Crime Scene at Cardwell Ranch - B.J. Daniels [30]
But as she picked up the shotgun and stepped out the back door into the darkness and snow, she was still plagued with the feeling that the worst was yet to come. And then there was her stupid birthday wish!
She took the road, feeling fairly safe that she couldn't be seen since she couldn't see her hand in front of her face through the snowfall. Sometimes she would catch a glimpse of the mountainside as a gust of wind whirled the snow away. But they were fleeting sightings and she was still too far away to be seen, so she kept moving.
The air was cold. It burned her throat, the snow getting in her eyes. She stared upward, straining to see the chimney, reminded of ranchers' stories about stringing clotheslines from the house to the barn so they didn't get lost in a blizzard.
She'd always prided herself on her sense of direction but she didn't chance it tonight. She could feel the rut of the road on the edge of her boot as she walked, the shotgun heavy in her hands, but at the same time reassuring.
As she neared the homestead, a gust of wind swirled the snow around her and for an instant she saw the chimney dark against the white background. It quickly disappeared but not before she'd seen a figure crouched at the edge of the old homestead foundation.
* * *
HUD FOLLOWED THE ROPE to the well, stopping just short of the edge to listen. A gust of wind swirled the snow around him. He edged closer to the hole. The rope dropped over the side into blackness. Still hearing nothing, he pointed the flashlight down into the well, snapped on the light and jerked back, startled.
He wasn't sure what he'd expected to see dangling from the rope. Possibly a person climbing down. Or trying to climb out.
He holstered his weapon, then kneeling, he shone the flashlight to get a better look. It was a doll, the rope looped like a noose around its neck.
What the hell?
He picked up the rope and pulled it until the doll was within a few feet of the top. Its face caught in the beam of his flashlight and he let out a gasp, all his breath rushing from him.
The doll had Dana's face.
He lost his grasp on the rope. The doll dropped back into the well. As he reached for the rope to stop its fall, he sensed rather than heard someone behind him.
Half turning, he caught movement as a large dark figure, the face in shadow, lunged at him, swinging one of the boards from the well.
A shotgun discharged close by as he tried to pull his weapon but wasn't quick enough. The board slammed into his shoulder, pitching him forward toward the gaping hole in the earth.
Hud dropped the flashlight and grabbed for the rope with both hands, hoping to break his fall if not stop it.
His gloved hands wrapped around the rope, but the weight of his falling body propelled him over the side and partway down into the cold darkness of the well. He banged against the well wall with his left shoulder and felt pain shoot up his arm. But he'd managed to catch himself.
He dangled from the rope, the doll hanging below him. He was breathing hard, his mind racing. Where the hell had the shotgun blast come from? He had a bad feeling he knew.
Bracing his feet against the wall, he managed to pull the gun from his holster, telling himself it couldn't have been Dana. He'd told her to stay in the ranch house.
He looked up, pointing the gun toward the well opening. He could wait for his attacker or climb out. Snowflakes spiraled down from a sky that seemed to shimmer above him iridescent white. He squinted, listening.
Another shotgun blast, this one closer.
Hud climbed as best he could without relinquishing his weapon. Only seconds had passed since the attack. But now time seemed to stand still.
Then in the distance he heard the growl of an engine turning over and, a moment later, another shadow fell over the top of the well above him.
He looked up through the falling snow and saw the most beautiful