"Is this yours?" I asked Edward.
"No," he said, shaking his head.
"Do you have a bolt cutter?"
"In my workshop. I'll be back in a minute," he said, and headed back along the cluttered path toward the door.
When he was out of sight, Molly turned to me. "I can't believe how negligent he is! These kids are smoking, drinking..." She jabbed a finger at the beer can. "He had no idea what was going on back here, and never even thought to check. We're lucky it's just beer and cigarettes."
My eyes slid to the safe. It was just beer and cigarettes so far, I thought but didn't say. Something told me we'd find out more about what June and Ethan were up to once Edward cut that bolt.
"It doesn't look great," I admitted.
"Not great? Not great?" Molly crossed her arms. "He's forbidden to see that girl ever again."
"Let's get all the facts first," I said, putting a hand on her arm. "I met her; she seemed like a nice girl, and Ethan generally has a good head on his shoulders. We don't know what they've been up to; maybe Ethan has been spending his time here because Edward's a working artist."
"He's obviously not working here in the barn," she hissed.
"I know it's upsetting. But let's find out what we can and talk to them before you make any proclamations. Besides, if you're worried about them being here, you can always have June over to your house."
Before she could answer, Edward appeared at the door of the barn. "Found them," he said, and wove back through the debris to where we were standing.
It took two tries to cut the bolt. Edward slipped it off and opened the door.
Inside were several cans of white spray paint and a stack of papers.
"What are those?" Molly asked.
"Looks like flyers of some sort," Edward said. "Something about animal rights?"
"Those are the letters on the barns," I said, taking one from the stack.
Edward blinked at me. "What barns?"
"The ones that have been spray-painted," I said.
"Oh, God," Molly moaned. "They're vandals. That's what they've been doing."
"For a cause, I suspect," I said, handing her a flyer. As Edward and Molly read the flyers, which talked about cruelty to animals and the horrors of feedlots (which I couldn't disagree with), I bent down and peered into the safe. There was a spiral-bound notebook with the letters SAAC in block print on the front. I opened it and found the words SOCIETY AGAINST ANIMAL CRUELTY in block print on the first page.
"Well, at least we know what SAAC stands for," I said. On the next page was a list of local ranches, all of which I knew were of the "factory-farming" approach. Several had been crossed off; I recognized three of them as ranches I knew had been hit with spray paint and animals let out of their pens.
"So that's what they were doing late at night," Molly said.
"Seems so," I said.
"Is that where they are now, then, do you think?"
"I doubt it," I said. "It's still light, and the spray paint is in the safe."
"They could be doing reconnaissance," Edward suggested.
"True. I wish there were some way of figuring out where they could be," Molly said.
"Do you have a map of Buttercup?" I asked.
"Why?" Molly asked.
"Mandy Vargas just did an article on the vandalism around town. There were dates in it; I figured if we had a map and could match up dates and locations, we might be able to figure out where they're going next."
"But we don't know if that's what they're doing," Molly objected.
"We don't," I said, "but they're out there somewhere, and it's the only idea I have."
"I can't argue with that," Edward said. "Come inside and I'll print a map of the area. It's better than any idea I can come up with."
We followed him into the house. Molly still looked worried, but I sensed a bit of relief, too. Social justice warrior seemed to be easier to swallow than vandal. Although I suspected there would still be a conversation about the beer can and the cigarette butts.
Assuming we found them. Which, of course, we would. Right? I glanced over at Edward. Had he killed Eva and Jessie? Were we working together with a murderer?
"There's sparkling water in the fridge," he offered as he opened up his laptop and pulled up a map of Buttercup.
"Thanks," I said. "You want one?"
"Sure," he said, and I grabbed three from his cluttered fridge as he printed up the map.
"I don't know where these ranches are," he said as he peered at the network of roads.
"We do," Molly said, reaching for it. He handed it over to her.
"Can you pull up the Zephyr article?" I asked.
