin being used as a private meeting place. Gran agreed that if there was malevolence at the Cente
r, it would be unwise to implicate Rhonda. This single mother raising three children since her husband abandoned them, did not need to lose her job. Royce vowed to keep her confidence, and protect her.

  When she arrived, Rhonda was uneasy until Gran gave her a big hug. “Thanks for talking with my granddaughter.”

  Rhonda was dressed for church, and continually tugged at her collar. She fidgeted. With a sheepish grin, she admitted, “To tell the truth, I’m doing it more for you, Dora.”

  Royce chuckled, “I’d have a tough time being sheriff without my Gran.”

  After they were seated around the table, Royce said, “Don’t answer anything you find uncomfortable. I just have questions about Seth and Daisy.”

  “I don’t know where they went. But I think they’re both still alive,” Rhonda surmised. Her voice was shaky, and fumbling for words, “Daisy is friends with everyone in town.”

  Royce sipped the mint tea Gran had prepared. “Do you believe there was any collusion between the Center and Daisy’s cousin, Rick Durant? I ask that because of the way Daisy’s home was signed away.”

  “Rick wouldn’t have harmed Daisy. I got a chance to know him when he visited, and made the arrangements. It was a very difficult time for him.”

  “You are certain that he believed Daisy was unable to take care of her own business?”

  “Absolutely.” Rhonda looked down. “Poor Miss Barnaby was in a terrible state. And especially on the days Rick was visiting her. She wasn’t walking. When we tried to get her up, it was more stumbling than walking. And her speech was incoherent.” Her eyes expressed concern. “Maybe it was the stress of seeing him again, and that aggravated Daisy’s condition. The human body is unpredictable. According to her daily reports, she wasn’t being given any more medication.”

  “And Rick talked with you about Daisy’s arrangements?”

  “Yes, he seemed sincere about wanting to help her in any way he could. I got to know him. He continued to say when the arrangements were made, that they had an attorney there.”

  “He didn’t act as if he might want the property sold first, then paid out monthly?”

  Rhonda gave a chipper snicker. “Nope. In fact, he said he’d offer to pay for it, if it wasn’t enough – if the house didn’t provide for her care. That’s something not all families offer. Some do nothing but bicker among themselves.”

  “Do you know what he does for a living?” Royce had check his background, and was unable to find much about him.

  “Yes. He was an airline pilot with one of the major airlines. He’s retired now. He lives in Los Angeles.”

  “A pilot,” Royce said with disbelief. “I can’t imagine why his name didn’t come up.”

  “Erick Durant. He showed me his copies of the transaction. He was looking at them and talking to Daisy. She was unaware of what he was saying. He told her how sorry he was that he had signed over her home. And he hoped he was doing the right thing. In confidence, he told me that if she ever was rehabilitated, which the Center stated would never happen, but if it did, he would feel terrible. Yes, his name is Erick. I saw it on the papers.”

  Royce shook her head, “We were looking for Richard Durant.” Royce was disappointed. Lyn had said that if Durant hadn’t signed the contract, it would be case closed. Forgery had been committed. If he was forced to sign it, it legally was extrinsic to the word of the contract and wouldn’t hold up in court. Extrinsic evidence. That left only if he signed it under false pretenses.

  “I could tell he didn’t want to sign, but thought it best.”

  “Next question concerning Daisy. Rhonda, was there any indication that she was so heavily medicated that the drug presented her in a vegetative state?”

  Shaking her head, frowning, Rhonda defensively replied, “The Center wouldn’t have done that. Miss Daisy was often agitated. The doctors didn’t feel that was good for her condition. The medication she was given was to relax her.” Rhonda’s breathing was becoming labored. “No, that would have been a terrible thing to do. Dr. Verner wouldn’t have been involved in such a thing.”

  Royce studied Rhonda blinking eyes. “And how about Eileen and Larry Austin? Or Alec Zellner?”

  Quickly, guardedly, Rhonda uttered, “I don’t think Eileen and Larry would do anything evil. She goes to church every Sunday. And Larry is a gruff old cowboy, but not capable of such an evil plot.”

  “Alec Zellner?”

  Her silence seemed to be a thick cloud of denial. “Why would he?”

  “Maybe as the Center’s director, he wanted to see Silver Wilderness Center’s financial success.”

  “I try not to see bad in people. I…” she stuttered, “I don’t think they would be a part of anything like that. You don’t know these people.”

  “Perhaps I don’t,” Royce replied. “That’s why I’m asking you these questions.”

  “Well, please don’t tell anyone we talked.” She bit her lip. “They’ve been good to me. They gave me pay raises. And named me supervisor. I depend on this job. And I was grateful to them for giving me the opportunity.”

