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Crime Scene at Cardwell Ranch
Crime Scene at Cardwell Ranch
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Crime Scene at Cardwell Ranch

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“Right. Your big concern has always been my happiness,” Dana muttered.

The card was signed, Stacy. Then in small print under it were the words, “I am so sorry.”

Dana balled up the card and hurled it across the room, remembering a time when she’d idolized her older sister. Stacy was everything Dana had once wanted to be. Beautiful, popular, the perfect older sister to emulate. She’d envied the way Stacy made everything look easy. On the other hand, Dana had been a tomboy, scuffed knees, unruly hair and not a clue when it came to boys.

What Dana hadn’t realized once she grew up was how much Stacy had envied her. Or what lengths she would go to to hurt her.

The phone rang. She let it ring twice more before she forced herself to pick up the receiver, not bothering to check Caller ID for the second time. “Yes?”

“Dana?”

“Lanny. I thought it…was someone else,” she said lamely.

“Is everything all right?” he asked.

She could picture him sitting in his office in his three-piece, pin-striped suit, leaning back in his leather chair, with that slight frown he got when he was in lawyer mode.

“Fine. Just…busy.” She rolled her eyes at how stupid she sounded. But she could feel what wasn’t being said between them like a speech barrier. Lanny had to have heard that Hud was back in town. Wasn’t that why he’d called?

“Well, then I won’t keep you. I just wanted to make sure we were still on for tonight,” he said.

“Of course.” She’d completely forgotten about their date. The last thing she wanted to do was to go out tonight. But she’d made this birthday dinner date weeks ago.

“Great, then I’ll see you at eight.” He seemed to hesitate, as if waiting for her to say something, then hung up.

Why hadn’t she told him the truth? That she was exhausted, that there was a dead body in her well, that she just wanted to stay home and lick her wounds? Lanny would have understood.

But she knew why she hadn’t. Because Lanny would think her canceling their date had something to do with Hud.

ONCE THE TEAM of deputies on loan from the sheriff’s department in Bozeman arrived and began searching the old homestead, Hud drove back to his office at Big Sky.

Big Sky didn’t really resemble a town. Condos had sprung up after construction on the famous resort began on the West Fork of the Gallatin River in the early 1970s. A few businesses had followed, along with other resort amenities such as a golf course in the lower meadow and ski area on the spectacular Lone Mountain peak.

The marshal’s office was in the lower meadow in a nondescript small wooden building, manned with a marshal, two deputies and a dispatcher. After hours, all calls were routed to the sheriff’s office in Bozeman.

Hud had inherited two green deputies and a dispatcher who was the cousin of the former sheriff and the worst gossip in the state. Not much to work with, especially now that he had a murder on his hands.

He parked in the back and entered the rear door, so lost in thought that he didn’t hear them at first. He stopped just inside the door at the sound of his name being brandished about.

“Well, you know darned well that he had some kind of pull to get this job, even temporarily.” Hud recognized Franklin Morgan’s voice. Franklin was the nephew of former marshal Scott “Scrappy” Morgan. Franklin was a sheriff’s deputy in Bozeman, some forty miles away.

Hud had been warned that Franklin wasn’t happy about not getting the interim marshal job after his uncle left and that there might be some hard feelings. Hud smiled at that understatement as he heard Franklin continue.

“At first I thought he must have bought the job, but hell, the Savages haven’t ever had any money.” This from Shirley Morgan, the dispatcher, and Franklin’s sister. Nepotism was alive and well in the canyon.

“Didn’t his mother’s family have money?” Franklin asked.

“Well, if they did, they didn’t leave it to their daughter after she married Brick Savage,” Shirley said. “But then, can you blame them?”

“Hud seems like he knows what he’s doing,” countered Deputy Norm Turner. Norm was a tall, skinny, shy kid with little to no experience at life or law enforcement from what Hud could tell.

“Maybe Brick pulled some strings to get Hud the job,” Franklin said.

Hud scoffed. Brick wouldn’t pull on the end of a rope if his son was hanging off it from a cliff on the other end.

“Not a chance,” Shirley said with a scornful laugh. “It was that damned Dana Cardwell.”

Hud felt a jolt. Dana?

“Everyone in the canyon does what she wants just like they did when her mother was alive. Hell, those Cardwell women have been running things in this canyon for years. Them and Kitty Randolph. You can bet Dana Cardwell got him the job.”

