Crazy Mountain Kiss by Keith McCafferty Read Free Book Online Page B

at the Bar-4, that he had gone straight from school to work and then had slept in the stables. He’d told them that he was going to give lying in wait for the horsehair thief one more try and they assumed last night was that.
    Horsehair thief?
Stranahan put the question to Ettinger.
    â€œIt’s a separate file,” she said. “Last fall someone cut the tails off a dozen or so horses at the Bar-4. You know, for violin bows.”
    â€œViolin bows?”
    â€œI keep forgetting you’re a pilgrim. Belts, horsehair jewelry, violin bows, hair extensions for show horses, a lot of stuff. There’s money in it.”
    â€œHow much is the tail of a horse worth?”
    â€œI think you can get up to a couple hundred dollars a pound. White’s the most valuable. The thefts occurred about a month before Cinderella disappeared. They paid Anker to spend a few nights in the stables after it happened, but no one returned to steal any more hair.”
    â€œWhy didn’t Loretta Huntington think of Anker right off the bat?”
    â€œBecause it was the boy’s initiative to spend the night. Neither the trainer or ranch manager had asked him to. After getting over the shock of seeing their horses shorn, they’d realized that horsehair thieves probably wouldn’t hit the same ranch twice. Even meth heads aren’t that dumb.”
    â€œSo, drug addicts looking to score?”
    â€œSmash and grab, or in this case snip and run.”
    Stranahan turned to the report on Anker’s disappearance, but Martha stopped him by placing two fingers on his arm.
    â€œYou’ve read all there is to know. Etta Huntington made the call and Harold caught it. He ended up interviewing everyone the report mentions, all the kid’s friends at school and probably half of Wilsall and Clyde Park, plus the boy’s relatives up in Ringling, where the Anker clan is from.”
    â€œIsn’t that where you grew up?”
    â€œNo, our place was out of Roundup.”
    â€œRingling, Roundup, same bit of nowhere.”
    â€œTell that to your gas tank. You’ve been here three years. Learn your geography.”
    â€œI know where all the best trout streams are.”
    â€œ
Anyway
,” she said, drawing out the word, “nobody contradicted what Huntington told Harold. Nobody reported seeing the kids after they disappeared or ever heard from them. Neither set of parents envisioned the two of them running off, and even if they had, you’d think they would have surfaced. There were rumors Landon Anker was gay, but his parents denied it. They described the relationship between Landon and Cinderella as more like brother and sister than boyfriend-girlfriend.”
    The road rose abruptly and there were the Crazy Mountains, the ridges puzzled with snow, but green showing in the lower elevations. Maybe summer would come, after all. In Montana, you held your breath.
    â€œHow much farther?” Stranahan said.
    Martha frowned. He sounded bored to her, maybe indifferent was the better word. “Do you see that bald ridge running north and south? The cabin is tucked under it.”
    She slowed for a doe whitetail deer to cross the road. Heavy with fawn, her winter coat was already patchy, the gray shedding in clumps to reveal the rich reddish coat underneath.
    Martha nodded toward the folder. “What’s your take on this?”
    Stranahan seemed to shake himself awake. “What did Harold think?”
    â€œI’m asking you.”
    â€œIf I didn’t know about the chimney? I’d say the most likely scenario was they drove off in the Anker kid’s truck, maybe he had a place they could go and be alone, and then they broke down and somebody came by, a drifter, and said he’d give them a lift into town. He killed them, maybe the boy first so he could have his way with the girl. He disposed of the bodies down the road. Like those long-haul truckers who prey on prostitutes in