by B. J Daniels
“Stacy was being threatened with jail, isn’t that what she said? Now she seems to be running scared.” Hud glanced over at Dana. “I think she’s afraid because she knows the truth about that night.”
“You can’t believe your father killed the judge.”
He sighed. “I don’t know what I believe. The judge had Alzheimer’s. He was about to be asked to step down from the bench. Unless he had hard evidence against Brick, then the judge wasn’t really a threat.”
“So then your father had no motive.”
“So it would seem,” Hud said as he turned off Jack-rabbit Road onto Cameron Bridge Road.
“Maybe the fact that the judge was killed that night was just a coincidence,” Dana said.
He wished he could believe that.
Stacy was in between husbands right now and living in the house she was awarded in the divorce settlement from Emery Chambers. The divorce that, according to Lanny, Hud had helped her get.
“It has to be about more than just splitting us up. Who would care enough to go to all that trouble?” Hud said.
“Stacy for one.”
“What about Lanny?” He saw Dana shiver. “What?”
“When he heard you were back in town he was very angry.”
Hud rubbed his still sore jaw. “I noticed.”
He drove a few miles down the river before turning into a graveled yard in front of a large older house. There were no fresh tracks in the snow. No one had been in or out since Dana had stopped by last night.
Through the windows in the garage, Dana could see that Stacy’s car was still gone.
“Let’s give it a try anyway,” Hud said, and opened his door.
Dana followed him up the unshoveled walk and waited while he knocked. Through the trees, he could see an open hole in the ice on the Gallatin River, the water a deep, clear green. The air smelled of fresh snow and cottonwoods.
He knocked again, then turned to see Dana bend to pick up something from the snow beside the front step. A black glove.
“It’s one of the cashmere gloves my sister was wearing yesterday when she came to the house.”
His mouth went dry. Stacy had come back here after the family meeting, then left again?
He reached for the doorknob. It turned in his hand, the door swinging into the empty living room. He signaled Dana to wait as he moved quickly through the house, weapon drawn. Something about the empty feel of the house made him fear he wasn’t going to find Stacy. At least not alive.
Upstairs, the bedroom looked as if a bomb had gone off in it.
“It’s clear,” he called down to Dana.
“My God,” Dana said as she saw the room, the drawers hanging open and empty, clothes hangers on the floor or cocked at an odd angle as if the clothing had been ripped from them.
She moved to the closet and touched one of the dresses that had been left behind. “She’s either running scared or someone wants us to believe she is.”
He nodded, having already come to the same conclusion. If Stacy was as scared as Dana had said and decided to blow town, she would have grabbed just what she needed. Or left without anything. She wouldn’t have tried to take everything. Or would she? Maybe she wasn’t planning to ever come back.
“Who are you calling?” Dana asked, sounding worried.
“I’m going to have some deputies search the wooded area behind the house,” he said. “Just as a precaution.”
Dana nodded, but he saw that she feared the same thing he did. That Stacy had been telling the truth. Her life had been in danger.
While they waited for the deputies to arrive and search the woods around the house, they searched the house again, looking for anything that would give them a clue.
They found nothing.
“Do you want me to take you home?” Hud offered.
Dana shook her head. “Please just take me back to the shop.”
“Hilde’s working with you all day, right?” Hud asked.
“Yes, I’ll be fine. We both have work to do. And maybe Stacy will contact me.”
He nodded. “I just don’t want you alone. Especially now with your sister missing.” His cell phone rang.
It was Roadside Café owner and former cook Leroy Perkins. “You were asking about Ginger’s old roommate the other day,” Leroy said. “I finally remembered her name. Zoey Skinner. I asked around. You’d be surprised how much cooks know about what’s going on. The good ones anyway can cook and listen.” He laughed. “Zoey’s working at a café in West Yellowstone. The Lonesome Pine Café.”
“Thanks.” Hud broke the connection and looked over at Dana. “I need to go up to West Yellowstone. I’ll be back before you get off work.” He hesitated. “I was hoping we could have dinner together.”
