by Ellen Riggs
“Thank you, Mom,” I called after her. “That was really good of you.”
She turned and gave me an arch smile. “I do what I can for my favorite daughter. Now take good care of my sweet Buttercup. Treat her as well as this shaggy mutt of yours.”
Keats trotted beside her, tail lashing in a most undignified way. Regardless of Mom’s quirks, he adored her. I could only assume he sensed she’d delivered me into the world, because he didn’t show that sloppy affection to anyone else… even me.
Opening the rear passenger door, Kellan helped Mom into the police car. “Officer Galloway, let’s go,” he called. “On the job, remember.”
“Get along now, Asher,” Gertrude said. “I don’t feel safe knowing how far gone you are over Ivy’s kitchen help. You look like a lovestruck goat. There are so many local girls who’d suit you better.”
“You’re wrong, Mrs. Boxton,” he said, completely unfazed. “And I bet Mr. Boxton still looks at you exactly the same way.”
Gertrude’s mouth snapped shut and stayed that way until the SUV disappeared down the lane in a cloud of dust.
Chapter Five
Edna refused repeated offers of her medicinal vodka, barely touched her dinner and didn’t lift a spoon to slice through the ornate letter E on the crème brûlée made with eggs from her very own hens. The scorching shame heaped on her over a simple perm seemed to have diminished her in ways that being accused of colluding with a murderer hadn’t. Being nearly a pariah among her peers had clearly taken more of a toll than her rabbit pelts suggested.
I wasn’t terribly surprised when she told me she wanted to go home. The conversation over dinner had been light, fast and full of mostly harmless gossip. My head ached from the speed of the overlapping—if orderly—voices. Initially I assumed they just wanted to get to their evening game, but then I noticed that while Annamae was permitted to speak, whenever Edna tried to pipe in, she was summarily shut down. As the host, I tried to draw Edna out and was summarily shut down as well. Keats sat like a black-and-white statue by my side, directing his blue eye warily around the room. His ruff rose and settled with the waves of hostility. They were just as palpable to me.
“You’re sure?” I asked, hauling Edna’s suitcase down the stairs and over to Buttercup.
“Yes, I’m sure. I told you I didn’t like being away from home.”
“You also told me you wanted to be here supervising my every move.”
“Supervising you is tiring,” she said, letting me open the door for her. “You make so many gaffes. And getting waited on loses its appeal rather quickly.”
I rolled my eyes as I put the suitcase in the back seat and then walked around the old sedan. I let Keats in on the other side, and then slid behind the wheel. Everything was adjusted for my tall brother, so I had to find the lever and then fiddle with the mirrors as well. “Okay, old girl,” I said. “Ready for take off.”
“Don’t you dare call me that.” Edna’s voice was all sharp edges.
I glanced over at her. “Lighten up. I was speaking to Buttercup.”
She fussed for a moment with her rabbit wrap. “The way you carried on, it was like preparing for an expedition to Mars.”
“We just completed a strange mission,” I said, piloting the big yellow car down the dim driveway. It got dark so early now. Even with our early dinner, night would fall over the farm like a black drop cloth very soon. “What was with those ladies? I told Jilly to spike their breakfast with some cannabis.”
“You didn’t!” Edna was scandalized. “That would completely throw off their game.”
“But they’d be happier. And nicer.”
“Bridge isn’t about being happy and nice,” Edna said. “It’s about cutthroat cunning.”
“Apparently. I don’t often feel sorry for my mother, but today they left her in tatters.”
“She’s wise to wear red if she’s going to bait the Bridge Buddies,” Edna said. “Hides the blood.”
I laughed, glad she seemed to be perking up a bit. “They were hard on you, too. Seems like they made an awfully big deal about a hair appointment.”
She turned on me with the swiftness of a viper. “What do you know? My mistake probably caused Annamae to lose her competitive edge. She paid a lot for that partner, and now she won’t get the lift she deserves.”
