“Mur, what do you think?”
“Got a giant in the neighborhood? I’ve never seen prints that big, but they could be a hoax,” she said. “Lot of kids out here get bored during the summer.”
The raised beds had been torn apart. “Well, if it’s kids, it’s more than a prank.” I gauged the damage that had been done. “They really ripped up this section of the garden. But why did the culprit stop here and not rampage through the whole field?”
“Because I heard it, that’s why,” Jimbo said. “Roo was barking her head off so I came out with my shotgun. Thought it might be a coyote or a fox after the chickens. I told you five of my chickens went missing over the past few weeks. I saw something loping back into the woods, and it was moving fast. Big, running on two legs. Look at what it did to my fence.”
Though he’d already started mending it, the fence showed definite signs of damage. None of the wires had been cut, but instead had been bent, as if some large weight leaned against it until it was low enough to crawl over.
I looked for any sign of cloth or fur stuck to the wires but came up empty. Finally, I reached out to grab the fence where it had been mangled the most. As I touched the wire, a jolt raced through my fingers and I yanked my hand away. A thin red line rose where my palm had touched the barbed wire. “Damn it, why didn’t you tell me there’s juice running through this?”
Jimbo gave me a quizzical look. “What are you talking about?”
With Murray peeking over my shoulder, I showed him my hand. “This is what I’m talking about. The minute I touched the fence, I got shocked.”
“O’Brien, this fence ain’t electrified. I don’t have the bucks for that.” His eyes flashed and I thought I detected a hint of worry behind that gruff exterior.
Murray turned to examine the fence. “He’s right, no juice. Em, did you feel anything else?”
I closed my eyes, trying remember what had been running through my mind, but the only thing that stood out was the blinding flash of pain as it registered on my nerves. “No. I have no idea what happened, but I don’t like it. Okay, well, it’s obvious something came through here. I dunno what.”
“Bear maybe?” Murray said. “Bears are good for that sort of thing, when they aren’t trying to get in your car.” She gave me a snarky grin, as if I needed a reminder that a big ol’ bear had been cozying up to my late and lamented SUV.
Jimbo shook his head. “Bear would have gone sniffin’ around the garbage, not digging up carrots.”
“True enough,” Murray said. “What say we go get the groceries?”
We wandered back to the driveway and wrestled the food out of the Mountaineer. I looked over at Jimbo. “Where should I stow this stuff? Down in the clearing where the kids go swimming?”
“Yeah. Here, give me that.” He snagged the heaviest bags out of my arms, carrying them as if they were made of Styrofoam. Murray and I gathered up the rest of the supplies and set off behind him, with Roo hopping right alongside.
“You’re one heck of a doggie,” I said, stopping to pet her.
Jimbo glanced back at me. “Roo’s a keeper, all right. Found her out there on the road a couple years ago,” he said. “Some dumb-ass hit her with a truck and kept on going. I took her to the vet down the road and he amputated her leg. The bone was shattered, and he said it would be harder on her for him to try and fix it than to amputate it. She healed up just fine. I named her Roo ’cause she reminds me of a kangaroo.”
Yet another side of Jimbo that had only recently showed itself. He also had a couple of cats, Snidely and Whiplash; a couple of nanny goats, Billy and The Kid; and a huge pen of chickens. He only named the egg-layers though, never the ones culled for roasting.
As we entered the clearing, I saw that Jimbo had been doing some landscaping. The foliage had been cut away since the last time the kids and I were here. The shore was easily accessible now. The water was so shallow in this area that you could easily wade out till it hit your knees before the lake bottom dropped off suddenly, plunging to fifteen feet deep within a single step’s range. A couple of inner-tubes floated nearby, tied to a rickety walkway that led out to a rowboat. Canary grass, waist high, was sprinkled with thick stands of cattails and horsetail and skunk cabbage, whose brilliant yellow flowers filled the air with a fetid smell.
The day was shaping up to be hot—at least eighty degrees. I fished through the bags for sunscreen. “I’ll start looking around after lunch. I’d rather do it then, when I’ve eaten enough to ground my energy.”
