Crime Scene at Cardwell Ranch - B.J. Daniels [54]
"I wanted us to visit before the others got here."
She turned to look at him. He was trying to give her the impression he'd been sitting there waiting patiently for her—not upstairs snooping around. Her brother really was a liar. She'd always known that Jordan was a lot of things, but she was starting to worry that he could be a lot more than just a liar. He could be a murderer.
"Visit?" she said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. "Let me guess what you want to visit about."
"Isn't it possible I might just want to see you before the others arrive?" he demanded. Another lie.
"No. Not unless you want to tell me the truth about what you were doing up in Mother's old room."
He made an ugly face in answer to being found out.
"Or I can tell you," she said against the advice of the little voice in her head warning her to be careful. "You were looking for Mom's will. The one you said didn't exist. In fact, you accused me of making up the story to hold up the sale of the ranch."
"I still believe that."
She felt her anger rise. "If I didn't know better I'd swear you staged that scene last night at the well."
Jordan stared at her. "What are you talking about?"
"Last night." Dana said, biting off each word. "Someone tried to trick me into coming up to the well. To kill me. Or just get me away from the house so you could search for the will. Hud was almost killed."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Jordan snapped. "Remember? I didn't even fly in until today."
"How do I know you aren't lying again."
Jordan downed the rest of his drink and slammed the glass down on the end table as he launched himself to his feet. "I'm sick of this." He stormed across the room until he stood towering over her. "The ranch is going on the market," he snapped, grabbing both of her shoulders in his hands. "You are going to quit using every legal maneuver possible to hold up the sale."
She tried to pull free, his fingers biting into her flesh.
He gave her a shake. "There is no will. Or if there is, you can't produce it." His words were like the hiss of a snake, his face within inches of hers. "You have no choice, Dana, so stop fighting me or you'll be sorry you were ever born, you stubborn damned—"
The sound of the front door opening killed the rest of his words. He let go of Dana at once and stepped back as Stacy asked, "What's going on?"
"Nothing," Jordan said sullenly. "We were just waiting for you and Clay. Where the hell is Clay, anyway? And what is that?"
Dana never thought she'd be relieved to see her sister. She was also surprised by Stacy's attitude. Her sister never stood up to Jordan but clearly she was angry with him now. Because of what she'd just witnessed?
Her hands trembling, Dana reached for the container in Stacy's hand and instantly regretted taking it.
Through the clear plastic lid she could see the crudely printed words: "Happy Birthday, Dana!" on what was obviously a homemade cake. Stacy had baked?
Dana didn't want to feel touched by the gesture, but she did as she heard the sound of another car coming in from the highway. She realized she and Jordan would have heard Stacy arrive if they hadn't been hollering at each other. Her shoulders still hurt from where he'd grabbed her.
"That must be Clay now," Stacy said, still glaring at Jordan.
He shoved past Stacy and out the front door.
Stacy shrugged out of her coat as she looked around the living room as if she hadn't seen it in a very long time. She hadn't and Dana wondered if her sister might be starting to have doubts about selling the place.
"I wish you hadn't done this," Dana said to her sister, holding up the cake.
"It was nothing," Stacy said, dropping her head.
Dana studied her for a moment wondering if the cake wasn't just a ploy to get back into her good graces so Dana would quit fighting the sale of the ranch. Now that Dana thought about, she wouldn't have been surprised if the cake was Jordan's idea.
Jordan came back in the house, stomping his feet loudly, Clay at his heels.
"Hi, sis," Clay said