by Ellen Riggs
“Well, Officer Blade,” I said. “It’s my duty to protect all the rescue animals on this farm, and I take it very seriously. I’m sure your discussions with Senna and the police down in the barn will give you enough confidence to stand down. The chief said the investigation could take days.”
Tess shrugged. “I’ll talk to the chief, of course. Just know that my job is to protect people from dangerous animals, and I also take it very seriously.”
Kellan shook his head as we ducked under the yellow tape and came into the barn. “Ladies. Do I really need to explain the meaning of that tape?”
“Chief Harper,” I said. “This is my vet, Senna York, who just examined the cows.” Then I nodded toward Tess. “And this is Tess Blade, the new dogcatcher. She prefers to be called Officer.”
I thought Tess might be embarrassed, but she was scanning the barn, unfazed. “Where exactly did the cows murder the man?”
Kellan frowned. “Officer Blade, we haven’t concluded that’s what happened. Perhaps you’ll let the police department do its work.”
“I can seize those cows now and send them for slaughter, Officer Harper,” she said. “If they’re a threat to public safety.”
“Chief Harper,” he said, glancing at me. “You’re new, Officer Blade, and I understand you need time to get the lay of the land in Clover Grove. How about I give your director a call and we can discuss due process?”
Officer Blade shrugged. “Knock yourself out, Chief.”
While they distracted each other, I looked around, musing. What had Keats been doing when Wilf came down here in the middle of the night and decided to get adventurous? Why hadn’t the dog come up to the house to get me? Or at least barked his fool head off? I may not have heard it but the guests at the front of the house would have. There was no way my hypervigilant pup would just stand by while someone hassled his cows. Wilf’s unsupervised presence threatened the livestock Keats considered his property and responsibility.
“Check Wilf’s calves,” I said.
“Calves?” Asher asked, joining us. “Wilf had cattle? And why would we check them?”
Senna laughed and I couldn’t help smiling, too. “His legs, Asher. As far as I know, Keats was here when Wilf barged in drunk. There’s a chance the dog nipped Wilf to keep him away from the livestock.”
Officer Blade crossed her arms. “So you’re saying your dog bites people whenever he feels like it?”
Senna raised her hand. “This would have constituted a threat to his livestock. He wouldn’t be a proper farm dog if he didn’t protect them.”
“I heard he’s attacked humans and shredded earlobes,” Officer Blade said.
“When he was protecting me,” I said, crossing my arms and shivering. “From murderers. I wouldn’t be here without Keats, in fact.”
Kellan stepped into Tess’ space, forcing her to back up. “This discussion is beyond the scope of your current investigation, Officer Blade. There’s no reason to bring up past trauma.”
I gave him a grateful look, which he missed because Tess took a step to close the space again.
“Chief Harper, we both know my predecessor passed away right here on this property. I have every right to ask questions.”
“That had nothing to do with my farm,” I said. “It’s not my fault a crazed murderer chose to end Lloyd’s life here.”
Tess gave another shrug of her broad shoulders. “Either way, you and your farm and especially your dog are on the County watch list. You already were, before your cows attacked.”
My hands went to my hips. “On the watch list? How dare you!”
Senna stepped in front of me. “Ivy, let’s stay calm. I’m sure the County is doing its due diligence. This is an inn, after all, where guests are staying. They have to be cautious.”
“Exactly,” Officer Blade said. “I’m just trying to keep people safe. There’s a lot going on at Runaway Farm that raises concerns about public safety.”
Sweeping my arm around at Kellan’s staff, I said, “There’s practically an army here to make sure everyone’s safe.”
Senna chimed in. “I’m here to attest to the health and character of the animals, and the police can attest to the character of the owner.”
Officer Blade kept on firing. “From what I’ve heard, she may have offed her old boss. Or gotten her mother to do it. They had a grudge against the deceased. Everyone knows that.”
“Hey,” Asher said. “You’re out of line, Officer Tess. Way out of line.”
