A/N: Thanks to Caranath, zenfrodo, Jackie, unobtrusive, Vinsmouse and Leya for the feedback! I love hearing your thoughts! The focus is back on the mystery in this chapter. Thank you for reading!

Chapter 6

The bull lowered his head and rammed the ATV hard. Joe jumped backwards. Damn, this was getting serious.

He quickly decided that escaping the field in the ATV was going to be impossible. He looked around and spotted the fence about thirty feet behind him. And ten feet or so beyond that stood a young cottonwood tree.

Joe turned back to the bull, who had been sidetracked temporarily when his horns tangled in the upholstery of the ATV seat. Joe knew he didn't have much time and he was done messing around with this animal. The thought of those horns getting tangled somewhere in his rib cage definitely held no appeal.

The bull released himself and backed up a bit. He snorted and shook his head. Crap, now he's really angry.

Joe quickly peeled off his t-shirt. It wasn't red, but hopefully, it would do. Please let all those bull fighters waving their capes around not be something they do just for show.

He held his shirt out and shook it, as he backed up slowly toward the fence. The bull tossed his head again and Joe gulped.

He waved his shirt once more as the animal pawed at the grass.

Here goes nothing. He tossed it into the wind as far away from him as he could, then took off running toward the fence at a breakneck pace, not even pausing to see what the bull had done.

When he reached the fence, he slid between the strands of barbed wire stopping only when he reached the cottonwood tree. Hiding behind the trunk, he dared a backward glance.

The bull was charging the ATV again. So much for his matador skills. Joe's legs felt like rubber, but he did not want to stay within sniffing distance of the animal any longer, so he began his long walk back to the barn.

OOOoooOOO

Emily never screamed when she was truly frightened. Her voice seemed to catch in her throat, and no sound would come out.

As she surveyed the interior of the henhouse, that was exactly what happened. She backed up into the far wall, and braced herself against some bins, horrified by the scene that met her eyes.

She felt something wet and sticky on her hands, and pulling them away from the bins, turned and ran out the door as fast as she possibly could.

Opening the gate, she was ready to run for the barn and her uncle, when she saw Tim coming up from the garden.

"Hey there, darlin'," he said, a smile spreading across his face as she headed toward him. As she came closer, his expression changed to one of concern.

"Emily, what on earth?" Tim grabbed her by the arms as he stared down at her. "Are you bleeding, honey?"

Emily found her voice as she looked at her hands and her dress. "N-no." She choked back a sob. "Tim, come to the henhouse, please."

He didn't ask any more questions, just took off at a dead run ahead of her into the chicken yard.

OOO

"Good Lord," he said as he surveyed inside of the henhouse. It reminded him of the St. Valentine's Day massacre. Blood, feathers and chickens were everywhere. Slaughtered.

He turned his head, as he saw Emily cautiously opening the door. "Darlin', maybe you'd better wait outside."

"Tim, what happened?" Her eyes were still wide as she stood in the doorway.

"I don't know." He stepped gingerly over to the other side of the coop, peering into the nesting boxes. More dead chickens.

"Damn," he said under his breath. He noticed a piece of paper in one of the boxes and fished it out. "Animals first, who's next? Don't want to find out? Give up," he read aloud.

"What's that?"

"A threat." Tim walked back to her side. "This ain't no practical joke, that's for sure. Come on, honey. I'm getting you out of here."

As they stood inside the pen, Emily looked worriedly toward the farmhouse. "Aunt Susan can't see this. Those hens were like pets to her."

Tim nodded grimly. "I know." He gazed around. "I need to find Ed, but I don't want to leave you by yourself."

She took a long, shaky breath. "I'll be okay."

He shook his head. "No, honey. Whoever did this could still be close by. That blood was fairly fresh. I think it happened sometime this morning."

OOOoooOOO

Jake stared open-mouthed as Joe entered the barn, shirtless, and ATV-less. Joe returned the stare.

"Any reason you didn't tell me you keep a bull in the south pasture?"

"What?" Jake was startled. "There isn't a bull in that pasture."

"I beg to differ. He's black, has huge horns, snorts loudly, and right now is eating an ATV for lunch."

"Sawyer," Jake hissed.

"That the name of the non-existent bull?"

"How did he get out there?" Jake went over to the phone. "He's not kept anywhere near that pasture."