  “Rhonda, you have my word, anything you told me will be in the strictest of confidence. You’ve been a great help. I appreciate your help. And I ask that you won’t share any of our conversation either. It could endanger us both. Do you understand?”

  Rhonda understood completely. Royce could also tell more from the way her glances appeared to be jumping. Leaping from side to side. Royce knew Rhonda wasn’t telling her everything. The sheriff questioned, “And what about Seth?”

  Then she blurted out. “Seth isn’t senile. He knows what he’s doing. He was institutionalized because he was drunk and violent. But I believe the Center needed to keep him, because he was so terrible. Not to make money.”

  “You believe he’s alive?”

  “He was smart enough to sneak out of the door. He was smart enough to see that the latch hadn’t worked, and the aide had left it unlocked.”

  “Do you have any idea which aide left it open?”

  “No. I’m not sure which aides were on duty. The aides and orderlies probably wouldn’t confess to leaving it opened, blocked. They wouldn’t have done it on purpose. Larry goes outside to smoke. Alec rarely goes out that door. He uses the front door. He keeps his bike inside the entrance.”

  After Rhonda left, Royce sensed her own quiet.

  Gran had been listening to their conversation. She huffed, “That takes the biscuit. She has more to say, and isn’t saying it. It may just be a smidgeon of the story, but she’s being mighty cautious.”

  “I understand her dilemma. Thanks for letting me use your cabin as an interrogation room.” She hugged her grandmother. “I’ll be out chopping wood. You’ll need much more; it looks like we’re going to be getting an onslaught of snow this winter. I want you prepared.”

  The season was changing, and Royce was reminded of that when the children mention their excitement that the snow would soon be coming. They were excited by the prospect. When she was a girl, she looked forward to the blizzards. Snow days. And wondrous forts, igloos, and ramparts were built of snow. Snowballs! They were the weapons of grade-schoolers. Eye/hand coordination her father, Grady, had told her. Aim with anticipation, and watch for the kid with a loaded snowball. For a moment, Royce smiled. Grady Madison’s admonition had served her well over the years. It had made her an expert shot. It had also made her wish there were fewer guns.

  By the time Royce had reached the timbered logs that she would be chopping and stacking, she was again thinking about the cases of Daisy and Seth.

  The sheriff was worried. If Seth might be alive, he might not be able to withstand the late autumn frost. As temperatures dipped, he would not be safe from hypothermia.

  Chapter 7

  The following morning Royce was still attempting to take in all of the possibilities. She was not seeing a clear link between Silver Wilderness Center, or SWC, as they were now referring to it, and the plan of turning over all property
as the patients entered.

  At the morning meeting, the deputies seemed subdued. Something was going on, but most of them had no idea what it might be. They only knew was that they were chasing an old gent that was perhaps dead. And if not dead, nowhere to be found in Timber County.

  An investigation by the prosecutor’s office was going on. It was a hush-hush investigation. The ex-D.A., Lyn Evans, seemed to be acting as chief investigator, assisted by the Timber County Prosecutorial Attorneys, headed by Mike Parker.

  When the deputies had returned to their roster duties, Nick and Royce entered her office and clamped the door shut. Nick questioned, “Is Lyn certain that there’s a case? And who is involved?”

  “Nick, that’s what we need to find out. We need more about Seth Egan’s background.”

  “Background, hell,” Nick chided, “I think the guy’s underground.”

  Royce’s lips lifted upward. “You could be right.”

  “Royce, I’m vexed about why we’re trying so hard to find him. I’ll go back to his home in Crystal. It’s being set up to be sold. From what the custodians told me, Silver Wilderness Center recently told them that they should clean everything out, and put items in a storage unit. Then soon the house was to go up for sale. I checked the records, and he has more against his house than it’s worth.”

  Royce’s frown deepened. “I’ve heard that he lost nearly everything when he was indicted for fraud. But the house in Crystal belonged to his wife. She hastily left town. But she must have known that the house was upside down. Too many legal expenses. She obviously had some funds after the divorce. She’s living in a swank property and socializing in Las Vegas.”

  “This case really isn’t much of a case,” Nick complained.

  “I know it must seem as though I’m calling audibles. But, Nick, I have a feeling. And Lyn feels the same. Something is problematic when it comes to Seth’s disappearance.”

  Nick’s right eyebrow shot up. “Okay, we’ll see. We are searching for an old timer living his ground-down glory in a fancy assisted living home. He even snookers them. And he’s still down and out. Seth was sliding fast. I wonder if SWC knew the house was going into bankruptcy.”