Left Fur Dead

by J. M. Griffin

  “Mm, at the moment, he’s also aware that Andrew Stone is keeping an eye on us. He must be wondering why. I know I am. Andrew did say we’d treated him fairly. Could be he truly wanted to return the favor.”

  “Or, he could have his own agenda. Don’t take him at face value just yet. I’ve told you before he has problems to work through. Let’s not put him on a pedestal just because he said we’re being watched. How do we know he isn’t the watcher?”

  “Valid point. I’ll keep all that in mind as we move forward.” I thought for a moment and then said, “It just occurred to me that I have Arty’s notes to read. Are you all set for the night?”

  “I am, I’ll just sit with you while you see if there’s anything important in them. I promise not to bother you, but I’ll listen if you want to talk about what he wrote.”

  Bun sprawled on the rug near the sofa, saying nothing else. On tiptoes, I went upstairs to retrieve the papers from my dresser drawer. I returned to the living room and nestled under the afghan to read them. Bun lay quiet as a button.

  One line jumped out at me. Startled, I read it again. Surprised by Arty’s words scrawled across the page, I nudged Bun with my toe. Sleepy-eyed, he looked up at me. I said, “Listen to this. ‘I’ve finally confessed that I’m his father, though he thinks I lie.’ Imagine that? Arty does have a family. At least, a son. Who could it be?”

  “Is that it? Nothing more? You woke me for that?”

  Clearly, Bun wasn’t the least bit impressed. Disheartened by his response, I slumped farther into the cushiony sofa. “Maybe I need to go to bed.”

  “Good idea, we’ll talk in the morning.”

  Bun went into his room, snuggled in for the night, and I went upstairs. I’d nearly passed Jessica’s door when she flung it wide and asked, “What’s going on? I heard you go by my room earlier and then return downstairs.”

  Offering her the paper, I yawned and waited until she’d read what Arty wrote. Her eyes round and wide, she handed it back to me.

  “Arty has a son?”

  “Unfortunately for me, I didn’t take the family Bible when I searched his house. A deputy came by and almost caught me. That was the day I returned home filthy, remember?”

  She nodded, then laughed.

  “So, you wish you’d stolen the Bible along with this note?”

  Abashed by my behavior, I stared at the floor and then looked up with a grin. “That about covers it. I should have taken the darned thing. I’ll try again and hope I’m not caught this time, either. I’m afraid I’m not much of a burglar.”

  “True. I’ll tell you what, I’ll help by going with you.”

  “Impossible. What if we were both caught? Then who’d take care of the rabbits? Certainly not Lizzy.”

  Her laughter matched mine over the visual Lizzy and the rabbits presented. Lizzy would never be able to handle poop duty, let alone lift bales of hay. “Come on, I need a break from work and all that’s been happening. A little intrigue is good for the soul, is it not?”

  “I’d rather you didn’t take a risk like that. And, by the way, don’t let the sheriff know.”

  With two fingers, Jessica crossed her heart. “Not one word, I promise.”

  I said I’d see her later and went on my way. Considering how and when I’d tempt fate with this half-baked idea, I worried that someone else had already taken the Bible. Maybe Arty’s son? Was he even local? Who was this man? Like an itch, the need to know irritated me.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Two days later, Jessica drove into town for supplies and to pick up our teenage workers. Alone at the farm, the pleasant solitude didn’t last long. I heard a knock on the barn door and found Andrew standing outside. Wind whipped his shaggy hair to and fro, buffeted his jacket, and accentuated his lean body.

  Though wary of what he wanted, I invited him in. The man rarely showed his face, yet in the last few days, he’d been around quite often. Why? For what purpose? I bit back a sigh at how suspicious I’d become of everyone and everything that happened. My paranoia was becoming an issue, one that I wasn’t happy about.

  I closed the door after he’d come in.

  “I’m surprised to see you, is everything okay at the campsite?”

  Before answering, he scanned the barn, which was more a study of the entire layout, as if he hadn’t experienced the place. “Taking good care of these animals must be hard work.”

