Dyeing Season

by Karen MacInerney

  This wasn't the time to speculate, though. I slipped the locket into my pocket to show Dottie, then poked around with my foot at the base of the tree to see if there was anything else I'd missed. There was nothing obvious, but I made a mental note of the tree's location and moved on, far more worried about Eva and the kids than searching for artifacts exposed by the storm.

  I continued to call as I approached the creek. The ground was squashy underfoot, making me glad I'd stopped to grab my boots. I looked for signs of footprints, either human or goat, but saw nothing. Either they'd come this way before the rain, or I was barking up the wrong tree, so to speak.

  The kids had to be out there somewhere, I told myself as I skirted a small clump of cactus and followed the slope down to the creek. The vegetation changed as I got closer; the grass gave way to clumps of dewberries and a few young frostweed plants, as well as several vines I recognized as poison ivy. I skirted the vines as I made my way down to the banks, praying that Thistle and Cinnamon hadn't been washed away by a torrent.

  The water in the swollen creek had risen sharply, completely submerging some of the plants on the muddy banks.

  "Thistle! Cinnamon! Eva!"

  As I called, I thought I heard a bleating noise farther downstream. I strained my eyes and called again, but heard and saw nothing. Grabbing the slender trunk of a young hackberry for balance, I made my way down the bank, calling and listening for any response. Then I heard it again.

  I hurried through the underbrush, trying to locate the source of the sound. "Thistle! Cinnamon!"

  A faint bleat answered me. It was Thistle, looking tiny and drenched, lying on her side. She was caught under a fallen branch, her legs covered in water.

  "I'm here," I told her as I reached her. Her eyes rolled in her head, panicked, and she bleated, but she was so exhausted she could barely lift her head. "I've got you," I told her as I lifted the branch, praying it hadn't broken her back.

  To my relief, Thistle flailed her legs, struggling to get to her feet. I scooped her up into my arms, holding the wet, shaking body to my chest. "Where's your sister?" I asked, scanning the banks and listening. "Cinnamon!" I called. "Cinnamon!"

  I picked my way up the bank, searching for Cinnamon with the shivering kid clutched to my chest, but there was no sign of Thistle's sister. My stomach churned with worry for the baby goat, who had always been full of spunk and curiosity. Had she been washed away by the rising waters?

  I was about to turn back to Dewberry Farm when a flash of something pink caught my eye. "We'll go back in a moment," I murmured to Thistle, holding her close as I stepped over a snarl of sawbrier. Whatever it was was half-submerged... had somebody lost a jacket in the storm? I wondered. I pushed a few branches out of the way and then sucked in my breath.

  It wasn't a lost jacket.

  It was Eva.

  4

  "Eva!"

  I stumbled forward toward the woman's prone form, Thistle clutched to my chest. Eva's face was pale and turned to the side, and one arm bobbed in the strong current. I half-slid down the bank toward her, churning up mud and young plants as I crouched by her head and sat down in the mud, Thistle nestled into my lap.

  "Eva!" I called again, hoping she'd respond to her name. Her eyes were half-open, seemingly sightless. Her hand lolled in the brown water, and I felt a shiver of foreboding course through me as I touched her neck, searching for a pulse.

  She was cold.

  I reached in my pocket for my phone and dialed Tobias, hand shaking.

  "I'm coming up empty," he said. "How about you?" he said when he picked up.

  "I've got Thistle, but Eva..."

  "Oh, you found her. She came back?"

  "No," I said. "I'm down by the creek. She's..." I looked down at the young woman's prone form. Her chest was still, and her face was pale and waxy. "I think she's dead."

  I didn't know how long I'd been sitting by the creek when Tobias came crashing through the undergrowth. "Lucy," he said as I looked up. "Are you okay?"

  "I'm... I don't know," I said.

  He kissed me on top of the head and then turned to Eva, feeling for a pulse. He grimaced, shaking his head. "She's gone. We need to call the sheriff, unfortunately." Then he turned to the little body curled up in my lap. "She looks exhausted," he said, examining her. "But I don't see any physical trauma."