“Is that what you were hoping?” she asked with a smile.
“Actually, I was hoping you would come back to the cabin tonight. I could pick up some steaks…But maybe that’s moving too fast for you.” He gave her an innocent grin. “I can’t stand having you out of my sight.”
“I told you I’ll be safe at the shop,” she said.
“I wasn’t thinking of your safety.”
She met his gaze and felt that slow burn in her belly. “Dinner at your cabin sounds wonderful. I just need to go home and feed Joe.”
“I’ll stop off and feed Joe and then pick you up at the shop,” he suggested.
She knew he just didn’t want her going back to the ranch house. The thought of it did make her uncomfortable, but it was still her home—a home she was fighting to keep. “I at least need to go out to the ranch and pick up some clothes. Why don’t you meet me there?”
She could see he didn’t like that idea.
“I’ll be waiting for you at your house,” he said.
She didn’t argue. She felt safe believing that no one would attack either her or Hud in broad daylight. But once it got dark, she would think again of the doll in the well and remember that she was more than likely the target. It chilled her to the bone to think of what could have happened if she hadn’t gone up there with the shotgun.
“Just be careful, okay?” Hud said.
“You, too.” She touched his cheek and ached to be in his arms again. Whose fool idea was it to take things slow?
AS HUD PULLED INTO the lake house, he found his father shoveling snow.
“I don’t see you for years then I see you twice in two days?” Brick said with a shake of his head as Hud got out of the patrol car.
Brick set aside the snow shovel he’d been using on the walk. “I suppose you want to talk. It’s warmer inside.”
Without a word, Hud followed.
“I could make some coffee,” Brick said, shrugging out of his coat at the door.
“No need.” Hud stood just inside, not bothering to take off his boots or his coat. He wouldn’t be staying long.
Brick slumped down onto the bench by the door and worked off his boots. He seemed even smaller today in spite of all the winter clothing he wore. He also seemed stoved-up as if just getting his boots off hurt him but that he was trying hard not to let Hud see it.
“So what’s on your mind?” Brick said. “If it’s about the robbery again—”
“It’s about Stacy Cardwell.”
Brick looked up from unlacing his boots, cocking his head as if he hadn’t heard right. “What about her?”
“She admitted that she helped set me up the night the judge was killed five years ago.”
Brick lifted a brow. “And you believe her?” He let his boot drop to the floor with a thud as he rose and walked stocking-footed toward the kitchen.
“She said she did it so she wouldn’t have to go to jail,” he said, raising his voice as he spoke to his father’s retreating back.
Brick didn’t turn, didn’t even acknowledge that he’d heard. Hud could hear him in the kitchen running water. He stood for a moment, the snow on his boots melting onto the stone entryway. “Did you hear me?”
�
��I heard you.” Brick appeared in the kitchen doorway, an old-fashioned percolator coffeepot in his hand. “I’m going to make coffee. You might as well come on in. You can’t hurt the floor.” He turned his back, disappearing into the kitchen again.
“Well?” Hud said after he joined him. The kitchen was neater than it had been yesterday. He wondered if his father had cleaned it because of Hud’s visit.
“Sit down,” Brick said, but Hud remained standing.
“Were you the one behind coercing Stacy to set me up?” Hud demanded.
Brick turned to look at him. “Why would I do that?”
“To keep me from marrying Dana.”
“Falling for Dana Cardwell was the only smart thing you ever did. Why wouldn’t I want you to marry her?”
“Then you did it to get to the judge. You just wanted me out of the way so you used me, not caring what it would do to my life.”
His father frowned and turned back to the stove. The coffee began to perk, filling the small house with a rich, warm aroma that reminded Hud of all the mornings his father had gotten up to make coffee over the years, especially when Hud’s mother was sick.
“Why would Stacy make up something like that?” Hud asked.
