Free In the Shadow of Death by Gwendolyn Southin Page A

does on a dude ranch.”
    â€œWho could’ve taken that money?” Maggie exclaimed after Brossard had left. “I swear I put it in the top drawer of the dresser.”
    â€œIt had to be the person who shot at you,” Kate replied fearfully.
    â€œBut how? We’ve been in all the time . . . ” her voice trailed off. “Except when we went into Williams Lake yesterday. Did you lock the doors?”
    Kate’s face paled. “No, I never do. Douglas is always after me to lock the doors during the day, but I always forget.”
    â€œThat means,” Maggie said slowly, “that whoever shot at me yesterday has been watching the house for an opportunity to get the pouch back.”
    â€œOh, Maggie,” Kate grabbed her arm, “I’m so frightened.”
    â€œWe’ll just have to make sure we lock up in future.” But it’s a bit like locking the stable doors after the horse has bolted, Maggie thought. “Come on. Let’s take a cup of coffee into the den and have a look through your husband’s files.”
    â€œWhatever for?”
    â€œWe won’t know till we look.”
    A short time later, the two of them were sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by beige folders—the entire contents of one drawer of Guthrie’s desk. At first the files seemed to contain only invoices for running the ranch, covering everything from cattle feed to horses to harnesses and leather polish. All appeared to be up-to-date and fully paid.
    â€œI still don’t understand what we are looking for?” Kate said.
    â€œAnything unusual,” she answered, picking up a folder and scanning the contents. “Like this one, for instance.” She passed the file over to Kate. “What’s this bill from Johnson and Spiegel’s detective agency for?”
    Kate took the paper from Maggie. “It doesn’t say what it’s for. Why would Douglas need the services of a detective?” She sat looking at the invoice and then pointed to a small note at the bottom. “See file on L.S. It’s dated January 30 this year.”
    â€œHang onto that one,” Maggie said, opening another drawer. The deeper she dug into Guthrie’s files, the more his personality came through. Everything perfectly neat and under control. The second drawer contained business correspondence, contracts for the ranch workers, and several letters regarding his takeover of the original ranch from his father, as well as the agreement for the purchase of an additional one thousand acres from a man called Doug Rooney. Most of the remaining folders contained information on the farm’s employees, both past and present, but the last folder was unmarked. “I think I’ve found our L.S.,” Maggie announced. She took the single sheet of paper out of the folder. “It’s a report from Johnson and Spiegel.”
    â€œWhat does it say?”
    Maggie read it through before answering. “It appears that whoever L.S. is, he came into a lot of money, and for some reason Doug got the detective agency to find out where it came from. It says here . . .” she continued, reading from the paper, “ I could find no trace of the subject inheriting any sudden wealth or any business transaction that would account for increased funds. ” Maggie tapped the folder “L.S.,” she mused, “L.S. . . . that could be Lewis Sarazine.”
    â€œBut why would Douglas be interested in where that man got his money?”
    The previous day’s horse ride had caught up with Maggie and she stood, moved over to the window and stretched. The gentle rain had stopped and everything had a clean, washed look. It was such a peaceful-looking lake. “I didn’t realize this was a sliding door onto the deck,” she exclaimed, sliding it open.
    â€œWhy don’t you go out there for awhile and I’ll bring you some lunch,” Kate suggested.