  "I found her in the creek," I said. "Under a heavy branch."

  "No sign of Cinnamon?"

  "None," I said.

  "Well, she may still turn up," he said, turning back to Eva. "What I don't understand is, how did Eva end up here?"

  "I was wondering the same thing," I said. "Maybe she accidentally went into the creek during the storm and got carried away by the water?"

  "Speaking of water, it's still rising," Tobias observed; he was right. The bank I was sitting on was quickly being swallowed by the creek. "I'm afraid we're going to have to move her before Rooster gets here."

  "Do you really think it will matter?" I asked.

  "Probably not. Although we might get lucky and get Deputy Shames."

  "I tried," I said. "I called the sheriff's office while I was waiting for you. Opal wasn't there, so it's going to be the luck of the draw, I'm afraid." Opal womanned the front desk at the sheriff's office, and had become something of an ally over the past year or two.

  "Do you have Thistle?" he asked as I clambered to my feet.

  "I do," I said, still cradling the trembling body. As I made my way up the slippery bank, Tobias stood behind Eva and lifted her by her armpits, sliding as he maneuvered her up the bank. Her arms flopped around and her head lolled back.

  "Tobias," I said. Despite the spring weather, a sodden wool scarf was wrapped around her neck. As it shifted, I pointed to what appeared to be bruises on her neck.

  "That doesn't look like an accidental fall," he said.

  "And I don't think the tornado did that to her."

  "No," he said as he tugged her away from the water and gently set her down on the bank. Now that the scarf had shifted, I could see a ring of dark bruising on her pale neck.

  "Someone strangled her with her own scarf, didn't they?" I said in a soft voice, shuddering.

  "And then dumped her in the creek, it looks like," he said. "There are leaves and branches in her hair."

  "So someone wanted it to look like she got caught by the tornado and drowned in the creek?"

  "Maybe," Tobias said. "Thing is, though, drowning victims have water in their lungs."

  "And they don't have bruised necks." As I turned away from the body, something caught my eye. "What's that?" I asked, pointing to a sodden piece of paper protruding from Eva's pocket.

  "It looks like a name," he said.

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket. "What is it?"

  "The paper's torn, so there's only a piece of it. Looks like something Holding... maybe Cup?"

  "Cup Holding? That's kind of random," I said. "Anything else?"

  "I don't want to touch her more than I have to," he said.

  "Take Thistle for me," I said, handing him the kid. I wrapped the hem of my wet T-shirt around my hand and felt Eva's pocket. "No phone here," I said, and moved to check the other pocket. It was also empty.

  "Did you see her phone at the house?" Tobias asked.

  "No," I replied. "And we called it a couple of times; no one picked up." I checked her jeans pockets; they were also empty.

  "So someone strangled her, then took her phone," he said.

  "Either that or she lost it in the water," I said.

  "Maybe," he said. It was too murky to tell.

  "Maybe the police will have better luck," I suggested, but I didn't have much confidence. I looked at Eva's pale face again. Who had killed her?

  And why?

  By the time Deputy Shames showed up, the water had risen another two feet, and we'd had to move Eva farther up the bank. Tobias had given Thistle a quick exam; she was shaken, but should be okay. I just wished we could fi
nd her sister. And that we could somehow bring Eva back.

  "Storm victim?" the deputy asked as she tramped through the pasture with a camera-laden officer I didn't recognize at her heels.

  "It doesn't look like it," I said, pointing to the scarf and bruises on her neck.

  She grimaced. "Bad news. Is Dottie okay?"

  "Quinn's with her," I said. "Eva apparently left the house not long before the tornado hit. I was out looking for missing kids and found her."

  "Do you know when Eva was last seen alive?"

  "According to Dottie, she went out about an hour before the storm and never came back."

  "Was she going to meet someone?"

  I shrugged. "Dottie didn't know. She must have taken her phone with her, unless she left it in the car. We called her from Dottie's house, but didn't hear it ring."

  "Any sign of it out here?"

  "No," I said. "But I haven't done much searching, to be honest.

  "We'll have to cordon off the area," she said. "Obviously, we don't have a coroner's report yet, but I'm fairly comfortable saying this looks like a homicide."

