Criminally Spun Out: Book 5 of the Fiber Maven's Mysteries

by J. Traveler Pelton

  Brad watched him go and then turned to his car. “I got the feeling, Rutherford, some boys are going to have a hard time sitting down tonight. Odd how their stories don't match. They all agreed they shot off the fireworks, but not how they got them in the first place. Wonder why Zeke would lie about it, unless he knows the old lady in question. Just being heedless and foolish, I guess. Good thing the barn wasn’t a total loss. Let’s get home. Casey will be wondering where we are.”

  Chapter 4

  Toby pushed back his chair and sighed. “You know, you ladies do all of this so much better than I do. You sure you want me helping?”

  Helen laughed. “Oh, you aren’t going to get out of it that easily,” she said. “It’s your wedding too.”

  “But everything I suggest gets vetoed.”

  “Not everything. You wanted a November wedding and we’ve got a date for that.”

  “But you don’t like the idea of orange and yellow tablecloths and dying the cookies to match them.”

  “We aren’t having cookies, one, I hate orange, two, and where in the world did you ever come up with that idea of the food matching the tablecloths?”

  “Well, it looked good on you tube. I remember it being like mint green and pink and I don’t like pink, so why not fall colors?”

  Marti Clamons, his sister-in-law, Toby’s wife-to-be Helen, Jane Long from the Getaway Café, and the pastor’s wife Sally were making wedding plans. Helen, being the organized person she was, had set up the wedding/reception committee to help her, and, so far things were working out pretty well. They had gotten the church date set up, the pastor set up, the musicians set up, and were now going into the sorts of details that generally drive men bats.

  “Ok, so we are having the cake made by Hannah, Matthew Armstrong is the best man, and Troy, Kevin, and Dave are the groomsmen. Marti is Matron of Honor, and Annie, Megan, and Sharon are bridesmaids. Troy’s little girl Betsy is flower girl and Billy is ringbearer. The wedding colors are going to be burgundy and gold. We’re going to use those pretty lights the church already has, and that adorable arbor and the candelabra, with the little kerosene lanterns in the windows, and Millie over at the flower shop is doing the flowers. Have the men got their tuxes lined up?” asked the bride.

  “With burgundy cummerbunds,” replied Toby. “Ricci is going to do the reception dinner catering and the rehearsal dinner is going to be at the Cafe. We’re covered for food, place, clothes, and personnel. Can’t be much more, right?”

  “We have the invitations left to mail. I and my friends got them all addressed and wondered if you could take them to the post office tomorrow and send them out. Oh, and that photographer from Millersburg has the date clear and is coming for pictures.”

  “Sure, I can mail them. How many are we inviting?” he asked as he eyed the stacks of envelopes. “In fact, why don’t I run over now to mail them? Why are they rubber banded together?”

  “I organized them into invitations for here in town, in the county, in the state, and then out of state. We’re inviting just a little over 300, but I don’t think they’ll all come.”

  “If we do, is there enough room?”

  “I included info on the local bed and breakfasts if they want to stay over for the out of staters, and the sanctuary seats five hundred. Oh, and I arranged for the nursery to be manned so we ought not have any crying infants.”

  Toby sighed as he loaded up the card box with the prepared envelopes and stood up. “What else needs done?”

  “Right now, we just let this stuff all percolate; we allow everyone to do their parts and the bridesmaids and bride go for dress fittings. I suggest you keep me posted,” replied Sally. “It’s going to be lovely. Have you decided where you’re going on honeymoon?”

  “He has but he won’t tell me,” exclaimed Helen, playfully hitting her fiancé in the shoulder. “But my son Sky is going to be with his grandpa for a week.”

  “You’ll like where we go. It’s pretty there.”

  “I suspect it is. Thank you, everyone, for meeting with us.”

  “No worries.” said Sally as she gave Helen a hug. “You and John have your last prenuptial session next Wednesday at 6, don’t forget. Then six more weeks and it’s wedding bells for you guys!”

