Left Fur Dead

by J. M. Griffin

  “Done for the day?”

  “With appointments, yes. I’m giving Molly a ride home before I pick up the medications I need for Mrs. Trumble’s bulldog and run a few errands. Do you need anything? I can pick it up on my way back later.”

  “We’re all set, thanks. Will you be back for dinner?”

  “No, don’t hold dinner for me. I’ll grab something while I’m out.”

  She buttoned her jacket and waved as she went to her car. I gave a final wave before she drove away. Smiling, I contemplated the transitions ahead for Jessica, me, and both of our businesses. I wasn’t sure I was ready for the differences these changes would make, but moving forward was the only acceptable direction for all of us.

  Set for the night, the rabbits sprawled in their cages, while Bun hopped about double-checking all was well before he squatted next to me in the yarn shop. Bills for deliveries had been neatly stacked on the counter. I flipped through them, noting which ones required immediate payment and how long I had before the others would come due. Each delivery invoice had been meticulously signed by Lizzy.

  I leaned my head against the back of the chair, let the warmth of the fireplace wash over me, and hoped that no one in my employ was part of the misery that had taken place these past few months. I couldn’t possibly be so mistaken about the people who worked for me. I heaved a sigh, turned the heat down to low, and invited Bun back into the house.

  “I think it’s time for something to eat. What do you say?”

  “You’re right. Let’s go.” Bun set off toward the house. I chuckled over the way his tail puffed up and down as he bounced.

  Bun’s food ready for him, a few wisps of timothy hay accompanied the meal, and his water feeder was full, before I tended to my own meal. I could hear him crunch the pellets as I prepped a salad, added slivers of baked chicken, then salted and peppered it. I’d gathered the oil and vinegar cruets and took a seat at the table, facing the windows.

  Darkness hadn’t quite arrived, but was well on its way. I fussed with the salad dressings and had started to eat when I heard Bun say, “We have company.”

  Sheriff Carver’s cruiser stopped next to my car. He got out and looked around before coming to the door. Curious over why he’d stop in since he lived east of the farm, I opened the door and waited as he entered.

  “Evening, Jack.”

  He shrugged his jacket off, hung it on a peg near the door, and said, “Got any coffee, Jules?”

  From the other room, I heard a series of warnings. “Beware!” was among them. Ignoring Bun’s overreaction to Jack’s visit, I poured coffee that had just finished brewing and handed him a steaming mug of it.

  I took my seat and began picking at my salad again. The last time we had spoken, he’d been quite angry at my interference in his findings of Arty’s death, his house, and possibly his son. I wouldn’t start the conversation. This time around it was up to him.

  Silence stretched, the thread of it tightening, but I held fast.

  “I know I was outspoken and angry when we last met, Jules, but this silent treatment is downright rude.”

  “Really? You think I’m rude?” I dropped the fork onto the plate and nudged the dish away. “If I remember correctly, you kicked me out of the station, threatened me if I interfered one more time, and even yelled at me. Why would I be the one to start a conversation, Jack?”

  He regarded the coffee in his cup, then slowly lifted his head to look at me. “I might have been out of line a bit, but I did warn you and as always you didn’t pay attention to the warning in the least.”

  I pushed my chair back and folded my arms over my chest. “If you’ve come to pick an argument, then get out of my house. But, if you have something you’d like to share with me, then just do it.”

  “That’s telling him, Jules. Don’t take any guff from him.”

  Taking the plate, I dumped the salad into the trash, gave Bun a look that conveyed more than words ever could, and went back to the table with the coffeepot and a warming pad to set it on.

  Settled in my chair again, I fiddled with my napkin, waiting for Carver to get to the point of his visit.

  “You can be quite stubborn. Are you aware of that?”

  “You came to me, Jack, I didn’t invite you over for a chat. What’s on your mind?”

  He withdrew a bunch of folded papers from his back pocket and smoothed them out on the table. I fought hard to refrain from snatching them up, and won the battle, but it was nearly my undoing.

