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when Willy asked us to stop.
    “What’s the matter?” Crystal asked.
    “I can’t take this anymore,” he said, sliding down off his mount.
    “You can walk him back,” Crystal said. “But remember what I said. Don’t wrap the reins around your hand.”
    “I’ll remember,” he grunted.
    Crystal reached the road and waited for us to catch up. We started back to the ranch, meandering along, taking in the scenery and enjoying the moment. We’d just turned onto the short road leading into the ranch when Socks and Holly burst through some low brush in pursuit of a rabbit. Socks, carrying his customary stick, quickly lost interest in the chase. He came to Willy and offered him the stick. Willy pulled it from his mouth.
    “You’re not supposed to do that,” Crystal said.
    Willy ignored her and tossed the stick over a row of bushes lining the road. Socks tore after it. Holly, who’d been outrun by the rabbit, joined him.
    We all laughed at their antics, then prodded the horses to move again. We’d gone maybe another hundred feet and were within fifty yards of the lodge when the dogs’ barking caused Crystal to halt the column and to look back at the canine commotion.
    “They’re sure excited about something,” Seth said.
    Crystal turned Daisy and urged her through a break in the bushes. Socks and Holly continued to bark. We watched as Crystal dismounted and used her foot to part the brush. Suddenly, her scream filled our ears.
    I slid down off Samantha, handed the reins to Seth, and ran to where Crystal stood, her faced etched with shock.
    “What is it?” I asked.
    “Look.” She pointed.
    I took a few steps in that direction and leaned over to see what had caused her reaction. The lower portion of a leg protruded from beneath the underbrush. At the bottom of it was a brown, ankle-high man’s hiking boot. A bit of white athletic sock protruded from it. There was a four-inch expanse of bare leg between where the sock stopped and the cuff of blue pants began. Burrs from low-lying bushes were stuck to his sock.
    “My God,” I said.
    “Who is it?” Crystal asked.
    “What’s the matter?” Seth shouted from his horse.
    I drew a deep breath, closed my eyes, opened them, and used my hands to part the bushes. It took a moment to clear a visual path, but when I did, I recoiled as though bitten by a snake.
    “Who is it?” Crystal repeated.
    “It’s Mr. Molloy,” I said. “I’m afraid he’s very dead.”

Chapter Five
    “I think someone should stay with the body,” I said, “while we go tell Jim and Bonnie.”
    “I will,” Crystal said, her voice reflecting her ambivalence.
    I returned to where Seth and Willy Morrison waited.
    “What’s going on?” Seth asked.
    “Mr. Molloy’s body is over there.”
    “Molloy? An accident?”
    “It doesn’t look that way to me, but that’s something for the police to decide. Come on. We’d better let Jim and Bonnie know. Coming, Mr. Morrison?”
    Willy was immobile; he looked frightened, in shock. He glanced back at Crystal, who’d retreated from Molloy’s body and stood with her hand covering her mouth. He looked at me, dropped his horse’s reins, and ran toward the cabins. I picked up the extra set of reins, and Seth and I walked the three horses to the house.
    Joe Walker, the chief wrangler, came from the office as we approached. “Good morning,” he said, tapping his wide-brimmed black hat. “How was the ride?”
    “The ride was fine,” Seth said. “Not a happy ending, though.”
    Walker’s expression turned serious. “Was someone hurt?”
    “Someone’s dead,” I said. “Mr. Molloy.”
    “An accident? Was he thrown?”
    “I don’t think so,” I said. “He wasn’t with us. Crystal discovered the body. She’s staying with it.”
    “Oh, boy,” Walker said. “Do Jim and Bonnie know?”
    “We’re on our way to tell them. Would you take these horses back to their stables?”
    “Sure.”
    Bonnie was in the office, doing paperwork.