Egg Drop Dead

by Laura Childs

  “No, honey,” Toni said. “That would be you.”

  * * *

  TWENTY minutes later, Suzanne tapped her foot against the brake. They were coasting along County Road 10, a blacktopped road that unfurled like a dark ribbon through the countryside. They cruised past acres of stubbly corn and soybean fields that had been recently harvested, the night preternaturally dark with fog drifting in and obscuring any possible hint of moonlight.

  “Spooky out here,” Toni said. Way off in the distance they could see the faint glint of light from a farmhouse.

  “Yes it is,” Suzanne said.

  “You think the horses will be out in the pasture or stashed in a barn?”

  “If this guy Elder is just warehousing them until he can move them to Canada, then they’re probably just being kept outside.”

  “If the horses are even owned by Elder,” Toni said.

  “That’s what I’d like to find out.” Suzanne peered through the darkness. Some kind of wet crud had congealed on the windshield, making it difficult to see. And she felt disoriented. She wasn’t all that familiar with this part of the county and with the October night being so dark and damp . . . well, driving was difficult at best. Still, she figured they were closing in.

  “Is that a mailbox up ahead?” Toni asked. She was sitting on the edge of her seat, trying to get a fix on where they were.

  “I think so. Oh yeah, and there’s a farmhouse, too. Set back from the road.”

  “Pull up slow,” Toni said. “So we can read the name.”

  Suzanne rolled down her driver’s side window as she slowly approached a tilting tin mailbox.

  “Can you see anything?” Toni asked.

  Suzanne shook her head. “Not yet.” She let her car continue to creep forward. “Wait a minute, I think I can . . . yeah. There it is.”

  “What’s it say?” Toni asked. “What’s the name on the mailbox?”

  “It says Elder.”

  “Holy sweet potato,” Toni said. “And this is where you saw that herd of horses? The ones that looked kind of sick and tired?”

  “That’s right,” Suzanne said. She was suddenly feeling a little sick and tired herself.

  “So what are we supposed to do now?”

  Suzanne cut her headlights and rolled forward another fifty feet, stopping only when her view of the farmhouse was obstructed by a thick stand of poplars. Which meant that Elder couldn’t see her, either.

  “We’re going to go see if those horses are still here.”

  * * *

  THEY climbed out of the car and stood on the side of the road. The night was dark and dreary and the chill wind rustling through almost-bare trees made it sound like bare bones clacking together.

  “This is scary,” Toni whispered. “Us being out here all alone. I’m suddenly flashing on visions of Jason and Freddy and all those other horror movie guys.”

  “Save it for Halloween,” Suzanne said. “Right now we’ve got a job to do. We’re going to take a quick look at those horses and then get out of here.” Suzanne mustered her courage and squared her shoulders. “Come on.” She led the way as they walked single file along the edge of the road, trying to be as quiet as possible. They passed the mailbox with Elder’s name on it and, ten feet on, came to his gravel driveway. They stood there for a few moments, gazing at a small house that was hunkered thirty yards back from the road. It was a one-story affair that looked more like a cottage than a house. A dreary affair with peeling paint and a dilapidated porch hanging off one side. No flowers, no picket fence, no smoke curling up from the chimney.

  “What do you think?” Suzanne asked.

  “I’d say the place probably has bad plumbing and dirty linoleum,” Toni said. “Plus, I see a light on inside, so somebody’s home. Probably watching TV. We’re going to have to be careful.”

  “We will be,” Suzanne said.

  “Where’s this pasture supposed to be?”

  “Just off to our left.”

  They crunched quietly down the driveway and then veered off onto a patch of grass. That was better. The grass was slippery but quiet to walk on. So there was much less chance of Julian Elder hearing their footfalls and rushing out to harass them.

  They stumbled through a fairly dense grove of trees. Low, twisty branches reached out, tugged at their hair, and practically ensnared them.

  “What is this?” Toni whispered. “Some kind of orchard?”