"Sure," he said. His fingers flew across the keyboard; a moment later, the article appeared. He printed it, then handed it to me.
"Okay," I said, taking a sip of fizzy water and studying the article. "The first incident was at Ed Zapp's, with the chickens," I said, "and it was a month ago." I read off the date.
"Got it," Molly said, making an X and a date on the map.
"The second was a week later, at the Froehlichs' place." She marked down that one, as well as the rest of the incidents. When she was done, we took a look at the map.
"They're all pretty close to you," I said, marking Edward's house with an X. "Three on Giddings Road, one on Mueller, and one on Church Road."
"All within a couple of miles of here," Molly said. "It makes sense; neither of them can drive."
"Which means they're probably working alone," I surmised. "And the last incident was about a week ago, so if the pattern fits, they'll likely do another tonight."
"I already called down to the station to tell them I hadn't seen Ethan," Molly said. "Should I tell them about this, too?" she asked.
"If it were anyone but Rooster, I'd say yes. I don't think he'll be much help, and I'd rather find them and talk to them first. Maybe they can make restitution to the ranch owners without getting the police involved."
"That would be good," Molly said. "But what if they're not there? What if someone shoots them? And why isn't Ethan answering his phone?"
"We'll head out now to see if we can find them. In the meantime, keep trying to reach him," I said. "Let's plot the other ranches on this map. We'll go to the ones we think are the issue; if we haven't had any luck, we'll call the police and tell them everything we've put together. Sound like a plan?"
They both agreed, and together we plotted the remaining ranches on the map. There were only four more within what appeared to be walking distance.
"Let's split up," I said.
"I'll go to the Gunthers' ranch," Molly said. "They're friends of ours."
"I know where this one is," Edward volunteered, pointing to a sprawling ranch a little farther out.
"And I'll take Fred Smolak's place," I said. "I've got Molly's number, but Edward, we both need yours."
Once we'd exchanged numbers, we headed out, Molly texting her son one more time.
As I climbed into my truck, I felt a frisson of fear. It took three tries to start it; I'd have to get the starter checked out, but now was not the time. I was pretty sure I was right about where Ethan and June had gone. But I was worried that something very bad had happened.
I put the truck in reverse and hoped I was wrong.
19
Fred Smolak's ranch was only a few miles from Edward's house. Although there was a barbed wire fence, the gate was open—it wouldn't be hard to walk in—with no cameras that I could see. There was a new "For Sale" sign tacked to the fence—the agent, of course, Faith Zapalac. I was surprised; I knew Fred had been in the area for a long time, and it surprised me that after all these years he'd consider moving. Was he giving up the ranch and moving into town? I wondered as I rolled down the driveway, keeping my eyes peeled for any sign of June or Ethan. The outbuildings, which included a few small corrugated metal barns, didn't appear to be tagged by spray paint.
I pulled up to the main house and got out of th
e car, then walked up to the front door. It was a 50s ranch house built with mustard-colored brick. I knocked on the door, but no one answered. I peeked through the door, but nobody was there. I walked around the back of the house. Several black cows grazed in the pasture. I scanned the area, but there was no sign of Ethan and June.
I knocked on the back door, hoping someone would answer, but evidently Fred wasn't home. There was no sign of any life outside of the cows, in fact. Just to be sure, I called out the kids' names. "June! Ethan!"
There was a thump from somewhere.
"Hello?" I called, trying to identify the sound.
Nothing.
"June! Ethan!" I repeated. "Are you there?"
Again, a thumping sound. It wasn't coming from the house; it was coming from one of the outbuildings.
"Is someone there?" I called.
Another thump, a little less loud. It was coming from what looked like an old smokehouse out in the corner; it was built with concrete blocks and sported a rusted, corrugated metal roof. I walked toward it cautiously. Was there an animal trapped inside? Or maybe the kids?
"Is someone in there?" I asked as I got within a few yards of the little building. Now I heard something else... like a muffled voice. Had the kids hidden in the smokehouse and gotten trapped? I wondered. The door was latched on the outside; maybe they'd shut it and were unable to get out.
