Cedar Creek, Nevada - Sunday, July 2, 1995 2 Days Prior . . .

Cedar Creek, Nevada

Sunday, July 2, 1995 2 Days Prior . . .

“YOU ALONE?” SANDY YELLED FROM THE ROOFTOP.

It caused Preston to look around for the source.

“Answer the question.”

“Yeah,” Preston yelled. “I’m alone.”

“Stay where you’re at and don’t move. Understand?”

“What’s this about, Sheriff?”

Sandy didn’t answer. He left the rifle on top of the chimney and climbed down the side of the roof to where a shed stood next to the cabin. He jumped onto the roof of the shed and hurried over to the side where he’d set up a ladder earlier. He clambered down to the ground, pulled his Glock from its holster, and hurried to the side of the cabin. When he peeked around the corner he saw Preston Margolis in the same spot on the driveway. With his Glock out in front of him, Sandy emerged.

When Preston saw Sandy, he raised his hands.

“What the hell, Sandy?”

“Open the trunk.”

“What?”

“Open it!”

“I’m alone, Sandy. Who the hell do you think I’m bringing with me?”

“Humor me.”

Preston walked to the back of the BMW and pulled open the trunk. Sandy came around and pointed his Glock into the back of the empty space. He went to the passenger’s side door next and pulled it open. Also empty.

“Feel better?” Preston asked.

“Forgive me for trusting a Margolis as far as I can throw him.”

Sandy holstered his gun.

“Where the hell are we?”

“My family’s hunting cabin.”

“Why did you have me come all the way out here?”

“Because someone’s trying to frame your wife for Baker Jauncey’s murder, and I need your help figuring out who it is.”