I closed my eyes and literally bit my tongue to stop it from spilling words I’d regret later. As always, the Clover Grove grapevine had churned out the story with lightning speed. Good news never travelled that fast.
“Asher, quiet,” Kellan said. “But he’s right that you’re overstepping, Officer Blade. I’ll thank you to reserve judgment and let me conduct my own investigation. Ms. Galloway and her mother will be questioned appropriately.”
My stomach sent a little geyser of coffee back up my throat. I had no doubt I could clear my own name but my mom was as tough to manage as Wilma, the sly sow. It’s something she and Wilf had in common, although she wouldn’t thank me to hear it.
“Fine,” Officer Blade said. “I’ll stick to my area of expertise, which is problem animals. Obviously, this dog was loose in the barn at the time of the incident. I want to know what he was doing. No way a dog this bossy would just stand by.”
“Bossy?” I said. “You don’t even know Keats.”
She gestured to Keats and I noticed for the first time that he was subtly herding me backward without my even noticing. “Yeah, bossy,” she said. “He’s taking you somewhere right now. Who’s the leader in this equation?”
“It’s a partnership,” I said. “And if he’s taking me somewhere, he has a good reason for it. I trust him implicitly, Officer Blade.”
Turning, I followed Keats to a stall that had long ago belonged to a horse that died of old age. Unlike the other pens, the two horse stalls had split doors and grates with metal bars in the top half. Today, the top half was closed and the bottom slightly ajar. To my knowledge, Charlie only used it to store equipment and I’d never seen either half closed.
I ducked under the top half without waiting to open it. Inside, half a dozen wieners lay on the floor covered in flies. Keats followed me inside, and if a dog’s lip could curl in disgust, his would have.
Kneeling, I tugged the door closed with one finger and stared at it from a dog’s point of view. There were grooves in the wood all the way to the top half. Claw marks. Bloody claw marks, in fact, that focused around the inside latch.
“Keats, shake,” I said, holding out my hand. He offered one snowy paw and I examined it. Two broken nails and pads caked in dried blood. The other paw was about the same. “Aw, buddy, I’m so sorry I didn’t notice earlier. You tried so hard to protect your herd.”
I called for Senna and she knelt outside the stall to examine Keats fully. She’d barely finished when Kellan and Officer Blade came over. He unlatched the upper half of the door and stared down at me. “Ivy, what are you doing? You know better than to crawl all over a crime scene.”
“Keats wanted me to see where he was locked up last night.” I gestured to the wieners. “These were clearly meant to decoy him. As if that would distract a sheepdog from an attack on his charges. I highly doubt Wilf was coherent enough to find wieners in my freezer and coordinate something like that, Kellan. There had to be someone else in here last night.”
“You’ll test the wieners, right?” Senna asked. “In case they’re poisoned?”
I flopped abruptly onto my butt. “I don’t believe any of my former colleagues would do that. Some of them had grievances against Wilf, but they wouldn’t make a dog collateral damage.”
Kellan shook his head at me. “Ivy, we’ve discussed this before. Someone capable of murder probably doesn’t have the compassion for animals you seem to expect.”
I sighed. “I know. I still don’t wa
nt to believe anyone would deliberately harm an animal. Not that I want to believe they’d hurt other people, but animals are different. Innocent. Pure of heart.”
Officer Blade cleared her throat. “I see lots of animals who are far from pure-hearted. My job is to dispose of them.”
“Well, my cows are pure-hearted,” I said. “Heidi adopted a calf that isn’t hers yesterday. That sounds pretty sweet to me. And Keats hurt himself trying to get out of here and protect his herd.”
“He’s a good dog,” Senna said, standing to face Tess. She was much shorter than the brawny redhead, but she had presence. “The County can leave the farm in my care right now. I’ll come out daily and check on the animals. If I see any issues at all, I will report them immediately, as is my duty. My reputation rides on my integrity.”
Tess stared at Keats for a long moment before finally nodding. “Okay. But the cows and the dog stay on the watch list until this is resolved and Runaway Farm is cleared of murder. Again.”
