by Ellen Riggs
Asher gave me a pleading look and whispered, “Can you just not be weird, Ivy?”
“Weird? Do you think I’m weird?”
“A little bit, yeah. You talk to your dog all the time.”
I gave him a look. “Everyone talks to their dogs. If they love them enough.”
“But you talk to him as if you think he’s answering back. That’s what’s weird.”
“Excuse me. I think—”
Kellan smacked his hands together. “You two. Can you save the bickering for a family dinner? In case you’ve forgotten, someone just died.”
“Sorry.” Asher’s voice and mine overlapped.
“I didn’t mean to be disrespectful,” I said. “Of Lloyd or you.”
Kellan knelt to examine Lloyd and then recoiled as Keats crept over and tried to sniff his hands in their latex gloves. “Ivy, please. Put the dog on a leash. I’ve got a forensic expert on the way and he’ll find dog hair in the evidence.”
“I don’t have a leash with me. He’s allowed to be loose on my property.”
“Not if your property is a crime scene.”
“A crime scene?” My voice had a note of panic and Keats came over to me of his own accord. “I thought Lloyd had a heart attack or something.”
When I found Lloyd in the field, I’d stooped to touch his exposed bare shin, where his uniform pant leg had ridden up. His skin was cool enough to send me reeling backwards and groping for my phone. Then I ran back to wait for the police on the driveway so that I could usher them to the spot where Lloyd had collapsed. In between, I’d shut out the anxious thoughts the way I usually did now: by focussing on Keats. He didn’t leave my side until my heart rate subsided and my fingers left the soft fur between his floppy ears. But the moment he deemed me “stable,” he started his own investigation.
“It’s a crime scene,” Kellan said. He stood up and unbuckled his belt while I tried not to stare. Then he yanked it out of the loops and handed it to me. “Tie the dog up.”
I did as he instructed, and then asked, “How did Lloyd die?”
“It definitely wasn’t a heart attack,” Asher said. He made a dramatic gesture circling his neck and pretended to choke himself.
“Oh my god, Lloyd was strangled?” I said. “On my property?”
“Asher,” Kellan said. “Could you take your sister up to the house? There’s no need for her to see any of this.”
The cows were complaining in their pasture, reminding me that I hadn’t done my chores. Most evenings I put the livestock to bed after Charlie went home. “I’ve got to feed and water my animals. I can find my way alone.”
Kellan looked up at me from a crouch. “No doubt. But I’d prefer you had company right now. Asher can see you to the house and the cows will need to wait a bit. We’ll come up to the house when we’re done to chat.”
“Okay. There’s plenty of pie,” I said. He started to speak and I raised my hand. “Fine. Understood. It’s not a pie sort of occasion. Give me a break, Kellan. When you release your crime scene etiquette book, I’ll be the first to read it.”
The first of the big lights came on in time to show his lips twitching into a half smile. “You do that.”
“Ivy.” Asher pretended to zip his lip. “Let’s just take the dog and go.”
“Come on, Keats,” I said. “If they don’t want your help, it’s their loss.”
“Don’t discuss the case,” Kellan called after us. “You can bicker about the dog if you like.”
“Thanks, Chief Harper,” I called back. “Put that in the guide, too.”
As we trudged up to the barn in silence, Keats kept turning back, always to the right with his blue eye, as if that were his crime-solving eye. I would have expected him to be unnerved by the body, perhaps even traumatized given the violence we’d experienced together a few months earlier. Instead, he was genuinely curious, maybe even officious. Like any border collie, he liked having a job to do.
Asher saw me into the house and I locked the door after he left. Was there a murderer on the property now? Was he watching me? Were my animals safe? And why on earth did he choose to kill Lloyd Boyce on my property, of all places? And what had made him want to kill Lloyd in the first place?
They were all questions I couldn’t answer, so I did the only thing I could think of. I called Jilly.
“Hey,” she said, picking up on the first ring. “How’s farm life treating you? Are you so chill I won’t even recognize you when I visit?”
“Not exactly,” I said.
