by Mary Hiker
BUTTERFLY BOY
An Avery Barks Dog Mystery
By Mary Hiker
Published By:
Awesome Dog
Copyright © 2014
www.dogmysterybooks.com
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously.
Cover by StunningBookCovers.com
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Read More Books by the Author
About the Author
From the Author
Chapter 1
“They were out here again trying to get my babies!”
Miss Judy grabbed on to me so tightly that her fingernails dug into my arm. For a lady in her eighties, she sure had a lot of grip strength. Her gray hair was flying all over the place and she was almost out of breath. Jase Johnson and his buddies had trespassed on her land, hunting deer again.
I regularly stopped by to check in on Miss Judy since her husband died last year. This time, I found her sobbing and borderline hysterical. She was an animal lover and regarded the deer (and other wildlife) on her land as family.
“Will you take your dog and go scare them away?” she asked me with tears in her eyes.
She did not realize that my dog, Chevy, would never scare anyone, especially the likes of Jase and his buddies. That is, unless they were afraid of getting licked to death.
But, if it meant easing her mind and letting Chevy run and play on her land, I was happy to help. Miss Judy lived on over 700 acres that had been handed down to her through the generations. It had a nice mix of woods and pasture, and some of the most beautiful views the mountains of western North Carolina had to offer.
Besides, it was already past noon, and the hunters would be out of the woods by now. Well, I hoped they would be out of the woods. Being alone out there with a bunch of bullies was not my idea of fun.
I turned to my dog. “Hey Chevy, wanna go hike?”
Chevy picked up his leash with his mouth and shook his head back and forth as fast as it would go. He loved whipping his leash all around in the air like that. He was so excited, it even made Miss Judy smile.
“Thank you, Chevy, you are my hero,” she said.
I headed out behind her little farm house with my dog. Chevy trotted along with me, enjoying all the sights and smells of nature. He lived his life happy, and was just plain grateful to have a home and someone to love him.
We walked along the edge of a pasture and down a dirt road through Miss Judy’s woods. First stop was the spot where I had posted some “No Hunting” signs the week before.
About a quarter mile from the house, I glanced up toward the trees and my stomach immediately tightened. My “No Hunting” signs were covered in bullet holes. One sign even had “JASE was HERE” written in black marker, right on top of the words “No Hunting”. There were shotgun shells and empty cigarette boxes scattered all over the grass. Jase and his friends had trespassed out here, all right, and they didn’t care who knew it.
The distant hum of an engine wafted over the trees. It soon grew into a loud rumble. A truck was coming up the dirt road, fast. This was not a good time for any kind of trouble. I grabbed Chevy’s collar and ducked into the woods. We quickly crouched down behind a fallen tree. A huge black truck with oversized tires roared past me and spewed up dirt as it fishtailed around a curve.
A deep, gravelly voice hollered out as the truck flew by, “Just try to stop us, Nature Girl!”
They must have spotted me before we got off the path. I brushed the leaves and debris off my knees, and decided to get out of the area. I thought it best to stay off the dirt road to avoid a confrontation.
My plan was to follow the creek through the woods and end up at a paved country road. That road led back to Miss Judy’s place. Better safe than sorry. Those guys had guns and were half crazy.
It might be time for me to get the law involved in this.
My heart beat like a drum and my shoulders were tense as we cut through the woods. I constantly looked over my shoulder and kept up a good pace the entire way. The vegetation was still soaked from the previous night’s rain, and wet leaves slapped my face as we went along. Meanwhile, Chevy played in the creek and seemed oblivious to any kind of trouble.
My boots were muddy and my pants were wet by the time we popped out of the woods and into a large field. As we left the cover of the trees, sunshine replaced the shade. Tension started to leave my body when the old country road appeared off in the distance.
Chevy discovered some purple butterflies fluttering around the edge of the field and romped over to play with them. He was completely captivated as his new friends flittered around his head.
I kept moving across the grass field toward the paved road. Chevy would catch up to me when he was ready. The sooner we got back to my truck at Miss Judy’s place, the better. It was time for me to get some help dealing with Jase and his crew.
A large, dark mound came into focus on the ground up ahead of me. I could not tell what it was from a distance, and headed over in that direction to take a closer look. A strange humming sound filled the air all around me. The noise grew louder as I got closer to the mound.
I should have ignored it. I should have walked around it. But curiosity got the best of me and I went right over to it to take a look.