Hud couldn’t help but smile just thinking how Dana would love to hear that she was responsible for getting him back to town.

Franklin took a drink of his coffee and happened to look up and see Hud standing just inside the doorway. The deputy’s eyes went wide, coffee spewing from his mouth. Hud could see the wheels turning. Franklin was wondering how long Hud had been there and just what he’d overheard.

Norm swung around and about choked on the doughnut he’d just shoved into his mouth.

Shirley, who’d been caught before, didn’t even bother to look innocent. She just scooted her chair through the open doorway to the room that housed the switchboard, closing the door behind her.

Hud watched with no small amount of amusement as the two deputies tried to regain their composure. “Any word from the crime lab?” Hud asked as he proceeded to his office.

Both men answered at the same time.

“Haven’t heard a word.”

“Nothing from our end.” Franklin tossed his foam coffee cup in the trash as if he suddenly remembered something urgent he needed to do. He hightailed it out of the office.

Deputy Turner didn’t have that luxury. “Marshal, about what was being said…”

Hud could have bailed him out, could have pretended he hadn’t heard a word, but he didn’t. He’d been young once himself. He liked to think he’d learned from his mistakes, but coming back here might prove him wrong.

“It’s just that I—I…wanted to say…” The young deputy looked as if he might break down.

“Deputy Turner, don’t you think I know that everyone in the canyon is wondering how I got this job, even temporarily, after what happened five years ago? I’m as surprised as anyone that I’m the marshal for the time being. All I can do is prove that I deserve it. How about you?”

“Yes, sir, that’s exactly how I feel,” he said, his face turning scarlet.

“That’s what I thought,” Hud said, and continued on to his office.

He was anxious to go through the missing person’s file from around fifteen years back. But he quickly saw that all but the last ten years of files had been moved to the Bozeman office.

“We don’t have any records back beyond 1994,” the clerk told him when he called. “That’s when we had the fire. All the records were destroyed.”

Twelve years ago. He’d completely forgotten about the fire. He hung up. All he could hope was that Rupert was wrong. That the woman hadn’t been in the well more than twelve years. Otherwise… He swore.

Otherwise, he would be forced to talk to the former marshal. After all this time, the last thing Hud wanted was to see his father.

“I’M TAKING THE FIRST flight out,” Jordan said without preamble when he called Dana back. “I’ll let you know what time I arrive so you can pick me up at the airport.”

Dana bit down on her tongue, determined not to let him get to her. He seemed to just assume she wouldn’t have anything else to do but pick him up at Gallatin Field, a good fifty miles away. “Jordan, you must have forgotten. I have a job.”

“You’re half owner of a…fabric shop. Don’t tell me you can’t get away.”

She wasn’t going to chauffeur him around the whole time he was here, or worse, let him commandeer her vehicle. She took a breath. She would have loved to have lost her temper and told him just what she thought of him. He was in no position to be asking anything of her.

She let out the breath. “You’ll have to rent a car, Jordan. I’ll be working.” A thought struck her like the back of a hand. “Where will you be staying in case I need to reach you?” Not with her. Please not with her at the ranch.

She heard the knife edge in his voice. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to stay at that old rundown ranch house with you.”

She almost slumped with relief. She’d suspected for some time that he was in financial trouble. Ever since two years ago when he’d married Jill, an out-of-work model, Jordan had seemed desperate for money.

“I assume Jill is coming with you?” Dana said, assuming just the opposite.

“Jill can’t make it this time.”

“Oh?” Dana bit her tongue again, just not quick enough. Jill had set foot in Montana only once and found it too backwoodsy.

“You have something to say, Dana? We all know what an authority you are on romantic relationships.”

The jab felt all the more painful given that Hud was back in town. “At least I had the sense not to marry him.” Instantly she wished she could snatch back the words. “Jordan, I don’t want to fight with you.” It was true. She hated how quickly this had escalated into something ugly. “Let’s not do this.”

“No, Dana, you brought it up,” Jason said. “If you have something to say, let’s hear it.”

“Jordan, you know this isn’t what Mom wanted, us fighting like this.”

He let out a cruel laugh. “You think I care what she wanted? The only thing she ever loved was that damned ranch. And just like her, you chose it over a man.”

“Mom didn’t choose the ranch over Dad,” Dana said. “She tried to make their marriage work. It was Dad who—”

“Don’t be naive, Dana. She drove him away. The same way you did Hud.”

