Dead on the Fourth of July (David Dean Mysteries)

"Just checking out what all the concern is about. Great place for a getaway lodge, isn't it?"

No one answered until Dean finally said, "The bus service stinks."

"Yeah, well, I suppose it's a little tough in the winter."

"It's a lot tough nine months of the year. Like impassible."

"That right?"

"Did you go in the mine?" Jennifer asked.

"Me? Hell, no! I just came up here by myself to check out the property in general. Lawyer's work is never done." Then he added, "I guess I shouldn't be talking to you, seeing as we're adversaries and all." He glanced over his shoulder, back the way he'd come. "Well, I guess it's time I got back to town." He had just started toward his Jeep when there was a sound like a gunshot from above them.

While everyone heard the same noise, their reactions differed. The women looked frightened, Faust actually ducked, and David Dean moved to the cover of a nearby boulder, pulling his wife along with him.

"Is someone shooting at us?" Jennifer asked, a hint of fear in her voice.

"I don't know," Dean answered. "It might be a firecracker. The sound echos out here so it's hard to tell." He turned to Faust. "Was there anyone else up there?"

"No!" He said it too quickly. "Just me." He looked petrified.

"Well, there's certainly someone up there now," Dean answered as he peered around the rock.

"People can't just shoot a gun anywhere they want to, can they?" Jennifer asked. "It isn't hunting season, is it?"

"'Can' and 'should' are worlds apart," Dean answered. "It's private land, not national forest or park lands, and even though you or the Dawkinses own all this, it's not posted, except for the mine tunnel. But it definitely isn't hunting season, and there's no good reason for anyone to be shooting."

"What are we going to do?" Cynthia asked.

Dean was sure she was concerned that he'd attempt to investigate, but he had no such intention. "Wait. And listen." And that's what they did. Finally, after ten minutes of silence passed, they heard the sound of feet running down the slope on the other side of the rise above them. The escape was less than stealthy, and it was impossible to tell if there was more than one pair of feet. While the noise was distinct, it was some distance away. Dean emerged from behind the cluster of boulders and jogged to the edge of a clearing where he had a better view down the valley. He saw nothing, and the others cautiously emerged.

"Well," Faust said. "That's that. Kids, probably. I guess we'd all best get going." He gave a wave but no further comment as he hurried to his Jeep and left.