The “again” hit me like a kick to the gut. How could this happen? One murder you could see as an accident, but not two. Why, after 10 years of boring corporate life, was I attracting death like these wieners attracted sleepy, late-season flies?
Kellan waved as if dispersing the flies. “Folks, I need you to clear the crime scene. It’s already been contaminated by too many people.”
“As if a barn can ever be pristine,” I said, hanging back as the vet and dogcatcher left the barn.
“True enough,” he said, sighing. “My people are working as fast as they can so that you can get the animals back inside tonight. Can you try to stay out of the way, Ivy?”
“Of course,” I said. “You know I have a full house right now. I’m going to be super busy distracting my guests.”
My tone must have been less convincing than my actual words, because he said, “I mean it. Stay out of this.”
“I hear you, Kellan.” I made sure my tone was light. “Relax.”
He glared at me. “I’m not here to relax. And I can’t do my job properly if I’m chasing you around. You’re as nosy as your hound.”
“As much as I love being compared to my amazing dog, you must know I was just trying to help the last time.”
“I don’t need help to find a murderer.”
“But I know the Flordale people. I hired some of them and we practically went through war together. I really can help, Kellan.”
“You’ll get your chance to tell me all about the corporate battles, trust me. But interrupting due process will only slow me down. Would you like to hear how many bodies I’ve discovered in my career? How many murder cases I’ve solved?”
“Not really, no.”
He stared at me, all fierce blue eyes and squared-off jaw. He’d been a cute teen and now he was a stunning man. I really should have tried harder to heal that old rift back in college. Then we wouldn’t need to dance around each other like two spirited alpacas.
I couldn’t help grinning. Kellan would hate being compared to an alpaca, since he wasn’t a fan of animals or farms.
“I really don’t see anything to smile about right now,” he said.
“You’re right,” I said, leaving the stall. My arm brushed his as I passed. A traitorous tingle roared up my arm and made my heart skip like a baby goat again. My brain knew well that this farm-hater was totally wrong for me, but apparently my nervous system had a different opinion. “But I think you’re going to regret not letting Keats and me give you a hand.”
“Oh, I won’t regret it at all, I’m quite sure of that.” He walked behind me, herding me now like Keats did. “I don’t want to worry about you. Maybe you and Keats won’t be so lucky if you throw yourself in the path of danger again. You two pushed your luck far enough.”
“You’re right about that, I guess.”
“I don’t guess, I know. Just trust me to do my job.”
I did trust him. It was the nest of vipers inside my house I had doubts about. I couldn’t stand by and let one of them put Jilly or my family at risk. Not to mention my growing menagerie. I intended to do whatever I could to protect them from harm.
I’d just have to be smarter about it this time.
Chapter Nine
Mom had insisted that Poppy take her home for a quick change of clothes before our family meeting at Daisy’s. Now she was perched on a too-tall stool at Daisy’s immaculate kitchen counter with the heels of her black patent pumps clattering against the metal bar she couldn’t reach. As always, she saw herself as larger in her own mind than she actually was, even though she constantly had to alter oversized clothing to fit her petite frame. Sewing was one of her talents, but it wasn’t a marketable one in Clover Grove, where many homesteaders knew their way around a pattern and quilting clubs abounded. The black wool dress she was wearing now was immaculately fitted, however, and I had to give her credit.
“What’s with the funereal look?” Iris asked, leaning on the counter across from Mom.
“Iris, respect,” Mom said. “A man died today. The least I can do is dress appropriately.”
“After threatening him last night?” Iris said, shaking her head. Like all of the Galloway girls, she had brown hair and hazel eyes. The differences between us were subtle enough that people often confused us. Iris had soft waves in her hair and a scattering of freckles on her pale skin. Violet had curlier hair that she was always trying to tame. Otherwise they could probably pass for Poppy, at least in Poppy’s natural state. As the wild child of the family, Poppy had tried every possible hair color over the years, and had more piercings than the rest of us combined. I couldn’t really blame her for wanting to stand out, although I’d always preferred to blend in.
