Till the Cat Lady Sings (Bought-the-Farm Mystery 4)

by Ellen Riggs

  “What I meant to say is that I was grateful we didn’t know because we’ve had the most marvellous time here with you and Jilly. You’re wonderful hosts and I promise we’ll be referring you far and wide.”

  “Whew!” I said, forcing a grin. “You had me worried there for a second.”

  “My only reservation is the dog,” she said, looking down.

  “The dog?” My eyes dropped, too, and I saw Keats had positioned himself between us. His ruff was up, his ears back and his tail stood straight out. “Oh. That. He must hear a coyote. He’s been jumpy all day.”

  “It’s not just today,” Caroline said. “Every day he follows me around on tiptoes. He blocks me in rooms and he won’t let me get anywhere near Jilly when you’re not home. We were just laughing about it yesterday.”

  “He hasn’t been himself lately. I even had the vet check him out, but I’ll take him again tomorrow. Maybe there’s a thorn in his paw or something. He was limping earlier on our walk.”

  I didn’t call Keats off, though. I knew exactly why he was behaving like that. And it meant I needed help. Fast.

  Scooping a generous shovelful of manure, I pulled back and flung it. Not close enough to hit Caroline but sufficiently close to surprise her. She ducked back into the barn and called, “Ivy, watch it. I have dinner plans.”

  “Sorry! Accident!” I glanced at Percy, who stood on the manure steps with his back arched and tail puffed. “Get help, Percy, please,” I hissed. For once, the cat took a direct order and disappeared into the darkness on stealthy paws.

  Jilly should be back by now. Michael’s change of plans allowed her to come home early, while he went to collect Hazel from Sunny Acres. Reaching into my pocket I was relieved to find my phone. I only had time to hit the record button before Caroline reappeared.

  “What was that about?” she asked. “It was like you had a spasm.”

  With the spade firmly in hand, I came down my stairway to heaven. “Again, I’m so sorry, Caroline. I’ve had an exhausting day and obviously need to pack it in.”

  She came through the doorway right into the yard. Now she was carrying the pig poker—the long wooden pole with the iron hook on the end that Charlie and I used to redirect unruly livestock, especially Wilma the pig.

  “You hit me, I hit you,” she said, still smiling.

  I laughed. “No more manure, Caroline, I promise.”

  “That’s a promise you can’t keep, Ivy. You live for manure.”

  There was a shift in the atmosphere, like an electrical storm rolling in. The hair on my arms and the back of my neck rose.

  “Jilly says the same thing,” I said. “I come here to work out my frustrations, and it’s turned into a strange love affair.”

  “A love affair with manure. That really is strange.” She came another few steps toward me. “It won’t take you anywhere good, Ivy. In fact, it won’t take you anywhere but under. And what a sad way to go.”

  “Caroline.” I tipped my head. “What a strange thing to say. Are you okay?”

  “No, I am not okay. I’m in very deep trouble because of you.”

  “Me! What have I done, other than offer the finest hospitality in hill country?”

  “You stuck your nose in where it didn’t belong, Ivy. And that can only be because you’ve destroyed your sense of smell by spending too much time out here.”

  Keats was still puffed, still providing a fur barrier between us. I wanted to call him off, though, because she might very well knock him out of the way to get to me. She already had a hate on for him and one wrong move would be all it took for her to swing.

  “You’re right,” I said, knowing those words could work like magic on the most deranged individual, and it was starting to look like Caroline was exactly that. “I have gotten myself into trouble over and over lately. It all started with the head injury from saving Keats. Did you know—”

  “Jilly told me. She said Keats dug up a skull in his owner’s backyard and you confronted the killer with it. I don’t know whether to call you brave or stupid.”

  I pretended to think about it. “Stupid. I own it. That wasn’t my smartest decision.”

  “And yet it paid off for you. Big time. Look at what just fell in your lap.” She waved her hand in the direction of the inn. “Some girls have all the luck.”

