The Farmer's Slaughter (A Harley and Davidson Mystery Book 1)

by Liliana Hart

  “Yeah, people are naturally drawn to me. It’s how I’ve snagged four husbands. I should’ve stuck with number two. He was loaded. But I do miss my Jim. Nobody loved me like he did.”

  “I bet your friends were jealous of your relationship with the pastor,” Agatha said.

  Rhonda hmmphed and said, “Of course they were. They were jealous of anything one of us had that the other didn’t. We all secretly hated each other. But it was better to keep our enemies close, if you know what I’m saying.”

  “Sure do, girlfriend.” Agatha spurred her on.

  “My Jim was special. He had a gift to reach girls in need. Girls like me. But I was his special angel. That’s what he told me. I wasn’t supposed to worry about the other girls he was trying to heal because I was his true love.”

  Hank felt a pang of sympathy for the girl, and it just reinforced his belief that justice had been served to Jim in prison.

  “And then those men came and tried to take Jim away, and I tried my best to protect him. To tell them it was okay what he was doing. But those other girls had it in for him. Jim told me that the world of evil would come against our special love. He was right.”

  “I admire a woman who is willing to stand up and fight for her man,” Agatha said. “Even if that meant fighting friends who were supposed to have your back.”

  Agatha had connected with Rhonda immediately, so Hank stood back and let her handle it.

  “I’ve always said it was us against the world. I don’t care what the court says. It ain’t nobody’s business what we do when we’re naked.”

  Agatha swallowed and her eyes were as big as saucers. Rhonda really did belong on a reality show.

  “Do you mind if we sit in your nice yard chairs?” Agatha asked. “I need to ask you some real important questions.”

  “How much you gonna pay me?”

  Agatha dug in her purse and came up with a twenty.

  “That’s a start,” Rhonda said, snatching the twenty and shoving it into her bra. “Have a seat.”

  Agatha sat in the pink plastic lawn chair and Rhonda took the green one next to it. Hank leaned against the hood of the car.

  “What you wanna ask?” Rhonda said.

  “Do you think it’s possible any of the other girls loved Jim like you did?”

  “Oh, sure. They all did. How could they not. He was so gentle and kind.”

  “What about Jim? Do you think he loved anyone besides you?”

  Rhonda stared at a space just beyond Agatha’s head. She was a damaged woman. Far past the point of repair.

  “He loved Jesus,” she said.

  “What about Nicole Green? Did he love her?”

  Rhonda exploded from the chair, knocking it backward. “What are you talking about? Who told you that? That evil little witch is a liar and a slut. I’m glad she’s dead. My Jim said she was just making stuff up because she was jealous of us.”

  “I don’t mean to upset you,” Agatha said. “I believe you.”

  “You do?”

  “Of course, I do.” Agatha pulled out another twenty and gave it to her. “But I need to talk about Nicole for a minute. Did you know Nicole was pregnant too?”

  “I…well…maybe she was. But who cares? That wasn’t my Jim’s baby. It was Ty’s. He loved her, but she kept rejecting him because she wanted what Jim and I had. But my Jim was just trying to heal her.”

  “Ty loved her?” Agatha asked quietly.

  “Oh yes. More than anything in high school. Even more than 4-H.”

  “Do you think Ty knew about Jim and Nicole?”

  “Of course he knew,” she said, a hardness coming into her eyes that made Agatha shiver.

  “How did he know?” she asked.

  “Ty was my friend. I had to tell him. But he didn’t understand what they were doing. That it was innocent.”

  “Exactly what did you tell Ty?”

  “I might have let it slip where Jim and Nicole were planning to meet. Jim told me he was going to explain to her that she had to stop loving him the way I did.”

  Rhonda’s voice switched to a distant, childlike cadence. Agatha knew her mind had reverted to the past. Rhonda was stuck in a cycle of trauma, loss, and guilt. And Agatha knew it wouldn’t be long before she shut down completely.

  “Did Ty find her?”

  Rhonda buried her face in her open hands. Sobs shook her body. Hank stepped in at that point and handed her a handkerchief.

