Crime Scene at Cardwell Ranch - B.J. Daniels [35]
Dana picked up several spools of thread and held them to the pants in Kitty Randolph's bag.
She gave the elderly woman a short version of the discovery in the well.
"Any idea who she was?" Kitty asked.
Dana shook her head. "We might never know."
Kitty purchased her thread and left, promising to bring some of her wonderful chocolate chip cookies the next time she stopped by.
* * *
ARMED WITH PHOTOGRAPHS and information about the emerald ring found in the well, Hud drove to Bozeman first thing.
The jewelry store was one of those small, exclusive shops on Main Street. Hud tapped at the door just over the Closed sign and a fit-looking, gray-haired man unlocked the door.
"Marshal Savage," the jeweler said, extending his hand. "You made good time."
Hud handed him the photographs and information taken from the ring.
"Oh yes," Brad Andrews said as he examined the photos. "I remember this ring very well. A one-carat emerald set in a pear-shape with two half-carat diamonds on each side. A beautiful ring. Something you would notice a woman wearing." He looked up, still nodding.
"You can tell me who purchased the ring?" Hud asked.
"Of course. I remember this ring well. It was a twenty-fifth anniversary present. Judge Randolph purchased it for his wife, Kitty."
* * *
AS KITTY RANDOLPH LEFT Needles and Pins, several other ladies from the canyon entered the shop, also using the excuse of needing fabric or patterns or thread when they were really just interested in the latest goings on at the Cardwell Ranch.
Dana could see how her day was going to go, but better here than being at the ranch. Especially alone.
At least that's what she thought until the bell over the door at Needles and Pins jangled and the last person she wanted to see came through the door.
Dana looked up from the fabric she was pricing and swore under her breath. Hilde had gone to the post office to mail a special fabric order so Dana was alone with no place to run as her sister Stacy stepped into the shop.
Stacy glanced around, looking almost afraid as she moved slowly to the counter and Dana.
Dana waited, wondering what her sister was doing here. Stacy didn't sew and, as far as Dana knew, had never been in the store before.
Stacy was two years her senior, with the same dark hair, the same dark eyes, and that was where the similarities ended. Stacy was willowy-thin, a true beauty and all girl. She'd never been a tomboy like Dana, just the opposite. Stacy had hated growing up on the ranch, wanting even from a very young age to live on a street in town that had sidewalks. "I never want to smell cow manure again," she'd said when she'd left home at eighteen. "And I will never marry a cowboy."
Dana always thought Stacy should have been more specific about the type of man she would marry. She'd married at nineteen, divorced at twenty-two, married again at twenty-four, divorced at twenty-nine, married again at thirty-two and divorced. None of them were cowboys.
"Hi, Dana," Stacy said quietly.
"Is there something I can help you with?" Dana asked in her storeowner tone.
Stacy flushed. "I…no…that is I don't want to buy anything." She clutched her purse, her fingers working the expensive leather. "I just wanted to talk to you."
Dana hadn't seen Stacy since their mother's funeral and they hadn't spoken then. Nor did she want to speak to her now. "I don't think we have anything to talk about."
"Jordan asked me to stop by," Stacy said, looking very uncomfortable.
Jordan. Perfect. "He didn't have the guts to do it himself?"
Stacy sighed. "Dana."
"What is it Jordan couldn't ask me?" She hated to think what it would be since her brother hadn't seemed to have any trouble making demands of her yesterday on the