“I think you’re being a little hard on yourself,” I said, turning onto the highway.
“And I think you should be a little harder on yourself. How can you improve if you let yourself off the hook all the time? Or worse, let Kellan Harper get you off the hook.”
I drew a deep breath in through my nose. “I hope no one’s dropped by with another bag of nails. It’s tough getting new tires for vintage cars.”
“This thing is ridiculous,” Edna said. “It’s going to break down all over town, just like it did on your mother. She was always playing the helpless female and getting men to repair it. It’s important to be self-sufficient in life. I never took a dollar I didn’t earn.”
I let the arrow fly. My mom currently allowed the six of us to subsidize her rent and other needs. No matter how hard she tried—and she probably hadn’t tried that hard—she couldn’t hold down a job for long. There was no regular income, other than what we pitched in. I had covered her rent for years, and my siblings did what they could. At least mom knew how to squeeze a penny till it squeaked.
“It is good to be self-sufficient,” I said, to mollify her. “You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished.”
“I am. Did you know that I can shoot a crossbow? And light a fire without matches?”
“Really? That’s impressive. You’re all set for the zombie apocalypse.”
“Laugh all you like, but if that happens, they’ll come for people like you first.” She leaned forward and stared at the road, likely looking for nails. “You can’t even drive your own vehicle. Instead you took mommy’s handout.”
Another deep breath. Two. Three. The Bridge Biddies had slung a lot of manure and now it was rolling downhill.
“Did your folks teach you how to fend for yourself in the wilderness?” I asked.
She sniffed a negative. “I taught myself everything I know. Nothing was given to me. Ever. Unlike you, swanning in here on a magic carpet unfurled by Hannah Pemberton.”
“I have been lucky,” I said. “At least lately. But I intend to work hard and contribute fully to this community, Miss Evans. And before you know it, I’ll be delivering your crème brûlée in my truck again. This is just to tide me over till I can get a few private lessons. I’m good at a lot of things, but driving stick isn’t one of them.”
I used to think my strongest superpower was managing people, but today I’d been thoroughly rousted by the Bridge Buddies and Edna. Maybe I’d be better off leaving the inn in Jilly’s charge and sticking to managing the livestock. Most of them cooperated with me. Or at least the long arm of my law, in the form of Keats.
Pulling up in front of Edna’s darkened house, I turned off the car and reached for my door handle.
“Don’t bother,” she said. “I can handle my own luggage. Ride your golden goose back to the farm and leave me in peace.”
There was a little whine behind me as Keats tried to seal my lips, but a few hot ones came steaming out. “Wow, you’re outdoing yourself tonight, Miss Evans. I know getting treated like crap by your friends stung, but stinging everyone else won’t make you feel better.”
She got out quite easily and bent to look back in. “That’s where you’re wrong. I feel better already.”
“All right then. You enjoy that crème brûlée. Hope it sweetens you up a little before I come back in the morning.”
Setting the treat on the porch stair, she came back to collect her suitcase. “Back off,” she barked at Keats. “You’re not a person, you know. No matter what goes on between you two wack jobs.”
I turned in time to see Keats flinch away from her energy. We both wanted to curl up like hedg
ehogs.
“Night,” I said. “I’ll be here by eight to grab you in time for breakfast.”
“Make it seven thirty,” she said, struggling to pull out her suitcase. Once it was on the ground, she slammed the back door and prepared to do the same with the front. “I’ve got news for you, Ivy Galloway.” She pinned me with her intense, small eyes that looked like black holes. “No matter how long you’re here or how much you contribute, you will never belong. So get used to standing on your own.”
“Will do,” I said, offering a salute. “Can I borrow your crossbow?”
She slammed the door so hard Buttercup rattled and Keats unleashed an unearthly howl.
“It’s okay, buddy,” I said as he slid between the seats and sat beside me. I turned the key and then ran my hand over his sleek fur again and again. “Hurt people hurt people. So we need to cut them some slack.” Putting the car in gear, I headed back down the lane. “But after this weekend, Edna can cook her own darn meals until she grows some manners.”