She wasn’t going to discuss this with him. Especially today. Especially with Hud back. “I have to go, Jordan.”

He didn’t seem to hear her. “At least I have someone to warm my bed at night. Can your precious ranch do that?”

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Dana snapped. “Jill will be long gone once you don’t have anything else you can pillage to appease her.”

She knew at once that she’d gone too far. Jordan had never liked to hear the truth.

Dana smacked herself on the forehead, wishing she could take back the angry words. He’d always known how to push her buttons. Isn’t that what siblings were especially adept at because they knew each others’ weaknesses so well?

“Jordan, I’m sorry,” she said, meaning it.

“I’ll have Dad pick me up. But, dear sister, I will deal with you when I see you. And at least buy a damned answering machine.” He slammed down the phone.

She felt dirty, as if she’d been wrestling in the mud as she hung up. She hadn’t wanted the conversation to end like that. It would only make matters worse once he hit town.

She told herself that with luck maybe she wouldn’t have to see him. She wouldn’t have to see any of her siblings. The only one she’d been even a little close to was Clay, the youngest, but she wasn’t even talking to him lately.

And she didn’t want an answering machine. Anyone who needed to reach her, would. Eventually. She could just imagine the kind of messages Jordan would leave her.

She shuddered at the thought. As bad as she felt about the argument and her angry words, she was relieved. At least Jordan wasn’t staying at the ranch, she thought with a rueful smile as she went into the kitchen and poured herself of a glass of wine.

As she did, she heard the sound of a vehicle coming up the road to the house and groaned. Now what?

Glancing out the window she saw the marshal’s black SUV barreling toward her.

This day just kept getting better.

Chapter Four

Across the river and a half mile back up a wide valley, the Cardwell ranch house sat against a backdrop of granite cliffs and towering dark pines. The house was a big, two-story rambling affair with a wide front porch and a new brick-red metal roof.

Behind it stood a huge weathered barn and some outbuildings and corrals. The dark shapes loomed out of the falling snow and darkness as Hud swung the SUV into the ranch yard.

He shut off the engine. Out of habit, he looked up at Dana’s bedroom window. There was nothing but darkness behind the glass but in his mind he could see her waving to him as she’d done so many times years before.

As he got out of the patrol car, ducking deep into his coat against the falling snow, he ran to the porch, half expecting Dana’s mother, Mary Justice Cardwell, to answer the door. Mary had been a ranch woman through and through. No one had ever understood why she’d married Angus Cardwell. He’d been too handsome and charming for his own good, with little ambition and even less regard for ranch work. But he’d also been heir to the C-Bar Ranch adjacent to the Justice Ranch.

When the two had married, so had the ranches. The combined spread became the Cardwell Ranch.

No one had been surprised when the two divorced. Or when Angus gave up the ranch to Mary.

People were just surprised that the two stayed together long enough to have four children.

And Angus and Mary had certainly produced beautiful children.

Jordan, the oldest, was almost too good-looking and had definitely taken after his father. Clay was the youngest, a slim, quiet young man who worked in local theater groups.

Then there was Stacy, two years older than Dana, cheerleader cute. Stacy had cashed in on her looks her whole life, trading up in three marriages so far. He didn’t like to think about Stacy.

There was no comparison between the two sisters. While Dana also had the Justice-Cardwell good looks, she had something more going for her. She’d been the good student, the hard worker, the one who wanted to carry on the family tradition at the ranch, while the others had cut and run the first chance they got.

Dana, like her mother, loved everything about ranching. It and breathing were one and the same to her. That’s why he couldn’t understand why Dana would be selling the place. It scared him.

He couldn’t stand the thought that he’d come back too late. Or worse that he’d been carrying a torch for a woman who no longer existed.

As he started to knock, he heard a dog growl and looked over to see a gray-muzzled, white-and-liver springer spaniel.

“Joe?” He couldn’t believe his eyes. He knelt as the dog lumbered over to him, tail wagging with recognition. “Joe, hey, old boy. I didn’t think you’d still be around.” He petted the dog, happy to see a friendly face from the past.

“Was there something you wanted?”

He hadn’t heard the front door open. Dana stood leaning against the frame, a glass of wine in her hand and a look that said she was in no mood for whatever he was selling.

He wished like hell that he wasn’t going to add to her troubles. “Evening,” he said, tipping his hat as he gave Joe a pat and straightened. “Mind if I come in for a few minutes? I need to talk to you.”

“If this has something to do with you and me…”