A Deadly Affair at Bobtail Ridge Read Online Free PDF Page B

blame him,” Truly says. “I’m glad it was you and not me found that rattler. You know I hate snakes.”
    â€œI know you do, and I can’t say I was too fond of this one myself.”
    â€œWhat’d you do with the carcass?”
    â€œI hung it on the fence.”
    â€œGood. I’ll take it to a lady I know who makes things with snakeskin. How about lye soap? Did you put some in the stall?”
    â€œI’ll take a bar over there now.”
    I don’t really believe in the old tale that says where there’s one snake there’s two and that a bar of lye soap will keep the second one away. But it can’t hurt to put the soap out. I take the pitchfork and toss the straw in the stall around to make sure there are no more surprises.
    When Truly arrives we coax Mahogany into the stall. Between the cut lock and the timber rattler that’s out of its territory, I can’t help wondering if somebody has it in for these horses—someone who knows how much Jenny cares for them.

CHAPTER 6
    I’m glad that Truly is spending the night with the horses so I don’t have to worry about them and can get a good night’s sleep. Early the next morning I get a call from a jogger who says that Ellen Forester’s art gallery has been vandalized. I call her and she says she’ll meet me there.
    She’s there when I arrive, standing in front of the store with the look of someone who has been punched in the stomach. Her face is splotchy from crying, although she’s dry-eyed now. She’s pretty, even with the traces of tears on her face and no makeup. She’s wearing jeans and an oversized shirt that makes her look even more petite than she is.
    Hands on our hips, we survey the considerable damage to the front of the building. The big picture window that displays art has been smashed, and a couple of the paintings near the window have big splashes of red paint on them. The door and front of the building are also splashed with paint.
    â€œThis makes me so mad,” Ellen says. “I can hardly stand to look at it. Why would anybody be so mean?”
    â€œYou have insurance, right?”
    She looks up at me, her dark eyes angry. “Of course, but it’s got a high deductible. That’s not the point anyway. The window can be replaced, but people have worked on those paintings, and even though they may not have any monetary value, they’re important to somebody.” She surveys the damage again. “What’s the chance of catching whoever did it?”
    â€œI’m not going to lay any odds, but you’d be surprised how one thing leads to another and before you know it . . .” I shrug and then try to lighten her mood. “And it’s always possible that someone will get a guilty conscience and tattle.”
    She smiles. “You’re thinking it might be teenagers?”
    â€œIt is that time of year.” It’s prom, finals, and graduation in rapid succession. Kids get amped up, and there’s no telling what they will get up to. But that’s not actually who I think is likely to have done this. The damage to the window is so thorough that it has to have been more than somebody randomly throwing a rock from a car. It looks like somebody took a hammer and smashed out as much of the window as he could reach. “You got any other ideas. Had any threats?”
    She shakes her head, eyes narrowed. She knows what I’m referring to.
    â€œCould this be the work of your husband?”
    â€œ Ex -husband! I swear I’m going to convince everybody to call him that. And there’s no reason he would do something so low.”
    A crowd is forming, courtesy of Jarrett Creek’s lively grapevine, all angry at the destruction. The gallery hasn’t been open that long, but it already has a following of would-be artists who jumped at the chance to take classes from Ellen. Many of them huddle around her,