The next morning, Buttercup refused to turn over. I got out of the bright yellow car and paced for a moment with Keats, before deciding to make the journey to Edna’s in the golf cart Hannah had used before she mastered standard transmission. It had its own shed beside the barn, not far from the henhouse.
“If it was good enough for Hannah, it’s good enough for me,” I told Keats as we headed around to get the cart.
That way I’d head off Edna’s snarky comments about being stalled in perpetual adolescence. On top of that, I could see any nails in the road more easily and avoid getting Fred out from town so early.
“It’s going to be a good day,” I told Keats as he hopped in beside me, tongue lolling. He loved the golf cart because he could catch every last whiff of whatever smelled good to a sheepdog, which was pretty much anything. His head tipped back as we whipped down the lane and he dug in his claws as I swerved to miss the potholes. “I’m going to hit every one on the way back, though. Consider yourself warned.”
Edna deserved a very bumpy ride after her comments the night before. To make sure of it, I took the side trails through the bushes to seek out the worst possible ride. My own head was pounding when I pulled out of the bush practically at Edna’s doorstep.
I’d expected to find her on the porch tapping her watch, but she was still inside. Keats and I ran up the stairs. I knocked twice and then opened the door and called, “Your chariot awaits, Miss Evans. I hope you had a great night’s sleep and are ready for round two with your Bridge Buddies.”
There was no answer so we stepped into the front hall. “Miss Evans? Yoo-hoo!” And then just, “Edna?”
Silence. For a chilling moment I wondered if she’d done something drastic, but then shook off the worry. Like Edna had said herself, she was like a cockroach. Tough and resilient. This morning she’d be fresh and ready to kick some biddy butt.
I walked through the small house, poking my head into each of the two bedrooms. Both exploded with floral fabric, similar to the living room upholstery. The master had a canopy and a row of dolls lounging against the pillows. Their eyes seemed to follow me when I walked through to check the en suite.
Keats looked up at them and whined.
“I know. Creepy, right?”
After that, we went to the kitchen. My footsteps were quicker now as I started to worry again. Had Edna fallen? Was she in the basement under a bookcase? Or in the yard stuck in a gopher hole with a broken leg?
I should have brought the truck after all. How was I going to get her out of here in a golf cart?
Keats turned up his blue eye and mumbled.
“Right,” I said. “I’d call 911, of course. Transportation is their problem. Discovery is mine.”
My heart was racing by the time we walked across the worn linoleum to the kitchen sink. There was a coffee cup still half full sitting on the counter and an empty crème brûlée dish in the sink.
“Well, at least she sweetened herself up,” I said, reaching for the coffee mug. It was lukewarm to the touch—maybe half an hour old, given how warm the house was. You could grow orchids in here.
“Looks like the wicked witch decided to take her broom, buddy,” I said. “Maybe when bridge is done for the day they can do an aerial show. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
I laughed at my jokes but Keats didn’t join in with his usual wide-mouthed grin. Instead, his muzzle turned left and right and his tail drifted slowly down.
“Okay, let’s check the basement and yard before we head back. Honestly, if she’s hoofing it and wasting my time, I’m going to be annoyed. She doesn’t even have a cell so that I can call her.”
Keats did a cursory circuit before leading me back to the golf cart. He knew Edna wasn’t down for the count nearby and I trusted him.
“I’ll catch up with her on the road, I bet.” I pressed the pedal hard till I remembered the nails and slowed down. The cart could hit 30 miles per hour and it really did feel like a magic carpet on the gravel after the bumpy shortcut over.
I figured Edna must have gotten a good head start—or headed onto one of the many side trails herself—because there was no sign of her. We rounded the curve that hid the marshy waterhole from view. That’s how we happened to be so close when I finally saw Edna’s black Mary Janes.