  I shrugged. “Worthwhile. Some of the rabbits have been abused by past owners. I took them in and have brought them back to health with Jessica’s help. They’re wonderful, all of them.”

  “I can see that. Your eyes light up when you speak of them. This must be your calling, if you will.”

  I dipped my head in agreement. “I guess you could say that. I found them soothing after I was injured, it was as if we needed each other. Are you here for a reason or is this a social call?”

  “Has the sheriff offered an update on the murder investigation?”

  “Have you been watching us?”

  “I saw his car parked here, that’s all.”

  My disbelief must have shown.

  “It’s true. I was walking through the trees up the road when I saw his car turn into your driveway. You weren’t having trouble, were you?”

  “Not at all. It was a check-in on his part.”

  “You didn’t answer my question. Is there any progress?”

  “He says no, and for the life of me, I can’t come up with one single suspect for Arty’s death, either.” I lied, not because I wanted to, but because I wondered if he’d known Arty.

  “Why the sudden interest?” I leaned against a beam and waited.

  “I can’t help but think your intruder and Arty’s demise are linked to a greater degree than someone merely out to make your life miserable by using the man as a reason to taunt you.”

  “That makes sense, but what does it have to do with you?”

  Pensive for a moment, he looked me squarely in the face and said, “Not a thing.” Idly, he wandered the aisles of cages, his focus on the rabbits, with me not far behind.

  He turned to me. “They are quite calming, aren’t they?”

  I nodded, then walked alongside him. We’d come full circle, standing at the end of a row facing the barn door, when Bun scampered in. He skidded to a halt. “What the heck is he doing here now?”

  “Is there anything else you wanted to know other than information on the sheriff’s investigation?”

  Bun sidled up against my ankle. I couldn’t tell why, though he might have thought Andrew could become aggressive. Again, I had no idea why he’d think that, but there are times when Bun gets weird vibes from people and his imagination takes over.

  “Are you sure that’s all he wants?”

  I glanced down at him, raised a brow, and then turned back to Andrew, who said, “It occurred to me that you have quite a stake in Arty’s death. How far are you willing to go to find his killer?”

  His words gave me pause. Was he aware of my intrusion into Arty’s home? Did he know more than what he’d heard from me and Jessica? If so, how did he come by that knowledge?

  Bun thumped the floor with one foot, and I looked down.

  “Take care, Jules. The man is riddled with discontent. I have no clue why.”

  Andrew’s words disturbed me to no end. “Why would you ask me that? I can’t put myself or the farm at risk.”

  “You’ve been brave enough to take on an intruder.” He shrugged. “I thought you might be willing to search out the people who have been after you and have tried to harm the rabbits. It only makes sense, especially since you’ve already done some sleuthing on your own. From what I saw at the lake the other day, you were eager to find evidence that could lead to the killer.”

  “I suppose you’re right. I believe there’s more than one person involved. The intruder is average in build, even on the slim side. The man who assaulted Bun and me at the park was larger, heavier. Then there was the truck that foll
owed me home one night, he tailgated my car all the way. Made me jumpy, too. I’m not in any hurry to have the same type of accident I had a few years ago.”

  “So, we’re in agreement on more than one man, then? You’re not safe, you know that, don’t you?”

  I stepped away from the cages. “If you think for one minute that I’ll scurry for cover like a frightened mouse, think again. I won’t, even if it’s dangerous for me. While I’m not stupid enough to take on someone bigger than I am, I’m not fearful of doing so, if need be.”

  His grin slight, Andrew nodded.

  By this time, Bun was flustered. He hopped erratically about the open space, until I plucked him off the floor and tucked him under my arm. “Calm down, Bun,” I whispered against his fur.

  “Did it ever come to mind that this man might be the killer? He could be trying to trap you into saying something stupid, like he could be the killer. We are alone, ya know.”

