Free The Trap by Joan Lowery Nixon Page B

You were hiding from me! You scared me!” I snapped back at him. “What were you doing there?”
    Cal handed me the reins and drew his own horse back without answering. He wheeled his horse around and rode into the darkness.
    I urged Duffy on, and he trotted directly to the stables, where the groom gave me another scolding for coming back so late.
    Shaken, I drove home to Glenda and Gabe.
    Glenda met me at the door, and she was obviously upset. Her hands shook as she reached for me and pulled me inside the house.
    “I’m sorry I’m so late,” I began, but she brushed my apology aside.
    “Eugene Barrow died a short time ago,” she said.
    “Ann Barrow’s husband? What happened?” I asked. Glenda led me to the sofa, and we sat together. Gabe, a worried frown on his face, watched us from his reclining chair.
    “All I heard from Mabel, when she called me, was that they’re guessing that Eugene mistakenly took too much of his heart medication. The bottle was lying onthe floor, nearly empty. Even a normal dose made him dizzy if he stood up too suddenly. A stronger dose would have had a worse effect.”
    “His medication killed him?” I asked.
    “Oh, no, Julie. It just made him dizzy, so it’s no wonder that he fell.”
    A shiver ran up my backbone. A third husband falling—two of them to their deaths? What was going on?
    Glenda continued. “He struck his head on the ledge of the stone fireplace. Just think, he built that fireplace himself two years ago when he and Ann came here to live.”
    “I’m so sorry it happened,” I said. “Was Mrs. Barrow with him when he fell?”
    Sighing, Glenda answered, “Ann wasn’t home. She had gone to play bridge at the clubhouse, as she and Eugene have done every Friday night. He complained that he didn’t feel like going, so this time she went without him. That makes it even more terrible for her. She blames herself. She said she should have been with Eugene, supervising his medication, but Mabel told me what she had told Ann—that Eugene has been relatively healthy and has never needed supervision before.”
    Glenda clutched my hands, pleading, “Julie, will you drive me to see Ann Barrow? I want to pay my respects and bring a pound cake I’ve got in the freezer.”
    I cleaned up in a hurry and was dressed and ready to leave by the time Glenda’s cake was on a plate.
    “Are you sure you’ll be all right by yourself for a little while? We won’t be long,” she told Gabe.
    I could hear the worry in her voice. I was a little worried too. I felt torn in two directions, but Glenda was in no state to drive herself.
    “I’ll be fine,” Gabe answered.
    “Should I try to get hold of Millie Lee? Maybe she’d be free to sit with you.”
    Gabe’s eyebrows ran together like a shaggy caterpillar and he thundered, “You think I need a babysitter? At my age?”
    “I just—”
    “I’ll be all right by myself! Now go!”
    Although Glenda had told me they rarely locked the outside doors, since they felt so well protected on the ranch, I noticed that she carefully locked the back and front doors as we left the house.
    Quite a few people were crowded into the Barrows’ living room when we arrived. Glenda hugged Mrs. Barrow tightly and they both cried a little as we told her how sorry we were about her husband’s sudden death.
    I recognized the women who had been at the luncheon, and I was introduced to a number of husbands. Casseroles, salads, platters of cheese and sliced ham, and plates of cookies and cakes filled the dining room table, and people were helping themselves to coffee from a large urn at one end of the sideboard.
    I said hello to Millie Lee, who had come to help out in the kitchen, and was glad to see that Ashley was with her.
    “I was hoping you’d come to see me yesterday or today,” I told Ashley.
    She watched her grandmother pull the wrap from a plate of brownies and head with the plate toward the dining room before she answered. “Gran took on a new