They weren’t kicking up dust as she strode toward the farm. Instead, they were splayed in a most unladylike pose as she lay face down, practically submerged in Wilma’s pig pool.
Chapter Six
“Jilly, it’s me.” I paced up and down the lane with the phone to my ear as Keats did his due diligence.
“I don’t need Keats’ psychic abilities to know that,” she said, over the clatter of pots. “Call display does the trick. What’s taking you so long?”
“Edna’s been… detained.”
“Detained? She wanted to be here early to lord her hosting prowess over the breakfast table.”
“Yes, well, she got a head start, no doubt to do just that. But then she was…”
“Detained?” Jilly supplied.
“Yes, detained. Permanently.”
The clatter stopped abruptly and all I could hear was Jilly breathing hard as she absorbed my meaning, denied it briefly and then forged on. “Are you saying she…”
Her voice trailed off.
“Flew the coop. Gained her heavenly wings.” I sighed. “Yes. Even if it looks quite the opposite from here.”
“Where exactly is ‘here’? Are you in her house?”
“No. She was on her way before I even got here but she was apparently rudely interrupted by the pig pool. You know, the marshy spot where Wilma rolled me.”
“Rudely interrupted?” I could tell Jilly was breathing in through her nose and trying to puff out her diaphragm, to ward off either hysteria or hysterical laughter. “Who interrupted her?”
“I think it may have been a ‘what,’” I said. “That’s what I need you to find out. Can you run down to the barn for me? Without letting any of the Bridge Buddies know something is amiss?”
“Of course.” I heard the back door slam. “Half of them are still in bed and the other half are playing a warm up hand.” She puffed slightly as she took the word “run” literally. “What am I looking for?”
“Just do a quick circuit and tell me if any of the critters are missing. Charlie will be in by nine, so all I did was take care of the chickens before heading over. I didn’t even poke my head into the barn for fear of getting everyone going.”
She counted off the animals as she went. “Alpaca, present. Two llamas, check and check. Two donkeys accounted for.”
“So far, so good. Cows?”
“I’m inside the barn now. Heidi and Clara are peacefully chewing hay and Archie is just being adorable.” There was a pause as she counted. “Six sheep in their pen. Eight goats in theirs. Florence just nipped my shoulder. Thanks for that, sweetheart.” Another long pause followed and then, “Oh no.”
I let out the breath
it had felt like I’d been holding since I saw the prints in the silty mud beside the marsh. “Wilma?”
“Gone.” The word was a grunt, as if she had bent over. “The lock’s broken.”
“Broken… or snapped?”
“Snapped. It looks like someone let her out deliberately. Are you saying she ran into Edna and took her down?”
“Can’t tell for sure. All I know is that there are signs Wilma visited her favorite watering hole and that Edna is here now, too. Alone.”
“Was she… was she maimed?”
“No, just drowned.” I shook my head. “As if ‘just drowned’ is any better. Wilma is quite capable of a simple death roll, as you know.”
“Edna probably aggravated her. She was as mean as a sow to you last night.”
“True, but that doesn’t mean my sow gets to drown her.”
“I know. It’s just that…”
“The crap is going to hit my reputation. Again. Silly city slicker Ivy Galloway can’t keep her rescue animals locked down.” I pressed my free hand against my forehead. “The Bridge Buddies are going to have a field day. They’re the most influential women in town.”
“Well, we don’t know exactly what happened yet,” Jilly said. “Maybe Edna had a heart attack in the wrong place. She was certainly stressed enough yesterday. You’ve called Kellan?”
“Yes. I called him first this time. Aren’t you proud?”
“I am. Love really can accomplish miracles.”
Heat rose in my cheeks. “This is professional.”
“Oh, I know. And unfortunately Chief Hottie might find it hard to remember he loves you back for a while. But this too shall pass, Ivy. We’ll get through it together.”
“I hope so.” The words came out like a shaky sigh. “Are you going to distract the guests with your magic mimosas?”