Jimbo shrugged, looking a little disappointed. “Sure. Whatever works for you. If Scar’s dead, well… I guess he won’t be going anywhere. And if he’s not, then I’m back to square one.” He headed up the trail. “I’ll go check on the bird. It should be ready in a few minutes.”
As Jimbo disappeared toward the house, Murray and I spread out the blanket and arranged the food.
“Do you honestly think you’ll find anything?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Ten to one, no. My guess is that Scar took off, got freaked by the idea of fatherhood or something like that. He’ll probably turn up in a few days. I can tell that Jimbo’s a lot more worried about Scar than he lets on. But I have to say, it’s this mysterious intruder that confuses me. He’s right, whatever did it was big. And if it was a person, they’d have to be incredibly strong to bend that fence.”
The soft lapping of waves against the shore and the drone of buzzing insects lulled me into a drowsy state. I stretched out on the blanket, propping myself up on one elbow as I shaded my eyes. Across the lake, a scattered handful of homes dotted the shoreline.
“Those houses over there look expensive.”
“They are. The developers scam people for every buck they can get.” Murray arched her back, then pulled off her clothes to reveal a lovely two-piece tankini suit. The brilliant cobalt set off her dark skin and eyes. She shook her hair out of the ever-present braid. Loose, it hung down to her butt, a little longer than mine, but her hair was so straight that it gleamed in the sunlight.
I stared at her, unable to wrench my eyes away. “You look absolutely amazing, Mur.” And breathtaking she was: tall, curvy, sturdy, with well-muscled legs and arms.
She swatted a bee away from the bread. “Thanks. I thought I might as well get some swimming in while we’re here. Yoga class has given me a lot of extra energy.”
“I was stiff as a board this morning. I sure hope I end up enjoying it as much as you do,” I grumbled.
She settled on the blanket next to me. “Give it time. You just started. Your body has to adjust to the movements.”
A rustling through the grass told us Jimbo had returned. He was carrying a platter of fried chicken. “We’ll eat, then you can do your hoodoo thing and see if you can find out what happened to Scar.”
The smell wafting up from the plate was incredible, and the saliva began to churn in my mouth. As I bit into the drumstick, a wave of flavor rolled down my throat that almost brought tears to my eyes. “I’ve never tasted chicken so good. You say your grandmother taught you to cook like this?”
“Yep,” he said. “Last time I visited her, she gave me her recipe for fried chicken and catfish. I wrapped up some drumsticks and thighs for you to take home to the kids.”
Murray gave him a smile, her chin covered with chicken grease and butter from the French bread. “Well, you were a good student, I’ll say that much.” We polished off the entire platter along with most everything else I’d brought. I passed around the wet-wipes.
“Oh man, another bite and I’ll explode.” I dried my hands on a paper towel. “Jimbo, tell us a little more about Scar. What’s his real name? How long have you known him?”
He settled back against the ground, hands under his head. “I don’t know what Scar’s real name is. The boys in the valley have a code when it comes to information. If it’s not offered, don’t ask. Some of the guys out there are carrying baggage from the pa
st that they don’t want to talk about. Scar showed up four or five years back, said he was from the Midwest and had been on the road since 1986. We’re good buddies, but he’s never volunteered anything about his past. He’s a good guy, though… good-hearted.”
Murray nodded. “I guess tracing him by his social security number would be out of the question?”
Jimbo snorted. “And just who’s going to have that information? Scar was what you call an entrepreneur.”
I broke in. “But you told me he just bought a thirty-thousand-dollar bike. How did he get the money to pay for it?”
“The boys in the valley don’t have regular jobs, Em,” Murray said. “Most are legit, I think there are a several good mechanics out there who make a pretty penny and I know there are at least two jewelry makers and a fix-it guy. Others earn a few bucks through odd jobs and whatnot. And still others… You’re right, though. Thirty thousand dollars is a lot of money to be dropping on a motorcycle when you don’t have any visible means of income.”
