Chapter Two #2
Clancy had quickly made her way to the emergency exit, where she’d left a rock propping the door partially open so she wasn’t locked out.
Marveling at her good luck at not getting caught by anyone other than Jane, she had slipped out and let the door close behind her.
Moving silently through the darkness, she’d made her way down the street, headed for where she’d left her car hidden in the trees.
But as she’d walked away from the rest home, she’d made the mistake of looking back.
There had been a faint light shining in Esther’s apartment.
With a start, she’d realized that someone was standing at the edge of the window.
Her skin had crawled with the realization that the person had been looking right at her.
Esther, she’d thought with a curse, and checked the time, thinking that maybe she could sneak back in and have it out with the horrible woman.
But by then it had been half past midnight.
Half past midnight? She read Sarah’s text again, her fingers trembling.
Esther had been killed before midnight. Her heart slammed against her ribs, making it impossible to breathe.
Esther couldn’t have been the person standing at the window.
She wasn’t the one who’d watched Clancy leave Shady Rest, because Esther Mason was already dead.
Who had been standing at Esther’s window last night after the murder? A red-hot wave of terror swept over her. There was only one person it could have been.
Esther’s killer.
Clancy grabbed hold of the convenience store counter to steady herself. She could feel panic rising in her, threatening to paralyze her. She hadn’t been able to make out the face or even the shape, but she recalled the creepy feeling. And now she knew.
The killer had seen her.
She leaned over and threw up in the wastebasket.
* * *
COUNTY SHERIFF MAX LANDER hated to admit that when he’d heard about the murder, he’d been surprised someone hadn’t killed Esther Mason sooner.
The woman had made so many enemies in her lifetime that he had plenty of suspects in Dry Gulch alone.
He suspected Esther had quickly found new people to offend once she moved into Shady Rest.
On the drive to Grass Range, lights and siren blaring, he thought about the first time he’d met Esther.
He and his younger brother Cordell had been teenagers running from an abusive stepfather when they’d stumbled into Dry Gulch.
Fortunately, Esther’s sister Iris, who owned a boardinghouse, was kind and had taken them in without any questions.
Max did odd jobs around the house to pay for their board while his younger brother went to school.
Iris never asked anything about their past.
But Esther had been suspicious of them, always wanting to know where their parents were and what they were running from. She’d treated them worse than stray, mangy dogs.
He shook off the memory. The beautiful countryside forced away the unhappy thoughts of Esther’s treatment of him and his brother like the sun fighting through the dark clouds ahead.
He made good time with little to no traffic, dropping over a hill and into the lush valley.
Grass Range had sprung up in the middle of some of the finest open grassland used by early cattle operations and was named for this range grass.
It sat east of Lewistown in the foothills of the Snowy Mountains, not far from the headwaters of Fort Peck Reservoir and the picturesque Missouri Breaks.
On the four-hour drive from the Canadian border to Montana’s largest city, Billings, Grass Range was one of only a few small towns on the way. The town consisted of a scattering of buildings, two convenience stores, two cafés and a bar just off the highway.
Max had no trouble locating Shady Rest. He worried about what he’d find once he got there. As he headed up the front walk, he sensed movement from one of the apartments. As the curtains fell back into place, he realized someone had been watching him.
He rang the bell to get in, and the door was opened by a sixty-something man with dyed, dark hair combed over his pale pate, who introduced himself as Vernon Vance, facility manager.
Max caught a strong whiff of the man’s cologne as he shook hands.
Vernon wore a matching polyester suit in burgundy red with a bright yellow, wide-collared shirt and highly polished leather shoes.
Max suspected Vernon had been quite the lady’s man in his younger days and might still think he was.
The coroner and a state police officer were both waiting for Max by the manager’s office. When Max had been notified of the homicide, he’d asked that the body not be moved and that the state police officer keep everyone inside the facility until he arrived.
Vernon led the three of them to Esther’s apartment, and Max noticed the way the elderly residents huddled in small groups, looking more excited than alarmed. Crime scene tape had been put across the locked door by the state officer.