  “What do you mean? You and Michael have a wonderful life. Hazel says you’re two perfectly matched rolling stones without a care in the world.”

  “Hazel doesn’t know that Michael’s never been good with money. So when she offered the manor to him years ago, he let pride stand in his way, assuming it would come to him down the road anyway. But then she gave it to that disgusting cat lady. I couldn’t believe it.”

  “Oh, poor Michael,” I said. “He must have been hurt.”

  “Not Michael,” she said. “He doesn’t take things to heart like that. He loves his aunt even though she burned him for trash. That man doesn’t have a bad bone in his body.”

  “He doesn’t need to, I guess. He’s got you to look out for him.”

  She nodded. “It’s been that way since college. I saw his potential. He’s bright, he’s charming, and so soft-hearted. What I didn’t realize was that he’d give away the farm to anyone in need, leaving us in need ourselves. I always held down a good job, but it wasn’t enough. Anyone who came with hand outstretched got it filled by Michael.”

  “That must have been so frustrating. Working so hard and seeing it frittered away. Even for good causes.”

  “They weren’t always good causes. People exploited him. Took from him. Took from us.”

  I gradually moved around the manure mound, signaling Keats to stay with me. The goal was to get the pile between us, so that if she struck she’d hit poop. Though I could most certainly outrun those heels, I would not leave her armed and dangerous with my livestock.

  All I could do was keep her talking till help arrived. Granted, it was taking longer for that to happen than I’d hoped. I should have given the job to Keats. Cats were unreliable.

  “So what happened after Hazel gave the Bingham manor to Portia Parson?” I asked. “You stayed on good terms, so you must not have raised a fuss.”

  “I kept my mouth shut, like I always do. But I went to talk to Portia about doing the right thing.”

  “Giving the property to Michael?”

  “Exactly. But she wouldn’t do it. She said Hazel wanted her to have it and it was her responsibility to care for the place and the cats.” She tapped the wooden end of the pig pole on the spongy dirt. “That woman is obnoxious.”

  “Was,” I said. “She’s gone now. The way is clear for you to take over the house. All you need to do is talk to Hazel. Ownership is reverting to her.”

  Caroline’s eyes lit up for a second. “That’s what I hoped. She never discusses it.”

  “She wants it to stay in the family. It sounds like a win-win to me.”

  “Except for one thing,” Caroline said. “You.”

  “Me? How am I in the way?”

  “You know too much, that’s how.” She held up her phone. “I saw you climbing in the tree house today. You stuffed my camera down your bra, but there’s another one you didn’t find.”

  “Ah. So one of the cameras at Portia’s was yours. But what’s the problem?”

  “The problem is your stupid dog. He dug up Aaron.”

  “So it was Aaron! How did he end up under the rose bush?”

  She stared at me for a second and then shrugged. “I pushed him out of the tree house, that’s how.”

  The blatant admission startled me enough that my heart, already racing, kicked into overdrive. I was going to have to be extremely careful in how I handled Caroline if I wanted to buy more time. And I desperately wanted to buy more time. The best way to do that, I figured, was to act nonchalant in a dire situation. Fortunately, I’d had plenty of practice.

  “So… Aaron wasn’t as sweet as Hazel and Michael said?” I asked.


  “Far from it. I barely said a word to him when Michael brought me home in college, but Aaron seemed to hate me on sight. Like your dog. He was just around all the time, watching me. He even tried to talk Michael out of marrying me, which luckily didn’t work. You know what Aaron gave us as a wedding present? A teakettle. A stupid, leaky teakettle. Meanwhile he was sitting on a ton of money because of his collectibles. Michael’s credit was already so poor we couldn’t even think about buying a house without help. So I swallowed my pride and asked Aaron on our next visit if he’d lend us some money. He said no, without even batting an eye. Meanwhile he was pouring thousands into ugly toy circus animals. Selling just two of them could have given us a down payment.”

  “How did Michael take it?” I asked.

