Saddled With Trouble Read Online Free PDF Page A

now there, and the coroner was on the way. All sorts of people swarmed the property, taking photos, collecting evidence.
    She’d been instructed by one of the officers to wait on the porch; someone would be over to speak with her. The poor horses in the barn were going nuts with all the commotion. Their whinnies resounded across the ranch, and they had to be starving. Michaela cringed listening to their distress, rested her face in her palms and sobbed. Again, the thoughts of who could’ve done something like this— and, furthermore, why? — raced through her mind.
    “ Miss Bancroft, would you like some coffee?”
    Michaela looked up and squinted, blinded by the sunlight, to see one of the officers standing over her. He held out a foam cup. She took it from him, nearly spilling it, wrapping both hands around it to try and stop them from shaking.
    The cop sat down next to her. “I’m Detective Jude Davis. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
    She nodded.
    He pulled out a small notepad and pen from inside his tweed sports jacket. “Your call came in around quarter after eight this morning. What time would you say you got here?”
    “ About five minutes before that.”
    “ Did you notice anything unusual?”
    “ I noticed it was quiet.” She set the coffee next to her on the step and took a tissue from her pocket. “I’m sorry,” she said and sniffled, trying hard to keep from crying again.
    “ I understand. You say it was quiet. ” The sunlight caught his blue eyes, causing him to squint. He took a pair of sunglasses from his pocket. “Can you tell me what you mean by that?”
    “ Yes . . .” She paused. “Okay.” She was having a difficult time finding words. This wasn’t a conversation she could accept, much less even believe she was part of. “Usually in the morning there’s a lot of activity with animals being fed. Sometimes my uncle might be on the tractor cutting grass or in the arena working with a horse.”
    “ That’s not what you found this morning?”
    “ No.”
    “ What brought you here in the first place?” He raked his hand through his wavy blond hair.
    She explained what led up to her finding Uncle Lou.
    “ Do you know anything yet? What happened?” she asked, as he continued writing in his notepad.
    “ We don’t.”
    She shook her head. “I can’t believe it. I don’t know why . . .” She raised her soggy tissue. He pulled a clean one from his khaki slacks. She tried to force a smile, but instead broke down again. She realized Cynthia was not there and through her sobs she asked, “Do you know where his wife is?”
    “ Yes. We were able to locate her at the gym. She’s on her way back here now.”
    “ God, poor Cyn.”
    “ You were close with your aunt and uncle?”
    “ I see them all the time. I’m usually over once a week for dinner. I help Cynthia prepare it and my folks join us, too. Uncle Lou stops by my place quite a bit.” Michaela took a hasty sip from the coffee.
    “ And his wife . . . Cynthia? I take it since you don’t refer to her as your aunt that she is a second wife?”
    “ Yes. They’ve been married for several years now. My aunt Rose died over ten years ago from breast cancer and my uncle met Cynthia a year or so later.”
    “ Uh-huh. Were they having any problems that you knew about?”
    “ Oh, no. Cyn loved my uncle, and he worshiped her.”
    “ Is this Mrs. Bancroft? Your aunt, or I mean, Cynthia?” He pulled a small photo inside a small plastic bag, marked EVIDENCE.
    “ Yes, it is. Where did you get that picture?”
    “ It was in your uncle’s wallet, which we found in the corner of the stall near him.”
    “ Oh.” Michaela didn’t know what else to say. “Do you know if there is anything missing? Maybe someone was trying to rob him and it went bad?”
    “ I can’t determine that as of yet. I’m not certain what all he carried in his wallet. I can say it does look fairly intact, though. There was some cash and