  “Rhonda, you’re a good mom,” he said soothingly, “And we know you have a big heart when it comes to love and looking out for your friends. You’re the protector of your family and you tried to safeguard Jim and Ty.”

  Rhonda sniffled and said, “Yeah, I was always having to take care of everybody else. Who was there to take care of me?”

  “Where did you tell Ty he could find Nicole and Jim?” Hank asked in a whisper.

  “They liked to meet at the pond on her daddy’s farm. I used to follow him out there without them knowing I was in them woods. It was always in the same spot, so I knew exactly how to tell Ty to sneak up on them like I used to do.”

  “Did Ty kill Nicole?” Hank asked.

  Rhonda shook her head fiercely. “She was a whore. It served her right.”

  “Did you see who killed her?” Hank asked.

  “Tell us who did it,” Agatha said.

  “Ty.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The Taco and Waffle was mostly empty at four o’clock, and it was about as private as they were going to get for this particular meeting. Agatha wasn’t a hundred percent convinced Coil was completely on the up and up, but Hank trusted him, and Hank told her to trust his instincts because they’d never been wrong.

  “Thanks for meeting us like this,” Hank said to Coil as they waited for their table.

  The hostess led the three of them to a table at the back of the restaurant.

  “It’s a slow day,” Coil said, grinning. “Besides, I’ve known you a long time. I figured it was only a matter of time before you had something to tell me about that case.”

  Hank and Coil took the two seats that faced the front of the restaurant and Agatha sat across from them. She held the report from her computer in her hand.

  “So what did you and Nancy Drew come up with?” Coil asked. “You’re thinking I’m going to get burned with whatever you found in that report?”

  “I sure hope not. But you’re the sheriff and we trust you with the information.”

  “You know what my position is going to be on this, Hank. This is my agency, and no matter what it involves, I’m the one responsible. I’ll always do what is right.”

  “I know. That’s why we’re friends.” Hank took the file from Agatha and put it on the table. “When I started looking over the case files yesterday, I noticed someone had cut off the page numbers of one of the reports and photocopied it a second time to cover it up before giving it to Agatha. Someone didn’t want Agatha to see whatever was in those reports. I got a chance to read the full report again, and I’ll tell you that Lieutenant Earls did an outstanding job. Except I think he got too fixated on Walter Green as a suspect.”

  Coil blinked. “I’ll agree with you on that. Personally, I think Earls wanted it to be Walter. There wasn’t much good blood between them two.”

  “Here’s where I’m going to apologize for duping you last night to get another copy of the report. We needed to not only see if the page numbers were missing, but what if anything inside the original report was changed from the one given us. Someone took great pains to substitute one page from the original. Because of that, they had to recreate a large portion of the rest of the report that followed the alteration,” Hank said.

  “Show me,” Coil said, putting his hand on the file and pulling it toward him.

  Hank let it go. It was the property of the sheriff’s office after all.

  “I hated to close that case without solving it,” Coil said. “But there wasn’t a choice. There were no
more leads and no more resources. So I stuck it in a drawer and didn’t touch it again until you asked for it, Agatha.”

  Hank watched as Coil opened the file, and he waited for his reaction. Agatha had marked the sections he needed to look at with a yellow highlighter.

  “This doesn’t make sense. What am I missing?”

  “Look at the names,” Hank said.

  “All I can see is that the name Ty Lee is missing from the copy Agatha was given. He’s listed as an associate of Nicole’s, but not as a suspect. What’s the significance, and why go through the trouble of recreating an entire page?”

  “Aggie?” Hank deferred to her.

  “Ty Lee’s mother, Kim Lee, works for you,” she said. “Right after Nicole’s death, Ty applied to have his name legally changed to match his father’s surname of Gunn. And now, Tyler Gunn works for you also.”

  Coil’s mouth dropped open. “What? But why?”