As I approached, flies were buzzing all over the place. Suddenly, I realized a human body was crumpled up and lying out in this field. He wore dark colored clothes with a patch on the shoulder of his jacket. The flies landed on a wound on the side of the guy’s head and his slicked back hair was mixed with blood.
I looked up to check on my dog, and he was still bounding around playing with butterflies about fifty yards away.
My focus slowly returned to the body lying in front of me. Gradually, I recognized the dark jacket with the red and white bulls-eye patch. I purposely slowed my breathing, then bent over and looked at the dead guy’s face.
Yep, I recognized the stranger. It was the weird guy that had gotten me fired from my job the day before. Then I noticed something even more bizarre…
My initials were written on his forehead with a black marker.
Chapter 2
I had to call the law, after all.
Geez, how does a person report that they found the dead body of a stranger who had just gotten them fired, especially when their initials are written right on his forehead?
It was a tough decision, but I figured it was better to call than not. It took a few minutes for me to stop freaking out and report the dead body. My hands were still kind of shaking when I dialed 911.
I decided to only mention the dead body and keep the rest of the information to myself for now. The authorities just needed to know the basics, as far as I was concerned. I needed some time to figure this mess out. I did not want to be falsely accused of anything, especially when I needed to find a new job.
&nbs
p; It took about a half hour for the sheriff’s deputy to arrive from out in the county. I passed the time by throwing a tennis ball for Chevy in the field. A tennis ball always kept my dog occupied for hours. We were in the middle of a great game of fetch when Deputy Donaldson pulled up. He was known by the locals as Deputy Don.
“So, if it’s not the Butterfly Boy.” Don chuckled as he got out of his squad car.
Chevy recognized him, ran over and forced the slobbery wet tennis ball into the deputy’s hand.
“Sorry, Chevy, duty calls. Not the best time for fetch.”
I took the tennis ball from Deputy Don and tossed it out in the field for Chevy. As he raced after it, I pointed the deputy in the direction of the body.
_________________________
Chevy was affectionately known as Butterfly Boy by most of the search and rescue team personnel in our area. This included Deputy Don Donaldson, since he was also a volunteer cadaver dog handler for the local SAR team. I volunteered as a dog trainer.
The wilderness SAR dogs worked any hour of the day or night to find missing persons lost in the outdoors. That included weather like rain, sleet or snow. These dogs excelled in finding lost people and deceased victims under all types of conditions.
Chevy on the other hand, excelled at playing fetch and making friends. He just did not have the drive to focus on a work assignment. One time, I took Chevy out to test his potential search and rescue abilities. He spent the whole time playing with butterflies, much to the delight of the hard core search and rescue crowd. The name “Butterfly Boy” was born.
It was okay. I loved Chevy for who he was created to be, and he was not meant to be a working dog. He was my best hiking buddy and a friend to animals everywhere. He was a happy momma’s boy, and that was fine with me.
My role in search and rescue had evolved as a trainer. I helped other volunteers get their dogs ready for search and rescue missions.
Today’s hike with Chevy had turned into a body recovery mission that I wanted no part of.
Chapter 3
Deputy Don waltzed over and said, “He is dead all right. Do you know who he is?”
“I don’t think he is from around here,” was the best answer I could come up with.
“There’s no weapon and there are no fresh tire tracks coming in here from the road,” Don noticed. “No one has driven through the mud since the rain last night.”
“Wonder who wrote A.M.B. on his forehead. Did you see anyone else out here today?” The deputy was full of questions.
Since I was stuck talking to him, I let it be known that Jase and his boys had been bothering Miss Judy. Maybe the deputies would have more luck keeping them off her land than I had.
He asked some more basic questions, mainly about how I managed to come across a dead body in the middle of Miss Judy’s field. After a half hour of questioning, I was free to leave.
I walked down the paved road back to Miss Judy’s house as fast as I could go. Chevy easily kept up with me, carrying his slimy tennis ball with pride. When we reached Miss Judy’s house I went straight to my truck.
“Chevy, Load.”
Chevy jumped right into the back of the truck. “Load” was the only command that Chevy always obeyed – mainly because he loved riding in the truck. I had a camper shell installed on the bed of my truck so he could ride safely in the back and have a place to stretch out and rest. It had sliding windows with screens on the side for nice air flow in good weather.
Actually, the camper shell also helped keep the windows clean in the cab of my truck. Chevy loved to lick windows, and he constantly left slobbery lick marks all over the glass. At least this way the lick marks stayed on the windows in the back of the truck.
I jumped in my truck and took off. I would talk to Miss Judy about her beloved deer and Jase Johnson later. Besides, I was sure that the deputies would be up here to talk to her about the dead guy before long.
