Page 16 of Stormy Ride

“I can picture it,” I said.

“That’s when I yelled back at him and started shooting buckshot at them. I fired three times, and the one guy was hit for sure—probably in the leg or the ass. He ran for the truck while the other one slammed the back door of the trailer and ran for the driver’s side of the truck. While he was running, I fired the shotgun twice more and shot him in the ass. For sure, I hit that guy.”

“Good for you.”

“I don’t know what kind of shells Randy had in the gun but I was wishing it was double-ought so I could kill them dead. Horse thieves. Nothing lower.”

I nodded. “They drove off and you went looking for Randy?”

“As soon as they drove out the lane, I ran into the barn, and it only took me a second to find him. Randy was lying in one of the empty stalls and he was dead.” Mrs. Quade tried to hold back her tears. “There’s a shovel lying next to Randy. I didn’t touch it or move it.”

“And you were sure he was dead?”

“Absolutely. I used to be a nurse at Cut Bank hospital. Still am a nurse, but I’m retired.”

“Do you remember any writing on the truck?”

“Dark blue—truck and trailer—dark blue.”

Mrs. Quade was upset and repeating herself.

“No lettering. The guys were big redneck types with beards and bulky parkas. Couldn’t see much more than that.”

“You did well under pressure, Mrs. Quade. You stay here in the house, and I’ll wait for Doctor Olson in the barn.”

“I’ll fix a thermos of coffee for you, Sheriff, and bring it out when it’s ready. I wish I had thought to take the tag number of the truck down, but I guess I was too busy screaming and shooting.”

“You handled yourself well, Mrs. Quade. You said you had twenty horses in the barn?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll count and see how many are gone.”

“When I bring the coffee out, I’ll be able to give you descriptions of the ones that are missing.”

“That would be helpful.”

When I got to the barn, I took a closer look at the crime scene. Randy Quade was dead. I’d already confirmed that when I arrived. Blood on the shovel lying next to him in the stall. Fourteen horses in their stalls meant six were AWOL.

I called the state highway patrol and put a bulletin out for a dark blue truck and horse trailer combination with no identifying markings—wanted in connection with a robbery/homicide. Six stolen quarter horses on board.

I peered out the barn door now and then looking for the county coroner, but Mrs. Quade came with the coffee before Doctor Olson arrived.

She went from stall to stall writing down a description and the name of each horse that had been taken.

When Doctor Olson showed up, he did his preliminary examination and then I helped him get Randy into a body bag. The two of us carried Randy to the van and put him in the back door while Mrs. Quade watched.

“Do you have somebody who can come and stay with you?” I asked.

“I’ll call the boys and they’ll come. They’ll want to know all the details anyway.” Mrs. Quade gave me a funny look. “Do you think the thieves will come back?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t want you staying here alone in case that happens. They know there are fourteen horses still here.”

“Randy never bothered with much security. We never had any trouble with local folks. Not ever.”

“Did you ever see a trailer like that before?” I asked.

“Don’t think so, and I’ve seen a lot of them coming and going. We’ve been in the horse business for twenty years.”

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