Crime Scene at Cardwell Ranch - B.J. Daniels [32]
"When was the last time you saw the doll?" he asked. The doll's hair was flattened with snow. Careful not to disturb any fingerprints that might be on it, he brushed the snow away, shocked again how much the face resembled Dana's.
"I don't know. The toys have been on the shelves in the playroom for so long I hardly notice. I don't go into that room much." Another catch in her voice. The playroom would only remind her of her mother, he thought. "I'd forgotten about the doll."
Well someone else hadn't.
She shivered as if she'd had the same thought.
"Let's get back to the house and out of this weather," he said.
The sky over their heads was a deep, cold midnight blue as they walked back toward the ranch house. A few stars glittered like ice crystals as a sliver of moon peaked out from behind a cloud.
He made her wait on the porch, leaving her still armed with the reloaded shotgun while he searched the house. There was no sign that anyone had been there—not to drop off a box of chocolates or to steal a doll from a shelf in her old playroom.
"All clear," he said, opening the front door.
She stepped in, breaking down the shotgun and removing the shells. He watched her put the shotgun by the door, pocket the shells and turn toward him again. "Let me see your arm," she ordered.
He started to protest, but she was already helping him off with his jacket. His uniform shirt was also torn and bloodied though the cut in his upper arm didn't look deep from what he could see.
"Come in here," she said, and he followed her to the kitchen where she motioned to a chair.
He sat, watching her as she brought out a first-aid kit. He rolled his shirt sleeve up as she sat next to him, all her attention on the three-inch gash in his arm.
"You shouldn't have come up there, but I appreciate what you did," he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. "You quite possibly saved my life tonight."
"You should get stitches," she said as if she hadn't heard him. "Otherwise it will leave a scar."
"It won't be my first," he said.
She mugged a disapproving face and said, "This is going to sting." Her fingers gripped his upper arm.
He winced, the disinfectant burning into the cut.
"I warned you," she said, glancing up into his face. "Sure you don't want a ride to the emergency room?"
"Positive. A few butterfly bandages and I'll be as good as new."
She looked doubtful but went to work. He'd seen her doctor horses and cows before. He doubted doctoring him was any different for her. Except she liked the horses and cows better.
He couldn't help but think about the kiss. Man, how he had missed her.
"There, that should at least keep it from getting infected," she said, slamming the lid on her first aid kit and rising from the chair.
He touched her wrist and she met his gaze again. "Thanks."
She nodded and went to put the kit away.
He rose from the chair. "Mind if I take a look where that doll was kept?"
"I don't see how—" She stopped, then shrugged as if she didn't have the energy to argue.
He reminded himself that it was her birthday for a few more hours. What a lousy birthday.
He followed her up the stairs to what had once been her playroom. Mary had left it just as it had been when the kids were little.
The room was large with a table at its center surrounded by small chairs. There were books everywhere in the room and several huge toy boxes. The Cardwell kids had been blessed. One wall was filled with shelves and toys. There was a small tea set, stuffed animals, dolls and large trucks.
In the center, high on the wall, was a gaping hole where something had been removed. "That's where she has always been," Dana said, hugging herself as she stared at the empty spot on the shelf as if the realization that someone had to have come into the house and taken the doll had finally hit home.
"Who knew about the doll?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Only everyone who knew me. Angus probably showed it off at the bar for days before my sixth birthday. You know how he is."
Hud nodded. Anyone in the canyon could have known