  “Easy,” Agatha said. “Tyler was in love with Nicole, but she was sleeping with the same youth pastor that had knocked up Rhonda Mitchell. You convicted him of Rhonda’s molestation, but you didn’t know about Nicole. Of course, Rhonda knew about their affair, and was all too happy to tell Tyler where to find Nicole and the pastor in the woods. She set them up.

  “Tyler showed up at the pond just in time to witness their afternoon devotional, and Rhonda admits she was hiding in the woods watching the whole thing. Tyler went into a jealous rage, but he waited until the pastor left. And then he killed Nicole. He bashed her right in the head with the butt of his rifle.”

  Coil went pale and then color flooded into his cheeks. Hank knew he was furious. “This is unbelievable.”

  “Y’all did everything you could with what you had to work with. Lieutenant Earls covered the facts as y’all knew, but no one suspected that you had a rat on the inside. In the police report, Tyler’s mom gave him his alibi. That’s why he was never considered a suspect. She covered for him all along.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Coil said. “Tyler and my chain-smoking secretary are about to find out what the inside of a cell looks like. I’ll get with the county prosecutors about bringing charges against both of them. Rhonda too for not telling us she’d been a witness.”

  “If you would, you might reconsider that one,” Agatha said. “She’s a mess, and she’s been through enough. It might do better if you order her to have weekly psych evaluations and get whatever meds she needs. She needs help. And she’s got all those kids.”

  “If I can make a suggestion,” Hank said.

  “Might as well. This is your case now,” Coil said. “What do you suggest?”

  “That Aggie and I take this file back to your office tomorrow morning and give it back to her. Kim is going to know the second she sees it. She’ll break easy enough. Once we have her confession you’ll have enough to get an arrest warrant for Tyler.”

  Coil didn’t take long to think about it. “That’ll work. Kim takes her days off on Sunday and Monday, so she’s always in the office on Saturday.”

  “Are the cameras at the station working?” Agatha asked.

  “Yep. We’ll make sure we’ve got a good recording.”

  “That settles it then,” Hank said. “We’ll see you at nine in the morning.

  “Karl will be on duty,” Coil said. “He’ll let you in. It’ll be easier if I’m not there for Kim to cling to.”

  It was eight thirty the next morning, and as agreed, Agatha picked up Hank to drive him to the Bell County sheriff’s office. Impatiently, she honked the horn once more. She knew Hank was probably moving slow that morning after having been up until about two o’clock rereading reports and making sure everything was correct. She was a bit groggy herself but feeling a whole lot better than she had the night before.

  Hank wore a pressed pair of khaki slacks and a navy-blue polo. She recognized that he was going for a semi-official but relatable look. She was happy he’d retired his retirement clothes.

  “Good morning, Aggie,” Hank said, getting into the car.

  “Morning, partner. You okay? You look a little tense.”

  “I never relax until it’s done. Completely done. Let’s keep our guard up. There’s still an armed and trained deputy who’s been accused of murder on the loose.”

  That stark reminder reset her focus. They weren’t going to pick up a blue ribbon, they were going to fight for justice. She nodded and drove them into town.

  The Bell County sheriff’s office was at the very end of Main Street. The single-story building had four parking spots across the front. Two for deputies, one for a guest, and one with the name Kim Lee. Her silver Buick Oldsmobile sat parked there as it always did.

  “This is going to be hard. She was friends with my mom,” Agatha said.

  “I’m sorry,” was all he could say.

  They walked in, and Karl was waiting as assigned. He was serious and looked more mature in his pressed deputy’s uniform. The six-point star was pinned proudly on his chest

  His duty was to remain close by in the event that Tyler stopped in. Other than that, he wasn’t to sit directly in on the meeting. Someone had to keep up with phone calls to the switchboard while Agatha and Hank met with Kim in the small conference room.

  “Hi there, Kim,” Agatha said.

  “Oh, hello, Agatha. You back again so soon?” Kim’s hands shook as she smashed out a cigarette butt in her overflow ashtray.

  “Yes, ma’am. We came by to speak with you.”

  Kim peeked at Coil’s door, but it was still locked.