Joe shook his head and grabbed a flannel shirt hanging on a hook. "Can I borrow this?"

Jake nodded as he began dialing.

"Someone is playing a dangerous game around here," Joe muttered. "Maybe more dangerous than we thought." He stomped out of the barn and headed toward the farmhouse.

OOO

Emily stared at the blood on her hands, unable to get the scene in the henhouse out of her head. She shivered. "I wish Joe and Frank were here."

"Where'd they go?" Tim asked.

"In town to do some investigating." She looked up at him. "We need to call Sheriff Payne, too."

Tim nodded. "Maybe you should clean yourself up in the barn, then go back to the house and keep Susan there. I'll go find Ed and call the Sheriff."

"Yeah, I guess that's the..." Emily paused as she saw Joe walking across the front lawn of the farmhouse. She started to run toward him, but Tim held her back.

"Honey, don't go that way, your aunt will see you through the kitchen window."

OOO

Joe caught a flash of motion out of the corner of his eye, and looked up to see Tim grab Emily by the arm and pull her back toward him. What on earth was he doing?

Joe walked rapidly in their direction as Tim continued holding onto Emily while he spoke to her. When Joe came within twenty feet of them, he noticed her hands and clothes seemed to be covered in something red, and he sprinted forward.

Emily turned as he approached. "Joe, I'm so glad you're here."

Joe's eyes focused on Tim. "What the hell is going on?" He marched up to Emily and looked at her. "Is that blood, baby? Are you hurt?"

"No, Joe. Wait." She stepped in between him and Tim. "Something awful happened."

"What?"

She motioned for him to follow her and led him back to the henhouse. Joe walked through the door with Tim close behind him. Joe whistled low as he looked around. This was definitely something serious. A deliberate message delivered in a very violent way. The metallic smell of blood filled the air as Joe stared at dead chickens. Whoever did this was sick.

"I found this note." Tim handed it to Joe, interrupting his thoughts.

"Where?"

Tim gestured, "Over by the nesting boxes."

"You walked through here?" Joe's voice rose. This was not what he needed. Some jackass cowboy messing up the crime scene.

"Yeah, why not?"

"Clues, footprints, evidence."

Tim looked him straight in the eyes. "I walked over to the nest boxes and back. I didn't touch anything other than this note."

Joe sighed. "It's always better to leave evidence undisturbed until the police get to the crime scene."

"Yeah, well Emily came running out of here terrified, with blood all over her." Tim gave him a hard look. "Pardon me for wanting to make sure there was no one in here trying to hurt her."

Joe's tone softened. He would have done the same thing. "Sorry. Thanks for that."

"I didn't do it for you," he stated flatly.

Joe turned and looked around the henhouse. "Why were these the only chickens killed? Why not the ones in the yard?"

"These are the laying hens," Tim explained. "Kill them and you're out of eggs."

Joe nodded. "So this hurts the ranch economically then?"

Tim shrugged. "Not really. Susan has the chickens as a way to get eggs for the family and the ranch. She doesn't sell them."

"A personal warning then."

"She thinks of these chickens as pets."

"This is going to devastate her," Emily said, peeking in from just outside the henhouse door. Her eyes filled with tears. "How could anyone be so cruel?"

Joe looked at her liquid eyes and said softly, "Baby, why don't you wait out there? I need to check for clues."

"I'll sit with you Em," Tim offered. "Apparently, I'll only screw things up in here." He shot Joe a look as he exited the henhouse.

Joe was torn as he heard Emily's tearful voice and Tim's comforting tone in the chicken yard. He took a deep breath and set his insecurities aside for the moment.

He glanced around the henhouse. What kind of nut job were they dealing with? He examined a few chicken carcasses, and looked everywhere for a weapon the perpetrator might have used, but found nothing.

Checking out the floor closely, he did find some evidence of footprints in the blood, but they weren't clear enough to get a measurement or an imprint from. Joe bent down to examine one more closely. All this blood obviously made the floor wet. Whoever left this print slid and maybe even fell.

He noticed a rather large blood smear in the center of the henhouse. This would definitely have left a substantial stain on someone's clothing. Looked like he was going to have to do a laundry check.

