Winter's Secret by Lyn Cote Read Free Book Online Page B

hitched up one shoulder. "I ain't makin' any promises."
     
    She leaned over and kissed his deeply lined cheek, then turned to the nurse. "His bark is worse than his bite."
     
    The nurse grimaced. "Better tell him my bark and bite are equally bad."
     
    Wendy shook her head. "You two will have to work it out between you. I've got to go." Besides, I don't have any patience today. How can I wait until tomorrow to hear if the sheriff's plan worked? Oh, God, calm my spirit and help Rodd catch the thief.
     
     
    Rodd quietly drove his Jeep into the deep cover of a stand of pines behind the Olson garage. About three hours earlier, dark had fallen on the mid-November night. He'd stayed in his office doing paperwork until he left at his customary time. He'd done nothing out of the ordinary that might be observed. This wasn't the big city. Here people noticed things.
     
    That had been proved already. Someone in the county had noticed Wendy's movements and used them for larcenous purposes. Someone could be watching him too, though that didn't seem to fit the Weasel. But Rodd couldn't take any chances. Three burglaries were three too many. So at the end of his day, he'd driven home as usual, checked on his cattle, and gotten his mail while the moonless night advanced.
     
    Finally, he'd left his home and taken a circuitous route to Winneshiek Road. Then he had turned off his headlights and trusted his luck to get off the road onto Olson's property without being noticed by the distant neighbors. Now he backed his Jeep into a rough but cleared area hidden by the tall pines. The patch of ground looked as if farm machinery had been parked there in the past.
     
    He had planned carefully. Earlier in the daylight, to make sure he would know right where to drive and wouldn't fumble around in the dark, he had driven by and glimpsed this stakeout position. The layout of the property was so perfect for a stakeout and arrest that he'd felt like singing—if he were a man who sang. But the elation still tried to tug his mouth into a grin. The trap had been set and baited.
     
    Ever since Wendy had called him this morning with her news, he'd felt the buzz of adrenaline. Tonight he'd do what he'd promised when he took his oath of office. He'd protect the community. The string of snowmobile burglaries would end—tonight.
     
    If the thief nibbled the bait.
     
    All Rodd had to do was wait. He checked to make certain nothing would beep or ring when he opened his car door; then he sat inside and waited.
     
    Tonight had to succeed—because tonight's stakeout would reveal that he'd figured out the Weasel's MO. If he didn't get the thief tonight, he might not get such a clear-cut chance again. And he wanted to catch the Weasel red-handed, not just scare him out of business.
     
    Only the distant whine of an occasional motor driving by on the two-lane highway disturbed the deathly silence of the winter night. Minutes crawled by ...one by one ... by one. He fought the chill by sipping black coffee from his thermos. Fortunately, tonight was still. Falling temperatures to endure, but no wind chill. He'd dressed in layers, but the fizzing excitement in his blood did the most to keep him alert.
     
    Wendy's soft voice spoke in his memory: "I'll be praying for you." Wendy, all I need are your prayers to keep me awake. Everything's in place. He'd taken Pastor Brace's advice and let Wendy help him set up the trap. But now it was all up to him. He didn't need God to do the stakeout for him.
     
    At last, when the luminous dial on Rodd's watch registered 11:37 p.m., he heard the distant roar of an engine coming closer. His cold-dulled senses snapped alive. A headlight flickered far back on Olson's property, then disappeared. Moments later an unlighted snowmobile slid into the dark area just beyond the glowing back-door light. Something ... a rock? ... hit the side of the house. And again.
     
    Then with the tinkling sound of shattering glass, that light went