  She shook her head, lost in the past. “He never knew. Never will know. The day it happened he’d gone to a family reunion for the weekend with his mom and Hazel. I had a headache, and Aaron certainly made it worse. I tried to prove there were no hard feelings by asking him to show me how he built the tree house. Up we went and then—Oops! Over he went. It was easier than I expected. I already had the hole dug, and then I made it look like he’d gone off on his own trip. It was all perfect except for one thing…”

  “And that was…?” Despite the circumstances, I truly was on the edge of my seat.

  “I couldn’t find his collection. It had been on display in his room before and now it wasn’t. I searched high and low before the others got back and nothing. Hazel knew and she’d never say. So every time we visited over all those years, I’d send the two of them out for a nice dinner and search the house. When I heard she’d sold them off, I was furious. That fortune was meant to be Michael’s. The collection was worth more than the old house and the land it’s built on.”

  She closed her eyes for a second and I took a few more steps.

  “But some pieces are still around,” I said. “You must know that.”

  “Yeah.” She advanced again. “Portia thought she’d get in good with the old lady by buying some of them back. She was always borrowing money and searching. Gradually she collected some of Aaron’s favorites.”

  “Hazel never knew, I assume.”

  Caroline shook her head. “I visited Portia about six months ago, after I heard from other collectors what she was doing. I told her I wanted to buy a piece from her, as a family heirloom for Michael. She refused to sell. It was going to be a surprise for Hazel.”

  “So you started harassing her. Making her so nervous she looked crazy.”

  “Indirectly. I have a local connection who’d drop by and poke around when she was out.” Caroline shrugged. “You can buy anything online these days. Collectibles and thugs.”

  “But he couldn’t find the art either.”

  “Not until Portia got so rattled with her cat hoarding that she decided to move the pieces out of the manor. At your mother’s salon launch, I saw Portia go downstairs. My hired hand had connections with Robbi Ford and he knew she used to offer storage for a price. So we staked Portia out 24/7 until she made the move. I was grateful to you and your crazy family for not only flushing out the valuables, but picking a fight with Portia, too.”

  “Glad we could help. Crazy comes in handy sometimes.”

  “Doesn’t it? There was enough to go around, because Portia was falling apart. Getting sloppy. When I followed her to the salon, she left the door unlocked and I went downstairs after her. I had her trapped but she’d already stashed the stuff. We were arguing when your Mom came in and started clomping around upstairs. Portia was in a bind too, having let herself in, and she wasn’t thinking straight. I thought she’d fight like a wild cat but she went down in an instant.”

  “Your embroidery scissors?” I asked.

  “They’re a good deal at the hardware store in town,” she said. “Everyone has them.”

  Her smile was wide and uncomfortably familiar. I’d seen madwomen before, unfortunately.

  “But how did you get out? There’s no exit.”

  “You kept your mom nicely distracted talking about rats and quality tissues, and I managed to let myself out. Took Portia’s key with me so that I could come back. You and that mutt beat me by a few minutes. And now your boyfriend has the art. Our art. Michael deserves that.”

  “Your shoes squeak, you know,” I said. “I noticed it at the salon, and when you were pacing the other night.”

  “So what?” she said. “There are more pressing matters on my mind. Like how best to get rid of you. I’m afraid you won’t topple as easily as Aaron or Portia.”

  “I dunno. I’m pretty tired,” I said. “Walking into the police station with Aaron’s femur took its toll.”

  She actually laughed. “I bet. And you sure beat it off the Bingham property fast. It would have been funny if it weren’t so infuriating to watch the footage on my phone.”

  “I gather you were driving my own golf cart to take me out?”

  “Missed you by minutes again. You’re one lucky farmer, Ivy.”

  “Looks like my luck’s run out.” I flicked my fingers at Keats to get out of the way. “You’ve got me now.”

  “That I do.” Caroline hauled back the pig poker and got ready to swing.

  Over my pounding heart, I heard a steady drone. Help was on the way. Hopefully Caroline was too full of rage to hear it, too.