  Sally led them out of the side door of the parsonage to their waiting cars. She waved as they left and went inside to her own chores. “I so do love weddings,” she mused as she worked on the laundry. “All that hope and all those dreams all tied into a bundle and settled on the couple’s hearts. I hope they stay tied tight their whole lives.”

  Chapter Five

  Alan stood up and stretched. He went over and gave his mom, Allyssa, hug. “Meeting the new vet today, Mom. She’s meeting me over at the old Malec place out on Painter Road. The new owner has fixed it up and she has a load of animals coming today and wants a vet on hand to be sure they’re all healthy as we unload them. I have no idea how long I’ll be or what I’m doing but it’s going to be fun.” He grinned at his mom. “I’m really glad to get this summer internship with the vet. It will help me get into vet school.”

  “Well, finishing your freshman year of college in high school helped, and being able to get the next two years credits in by working hard put you up ahead of the other guys applying for space in the program. Your grades are great and you deserve some fun time off. You went four full quarters in a row and I’m glad this summer you’re doing some hands on.”

  “I’m going to enjoy working with the new vet. She does both large and small animals and even some exotics.” He chugged down a glass of milk. “I really look forward to the exotics.”

  His mom stood still a moment as if in thought. “You said Painter Road? Our new spinning instructor bought the old farm on Painter Road. You’ll get to meet her animals before I do.”

  “Any idea what?” he asked as he snagged a banana and peeled it.

  “She said alpaca, some sort of small cow, sheep, rabbits, and … canaries, was it? I think so. Lots of canaries.”

  “No snakes or lizards? That’s probably good. I’ve done some reading on the cows and sheep so I might be able to keep up a little.”

  “Best be on your way. You don’t want to be late.”

  Taking the last bite of banana, Alan Martin headed out to his little Nissan truck. He’d earned the money for it himself; it was paid for and it ran reliably, although his dad thought it was held together more with bumper stickers and duct tape than metal. He’d replaced the seats, fixed the hole in the floor with metal he soldered in place, and covered the floor with rugs. The back had always had a cover on it, so the truck bed was good, and the new tires he’d just put on had set him back a little but he ought not have trouble driving to and from school this winter. Last winter had been a caution with those old tires. He planned on driving this truck until he graduated and one year after he got his practice up and running; then he’d buy a truck for his practice.

  Alan was a cautious man about debt; he was careful and he hoped to leave school with little to none. He leaned back and drove out consistently smaller roads, heading out for Painter. The early summer scenery went by pretty much unheeded as he considered what the new vet might want of him. Probably muscle, he thought to himself. Good thing I keep in shape.

  He pulled into the long drive and noted with approval the new fence that had replaced the old trampled one around the front fields. Looked like they’d replaced the house siding and some windows, and the barn was repaired and neatly painted white with black trim. It looked cared-for now, like a real home farm, like the one he’d dreamed about having for himself since he was a kid. All it needed was a good farm dog, a border collie or a Pyrenees. He made his way up the long drive and parked beside the vet’s blue truck, which had a sign emblazoned on the side.

  Amanda Zoland, DVM.

  Pleasant Valley Vet Clinic, Carter Street

  777-234-2368

  Visit our webpage at Pleasant Valley AZ

  or email us
AtoZ@gmail.com

  He nodded. Nicely businesslike. Carter Street, so she must have bought out the old vet who retired a year ago.

  Amanda walked around the other side of the truck and over to him. “We’re waiting for the truck to arrive; I’ve checked the cages and enclosures and she has a top-notch set-up here. I’m Dr. Zoland. You must be Alan?”

  “Yes, ma’am. All ready to get started. What do you want me to do?”

  “Here, you’re a little big, but I think this will cover your clothes. For the future, you might want to get some of those coveralls they sell at the Farmer’s Exchange or TSC. What we do can get dirty. You might not care, but unless you do your own laundry, I’m betting your mom will.” She handed him a plain blue vet coat. It seemed to fit perfectly as he put it over his dark blue pocket tee and jeans.

  “Are your hiking boots steel toed?” she inquired. “Might want to look into that as well. You haven’t lived until a bull steps on your foot.”

