Laurel wiped her tears and stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. "I look like hell," she said.

Dan handed her another tissue. "You look like a mother whose son is badly injured and you've finally had a chance to cry over it."

"He will be alright, won't he?" She leaned back against him and he folded his arms around her.

"You have my word, as a veterinarian."

She laughed and he smiled. "That's the girl I married. Laughter in the face of all odds." He turned her around to face him. "He will be okay. Even the EMT they sent said so. He just needs time to recover."

"Why won't he talk to us?"

"I repeat: he needs time to recover."

She sighed and walked into the bedroom. "I wish we could leave, now."

"We all do." He turned on the hot water carafe at the wet bar to make tea for her. "But the troopers said the roads aren't the best to travel at night. And with Jackson stable, I'd rather wait."

She nodded agreement as she got into bed and pulled the covers up. "Has anyone gotten hold of Mara's family?"

"The Sergeant – McKenzie? – said they've been informed." The water was boiling and he poured it into cups. There were only packets of a spicy black tea left, he made a note to himself to mention it to Westerby. He didn't think they'd have any trouble sleeping. He gave her the cups to hold as he got into bed.

"She's quite a piece of work, that Sergeant." He said taking his cup.

"How so?" She sipped the tea.

"Well…" He thought a moment. "She's pleasant enough but I felt like she was looking for something to, I don't know, pin on me."

"Like what?" alarm was in both her voice and face.

Dan patted her arm. "Don't worry, I'm sure it's just her job and she's got to make sense out of this, not that we can. Poor Jackson's going to get the brunt of it, I'm afraid, when he's well enough to tell everyone what happened."

"There's nothing to tell. Mara fell into that… whatever that was, is, I'm sure her parents will sue. That pit should have been cleaned up years ago? All that glass. Shards and shards of it."

"I wonder if there's really that much there?" Dan frowned, trying to imagine Mara falling into a low gully full of glass shards. "Jackson had so many cuts but Mara's weren't as bad, except that deep one in her neck."

Laurel turned to him, eyes wide. "How could that be? If she fell in there wouldn't she have the same amount?"

"From what I could see the wound wouldn't have killed her immediately. She may have been stunned and didn't move enough to get a lot of cuts. I didn't check to see if there was a head wound. I just looked at, well, the facial and shoulder bruises."

"Jackson would never hit her!" she shook her head squeezing her cup until the color drained from her hands.

He took the cup and put it on the night stand with his and then took her hands in his. "I didn't say he did. I know my son. He wouldn't do something like that. We raised him right. It's just that, he had so many cuts and she had so few."

"It's because – and I told that trooper who asked me questions the same thing – it's because our boy went in to save her and wasn't careful." She said. "It was raining and slippery and he couldn't keep his footing. He was trying to save the woman he loved. Even if she was a… well, she's dead so I won't say it. But to think she wanted to kill our grandchild."

"Would you rather she married him, made him miserable – and the child – and then abandoned both of them?" They slid further under the covers and he held her close while she thought about his question.

Finally. "Yes." She said. "Because he would have us and we could help with the child. And she could go her merry way and never bother us again."

"She definitely won't be doing that," he said as he kissed her forehead and waited for sleep to make the night by go faster.

****

On Westerby's porch he and McKenzie watched as the lights in the guest quarters went off one by one, except for a low light in Jackson's room. No doubt his sister was keeping vigil over him.

"So she kicked the table, huh?"

Startled at the voice in the night air Westerby turned to McKenzie. "What?"

She chuckled. "She kicked the table? I would have liked to have seen that. What's the sister's name? Molly? What does she weigh, 98 pounds with three years of winter clothing on?"

"Oh, yeah." Westerby nodded. "Never touched the body but she sure was pissed off at the woman, I thought she was going to break a toe."

McKenzie nodded. Her hot toddy had gone cold in the freezing air and she was starting to feel a little chilled. "I had a quick look at the everyone's notes and as much as those people are trying to hide behind some sort of civility it's pretty damned clear they hated that young woman's guts."

"Enough to kill her?" Westerby was also feeling a little chilled. But McKenzie had that look in her eye that said she had a thing or two to say first so he waited.

"I wouldn't be surprised." She sipped the last of the cold hot toddy. "So, you ever going to come off this mountain, old man?"

He shrugged. It was an old and comfortable argument she was determined to bring up and he happily joined in. "You ready to leave the bright lights and culture of the big city, Sergeant?"

She laughed. "Yeah, big city, all four hundred of us."

Remeriz stepped outside a moment. "We're going to turn in, Sarg, unless you want to go over those reports again."

She waved at him. "Go ahead. You guys have a pool going yet on who did it?"

Remeriz paused. "So you think it was murder, then?"

"Oh hell, yes. County prosecutors are going to have a field day with this, for sure." Remeriz retreated back into Westerby's quarters and McKenzie cocked an eyebrow at her old friend. "Get ready to be run over by all sorts of city folk, old man."

Westerby sighed and stood up, stretching his back out from sitting two long with his feet propped on the porch railing. "Oh goody, summer crowds when we're all snowed in."

She laughed as they went inside. "Maybe the weather will hold them off until spring time. Night cap, Angus?"

He smiled. "Don't mind if I do."