Whisper In The Dark (The McKinnon Legends-- The American Men Book One) (6 page)

“I’m walking into the bunk house going over in my head everything we need to do for...well, you know…,” he was referring to the funeral, “and the next thing I know I’m waking up here all bloody.”

Robert and Katherine supposed he was having as hard a time, if not more so, than they were coming to grips with Kyle’s death. George, just as his father before him, was born and raised on this ranch. It was the only home and family George had ever known. Seeing both her father and her brother be born and then die here must be hard. He was as much a part of the fabric making up the Brandenburg history as anyone.

“I’ll kill the bastard for no other reason than scaring my baby girl half to death like he did.”

Robert looked at Kate over his shoulder.

“Well, from the look on Katherine’s face, you’re going to have to take a number, George. She looks really hacked. I guess I would be too if I had a middle name like Delight,” Robert teased winking at him.

George snickered and then locked it down instantly seeing the searing look she tossed their direction.

Robert was not as anxious now with George talking and coherent. No doubt the old man was hurt, but his injuries were not life threatening as he first feared.

“Sounds like a name for an exotic dancer if you ask me,” Robert tossed out the comment knowing full well it would either push her buttons or make her laugh. He was prepared for either reaction. She did not disappoint.

She smiled rolling her eyes then tossed a pillow at him. “Oh, hush up you two.”

It was a start, he thought.

“And you bet I am hacked, and where in the Sam hell is that ambulance? For God’s sake, I could have walked to Harris Methodist Hospital by now,” she said moving to the front window looking toward the highway in the distance.

“Girl never was one for patience,” George said looking at Robert. He lowered his voice to a whisper. His words were for Robert only. “I know my arm is broken, and I think one of my ribs is too, Robby boy, but for God’s sake, don’t tell her. She’ll get all bitchy and fussy, and if I’d have wanted a woman to fuss over me, I’d have married, you know?”

“I know what you mean, George, but I’m afraid she’s way passed bitchy at this point.” Robert understood her frustration was born of fear and exhaustion.

“I have no idea where she got that temper, Robert. Kyle and Karl both were even as the day was long. Her,” he sighed gingerly tossing his head in her direction, “a very short fuse on that one.”

Robert understood where George was coming from, but quickly came to her defense. She had been hotheaded as a child, but never malicious. He had watched her as a young girl and she had loved the animals under her care. In that arena her patience abounded and her compassion was unending. Her temper had been aimed at him tonight simply because he was the closest target. Yet, her nature toward George was tender. That was the Katie he remembered.

Robert tore his eyes off her and back to George. “She is just exhausted and worried. I, for one, am going to get out of her way and let her be as worried as she wants to be.”

“Easier that way, son,” George nodded. “Just let her have her head. Eventually she will come to bear just like any wild horse worth taming.”

Robert could not have agreed more.

“Finally.” She bounded out the back door to meet the emergency medical technician who was getting out of the ambulance with the medical kit in hand.

“Hurry, he is on the sofa in the living room,” she said pointing the way and moving the kitchen dining chairs to make way for the gurney.

The second paramedic pulled the gurney from the back, and she helped him pull it up the porch steps and through the kitchen doorway.  Deputy Sheriff Juan Perez arrived right on the heels of the ambulance. Right behind him was Brice Langston, Dallas Langston’s son.

At thirty-three Brice was not unattractive, and Katherine had gone out with him on several occasions when he came to New York on business, partly because he was a smooth one, and at the time, she was young. The other part was because she was lonely for reminders of a happier time in her life. Yet, there was something about Brice that kept her from completely trusting him, and the feeling had not dissipated in the two years since she last saw him.

“Katherine?” Brice came through the back door and gave her a hug which Robert noticed was only one-sided. He was having a hard time dealing with Brice’s hands on her.

Deep down Robert’s animal was screaming, “Mine!” He definitely did not wish to share, nor was he willing to play nice. She was his responsibility, and Brice was an unknown factor to her safety. That had to explain his reaction, he reasoned.