I sat down in a deep leather chair that was way nicer than I could ever afford. Hannah Pemberton had left the place semi-furnished, and most of the pieces were luxurious. Daisy and I were filling the gaps on the fly and trying to make my cheaper style blend. The family room, where I sat now, was my favorite place to hang out. It was part of the new wing and had high ceilings, and large windows that looked out on rolling fields. Hannah’s plants grew tall here and the hibiscus was covered in fuchsia blooms.
Tonight, the leather chair was too comfortable given the circumstances. I got up and paced instead. Keats normally stayed by my side but now he was standing watch at the side window, closest to the murder action. I walked over and unhooked Kellan’s belt from the dog’s collar and set it on the hall table.
“What’s happened?” Jilly asked. “I can tell something’s wrong. Is your head okay?”
“As okay as it normally is… at least the new normal.” Jilly had witnessed the attack and stuck with me throughout my recovery. She knew my brain injury had some lasting effects that were diminishing slowly but might not ever fully go. On the other hand, in some ways my mind seemed to work better than before. My intuition and powers of observation were sharper. Maybe they had to make up for the deficits.
“Well, then, is Keats okay?” she asked. I could tell from the clicking that she was on her feet pacing, too. We did that often when we had problems to solve—paced together while apart.
“Keats is more than okay. He’s fascinated by the fact that someone was murdered on my property today.”
There was a long silence on Jilly’s end. “You’re joking, right? It’s not all that funny, in case you were wondering.”
“Not joking, unfortunately.” I started from the top and explained all that I knew.
“That’s terrible,” Jilly said. “This dogcatcher doesn’t sound like a nice man, but he didn’t deserve to die like that. And why did it happen on your farm?”
“Good question. I’m hoping Chief Harper will be able to shed some light on it for me after his investigation. Otherwise, it’s going to cast a long shadow over the inn’s opening.”
“Plus you may not be safe,” Jilly said.
“That, too. But hopefully Lloyd’s list of enemies is short so Kellan can solve the case quickly.”
There was another long silence and I knew Jilly was scouring her mental database. As a corporate headhunter, she had a great memory for names. I’d probably only used that name once but—
“Kellan Harper,” she said, triumphantly. “Your high school sweetheart. Are you telling me he’s on the farm right now?”
“Yep.” I headed into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. “He’s out in the field working with a team, including my brother and a forensics specialist. I got sent to the house because Keats was too nosy. Kellan took off his belt and made me loop him up.”
“You looped Kellan up…?” Jilly sounded intrigued.
I laughed. “I looped Keats up so he couldn’t get me in more trouble. Kellan doesn’t know how gifted the dog is, and my brother was embarrassed by my weirdness in front of his boss.”
“Oh Ivy.” Jilly laughed and then sighed. “I thought we’d put drama behind us, yet here we are again.”
I liked how she used “we.” She’d always had my back in Boston. On the farm I missed her dearly after only a week. My family could fill some of the gaps, but none of them knew me as well as Jilly did. Even more so now that both of us were d
ealing with some lingering post-traumatic stress disorder.
“I’ll be fine,” I said. “I’ve got Keats and Daisy and Asher.”
“What about your mom? And your other sisters?”
“Poppy, Lily and Violet took Mom on a road trip to give me space to get settled. They practically had to hogtie her to get her into the car. But she’s always wanted to go to Disneyland and they made my dreams come true by taking her.”
Jilly laughed. “You’ve got some great sisters.”
“I know, right? Especially given this new Lloyd situation. I’d hate to have to deal with Mom’s theatrics on top of all this.”
“Maybe I should come down early,” Jilly said. “I wanted to be there for your big launch but now is probably better.”
“I’ll be fine, really. Daisy will be all over this, micromanaging. You’re better to come and set up my menu closer to opening. By the way, you need to work on your egg game. Those hens are producers, my friend.”
“I’ll start experimenting at home. How about—”
“Jilly, I hear boots on the porch.”
“Officer Hottie is there?”
“Chief Hottie,” I whispered, hurrying to the front hall. “Talk to you tomorrow.”
