Alberta Alibi (12 page)

He placed the heavy keg beside the other two.

“Well, that's done,” he said.

This time Katie had brought her notebook stuffed in her backpack. She got it out now and opened it.

“You got more questions?” he asked warily.

“Um, a few. Sheila does too.”

“In that case, you kids better make yourselves useful.” He picked up the keg with one wiry arm and started to trudge up the slope toward his van. “Think you can carry those other two kegs for me?”

“Simple!” Rusty ran over to one of them. He grabbed the handle, pulled, strained and managed to move the keg about one centimeter off the ground. He struggled forward one full step and put it down again.

“Want some help?” Huntley asked. With both boys clutching the handle, they managed to lift the heavy keg high enough to lurch forward with it.

The girls walked over to carry the third keg.

Sheila was surprised by how heavy it was, even with Katie's help. Wendell must be stronger than he looked. The girls didn't do much better than the boys, but arrived at the van slightly ahead of them.

Wendell had already finished emptying the first keg into the van's water tank.

He turned, took the girls' keg from them and lifted it to pour the water into a funnel he had rigged up on his water intake pipe. He watched Rusty and Huntley struggle up the last of the slope. “Simple, eh?” He winked at Rusty.

Red-faced and puffing, Rusty put down his side of the keg, straightened up and rubbed his hand.

There was a bright red mark across it where he had gripped the handle. He grinned. “Easy for you to say.”

Wendell refused to answer any questions until he had emptied every drop of water into the tank.

Then he muttered something about the kettle and disappeared inside his van.

The boys wandered back down to the stream and tossed sticks for Rebel. Katie waited with Sheila. They sat on rickety folding chairs beside a lopsided card table covered with a red and white plastic tablecloth. Katie read her notes. Sheila tapped her foot impatiently. She thought of taking out her new Discman, which could play music through either speakers or headphones. Music would help soothe her jangled nerves, but what if Katie insisted on listening too? She left it in her backpack.

When Wendell returned, he was carrying a metal tray with five mugs and a plate of chocolate cookies. He carefully placed it on the table and lowered himself onto a folding chair. “Hope you like tea,” he said. “Help yourselves.”

The boys must have smelled food because they both appeared within seconds and each snatched up a couple of cookies. Rebel charged up the slope and darted around like a maniac, flinging water on everyone. But when the boys took their mugs and settled on the grass, the dog perched in front of them, his long, pink tongue hanging out.

Katie took this opportunity to ask her first question. “When the night watchman was shot, where did you say the truck was parked?”

“Far as I recall, I didn't say.”

“Well then, where was it parked?”

“Seems like it went down there first.” Wendell nodded toward the spot where the girls had earlier noticed tire tracks. “Looks to me like it ended up in the wrong place. Anyway, it stopped and turned around there, then zipped over the ridge. Didn't hear a thing, and that stupid mutt never made a peep. Mind you, I didn't see the truck down there, just the tracks it left behind.”

“So did you ever see the truck?”

“Yep. After I heard the shots and ran outside.”

“But you said it was on the other side of the hill by then.”

“Yep.”

“So how did you see it?”

“Didn't. I heard it start up though, poppin' and growlin' and complainin' like it does. Finally spotted it over there.” He pointed to a line of pines at the far end of the ridge. “Just before it disappeared into the trees.”

“And you could tell what color it was? Even in the shadow of the trees?”

“Nope.” He popped a whole cookie into his mouth and chewed noisily.

“Okay, then, how do you know it was blue?”

He finished chewing, swallowed and took a swig of tea. “Never said it was. Said I couldn't say for sure.”

“But when we saw Huntley that day, he said the police were looking for a blue truck.”

“True enough. That's what the night watchman told me when I went down to see him. It was me made the 911 call with that cell phone your dad insisted on lendin' me. Soon as I heard the sirens I hightailed it back home. Anyway, I'm guessin' he told the cops what he knew about the truck.”

While Katie wrote in her notebook, Sheila realized it was her chance to ask a question, yet she hesitated, almost afraid of the answer. Now or never. She took a deep breath and plunged in. “Wendell, did you see my dad's truck two nights ago, before the fire?”

“Hmm, can't say as I did.”

“So you didn't?”

“Saw a truck takin' off, same as before, over by those pines.”

“Did you see anything else?”

“Can't say as I did, and I was sittin' right here too.

Happen I couldn't sleep that night, it was hot as an oven in my van. Anyway, 'bout one thirty I wandered outside where it was cooler. Always did love watching the stars spinnin' around up there in the night sky. A silence, pure as peace, generally settles in 'round that time of night too.”

“Generally?” Katie glanced up from her notes.

“You mean it was different that night?”

“Sure was. All those voices natterin' away, how's a man supposed to relax?”

“What voices?”

“Couple of men, one woman. Voices carry a long ways on a still night, almost like over water.”

“So you could hear what they said?”

“Can't say as I could. Only voices. Anyway, pretty soon that truck scooted off, and then the sky lit up with fire. I climbed up the hill and saw those two Coutts standin' there, watchin' the fire like they'd lost the power to move.”

“Then what?”

“Well, I ran back to my van, grabbed my fire extinguisher and charged over the hill yellin' my head off for them to meet me at the fence.”

“And?”

“That got them moving all right. The woman came runnin' over, surprised as anything and none too pleased judging by the look on her kisser. She snatched the extinguisher and started sprayin' the second portable. Had to back off, though, 'cause the fire was too hot. The man started up a hose and went after the fire spreadin' across the grass. Managed to put it out before the trees went up.”