Brice brushed the hair away from her face that had come loose from the head band. “My God, it is good to see you. I have been trying to call you now for hours, ever since I heard about Kyle. I’m glad you’re home. What is going on here? Are you all right?” His concern seemed genuine to Katherine.

“I’m fine. It’s George. Someone attacked him.”

“Attacked him? Here? In the house? Are you here alone?” Brice asked seemingly concerned.

“No, she is not alone,” Robert walked though the kitchen doorway, “nor will she be from this point forward.” He had seen enough of Brice pawing at Kate and did not want to take the time right that minute to figure out why the fact was so worrisome. Later, he told himself.

“Hello, Robert,” Brice’s salutation was cool.

“Langston,” Robert neutrally acknowledged the younger man.

Katherine noticed Brice slightly narrow his eyes.

Hum, she thought, males fighting for dominance. She deduced that not much had changed in millions of years of evolution. Men will still be men, and a woman was still a piece of meat to fight over. She liked Brice well enough, not so for Robert from the looks of his body language.

Brice was not one of Robert’s favorite people. However, Brice was definitely the lesser evil of the two Langston men. He was not as smart or as unscrupulous as Dallas. He was his Daddy’s sheep. If Dallas said jump, Brice jumped. Robert despised men like Brice who were solely in it for personal gain and who would stop at nothing to achieve the end result. That would be his opinion of Brice until he was proven wrong about him.

“How is George? Does he know who did this to him?” Brice asked looking back into the living room door as the medics were tending to George.

Brice was just a little too concerned for Robert’s liking. In all the years he had known Brice, he had never once remembered seeing the younger Langston concerned for any of the hired help. They were a means to an end. They were there to make his life easier, nothing more and nothing less. Robert felt he had no use for such a man who cared nothing for others less fortunate in life’s game of chance. The Langston family, like the McKinnon clan, had been blessed with both brains and brawn resulting in a very comfortable lifestyle.

Brice was one man with whom Robert had never really felt he had a firm footing, and he always had looked for a flank attack where the younger man was concerned. After all, Junior had Dallas as a role model, and his own father had learned about Dallas Langston’s tactics the hard way.

“Yes, George remembers, and when he is better he can give a statement to Maxi.”

Maxi was actually Sheriff Maxwell, a fixture around Johnson County, known for his fair and tough law enforcement policies. Robert had already called Maxi to brief him personally on this second attack on Brandenburg land occurring in less than seven days.

Robert’s lie just put Old George up as bait. If a Langston, whether Dallas or Brice, had anything to do with George’s accident then they would come after him again. Robert would be waiting this time.

Katherine knew Robert was lying, but figured he had his reason for holding close to his  vest the fact that George could not remember a single thing.

All three stepped back as the paramedics secured George to the gurney and rolled him out to the ambulance.

“Katherine, let me take you to the hospital. We can follow the ambulance. I’m heading back to town tonight anyway for an early meeting in the morning.” Brice looked over her shoulder at Robert.

She wondered what that exchange was all about.

Robert knew. The meeting was with the district attorney to establish Brice’s whereabouts at the time of Kyle’s death.

Katherine declined. “No, thank you, Brice. I appreciate the offer, but I’m riding in the ambulance with George. Robert, can you follow us? I will need a ride home once I get him settled.”

“Absolutely,” he said placing his hand at the small of her back gently guiding her out the back door. Brice had no choice other than to exit the house as Robert corralled him backwards. Turning the skeleton key in the lock and then dropping it into the pocket of his jeans, Robert made a mental note to change the locks and bring them, at the very least, into at least the twentieth century, and preferably the twenty-first. He was convinced, now more than ever, he had a new client and her name was Katherine Delight.

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be, Brice?” Robert wished he would leave. Brice's incessant pacing and irrelevant questions grated on Robert's every nerve.

Brice shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere. I want to help her any way I can.”