Jimbo sat up and expelled a loud sigh. “Will you two get off it? I don’t know where his money came from, but I do know he wouldn’t hurt a fly. Scar loves his girlfriend. He likes the idea of having a family and kids, and he just wants to hang out and have a beer with his buddies in the evening. See what you can find, okay?”
Obviously this was getting us nowhere. I stood up and dusted off my jeans. “Guess I’ll get started. It’ll do me good to walk off some of this food. Where does Scar usually hang out?”
Jimbo pointed to a path that cut around the lake. “His favorite fishing spot is back there, through the woods and over by that little spit that comes out of the trees there.”
It looked to be close to half a mile. An easy hike. “Have you gone out there looking for him? Maybe he showed up, fell, hit his head on something.”
The big biker hung his head. “O’Brien, I’ve scoured everywhere else on this property, but for the past couple of weeks, that path’s given me the creeps every time I go near it. Never bothered me before but now, the minute I get near, I turn tail and hoof it back to the house. I wanted to check it out but I just… get scared out of my wits. I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t like it.”
Jimbo was, for the most part, ESP-blind, so whatever was out there was either unusually strong, or his imagination was playing tricks on him. Neither possibility reassured me. “Okay, why don’t you clean up this mess. If I’m not back in half an hour, come find me.”
He checked his watch, then nodded as I turned to Murray. “Ready to go?”
She shook her head. “Give me a few. I ate like a pig and I’ll explode if I move around too much. You want to wait for me?”
“Slacker! I’ll just go all by my lonesome and you can catch up.” I tossed her a grin, then flounced off in the direction of the path.
“I’ll be along in a bit—don’t go too far until I get there,” Murray called after me.
The area near Miner’s Lake was one step away from deep wilderness. Cedars and fir grew thick in the hushed shade of the forest, their tall trunks buttressed by dense thickets of waist-high deer ferns and thick shrubs of drooping salal, its leathery, shining leaves and clusters of waxy indigo berries ready to gather for wine and jelly making.
I stopped by a fallen log covered with the ever-present moss and mushrooms that permeated the area, and settled myself on the end, where I drifted into a light trance, touching on the droning of bees, the bird song that echoed through the trees, the gentle burble of a nearby creek. Sunlight beat down through the forest canopy, dappling the ground with the sparkles of peridot light that filtered through the leaves.
As my thoughts came to rest, I began to notice an undercurrent of energy. The welcoming path ahead suddenly loomed daunting and shadowed. I tried to pick out the chord that disrupted the otherwise tranquil woods, but it was almost as if the land wore a thin veneer of energy, much like a blanket of weaving colors that hid its secrets from prying eyes.
Unsettled, I wondered if I should turn back. No, I’d promised Jimbo I’d find out what I could, and Murray would be joining me soon. Surely, if there was anything out here, I’d see it before it saw me. Inhaling deeply, I reached out, searching for any sense of human life nearby, focusing on the copse, breathing slowly. Slow, go slow, deeper, a little deeper. And then, before I could shield against it, a presence intruded.
Thick tendrils of energy rumbled up from the soil. I tried to pull away but the vines coiled around my conscious thoughts, dragging my focus deep into the mulch of the forest floor. I couldn’t think, couldn’t break away, couldn’t do anything but succumb to the encroaching force. On the verge of passing out, I sought for a handhold, an anchor to ground me into the tangible world.
A sudden noise in the bushes broke my concentration, and I leaped to my feet, shaking myself out of the trance. A large brown hare scurried out of the bushes, loping across the path. The animal stopped long enough to turn and gaze at me through golden, glowing eyes, then vanished under a huckleberry bush as quickly as it had appeared.
Alice, I thought. Was I headed down the rabbit hole next? Jimbo had warned me there were strange energies hiding in these woods and he hadn’t been exaggerating. This patch of land was rooted in the glaciers and volcanic flows of these mountains, remaining relatively untouched by human development. The forces here were powerful, older than civilization. Who knew what might be lurking in the shadows?
