“What are you saying? That you think the person in the vehicle killed her? That the killer had an accomplice?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I guess it depends on who found her that night and why that person wasn’t very kind to her, if you believe the author of the story.”

Dulcie was quiet for a moment. “I still think she’s alive, but you’re right. It doesn’t mention what happens to the killer. I wonder what the author of the story is trying to tell us?”

Tell us? Jolene shuddered. The author was trying to tell her something, but Jolene wasn’t sure what exactly.

“If Angel lived, then that would explain why no one wants to talk about what happened to the girl. She saw the killer. She could identify him.”

“So why didn’t she identify him?” Jolene asked in a whisper.

This time Dulcie was silent for much longer. “I hadn’t thought of that. She was old enough to identify the killer. Unless she didn’t recognize him. Still, she could have described him. Unless she was too traumatized to do so.”

Jolene knew where Dulcie was headed with this. “So you think the community secreted her away so the killer couldn’t find her.”

“Or so she couldn’t identify the killer.”

Jolene shuddered at the thought.

“They found someone to adopt her. Apparently Laura didn’t have any family. It makes sense. Especially if I’m Angel Beaumont.”

It did make sense, Jolene thought. And that’s what was scaring her.

The moment Russell saw his brother drive up, he knew something had happened and he feared it had to do with Dulcie Hughes.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he told the ranch hands he’d been working with on the new section of fence and hurried toward the patrol car as Shane got out.

Russell had been out since sunup, hoping to work off some of his frustration. He would have liked to forget all about Dulcie Hughes, but there didn’t seem much chance of that. Now, he was convinced he’d had every right to be worried.

“What’s she done now?” he asked before his brother had a chance to open his mouth.

“She got into a little fender bender on the way home last night,” Shane said, knowing at once who he was referring to. He quickly added, “She wasn’t hurt.”

“A fender bender?”

“A pickup tried to run her off the road.”

Russell swore as his mind raced to make sense of it. “Why would someone...” His voice trailed off as he realized his brother hadn’t driven all this way out here to tell him that.

“We found a pickup that matches the description she gave us. It has some of her fancy rental-car paint on the side of it,” Shane said.

“Who? Did you arrest the son-of-a-bitch?”