  “I’ll do that. Are there any bulls today?”

  “One bull, one male sheep, a couple male alpaca, a couple gelded llamas and, if I understood her right on the phone, a camel or two.”

  “Camels?”

  “I may be wrong on that last one. Might be goats. Last vet’s records were handwritten and pretty poor. She has all their vet records and faxed me records, let’s see.” She rummaged through her phone. “We’re going to unload them one at a time, update shots, give them a booster, check their temps, be sure they’re thrifty, you know, no outward signs of bad health or possible problems, and then lead them to their places. Owner will be helping, and her mom. You’re going into your senior undergrad?”

  “Yes, ma’am and I’m sending in apps to five vet schools in January.”

  “Grades good?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And I’m not old enough to be a ma’am, call me Dr. Zoland in front of clients, and Amanda when they aren’t around. You going to try for OSU and Toledo?”

  “And Findlay, Otterbein, and Kent. One of them has to like me.”

  She laughed. “You’ll get some love, don’t worry. Make sure you’ve got some experience – which if you stick with it this summer and next, you will – and good references and the financial aid lined up, and you’ll do fine. Looks like the truck’s coming.”

  “Where did you attend?” he asked as they watched the large stock truck pulling up to the barn area. The driver turned it around, then backed up to the barn.

  “OSU. Great place to go to school, but I’d not live there if they paid me. I don’t like city much. I do go over to the Zoo and assist sometimes. Specialty for that is birds. My secondary specialty is avian.”

  “Did you see her canaries?”

  “Every blessed one of them – they’re amazing. Remind me to take you up there when we’re done here. It’s going to be a long day, I’m thinking. Help me line up the crush.”

  Toby, having worked on some farms in his summers as a teen, knew the crush was a narrow cage that one animal would fit into so it could be attended to with less danger of it getting away or anyone getting hurt.

  Dana met them with her mother, both in work gear, wearing leather gloves, carrying leads. “I thought we’d unload our horses first? Sara’s sort of skittish and Rebel’s not good on ramps.”

  “Breed?” asked Amanda.

  “Both are Tennessee walkers. Mom and I like to ride.” She went up into the truck and walked down a beautiful, well-tended animal, who was snorting a little, shaking his head – his version of complaining. He balked at the top of the ramp and had to be coaxed down.

  “We won’t need the crush for them but Big Al we will.”

  “Big Al?” asked Alan.

  “He’s not all that big but thinks he is. He’s the bull.”

  Amanda handed Toby her clipboard with some instructions on what he was to write down on each animal. She carefully went over the horse, checking its legs, looking in its mouth, rewarding it with a small carrot. “He’s gorgeous. I have a Morgan but I hear Walkers are great rides.”

  “They ride like silk feels, is how my mom puts it. Both are taught to neck rein and they handle nicely. I had the men go over some of the old trails and I walked them yesterday to be sure there’s no holes or roots so we can do some trail rides.”

  “Sounds good to me,” replied the vet. “Where do we take him?”

  “I have outdoor pens set up for everyone, some temp, some permanent. Our horses, Mom and I can lead to the temporary corral. We already have hay and water set up so they can just settle. Bill, can you lead Sara down and we’ll get them both done and move on to the cattle.”

  The horses were done quickly and led away. Bill, the trucker, suggested they open the crush and stand on each side ready to clang it shut. Big Al was not in a good mood. He hated trucks. He hated ramps. He hated being away from his comfortable barn. He was full of attitude and was not going to like whatever was about to happen. He tossed his head and snorted.

  Big Al was a miniature Highland bull, about forty inches tall, around six hundred pounds, but obviously not realizing he wasn’t as big as a standard bull. He grunted as a lead was clipped to him and with a little bit of help in the form of a handful of carrot chips, trotted down the ramp and into the crush.

  Toby laughed.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Dana.

  “Well, my friend Sammy’s dad raises longhorns. When you said Big Al, I had visions of, well, nothing like this. He’s sort of cute in a mad, shaggy kinda way.”