“Why does Stacy do half the things she does?” Brick turned, still frowning. “She said she did it to keep herself out of jail?” He shook his head. “I never picked her up for anything. Maybe she did something she thought she would be arrested for and someone found out about it.”
“You mean, blackmail?” Hud asked. Clearly he hadn’t considered that.
Brick nodded. “Hadn’t thought of that, huh? Something else you probably haven’t considered is who else had the power to make a threat like that stick.” Brick smiled and nodded. “That’s right. Judge Raymond Randolph.”
Hud felt the air rush out of him. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would the judge get her to keep me out of the picture?” A thought struck him. “Unless the judge wanted to make sure you responded to the call.”
His father raised a brow. “You think he staged it so I’d show up and then what? He’d kill me?” Brick shook his head. “I wouldn’t put it past him. Especially since he was losing his mind. But that would mean it backfired on him if that were the case and, no matter what you think, I didn’t kill the judge.”
“It seems more likely that I was set up so someone could use it as a way to get to the judge,” Hud said.
“I agree. But you’re just barking up the wrong tree if you think it was me. No matter how strongly I felt about you not staying in law enforcement, I would never set you up to get rid of you. I’m sorry you believe I would.”
“I hope that’s true,” Hud said, and realized he meant it. He started for the door.
“Sure you don’t want some coffee? It’s almost ready.”
“No thanks.”
“Son.”
Hud stopped at the door and turned to look back at his father.
Brick stood silhouetted against the frozen lake through this front window. “Be careful. It sounds like you’ve got at least one killer out there. Someone who thought they’d gotten away with murder. It’s easier to kill after the first time, they say.” His father turned back to his coffee.
IN BETWEEN CUSTOMERS, Dana told Hilde about everything else that had happened, including Stacy’s confession—and disappearance.
“I can’t believe this,” Hilde said. “I mean, I do believe it. I never thought Hud would ever betray you. He just isn’t that kind of man.”
“Why didn’t I see that?” Dana said, still feeling guilty and ashamed she hadn’t given the man she loved a chance to even explain.
“Because you were too close to it,” her friend said. “Any woman would have reacted the same way. If I would have found my man in bed with another woman, I would have shot first and asked questions later.”
Dana smiled, knowing that Hilde was just trying to make her feel better.
“Oh, darn,” Hilde said.
“What is it?”
“Mrs. Randolph. She left her fabric package.”
Dana laughed. “She came back to the shop again? Don’t tell me. She was still looking for the perfect blue thread to match those slacks of hers.”
“No,” Hilde said on a sigh. “This time she bought fabric for some aprons she was making for some charity event. She said you were going to help her with it?”
Dana groaned. Had she volunteered to make aprons? “Let me run it over to her. I need to find out what I’ve gotten myself into this time.”
“Are you sure? Didn’t Hud say that you weren’t to leave here alone?”
Dana shook her head at her friend. “I’m just going up the canyon as far as the Randolph house. I will be back in twenty minutes tops. And anyway, you have bookkeeping to do. It makes more sense for me to go since you’re the one with the head for figures.”
Hilde laughed. “You just don’t want to do this. Can’t fool me.” She handed her the package. “Good luck. Who knows what Kitty Randolph will talk you into before you get back.”
“She always tells me how close she and my mother were and how much I look like my mother and how my mother would love that I’m working on fund-raisers with her now.”
“You’re just a girl who can’t say no,” Hilde joked.
“That’s probably why I agreed to have dinner at Hud’s cabin tonight.” She grinned at her friend on her way out.
The highway had been plowed and sanded in the worst areas so the drive to Kitty Randolph’s was no problem. It felt good to get out for a while.
Dana hadn’t been completely honest, though, with her friend. There was another reason she wanted to see Mrs. Randolph. She wanted to ask her about something she’d heard that morning from one of the customers.
Nancy Harper had come in to buy drapery fabric and had mentioned seeing Stacy last night.