  I smoothed his coat and hoped he’d shut up, but refrained from saying so. As much as I adore Bun, he can get on my nerves by pointing out what might be obvious to others, but not to me. It was possible that Andrew had more at stake than I did. He was lean and tall like the intruder, but did he have anyone to help him? Nah, I was being silly. Surely the man had no connection to what had taken place last year and more recently. I put Bun on the floor and did a mental eye roll at the turn my thoughts had taken.

  “While I mind my own affairs and refrain from interfering with other people’s problems, I’m willing to help you bring the man to justice. If you want, that is. Otherwise, be careful, very careful. With the frequency of his visits, I’d say this person is obsessed with you, the farm, and is intent on getting even for something. Anyone with a reason come to mind?”

  “Not readily, no. I’ve got to get back to work, if you don’t mind. Thanks for the offer to help figure out who’s doing all this to us, though. I appreciate it and will give it some consideration.” Not.

  “Sure. Let me know if you want to look at Arty’s house. A fresh pair of eyes is always a good thing. You have been there, haven’t you?” He smiled, offered a farewell nod, and walked out the door without waiting for an answer.

  Was it obvious to everyone that I’d searched Arty’s house? My confidence took a sudden nosedive when I remembered how I’d nearly been caught. Were the police watching me? Was I certifiably paranoid? I shook my head in disgust.

  “I think he’s got our number, Jules. He knows way more than I’m comfortable with, how about you?”

  “I’m certain he’s been watching us closely. I wonder why?”

  “Me too.”

  “This is probably a crazy idea, but do you think Andrew is Arty’s kinfolk? He’s never offered to assist in any way before, so why now? How would he know we’d been at Arty’s house, unless it was a wild guess on his part, of course?”

  “It’s possible, but why hide it from everyone? He is a conflicted guy, which is why he has withheld that information. It would also make him a suspect, don’t you think? After all, he’d have been estranged from Arty, so why show up now?”

  “Those are all good questions, Bun. Nothing quite adds up when you take it all under consideration. I’m certain everything is somehow connected, I just don’t know how. We’ll take a ride up to Arty’s again, what do you say?”

  “I’m in. When are we going?”

  From the window, I saw Jessica arrive with Ray and Molly in the car. Knowing the teens would help Jess with the remaining chores, as well as unload the supplies, I said, “Now is as good a time as ever.”

  We scurried into the house. I grabbed Bun’s sling and a spring jacket from their hooks and met Jessica at the barn entrance.

  “Bun and I have an errand to run, you’ll be all set here, won’t you?”

  Suspicion crossed her face. “You’re going to Arty’s, aren’t you?” Jess whispered after she’d glanced over her shoulder to see where Ray and Molly were.

  I nodded, stepped past her, and murmured, “We’ll be back soon. If not, you might need to bring bail money to the police station.”

  “See you later, then. Be careful.”

  I greeted the kids with a smile, thanking them for working with Jessica today. Bun popped his head out of the sling and told me to get a move on.

  * * *

  Traffic was heavy. Schools were closed for the day for teacher education meetings, and kids with cars took advantage of their freedom. Impatient with the busy streets, Bun groused about the time it took to reach Arty’s road. He grew calm as we passed his driveway and drove a bit farther around a sharp curve. Edging the car onto a grassy shoulder, I shut down the motor and locked the doors before we got started on yet another home invasion.

  Anxious for freedom, Bun wiggled around and stuck his head out of the sling to view our surroundings. “All is quiet, let’s go.”

  His senses keener than mine, I set off down the slope into the wooded area. Minutes later, we hurried toward Arty’s house. Bun had jumped from the sling and bounded across the yard ahead of me. I reached the side entrance where he anxiously awaited me.

  “Honestly, you need to be faster than that. What if someone saw you?”

  This from the rabbit who complained about how fast I ran, and how he was bounced around like a sack of potatoes.

  “Relax, will ya?” I reached up, found the key on the eave ledge, and let us into the house, once again.

  “I’ll look down here, you check upstairs. If you hear a car or footsteps, let me know.”

