Chapter Fifteen
When Patricia Teague had flung herself at Reed, Mona came out of her chair and raced across the diner, every protective instinct she had inside hurrying to Reed’s aid.
Not that Reed Bryson needed help. A thin, delicate woman like Patricia Teague was no match for Reed’s hard-earned muscles.
The crazed woman got in only one swipe of her claws across his cheek before he subdued her.
Blood oozed from the cuts, dripping in long red streaks down his jaw. Mona was reaching for Reed’s face with clean napkins when Patricia Teague passed out. She’d been staring into Reed’s face and then looked over at Jeffrey Kuhn. What had she seen that made her turn as white as a newborn sheep?
Mona’s gaze went from one man to the other, a chill creeping across her skin.
Every bit as tall as Reed, Jeffrey Kuhn wasn’t nearly as filled out in the shoulders. Both men had green eyes. Although Kuhn had graying blond hair, he also had a square jawline, just like Reed.
If she wasn’t mistaken, the two men shared a bloodline. A pretty darned close one at that.
“Someone call 911,” Reed called, stretching Patricia out on the floor.
Dee Stacker emerged from the kitchen carrying a worn army blanket and a dusty pillow. She handed the items to Mona, who stood closest to Reed and Patricia.
Mona draped the blanket over the woman and the pillow beneath her head.
“Did you see that?” Catalina nodded toward the door.
Jeffrey Kuhn had just left the diner.
“He didn’t even pay his bill.” She planted her fists on her hips. “That’s okay. I’ll get him next time he comes in.”
Prairie Rock’s volunteer Emergency Medical Services, only a block away, arrived minutes after Patricia fell into Reed’s arms. The crowd moved outside the diner to give the emergency personnel room to work.
The sheriff’s squad car spun around the corner and skidded to a halt. Sheriff Parker Lee leaped from the car and strode over to where Reed and Mona stood. “What’s going on?”
“Mrs. Teague went crazy and passed out,” Mona said.
The EMS technicians wheeled the gurney carrying Patricia Teague out of the diner and toward the back of the ambulance.
The sheriff got back in his car and led the ambulance away from the diner, lights flashing.
Grace Bryson laid a hand on Reed’s arm. “We need to talk. Would you come back to the house with me?”
“Of course.” He turned to Mona. “Stay here. I’ll be back in a few minutes and we’ll find Wayne and Les.” Reed’s face was set in a mask as he led his mother away from the diner, his father following behind.
Mona shook her head. “What the heck just happened?”
“I don’t know, but my guess is there’s a history between Patricia Teague and Grace Bryson.” Catalina stared after Reed and his family. “I’d give my eyeteeth to be a fly on the wall in the conversation she’s fixin’ to have with your man Reed.”
“He’s not my man,” Mona said absently, her mind struggling to wrap itself around what Patricia said before she passed out. Grace Bryson had ruined her marriage? “I just wonder how Grace Bryson ruined Patricia Teague’s marriage.” Since she hadn’t been invited to the show-and-tell with Reed’s parents to get her answers, Mona decided to take the matter into her own hands.
“When Reed comes back, tell him I’ll be at the library.”
Catalina frowned. “I thought he told you to stay put.”
Mona smiled at her friend. “How much danger can I get into at the library?”
“Knowing you, a lot.” Catalina shook her head. “But my telling you not to go won’t do any good, will it?”
Mona shook her head.
“That’s what I thought.” Catalina sighed. “Be careful out there. With three people dead, the odds aren’t looking good for the citizens of Prairie Rock.”
“If it makes you feel better, I’ll take the truck.”
“It does.” Catalina stood in the doorway to the diner, rubbing the back of her head, a reminder that whoever was playing this game played rough.
The library was only two blocks away. Reed could walk that more easily than she could. Though she’d lived near Prairie Rock all her life and gone to school in the town, she couldn’t help looking over her shoulder as she climbed down from the truck. Even in broad daylight, she didn’t feel safe. The street was deserted, most of the activity still back at the diner.
Once inside, she pulled up a chair in front of the computer and checked in the newspaper archives for any references to Patricia Teague and Grace Bryson.
Her efforts were rewarded with a plethora of newspaper articles about the wealthy widow of Andrew Teague.
Mona scanned article after article going all the way back to the Austin society column announcing Andrew Teague’s engagement to a relatively unknown woman, Patricia Lee Kuhn.
Within four years of his marriage, Andrew died of a heart attack, leaving Patricia the wealthiest widow in the state of Texas.
