by Cindi Myers
She moaned again, and he quickly lowered her hands and tucked them beneath the coat he had draped over her. It didn’t feel right, to be studying her this closely while she was unaware. Where was that ambulance?
“Cody?” she asked.
“I’m right here.”
“Did you come to arrest me?”
He stiffened. “Arrest you for what?”
“That’s what you do, isn’t it? You arrest people.”
She stared at him, but he had the sense she wasn’t really seeing him. “Only if they’ve broken the law,” he said. “Have you broken the law?”
“That doesn’t matter, does it?” she said. “You think I’m bad, and I’ll never be able to make you believe I’m good.” She closed her eyes again.
“Bette?”
She didn’t answer, only moaned and shook her head.
The distant wail of the ambulance broke the winter silence. Cody stood and trudged out of the ditch, into the road to flag it down. It parked in the road behind his RAV4 and a middle-aged man and a slightly younger woman climbed out. “Emmett Baxter,” the man introduced himself as and shook Cody’s hand. “This is Joan Anderson.” He indicated the woman, who was taking a large plastic tote from the rear of the ambulance. “What have we got?”
“I’m not sure.” Cody led the way around the car. “She’s got a head injury.”
They knelt in the snow, one on each side of Bette, and opened the medical tote. Cody moved to the bumper of Bette’s car, trying to get a sense of what had happened here. He could barely make out the tracks where her car had left the road and gone into the ditch. He wasn’t trained in assessing traffic accidents, but he couldn’t see any skid marks—no churned earth or deep ruts to indicate she had skidded off the road. Yet surely she wouldn’t have deliberately driven into the ditch.
He moved to the front of the car. Except for the broken driver’s side window, the vehicle appeared undamaged, though the snow might be hiding some ding or scrape that would tell a different story. Had someone sideswiped her and driven away? Had someone stopped after she had gone into the ditch and, instead of helping her, had thrown the rock through the window and dragged her out of the vehicle? The idea sent a chill through him that had nothing to do with the temperature.
Emmett stood and Cody walked back to join him. Bette was sitting up now, a bandage over the cut on her head. “How are you feeling?” Cody asked.
“I’ve been better, but I’ll live.” She looked more alert, though still in pain.
“Do you remember anything more about what happened?” Cody asked.
“No. It’s all...just a blank.”
“Short-term memory loss isn’t uncommon with a head injury,” Joan said. “Or with any kind of trauma, really.”
“Will my memory come back?” Bette asked.
“Maybe. Maybe not,” Joan said. “I wouldn’t worry too much unless you start noticing bigger gaps.”
“We can take her to the clinic in town, but they can’t get her to the hospital,” Emmett said. “Dixon Pass is closed again. Chute number nine let loose about half an hour ago. It’ll be twenty-four hours, at least, before the road opens. More, if it keeps snowing.”
“I want to go to the ranch,” Bette said.
“I can take her,” Cody said. “There are plenty of people who can look after her there.”
“What about my car?” Bette asked.
“We’ll get a wrecker, or maybe one of the ranch trucks, to pull it out later,” Cody said.
“I’ll need my purse and the groceries I bought.”
“I’ll get them.” Emmett moved toward the vehicle, but stopped short when he saw the broken window and the rock. “What happened here?”
He started to reach in for the rock, but Cody caught his arm. “Don’t touch anything,” he said.
“What, you think someone did this deliberately?” Emmett asked.
“I don’t know. But don’t touch it. Just get her purse off the passenger seat.” He scanned the interior. “The groceries must be in the trunk.”
He took the keys from the ignition and pressed the button to unlock the trunk. He and Emmett were retrieving the grocery bags when a black-and-white sheriff’s department vehicle parked behind the ambulance and Travis Walker got out. “I heard the call on the scanner, figured I’d better see what was up,” he said. He looked over as Bette, leaning on Joan, came around the front of her car. Cody read the relief on his face and realized the sheriff had been worried the victim might be his fiancée, Lacy. “What happened?” Travis asked.
Bette shook her head. “I’m not sure,” she said.
“The head injury is hampering her memory of the events,” Joan said. She steered Bette over to Cody’s vehicle and helped her into the passenger seat.
Travis walked around to the side of Bette’s car, where Emmett was packing up the last of the medical supplies. “Looks like someone broke the window with that big rock in the driver’s seat,” Emmett said. “She must have been sitting in the seat at the time and the rock hit her on the side of the head.”
Travis studied the broken window and the rock. “Where is this somebody now?” he asked.
“Bette was the only one here when I showed up,” Cody said. “I didn’t pass any other cars after I turned on the county road.”
“Neither did I,” Travis said. “And there aren’t any houses between here and the ranch.” He looked at Bette again. “She really doesn’t remember anything?”
“She says not. It’s a pretty nasty gash on the side of her head—she was unconscious when I got here.”
“Good thing you showed up when you did,” Travis said. “She might have frozen to death before anyone found her.”
Cody had been trying not to think of that. “I need to get her to the ranch,” he said. “But someone should take a closer look at the car.”
