LEGEND of the DAGGER Jennifer Ferimore Mysteries Book One

Chapter 1

Why was I sent the letter?

It was a warm fall day in Jennifer's hometown of Cheyenne Wyoming when she walked toward the mailbox to get her sister's mail for her. Opening the mailbox Jennifer pulls out a letter. Noticing the sender tearing it open with great anticipation she reads the letter forming a smile on her face. As Jennifer walked toward the wooden fence, her mood lightened. She had just received a final letter from her attorney that her divorce was over. Jennifer was an old fashioned kind of girl. Raised on a ranch she was a bit of a cowgirl but could easily grace the cover of a modeling magazine. She was married to a gruff guy who drank too much who was hired by her dad as a cowhand. He would stay out late and get into trouble with management for not carrying his share of the work. Often there were complaints from some of the more reliable ranch hands. Jennifer caught him cheating on her which led to the divorce.

She extended her stride and took the last few steps toward the gate. Her hair had a wild look to it. Must have been the wind. Opening it, she pushed through the door and toward her sister who was working in the garden. "You're never going to guess but I got the final letter from my lawyer. I'm free." Her voice was bubbly. A ray of sunshine lit Jennifer's face. The smartphone buzzed yet another text message. Susan sent Jennifer a message showing she had just received a letter from England sent to Jennifer, and that there was a package waiting for her. Pulling her phone from her back pocket reading the message. "By the way I just got a text from you, what's up?" She let out a breath, she scrubbed a hand through her hair.

The other letter from their uncle was forwarded to Susan. Susan pulled the last of the weeds when Jennifer came bursting through the backyard gate laughing and shouting. Why is she so happy? Susan wondered. She could hear her babbling, her dialog giving only fragments, asking herself what is going on? Jennifer was pacing and jumping, giddy as a child on Christmas morning. Susan noticed Jennifer wearing a light windbreaker, jeans, and a tee-shirt, pumping her fist in the air as she held mail from her attorney for her recent divorce a three months prior. Walking over to the patio with Susan in tow Jennifer sat on a wooden bench outside on the back porch, at her sister's home, clutching the letter detailing how her life would change.

Jennifer stared vacuously at the bird fountain standing in the garden amidst the many colorful blooms accenting the lawn and tugged her thin windbreaker tight around her slender frame to ward off the chill permeating the dawn air. Inattentive only to realize it dresses her so inappropriately for the morning. Reflecting on how different things were just a month ago. Contemplating her current situation, hearing the back door swing open, admitting her sister, Susan, out onto the porch. Approaching the bench where Jennifer sat, still wearing her warm blue fleece robe, hair in a ponytail and make-up free. Gazing out at the rising sun which spilling small rays of sunshine across the frosty grass in the yard. She held two steaming cups of coffee. Offering her the welcomed cup of hospitality.

"Here you go, Jen, nothing like fresh java to start the morning." Susan gave her an affectionate smile.

Jennifer took the mug her sister offered, slow and deliberate sipping it. She closed her eyes to savor the kindness. "This is amazing," she replied, holding it between both hands, willing the heat to warm her entire body. "Thanks, Suz, I needed coffee."

"Here is the letter I mentioned you got from the firm. Saw you dancing. What's up?"

"It's my copy of the divorce papers from my attorney. No more nasty phone calls, emails or him begging me to take him back. I'm free of that jerk." Her eyes sparkled. Her tone was bright.

"You're never going to believe this, but I received a letter from England on behalf of Uncle Tom. I am required to read his will." Reading the letter her sister gave her. Only two months have passed since they last spoke with him, and he had no children.