Crime Scene at Cardwell Ranch - B.J. Daniels [48]
"I understand it's an expensive piece of jewelry," Hud said.
"The only piece of real jewelry the judge ever bought me. When we married, he couldn't afford a diamond." Her voice broke.
Hud frowned. "Wouldn't you have kept a piece of expensive jewelry like that in a safe or a safe-deposit box at the bank?"
Ahead he could see the lights of Big Sky. The Kirk brothers hadn't found the safe. Nor would they have known how to open it if they had.
"I thought it was in the safe," Kitty said. "Obviously, I had taken it out to wear it and forgot to put it back. The judge probably saw it and put it in the jewelry box with his cuff links and his father's old pocket watch."
But it didn't explain how the ring ended up in the well. "I'll see what I can do about getting the ring returned to you as soon as possible," Hud told her.
"Thank you. I can't tell you what your call has meant to me. Good night, Hud."
He disconnected as he turned off and drove up to Big Sky's lower meadow. As he started to turn down the street to Needles and Pins, a car whipped out of the marshal's office parking lot, tossing up gravel.
The driver spotted him and threw on his brakes. The vehicle's door flew open and Jordan Cardwell jumped out.
"I want to talk to you, Savage," he said, storming over to the SUV.
"How about that," Hud said. "I want to talk to you, too, Jordan. Now just isn't a great time."
"Too bad," Jordan said. "I want to know what the hell is going on out at the ranch."
* * *
DANA STOPPED AT THE EDGE of the building across the street from the fabric shop, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. The air was cold, the shadows dark and deep along the side of the building.
She saw that the sidewalk across the front had been shoveled but there was new snow along the side of the closed office building. She stepped into the dark shadows almost convinced she'd only imagined a figure standing here. What fool would stand in all that snow just to—
She saw the fresh tracks. Her heart lodged in her throat. The snow was tramped where someone had stood. Waiting. She glanced behind her and saw that from this spot, the person had a clear view of the shop.
Behind the spot where the snow was trampled was a set of tracks that came up the narrow passage alongside the building. Another set returned to the alley.
For one wild moment she thought about following them. She even placed her boot into one track. The shoe size was larger than her own, but the edges caved in after each step the person had taken so it was impossible to gauge a true size of the print.
She shivered as she looked toward the dark alley, seeing nothing but the tracks. Only a fool would follow them. Whoever had been standing here watching the shop only minutes ago might not be gone, she told herself. He'd seen her look out the window. Maybe that's what he'd been waiting for. For her to see him. And follow him?
But why? It made no sense. It was as if someone was just trying to scare her. Unless the chocolates were filled with poison. And she was the one who was supposed to have been knocked down into the well last night.
Just like Ginger Adams had been?
Just like her caller had said.
She hugged herself against the bone-deep cold of her thoughts as she turned and ran back across the street. Halfway across she noticed the shop door. She'd left it wide open, but now it was closed. The wind must have blown it shut.
But as she opened it and stepped tentatively inside, she tried to remember feeling even the slightest breeze while she was across the street—and couldn't.
As she stood in the darkened shop, she realized someone could have slipped in while she was gone. It had been stupid to run out like that and leave the door wide open. Worse, she realized, she hadn't locked the back door of the shop