  "Let us know if we can do anything to help," Tobias said.

  "I'll come ask you some questions in a bit," she said. "I know you've got to get that little one back home to her mama. It's usually a futile request in Buttercup, but all I ask is that you don't say anything about what you found here," she advised us.

  "We understand," I assured her. "Let us know if you need anything."

  "Any idea who might have wanted to do her in?" she asked bluntly.

  "No," I said, shaking my head. Eva had seemed well liked, from what I'd seen.

  "Well, she rubbed someone the wrong way," the deputy observed. "And I aim to find out who. I'll be by to talk to Dottie in a little bit."

  "I'll have to go back to the house," I said. "I don't want to lie; can I tell her Eva's gone?"

  She nodded. "Please tell her I'll be by with questions as soon as I get some more investigators out here," she said. "And that I'm sorry for her loss."

  I glanced at Tobias, who reached to touch my arm. Thank goodness Deputy Shames had turned up instead of Rooster. Eva might be gone, but at least we had a competent law enforcement officer on the scene.

  For now, anyway.

  We were cleared to go within a half hour of the deputy's arrival. "I'll take this one back and get her cleaned up and reunited with her mama," Tobias told me as we walked up the creek bank, away from what was left of Eva. An ambulance had pulled into the driveway. I hated to have to share the news. And I still didn't know what had happened to Carrot's baby.

  "What do you think happened to Cinnamon?"

  "I don't know," Tobias said solemnly. "I'm hoping she found her way back home. If not, we'll put out an alert and keep searching."

  "Yes," I said. "That's all we can do, I guess. In the meantime, I guess I have to go tell Dottie."

  "I'm so sorry." He kissed me on the forehead when we got to the fence. "See you in a bit?"

  "Call me if Cinnamon turns up, okay?"

  "Of course," he said, sheltering the little kid as he ducked through the fence. I watched him walk back to the barn for a moment, feeling thankful to have met such a good and caring man, before turning toward Dottie's house to break the bad news. My fingers trailed the bleached stalks of last year's little bluestem as I walked. Would it still be here next year?

  Quinn was waiting for me on the porch when I turned the corner of the house.

  "What's going on?" she asked.

  "We found one of the kids," I told her.

  "That doesn't explain the ambulance."

  I sighed. "And Eva."

  "Is she okay?"

  "The kid is," I said in a low voice. "Eva... not so much."

  Quinn's eyes widened. "What happened?"

  "I'm not supposed to say anything about the details, but it looks like she was the victim of foul play."

  "You mean somebody killed her?"

  I nodded.

  Quinn's hand moved to her throat, echoing what must have happened to Eva while Quinn and I were putting down row cover. I shivered, thinking that whoever had killed Eva had probably been close enough to see Quinn and me working out in the field.

  "Did you happen to notice anyone out and about at Dottie's when we were working?" I asked.

  "You mean when we were putting down row cover?"

  I nodded.

  "Not that I remember," she said.

  I sighed. "Is Dottie awake?"

  "I just got her settled in the living room and turned on a game show," she said. "Time to break the news, eh?"

  "Unfortunately, I think we have to."

  "I'll go with you," she said. Together we walked into the little house's living room, where the cheery sound of Jeopardy! blared from a small tube-style television. Dottie was ensconced in a faded green velour armchair; a gold couch and a love seat from the same era formed a TV-viewing ring. Although I was sure the subfloor was hardwood, a faded brown carpet stretched from wall to wall. Framed pictures of her children, from babyhood to young adulthood, covered the walls, and a series of more recent baby pictures adorned the top of the TV. I knew Dottie loved her family.

  My neighbor looked up from where she was sitting in the chair, a blanket over her lap despite the warm spring temperature. She looked frailer than I remembered, and I hated to have to tell her what I knew. "Any luck finding Eva? Or those missing baby goats Quinn told me about?" my neighbor asked, eyes sharp.

  "Sort of," I said, sitting down on the couch across from her recliner. "I'm afraid I've got some bad news."