  I dodged around the manure pile and she came after me. She was stronger and more agile than she looked, but I had pipes now, and a spade that would do the trick if it had to.

  “You don’t deserve to lie under a rosebush,” I said, taunting her now. “I’ve got something more fitting in mind. Did you know manure explodes if it isn’t turned regularly?”

  “Did you know I’m going to kill your dog first?” she said. “Because I bet that’ll hurt way more than dying yourself.”

  Keats ran up the manure pile and stood at the top. It was too high for Caroline to get a proper swing at him. He crouched, ready to launch, but I yelled, “Keats, no.”

  By this time, Caroline had started up my stairway to heaven. Keats leapt off the other side, and when she turned there was a sudden bang. And then more. Bang bang bang.

  Caroline collapsed in a heap on top of the manure.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Don’t stand there gaping, you fool. Get some rope.”

  Edna Evans emerged from the bushes wearing camouflage fatigues. She rushed up the manure stairway and planted a boot on Caroline’s chest, like a poacher with a big game kill.

  “Edna, she’s—”

  “Unconscious. Rubber bullets, Ivy. Now get a move on it.”

  I started running for the truck and then remembered Kellan had sent me home with one of the female officers, whose attitude had definitely changed by that point. She checked the place out and told me to lock myself inside till Kellan arrived later. Little did he know he was sending me right into the lion’s den.

  Keats herded me to the barn, where I found plenty of rope. By that time, Caroline was already stirring. As I came through the back door, she sat up suddenly and grabbed Edna’s boot. Edna fell backward on the manure. Keats finally had a clear shot and launched himself at Caroline. He seized her ear at the same moment a flare of orange fur arched over the pile and onto her head. She screamed and floundered in the dung, unable to get her footing to rise.

  “Off, boys, off!”

  I had the pig poker now but I couldn’t swing while my pets or Edna were in the way. Both animals released at the same moment and bounded away. I started to swing, but Edna beat me to the punch. There was a brief, staticky sound, another scream from Caroline, and she toppled right down the mound in a heap.

  Edna managed to right herself quickly but I was ahead of her with the rope. I coiled it around Caroline till she was trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey.

  “Did you just tase her?” I asked Edna, as she helped me tie off the rope.

  “Sure,” she said. “I have pepper spray, too.”

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nbsp; “What about the crossbow you told me about?” I asked, shaking my head.

  “Couldn’t risk taking down a llama.” She chuckled. “Don’t think it hasn’t crossed my mind, though. Nasty creatures.”

  “You called the cops, right?”

  She tipped her head in the direction of sirens. “As soon as Red showed up in my living room window. He was howling his head off, so I got out the night goggles and saw what was happening here.”

  “Percy,” I corrected. “I notice you took time to slip into your fatigues.”

  “You were holding your own,” she said. “And I’m over eighty, in case you hadn’t noticed. I need more help than a spade. But I knew I’d make good time with my new ATV. Just arrived today.”

  “You are something else, Edna. Seriously.” I thought about hugging her and decided against it. “Thank you.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “I had no idea how invigorating being a vigilante could be.”

  “Let’s hope it’s the last time,” I said, as half a dozen police cars pulled in.

  “Let’s not,” she said, with a bright smile.

  I’d never seen a smile like that on her face before. She looked years younger and I finally believed her old suitor, who’d said Edna could stop a clock in her day.

  “I’m going to volunteer with that Rescue Mafia,” she added. “Cori Hogan and I had a chat earlier.”

  The first wave of cops ran around and through the barn, with Kellan and Asher in the lead. Michael Bingham was right behind them and I couldn’t bear seeing the heartbroken expression on his face.

  “Let’s go up to the house, Edna,” I said, snapping my fingers for Keats and Percy. “There’s whiskey there waiting for both of us.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “I’m sorry,” Kellan said, joining me on the porch a couple of hours later. He wanted to sit down on the swing but I kept pushing off and letting go, pushing off and letting go. Keats stayed with me and Percy was on the railing. Edna was inside by the fire with Jilly and Asher.