Left Fur Dead

by J. M. Griffin

  “Sure, the fish will be cleaned and ready. Thanks, Juliette.”

  If I wasn’t mistaken, it seemed we’d come to be friends of a sort. I smiled, turned, and left with Bun, who objected to the idea of my inviting this man to our home for supper. We’d gone about fifty feet, when I whispered, “It isn’t as if he hasn’t eaten with us before. Get over it, will you?”

  My cell phone jangled a merry tune until I pulled it from my pocket. Sheriff Carver was on the line.

  “Been a while, Jules. What’s going on?”

  “Not much. I do have an interesting picture I just came across that I’d like to show you. Are you going to be at the station much longer?”

  I heard a sigh.

  “I’m at the farm, where are you?”

  “On my way back from the lake. Stay put, I should be there shortly.” Maybe within a half hour, but he could wait. I started to jog, quickened the pace, and went into a full run, clasping the sling to my chest so Bun wasn’t bounced all over the place. I’d offended him enough for one day.

  “Geesh, you’re crushing me.”

  Lightening my grip, I ran until the farm came into view. Only then did I slow my pace to a walk.

  Sheriff Carver leaned against his cruiser, basking in the sun. I raised my hand and pointed to the house. He got my drift, and walked on ahead of us, waiting on the porch by the front door.

  “That was pretty fast. You must have run every step of the way. I expected to be here for an hour before you got back.”

  Breathing hard, I opened the front door, stepped into the kitchen, and answered the phone as it rang for the third time.

  “Jules Bridge.”

  “Karen Sommers here, returning your call. How can I help you, Juliette?”

  I gave her the rundown on the couple at her daughter’s party, then asked if she remembered them. “The woman’s husband seemed quite interested in scheduling an event for their own kids, but I didn’t have the opportunity to get their name and address. Would you happen to have that on hand?”

  “I know exactly who you’re talking about. Wait one sec while I look them up in my address book.”

  Paper rustled, and Karen gave me the information. I thanked her and hung up.

  Sheriff Carver leaned against the door, his hands in his pockets, waiting for me to explain. When I didn’t, he asked, “That’s how you get your information, huh? You’re pretty good at finding out what you want to know. I’ve never seen you in action, Juliette. I bet you never spoke to that couple, did you? You overheard something that’s been bugging you and you had to satisfy your curiosity?”

  Leaving Bun out of my admission, I said, “Okay, I admit it. I heard them talking, but didn’t have a chance to follow up with them. This was an easier way to do it. Have a seat, Jack, I’ll get the photo for you.”

  I delved into my handbag for the flash drive I’d meant to drop off to him and then pulled the picture up on my cell phone. I showed it to him, explained what I’d come up with, and left him to figure out if his tech guy could work his magic.

  Eventually, Carver handed the phone to me, slipped the flash drive into his pocket, and asked for a cup of coffee.

  While it brewed, I asked if there were any new leads in his investigation.

  “I’m afraid not. There is lots of conjecture, with no proof pointing to any one person. It’s very frustrating. You’d think by now we’d have something to go on. What’s with the name and address of this couple, then?”

  “The husband made a remark concerning what his neighbor had said about me. His neighbor blames me for Arty’s death and said he could prove it. I was worried this man might be Rusty, but the address Karen gave me is nowhere near Rusty’s house. He hasn’t relocated, has he?”

  “Not to my knowledge.” He dialed a number and ordered a patrolman to check on Rusty’s address.

  “We should know very shortly if he’s still living in the same place.”

  “That was simple. I figured I’d have to see for myself, which isn’t on my play list. I avoid the man if, and when, I can. He did his time in jail, I survived, and we’ve both moved on. I can’t tell you how relieved I am about it.”

  “Have you been back to Arty’s house?”

  “Not since you threatened me. Besides, I searched every nook and cranny to find a scrap of evidence that might lead to his killer, and found nothing. How about you?”

  With a shake of his head, Carver heaved a sigh. “What do you think that hooded man hoped to find?”