Patricia Kuhn. Had Patricia been married to Jeffrey Kuhn before Teague? Mona performed a search on Patricia Kuhn and found a wedding announcement for Jeffrey Kuhn and Patricia Lee Taylor, dating back thirty-two years.
Mona guessed the Kuhn marriage was the one Patricia had referenced when she’d accused Grace of ruining it for her. What had Mrs. Bryson done to ruin that marriage? And did Reed know anything about it? She’d bet he’d know after his little talk with his parents.
There were only three articles on Grace Bryson. One dated back thirty-two years to her wedding announcement to William Bryson. A month after the Kuhn wedding. The second article was eight months later with the birth announcement of Reed Charles Bryson. The third, most recent article involved the sale of the Bryson ranch to L & T Oil after Grace’s stroke.
The ranch had fallen on hard times following a drought-induced prairie fire that killed seventy-five percent of their herd. Mona remembered that fire. The Rancho Linda had to reposition their herd just in case the winds shifted and sent the flames back toward their property.
With no connection to be found between Patricia and Grace, Mona ran a scan on Teague Oil & Gas. The articles dated over twenty years. The most recent information dealt with purchases made in the panhandle around Prairie Rock. In one article both Lang Oil Exploration and Teague Oil & Gas had been locked in a bidding war for one particular property. Teague, with their vast cash reserves, won out.
“Need help?” Ann Gooding, the librarian, looked over Mona’s shoulder. “Trying to decide which oil company to sell to? I’d go with Teague. I hear Lang is on the verge of filing for bankruptcy if they don’t find a new well soon.”
“How do you know?”
“Let me.” Ann took control of the computer mouse and clicked a view of that morning’s news release from a Dallas newspaper. “Lang’s been beat out by Teague in just about every deal over the past six months. And the land and mineral rights they’ve purchased haven’t panned out. Whoever’s feeding them information should be fired.” Ann stepped back, leaving the mouse to Mona. “I pity the investors.”
“You’re telling me.” Then why had Jeffrey Kuhn pushed Lang Oil Exploration as a potential purchaser for the Rancho Linda? Her breath caught in her throat. Kuhn had to be one of the duped investors.
Maybe it was time she asked what was in it for him. “Thanks for the information.” Mona logged off and left, headed for the bank. She felt frivolous driving when she could just as easily have walked the two blocks.
Inside, she smiled at the teller she recognized as Nora Cleary. “Is Mr. Kuhn in his office?”
“I haven’t seen him since he left over an hour ago, but I’ve been on break. Let me check.” She left her position and walked down the back hallway to Mr. Kuhn’s office. After a short knock, she waited a sufficient amount of time, and then opened the door. “Mr. Kuhn, Ms. Grainger would like to speak to you.”
Mona pushed past the clerk and entered the office. “Thank you, Miss Cleary.” Nora backed out of the office and closed the door behind her.
“I’m sorry, Miss Grainger, I don’t have time to talk with you.”
“Perhaps you should make time.” Mona stalked up to his desk and leaned her hands on it, getting as close to the man in the leather seat as possible. “I don’t know what all that was about back there at the diner, but I did some digging and found out some interesting facts. Would you like me to tell you what I learned?”
“No, actually, I’m late for an appointment.” He rose.
“Sit down, Mr. Kuhn.” Mona didn’t shout, but she leveled a killer look at the man who’d made her life miserable over the last few days.
He hesitated, then sat.
“I found that the oil company you’ve been pushing me to sell to is filing for bankruptcy.” Her brows rose. “Why would a banker suggest I sell my ranch to a business about to go under?”
“I had no idea they weren’t solvent.” He shuffled the papers on his desk without meeting her eyes. “What exactly are you trying to imply?”
Mona’s brows rose farther. “Tell me, Mr. Kuhn, do you or your bank have investments in Lang Oil Exploration?”
He blanched, his hands curling around the knifelike letter opener lying on his desk. “I don’t think that’s relevant. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
“I’m right, aren’t I? Either you or the bank are investors in the Lang holdings.”
Kuhn leaned forward, his green eyes blazing. “And they would have made a lot of money with the purchase of Rancho Linda.”
“Only problem is that I’m not selling.” Mona backed away. “Put a little dent in your plans?”
“You will sell. You can’t afford that place. Not with the loss of your cattle.”
“I suppose that’s your doing, isn’t it?”
“Oh no. I’m not the one responsible for that. I don’t know who is, but whoever it is couldn’t have timed it better.” This time Jeffrey Kuhn walked around the desk to stand face-to-face with Mona.
“You’re Reed’s real father, aren’t you?”
