Free Bluegrass Peril by Virginia Smith Page B

morning was to finish labeling the files for all that junk in Neal’s drawer while the kids watched Saturday-morning cartoons on the TV. After she made up a few of the hours she missed Thursday afternoon, she’d promised the boys a trip to the park to feed the ducks.
    Neal’s truck still sat in the driveway, unmoved since Wednesday night. Today, Scott’s truck was parked alongside it, and both the front and back barn doors stood open. Neal usually left the front doors closed. A small difference, but one that served as a reminder that Neal was no longer in charge of Out to Pasture.
    The moment she turned the key and cut the engine, the boys tumbled out the back doors and took off at a run toward the barn. Becky gathered her purse, watching through the windshield as Sam greeted them, his tail whipping back and forth while they petted and hugged him. She opened the car door, her pulse speeding up when Scott stepped to the wide barn doorway to meet her sons.
    “Hello, there! You must not be strangers, or my guard dog wouldn’t be licking your faces.”
    “Sam knows us.” Jamie stared at him with serious eyes. “He’s our friend.”
    Scott grinned at her, but he answered Jamie with utmost seriousness. “I can see that.”
    Jamie stood straight and stuck out a hand. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Jamie Dennison.”
    Becky hid a smile. At least Jamie had listened to her lecture on manners this morning. Maybe Tyler would follow his brother’s lead.
    Scott returned Jamie’s greeting formally. “Nice to meet you, Jamie. I’m Scott Lewis.”
    When Scott released his hand, Tyler shoved his forward. “I’m Tyler. Are you going to fire my mom if I act like a savage?”
    With a groan, Becky leaned against the hood of her car and shook her head. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Scott considering his answer. “Probably not,” he told Tyler, “but I might ask her to keep you in the office so you won’t get in my way out here. Only big kids who behave themselves can help with the horses, you know.”
    Tyler’s face lit with excitement at the suggestion of helping with the horses. “I’m a big kid. I’m in kindergarten.”
    Scott grinned at her over the tops of two dark heads. “Good. I can use some helpers today.”
    Becky opened her mouth to protest. She didn’t come to work on a Saturday to play with horses. She had things to do in the office. And she couldn’t dump the boys on Scott while she went inside.
    Her protest died unspoken as a car pulled into the driveway. The sunlight gleamed on the polished hood of a gold Mercedes Roadster. It slowed to a stop midway down the driveway, the sun’s rays reflecting off the windshield so that Becky couldn’t see the driver clearly. She glanced at Scott, who shrugged.
    Becky approached the driver’s door and stopped beside the tinted windows. After a moment, the window opened a few inches, revealing a woman in large dark sunglasses with a tan print scarf covering her head.
    Odd. Sometimes people came on Saturdays for a tour, but she hadn’t made note on the calendar of anyone scheduled for today. Maybe this woman was out for a drive and stopped in when she saw the sign by the road.
    “Hello.” Becky dipped her head toward the window. “Are you here for a tour?”
    The dark glasses hid most of the woman’s face, but her lips, unadorned with lipstick, tightened into a crooked line for a moment before she answered. “No. I…uh, no.”
    Was that a sob that broke her voice? Becky couldn’t be sure, but the skin on her arm prickled with sudden suspicion. Could this woman be the mysterious “L”? Maybe the owner of the footprint returning to check out the scene of her crime?
    “What can we do for you, Ms….” She let her tone rise, an unspoken request for the stranger’s name.
    “Keller.” The woman’s lips snapped shut. She faced forward, staring through the windshield at the place where Scott and the boys stood near the entrance to the barn, watching