by B. J Daniels
It would only take a second to find out if she was losing her mind or not.
THE MOMENT Hud hit the highway, he called Judge Raymond Randolph’s widow to see if Kitty had returned home. It would have been better to stop by and see her, but she lived at the other end of the canyon. He’d spent longer at his father’s than he’d meant to. Now he was running late. He wouldn’t be able to drive down to see her and still get back to Needles and Pins before Dana left for the night, and he was worried about Dana.
But he needed to know if anything his father had told him was the truth.
“Hello?” Kitty’s voice was small but strong.
“Mrs. Randolph?” He remembered Katherine “Kitty” Randolph as being tiny and gray with smooth pink skin and twinkling blue eyes. She baked the best chocolate-chip cookies and always brought them to the church bake sales.
“Yes?”
“My name is Hudson Savage. You probably don’t remember me.”
“Hud,” she said, her tone more cheerful. “Of course I remember you. You and your mother used to sit near me in church. Your mother baked the most wonderful pies. I think her apple pie was my favorite. I couldn’t help myself. I always purchased a slice at every sale. For a good cause, I’d tell myself.” She let out a soft chuckle, then seemed to sober. “I remember your mother fondly. You must miss her terribly.”
He’d forgotten about his mother’s pies. Her crust would melt in your mouth. Pies were her one pride.
He cleared his throat. “Yes. I hate to bother you this evening but I’m the new interim marshal in Gallatin Canyon and I’m involved in an investigation.” He hesitated, unsure how to proceed.
“That woman’s bones that were found in the well on the Cardwell Ranch,” Kitty Randolph said. “Yes, I heard about it. How horrible. But I don’t see what I—”
“The woman is believed to have been killed with the same gun that killed your husband.”
Kitty let out a small gasp and Hud wished he’d been more tactful. He should have done this in person. He should have waited. But since he hadn’t, he dove right in.
“I need some information about the last few months the judge was alive.” He took a breath. “Did he have Alzheimer’s and was he about to be asked to step down from the bench?”
Silence, then a shaky croak. “Yes, I’m afraid so.”
Hud let out a breath. “I’m sorry. That must have been very difficult for you. I understand his behavior was sometimes irrational.”
“Yes,” she repeated. “This is about your father, isn’t it?”
Behind the twinkling blue eyes, Kitty had always shown a sharp intelligence.
“Yes. Mrs. Randolph, do you know what the judge had against my father?”
“No, I never understood his animosity toward Marshal Savage,” she said, sounding sad. “But the judge was a hard man. Much like your father. And who knows how much of it was just my husband’s illness.”
“Were there any papers missing after the judge’s death?” Hud asked.
“You mean, some evidence my husband might have had on your father?”
That was exactly what he meant.
“No. I doubt any existed.” She sounded tired suddenly.
“I know it’s late. I just have one more question. In the burglary report, you didn’t mention a ring.”
“No,” she said, sounding tentative.
“Well, Mrs. Randolph, an emerald ring was found.”
Another gasp. “You found my ring?”
“Yes, I’m afraid it’s being held as evidence.”
“I don’t understand.”
He cleared his throat again. “The ring was found in the well with the remains of Ginger Adams.”
Another gasp, this one more audible than the first. For a moment he thought she might have dropped the phone. Or even fainted. “Mrs. Randolph?”
“I had to sit down,” she said. “I don’t understand. How is that possible?”
“I was hoping you might have some idea,” Hud said.
“This is very upsetting.”
“I’m sorry to have to give you the news on the telephone,” he said as he drove. “Do you have any idea how long the ring has been missing?”
“No, I didn’t look for it for months after the judge’s death and when I did, I realized it was missing. I thought about calling the marshal and letting him know, but your father had retired by then and I just assumed it had been lost when those young men wrecked their vehicle in the river. I never thought I’d see it again.” She sounded like she might be crying. “The judge had it made for me in honor of our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary.”
“I understand it’s an expensive piece of jewelry,” Hud said.
“The only piece of real jewelry the judge ever bought me. When we married, he couldn’t afford a diamond.” Her voice broke.
Hud frowned. “Wouldn’t you have kept a piece of expensive jewelry like that in a safe or a safe-deposit box at the bank?”
Ahead he could see the lights of Big Sky. The Kirk brothers hadn’t found the safe. Nor would they have known how to open it if they had.
“I thought it was in the safe,” Kitty said. “Obviously, I had taken it out to wear it and forgot to put it back. The judge probably saw it and put it in the jewelry box with his cuff links and his father’s old pocket watch.”
But it didn’t explain how the ring ended up in the well. “I’ll see what I can do about getting the ring returned to you as soon as possible,” Hud told her.
“Thank you. I can’t tell you what your call has meant to me. Good night, Hud.”
He disconnected as he turned off and drove up to Big Sky’s lower meadow. As he started to turn down the street to Needles and Pins, a car whipped out of the marshal’s office parking lot, tossing up gravel.
The driver spotted him and threw on his brakes. The vehicle’s door flew open and Jordan Cardwell jumped out.
