Murder in Vail Read Online Free PDF Page B

get to the Yorkie. The tiny dog yelped and climbed up onto Yvette’s shoulder. The Yorkie’s entire body was trembling.
    “My poor little baby,” Yvette whispered. “I won’t let those big mean dogs hurt you.”
    She kicked at Silver with her boot. Lance jumped between them as if he were protecting Yvette from an angry mob.
    “Mom, can you take Goldie and Silver out?” he asked. “They’re scaring Duchess.”
    Annoyed that her dogs were being evicted from the house again, Sally grabbed Goldie’s collar. Stephen took hold of Silver.
    “It’s okay, boy,” Stephen said, playfully roughhousing with the dog. “You get to go for a walk now.”
    “I’ll take the dogs out back,” Sally said, not even trying to hide her irritation. She didn’t like her dogs being kicked. While Stephen held the dogs still, Sally took the leashes from a rack in the entry hall and hooked them to the dogs’ collars.
    A loud noise rang out in the distance. “What was that,” Stephen exclaimed. “It sounded like a gunshot. Or was it thunder?”
    “I’m not sure,” Sally answered, alarmed. “I hope it was thunder, but I heard there might be poachers in the woods. I certainly hope that’s not it.”
    “Poachers!” Stephen exclaimed with distaste. “They’re the lowest of the low. They better stay off our land.”
    “Poachers?” Yvette asked, looking at her husband.
    “They’re hunters who hunt illegally,” Lance explained. “Deer season is over, and they aren’t supposed to be hunting deer at this time of year. And some of them hunt for bigger game, which is never legal, like moose, bobcat, and mountain lions.”
    “Mountain lions!” Yvette shrieked, hugging her Yorkie tighter. “There are mountain lions around here?”
    “A few,” Sally told her. “But don’t worry. They stay mainly to themselves and usually only come out at night. I’ve only ever seen one, when I was driving back from the village at dusk. It ran the minute it saw the car.”
    Another shot rang out, this one closer.
    “That was not thunder,” Stephen said. “Those guys are idiots. If they don’t get off this mountain soon with that storm coming, they’re going to be in big trouble.”
    “Mom, be careful taking the dogs out,” Lance warned. “Poachers aren’t known to be the best shots.”
    Stephen reached over to take the leashes from his mother’s hand. “I’ll take the dogs out, Mom,” Stephen insisted.
    “No. Stephen. It’s ok. I’ll take them. You had a long trip. Relax and visit with Lance.”
    Pulling the dogs on their leashes, Sally decided she would walk them next to the house rather than let them run loose in the backyard as they usually did. She didn’t want a poacher mistaking one of her Labradoodles for a deer.
    As she led the dogs out of the room, she called back over her shoulder, “Yvette, Lance, make yourselves at home. Gwen and Glen are here. Stephen, talk to Lance about the sleeping arrangements. Whatever you decide is fine. Dinner is in an hour.”

    “What’s this about sleeping arrangements?” Lance asked his brother.
    “Well,” Stephen replied, trying to downplay the situation, “I haven’t been upstairs yet, but apparently Rachel doesn’t want to stay in my room and went ahead and took yours. She needs the balcony, you know, so she can smoke.” He added doubtfully, “Hope you don’t mind.”
    Stephen rarely saw his jovial brother upset, but Lance was clearly peeved. He was very particular about his belongings—to the point of obsession. He always had been, especially with his collections. Growing up, Lance doted on his vast collections of baseball cards and autographed baseballs, comic books, stamps, and model airplanes. He still took tremendous pride every time he found a unique new addition. The idea that someone else was staying in the room with his treasures—particularly someone who was a smoker—was abhorrent to him.
    “Oh no. That is not acceptable,” Lance said emphatically.