Cautiously, I lifted the latch on the wooden door and pulled it open.
Two scared teenagers stared back at me from the floor, where someone had trussed them up with duct tape and gagged them with bandannas.
"Oh, lord," I said. "Are you okay?"
June nodded, whites showing around her eyes.
"Let me get you undone," I said. "I'm going to wedge the door open first, though." A few feet from the door was a chunk of limestone. I pulled it over and used it to prop the door open, then hurried over to pull off their gags. Both of them gasped for breath as I busied myself with the duct tape. It wasn't budging.
"I have to go get my pocket knife out of the truck," I said. "I'll be right back."
I hurried to get my Swiss Army knife out of the glove compartment and came back, slicing at the silvery tape. June was first, and she rubbed at her wrists as I pulled off the tape, then recounted what had happened.
"We came over just to look at the place. We didn't do anything wrong. I promise."
"I wasn't saying you did," I reassured her. "What happened while you were here?"
"Well, we were checking out the barn, and two big SUVs came up the driveway, a white one and a black one.
"The black one was a Land Cruiser," Ethan supplied.
I thought of the black SUV I'd seen in the photo of Dottie's house at Edward's. I knew Faith Zapalac had a white Escalade; had they been there together, scoping the place out, when Edward snapped the picture? "What happened next?" I asked.
"Well, we hid behind the barn, of course. These ladies got out of their SUVs. One of them was blonde, and she was talking to the other one about selling the house. And how they paid some guy something to get some paperwork, and that all they needed was a doctor to sign off on something and it was a done deal. There was something about a court date and a judge, but I didn't catch that."
The doctor was Dr. Frederick, no doubt. I was sure he was the person they were using to declare the residents incompetent so they could assign them to a guardian who would sweep in and take over all their financial interests. Jerri Roswell.
"How did you end up in here?" I asked.
June turned to Ethan. "They started toward the barn. Ethan tripped over a rock when we were trying to get out of sight. And then the blonde lady pulled a gun and asked us what we'd heard."
"We told her we didn't hear anything," Ethan broke in. "But she put us in here anyway."
"Has she been back?"
June shook her head. "Not yet."
"How long ago did this happen?"
"Right after school," June said.
"Well," I said, "let's get you out of here before she comes back. Sound like a plan?"
"Yes, please, ma'am, June said, and Ethan nodded vehemently. I finished cutting off the duct tape, and together we headed out toward the truck.
As June and Ethan crowded in beside me, I turned the key in the starter. Nothing happened.
"Shoot," I said, mindful of the teenagers in the truck.
"What's wrong?" June asked, her young voice edged with fear.
"It's not starting," I said. I tried again, but nothing happened. Then I reached for the phone and called Tobias's cell phone. Unfortunately, it went straight to voice mail.
As it beeped and I began to leave a message, June yelped. I turned back to see Faith Zapalac's Escalade bumping up the driveway.
"Tobias, it's Lucy. I'm at Fred Smolak's ranch. Faith Zapalac kidnapped Ethan and June and locked them in a shed here. My truck won't start and she's coming up the driveway. Call the police!"
As I hung up and dialed 911, the Escalade drew closer. After two rings, someone finally answered.
"What is your emergency?"
"I am at Fred Smolak's ranch on Church Road in Buttercup. I rescued two kids from a shed, but their kidnapper is coming back up the driveway now and my truck won't start."
"What is that address again?" the woman asked. As she spoke, the Escalade pulled up behind us and Faith flew out of the driver's seat, a gun in her hand pointed at me.
"Put it down," she barked.
"The address, ma'am?" asked the dispatcher.
"Church Road in Buttercup," I said.
"The number?"
I didn't remember, and it didn't matter.
"Put the phone down now!" Faith barked, her heavily lined eyes wild. As I set the phone on the dashboard, I could still hear the dispatcher. "Ma'am? Ma'am? Are you there, ma'am?"
