Page 72 of Rocky Ride

When we went back into the house Dad was talking to Billy and saying, “Let’s go down to the roadhouse, grab something to eat and drink a pitcher.”

“Yeah, I could do that. Got to get out of here for a while and think about something else.”

“Get cleaned up, boys. We’ll get us some ribs at Jack’s place.”

“Copy, Dad.” Virge bolted up the stairs. He was always starving.

Dry Run Roadhouse.

We drank a pitcher at the roadhouse and Dad ordered the rib special for all of us. Billy wouldn’t eat, but he kept knocking back Miller until he slumped down in the corner of the booth and passed out.

“Seen that coming,” said Travis. “He was keen on Sunday and then this happens. Hard on him.”

“Yeah, it was,” said Virge. “Let’s get him home and into bed.”

“Yep. Life ain’t fair sometimes,” I said.

Chapter Fifteen

Sunday, October 27th.

Wild Stallion Ranch.

Billy was slow to get out of bed Sunday morning. Didn’t matter. We had the day off except for feeding the prisoners.

Dad laid out everything we knew about the two murders, and they didn’t seem to be connected at all. “The killer slit the throats of both victims,” said Virge. “Will Doc be able to tell if it was the same knife?”

“He should be able to,” said Travis.

“Do we want it to be one killer, Dad?” I asked. “What would be best for solving the case?”

“I’m not sure. I locked Hoover up hoping he would come forward and spit something out.”

“You locked Hal up even though you don’t think he’s the killer?” asked Virge.

“That’s right. We need something and Hal fell into our laps. We’ll use him to help unravel whatever is going on.”

“What do you think Hal Hoover knows?” I asked.

“According to Cassie Blake, the dark green Jag was at the Ellington’s more often than it would take to deliver a suit. So why was he there?”

“If he was fooling around with Sandra Ellington, he’s not going to tell us that because that will make him look more guilty,” I said.

“Uh huh. Would give him a motive—a weak one.”

Billy shuffled into the kitchen with one hand on his left temple and his other holding a bottle of Advil.

“You okay, Billy?” Dad got up and poured Billy a mug of coffee. “You want cream?”

“No thanks.” Billy chuckled as he sat down at the end of the table. “I don’t remember getting home. Thanks, guys.”

Travis pushed the coffee towards Billy. He took a sip and started talking about having Sunday cremated after the autopsy was done.

“Uh huh,” said Travis.

“I want to take her ashes up to her cabin. I’ll get her things and go through everything. I have to see what would make her do that. Just for myself—so I can understand.”

“Nobody will be going up that mountain until spring, Billy. There’s no way to get there until the snow melts. Sunday’s cabin is higher than ours and there’s no possible way to get there.”

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