The News in Small Towns (Small Town Series, Book 1) by Iza Moreau Page B

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    “I should smile you did,” he replied.  “Darned arrow was stuck so deep into the trunk that I had to screw the point off and leave it there.  I’ve got your bow and stuff in the car.  Got the snake, too—I’ll give you ten bucks for the skin.  But don’t tell me you went out there rattlesnake huntin.”
    “No.  You guessed right about the burr.  I was trying to find out who put that goat in your dumpster.”
    “Now, Sue-Ann, we talked about that . . .”
    I tried to sit up, but it made my head ache more and I settled down again into the pillow.  “But Clarence,” I told him softly, trying to keep my head from pounding with excitement, “I found the place where they killed the goat.  And I saw two people; one was a guy with long dark hair and the other was a strawberry blonde girl .  Youngish.  Wait,” I continued, trying to think rationally through the pain and whatever drugs they had given me, “If you followed me out on that trail, you must have seen them.”
    Clarence looked blank.  “Sorry, Sue-Ann.  I didn’t see nobody.”
    “But that’s not possible.” I began, thinking rapidly.  “Unless . . . unless maybe they came out before you went in.”
    “That’s probably it.  But are you sure you saw somebody?”
    “Don’t treat me like I’m blind.”
    “Awright, Sue-Ann.  You don’t need to get upset.  But it was probably just a couple of backpackers out for a Sunday hike.”
    “How did you know they were wearing backpacks, Clarence?” I asked.
    “What else would backpackers wear?” he asked innocently.
    It was almost like the log had knocked some sense into me, because I was thinking more clearly than I had in months.  “Clarence,” I asked, “are you trying to tell me that you carried me for over an hour through the woods, and managed to bring my bow, my arrows, and a seven-foot rattlesnake at the same time?”
    Clarence stiffened and I knew that something was going on.  “Now, Sue-Ann,” he stammered, “you just had a hard knock on your—”
    Before he could finish, a woman dressed in white came into my peripheral vision.  Nurse or no nurse, I glared at Clarence, waiting for his “explanation.”  The woman spoke first.
    “Sue-Ann!”  The voice made me forget about Clarence altogether.  I made the mistake of turning  my head too fast and the pain almost made me cry out. 
    “Gina.”
    “Mah gosh, Sue-Ann,” Gina said, out of breath.  She was dressed more simply that I had ever seen her: white jeans, white blouse, sandals.  Her hair was straight and tied back with an elastic band.  “Ah came as soon as ah heard.  Are you all raht?  Clarence, is she all raht?  Where’s the damn doctor?”  Gina took my hand and squeezed it gently.
    “She’ll be fine, um, Ginette,” said Clarence, who looked totally surprised to see her.  “Just busted her head open a little.  The doctor had an emergency; said he’d be here in a few minutes.”
    “How did you know I was here?” I asked her.
    “Dilly Dollar called Cal at home,” she said.  “Told him you’d been in a serious accident.”
    “But how did Dilly—” I began.
    “He was at the hospital when I drove up,” Clarence said.  “He was writing up a report on some kind of abuse.  He helped the nurses get you on the gurney.”
    “What did you tell him?” I asked.
    “Just that you’d had an accident.  Guess he thought I meant you’d crashed your truck.” 
    “You didn’t?” asked Gina.
    “No.  I just fell and bumped my head on a log.  It’s not that serious.  I’ll