A Cold White Sun: A Constable Molly Smith Mystery (Constable Molly Smith Series) Read Free Page A

helped to keep the demons at bay.
If he secluded himself in the wilderness it wouldn’t be long before his defenses crumbled and he took the coward’s way out.
And ended it all.
Through the trees he could see the building. A two-room log cabin in a clearing, close to a small stream, now frozen over. No smoke drifted from the chimney. He’d been gone for four hours, long enough for the fire to go out. Jürgen kept the woodshed well stocked, but Mark would take the axe out later, chop down a couple of dead trees, cut them into suitable size for the stove, stack the logs.
Someday he’d give into the demons.
But not today.

Chapter Four

Molly Smith knew the hiking trail well. She and Adam went there when they needed a walk or to give Norman a run but didn’t have enough time to go far. It was located on an old abandoned railway bed, high above the city. Within the town limits, but you felt as if you were in the wilderness. The trail itself was roughly maintained, but nothing else. No restrooms or picnic benches or directional signs. Just a path meandering through thick woods that occasionally opened up to give the best view in Trafalgar. A parking area had been put in at one end of the trail, but people often parked on the streets that ended at the top of the hill.
Trafalgar was built into the side of a mountain; streets got steeper and steeper as they climbed. They also got narrower and narrower as snowplows continually pushed snow up against the edges. More than one vehicle was trapped, surrounded by a mountain of snow where the plow had simply gone around it. The mountain was so steep houses at the top could experience different weather than those at the bottom. Up here, there hadn’t been as much melt over the past few days.
A woman waited for Smith at the end of Martin Street. She was young, practically clad in good, but not expensive, winter gear. A shaggy brown dog of indeterminate breed, what Smith’s dad, Andy, would have called a Heinz 57, waited politely at her feet. The dog’s muzzle and the tips of his toes were as white as the snow he sat upon. Smith pulled in behind a blue Honda Accord that had seen a lot of miles, switched off her lights, and climbed out of the truck.
“That way. It’s that way. Hurry,” the woman said.
“Hold on a sec. You called in a body?”
“Yes, a woman. She’s not far. Rex found her.” The dog gave Smith a rheumy-eyed once-over. Not impressed with what he saw, he turned his head and set about chewing at his nether regions.
Another siren broke the quiet. An ambulance, leaving the hospital. Smith glanced over her shoulder.
“You won’t need the ambulance,” the woman said.
“Are you sure?”
She took a deep breath. “Oh, yes. My husband’s with her. He’s waiting for you.”
Smith stepped onto the path. “Are you coming?”
“I’d…If you don’t mind, I’d rather not. I’ve seen more than enough. And…” she nodded to the dog. “I don’t want to take Rex back. Follow my footsteps. It’s not far.”
“Tell the paramedics where I’ve gone.” Smith broke onto the trail. The snow on the sides was deep, but the path was well used and firmly packed under the fresh dusting. The footsteps of the woman and dog were easy to follow. Below lay the roofs of houses clinging to the edge of the hill, the steep winding road, the quiet town, the black river meandering between the mountains, the bridge leading to the other side.
Smith broke into a jog, calling out as she ran, and before long a man answered, “Over here.”
Evergreens were piled with snow, the branches of the few aspens and cottonwoods stark and bare. She rounded the bend and could see him up ahead, standing in the trail. Something dark lay near his feet, not moving. The rocky face of the mountain rose sharply above them.
The man was young, bearded, dressed for outdoors in the cold. He looked at her, but said nothing more.
On the ground, a black coat, a green scarf. Red snow. A dog barked and Smith glanced