  “I have no idea. Sorry.”

  “Stone been around at all?”

  “Not lately, but I saw him down by the lake earlier. Seems in good spirits.”

  “Thought he might have moved on by now, wonder what he’s waiting for.”

  “Jack, we both know he’s connected to Arty somehow. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was Arty’s son. I found a scrap of paper at the house with Arty’s handwriting on it, I showed it to you, remember?”

  “The one about father and son?”

  “That’s the one. I think he meant Andrew, but I can’t prove it and refuse to push Andrew to tell me.”

  “He wouldn’t if he didn’t want to. That man can keep his mouth shut and his thoughts to himself. I interviewed him all night when we arrested him for squatting, and he didn’t budge an inch.” Carver put his cup in the sink, then said he’d check on Andrew.

  Without a word about Andrew providing dinner, I watched Jack walk through the field and disappear into the woodlands. Gone for some time, Jack returned, got into his car, and drove away without a look in the direction of my house. My curiosity ratcheted up a notch as I wondered if Andrew had even been at the campsite. How could I bring that into the conversation over dinner? I wondered.

  At four o’clock, Andrew arrived with two fish in hand. I took them from him, added a spice and butter mix, rubbed it on both sides of each fish, and laid them in a pan to bake. The vegetables were ready to steam. Jessica had closed the clinic after her last appointment and set the table for three.

  Curiously, Bun had remained quiet all afternoon. Probably sulking over his supposed unfair treatment. I checked his water supply, offered him a small thatch of timothy hay, and filled his food container.

  “You’ve had an interesting day, Jules. I know I was rude earlier, and I apologize. Can we talk later?”

  I smiled, ran my hand over his fur, and nodded, leaving him to enjoy his fare.

  The three of us enjoyed the delicious fish dinner, and our conversation was smooth, rather than stilted, until Andrew put his fork on his plate and said, “Sheriff Carver stopped by my campsite this afternoon.”

  I hesitated but a fraction of a second. “He came by here first, wanted to know if I’d seen you and then said he wanted to check on you for himself. How did it go?”

  “Not bad, really. He can be quite personable when he isn’t trying to terrify someone into confessing to things he hasn’t done.”

  “Like what, exactly?” Jess asked.

  “Like when he arrested me for squatting and then tried to pin your intrusions on me.”

  “He did say you aren’t easily intimidated,” I said.

  “I’m glad he realizes that. No harm done, we’re on solid terms now.”

  “What are your future plans?” Jess asked before finishing her last bit of food.

  “I’ll be moving on in a week or two. I’ve only stayed to keep an eye on you and your barn. It’s plain that the sheriff doesn’t have enough manpower to leave an officer here all the time.”

  “That’s nice of you. We haven’t had any trouble since we changed the locks, though, so maybe our intruder has moved on to an easier target.”

  His blue-eyed piercing look stopped me short. “You and I know that isn’t the case. This man has a reason for his actions and those haven’t gone away, I’m certain of it. I think he’s waiting for the right moment to return and begin again. The lock situation has only kept him at bay until he figures another way in without breaki
ng windows or setting off an alarm if you have one.”

  Her expression filled with angst, Jessica asked, “You really believe that?”

  His nod was his answer.

  “We can handle what comes. Jessica and I aren’t victims, nor are my rabbits. If this guy comes back, we’ll be ready for him.”

  “If you say so. I’ll do my best to remain vigilant.” Andrew stacked the dishes, placed them on the counter by the sink, and retrieved his jacket from a peg near the door. “Dinner was tasty, thanks.”

  “Thanks for sharing your catch, and for watching out for us.”

  Jessica, standing by the door, opened it and wished him a good night. The minute he was out of sight, she rounded on me.

  “I was no longer worried over this creep who’s been breaking in, but now, well, that confidence just flew out the window.”

  Surprised, I asked, “You really thought we had seen the last of him?”

  “Didn’t you?”