  I peered at them.

  “I received confirmation that Andrew Stone is indeed a decorated hero, spent a few tours in the Middle East, came back with PTSD, was honorably discharged, and then suddenly dropped off the map. He was part of a Special Forces unit who took heavy fire with serious casualties to his unit at the end of his last tour.”

  “Okay, what does that mean to us?”

  “Nothing, really. I just thought you should know in case there’s an incident involving him.”

  “I see. Thanks for letting me know.” My opinion of Andrew hadn’t changed one iota.

  “What else? There must be more to this visit than Andrew. We had pretty well figured him out anyway.”

  He shrugged, drank the rest of his coffee, and got up to put his jacket on.

  “I won’t ask again, Jack.”

  He whirled back to me and crammed his hat on his head. “I guess I really got under your skin that last time we talked. I won’t apologize again, Juliette, but my wife says I should be nicer to you.”

  I nearly laughed, but held it in at the last moment. Tipping my head to the side, I realized this was as close to a real apology as I was going to get.

  “All right, sit down, and tell me what’s going on. I have a right to know, this is my farm, my land, and Arty was my associate. It’s all linked, we both know it, so let’s put our heads together and figure this murder out and what it has to do with Fur Bridge Farm.”

  “That’s just it, Jules, I can’t come up with one single connection. It’s frustrating as all get-out, too. Meredith says I’m driving her nuts with my cranky attitude, and that I should be ashamed of myself for losing my temper with you. Gave me a good tongue-lashing over that, I tell you. She was a good friend of your family’s for years. Did you know that?”

  I shook my head. “Mom never said much about that, other than she and Meredith had enjoyed organizing church events and such. How far back does her friendship go?”

  “When she was young, she knew your grandparents. We attended your parents’ wedding together, and your mother and Meredith became close. They had a great time at events, and socializing with the other women in their knitting groups and whatnot. Why do you ask?”

  “Just wondering. I knew nothing much about that part of Mom’s life, but then, I did go to a private academy rather than attend the local high school. I returned home after college, and then had my accident not too long after that. I guess I missed out on that part of my parents’ lives.”

  He pulled a chair away from the table and sat down again. “Have you any other information that you’d care to give me about what you found at Arty’s?” Carver raised a hand. “I promise not to get angry.”

  “There isn’t much to tell. Just that the same guy who has broken into the barn and taunted us was at Arty’s poking around the last time I was there.” I got up, fished through my jacket pockets, and handed Carver the house key. “He didn’t enter Arty’s with a key, so if there was a break-in, that guy did it. I usually put the key back in its hiding place when I leave, but forgot this time.”

  His lips compressed, but Carver never uttered a negative word or admonished me for my own breaking and entering. Instead, he pocketed the key and asked if we were having any other problems.

  “Nothing for weeks. Not since we changed the locks and kept the keys to ourselves. The kids work when we’re here, and Jess and I alone have keys to get in.”

  He glanced around. “Where is Jessica?”

 
“Out and about. The clinic is open for business, so she has to do her vet errands in between all else.”

  “How are your other employees working out? Any problems?”

  “None. The kids have worked their usual hours, Peter Lambert hasn’t been around as much as he used to be, he’s finished up his studies and has graduated college. Lizzy hasn’t been around for a week or two, she’s busy at her other job, I guess.”

  “What does she do there?”

  “She’s part of a marketing team. Smart girl, that one.”

  “Mm, well, I’d better be going. Meredith will be upset if I’m real late for supper. I’m glad we had this chat. Stay in touch, and if you hear anything, I will do the same. Keep this to yourself though, okay? I can’t have anyone thinking we’re working together to solve this murder and find the culprit who’s tormented you, Jules.” Carver bid me farewell and left.

  “Wonder how badly he choked on that crow he’s had to eat?”

  I hadn’t heard Bun come up behind me, but burst out laughing over his comment.

  “You read my mind.” I crouched next to him, fluffed his fur, then smoothed it again.