“I want to talk to you, Savage,” he said, storming over to the SUV.
“How about that,” Hud said. “I want to talk to you, too, Jordan. Now just isn’t a great time.”
“Too bad,” Jordan said. “I want to know what the hell is going on out at the ranch.”
DANA STOPPED AT THE EDGE of the building across the street from the fabric shop, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. The air was cold, the shadows dark and deep along the side of the building.
She saw that the sidewalk across the front had been shoveled but there was new snow along the side of the closed office building. She stepped into the dark shadows almost convinced she’d only imagined a figure standing here. What fool would stand in all that snow just to—
She saw the fresh tracks. Her heart lodged in her throat. The snow was tramped where someone had stood. Waiting. She glanced behind her and saw that from this spot, the person had a clear view of the shop.
Behind the spot where the snow was trampled was a set of tracks that came up the narrow passage alongside the building. Another set returned to the alley.
For one wild moment she thought about following them. She even placed her boot into one track. The shoe size was larger than her own, but the edges caved in after each step the person had taken so it was impossible to gauge a true size of the print.
She shivered as she looked toward the dark alley, seeing nothing but the tracks. Only a fool would follow them. Whoever had been standing here watching the shop only minutes ago might not be gone, she told herself. He’d seen her look out the window. Maybe that’s what he’d been waiting for. For her to see him. And follow him?
But why? It made no sense. It was as if someone was just trying to scare her. Unless the chocolates were filled with poison. And she was the one who was supposed to have been knocked down into the well last night.
Just like Ginger Adams had been?
Just like her caller had said.
She hugged herself against the bone-deep cold of her thoughts as she turned and ran back across the street. Halfway across she
noticed the shop door. She’d left it wide open, but now it was closed. The wind must have blown it shut.
But as she opened it and stepped tentatively inside, she tried to remember feeling even the slightest breeze while she was across the street—and couldn’t.
As she stood in the darkened shop, she realized someone could have slipped in while she was gone. It had been stupid to run out like that and leave the door wide open. Worse, she realized, she hadn’t locked the back door of the shop because she was planning to go out that way.
She held her breath, listening for a sound. The shop was deathly quiet. The small light still burned in the back room, casting a swath of pale gold over the pine floor.
Her teeth began to chatter. Glancing out into the street, she saw only darkness. Again she looked toward the back of the shop where she’d left her purse, her cell phone, her car keys.
There’s no one in here. No one hiding behind the rows of fabric.
Even if the person who’d been across the street had been watching her, what were the chances he had circled around and come into the shop when she wasn’t watching and was now waiting for her?
She started to take a step toward the back of the shop.
Silent and huge, a shadow loomed up from the darkness and came out of the stacks of fabric. A large silhouette against the light in the back.
She screamed as he reached for her. She shot an elbow out, stumbling backward into one of the fabric rows.
“Dana. It’s me.”
But it was too late. She’d already driven her elbow into his ribs and sent a kick to his more private parts. Fortunately for Hud, the kick missed its mark.
She heard him let out a curse followed by her name again. “It’s me. Hud.”
As if she hadn’t already recognized his voice.
A flashlight beam illuminated a spot on the floor at their feet.
“What are you doing?” she demanded. “You scared the life out of me.”
He rubbed his thigh where her boot had made contact and eyed her suspiciously.
“What are you doing here anyway?” she asked.
“I came in through the back. The door was unlocked. When I saw the front door standing open, I was afraid something had happened to you.” He turned on the light and she saw how worried he looked.
She swallowed back a retort. “That wasn’t you watching from across the street then?”
“There was someone watching you from across the street?” He was already headed for the door.
“Whoever it was is gone,” she called after him.
“Stay in the shop. Lock the doors,” he called over his shoulder without looking back as he crossed the street.
Hurriedly, she locked the back door, then the front and watched from the window the flicker of his flashlight beam moving across the snow.
She saw him stop at the spot she’d discovered between the buildings, no doubt following the footprints she’d seen in the snow.
She waited, hating that Hud had acted so quickly on something that was probably innocent. Maybe it had been someone waiting for a friend who didn’t show. Maybe the whole thing had nothing to do with her. Hud taking it seriously only made her more anxious.
Was she really in danger?
What scared her was that he seemed to think so.
He came back across the street and she unlocked the door to let him in. He closed the door behind him, locking it.
“Nothing, right?” she asked hopefully.
“I don’t want you going back to the ranch by yourself.”
She’d let him stay last night because she’d been as scared for him as for herself. But she hadn’t been able to sleep knowing he was downstairs, so close.
She shook her head. “I won’t be driven out of my home.”
“Then I’m staying with you.”
“No. That is, I won’t be alone tonight. We’re having a family meeting. I’ll get Clay or Jordan to stay with me. I’ll be fine. Anyway, no one has any reason to harm me,” she said, trying to convince herself as well as him. “I didn’t put Ginger Adams in that well.”
