Read Online Murder at the Powderhorn Ranch by Jessica Fletcher - Free Book Online

gives credence to that old saying, ‘Life is what happens when you’re making other plans.”’
    “It certainly does. I feel bad for everyone, Jess, including you. Jim and I finally get you to visit, and someone is murdered. Hardly a respite from the murders you write about.”
    “That’s the least of it, Bonnie. As upsetting as this is, I agree with you and Jim that we should all try to make the best of it, have things go along as normally as possible. I’m sure you’re right, that whoever did this has nothing whatsoever to do with the ranch.”
    “I pray that’s true.”
    Seth returned.
    “How is she?” I asked.
    “Drained. Thanked me for walking her back and said she was going to bed. Best place for her.”
    “There’s nothing scheduled for the rest of the day,” Bonnie said, “except lunch at twelve-thirty. There’s a two-thirty ride for anyone who’s interested, and we show a movie after dinner. Jim’s always happy to take guests on a Jeep ride up into the mountains. But I suppose everything’s subject to change, depending upon what Investigator Pitura and his people decide.”
    “I’m sure he’ll try to accommodate everyone, Bonnie. I’ll be back in my cabin if you need anything. And please, don’t hesitate to ask.”
    “That goes for me, too,” Seth said.
    “You’re both very good friends, and very understanding. Thanks—for everything.”

Chapter Seven
    Seth and I decided that to deliberately not go to lunch as a symbolic reaction to what had happened didn’t make sense. We wanted to support Jim and Bonnie’s desire to keep things going as normally as possible. Besides, we were hungry.
    Evidently, most of the others didn’t share our view. We were joined only by Chris and Marisa Morrison, Evelyn’s brother, Robert, and a handful of staff. Joel served a taco salad with bowls of chopped onions, sour cream, and salsa, peaches with cream cheese, and chocolate chip brownies for dessert.
    “The rest of your family skipping lunch?” Seth asked Chris.
    “They said they weren’t hungry. Can’t blame them, I guess, considering what’s happened.”
    “I was interviewed by the police,” wrangler Andy Wilson said. “Jon was, too, before he went to town to pick up Mrs. Morrison.”
    “What did they ask you?” Sue, one of the cabin girls, said.
    “Where I was last night and this morning.”
    “What did you tell them?”
    “Where I was. I did my laundry last night before we got together to watch TV. Remember?”
    “I didn’t see you in the laundry room,” Sue said. “I did my laundry last night, too.”
    “I must have been there before you,” Andy replied, a tinge of anger to his voice.
    “The investigator—what’s his name? Pitura?—wants to interview us this afternoon,” Chris Morrison said.
    “Why they would interview us is beyond me,” said his wife, Marisa. She guffawed. “Surely, he doesn’t suspect anyone from this family.”
    “They have to do their job,” Seth said. “They can’t rule anyone out when a murder’s been committed.” He took another helping of taco salad.
    “Jon said he saw a stranger on the road early this morning,” Andy said.
    “That’s interesting,” I said. “Did he tell the investigator?”
    “I guess so. He interviewed us separately.”
    “Has any of your family seen anything unusual?” I asked Chris. “I saw that some of you were up early this morning.”
    “Not that anybody said. How about you, Mrs. Fletcher? I saw you walking early.”
    “Yes, I was, but I saw nothing out of the ordinary.”
    “You’ll probably solve this before the cops,” Chris said, laughing. “I mean, with all the murder mysteries you’ve written, you probably already have a theory. Am I right?”
    “No, you are wrong, Mr. Morrison. I haven’t a clue.”
    “What about his wife?” Marisa asked. “She’s a strange-o.”
    “She’s very upset, as can be imagined. She doesn’t know when he left their cabin.”
    “How can that be?” Chris