In the Shadow of Death
smirked at Dempster, who was trying his best to avoid looking at the two women. “What do you say, constable?” Luckily for Dempster, Brossard didn’t wait for an answer. “As it happens, I do know about the mine, the explosion and the subsequent death of a Mr. George Fenwick.” He turned back to Kate. “And I find it very hard to believe you know nothing.”
    â€œWhat are you implying?” Kate answered furiously. “I’m the one who’s been asking you for help. I’m the one who’s sick with fear for my husband and all I get from you and Hendrix is telling me not to worry. Well, I am worried.” She buried her head in her hands, fresh tears flowing.
    For once, Brossard seemed discomfited. “Mrs. Guthrie,” he said at last, “I’m sorry if we appear uncaring, but we have to satisfy ourselves that your husband didn’t just take off somewhere . . . perhaps with your knowledge.” He looked over to Dempster for corroboration, but the constable was staring fixedly out the window. “Look at it from our point of view, see . . . His disappearance could’ve been just the outcome of a quarrel between you . . . ” His voice trailed off. “I realize now we . . . I . . . was mistaken.”
    â€œThank you for that, at least,” Kate answered tearfully.
    Maggie, not being a tearful person, was getting thoroughly fed up with Kate constantly bursting into tears. If she was like this when hubby was around, no wonder he’s disappeared. After the two policemen had departed, she moved toward the back door. “I’m going to talk to Hendrix.”
    To her dismay, Kate decided to come along, and she led the way to the red barn, where they climbed the flight of rough wooden stairs to the loft where Hendrix had his office. They found him seated at an old wooden table, pecking away on a portable typewriter.
    â€œJamie, Christine and Nordstrom are on their way,” Kate informed him. “They want to ask you questions about the ranch.”
    He nodded.
    â€œI’ll need the Rover to pick them up from the dock.”
    Hendrix nodded again and resumed his typing.
    â€œThe police have been here again,” she said.
    â€œSo what did they want this time?” he asked laconically.
    â€œThey questioned me about Douglas’ disappearance again,” Kate answered. “And the gold mine he used to own.”
    His expression never changed.
    â€œWhy didn’t he tell me about it?” Kate demanded. When Hendrix didn’t answer, she continued. “Do you know where Douglas is, Brian?”
    â€œWhy ask me?” He turned back to his pecking.
    â€œDamn it!” Kate said, beginning to cry again, though they were angry tears this time. “You’re supposed to be his manager. You know more about his business affairs than I do. Who else should I ask, the bloody horses?” She turned to stamp back down the stairs. Halfway down, she paused. “Coming, Maggie?”
    â€œYou go,” Maggie answered. “I have a few things to talk over with Mr. Hendrix.”
    â€œI’m busy,” Hendrix said after Kate had left. “So if you’re playing detective, make it snappy.”
    â€œYou knew who the man in the Jeep was, didn’t you?” Maggie asked.
    â€œWhat gave you that crazy idea?”
    â€œI saw your face when the sheet was pulled down. You knew him.”
    Hendrix shrugged. “I just thought he looked familiar. Now that the cops have identified him as Lewis Sarazine, sure, I realize that I’d seen the guy around.” He turned to his desk again. “Anything else?”
    â€œWhy did you discourage Kate from going to the police when Doug first disappeared?”
    â€œI figured he was gonna be sore when he got back and found out she was carrying on like he’d been kidnapped or something. I told her a guy needs to go off on his own sometime.”
    â€œBut

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