  The vet grinned. “Yeah. I’ve seen the longhorns.”

  Dana said, “Highlands have a downy undercoat I brush out in the late spring and it spins beautifully. He’s a crazy animal, but he’s never tried to chase us or anything. He has his own little corral waiting. He gets along well with the horses.” They completed his check-up, and he was led off by Dana to his small corral next to the horses. His five females were examined and placed on the other side of the horses. The cattle were followed by baby doll southdown sheep, seven ewes and one male, each around two foot tall.

  Two tall llama geldings came out, heads nearly at seven feet, strolling in an imperial way, owning whatever they laid their eyes on. They were followed by one male alpaca who was placed with the bull, and ten female alpaca – six white, one light grey, one rose grey, one fawn colored, one black. A large dog, which they were told was an Anatolian Shepherd, followed them. He got his yearly booster shot and made friends with the vet easily after he was convinced he couldn’t sit on her feet. Several carrier pens of rabbits were carried out and into the barn where their roomy new pens waited them. Five pyagora goats came out next, all ewes, all pregnant. Lastly, a carrier with three long haired cats were carried to the house. Two barn cats were added to the barn.

  “The house cats are a Persian and two Himalayan. I raise them downstairs. They don’t go up with the birds, ever. I already have Cantor inside and you can look at him when we step in to see the house animals.” Dana watched the animals as they settled in to their paddocks.

  “Cantor?” Amanda asked.

  “He’s a Maine coon and he sings a lot.” The vet nodded as if that made perfect sense.

  Mrs. McCallister spoke up. “Don’t forget Giz.”

  “Giz?” asked Alan.

  “He’s an Amazon parrot. He talks and I use his shed feathers to make jewelry.”

  Alan shook his head. “You ought to charge admission. A few more animals and you’d have a zoo.”

  Dana laughed. “Yeah, been told that before. I used to hold yarn retreats out until too many people had allergies to cats or dogs or birds and it got all complicated. I may want to talk to your mom about that.”

  “You know mom?” he asked as he held cats for the vet to check over.

  “I knew you had to be the boy she talks so much about as soon as you drove up. She told me about the truck. I had one like it when I was in college, lo, those many moons ago,” she smiled at him and then continued. “Anyway,
the barn cats are needed for vermin control out here. And now, that’s everyone, let me pay Bill so he can leave.”

  “Got one more,” he replied.

  “What? That’s all we had at the farm.”

  “Your friend back home said you’d wanted one and since she had one, we loaded it up and I fetched it to you.” He walked up and reached over a divider wall, coming up with a grunt and carrying out the smallest burro the vet had ever seen. “She said his mom had died of milk fever and you need to bottle feed him.”

  “Oh, for goodness sake! Look at those eyes!” exclaimed Mrs. McCallister, Dana’s mom, hurrying over. “Give me that baby. Did she send us proper milk for a burro?”

  “She’s pretty heavy, why don’t you let Alan here carry her for you? And your friend sent a note and this bag of milk replacer. Here’s my invoice. We’re officially empty and I need to make it to a farm over to Millersburg to take a load back.”

  “Thank you so much, give me a sec.” Dana pulled out a checkbook from a back pocket, wrote out the check, and handed it to the trucker. “Thanks for being so patient, Bill.”

  “Just got a long drive next back home, no reason to rush it,” he answered. “You need anything hauled; you call.”

  “I will,” she smiled as he got into the truck, started it up and drove down the drive, then turned to Alan and Dr. Zoland. “And let me pay you guys, but oh, just feel how soft this little fella is. Doctor Zoland, what can we do to insure he lives? Losing his mom like that and then a long truck drive doesn’t make for a happy baby.”

  “Looks like they have the right feed,” she replied, checking the bag. “I’m going to give him a booster shot of things to raise his immune system. The thing to worry about is the scours, of course. Where are you keeping him?”

  Dana looked at the house and nodded as she decided, “I’m keeping him on the back porch. It’s easy to clean and enclosed and we’ll just make a good layer of bedding in one corner. But first, let me get a bottle of milk down him.”