“But someone in your family might have. And quite frankly, having one of the suspects staying in the house with you might not be the best plan.” His gaze softened. “Dana, why didn’t you tell me that Jordan is forcing you to sell the ranch?”
Dana stared at Hud. “Jordan told you that?”
“In so many words, yes. Is there really a will?”
“I don’t know.” She sighed. His gaze filled with such tenderness it was like a physical pain for her. “I thought so at first. Mom told me she wrote up a draft and signed and dated it. Unfortunately, I can’t find it and since she never got a copy to her lawyer before her death…Jordan is convinced I made up the whole story about Mother’s new will.”
“So, the ranch goes to all her heirs,” Hud said, sympathy in his voice.
“Yes, and they have decided they want the money, which means I have no choice but to sell,” Dana said. “I’m fighting to hang on to the house and a little land. That is what has been holding things up.”
“Dana, I am so sorry.”
She turned away. “Please, I hate talking about this.” She remembered something he’d said and frowned as she turned to face him again. “You don’t really think someone in my family had anything to do with Ginger’s death, do you?”
He had on his cop face again, giving nothing away. “Anyone who had contact with Ginger or access to the ranch is a suspect.”
She let out a surprised breath. “So I’m a suspect, too.”
He sighed. “Dana, I’ve been thinking about what happened at the ranch last night. Is there anyone who might want to hurt you?”
She laughed. “What were we just talking about? I’m holding up the sale of the ranch and my three siblings are all chomping at the bit to get their hands on the money from the property.”
“You seriously believe one of them would try to hurt you?” he asked.
“You know them.” Her gaze locked with his. “There is little they wouldn’t do to hurt me. Have done to hurt me.”
“I have to ask you this,” he said. “Last night, did you see the person who attacked me?”
“Why are you asking me this now?”
“I need to know if the reason you fired that shotgun in the air last night was to help someone in your family get away.”
She stared at him, anger rising in her. “How can you ask me that?”
“Dana—” He reached for her, but she stepped back.
“You broke my heart.” The words were out, surprising her as much as they did him. They had nothing to do with what he’d accused her of. They were also words she never thought she would admit to him of all people.
“I’ll never forgive myself for letting it happen.”
“Good.” She started to step past him, but he grabbed her wrist.
“I made the worse mistake of my life that night,” he said quickly.
Wouldn’t Stacy love to hear that?
“You were everything to me.”
“Apparently not,” she snapped, trying to pull free. But his grip was firm, his fingers warm and strong.
“I truly don’t remember that night,” he said, his voice low and filled with emotion. “The last thing I remember is having a drink at the bar—”
“I told you I don’t want to talk about this,” she said.
“You have never let me tell you what happened. At least what I remember.”
“Finding you in my sister’s bed was sufficient enough.”
“Dana, I’ve thought about this for five years, thought of little else. One drink and then nothing. I remember nothing.”
“Well, that’s your story, isn’t it? That lets you off the hook.”
“Dammit, why do you think I came back? Because of you and to prove that nothing happened that night.”
“I thought you don’t remember.”
“I don’t. I couldn’t be sure before but I got a note
from someone in the canyon that said I was set up that night.”
“Who?”
“It was anonymous, but Dana, I believe I was set up. Otherwise, why can’t I remember that night? What I’ve never been able to understand is why? All I knew for sure is that your sister had to be in on it. But after what Lanny said earlier…Your sister couldn’t have acted alone. Someone helped her.”
Dana didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. All she could do was stare at him, remembering what she’d overheard Lanny tell him. That Stacy had used Hud to force Emery into giving her a divorce. Emery had been thirty years Stacy’s senior, an older man with money. That was until he hooked up with Stacy. Stacy got her divorce five years ago—and took half of Emery’s assets and his home.
What if Stacy had done it not to hurt Dana but for her own selfish reasons?
“Dana, if I was as drunk as everyone at the bar said I was, then believe me, I didn’t sleep with your sister,” Hud said. “I swear to you. I had one drink at the bar, then the rest of the night is a total blank. What does that sound like to you?”
That he’d been drugged.
“How was it that you showed up at Stacy’s house so early the next morning?” he asked.
She swallowed, remembering the strange phone call, the strange voice. Do you know where your fiancé is? I do. In your sister’s bed. She’d just thought it was some canyon busybody and told Hud about the call.
“I figured it had to be something like that. Which only makes me more convinced Stacy was behind it—and she wasn’t working alone. My guess is that Stacy got some man to help her. I don’t know why or how they did it, but I’m going to find out.” He let go of her wrist, the look in his eyes a painful reminder of the love they’d once shared. “I’ve never wanted anyone but you. And I’m going to prove it to you.”
She stood just looking at him, afraid of what she might say at that moment. Even more afraid of what she might do. They were so close that she could smell the faint hint of his aftershave and the raw maleness of him. She wanted desperately to believe him.
Her gaze went to his lips. The memory of his mouth on hers was like a stabbing pain. All she wanted was for him to take her in his arms, to kiss her again, to make her forget everything that had happened.