  “Old apple and plum trees, I think,” Suzanne said. “Only I doubt any of these trees have been pruned or fertilized in years.”

  They ducked their way through the orchard, heading toward a rickety-looking fence of silvered wood. And just as Suzanne touched a hand to the top rail, just as she was about to pull herself up and over, they heard the faint sound of a dog barking inside the house.

  Yap, yap, yap.

  “Holy crap!” Toni cried in a hoarse whisper. “What if Elder lets his dog out and it’s some kind of ginormous police dog? Or a man-eating rottweiler?”

  “Then we climb up into one of these trees,” Suzanne said just as the front porch light flashed on.

  That sent them ducking to the ground, crouching low on their hands and knees, scrambling for cover.

  Seconds later, Suzanne peered through a tangle of gnarled branches, trying to figure out what was going on. She didn’t see a dog; she didn’t see a person. So maybe a false alarm? Just when she’d decided things might be cool after all, the front door to the house flew open and a small white dog bounded out.

  “Dog,” Suzanne said to Toni.

  Toni stared at her with wide eyes. “Should we make a run for it? If that dog comes over here and finds us we’re cooked.”

  Suzanne raised a hand. She could see the dog and it was spinning around in a circle making a ton of noise—it really was a little rabble-rouser—but it didn’t seem to be venturing their way.

  “I think we’re okay,” Suzanne whispered. “The dog’s not exactly your fierce guard dog type.” Truth be told, he looked like a cute little mop.

  “Yeah?” Toni’s head popped up just as Julian Elder threw open the door and stepped out onto his porch.

  Suzanne motioned frantically. “Down! Get down! Elder just came out and he’s carrying a shotgun!”

  Toni curled up and pressed herself against the damp ground. “Holy crap,” she whispered. “We’re gonna end up with a load of buckshot in our butts.”

  “Just stay down,” Suzanne whispered back. “Don’t move a muscle and don’t make a peep.”

  “Do you think he saw us?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so.” Suzanne ventured another look. “He’s just kind of looking around.”

  “Maybe he saw your car?” Toni asked.

  “I think he’s just reacting to the dog.”

  “By grabbing his gun?” Toni huffed. “He’s a real friendly sort, isn’t he?”

  “Well,” Suzanne said. “We are on his property.”

  “Please don’t remind me.”

  For the next couple of minutes, they scrunched into tight balls like the proverbial dormouse at Alice’s tea party. Finally Toni said, “What’s going on now? Can you see?”

  Suzanne lifted her head and peered toward the house. “I think he’s going back inside.”

  “You think he is or he really is?”

  “Hang on a minute. No, he’s going in. There, he just closed the door behind him.”

  “Dog’s gone, too?” Toni asked.

  “He took the dog in with him.”

  “Then pardon me while I let out a very deep breath,” Toni said. She sat up and brushed bits of grass off her slacks. “Poop. I think I just ruined a perfectly good pair of JCPenney slacks.”

  CHAPTER 15

  SUZANNE and Toni hurried to the fence and scrambled over.

  “
Now what?” Toni asked as they tromped through knee-high grasses.

  “I want to see what kind of shape those horses are in,” Suzanne said.

  “Where are they? I don’t see them anywhere.”

  “Shhh.”

  Suzanne listened carefully for a few moments. She figured she’d be able to detect a low nicker or the faint stomp of a hoof. And, after a couple of seconds, she did. There were definitely horses in the general vicinity. “This way,” she whispered to Toni.

  “Which way? I can barely see my hand in front of my face. I don’t know if it’s this fog or if I’ve suddenly developed inch-thick cataracts.”

  “Just hang on to my coat sleeve.”

  They tromped their way through the pasture, which, thank goodness, had just moderate tree coverage and a few patches of overgrown buckthorn that they had to skirt around.

  “There,” Suzanne said. Her hand came up and she pointed straight ahead.

  “I don’t see a dang thing,” Toni said.

  “Look harder. There’s a white horse staring right at us.”