“Thank you,” Max told the manager. “We’ll take it from here.” As he unlocked the door and stepped under the tape, the smell of death filled his nostrils. He knew he’d never get used to it. The coroner joined him.
Esther lay on her back, mouth and eyes open, arms akimbo. A very large knife protruded from her chest. Max glanced around the small, cluttered apartment, not sure at first whether the place had been ransacked or if it always looked like this.
But as he stepped around the body and moved carefully through the space, he saw that the killer must have been searching for something given the mess. Was that the motive for the murder? Too bad he didn’t know if the killer had found whatever it was or not.
After bagging obvious evidence and taking crime scene photos, he told the coroner he could take the body.
“We’ve never had a murder in all the time I’ve been working here,” Vernon said, his voice cracking as Max returned to the office to get the man’s statement.
According to the manager, it was the resident in the apartment to the north of Esther’s who’d called the office at half past midnight.
Irma Hanson said she’d heard a loud thud in the room next door at 11:47 a.m. exactly.
“Sounded like a body hitting the floor,” Irma had told him.
She had waited to see if she heard anyone moving around over there and finally called him.
Vernon took a breath, folding his hands on his desk, and said, “I’d just come back from my last rounds of the night. I hadn’t seen or heard anything out of the ordinary. Usually by that hour residents are down for the night.”
“You didn’t see anyone?” he asked, and Vernon shook his head.
“I went down to Esther’s room to investigate. I knocked but Esther didn’t answer.”
“There was no one else in the hall?” Max asked. Again, Vernon shook his head.
“Using my master key, I opened the door and called Esther’s name.
When I got no answer again, I stepped further into the apartment and called again.
That’s when I saw her.” He swallowed. “She was lying on the floor on her back.” He swallowed again.
“I could see the blood pooled around her.” Vernon looked as if he might be sick.
“Your first murder?” Max guessed.
Vernon nodded and continued. “I checked for a pulse, but I didn’t find one. I left the room, locking the door behind me, and called the authorities.” He appeared winded after all that and relieved it was over.
“You told the 911 operator that she’d been murdered?” Max asked.
Vernon looked shocked by the question. “She had a knife stuck in her chest.”
Max considered everything the manager had told him as he thanked Vernon. One thing struck him. If the resident next door to Esther had heard the loud thud at just before midnight, that narrowed down the time of the attack if not her death.
If no one had entered the facility after lockdown, then it limited the pool of suspects to someone inside Shady Rest.
* * *
CLANCY TRIED TO still her growing panic. What did it matter that the killer had seen her? It wasn’t like he or she had any reason to come after her.
Unless… The thought sent her spiraling again. Unless the killer thought Clancy had recognized him and could identify him.
But she couldn’t. She hadn’t gotten a good look at the silhouetted figure at the window, but did the killer know that?
Her mind whirled. She realized she had no choice. She had to run. Max was a great sheriff. He’d find the real killer once she was gone. Hopefully before the killer found her, but she couldn’t count on that.
Shakily, she called her boss. “I’m sick. I have to leave. Can you please come right away?” Grass Range was small enough that her boss wasn’t far away, thankfully. She promised herself she would call the sheriff from down the road and tell him everything.
The moment her boss arrived, Clancy picked up her backpack and headed for the trailer she rented out back. It didn’t take long to pack what little she owned. She tossed a few things into the back of her car, keeping her backpack up front with her.
The sky had darkened with the impending thunderstorm. As she climbed behind the wheel, she feared someone would try to stop her. The wind whistled through the crack in her car doors. She checked her mirrors, unable to shake the feeling that she was being watched.
But as she started the engine, she saw no one. She glanced at her gas gauge. She had enough to get to Roundup, the small town not far outside Billings. She would call the sheriff from there.
Pulling away, she didn’t look back, still afraid the killer would be coming for her. But as she turned onto the highway, she did a quick check of the rearview mirror, and didn’t see anyone in pursuit. No one watched her go—at least no one that she saw.
She held her breath as she sped up. Ahead, there was nothing but the two-lane highway all the way to Billings and hardly any traffic this time of year. No cars followed her. Her rearview mirror remained empty.