His green eyes narrowed. “Again, I don’t know what you’re talking about. If you don’t leave my office now, I’ll be forced to call the sheriff.”
“I can see the resemblance.” He was as tall as Reed and their eyes the same color. “You had an affair with his mother before you married Patricia, didn’t you?”
He picked up the telephone. “I’m calling the sheriff.”
“Go ahead. I’ll tell him you’re behind the rustling. That you’ve embezzled the bank’s money to invest in speculative oil exploration.” She planted her fists on her hips. “Go ahead, call the sheriff.”
“You have no proof.”
“I won’t need any. You’ll be so tied up in court, whatever money you’ve sunk into Lang will be long gone by the time they clear up the mess.” Mona pulled her cell phone from her back pocket and flipped it open. “What’s the number? Ah yes…911.”
A muscle in Kuhn’s jaw flickered and a red stain rose up in his cheeks. He snatched the letter opener from the desk, grabbed Mona’s hair and yanked her head back. With the tip of the letter opener to her throat, he growled a warning. “You won’t call the sheriff.”
“Too late. I already did.” She held her phone up for him to see it make the connection.
Kuhn slapped the phone from her hand and flung her against his desk.
Pain seared through her hip.
“You stupid bitch.” He paced away from her, running his fingers through his hair while he rolled the letter opener in the palm of his other hand. “This wouldn’t have happened if you’d just sold the ranch when your father passed. None of it!” He stopped and glared at her. “You should have sold.”
“I don’t sell out on my family.”
He marched across the floor and grabbed her shirt, holding her up until her feet dangled and she couldn’t breathe. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He stared into her face. “I didn’t divorce Patricia, she divorced me and took away my son. She was the one who left me.” He dropped his hold and stepped back, staring at his hands.
Mona gulped in a breath of air. “After you cheated on her?”
“We weren’t even married then.”
A knock sounded on the door and Nora Cleary stuck her head inside. “A couple deputies are in the lobby insisting on seeing you. What do you want me to tell them?”
Jeffrey Kuhn glared at Mona before he answered in an unsteady tone, “I’ll be right out.”
Miss Cleary closed the door.
“Go on.” Kuhn jerked his head toward the door.
“I’ll leave when you leave. I don’t trust you not to sneak out.”
“There are no windows that open in my office and you can wait outside the door if it makes you feel better. Is it too much to ask for a moment alone to call my lawyer?”
Mona’s eyes narrowed, but she’d gotten what she wanted. “You bet on the wrong horse, Mr. Kuhn. That land will remain in my family until I die.”
He stared up at her from his leather chair, his gaze vacant. “That might be sooner than you think.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Not from me. But there are other, less scrupulous people who would kill to get their hands on that land.”
“Who?”
“You think you have everything figured out… you guess. Now get out.”
The hard set to his chin convinced Mona she’d have more success pulling teeth from a Brahman bull. She’d be better off telling what she knew to the deputies. Mona left, closing the door behind her as Jeffrey Kuhn lifted the telephone.
She waited in the hallway outside his office to make sure he didn’t make a run for the back door. Not that she could do much to stop the big man. Her throat still hurt from his iron grip. But at least she could tell the cops which direction he went.
As she entered the lobby and spotted Deputy Phillips, a loud bang rattled the windows.
Instinct forced her to drop to the ground.
An alarm went off inside the bank and the deputies charged through the hall doorway.
Deputy Phillips bent down and touched her on the back. “Miss Grainger, are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“Can you move?” he asked.
“Yes, of course.” Her knees were shaking so badly, she didn’t really know if she could stand, but she made the effort.
The other deputy cupped her elbow and hurried her away from the doorway and out into the lobby. “Evacuate the bank. Now!”
Mona didn’t have to be told twice. She ran for the door and out into the hot light of day. Nora and the other clerk were the only employees in the lobby, and they stood outside on the sidewalk with Mona. “What do you suppose happened?” Nora asked, wringing her hands together. “Why hasn’t Mr. Kuhn come out yet?”
Deputy Phillips walked out of the bank, followed by his partner. He pulled the radio from his belt and pressed the side. “We need an ambulance at the Prairie Rock Bank. Got an apparent suicide. One man down, no other casualties.”
Mona leaned against the side of the building, fighting off a wave of nausea.
While Deputy Phillips asked her questions and wrote down her statement, an ambulance arrived. The same one that had taken Patricia Teague earlier. Had it really been over an hour since that incident? Mona stared at the bank’s digital sign, blinking ninety-four degrees and eleven o’clock, the message repeating every twenty seconds.
