Small Town Filly (Sandbar Stables Cozy Mystery Book 1) by Bethanie Cushman Page B

end of the dock along with the emergency medical people. "Has somebody got it out for anyone catering to tourists out here? Is it possible that we're not the only target?"
                  "I don't know. But after you found that rock thrown inside the house, I decided I wasn't going to wait for the local cops to figure it out."
                  He turned to face her, and she could see the pistol in its holster strapped to his belt. "I haven't worn it since you got here, but I have a permit for it. And I've had plenty of training."
                  Lance watched her closely, as though expecting her to object, but she only stared at the weapon for a moment and then slowly nodded her head. "Okay," she said quietly. "Maybe I should do the same."
                  "I'll teach you anytime you want."
                  "I guess it beats instant glue for dealing with crooks." Then she took hold of the fence and stretched up on her toes, trying to see out to the end of the dock. "It looks like they're bringing something up."
                  First, the diver threw something up onto the wooden dock—something long and slim, with a shiny piece of metal at one end of it. "If I didn't know better," said Alex, "I'd say that was a belt."
                  "It is. It's a brown belt with a big skull-shaped buckle in the middle of it."
                  "In the middle–"
                  "Yes. As if the belt had been buckled, but then cut in half up the back."
                  Alex felt a chill. That was exactly the belt that Chuck Wood always wore. As she watched, one of the cops took the belt and carried it to his car. Alex and Lance just looked at each other without saying a word.
    Several of the medical people and a few of the cops all lined up at the very edge of the dock, looking down at the water.
                  The diver had apparently been hard at work down there, because the men on the dock all reached down and took hold of what looked like a black rubber body bag. Working together, they dragged it up onto the end of the dock and then stepped back from it as the water poured off of the bag.
                  They seemed to be arguing back and forth with the diver, although Alex could not imagine why. Then she noticed something.
                  "Lance," she said, "I recognize that belt just like you do. But if that's him—if that's Chuck Wood in that body bag, then why is it…" She could not get the rest out.
                  "Why is it so small?"
                  She closed her eyes. "Yes. Yes."
                  He only shrugged. "Could be any number of reasons. But there are sharks out there, you know. Bull sharks. Other kinds. If he fell off of one of his boats…"
                  Alex looked out over the smooth waters of the gulf. It was so peaceful and beautiful out there. There was no way to tell that just under the glassy blue surface might be terrible danger.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
                  Alex somehow got through the rest of the day at the stables. She'd expected hard work when she'd come out here, but nothing like this. Her only exposure to things like threats and vandalism and animal cruelty had only been through paperwork at the law office—at least, they had been until now, when she was dealing with such things almost every day on her own property.
    Along with the very real possibility that something far worse had happened right next door.
    Just as she was starting her car to leave that night, there was a tap on the window. She looked up to see Lance standing there and put the window down.
    "I was just going to say," Lance began, "that if Mr. Wood is now…gone…I don't think too many people will be sorry to hear it."
    "I don't think so, either," said Alex. "Especially his wife."
    "Yeah. And