  “No, I have taken this break in his attempts to ruin me and my business as a temporary reprieve. Nothing more. The changes we’ve made have worked so far, but they won’t work forever. If he has become desperate, then we’ll likely have another visit.”

  The phone rang. Sheriff Carver assured me that Rusty was still at the same address. “I’ll find out who this party guest’s next-door neighbor is and take it from there. Have a nice evening.”

  While Jessica made a supply list for the clinic, I went into the barn to settle the bunnies for the night. Done with the chores, I turned back toward the breezeway to find Bun at my heels.

  “Before we go into the house, Bun, I want to look over the supplies in the yarn shop.”

  He followed along behind me as I went into the huge room. The fireplace flickered, the flames turned to low, and I flipped on the light switch. The room brightened, colorful yarns caught my eye, bringing a smile to my lips. Yes, Lizzy had done a great job in bringing life into a sector of the business that had been lacking the vitality to encourage customers to spend their money. It would serve us all well to get to the bottom of Lizzy’s problems.

  “Lizzy is coming to lunch next week, right?”

  “Supposedly. I hope she shows up.”

  “She will. I’m sure she’s just got too much to deal with right now. She’s smart, and a hard worker. You’ll see. She was a bit scattered when she was here the other day. When Bailey arrived, and they saw each other, I could feel tension in the air. Lizzy couldn’t get away fast enough. What do you make of that?”

  “I thought I imagined it. You should have spoken up sooner.”

  “If you’d listened to what I was saying on our way to the lake today, we wouldn’t be having this conversation now.”

  I halted mid-step, looked down at my furry mystery partner, and abruptly apologized. “I was trying to figure out who the party guest’s neighbor might be. I should have listened, Bun. Sorry.”

  “The women know each other. They were surprised to see each other, too. Lizzy was shocked and fearful, then she was herself again and practically ran from this room.”

  “I caught the looks between them, but they recovered so fast, I figured my imagination was in overdrive. One thing that struck me as odd, though, was when I spoke with Bailey, she asked about Lizzy.”

  “Hm, curious. Might be worth looking into.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  We left the barn in good order, went through the breezeway, and found Jessica had gone upstairs. She’d scribbled a note saying she was having an early night. It was after nine o’clock when I finally sprawled across the sofa, covered with an afghan, and began to doze. I’m not sure how long it lasted before I was awakened by Bun.

  In a frantic state he ran in circles, and hopped onto my body and off again to complete another round. All the while he repeated, “Smoke and fire in the barn, smoke and fire in the barn. Get up, smoke and fire in the barn.”

  I flung the afghan aside, rushed from the living room, and yelled up the stairs for Jessica to come quickly. I heard her door open as she yelled back, “I’m coming.”

  Grabbing my slip-on sneakers, I ran through the breezeway into the barn, stumbling as I ran while slipping the shoes onto my feet. Smoke billowed into the front of the barn as I came down the sloped breezeway. I flipped the switch for the air vent built into the roof to clear the air by drawing the smoke upward and out of the building. “Call nine-one-one, Jess. I’ll roll the hutches close to the door in case the barn is on fire. I don’t see any flames, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there.”

  The sharp smell of vinegar permeated the air. Confused by the odor, I rushed toward the first cage, grabbed onto the stand, and wheeled it toward the double doors. Jessica followed suit as sirens screamed before falling silent.

  Fists pounded on the doors as I pushed the fourth hutch forward. I opened the small door and allowed the fire and rescue team in followed by the police. I shut the door and continued to rescue the rabbits. Sheriff Carver followed me up the aisle, his questions terse, and my answers short.

  “What happened?”

  “I smelled smoke.”

  “Are there flames to go with this acrid smell?”

  I stopped, and was about to answer him, when a firefighter stepped next to me. “The smell is from a smoke grenade. It has a vinegar odor that can be caustic. My men are pulling the rabbit hutches outside. You needn’t worry about fire. Let’s get moving, it can be harmful for the rabbits.”