“That was lucky,” Sheila said.

“Sure was. Anyway, guess they called the cops after that, don't know for sure. There was nothin' more I could do. I went back to bed and slept like a rock until after the sun came up.”

17

R
iding back home, Sheila almost dared to believe her dad would be there when they got back and that everything would be all right. But of course it wasn't.

Adele's little white SUV was still parked in the same spot, but now a small black Jeep with no roof was parked beside it. “That's Ryan's,” Huntley said.

They found Ryan inside the barn, mucking out stalls and not looking happy about it.

“Hey, Ryan!” Huntley called. “When did you get back?”

Ryan removed the cigarette that dangled between his lips. “Late last night.”

“Did you hear about the fire?”

“Yeah, Dad told me.” He turned to Sheila. “I heard your dad's been arrested. Tough luck, kid.” He patted her on the shoulder as if she was his pet dog or something.

Sheila backed away. “He wasn't arrested! The Mounties took him in for questioning.” She was about to tell Ryan not to call her “kid,” but when she looked down at the cigarette held between his fingers, with a glowing line of ash drooping from it, she said instead, “You're not supposed to smoke in the barn. With all this hay around, you could start a fire. You know better than that.”

Anger flashed in his eyes; then he nodded. “You're right, kid, sorry.” He went outside and stomped the cigarette into the dirt. When he returned, Katie had her notebook and pen at the ready.

“What are you doing?” Ryan growled. “Taking note of my bad behavior?”

“Katie writes notes about everything,” Sheila explained.

“It's because she has a rotten memory,” Rusty added.

Katie managed to include them all in her angry glare. She snapped the notebook shut. “Did you go to the Calgary Stampede?” she asked.

He looked surprised. “I have no interest in rodeos. Why would I go to the stampede?”

Katie shrugged. “I thought your dad said you went there.”

Ryan shook his head. “He might have told you I went to Calgary to see my girlfriend. We went out for dinner and to a movie. If I never see another horse or cow after I'm done here this summer, I'll be a happy man.”

“But I thought you liked the ranch!” Sheila said.

“Sure, it wasn't bad—when I was a kid. I've got better things to do now.”

His words hurt Sheila, and she turned her back on him. She busied herself showing Katie how to remove the saddle and bridle.

Ryan muttered something about repairing a fence and rode off in his Jeep.

“He always uses the Jeep now,” Huntley said, “so he doesn't need to ride a horse. Last year he used to like it here. Now he criticizes everything.”

“Weird,” Sheila said. She remembered how Ryan used to complain at the end of every summer when he had to return to his mom's place in Lethbridge.

He loved the ranch then. What had changed? “Why'd he come here if he doesn't like it?”

“Who knows? I guess he needs the money for university. He wants to be a lawyer, you know.”

Okay, maybe that explained it, Sheila decided.

Maybe going to university makes people think they're way special. “What's his girlfriend like?”

“I don't know. She's never been here because she never wants to leave Calgary. Ben says she's real old, like maybe twenty-three.”

Twenty-three! Sheila couldn't imagine ever being so old.

Outside, Rusty had settled in a plastic chair under the cottonwoods with his sketchbook propped on his knees. Katie began to search the dusty yard, her nose close to the ground and a little plastic bag in her hand.

“What are you looking for now?” Sheila asked.

Katie waved the bag. “Evidence!”

Curled inside the bag was a little brown and white object that resembled a caterpillar. Sheila realized what it was: a long cigarette butt.

“Where'd you get that?”

“By the door. It's the one Ryan dropped.”

Sheila remembered the cigarette butts up on the hill above the development and felt a little burst of hope. “So do you think it was Ryan?”

“Don't know yet. Could be.”

“Why did you ask if he went to the stampede?”

“I just wanted to know if he was in Calgary or not.”

“Why?”

“Because that's where the matches were from, remember? A restaurant in Calgary.”

“But Ryan was away when the fire started, and Adele was here. She was in Calgary a few days ago though. Maybe the matches were hers.”

“Hmm, can't say as I know.” Katie grinned.

“We need to talk to Adele,” Sheila said.

They found her at the desk in Chris's office, reading a letter. Adele looked up, bleary-eyed, as Sheila and Katie entered the room.

“Lawyer babble,” she said, shaking her head. “Why can't they write in plain English so people can make sense of it?”

Katie shrugged. “Maybe they're trying to impress everyone with how smart they are.”

“Like Ryan,” Sheila said without thinking.

Adele and Katie laughed.

“What are you reading about?” Katie asked, trying to read upside down.

“It's from Glenmar Development's lawyers. They're saying Glenmar has the right to purchase the entire Cottonwood Creek ranch for their development scheme. Imagine, all that beautiful land paved over, filled with houses and a shopping mall! The idea makes me ill!”

“But how can they buy it if you don't want to sell?”

Sheila was appalled. She had loved this land for as long as she could remember. The Waltons and the Arnesens had always kept their adjoining lands as natural as possible for the wild creatures that had lived here since long before settlers arrived.

“Apparently, after my parents sold that chunk of land to them, Glen and Marla Coutts kept pestering them to sell the rest of the property. Mom no longer understood what was happening, because of her disease.”

Adele shuddered and put her hand to her mouth. “But before Mom became ill, my parents had planned to preserve their land as a conservation easement.”

“What's that?” Sheila asked.

“It's an arrangement they were making with the Nature Conservancy of Canada. The environmental value of the land would always be maintained, but our family would continue to own it. That way the natural habitat would be preserved for wildlife species forever.”