Asher unlocked the front door without knocking. We pretty much had an open-door policy in our family, which was taking me time to get used to again.
“I hope that’s coffee I smell,” he said, leading Kellan through the family room and into the kitchen. “There’s a chill tonight. Fall’s in the air.”
I had set eight mugs on the counter in case they brought the whole crew, but only filled three now. Asher carried them to the huge round oak dining table that could sit 10 even without an extra leaf. I followed with cream, sugar and spoons.
“You’re sure about the pie?” I asked. “Mandy McCain’s blueberry is to die for.” I covered my mouth. “Forget I said that.” My face heated up again as I shot Kellan a look. “Honestly, things just slip out these days. I haven’t fully recovered from a concussion.”
“I heard you hit your head,” Kellan said, meeting my eyes briefly. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m doing fine.” I gestured around the beautifully renovated kitchen with all the bells and whistles. “Better than fine. If not for the head injury, I wouldn’t have all this.”
Asher glanced around. “It’s pretty sweet, but you’re taking on a lot, Ivy. We’re not from farming stock.”
“I’m a quick study,” I said. “Plus, with my HR background, I know how to hire good help. I’m interviewing tomorrow.”
Kellan cleared his throat as he sat down at the table. “It’s great to catch up, but we need to talk about Lloyd.”
I nodded. “You’ll have heard that he came to the door this morning and issued me this.” I pushed the orange ticket across the table to him. “Edna Evans reported Keats for herding her chickens onto her front porch.”
Kellan looked like he was fighting a grin as he took a photo of the ticket with his phone.
Asher didn’t bother fighting his smile. “Edna’s a piece of work. She’s constantly calling in complaints.”
“Asher.” Kellan’s expression was a mild rebuke. “Business.”
Ash gave him a sheepish look and gulped his coffee before speaking again. “Ivy, tell us exactly what happened with Lloyd.”
Pushing my hair off my forehead, I sighed. “It already seems so long ago. We had words. I defended Keats and asked Lloyd not to fine me, because it would put a blot on my record with the County before I’ve even opened the inn. He did it anyway.”
Asher muttered something unflattering under his breath until Kellan looked up from the notepad where he was scribbling and gave him another warning look.
“Did Lloyd give you any reason to think he was stressed or upset at the time?” Kellan asked.
I shook my head. “No, although he looked a bit haggard. I hadn’t seen him since high school and I was surprised at how much older he looked. Must be all the time in the sun.”
Kellan took notes steadily and I had to stop myself from rambling on just to fill the gap. I never used to ramble. Until two months ago, I was a woman of few words and all of them sensible. Now when I was stressed, it was like I had verbal incontinence.
“Did he mention any issues with others in town?” Kellan asked.
“He told me he’d split with Nadine. And then he said he was seeing Mandy McCain now. He seemed pleased about that.” I took a sip of my coffee, already lukewarm, and then stirred the sugar that had settled in the bottom of the cup. I’d added way too much because my hand trembled. “Later, when I was at Myrtle’s Store, Mandy said they weren’t actually dating. So maybe Lloyd was exaggerating.”
Kellan kept his eyes on his notepad, writing surprisingly quickly. I guessed he’d had plenty of practice.
“Anything else?” he asked. His pen stopped and his gray-blue eyes met mine at last. They were as striking as they had been in senior year, although now lines etched the corners. No doubt he’d seen plenty of things in his career to make him look that weary.
Tracing the grain of the oak with one index finger, I pondered. I didn’t want to be cavalier about people’s reputations. Word got around fast here, as I knew to my peril.
“If you know something, you’d better speak up now, sis,” Asher said. “The sooner we can get to the bottom of this, the better.”
Leaning back, I crossed my arms. “Like I said, I stopped at Myrtle’s Store and I had a coffee. Nadine was there and overheard me talking about my run-in with Lloyd. She said some negative things about her ex, and she wasn’t the only one. Fred and Margie Hodgson weren’t fans either. No one likes a dogcatcher in dog country, I guess.”
Pushing his chair back, Kellan got up. “I’ll need a list of everyone you saw today, Ivy.”