  Everyone did their best to get the rabbits to safety. Jessica had her stethoscope out to listen to each rabbit’s breathing. Firefighters and cops lined up, each holding a rabbit to make the job go faster. She listened, nodded, and moved on to the next rabbit. I was marching back and forth inside the barn, scrutinizing every inch of the space, when I stumbled upon the body of a man.

  “Back here, somebody come back here. I found a body,” I yelled.

  Intent on getting the rabbits to safety once we knew the smoke was from a grenade and it wasn’t a real fire, no one else had thought to search the rest of the barn except for me. EMTs rushed past, loaded with equipment, followed by two more guys rolling a gurney up the aisle.

  Now that the barn was lit brilliantly, and the smoke had been completely cleared, I attempted to get a look at the man lying crumpled on the floor.

  “Is he dead?” the sheriff wanted to know.

  “He’s breathing, just unconscious.” The lead EMT nodded to his men and said, “Let’s load him up and get him to the ER.”

  Minutes later, the gurney, the man, and the crew were on their way out the door and then down the driveway in their rescue truck. The efficiency of these guys impressed me to no end.

  A tap on my shoulder gave me a start.

  “I have questions for you two.” The sheriff dipped his head toward Jessica and then said, “After you get the rabbits organized, we’ll talk. My officers can help bring the animals back in.”

  “Thanks, Jack.” Directing the placement of cages, Jessica came up to me and reported the rabbits hadn’t shown any signs of injury. She’d check them again in the morning.

  “Did you get a look at the unconscious man?” Sheriff Carver interjected.

  Jess shook her head while I mulled the question over. I had seen his face, albeit briefly. Although I was certain I hadn’t seen him before, he somehow seemed familiar. It didn’t make sense, but my gut said it was so. Seldom did I ever doubt my gut. It had proven helpful for years, just as Bun’s superb senses did.

  “Jules?”

  I snapped back from my distracted thoughts and said, “I have no idea who he is. He seems familiar somehow, but I don’t know any more than that. Sorry, Jack.”

  He asked a few more questions, for which we had no answers, and finally left, ordering all but one officer to get back to work. The last cop was assigned to stay for the night.

  Once the sheriff drove away, I offered the man coffee and a snack. He grinned and said he’d take me up on the offer. In a f
lash, Jessica had put together a sandwich, some cookies, and the thermos I’d filled with coffee, and took it all out to the man. They spoke for a few minutes before she hurried back inside.

  “It might be spring, but the nights are still chilly,” she said with a shiver.

  I picked up the phone and dialed the non-emergency number for the fire station. The team leader, Alphonse Bilodeau, wasn’t available. I left him a message, asking for a return call. Determined to know who the stranger was, and what he was doing in my barn, I waited impatiently for Alphonse to call me back.

  It took some time, but Alphonse called and apologized for the long wait. “I have no information to give you, Jules. The sheriff is adamant about that. I am sorry that I can’t tell you anything.”

  “That’s fine, I might have a word with Jack.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Dawn arrived, Jess went into the house for a catnap, and I took off into the woodlands for a chat with Andrew. I found him sitting on a tree stump, a fire in the firepit with steam emitting from the tin coffeepot’s spout.

  Expressionless, Andrew watched my approach, then lifted his cup and asked if I wanted some home-brewed coffee. Squatting next to him, my hands spread toward the heat from the fire, I nodded.

  “Why didn’t you come to the barn last night, or did you, and then leave?”

  “You had enough help, mine wasn’t needed.” He handed me a sorry excuse for a mug, chipped, with a fine crack in the handle. I gladly accepted the coffee anyway. I sipped the strong, fragrant brew and let the caffeine work its way into my system. A long day stretched out ahead of me.

  He tossed a dry stick of wood onto the flames. “Tell me what took place.”

  I gave him as much information as I could before I asked, “Were you in the barn at all?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “We found an unconscious man.”

  “I saw a shadow moving about. Do you know who he is?”

  I shook my head and handed him the mug for a refill. “Do you?”

  “No.”

  “Did you stop him from setting fire to the barn?”