“I’ll take care of that,” Travis said. “The snow is going to make finding tracks almost impossible, but I’ll do what I can.”
“Thanks.”
He returned to the RAV4 and started it up, then turned the heater to high. “You doing okay?” he asked Bette.
“I’ll be fine.” She stared out the window, not looking at him.
What had she meant, when she had said he thought she was bad? It wasn’t true. She made it sound as if he passed judgment on everyone he met, putting them into categories—bad and good. If he did do that, he wouldn’t know where she belonged. She had a bad past, and he couldn’t say he entirely trusted her, but it wasn’t fair for her to say he had made up his mind about her.
When they reached the house, no one else seemed to be around. Cody helped Bette out of the car, his grip firm, yet gentle. “I’ll be fine,” she said, pulling away from him. “I’ll just go to my cabin and lie down for a while.” She tried to turn away but almost lost her balance.
“I think you’d better come into the main house for a little while,” he said. He put his arm around her. “Let me help. You don’t want to fall and bust open your head again.”
She gave in and let him help her into the house. He settled her into a chair near the fire. “Thank you for your coat,” she said, returning it to him.
He hung the coat on a peg by the door, then returned to sit beside her. “How are you feeling?” he asked.
“I wish people would quit asking me that.”
“You’d better get used to it. How are you feeling?”
“I have a pretty bad headache,” she admitted.
“Do you remember any more about what happened?” he asked.
“No.” Her eyes met his, her expression troubled. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”
“There’s no need to apologize.”
“Hello, I didn’t hear you come in.” Emily came in from the other room, smiling, but her smile vanished when she noticed the bandage
on Bette’s head. “What happened to you?” she asked.
“I’m not sure.” Bette touched the bandage gingerly. “Cody found me on the side of the road, in a ditch.”
“Cody! What’s going on? Did you call Travis?”
“He’s still on the scene. Bette has a head injury—maybe a mild concussion. She can’t remember anything. I thought it would be a good idea for her to stay where someone can be with her until we’re sure she’s okay.”
Emily sat beside Bette and took her hand. “You need to see a doctor.”
“I called for an ambulance and the paramedics treated her,” Cody said. “They couldn’t take her to the hospital because an avalanche has closed the pass again.”
“I didn’t want to go to the hospital, anyway,” Bette said. “I’m sure I’ll be fine, once I get a little rest. I just wish I could remember what happened. The last thing I remember, I was in the grocery store. I met Brenda—such a nice woman.”
“But how did you hit your head?” Emily looked to Cody. “You say you found her in a ditch?”
“Her car was in the ditch and she was lying in the snow beside the car,” he said. “The driver’s side window was busted out, and a big rock sat in the driver’s seat. The rock probably hit her in the head when it went through the window.”
“A rock?” Bette stared at him. “But how did it get there? I mean, I always see the road signs that say watch for falling rocks, but I never dreamed one could come through the window like that.”
“This wasn’t a falling rock,” Cody said. “It happened in an area of open fields and woods. There isn’t any place near there that a rock could have fallen from.”
“Are you saying someone threw the rock at her?” Emily asked.
“We don’t know,” Cody said.
“Who would do something like that?” Emily asked.
He didn’t see any point in trying to answer that question. “You might fix her some tea or something,” he said. “She was lying in the snow who knows how long and she’s probably still chilled.”
“I’m sitting right here,” Bette said. “If I want tea, I can get it myself.”
“I’ll get it.” Emily stood. “I could use a cup myself.”
She left them. Bette glared up at Cody. “Don’t you have something to do?” she asked.
“I’m doing it.”
“I don’t like you hovering over me.”
He leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “Want to tell me about the red paint I saw in your bathroom last night?” he asked. He hadn’t planned to question her about the paint right now, but why not take advantage of the opportunity?
She gasped. “What were you doing snooping around in my bathroom?”
“I was looking for a towel and I saw the paint and a brush. The same color paint that was used to write that message on your door.”
“Why didn’t you say something to me about it then?”
“Why didn’t you say something to me?”
“Because I didn’t know it was there—not until this morning.” She clutched at his arm. “I swear that paint wasn’t there before last night. Someone—probably the same person who put that message on the door—must have come in while I was out and put it there.”
“How did they get in? You locked your door, didn’t you?”
“Of course I did, but mine might not be the only key.”
“I’ll ask the Walkers if there’s another key.”
“Don’t.” She drew back. “And don’t look at me that way.”
“What way?”
“As if you think I’m guilty of something.”
“If you’re not guilty of something, why don’t you want me talking to the Walkers?”
“Because I don’t want to worry them over something so stupid. It was just a childish message painted on my door.”
“But who wrote it, and why?”
“My guess is someone who doesn’t want me here. Someone who wants me to, as the message said, go home.”
“I guess Rainey is at the top of that list. And maybe Doug.”
“Probably. But it doesn’t matter. I’m not going to leave, and there’s no sense making a fuss. That’s probably what they want. When they realize I’m going to ignore them, they’ll have to give up.”