  “It’s still early let’s put together an itinerary for Saturday’s birthday party. Bailey Kimball is stopping by tomorrow, she’s a puppeteer, to talk about entertaining at parties with us. I hope she’s a good fit.”

  I hauled out the party book in which I kept pictures from past events and went through the pages one by one as Bun commented on the memories he had of each event. Close to the end of the book, I found a photograph of Arty with his back to my camera. He was speaking with another man, a lean, tall man in a hoodie. The side view of the man’s face was visible, but not clear. Fuzzy, instead.

  “Bun, look, I think that’s the intruder.”

  Bun viewed the photo, backed away and then looked again. His ears turned downward. “I can’t see his face very well. Is the picture on your phone?”

  Scrambling to my feet, I reached into my handbag for the phone. It didn’t take long to scroll through the photos and find the picture matching the one in the album. Plugging the phone into my laptop, I downloaded the snapshot and enlarged it as much as I could to sharpen the image. Still, the face was unclear. Whether it was from a cast shadow or the angle of the shot, I didn’t know, but I couldn’t get the picture any clearer.

  Sitting cross-legged on the floor, I wondered if Carver’s technicians were able to sharpen images. I planned to ask, and then loaded the photo onto a flash drive, which I stuffed into my handbag.

  “Is that flash thingy for the sheriff?”

  “His technical guy might be able to work more magic than I can. No harm in trying, right?”

  “I guess, until he kicks you out of the police station again.” Bun’s whiskers jittered up and down.

  I gave him a light nudge with my wrist. “Then he’d have to eat more crow, wouldn’t he?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Rabbits scampered to and fro in the huge playpen. Jess and I cleaned cages, sanitized trays, and filled water dispensers and added fruit and veggies to feeders. We worked in harmony, completed the chores, and I swept the barn floor. With no early morning house calls scheduled, Jess prepared the clinic for her appointments.

  “If you need a hand, I’ll be out here, just give a yell.”

  She grinned, said she would, and left me with the rabbits.

  Bun, in the pen with Walkabout Willy, remarked, “Jules, this arrangement with Jessica is gonna be perfect.”

  “I think so, too.” I’d gathered the two rabbits, set Bun on the floor, and left Willy in his hutch when I heard a rap on the shop door. With a glance at the wall clock, I hung the broom on its hook and rushed to unlock the studio door to let Lizzy in, her arms loaded with bags.

  “I hope I didn’t interrupt you by arriving earlier than planned, Juliette. Maybe if I had a key, you wouldn’t have had to stop what you were doing to let me in with all my bundles.”

  “Here, let me take some of those.” I grabbed three of the bulkiest bags and set them on the countertop. “What’s in them?” Like a kid in a candy store, I tipped the bag on end, waiting to see what came out. Two knit sweaters, one angora, and the other heavy wool, were a feast for the eyes. I squeezed them and listened to Lizzy giggle at my excitement.

  “Wait until you see what the other bags hold.” She repeated what I’d done and laughed aloud when I squealed with excitement over the contents. A thick white chenille knit blanket cozied up to a crocheted one of azure blue chenille. Two cable-knit lap blankets made of fisherman’s wool sat amid the shawls. Lizzy’s friends had been busy.

  “Was this yarn from our supplies?”

  Nodding her head, Lizzy laid her hand atop the blankets. “The women have been working like crazy to make enough samples to increase this end of your business. When classes begin, people from all over will want to learn how to make their own yarn to create items such as these.”

  “Is that why you haven’t been around? You’ve been waiting until this merchandise was finished to bring it all at once?”

  “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

  Her hesitation was so fleeting, I thought I had imagined it. “I don’t know what to say, except, help me find a place to display all this. Do you have invoices for the work?”

  As Lizzy rifled through her purse, I separated the items and scanned the room for spots to display each piece.

  Handing me the invoice, Lizzy explained who had done each item, saying they were listed separately, and noting a check for each individual person should be made. The total cost was more than I expected, but the work was superb, so I didn’t complain.