  “We’d like to see just you. Not Sheriff Coil.” Hank interjected a sense of authority to make sure Kim’s attempt at familiar sympathy wasn’t successful on Agatha.

  Kim fiddled with the phone. “I’m really busy today. Could you come back later? Maybe schedule an appointment.”

  “Karl will take your place while you’re on break,” Agatha said.

  Kim looked at Karl nervously and then back at Hank and Agatha. She was in her late fifties, and she’d gone slightly plump with age. Her dark brown hair was teased around her head like a football helmet.

  Agatha and Hank followed Kim into the small room. It was maybe ten by ten, but the closeness worked to their advantage. Agatha blinked at Hank and he nodded for her to go forward.

  “Now Kim,” she said, “this isn’t going to be easy for any of us, but we feel enough time has passed and the truth needs to come out. Justice needs to be served.”

  “I’m confused.” Kim tapped her fingers on her leg nervously.

  “I can help with that,” she said. Agatha spread both reports on the table.

  Kim’s eyes blinked rapidly as tears formed in the corners of them. She was no hardened criminal who needed to be broken. She was a broken mother who’d tried to save her son.

  Agatha waited for her to compose herself. But Kim didn’t deny any of it. She didn’t proclaim her innocence or try to run. She just looked…defeated.

  “Why?” Agatha asked softly.

  “He’s my boy. My only child,” Kim said, shrugging. “I never knew for sure if he killed her, but I suspected. There was blood on the butt of his rifle, and he was gone that day. I knew they’d take him away and lock him up. He was all I had left. So I told Tyler it’d be simpler all around if he let me handle it and said we were both home together. So I handled it.”

  “Do you know why he killed her?” Hank asked.

  “We never spoke of what happened,” she said, staring blankly at them. “After they closed the case we just pretended like it never happened. Like he never knew her.” She folded and unfolded an old napkin. “He’s my son. My only child.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Agatha said softly. “We know.”

  “What’s going to happen to my baby?” There was still a hopeful look in her eyes that was devastating to see.

  “Sheriff Coil and the Texas Rangers are bringing him in,” Hank said. “The best thing he can do is cooperate and do the right thing.”


  Kim nodded and the tears she was trying to hold back started to fall. “I did the best I could,” she said, sobbing softly. “It was just the two of us and I did my best. But I guess my best wasn’t good enough.”

  Epilogue

  There was a restlessness in Hank’s spirit, even more so than usual. Law enforcement was in his blood. But just because he retired didn’t mean his thirst for it would go away. No, it had been time to let it go. It was a younger man’s game. But there were other things he could do. Agatha had helped him realize that. His instincts and expertise were too valuable to let go to waste.

  The morning breeze was beginning to fade, and the heat was creeping in as the sun rose higher in the sky. He’d lost track of the time and was enjoying the solitude—enjoying letting his mind consider the possibilities.

  The birds were playing in the birdbath he’d set up in the shade, and he propped his legs up on the ottoman, relaxing against the cushioned wicker chair. He analyzed his choice of pajama pants—the soft cotton plaid in red and gray—and he decided Agatha would deem them retirement-worthy.

  Hank froze when he heard footsteps shuffling through the grass and the snap of a twig. He didn’t move from his chair, but he grabbed his Glock and held it casually in his lap, waiting for whoever was at his gate to announce themselves.

  “You back here, Hank?” Coil called out. “I tried the door, but nobody answered.”

  “I’m here,” he said. “Come on back.”

  Coil opened the wooden gate and came into Hank’s sanctuary. And then he saw the gun and grinned.

  “Don’t shoot. I’d hate to have to explain it to my wife.”

  Hank smiled in return and put the gun back on the bench where he’d taken it from.

  “Help yourself to a drink,” Hank said, pointing to the outdoor mini fridge. It was stocked with water and diet sodas. “Or I’ve got coffee in the house.”

  “I’m good with water,” Coil said, grabbing one and taking the seat across from Hank.

  “You’re out early for a Sunday morning,” Hank said. “I thought you took Sundays off?”