I stood, too. “There’s no way Mandy, Nadine or Margie could strangle a big man like Lloyd. He must have other enemies.” I turned to Ash. “Even you had a falling out with him after high school, and everyone likes you.”
My brother shrugged. “Lloyd was a—”
“Asher.” The rebuke was stronger this time. “We’ll do some digging and come back to you with follow-up questions, Ivy. With your inn opening, this is bad timing for you.”
“Is there ever a good time for a murder?” I asked, trailing after them to the front door.
He shook his head. “No. And I didn’t need my crime scene etiquette book to help me answer that.”
His smile was genuine, though fleeting. As the two men walked down the front stairs and got into the squad car, I stroked Keats’ ears.
“I know what you’re thinking, buddy,” I told him. “But it’s better if we keep our distance. Get too close and we could get even more burned than we already are.”
“Hey,” I called after them. “What about my cows?”
Asher stuck his head out the window. “I’ll be back in an hour.”
“Get a mooove on it,” I said, and then regretted it, as Kellan shook his head before pulling out.
Chapter Five
Mucking out stalls turned out to be a great way to clear my mind the next morning. It kept my hands busy and my mind free to ponder what I was calling “the Lloyd situation.” I had no doubt at all that Kellan Harper was good at his job. I’d seen the writeups when I was shamelessly creeping him online before my return to Clover Grove. In HR, creeping was actually common practice; you wanted to know what your applicants did on their own time to make sure they didn’t embarrass the company. So I didn’t feel as sheepish about it as I probably should have. I just wanted to know what to expect when we were sharing the same small town.
Daisy had called three times since she heard about what happened from Asher. I’d assured her I was coping fine, although I’d barely slept. I refused her offers of company and insisted she go to work and leave me to mine. Her parting words were a threat: if I dared to get involved in the investigation, she’d move to the farm—with all four boy
s. I assured her that my previous brush with death had been plenty for one lifetime.
The man I’d rescued Keats from was a dangerous man indeed, and the thought of our altercation made my heart pound and my breath quicken even months later. I’d come here for a safe and peaceful life, so the last thing I wanted to do was start poking around a murder.
But…
I had a lot at stake. Guests wouldn’t be in a hurry to book a serene farm retreat with an unsolved crime and a killer on the loose. So if there was anything I could do to help get to the bottom of the Lloyd situation, I was willing to try.
“You okay?” Charlie asked, as he fed the sheep. His silver hair and twinkling blue eyes made him a magnet for ladies of a certain age, but he was determined to remain a bachelor. The farm had been his soft landing after retiring from an insurance company—if you called hard physical labor a soft landing. Charlie did; me, not so much. In fact, I wanted to reduce my time in the barn and pasture, which was why I’d lined up interviews that day with potential staff.
“Fine,” I said, leading Florence, the old blind mare, out of her stall. “Just a bit of a murder hangover, I guess. Can you believe someone was killed here at Runaway Farm?”
He was inside the pen with six sheep and crossed his arms on top of the gate to stare at me. “Unfortunately, I can. Things have been unsettled all over hill country in the past few years. Even with the politicians playing nice across county lines again, people are rattled. You can’t flip years of tension off like a light switch.”
I tied Florence up so I could clean her stall. “You think Lloyd’s death has something to do with politics?”
“Lloyd had a controversial public sector job.” He shrugged. “Was his death tied directly to politics? I dunno. Indirectly? Maybe.”
“I knew there’d been trouble here but I thought things had calmed down.” I ran a hand down Florence’s sleek side. All the animals were in great condition despite being rescues. Hannah Pemberton had treated them well. Charlie said she adored the place and had only sold because she’d needed to move to Europe with her husband Nick and their baby girl to help run her family’s business. After our initial conversation, all of my dealings with Hannah had been through lawyers. I’d gotten the sense that the sale was painful for her to discuss. The massive binder she’d left with detailed notes about the farm’s recent history, the community and especially the livestock showed she cared deeply. I was honored she’d chosen me to carry on her legacy.