OOO

Frank guided Nancy into the local diner behind Pete and Jamie Brookings. "Wow, it looks like the nineteen-forties in here," he said, gazing around.

"Well, you know how we feel about change," Jamie said as she sidled up to him.

"Counter okay?" Pete asked, as he took a seat on a stool.

"Oh, I love these things." Nancy spun herself around on the red-vinyl-covered stool in front of the long Formica countertop. "Dad used to take me to the drug store in River Heights every Saturday for lunch." She grinned at Frank. "I twirled around on these things until I was almost too sick to eat."

Frank gave her a big smile. "I can picture you doing that."

Jamie pushed a menu into his line of vision. "Try a milkshake, Frank. They're the best anywhere."

He was about to reply, when the door burst open and Sheriff Payne entered.

"What are you two doing here?" he addressed Nancy and Frank.

"Um, getting some lunch, why do you ask?" Frank thought the sheriff looked troubled. Something was up.

"I got a message from the ranch." The sheriff stepped behind the counter and picked up a phone, nodding to a red-headed waitress. "Tim says there's been some kind of incident."

Frank exchanged a worried glance with Nancy while the sheriff dialed a number. He hoped it was nothing serious, but by the look on Sheriff Payne's face, he felt it probably was.

"Yeah, Tim, this is Payne. What's up?" He turned away from the counter. "You're kidding? Yep, on my way." He hung up and looked at Frank. "I'm headed out there right now, and I think you two had better come along."

OOO

Twenty minutes later, Nancy strode over to the chicken yard, a half step behind Frank and Sheriff Payne. Joe, Tim and Ed were there to greet them.

"What's going on?" Frank asked his brother.

"Well, let's see, earlier this morning, I was almost killed by a bull loose in a pasture where he wasn't supposed to be. And now we have this. A pretty serious threat, if you ask me," Joe replied. "Have a look."

Nancy followed Frank and the sheriff through the gate of the poultry enclosure and into the henhouse. She gasped in horror and covered her mouth with her hands.

"Oh my gosh," she cried. "This is awful!"

"You shouldn't be in here, darlin'," the sheriff told her.

She instantly regretted her comment. "I'm fine. What happened?"

"Apparently Emily came in to gather the eggs this morning, and this is what she found," Ed gestured. He shook his head. "I don't know how my wife is going to deal with this."

"Where is she?" Nancy asked.

"In the house. Emily's with her."

Nancy tried to quell the nausea that was rising up in her. The stench in the henhouse was awful and the blood was making her knees weak.

She put her hand on a metal feed bin to steady herself and quickly pulled it away when she saw the blood. She swallowed hard and vowed that no matter what, she wasn't going to lose it. That would end the possibility of these cowboys ever taking her seriously as a detective.

She noticed Frank was staring at her, concern written all over his face. He moved close to her and put his arm firmly around her waist.

"I think we've seen all we need to see in here," Frank said. "Let's talk about this outside."

Nancy gave him a grateful look as they stepped back into the brilliant mid-day sunshine. She gulped in big breaths of fresh air as Joe handed Frank a note. "Tim found this in a nest box."

Frank scanned the two lines and gave it to Sheriff Payne. "It seems to threaten harm to someone on the ranch next."

"Yeah, it sure does." Sheriff Payne rubbed his chin, then turned to Tim. "And you say the blood was still wet when you came in?"

Tim nodded. "Must've happened this morning."

"Wouldn't the hens have made some sort of noise?" Joe asked.

Sheriff Payne shook his head. "Naw. These are fairly tame laying hens. Plus, if you kill a chicken right, you slit its throat. It won't make any noise."

Nancy made a face before she spoke. "Then, um, based on what you see with these chickens, the person knew what they were doing?"

"They're familiar with farm animals, that's for sure," the sheriff agreed.

"Well, that only narrows it down to just about everyone in the county," Frank said with a sigh.

"Yep, I'm afraid we've got our work cut out for us." The sheriff turned to Ed. "You got a camera? I'm gonna need some pictures."

Joe raised his hand. "I took care of that. You can have my film."

"Mighty kind of you," Sheriff Payne said. "Oh, and I'd appreciate your help if you can give it." He smiled at Nancy. "You too, Missy."

She smiled back, feeling victorious. And overjoyed that she hadn't thrown up on his shoes. "I knew you'd see the light."