The Alpine Legacy Read Online Free PDF Page B

little, however, as I saw several houses with Christmas lights strung over the eaves, and decorated trees, both inside and outside. It was two weeks too soon for me to put up my usual lush Douglas fir, though I'd started to display my Nativity figures. Beginning with the first Sunday of Advent, they emerged one by one from their tissue paper until Baby Jesus would be placed in his crib on Christmas Eve.
    The log house was dark when I pulled into the drive, stopping first to get my mail at the box by the street. Mostly bills, I noted, along with a few Christmas cards. Mine weren't quite finished, though I planned to send them out by the tenth.
    I gathered a couple of pieces of wood and some kindling from the stash in the carport, then trudged the fifteen feet to my front door.
    It was open. Juggling the wood and my handbag, I called in panic: “Who's there?”
    No sound could be heard, except for the wind in the evergreens behind the house. Had I forgotten to lock the door when I went to work? I'd been careless once or twice in the past, but not in recent years. Peering at the front yard, I tried to see footprints. There were none, only my own, leaving a trail from the carport.
    I called out again. Nothing. Milo had once warned me that it was risky to enter a house that might have been broken into. I reached around the door frame to turn on the lights. I couldn't see that anything had been disturbed. Still, the ominous silence frightened me. Maybe I should get a cell phone. Milo had also urged me to do just that, but I'd put it off, not wanting to spend themoney. Common sense required that I get back in the car and drive to the sheriff's office.
    The idea angered me. This was my house, my property, my privacy, and it was likely that it had been invaded. Feeling a surge of adrenaline, I stepped inside. I unloaded everything but the larger piece of wood and began exploring the rest of the house. The kitchen, like the living room and dining area, seemed undisturbed. Off the little hall that led out of the living room, I went first into what I still called Adam's room, though he hadn't lived with me on a regular basis for almost ten years. Indeed, he had never occupied the bedroom for more than a few months at a time because he'd started college the same year that I'd purchased
The Advocate.
    He had, however, used the room for storage. Among his treasures was a mason jar filled with pennies, some of which he insisted were rare. The jar was gone from the windowsill. So were his autographed Mariners baseball and several of his heavy-metal tapes.
    Cursing, I rushed into my bedroom. My mother's pearls were missing, along with some of my other less expensive jewelry. Pulling out dresser drawers, I saw that an old fox boa that had belonged to my paternal grandmother was also gone.
    The closet had been searched, but I couldn't see that anything had been taken. I told myself that it was probably just as well that I'm unable to afford a lavish lifestyle.
    I glanced in the bathroom, but saw nothing to alarm me. The shower curtain was pulled aside so I could see that no one was lurking in the tub. Finally putting the piece of wood down on the hearth, I dialed 911.
    Beth Rafferty was on duty and expressed sympathy when I told her what had happened. “I can send JackMullins or Bill Blatt.” she informed me. “It shouldn't be long unless we get a wreck out on the highway.”
    I thanked Beth and hung up. Then I poured a stiff bourbon and water before checking the front door. The lock was simple, and apparently had been jimmied. Again, Milo had told me to get a dead bolt. Stupidly, I'd put it off. Without the sheriff to nag me, I'd gotten careless when it came to safety precautions.
    I was almost finished with my drink when Milo himself showed up fifteen minutes later. “I just got home and was getting out of my car when I heard your call come in,” he said, shrugging out of his regulation jacket. “I told the deputies I'd handle