“Then why is Garrison looking for you?” Wormsbecker growled back. “Get your horse and get off my property.”
Red jammed his hat back on his head and walked away, the thought of Lem Garrison turning his stomach. He’d met the superintendent just once, the same summer he’d met Claire. He’d heard about a job in the park looking after the ranger’s horses, and tried for it. He couldn’t believe his luck when he got an interview. He and Garrison hit it off and talked for an hour about horses. Red had the job wrapped up and was about to give his notice at Sunnyslope when Dell’s betrayal landed him in the Bozeman jail. Garrison wasn’t going to hire someone who had violated the Lacey Act, but what felt even worse was Red had lost the respect of a man he admired.
Now, in the light of the full moon, Red turned the Thunderbird down the gravel road to Sunnyslope, but the road to the ranch looked nothing like it should. The once-straight split rail fence was a crazy serpentine, and a stand of lodgepole pines lay flattened in the meadow. The scents of rock dust and pine sap thickened the air as the Thunderbird’s tires crunched into the ranch compound.
“Holy cow,” Sam said in an awed voice.
Red took in the moonlit chaos.
A massive crack rent the earth down the center of the compound and the big ranch house was cracked open like an egg. Water spewed from broken pipes like miniature geysers and shattered glass glittered on the lawn. On the other side of the circular drive, the massive horse barn leaned to one side. The paddock fence lay on the ground and Queenie, a dappled mare, stood miserably with a length of barbed wire wrapped around her leg.
Bucky lay in the dirt in front of the off-kilter bunkhouse.
Red stopped the car with a jerk, clambered out, and sprinted to Bucky.
Bridget was right behind him.
“Bucky, you hurt?” Why was Bucky even here on a Monday night? Then he remembered poker night. Bucky usually sat in for a few hands, ended up broke and sleeping in the bunkhouse. Bucky mumbled something and opened his eyes, blinking as if to clear his vision.
Bridget nudged Red aside. “Let me check him.”
Red looked toward the destroyed farmhouse. “Is anybody else in there?”
“Wormsbecker...” Bucky put his hand to his head.
Red ran toward the demolished farmhouse.
“Red, don’t,” Bucky called out. “The place is coming down.”
He ignored Bucky. If Wormsbecker was alive in there, he had to try to get to him. Red heard a muffled shout and ran around the side of the house, dodging puddles of mud and streaming water. He slammed his shoulder against the jammed kitchen door. Wood splintered and the door opened enough for him to push through.
In the slivers of moonlight, the kitchen looked like it had been ransacked by a hungry bear. Open cupboard doors, spilled coffee and flour. A stream of water gushing from under the sink. And something smelled wrong. Red’s pulse ratcheted as he recognized the scent.
Bucky pushed in behind Red, sniffed and caught Red’s eye. “Propane leak.”
“Walt, where are you?” Red called.
“Here.” Wormsbecker’s voice held a note of irritation. “In the pantry. My darn leg’s pinned.”
Following Wormsbecker’s voice, they crunched over broken dishes to the back of the dark kitchen. The pantry was a narrow room lined with shelving. Broken bottles littered the floor, the scent of propane masked by the sharp odors of brandy and vinegar. Wormsbecker was wedged against a wall, trapped by an oak beam that had come down from the second floor.
“Get this thing off me,” Wormsbecker growled as Red and Bucky picked their way through the debris. Red put his shoulder to the beam and lifted it enough for Bucky to pull Wormsbecker out. The house creaked as it settled another few degrees sideways.
“I was getting a bottle of brandy,” Wormsbecker explained as if Red had asked what he’d been doing when the quake hit. “Everything came down on me. I yelled for Endicott, then I heard his car start up and him hightailing it out of here.”
“He didn’t get far.” Red helped Bucky get the man to the kitchen. “Take him outside,” he said. “I need to try the telephone.”
In the front hall, a telephone lay on the floor amid crumbled ceiling plaster. He put the handset to his ear and punched at the receiver. No dial tone. Suddenly, the house started to creak. The wood floor buckled and another chunk of plaster fell from the ceiling. Outside, he heard Bucky shout his name. The building groaned and a window shattered. He pushed at the front door but it only opened a few inches.
Red’s heartbeat pounded in his ears, but he kept calm. There was no way he was going to be buried in Walt Wormsbecker’s ranchhouse. Not when he had to find Claire and Jenny. Red took a step back and kicked hard at the door. It flew open and he staggered across the porch.
As he reached the front step, Red heard the crackle of electricity, and a deep percussive boom sent him flying into the dark.
chapter 44:FRANNIE
Frannie sat in the cold beside the toppled car, staring into the dark. Her thoughts were fuzzy, like her head was full of static. She was alone, and nobody was coming to take care of her.
She became aware of the commotion around her. Pale shapes of people, climbing up from the water as she had done. Cries for help. Car doors slammed and an engine started. She watched a pair of headlights bump over grass and creep up the hill toward the highway. Were they leaving? Was everyone leaving her here alone? Didn’t anybody care about her?
