Justice at Cardwell Ranch

“Isn’t she beautiful?”

“She’s breathtaking. What’s her name?”

“Ella.”

Dana looked up at her sister, her gaze going to Stacy’s bare left-hand ring finger. “Is there a father?”

“Of course,” her sister said with an embarrassed laugh. “He’s in the military. We’re getting married when he comes home in a few weeks.”

Stacy had gone through men like tissues during a sad movie. In the past she’d married for money. Maybe this time she had found something more important, Dana hoped, glancing down at the baby in her arms.

“Hello, Ella,” she said to the baby. The bow-shaped lips turned up at the corners, the green eyes sparkling. “How old is she?”

“Six months.”

As the baby began to fuss, Stacy dug in a diaper bag Dana hadn’t seen at the end of the couch. She pulled out a bottle before going into the kitchen to warm it.

Dana stared at the precious baby, her heart in her throat. She couldn’t imagine her sister with a baby. In the past Stacy couldn’t even keep a houseplant alive.

As her sister came out of the kitchen, Dana started to hand back the baby.

“You can feed her if you want.”

Dana took the bottle and watched the baby suck enthusiastically at the warm formula. “She’s adorable.” Her sister didn’t seem to be listening though.

Stacy had walked over to the window and was looking out. “I forgot how quiet it is here.” She hugged herself as a gust of wind rattled the old window. “Or how cold it is this time of year.”

“Where have you been living?”

“Southern California,” she said, turning away from the window.

“Is that where you met the father?”

Stacy nodded. “It’s getting late. Ella and I should go.”

“Where are you going?” Dana asked, alarmed, realizing that she’d been cross-examining her sister as if Stacy was one of Hud’s suspects. She couldn’t bear the thought of this baby being loaded into that old car outside with Stacy at the wheel.

“I planned to get a motel for the night. Kurt’s got some relatives up by Great Falls. They’ve offered me a place to stay until he gets leave and we can find a place of our own.”

Dana shook her head, still holding tight to the baby. “You’re staying here. You and Ella can have Mary’s room. I don’t want you driving at night.”

LIZA SWUNG THE BARREL OF HER gun and snapped on her flashlight, aiming both at Jordan. “Put your hands up,” she ordered.

He didn’t move. He stood stock-still, staring down at the body at his feet. He appeared to be in shock.

“I said put your hands up,” she ordered again. He blinked and slowly raised his gaze to her, then lifted his hands. Keeping the gun trained on him, she quickly frisked him. “Where is the weapon?” She nudged him with the point of her gun barrel.

He shook his head. “I didn’t shoot him.”

Liza took a step back from him and shone the flashlight beam into the pines. The light didn’t go far in the dense trees and darkness. “Who shot him?”

“I don’t know.”

She squatted down to check for a pulse. None. Pulling out her phone, she called for backup and the coroner. When she’d finished, she turned the beam on Jordan again. “You can start by telling me what you’re doing out here.”

He looked down at the body, then up at her. “You know I didn’t kill him.”

“How do I know that?”

True, she hadn’t seen him carrying a rifle, but he could have hidden one in the woods earlier today. But how did he get rid of it so quickly? She would have heard him throw it into the trees.

“What are you doing here at the falls in the middle of the night?”

He looked away.

She began to read him his rights.

“All right,” he said with a sigh. “You aren’t going to believe me. I was meeting him here.”

“To buy drugs?”

“No.” He looked insulted. “It’s a long story.”

“We seem to have time.” She motioned to a downed tree not far from the body but deep enough in the trees that if the killer was still out there, he wouldn’t have a clear shot.

Jordan sighed as he sat down, dropping his head in his hands for a few moments. “When I was in high school my best friend hung himself. At least that’s what everyone thought, anyway. I didn’t believe he would do that, but there was no evidence of foul play. Actually, no one believed me when I argued there was no way Tanner would have taken his own life.”

“People often say that about suicide victims.”

“Yeah. Well, a few weeks ago, I got a call from …” He looked in the direction of the body, but quickly turned away. “Alex Winslow.”

“Is that the victim?”

He nodded. “Alex asked if I was coming back for our twenty-year high-school reunion.”

“You were?” She couldn’t help her surprise.

He gave her an are-you-kidding look. “I told him no. That’s when he mentioned Tanner.”

“Alex Winslow told you he was looking into Tanner’s death?”

“Not in so many words. He said something like, ‘Do you ever think about Tanner?’ He sounded like he’d been drinking. At first I just thought it was the booze talking.”

He told her about the rest of the conversation, apparently quoting Alex as best as he could remember.

“Man, it would take something to hang yourself,” Alex had said. “Put that noose around your neck and stand there balancing on nothing more than a log stump. One little move … Who would do that unless they were forced to? You know, like at gunpoint or … I don’t know, maybe get tricked into standing up there?”

“What are you saying?”