  “This should be enough for now, don’t have any other garments or projects crafted until classes are underway, okay? The order for the spinning wheels should arrive this afternoon.”

  “Whatever you say, Juliette. I know this cost more than you’d anticipated spending, but you’ll get more in return than you could possibly imagine. I promise.”

  A car parked next to Lizzy’s. I opened the door to summon Bailey inside. She stood beside her car peering at each entry, seemingly confused about where to go.

  I greeted her warmly, and instantly took a liking to her sweet face, brown hair streaked with shades of burnished copper, and the wholesomeness of her entire being. In worn blue jeans, a North Face jacket of cream and gray tweed, her scarf of mixed shades of blue, purple, and touches of pink set her complexion and blue eyes off to a T. Her reserved smile stiffened a tad as she glanced past me, but then returned to charming as she greeted me with a handshake.

  “Juliette, I must stop in to see Jessica for a second before I leave. Gotta run, I’ll call you later,” Lizzy said, and stepped into the clinic and closed the door behind her.

  We hadn’t set the displays, or worked out answers potential spinning students had, and now Lizzy was gone. Annoyed at her sudden departure, I turned my attention to Bailey, who had also arrived earlier than expected. Must have been my day for early meetings. Hm.

  After Bailey and I had introduced ourselves, we sat in chairs near the fireplace. Bun huddled on the hearth rug, intent on not missing a word.

  “This is such a wonderful farm. I’ve been by on several occasions and was disappointed to have missed your open house. Mary Brickworth speaks very highly of you, Juliette.”

  “Jules, please.”

  “How long have you been doing rabbit events and education?”

  We chatted on for a half hour until she asked if I would like to see her puppets. I slipped into my jacket, left Bun by the fire, and accompanied Bailey to her car. The hatchback opened with a click of her key fob. Funky and unusual puppets sat lined up on the rear seat as though taking a ride. I grinned when she said their names and knew she was going to be great entertainment for parties in the area. With a photo album of her past events, we went back inside, but not before I realized Lizzy had driven away, leaving the barn by way of the outer clinic door. My annoyance returned. What
was her problem, anyway?

  Bailey went through a few pages of the album, explaining her experience, who her audiences were, and how pleased she was to work with young and old people alike. I agreed, and mentioned the Easter egg hunt, and then Windermere’s summer day camp, where elderly people visit a few days at a time each summer to enjoy the lake, the fresh air, and were fond of my rabbits.

  Though Arty had never participated in the affair, since these elderly folks didn’t care for mimes, I thought they might enjoy Bailey’s puppets. It came as no surprise that she had done shows at the camp on days when I was absent.

  “The elderly campers are characters in and of themselves, don’t you think?” Bailey asked with a mischievous grin.

  “That they are. I enjoy myself whenever I go there, and they adore the rabbits, too. Do you have time to see the rabbits, before you go?”

  She glanced at the grandfather clock and nodded. “Sure, why not?”

  On our tour, I explained where the rabbits came from, how they were cared for, and the way I educated those interested in becoming bunny parents.

  “Is there a process you go through before a rabbit is adopted?”

  “There is. The animal rescue team and I came up with a program that allows us to have thorough documentation on those who wish to adopt. Some of the rabbits were rescued from places they should never have lived in, and were abused, injured, or both. I don’t tolerate that, and work hard to ensure their safety here and in a future home.”

  “I’m impressed. This place is so clean, and the rabbits respond to you when you stop and talk to them.” Bailey poked a finger through a space in the wire and rubbed the nose of the rabbit. “I think I’ll enjoy working with you, Jules.”

  We shook hands and agreed to meet at Karen Sommers’s house on High Ridge Road on Saturday. I walked Bailey to the door and watched as she went toward her car.

  “She left her book behind.”

  I grabbed the album and ran out the door, waving for her to wait. At the driver’s side of her car, I held the book up and waited until her window slid down. “You forgot this, I didn’t know if you needed it for your next appointment.”