Murder at the Powderhorn Ranch by Jessica Fletcher Read Free Book Online Page A

decided to leave the cabin and sit on the porch for a few minutes to wait for her to pull herself together and emerge from her bedroom refuge. I was halfway across the living room when the sound of a door opening stopped me. I turned to face the bedroom. Geraldine Molloy stepped from it. She still wore pajamas, and her expression had not changed. What was different was that she held a lethal-looking handgun, and it was pointed at me.
    I held out both hands as I said, “Mrs. Molloy, there’s no need for a gun. I’m not here to threaten you. I came to break bad news, and I wish I wasn’t the one to do it. Please, put the gun down.”
    “Paul is dead?”
    “Yes. An accident. Well, maybe—the sheriff is on his way now. Until he arrives, we must stay calm. Put the gun down, Mrs. Molloy. We can sit and talk until he’s here.”
    Until that moment, she’d been rock steady, not even a minute tremor in her hand. But now she began to shake, the weapon whipping back and forth. I was afraid it would discharge accidentally. I moved to my right, came closer to her, placed my hand on the gun, and took it from her. My heart was pounding, and perspiration dripped from my forehead down my nose. I drew a deep sigh of relief, placed the gun on a table, and went to her, my arms wrapped around her, allowing her to cry it out, her thin body heaving against me.
    As I held her, I heard footsteps on the porch. I turned to see Jim Cook and Seth Hazlitt at the door.
    “Everything okay?” Seth asked.
    “Yes. Everything’s fine. Why don’t we give Mrs. Molloy a few extra minutes alone. I’m sure she’d like to freshen up and get dressed before the sheriff’s people arrive.” I held her at arm’s length. “That would be a good idea, wouldn’t it, Mrs. Molloy?”
    “Yes,” she managed in a tiny voice. “Yes, I’d like to do that.”
    “I’ll wait out on the porch.”
    Before joining Seth and Jim on the porch, I quietly picked up the gun from the table and carried it with me, closing both doors behind me.
    “How’d she take it?” Seth asked.
    “Badly.” I held up the revolver.
    “Where did you get that?” Jim asked.
    “From her.”
    “She threaten you with it, Jessica?” Seth asked.
    “No. I’m sure she didn’t mean to use it. It was nothing more than a reflex action born of fear and the devastating news I’d delivered.”
    But I did silently admit to myself that her reaction was unusual, something I might follow up with her at a more opportune moment.
    Jim used a handkerchief to place the weapon in his jacket pocket. “I’ll turn this over to the sheriff when he gets here. I’m sure he’ll want to have it checked for prints.”
    “Any word from him?” I asked.
    “His on-duty road officer called in from the car,” Jim said. “Talked to Bonnie. Should be here in ten, fifteen minutes. He’s got the county coroner with him, and a homicide investigator. They’ve dispatched an ambulance, too, to remove the body, I suppose. Not much more to be done for Mr. Molloy.”
    “Poor woman,” I said, referring to Geraldine. “Have the Morrisons been told?”
    “Yes,” Jim said. “Felt I had to before they heard a rumor and started sensing something was wrong. Thought it was better to hear it directly from me, but the cousin, Willy, had already told them.”
    “What will this do to the week, Jim?” Seth asked.
    “Bonnie and I had a brief talk about that,” Jim replied. “Of course, we don’t know what the sheriff will want from us and the guests, but if the investigation isn’t too intrusive, we’d like to go on with the week as normally as possible, if that is possible. Bonnie’s convinced that if it was murder, it had nothing to do with anybody here at the ranch. Some sickie passing through.”
    “I hope that’s the case,” I said. “If it isn’t—”
    “I’d rather not think about that,” Jim said.
    The door opened, and Geraldine came onto the porch. She’d obviously taken a fast shower; her hair