Should I go on, or give it up? I glanced back, looking for any sign that Mur was on her way. Torn between my sense of duty and the feeling that I wasn’t altogether in a safe situation, I was about to go back for Murray when a beam of sunlight blinded me; reflecting off something in the clearing ahead, just beyond a low-growing patch of ferns. I hesitated. Since I’d come this far, I might as well take a look. If my eyes were playing tricks on me, then I’d head back to Jimbo’s.
I veered off the path, pushing my way through the undergrowth into the glade. Now I could see that the object that had caught my attention—a pair of eyeglasses, sitting on the ground. The light was reflecting off their lenses. Focused on them, I stepped over a small, leaf-covered log half-buried in the dirt and my toe caught on a root or a twig. I wavered for a moment, but couldn’t catch my balance and tumbled to the ground.
What the—? Reeling from the sudden fall, I pushed myself to my knees. No damage, as far as I could tell. I turned back to the log, my nose twitching. Something smelled horrible. Had an animal died out here? I leaned in closer, scattering a few leaves away from the branch that had caught my sneaker. Hell and high water! An arm! I’d tripped over somebody’s arm! Panicking, I scrambled away, but nothing moved. Ever so cautiously, I crept back and began to brush away more of the leaves and soil.
The man had been haphazardly buried under several bushels of mulch. He was face down, but by what I could see of his leather vest and the green bandana wrapped around his head, I had a sinking feeling that I’d discovered our missing biker. The stench and the cloud of flies that swarmed up when I disturbed the leaves told me that he’d been out here for a while. I made no move to turn him over. My imagination filled in blanks all too easily. I backed away, shaking.
Blood had spattered the tree trunk beneath which the man rested. Now dried, it resembled ruddy brown paint splattered on the bark. If this was Scar, he hadn’t met his end in an easy manner. I leaned against a nearby tree until I could compose myself, unable to wrench my eyes away from the sight. This was no accident. I had to get back to Murray. We had a murder on our hands.
Chapter 5
I JOGGED AS fast as I could, panting all the way. Oh yeah, I’d be sticking with yoga class, all right. As I broke into the clearing where we’d had our picnic, I received my second shock for the day.
Jimbo and Murray were entwined on the blanket. His hands were tangled in her hair, she was straddling his legs, still wearing that gorgeous swimsuit. Their lips were locked in a way that told me they’d done this
before. Leaning against a tree, I stared in disbelief. As I opened my mouth, the only words that I managed to squeak out were, “Oh, my God!”
“Emerald!” Murray jumped up, tripping as she scrambled away from Jimbo. The two of them looked for all the world like a couple of school kids who’d been caught necking under the bleachers. “We were—I was about to come after you—”
I shook my head at her. “Later. Jimbo, I’m sorry, but I think I just found Scar’s body and I’m pretty sure he didn’t die of natural causes.”
Jimbo’s expression changed from crimson to crushed. He scrambled to his feet. “Goddamn it.”
Murray grabbed her jeans and slid them on over her suit. She looked around for her tank top, then stopped to give Jimbo a gentle kiss on the cheek. “We don’t know that it’s Scar, Jimmy. But we’d better go out there and take a look. Let me get dressed and I’ll call for the coroner and a couple of the boys.” Stepping to one side, she pulled out her cell phone.
I knelt down next to the distraught biker. What could I say without sounding stupid? After all, I’d just found his best friend—dead, and I’d just found out that Jimbo and my best friend were probably doing the mattress mambo. After a moment, I reached out and put my hand on top of his. “I’m sorry, Jimbo. I really didn’t expect to find anything.”
He began to pace. “Scar was my best buddy. Did you sense anything out there? Anything at all?”
“Yeah, I did. Like you said, freaky. I wouldn’t want to hang out there alone for long. I’m not sure what’s causing it, but whatever the source of the energy, it almost knocked me unconscious. Whether it’s tied into Scar’s death, I dunno. But those woods aren’t very friendly once you scrape below the surface.”
Murray finished her call. “Go on ahead,” she said. “I’ll leave a note for Deacon and Sandy with directions and then catch up.”
Murder Under a Mystic Moon Page 6