  “Yeah?”

  “See him now?” Suzanne asked.

  “Oh yeah,” Toni said finally. “Kind of like a friendly ghost horse.”

  “Come on, let’s go.”

  “You don’t think the horses will be afraid of us?” Toni asked.

  The eight horses that were crowded into one section of the pasture weren’t one bit afraid of them. In fact, the horses greeted them with welcoming nickers and inquisitive noses that poked at them.

  “I wish we’d thought to bring along some carrots or apples,” Suzanne said. “These guys look hungry.”

  “I’ve got some Tic Tacs in my purse,” Toni said. “Mint flavored. You think they’d like that?”

  “Probably not.”

  “So what do you think?”

  “You mean about their health in general?” Suzanne asked as she ran her hand across the withers of a small pinto.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’d say it’s pretty poor. These horses are thin and definitely underfed.”

  “They seem kind of sad, too,” Toni said.

  “Dispirited,” Suzanne said.

  “As if they know what their fate might be.”

  Suzanne walked from one horse to another, rubbing behind its ears, under its chin, giving each horse a gentle pat on the shoulder. “This isn’t right,” she said. “We have to do something.”

  “Like what?” Toni asked.

  “I’m not sure.” A dappled gray horse snuffled at Suzanne, trying to stick his nose in her jacket pocket. “I’m sorry,” she told him. “I don’t have anything for you.”

  “Maybe we could contact some sort of horse rescue group,” Toni said.

  Suzanne rubbed the gray horse’s forehead. “You know what? I think Mike Mullen was already trying to rescue some of these horses.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Claudia mentioned it to me tonight. When she was talking about getting rid of the livestock, she said that Mike had bought a couple of horses from one of their neighbors.”

  “You think he bought some of these horses?” Toni asked.

  Suzanne ran her hand down a gray horse’s nose and touched his rope halter. “Maybe.”

  “Do you think that horses somehow figured in Mike’s death?”

  “I don’t know,” Suzanne said.

  Toni dropped her voice, as if she were afraid the horses might hear her. “Do you think Elder could have killed Mike?”

  “I can’t imagine why. Unless Mike wanted to buy more horses and Elder didn’t want to sell.”

  “So they got into a fight?” Toni asked. “And things went from bad to worse?”

  “Maybe. I suppose that could have happened.” Suzanne gazed at the horses that had closed in around them in a semicircle. Horses that looked slightly hopeful, as if maybe she and Toni had come to rescue them. If horses were able to put that much together. “What I’d like to do is figure out if Mike’s horses came from this particular herd.”

  “How are you going to do that?”

  “For one thing,” Suzanne said, “these horses are all wearing the same kind of rope halters. We could check and see if Mike’s horses have the same halters.”

  Toni cocked her head. “So you’re saying we’re gonna sneak into Mike’s barn tonight, too? The barn where he was murdered?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  * * *

  IT was a lot easier to sneak down Mike Mullen’s driveway. A few clouds had graciously parted, allowing a sliver of moonlight to show the way. And Suzanne knew exactly where she was going. She parked her car some hundred yards from the house and she and Toni quietly hoofed it in, heading for the dairy barn.

  Once they hit the farmyard, they could see a dim light shining from a window in the main house. Claudia was definitely back home from the visitation, but there was no sign of a deputy on guard.

  “What if Claudia comes out and catches us?” Toni asked as she slunk along, keeping to the shadows.

  “Then we’ll have to come up with some kind of answer.”

  “The truth won’t work?”

  “I’m not sure,” Suzanne said. They’d just reached the dairy barn and she was feeling around, looking for the catch to open the door. There it was. She flipped up the lock and slowly, carefully, slid the barn door open. “Come on,” she whispered to Toni as she stepped into the gaping darkness.

  The first thing that struck Suzanne was the aroma of cows and the scent of fresh hay. Then the cows, subtly aware that someone had entered their domain, began to shuffle about in their stalls and utter low moos and grunts. She took a moment to get her bearings and then headed to her left, toward where she’d seen the box stalls that contained the horses. Just beyond was the room where Mike had been killed.