  Bun turned toward the staircase and then was gone. I gave the kitchen a quick once-over, moved on into the living room, and found nothing of use there. I finally entered Arty’s bedroom. The dresser had one thing missing, the one thing I was after. The Bible was gone. Who had it, and why? Miffed over my stupidity in not having taken it on my previous visit, I grumbled over it.

  “Jules, Jules, I found something.”

  I took the steps two at a time, reaching the landing to find Bun excitedly hopping about.

  I chuckled at the sight of him. “It must be something good, because you only act this way when you’ve hit the jackpot. Show me.”

  Racing into the room on my right, Bun called for me to follow. When I stepped inside, I saw his stance being close to that of a pointer when finding a flock of birds. I leaned down to see what was so important.

  Underneath the bed, sitting in a fine layer of dust, was a hand-painted tin document box. I dragged the rectangular-shaped, beautifully painted box from its hiding place. The box was locked. After digging into my jeans pocket for the key we’d found at the lake, I stuck the key into the lock and gave it a turn. One click, then two, and then three clicks. The spring-loaded lock popped open. I was careful to be gentle when I lifted the lid. The box appeared very old and frail. The other option was that it was booby-trapped, and who knew what that would produce?

  The lid leaned back, nearly flat, and offered up nothing. Other than dust that showed something oblong had lain in a spot at the back side of the interior, the box held nothing. Disappointment fell over me as would a heavy cloak. I sat back on my knees and closed the lid.

  Scrambling around under the bed, Bun sneezed and then returned with an envelope hanging from his mouth. He tried to release the letter, but his sharp front teeth had pierced the paper, causing it to dangle. I worked it free, gave a cursory glance, and tucked it into my pocket, then told Bun of my fruitless search of the box and for the Bible.

  “Have you given the other rooms a look?”

  I nodded. “Come on, let’s get out of here before somebody finds us.”

  On the first floor, we took a second look around. Satisfied we’d given it our best search, Bun and I trekked back the way we’d come. Nearing the slope, Bun stopped short, and his ears twitched as madly as his whiskers.

  I scooched next to him, my nerves grew tense as a taut wire. “What’s wrong?”

  “Somebody is at the car. What are we gonna do now? We can’t sit here foreve
r, I’m getting hungry.”

  I touched his fur, ran my fingers over the softness of it, and smoothed his coat. His tension released, Bun snuggled against me. I whispered, “Stay here, I’ll find a place for us to hide.”

  “Uh, okay. Don’t be long. Whoever’s up there might come this way and catch me for his supper.”

  In an instant, his anxiety had returned. Dang, Bun becomes unpredictable when that happens, which is annoying at best. I tiptoed away from the slope, toward a cluster of scrubby bushes that would barely give us cover, yet allow me to see who was on the road above. Crouched to the ground as close as I could get, I beckoned Bun and watched until he reached the safety of our hideaway.

  A man’s angry voice was audible. I held my breath and listened, then gently parted a cluster of bush branches a little to peer at a man dressed in a hooded sweatshirt and jeans. The sweatshirt hood shrouded his entire head. His back was turned toward us while he spoke on his cell phone. Plainly he was slim and tall, very much like our intruder.

  His argument ended, he slipped the phone into his jeans pocket and raised his hands, then peered through my car windows. Finished with scrutinizing the car, he studied the road in both directions, but still, his complete face was hidden from view. Hastily, I withdrew my hands from the parted bushes, allowing them to hide us from his view.

  A few seconds later, he stumbled down the slope, no more than thirty feet away from us. Frozen in place, I held my breath and hugged Bun close, not moving a muscle. Eager to get a look at the hooded face, I watched his descent. Once he was gone, Bun and I scrambled up the slope, into the car, and sped away. If the man had heard the engine, I didn’t know or care. Frustrated because I hadn’t been able to see his face, I wanted to get as far from him, as fast as I could.

  Our trip home was quicker than the length of time it had taken us to get to Arty’s. I wasted no time in traffic, took a few shortcuts, and arrived safely. The chores finished, the students were gone, and lunch was on the table. How Jess knew we’d be back so soon was a good guess on her part.

  “What did you find?” Jess demanded as she sliced bread.