Was that it? Another man dead, a woman on her way to the nuthouse and Mona still didn’t know who’d been rustling her cattle or killing people right and left. Where was Reed? “Are you through with me?” she asked Deputy Phillips.
“Just a minute more. Sheriff Lee wanted to have a word with you about Mr. Kuhn. He’ll be here in a few minutes.”
Her stomach rumbled, reminding her it was lunchtime. Not that she felt like eating, but if she didn’t, she’d get dizzy and nausea would surely follow. Shouldn’t Reed be back by now? “Damn.” She’d told Catalina that she’d be at the library. “Can you tell the sheriff I’ll be at the diner?”
“I suppose. But don’t go too far. He insisted he wanted to question you himself.”
“Fine.” Not that she’d have anything different to say. If he wanted to talk to her, he could come find her.
When Mona left the bank, she was still shaking. But she decided to swing by the body shop to see if Wayne and Les had ever shown up. She didn’t plan on stopping. Not without her backup, Reed. But at least she could tell him whether or not they were there and she could come back when she had more support with her. As she rounded the street corner, Wayne’s one-ton pickup, hauling a trailer loaded with three four-wheelers on the back, spun out of the gravel parking lot headed out of town.
“Damn!” Mona’s foot hesitated between brakes and the accelerator. She couldn’t let them get away, but she couldn’t go it alone. Reed had to know where she was going and why.
She fumbled in her pocket for her cell phone, dropping it on the floorboard on the opposite side of the truck. “Double damn!”
Lifting her foot from the accelerator, she reached as far as she could, but the phone was out of reach. She’d have to park to get to it. In the meantime, Wayne and Les had pulled way ahead of her on the highway leading out of Prairie Rock and toward Palo Duro Canyon.
Should she stop and lose sight of the two? Or follow them long enough to get an idea of where they were going? After all the trouble these two had caused, she’d be damned if she let them go now. But she’d be stupid not to call.
Two miles out of town, Mona pulled to a stop in the middle of the empty road and crawled across the seat to the cell phone. Unfortunately, when she flipped it open, she had only minimal reception. Probably not enough for a call. She dialed Reed’s number anyway, hoping she could at least get a message to him.
She almost jumped with joy when it rang, her joy evaporating when the phone went immediately to his voice mail. The static in her ear didn’t bode well for leaving a message. She tried anyway. “Reed, I’m on the highway headed toward Palo Duro Can—” A siren sounded behind her, making her jump.
Sheriff Parker Lee stepped out of his unmarked black sports-utility vehicle and ambled her way. Good, maybe he could help.
She hurriedly added to her message, “Les and Wayne are in front of me with the four-wheelers. The sheriff’s pulled up behind me, but get here soon!” Well before her words ran out, the static disappeared and the call died. How much of the message he could decipher, she didn’t know. A quick glance at the phone confirmed all reception was lost.
“Mona, Mona, Mona.” The sheriff opened her truck door, a smile tilting his lips. “What are you doing way out here by yourself?”
Mona practically fell out of the truck. For the first time since their disastrous lovemaking, she was happy to see the man. “Parker, you have to stop them.” She pointed toward the disappearing truck and trailer.
“Who?” He grabbed her arms and held her still. “Who do I have to stop, Mona?”
“Les and Wayne. I saw them with a trailerload of muddy four-wheelers. They have to be the ones who were in on the cattle rustling. Hurry, or they’ll get away!”
“I’ll take care of it. Come on, you can ride with me.” He shut her truck door and led her to his vehicle, opening the back door to let her climb in. “I’d let you ride up front, but with all the new computer equipment, there’s just not room.”
Not until Mona climbed in and the door was shut did she get her first inkling that something wasn’t right. Starting with the sport-utility vehicle. She’d seen it over an hour ago in Les and Wayne’s body shop covered with tape and drop cloth. But all the tape had been removed and the grille’s paint was dry. “Did you have this car in the shop for repairs?”
“As a matter of fact, I did.”
To the grille. The black grille. Didn’t Catalina say that Gil Deiner’s car had been run off the road by a vehicle that left black paint on the bumper? A cold chill slithered down her spine and the baby slammed a heel into her rib cage.
“That Les and Wayne do good, fast work when they have a little incentive.”
She was afraid to ask but couldn’t stop herself. “Incentive?”
“Yeah, incentive.” Sheriff Lee glanced at her in the mirror, his brown eyes almost black, like a devil’s fathomless pit. “Yeah. Let’s hope your boyfriend figures it all out fast, or you’ll die. I call that incentive.”