Unfortunately, so could Faith.
20
"Get out of the car," Faith hissed.
I slowly opened the front door and stepped out. I glanced back at June and Ethan; they were cowering together on the other side of the seat.
"All of you," Faith clarified. They slid out after me, both milk-white.
"What are you going to do to us?" June asked in a quavering voice.
"I haven't decided that yet," she said. "Who were you calling?"
"Tobias," I said. "He didn't answer. I left him a message."
As soon as I spoke, the sound of the dispatcher's voice floated out of the cab of the truck. "Ma'am? Are you there, ma'am?"
"That doesn't sound like a message," Faith said, grabbing my phone. She stabbed at it, hanging up the call, then looking at the screen. "That's 911. So they know where we are. Which means you're coming with me. Let's go," she said, still holding my phone as she waved the gun toward her enormous white SUV. "One kid in the front, one kid in the back," she said. "You're driving, Lucy."
"Where?"
"Shut up and do what I say. Here are the keys," she said, tossing me an enormous key chain with a sparkly poodle attached to it. "Get in the driver's seat. Slowly. Try anything and I'll have to shoot one of these kids."
June yelped. "We didn't mean to do anything, really. We just heard Mr. Smolak was sending some of his cows to a feedlot, and we wanted to see if we could let them out or something."
"I don't care what you were doing," Faith said. "Just be quiet and don't do anything stupid. Now, get in." She herded June to the front passenger seat and Ethan to the back, then got into the back seat of the Escalade, right behind me. "Start the car," she ordered me. I turned the key in the ignition and the Escalade hummed to life, the dashboard lighting up like a Christmas tree.
At her direction, I turned the SUV around and headed back down the driveway. She ordered me to take a left, and for a moment I hoped we were going back to town; surely someone would notice me driving Faith's car with June in the front seat and wonder what was going on. But she didn't turn me toward town. Within ten minutes, we were pulling up into the driveway of Dottie's house.
My heart leaped a little bit; if Tobias came to the house, he'd see Faith's Escalade in the driveway and know where we were. But we didn't stop in the driveway; she had me drive on past the house before stopping. Then she ordered Ethan to go out and open the doors of the big barn tucked in next to the backyard shed. "When you've got it open, go inside and stand at the back wall." My heart sank as he opened the door to expose the empty floor of the barn, and a moment later we—and the Escalade—were out of sight.
"Turn it off," Faith barked.
I briefly considered gunning the engine and crashing the Escalade into the back of the barn, but Ethan was standing right between the white circles of the headlight beams, and when I glanced over my shoulder, Faith had the gun trained on June.
My heart sank as I turned the key in the ignition, and the engine cut off.
"So what are we doing here?" I asked Faith as we sat in the semi-darkness of the barn.
"These kids turned up where they shouldn't have," Faith said.
"We didn't hear anything!" June protested.
"Lucy, what were you doing at Fred Smolak's ranch?" Faith asked me, ignoring the girl.
"I was looking for June and Ethan," I said. I turned to June. "I know what you and Ethan have been up to. I found your notebook, and the spray paint."
"What we did was for a good cause!" she protested, her eyes wide. "We didn't hurt anyone."
"Your parents are worried sick," I said, hoping that I would somehow prick Faith's conscience.
"Stop talking," the real estate agent ordered me, blinking hard. Her hand was tight on the gun. "I'm thinking."
I really didn't want her to think too much. I wanted to distract her, so I could figure out how to get out of there... and give Tobias time to maybe figure out how to track me down.
"Can we talk outside for a moment? I thought we might cut a deal."
She looked at me with interest, and I could tell I was on the right track. "A deal?"
"I need to expand my farm, but I'm short on cash."
The gun dropped a little bit. She turned to me, her eyes calculating. "How much are we talking? The house is already under contract."
"Just a chunk of land," I said. "If I can finance it, I'm willing to pay a premium. Maybe you could talk to the buyer to see if we can work something out?"
Dyeing Season Page 14