“Then go home. Leave her alone if you want to help. I have taken responsibility for her. Kyle was my friend, not yours. To my knowledge, Brice, you were never high on Kyle’s list of favorites.” Fearing he would wake Kate if he spoke too loudly, Robert kept his voice to a whisper.

“Screw you, Robert.” Brice wanted to kill Robert and itched to pull his gun. He could not stand the man with his high moral standard always making Brice feel as if he were the lesser of the two men.

“Very original, Langston. You cannot have a thought unless your father gives it to you.”

Kate’s head was lulled over on his shoulder. He stroked her hair unconsciously as he sparred with Brice.

Having followed them to the hospital and then into the surgical waiting room, Brice was in the way as far as Robert was concerned. He had relentlessly asked Katherine questions over the last three hours, most of which she could not answer, only serving to frustrate her further. She was already agitated, and Brice just added fuel to the fire.

George had more than just broken ribs. He had a puncture in his right lung that had collapsed on the way to the hospital explaining the raspy breathing.

“So, you think the same person who killed Kyle beat George?” Brice was fishing. “I hope he makes it.”

That had a ring of truth to it in Robert’s opinion.

“The old man is tough.” Robert had to give him that much credit. As George was wheeled into surgery to repair the lung and broken arm, Katherine leaned against his shoulder. Now, she was sound asleep in spite of her best efforts to stay awake. Brice’s questions, directed to help her in the quest of fighting off sleep, had finally failed as she slumped in total exhaustion.

The last thirty-six hours had finally caught up with her. He was glad she was able to get a few moments of rest. His shoulder might not be the most ideal sleeping arrangement, but it was better than nothing.

Robert just wished Brice would go now that Katherine was not awake to keep him entertained. However, it looked as if the man was not making any move to exit the area, and Robert was too tired to think of a way to hasten Brice’s retreat. The morning was going to be hard enough on her without adding Brice to the mix. They still had an appointment with the funeral home to finalize the arrangements now that Kyle’s body had been released from the County Coroner’s custody and the toxicology screens completed. He had spoken to the medical examiner in Fort Worth who had performed the autopsy. The authorities ruled that the cause of Kyle’s death was not a random act of violence.

“No shit!” That had been his unguarded response to the deputy medical examiner.

It did not take a medical degree or detective capabilities to figure that one out. The cause of death, however, was surprising and the reason for the method might just require gumshoe abilities to resolve.

It was not the beating which killed his friend as first expected. His injuries were severe, but not life threatening. Whoever beat Kyle knew how to stay away from vital organs while still inflicting a tremendous amount of physical pain. Instead, Kyle had been alive and possibly behind the wheel when his truck went into the ravine of the dry creek bed where he was found sprawled face down.

Was he was trying to escape his attackers when he died from the lethal combination of drugs? The sodium thiopental -- also known as sodium pentothal, and doxylamine, a common ingredient in cold and flu medicine, were both found in his bloodstream.

Taken separately neither drug was usually lethal unless ingested in large doses, but together could cause convulsions and coma. Robert was betting Kyle’s attackers did not know Kyle had a cold, or maybe they did and just did not care. After sustaining the beating, Kyle was injected with the dose of sodium pentothal and died after convulsing and aspirating into his lungs.

“Does Katherine know how Kyle died?”

To Robert’s jaded eye, Brice was looking very suspicious .

“Not fully, no.” Robert was not about to give up any information to Brice either.

Cause of death was officially asphyxia. Kyle suffocated to death.

Tough way to die, he thought, and not the first time since hearing the official results.

His questions were the same as those of the authorities. Both he and the sheriff did feel perhaps Kyle was injected with a drug thought to be effective in extracting information from uncooperative victims. Was he beaten first for information?

Probably.

The coroner said that the drug combination was fairly fast acting so the beating, more likely as not, occurred first. It was logical. Failing to get what was the intended outcome by using physical measures, the drugs were then a backup means.