“Don’t be silly,” Mom said. “I was defending my daughter, and no one with half a brain could take what I said seriously.” She turned to glare at me. “Does your old boyfriend have half a brain, Ivy?”
“I’ll answer that question,” Asher said, pushing off the stainless steel fridge he’d been slouching against. “Kellan Harper didn’t get the job as chief of police without being brilliant, Mom.” He tossed her a grin and added, “Respect, please.”
“Respect is earned,” she said. “Shouldn’t you be over at the farm making sure he finds the killer quickly?”
Mom had all the strength in the world to resist her daughters but one grin from Asher normally melted her into a puddle of maternal doting. Her ability to withstand his charm today told me that something was off with her.
Daisy moved in behind Asher and sprayed down the stainless steel. Then she wiped it with a special cloth. Her flair for interior design meant the house was lovely but keeping it that way was a full-time job with a husband and two sets of teenage twins. The boys—especially the younger ones—took delight in leaving smudges for my clean freak sister to polish away. She was up to the task because she’d been polishing away our family’s imperfections all her life. Today was just the next in a long string.
“Mom, I agree that Asher shouldn’t stay long,” she said. “We just thought it would be good to have a chat about what’s happened.” Her hand kept buffing the fridge as she glanced over her shoulder at Mom. “You know, get everyone on the same page.”
Mom took a long sip from a white china mug filled with herbal tea. There were overlapping lipstick prints on the rim. “Good idea. We need to establish a united front behind Ivy.”
“Exactly,” Daisy said, leaving the fridge and trying to take Mom’s mug. Lipstick stains stressed her out so much that she had a special black mug for Mom. But Poppy had poured the tea and probably chose the white one just to rattle Daisy. That’s how things went in our family. “The best way to establish that united front is to get you cleared as a suspect in this man’s murder right away.”
Mom held onto her mug and Daisy didn’t risk spilling the tea. “Me? That’s ridiculous, Daisy. Iris was joking.”
“Not joking,” Iris chimed in, as she came around and joined Violet and me at the kitchen
table. Generally she took a back seat in family politics. She was typically the quietest, perpetually overshadowed by Daisy the responsible sister, Violet the popular cheerleader, and crazy Poppy who came next in line. And of course we were all eclipsed by charismatic Asher.
“No one could possibly believe I clubbed that big man to death in Ivy’s barn in the middle of the night,” Mom said. She waved a manicured hand from her head to her heels. “I’m a delicate flower.”
“Untrue,” Poppy said. “Dahlias are a hearty species. I have no doubt you could take someone out with the right weapon.”
“What was the weapon?” Mom asked, deftly changing the subject.
“Unknown,” Asher said. “The autopsy will tell us more.”
Spritzing vinegar cleanser on the counter, Daisy gave it a wipe. It was so routine that she could continue to pin Mom with the look that withered most people. “Let’s not drag this out, Mom,” she said. “We need to know where you were last night.”
“Poppy dropped me at my apartment around eight thirty,” Mom said, planting a lipstick print on the opposite side of the mug. A provocative move. “What is this? An intervention?”
Daisy squinted at Mom before turning a pointed glance on Asher. He stepped forward and straightened his shoulders. He was six foot two and broad-shouldered, which made him quite imposing in his uniform, at least from the neck down. His perpetual smile tended to undercut that impression.
“Mom, come on,” he said, dialling up the smile wattage and throwing in a dimple. “We all know you had nothing to do with Wilf Darby’s death, but witnesses overheard your threat and you’ll need to be questioned. We want to help you prepare so you don’t get flustered.”
Leaning against the back of the stool, Mom crossed her legs. It wasn’t as elegant or nonchalant as she might have liked because her other foot dangled. “I don’t get flustered, Asher. Especially not in front of the man who crushed my daughter’s heart to smithereens and broke her spirt.”