  "What? Did the goats pass? I'm so sorry, Lucy."

  "It's about Eva," I said. "She didn't make it through the storm."

  Dottie stared at me for a moment, then seemed to deflate, sinking back into the chair. "I can't believe it," she murmured. "It couldn't be..." Her color was alarmingly pale.

  "I know it's a shock," I said. "Can I get you anything? A glass of water?"

  "Do you need to lie down?" Quinn asked.

  "No..." Dottie said, seemingly lost in a world of her own. Then she gave herself a little shake. "What happened? It was the storm, right?"

  I hesitated, then said, "I'm not sure."

  "Foul play," she croaked. "No. It couldn't be," she repeated. "Can't be."

  Couldn't be what? I wondered. Was she just upset that Eva had died, or did she suspect something else?

  5

  "I'm so sorry," Quinn said, and I reached down to squeeze Dottie's hand.

  "Deputy Shames is going to be by to ask you some questions in a little bit," I said in a quiet voice.

  "Are you sure it wasn't just the storm? And why do the police want to talk to me?" She looked afraid, somehow. Quinn and I exchanged glances.

  "We're here," Quinn said, hurrying over and kneeling beside her chair. I took the other side, taking Dottie's fragile hand in my own and giving it a squeeze. "Where's Jessie?" she asked. "I have to talk to my son."

  "I don't know," I told her softly. "We'll give him a call."

  "No," she said. "No. I was wrong... never mind. I'm fine." She took a deep breath and seemed to marshal herself. "I'll be just fine. Poor girl. It must have been one of her boyfriends. She had so many."

  "Boyfriends?"

  "Oh, yes," Dottie said, seeming a little frenzied. "She liked to make them jealous. I told her it wasn't a good idea, but..."

  "Do you know their names?"

  "Oh, there were a few of them. I heard her talking on the phone with Gus..." she said.

  "Gus? You don't mean Gus Holz, do you?"

  "Yes, that's the one," she said. "She was planning a dinner with him."

  My stomach clenched. Today was just getting worse and worse, I thought to myself. Gus had started going steady with my friend Flora Kocurek over the Christmas holiday. Had he been two-timing her with Eva? If so, I knew Flora would be devastated. I glanced at Quinn, who looked equally grim.

  "Eva was talking about him jus
t the other day," Dottie continued. "I'll be sure to tell the deputy. Poor thing," she repeated. "She was just doing her best." She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them wide. "Tea. Is there any tea?"

  "I'll get you a glass," Quinn said. "Sweetened or unsweetened?"

  "Just a pack of the pink stuff, please," she said. "Eva keeps... kept it in a jar by the coffee maker. Although I suppose I won't have a coffee maker much longer, will I?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "I just don't know if I can keep the place up," she said. "Even with Eva..."

  "I heard a rumor that Faith was looking at listing the place," I told her. "I was hoping it wasn't true."

  "Nothing's been decided," she said.

  "You're really thinking of selling?" Quinn asked from the kitchen.

  "I don't want to," she said, her frail frame seeming to shrink further, "but Jessie thinks it's best. It'll help pay for the assisted living. I have some money put away, but most of it's tied up in the farm."

  "We'd hate to see you leave. There's no way you could get another home health aide?" Quinn asked.

  "Jessie's pretty insistent," she said. "My boy loves me. He'll do what's right for me." She sounded brave, but I could see her lower lip trembling as she spoke. I didn't know much about her son Jessie’s motivations, but I had a feeling that Dottie's interests weren't the only ones being considered when it came to the potential move.

  "Even if he's insistent," I said, "you've got to be sure it's the right thing for you."

  She sighed. "I just don't know anymore. I thought maybe I shouldn't do it. I hate the thought of the place being taken over and turned into one of those hobby ranches. But now, with Eva..." Her mouth snapped shut. "I shouldn't talk about this."

  Quinn was about to answer when the doorbell rang.

  "I'll get it," I said, and a moment later, opened the front door to Deputy Shames.

  "Did you tell her?" she asked as I let her in the door.

  "We broke the news, yes."

  "She take it okay?"

  "As well as can be expected," I told her.