“I’d think the Walkers would want to know if one of their employees is harassing a guest,” Cody said.
“They have enough to worry about right now, with the wedding and the snowstorms and the serial killer,” Bette said. “I can look after myself. Promise you won’t say anything to them.”
“All right. I won’t say anything.”
“Won’t say anything about what?” Emily returned, carrying a loaded tray.
Cody stood and relieved her of the tray. He handed one of the steaming mugs on it to Bette and took one for himself. “I asked Cody not to say anything to Rainey and Doug about my injury,” Bette said. “I don’t want Rainey using it as an excuse to push me out of her kitchen.”
“She’s bound to hear about it from someone.” Emily settled next to Bette with the third mug of tea. “And she’s not going to push you out of the kitchen. We won’t let her.”
“Still, it would be better if you just don’t mention me to her,” Bette said.
The door opened and Travis came in, followed by Lacy. “Come sit by the fire,” Emily said. “The two of you must be frozen.”
The couple shed their coats, then Lacy sank into a chair across from Bette. Travis remained standing. “I was on my way home when I saw Travis on the side of the road, with your car,” Lacy said. “He told me what happened. How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine.” She looked up at Travis. “Did you find anything to tell us what happened?”
“Have you remembered anything that happened?” Travis asked.
“I’m sorry, no. I’m trying to remember but...” She shook her head. “I don’t even recall leaving the grocery store and getting into my car.”
“I’m having your car towed to the station so we can take a better look at it there,” Travis said. “If you need to borrow one of the ranch vehicles in the meantime, just ask my mom or dad. They’ll be happy to lend you whatever you need.”
“I shouldn’t need to go anywhere for a few days, at least,” Bette said. “I stocked up on supplies today. By the way, I need to bring them inside and put them away.”
“I’ll take care of that in a minute,” Cody said.
“There’s something else you should know.” Travis took an evidence pouch from the pocket of his coat. “We found this in the ditch near the car.”
Bette took the packet from him and frowned at the contents. “Duct tape?”
A chill went through Cody. The Ice Cold Killer had used duct tape to bind the hands and feet of his victims.
“Did you have any duct tape in your car that might have fallen out when you got out?” Travis asked.
“No,” Bette said. “It’s not something I’ve ever owned.”
He tucked the evidence pouch back into his pocket. “I need to get this over to the station. I just stopped by to see how you were doing.”
“I’m going to be fine,” Bette said. “Thank you.”
“I’ll get those groceries out of the car,” Cody said. He followed Travis out the door. On the front porch, the two friends stopped. “Did you find any of the killer’s calling cards?” he asked.
“No,” Travis said. “Just this roll of duct tape. It looks brand-new. I’m not even sure any tape has been used off the roll.”
“Maybe the killer ran out and needed more.”
“There are only a couple of places in town that stock the stuff,” Travis said. “I’ll be checking with them.” He shoved his hands in his coat pockets. “It’s snowing pretty hard, but I got out of the cruiser several times and walked the roadsid
e on the way back to the ranch. I didn’t see any signs where a vehicle might have turned off the road—no tracks or depressions in the snow or broken plants or anything.”
“Cars don’t vanish into thin air,” Cody said.
“They don’t,” Travis agreed. “If whoever attacked Bette didn’t turn off and he didn’t turn back, that means it came here, to the ranch. And it means he’s still here.”
Chapter Eight
The idea that Bette’s attacker could be here at the ranch put Cody on high alert. “What do you need me to do?” he asked.
“I need you to help me search the ranch,” Travis said. “We’ll check all the outbuildings and anywhere someone could possibly stash a vehicle.”
“Sure. Do you suspect someone at the ranch—an employee or somebody else?”
“Right now, I suspect pretty much everyone.”
Cody retrieved Bette’s groceries from his RAV4 and stashed them in the garage refrigerator, then he and Travis set out across the ranch.
“If this was the Ice Cold Killer, he’s getting pretty reckless,” Cody said as he and Travis made their way toward the stables.
“He killed Fiona Winslow in the middle of a party,” Travis said. “Anyone could have come upon him at any time. I think that’s part of the thrill for him.”
“What are we looking for, specifically?” Cody asked, as they stopped behind a trio of vehicles parked near the stables. All three were covered with snow—in one case the vehicle, an older-model sedan, was almost buried in a drift.
“I’m looking for anything that looks like it’s been driven in the last two hours,” Travis said.
“It’s been well over an hour,” Cody said. “The engine probably won’t be warm.”
“No, but we should be able to tell if it isn’t covered with snow. We can rule out your car, mine and Lacy’s, but anything else we find, we’ll take a very close look at the driver.”
For the next two hours, they trudged through the snow, knee-deep in places. They peered into sheds and walked up narrow tracks that led into the woods. What few vehicles they spotted had clearly not been moved since the snow started. Travis questioned a few ranch hands, but all denied seeing any strange vehicles—or even any familiar ones. “Not much call to go out in a storm like this,” one man said. “Especially with Dixon Pass closed.”