Cardwell Ranch Trespasser - By B. J. Daniels Page 0,53

head.

Dee had been so excited when Dana had told her that Hud was coming home to help her watch the children. She knew that neither of them wanted to leave the little darlings with her. She’d made it clear she knew nothing about kids, especially babies.

But all the time Hud had been home, he’d been so involved with the children that he wasn’t even aware Dee was in the room.

“I hope you didn’t listen to Hilde’s crazy talk,” Dee said, worried that that was exactly what Dana had done. She’d felt Dana pulling away from her. Worse, Hud was doing the same thing, she feared.

If only Hilde had just drowned that day under the raft.

Dee touched her sore black eye. “You’re just lucky you didn’t end up like me.”

Dana glanced at her, wincing at the sight. Dee had to admit she looked like she’d been run over by a truck. But she’d wanted to make a statement and she had. Dana had been so thankful when she’d dropped the charges against Hilde. Even Hud had seemed relieved when he’d come home that night.

“It’s worse than I thought,” Dana said and looked at Hud. “I sat down and had a cup of coffee with her at the shop...”

Dee gritted her teeth in anger. How could Dana do that after seeing what Hilde had done to her cousin?

“She seemed calm, even rational...” Dana glanced at Dee then back at Hud.

Dee felt her heart begin to race. Hilde had gotten to Dana. She’d started believing her.

“Then I got ready to leave, made it as far as the door, thought of something and went back.” She stopped and took a breath. “Hud, she was bagging my coffee cup.”

Dee let out a silent curse that was like a roar in her ears.

“I demanded to know what she was doing,” Dana continued now in tears. “She told me she was going to check my DNA against Dee’s. I’m sorry, Dee,” Dana said, turning to her again. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. Clearly Hilde has had some sort of psychotic episode. How can she think I’m not your cousin? We look so much alike.”

Dana nodded, still obviously upset.

“I’d ask who she thought she was going to get to run the tests, but I’m sure Colt is helping her,” Hud said. “I can’t imagine what he’s thinking.”

“I thought you said he went to Denver to see his brother?” Dee asked.

“That’s what I heard, but I have my doubts. I can’t see him leaving Hilde alone now. He must be as worried about her as we are.”

* * *

THELMA PETERS’S HOUSE was small and cramped. She left him in a threadbare chair in the living room and disappeared into a room at the back. Periodically he would hear a bump or bang.

He looked around, noticing a picture of Jesus on one wall and a cross on another. A Bible lay open on the table next to his chair. He picked it up, curious what part she’d been reading. She had a passage underlined—Acts 3:19. Repent therefore, and turn again, that your sins may be blotted out.

“Here is the only one I could find.” Thelma came back into the room with a snapshot clutched in her fingers. “I haven’t seen Camilla in years, so I don’t know what she looks like now. But this is what she looked like at sixteen.”

Chapter Thirteen

Colt looked down at the photo. His heart sank. The photo was of two people, a young man and a girl with long dark hair. The young man was the same man still at the morgue in Montana—Rick Cameron, aka Richard Northland.

The girl—was definitely not Dee.

He told himself it had been a long shot, but now realized how much he’d been counting on Dee being Camilla Northland. Maybe Rick really was her boyfriend. Maybe she didn’t even kill him.

“This isn’t the woman in Montana,” he told Thelma.

“Like I said, she was only sixteen. I have no idea what she looks like now.” She took the photograph back. “You look disappointed. You should be thankful the woman in Montana isn’t Camilla. You should be very thankful.”

“Were she and her brother really that bad?” he had to ask.

The old woman scoffed. “They killed their parents. Burned them to a crisp. That bad enough for you? They tried to poison me. Camilla pushed me down the stairs once no doubt hoping I would break my neck. I hate to think what they would have done if I’d broken a leg and needed the