Crime Scene at Cardwell Ranch - B.J. Daniels [17]
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…"
"No." He gave her a rueful smile. There was no "you and me"—not anymore. Not ever again from the look in her brown eyes. "It's about what we found in the well."
All the starch seemed to go out of her. She stepped back, motioning him in.
He took off his hat and stepped in to slip off his boots and his jacket before following her through the very Western living area with its stone and wood to the bright, big airy kitchen. Joe followed at his heels.
"Have a seat."
Hud pulled out a chair at the large worn oak table, put his Stetson on an adjacent chair and sat.
Dana frowned as Joe curled up at his feet. "Traitor," she mouthed at the dog.
Hud looked around, memories of all the times he'd sat in this kitchen threatening to drown him. Mary Justice Cardwell at the stove making dinner, Dana helping, all of them chatting about the goings-on at the ranch,