Meadowlarks by Thomas Holladay (chapter books to read to 5 year olds TXT) 📕

they’d all stayed in the bank until just before dawn. After that shrill, hyena sounding laugh nobody dared make a sound, not even Olen. They all knew what it meant, that Helfred Jacobsen had been taken. They’d all been frozen by their communal fear.

At first light, moving in a dazed semi-consciousness, Olen had walked across the street to open his store.

Better that way.

Nason and Embry had been left to clean up the mess.

Big green flies had turned the scene into a surreal nightmare. Flies in the dead of winter shouldn't even exist.

Dr. Nancy continued to buy their stories about a rogue grizzly, thank God. That hadn’t been difficult, her being from down below. Nason had planted that seed when she'd first moved here. Her coroner’s report would reflect a rare, natural occurrence that should satisfy the county medical examiner down in Sonora. There wouldn’t be an investigation, grizzlies being on the endangered species list.

What they'd all seen was no bear. Maybe it was the fabled Sasquatch. It was definitely a primate.

He turned onto Potter’s cleared cobblestone driveway and drove over the crest, followed the cleared path down to the barn where the door was partly open and turned back up toward the house.

Their dog rushed down the driveway, bounding up and down at the side of his truck, looking at Nason through the driver's side window.

He parked in front of the entry steps, left the engine running and climbed out.

The dog jumped up to greet him, cuffing his big front paws into Nason’s chest, saying hello.

“Hello, Barnabas.” Nason scrubbed the dog’s muscular shoulders, thinking about what Embry said, maybe they should all be raising pit bulls, not afraid of anything.

Nason put on his official hat and climbed the front steps with the dog sniffing his boots, probably smelling blood. He’d cleaned them the best he could but dogs would still smell it. He knocked on the door and the door moved.

Yeah.

That thing had tried to break in. It must have broken the latch.

A chill crossed his shoulders, remembering the mess with Kidro, hoping not to find that today.

Probably not.

The dog seemed completely normal.

Nason knocked again, took off his hat and waited.

The door swung open and Carolyn Potter’s smile dropped to a thin, angry frown. “What do you want?” Her beautiful blue eyes pierced him to the heart.

“We need to take a little ride into the village.” He was too tired to argue.

“What for?” She couldn’t care less, like she was finished with this whole community.

“There’s something I need to show you. Won’t take long.”

“I’m working on an article for the magazine right now.” She started to close the door.

Nason blocked it with his foot.

She yanked the door wide and glared.

Nason braced for a slap in the face that didn’t come. He backed away and studied the inside of his official hat, thinking what to say. He put his hat on and looked back into her rage. “That’ll have to wait. Sorry.”

“How dare you tell me what to do?” She opened the door wider, ready to slam it into his boot.

He shifted and leaned into the door. “Please, don’t force me to place you under arrest. Neither of us would like that.”

Her rage turned to shock. “Arrest me? For what?”

He looked at her squarely, too tired to do anything else. “Ralston’s calf is back inside your barn, isn’t it?” Why hadn’t he stopped to check, to be sure?

She blinked and stepped back. “Why? Is that what this is about? Jason did that. I didn’t even know until after . . .” She smiled a little and leaned on the edge of the door.

He backed away.

She stepped into the middle of the doorway, collecting her thoughts. “It didn’t try to get in last night. It went away.”

“Yes, I know. Come on. Let’s take a ride.”

“Let me get my coat.” When she turned inside, Nason looked for the dog but he'd gone back to the barn. She returned with her coat, put it on, pulled the door to the jamb and led Nason down the steps. "Jason’s in the barn with John Crow."

“This won’t take long. We’ll be right back.”

After riding most of the way in silence, now nearing the village, she said, “Am I in some kind of trouble?”

“I don’t know for what. I’m too tired to think clearly. I haven’t slept in three days.” He took the turn behind the emporium and parked in front of the clinic. "Did that thing break your door latch?"

"Yes. If not for Jason's dog . . ." She shook her head.

He left his hat in his truck and led her up the steps into the reception area. He didn’t see his lady. “Nancy?”

“In here.” She waited in her private office with the door open.

Nason led Carolyn in.

Nancy worked at her computer. “Give me just a minute.” After about one minute, she shut off the screen, stood, walked around her desk and extended both hands to Carolyn. “Hello, Carolyn.” She smiled that friendly woman smile then cast a hard look at Nason. “I don’t know why Phil insisted on bringing you in here.” Her cynicism sliced. “But, he is the sheriff.” She rounded the corner and pulled Carolyn into the small ward.

Nason followed.

The ward had three beds, one with a plastic cover over the sheet. Clean sheets had been placed over Helfred's separated remains on the other two beds.

Carolyn planted her feet in the doorway, obviously sensing something bad, turned sideways like she wanted to run. She looked over her shoulder at the beds, easier to look away.

Nancy thrust both hands into the pockets of her white smock and positioned herself near the first bed. “I’ve been here nearly five years and this is only the second time we’ve had an incident like this. The other was Kidro, your father-in-law.” She took one hand out of her pocket, grabbed a corner of a sheet and walked down the length of the bed, exposing the headless shoulders and splintered sternum of Helfred Jacobsen, caked with dried blood,