  “Shhh.” Toni gestured to the cows as she followed in Suzanne’s footsteps. “Keep it down, ladies.”

  Suzanne and Toni tiptoed quietly through the barn. Luckily, there were a number of long, rectangular windows set high on one wall. A faint glow from the yard light shone through so they weren’t creeping along in total darkness.

  “Do you know where you’re going?” Toni whispered.

  “Just up ahead are two box stalls,” Suzanne whispered back.

  “Do you think the horses are still there?”

  “They’re in there, all right, I can hear them stomping around.”

  Seconds later, Suzanne and Toni peered through the wooden slats of the first box stall.

  “How many horses are in there?” Toni asked.

  “Two that I can see,” Suzanne said. She could see the faint outline of two smaller-sized horses. Pretty little things that were probably a reddish roan color.

  Toni scrambled over to the next box stall. “I only see one horse in here.”

  “Is he wearing a rope halter?” Suzanne asked.

  “Hard to tell.”

  Suzanne reached up and slid open the catch on the stall gate.

  “You’re going in?” Toni sounded nervous.

  “I’ll be fine,” Suzanne said as she slipped into the stall.

  The occupant was a large black horse. A nice-looking stocky, blocky quarter horse that looked as if he’d been fairly well fed. He stood calmly, ears flicked forward, watching Suzanne intently as she approached.

  That’s good. It means he’s not going to get feisty on me. No kicking or biting.

  Suzanne stretched out a hand to let the horse sniff her. He took a good hard whiff and stomped a hoof, as if in approval.

  “Good boy,” she said. She let her hand wander up to his nose, gave it a gentle rub, and then slid her hand down under his chin. “How are you doing?” she asked him.

  The horse lifted his head and stretched his neck forward. He was sniff
ing her more closely now, scoping her out.

  “Are we gonna be friends, big guy?” Suzanne asked. She touched his cheek, then slid her hand over to his halter. It was a rope halter.

  “You okay in there?” Toni called out.

  “We’re good,” Suzanne said.

  “Is he wearing the same kind of halter that Elder’s horses were wearing?”

  Suzanne’s fingers ran along the rope part until they reached the buckle. She felt around carefully. “I’d say it’s the exact same kind.”

  “Suzanne?” Toni called in a quavering voice.

  “Yeah?”

  “Crap on a cracker, girlfriend. I think I heard something. We gotta beat feet out of here.”

  Suzanne slipped out of the stall and locked the gate behind her. “What did you hear?” she whispered.

  “A noise. Outside.” Toni was balanced on tiptoes, ready to run.

  Suzanne’s heart did a quick flip-flop. “You mean like someone walking around?”

  Toni grabbed her hand and hustled her back through the barn. “Yeah. Exactly like that.”

  But when they reached the doorway and peered outside, they didn’t see a thing. A faint light still shone in Claudia’s house, but there wasn’t a soul moving around the farmyard.

  “Nobody here,” Suzanne said.

  Toni shook her head. “Maybe my ears were playing tricks on me?”

  “Maybe.” Suzanne slid the barn door shut and turned to face Toni. She knew Toni was probably right about getting out of there. They’d been creepy-crawling in places they didn’t belong for the better part of forty minutes. Which might be pushing their luck. “Okay, time to leave.”

  They padded across the soft earth, trying to be as quiet and unobtrusive as possible. But all around them it felt like shadows flitted about. Suzanne tried to tell herself that it was just her imagination. An old pump looked like a crouching figure. The corncrib hid a silent watcher.

  Moon shadows, Suzanne reassured herself. Nothing to be frightened of.

  And just as they passed an old hay wagon, stepping through puddles of liquid silver, Suzanne really did see a fleeting shadow. Just off to her right, slipping behind a small wooden building. As she stiffened, Toni immediately caught her reaction.