Justice At Morgan Mesa. Jenna Night
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“I’m grateful to God that you arrived at that house in time to keep something terrible from happening to Vanessa.”
Levi nodded. He was a praying man. And he, too, was grateful to God that nothing worse had happened.
“This is Rosa,” Vanessa added, making the introductions as a lady with graying hair pulled back into a tight bun walked into the room and smiled at him.
“Rosa and I know each other through work,” Levi said. “It’s good to see you.”
This wasn’t the first time he’d had to intrude on a family while doing his job. He’d accepted the offer of coffee in an attempt to be social, which wasn’t always his strong suit. But he’d been working on it. He thought about forcing a friendly smile on his face, but didn’t. His sister, Angela, told him he looked scary when he did that. “How are you feeling?” he asked Vanessa.
“Probably about how I look. Bruised.”
“Why bother asking?” her grandfather snapped. “She’ll just tell you everything’s fine. She won’t be forthcoming.”
Pablo loudly cleared his throat and gestured toward the plate he’d set on the table. “Applesauce muffins. Anybody hungry?”
Apparently, nobody was. No one made a move toward the food. Everyone’s attention was focused on Vanessa.
“So, you live in Las Vegas and your family lives here?” Levi asked her.
Vanessa started to nod, winced and stopped. “We bought this property a few months ago. There’s still a lot of work to be done before the guest ranch opens for business.”
“Do you have any leads on who attacked my granddaughter?” Sam asked impatiently.
“Not yet.” Levi watched Vanessa closely, trying to gauge whether she was holding back information. Maybe she didn’t want to talk in front of her grandfather. “I have several questions for you,” he added. “Maybe you’d like to step outside. We could talk on your porch.”
“You can talk right here,” Sam growled out. He pulled out a chair for Levi and one for himself. Pablo and Rosa headed off into the kitchen area. There was the sound of a cabinet door opening and a bag rattling. A gray tabby cat shot down the staircase beside the dining area and disappeared into the kitchen, heading toward the sound of kibble being poured into a bowl.
“Good morning, Tornado,” Levi could hear Pablo saying in the kitchen.
“Vanessa should have called me last night right after everything happened,” her grandpa said, his voice a low rumble, leaving no room for argument. He twisted in his chair to face her. “We would have gone to the hospital to have you checked out. Maybe had you stay there overnight just to be certain you were all right.” He shook his head. “No more secrets, little girl. Not with me.”
“I’m sorry, Grandpa.” Vanessa’s eyes looked watery and her nose reddened. She sniffed loudly, then turned to Levi. “Go ahead and ask your questions—it’s fine for us to stay in here.”
“First, have you thought of anything else to tell me about the events last night? Anything you remembered?”
“Not really. I’ve tried to think of anything I could add to the physical description of the guy who chased me, but I can’t.”
“That’s all right. Maybe you’ll see or hear something later that will trigger a memory. Meanwhile, you mentioned being up on the mesa to talk to people about your dad. I’ll need a list of the names of the people you spoke to.”
“I can give you the names of people I know that I’ve spoken to since I’ve been back in town. But when it comes to the people I spoke to on the mesa yesterday, I don’t know their names. They were strangers. Out of desperation to generate a lead, I took a chance and I just stopped at random places. A couple of gas stations, a coffee shop. The Carson Family Diner. I told people who I was and asked if they knew anything about my dad and what happened to him. Asked if they had any theories or ever heard any rumors about who’d murdered him or why.”
“Did anybody have anything to tell you?”
“No. I gave people my phone number in case they thought of something. And I mentioned I was going to stop at the edge of the mesa on the Heaton property and enjoy the view around sundown before I headed back down to the flatland.” She drew in a shaky breath.
“I’ll need a list of the places where you stopped to talk to people,” Levi said. “And the names of anyone back in Vegas who might be angry with you. Disgruntled clients. People who are upset because you successfully defended someone who they thought should have been convicted. Jealous colleagues, bitter exes—whatever you can think of. It’s all worth looking into. And if you can think of anyone who physically reminds you of the man who attacked you, add that name to the list, too. We’ll check them all out.”
Levi could almost physically feel how desperately this family wanted answers. Right now, though, he couldn’t give them any.
Sam cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. Levi could see the frustration in the older man’s eyes, along with the fear that had likely triggered the dressing-down he’d been giving his granddaughter when Levi first arrived.
“Are you familiar with what happened to Vanessa’s father?” Sam asked. “You would have been a kid at the time it happened, but you still might remember. It was all over the news.”
“I did grow up here, sir. I remember very well when it happened and I’m sorry for your loss. I want you to know I’ll definitely be investigating that angle, but I can’t assume what happened on the mesa last night is related to your son’s murder. I need to keep an open mind and collect as much information as I can.”
“Along with the other places I mentioned, I also stopped by the O’Connell ranch, where my dad was employed when he was murdered,” Vanessa added. She glanced at her grandpa. “Mr. O’Connell wasn’t there. Neither was his son, Trent. I talked to a couple of ranch hands, but neither of them were employed at the ranch back when the murder happened.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “It’s hard to believe that my asking simple questions after all this time would get somebody upset enough to attack me. Nobody had anything useful to tell me. Maybe it really is related to something back in Las Vegas. Or something I accidentally stumbled across.”
“Why are you asking people about your dad now?” Levi asked. When he’d asked her last night about the timing of her investigation, her answer had been vague. Now he wanted specifics. “This can’t be the only time you’ve come back to town to visit since you moved away.”
“I’ve thought about coming home, asking questions and trying to stir up interest in my dad’s murder case before, but I never had the nerve to do it. Not that I ever thought anyone would attack me,” she quickly added. “I suppose I was afraid I’d learn something about my dad I didn’t really want to know. Or that I’d hear some new detail about how he died or what his body was like when he was found that would give me nightmares.”
Levi felt a sympathetic twinge in the pit of his stomach. He could imagine the horrible nightmares she’d had about her father’s murder over the years. The terrible things she’d imagined when a dark mood settled over her. He’d experienced all of those things and more due to his combat experience. He knew the raw feeling a person was left with in the aftermath.
“So why did you decide to go through with it now?” he asked.
“My grandmother passed away recently. And that reminded me that I’m running out of time to find someone who might know what happened. At some point, any potential witnesses will pass on, too, and I’ll never be able to get an answer to the question of who murdered my father.”
“It’s not your job to find the killer,” Sam said, focusing his gaze on his granddaughter.
Vanessa reached for her coffee mug and took a sip. “It’s not anyone’s job, anymore—no one’s looked