“What time was this?” Dana had asked, trying not to sound too interested and get the gossip mill going.
“Must have been about nine,” Nancy said. “She drove past. I saw her brake in front of Kitty Randolph’s house.” Nancy smiled. “Is your sister helping with the clinic fund-raiser? I knew you were, but I was a little surprised Stacy had volunteered. She’s never shown much interest in that sort of thing, not after that one she helped with. And this fund-raiser is going to involve cooking and sewing.”
Dana had joined Nancy in a chuckle while cringing inside at everyone’s perception of her sister. “You’re right, that doesn’t sound much like my sister.”
“Well, you know Kitty. She can be very persuasive.”
“You’re sure it was Stacy?” Dana had asked, convinced Nancy had to be mistaken. Stacy had helped with one fund-raiser years ago while she was between husbands. By the end of the event, Stacy wasn’t speaking to Kitty. The two had stayed clear of each other ever since from what Dana could tell.
“Oh, it was Stacy, all right,” Nancy said. “I didn’t see her get out of her car because my view was blocked by the trees. But I saw her behind the wheel and I recognized the way she drives. She really does drive too fast for road conditions.” Her smile said it was too bad Stacy wasn’t more like Dana.
As Dana drove past Nancy Harper’s house and parked in front of the Randolph house, the only other house on the dead-end road, she wondered again why Stacy would have come here last night. If indeed she did.
The double garage doors to Kitty’s house were closed and there were no visible windows so she could see if Kitty was home or not. Getting out, she walked up the freshly shoveled steps and rang the doorbell.
No answer. She rang the bell again and thought she heard a thud from inside the house. Her first thought was that the elderly woman had been hurrying to the door and fallen.
“Mrs. Randolph?” she called, and knocked on the door. She tried the knob. The door opened.
Dana had expected to see the poor woman lying on the floor writhing in pain. But she saw no one. “Hello?” she called.
Another thud. This one coming from upstairs.
“Mrs. Randolph?” she called as she climbed the stairs. “Kitty?”
Still no answer.
At the top of the stairs she heard a sound coming from down the hall. A series of small thumps. One of the doors was partially open, the sound coming from inside.
She hurried down the hall, her mind racing as she shoved the door all the way open and stepped inside.
At once, she saw that the room was the master bedroom, large and plush, done in reds and golds.
At first she didn’t see Kitty Randolph on the floor in front of the closet.
Dana realized why the woman hadn’t heard her calling for her. Kitty Randolph was on her hands and knees, muttering to herself as she dug in the back of the huge closet. One shoe after another came flying out to land behind the woman.
Dana stumbled back, bumping into the door as one shoe almost hit her.
Kitty Randolph froze. Her frightened expression was chilling as she turned and saw Dana.
“I’m sorry if I frightened you,” Dana said, afraid she would give the elderly woman a heart attack. “I rang the bell, then tried the door when I heard a sound…” She noticed the bruise on Kitty’s cheek.
The older woman’s hand went to it. “I am so clumsy.” She looked from Dana to the floor covered with shoes.
Dana followed her gaze. The bedroom carpet was littered with every color and kind of shoe imaginable from shoes the judge had worn sole-bare to out-of-date sandals and pumps covered with dust.
“I was just cleaning out the closet,” Kitty said awkwardly, trying to get to her feet. She had a shoe box clutched under one arm. “My husband was a pack rat. Saved everything. And I’m just as bad.”
Dana reached a hand out to help her, but the older woman waved it away.
As Kitty rose, Dana saw the woman pick up a high-heeled shoe from the floor, looking at it as if surprised to see it.
She tossed it back into the closet and turned her attention to Dana. “I see you brought my fabric.”
Dana had forgotten all about it. Embarrassed by frightening the woman, she thrust the bag at her.
Kitty took it, studying Dana as she put the shoe box she held onto the clean surface of the vanity. “How foolish of me to leave my package at your shop. You really shouldn’t have gone out of your way to bring it to me.”