Free Death Rides Again (A Jocelyn Shore Mystery) by Janice Hamrick Page B

hours, sir, and that she’s an adult.”
    “What difference does that make? You think giving a kidnapper a head start is a good idea?”
    We all looked at Kel with some concern. Color was already rising in his face, a deep anger obvious just below the barely controlled words. What in the world was going on with him?
    Colin chose to address the issue with logic. “Do you have any reason to think that she’s been kidnapped?”
    “Goddamn it, I know she has! That son of a bitch she’s married to has taken her somewhere.”
    “But Kel,” I protested. “I saw Eddy at the rodeo. Ruby June wasn’t with him.”
    He whipped around on me, eyes wild. “Where? Where was he? Why the hell didn’t you call me?”
    At the sound of her husband’s rising voice, Aunt Elaine materialized from somewhere in the back of the house. She laid a hand on his arm. “Honey, the rodeo is over, Eddy’s not there anymore, and Ruby June is going to walk back in here tomorrow for Thanksgiving supper and wonder what you were fussing about. Now, come on. You said you’d play Hearts with Scotty and Gladys and me. Let’s go and let the kids have a chance to catch up with each other.”
    We watched as she herded him into the kitchen, followed closely and somewhat reluctantly by Gladys and Scotty.
    Scotty was already protesting. “Hearts? I can’t even remember how to play that. What about poker?”
    “Hearts,” answered Gladys firmly.
    The rest of us stood silent, processing what had just happened. My mind raced. Why in the world was Kel so worried about Ruby June, and what else was going on to make him so volatile? This was not the steady, reasonable, and almost placid man that I remembered from my teenage summers on this ranch. Maybe Colin was right to be concerned about his mental state.
    After a moment, Will turned to Colin and asked, “So you’re a cop, huh? You ever shoot anyone?”
    “Not yet,” answered Colin with a pointed look at him.
    This produced a burst of appreciative laughter, and I gave a sigh of relief. The mysterious man-grilling was over, and Colin had passed.
    Sam grinned. “It’s still early. Who wants to go varmint hunting?”
    *   *   *
    Twenty minutes later, the red ranch truck bounced over uneven roads, outraged shock absorbers squeaking in protest, wheels throwing a plume of white dust into the darkness behind us. Overhead, the stars were brilliant crystals in the vast black pool of the sky, and the moon, almost full, cast its silvery light over the rolling fields, so bright that the single live oak in the center of a field cast a perfect shadow onto the surrounding grass. The white caliche turned the road into a pale ribbon undulating through mysterious turns and twists, appearing on hillcrest, then vanishing over a ridge. The breeze in our faces was cold and smelled of dry grass, cattle, and cedar. Standing in the bed of the truck, I clung to the metal bars of the rear window guard, alternately laughing and pounding on the roof of the cab for the driver, my brother Sam, to slow down. Beside me, Colin gripped the guard with one hand, but gamely held a spotlight high with the other, sweeping the brilliant light back and forth in front of the truck. From inside the truck, Sam, his wife Christy, and my other brother Will shouted conflicting suggestions about where to shine the beam.
    Colin swept the light along the left side of the truck, and the eyes of some animal flashed like two bright white sparks.
    “There!” Colin shouted, and held the beam steady.
    I pounded on the roof again, and my brother turned into the field, bumping through the long grass and over invisible bumps and ridges with bone-jarring speed. As we drew closer, the white sparks blinked off briefly, then appeared again.
    “Oh, man!” came a disappointed shout from the cab. “It’s just a goat.”
    And sure enough, we pulled up beside a brown and white mottled goat, blinking sleepily at us from a nest in the long grass. She could have