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  By the time she arrived, the rapist was already in the house with the victim. Audrey grabbed her courage with both hands, walked in and distracted him until the cops showed up. Looking back, walking into that house knowing the guy was inside was foolhardy, but she hadn’t really had a choice.

  “You are one cool lady, Miss Anderson.”

  “Why thank you, Cal. You should call me Rey. Everybody does.”

  He shrugged. “All right. Rey.”

  “It’s hard to believe this guy broke into Sarah’s house.” She made the statement as if she was personal friends with Sarah Sauder and she knew all about the dead guy.

  “For sure.” Cal glanced at the house, then checked in both directions to ensure no one was nearby. “Especially considering he came all the way from Chicago to do it. Sarah swears she never laid eyes on the guy before. Kind of hard to believe considering he came this far.”

  Chicago. Interesting. Audrey nodded. “Just totally crazy, isn’t it?”

  “Oh yes, ma’am. Sheriff Tanner no sooner ran the man’s name than some detective from up there called and wanted to know what was going on.”

  “So this guy has a record?” It was possible someone from Chicago was attempting to horn his way into the local drug trade—not that there was much of a problem in the Winchester area, but most towns had at least some drug issues. Still, why break into a Mennonite woman’s house? Unless, being from Chicago, he lost his bearings and broke into the wrong house. To an outsider, the roads around here all looked alike. At night, they all looked alike even to Audrey. Not so surprising, considering she had lived everywhere but here since she left for college.

  “Oh yeah. Big-time. That big-city detective said the guy has ties to the mob.”

  So that was why Colt had called in Branch. Branch’s first assignment with the Marshals Service was in Chicago. He likely knew all about Chicagoland crime families. This potential breaking-and-entering had just shifted to something else entirely.

  “Do you know his name?”

  Cal shook his head. “He’s a big guy, though. With red hair. She got him square in the chest with her husband’s deer-hunting rifle. One shot. He was probably dead before he hit the floor.”

  “I’m glad she and the children weren’t harmed.”

  Before Cal could say more, the front door of the house opened and a gurney rolled and rattled its way across the porch.

  Maybe she would follow Burt Johnston to the hospital in Winchester. Burt owned and operated the two veterinary clinics in the county. He’d taken care of her beloved collie, Maisey, twenty years ago. Couldn’t hurt to ask him for a few details.

  He’d tell his coffee-drinking buddies at breakfast in the morning anyway. He might as well tell Audrey now. After all, the newspaper gave him a discount on all his advertising. It was the least he could do.

  A murder—even in self-defense—was as scarce as hen’s teeth in Franklin County. Especially if it involved a possible mob-connected stranger from out of town and a quiet Mennonite woman who’d lived here her whole life.

  Had all the makings of a feature that could be picked up by the Associated Press. This might be Audrey’s lucky night.

  Copyright © 2019 by Debra Webb

  ISBN-13: 9781488045622

  Under the Cowboy’s Protection

  Copyright © 2019 by Delores Fossen

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