It would only a be matter of time before Deputy Don found out that this dead stranger - whoever he was – had gotten me fired yesterday. I had enough problems and did not want ‘murder suspect’ added to the list.
I needed to find some information fast. There was one place in town where I could acquire it. I was on my way to get some answers.
Chapter 4
It was almost five o’clock when I pulled up to Millie Ham’s diner. Chevy was barking with delight in the back of the truck and licking the camper shell windows as usual. At least one of us was having a great time.
The bells on the door jingled as I stepped into the diner, announcing that another customer had arrived. The delicious smell of homemade biscuits filled the air. I walked up to the counter and Millie gave me a smile and a big hug.
“Avery, don’t you worry about being fired. I would have saved those animals, too.” Her soft blue eyes showed a motherly concern.
Boy, news sure travels fast in this town, and I had just walked into information central.
“Thanks, Millie. I saw those dogs get hit by a car and just had to get them to the vet. I should have told someone before I left work. But, Millie, my mind was in animal rescue mode and I didn’t even think about it.”
“Why didn’t you fight to keep your job? Lots of people here would back you up, you know,” Miss Millie said.
“I don’t know. The whole thing was stressful. ”
“You need to stand up for yourself more!”
“I have heard that before,” I said laughing. “Anyway, there are other jobs out there.”
“Good for you - but I still think the man that complained about you should get run out of town!” Millie bellowed.
She did not yet know that he had already run out of life, itself.
Suddenly, there was a loud crash right outside the building, followed by the sick sound of metal scraping on metal. I ran to the window and saw that a pickup truck had run straight through the parking lot fence. There was crumpled fence up under the truck tires.
“PAPAW’S HERE! AND HE RUN RIGHT INTO THE FENCE THIS TIME!”
Millie Ham’s five year old granddaughter, Abigal, was right about that. She was a tiny little thing, but had the loudest voice this side of the Smoky Mountains.
Millie looked after Abigal during the day. She seemed like a pretty good kid, but she yelled everything she ever said. Not the best way to communicate, in my opinion.
Charlie Ham lumbered out of the truck, adjusted his worn-out ball cap and headed into the diner just like nothing had happened. He wore denim overalls and farmer boots.
Everyone else went right back to eating their meals.
Charlie’s fender benders were considered normal around this town. They happened pretty much on a daily basis. I never could figure out how he was able to keep his driver’s license. Most folks called him Old Man Crash. I kept it more respectful and just called him Charlie – and I was glad to see him.
Charlie wasted no time updating everyone on the latest gossip.
“I heard they found a dead body out in Miss Judy’s field this afternoon. They’re trying to find out who he is and why he was in town.”
Millie said, “I wonder if it was that man who came in here the other day asking about Crazy Flora Jones?”
I wondered aloud, “A stranger was in here asking about Flora Jones? Who’s that?”
“Flora moved here from up north about a month ago. She bought that old cabin up on Hatcher’s Ridge. Just plain crazy. “
“What’s crazy about her?” I asked.
“She don’t never talk to anyone. It just ain’t normal, if you ask me. Bless her heart, she just stays up there on the ridge and never comes into town. Even sends her son to get groceries.”
She continued on. “Her son’s name is Rick. He loves my banana cream pie. Sure is a handsome young man. I heard he goes to the bar to play pool with Jase Johnson.”
Charlie added, “And he was flirtin’ with your crazy friend, Jamie. You know how Jamie loves to look at all the guys wearin’ jeans.“<
br />
I laughed. “Yes, she does like a man in jeans.”
Boy, the things Miss Millie and Charlie knew about. I wonder what they say about me…
My thoughts were interrupted by little Abigal’s cries.
“PAPAW, JOE JOE’S HITTING ME! TELL JOE JOE TO STOP HITTING MEEEEEEE!”
Charlie calmly said to Abigal’s little brother, “Joe Joe, stop hitting Abigal.”
“JOE JOE, STOP TOUCHING MEEEEE! MAMAW, JOE JOE’S TOUCHING ME!”
It was time for me to get out of there before that kid blew my eardrums out.
As I said good-bye, Milly offered, “Give your sweet Chevy some of my homemade dog cookies.”
She handed me a small paper bag stuffed full of doggie treats.
There was no use arguing with her, so I said “Thanks, Milly. Chevy will love them.”
My dog was one of the most popular folks in town.
As I walked out to the truck, dog cookies in hand, I wondered if Rick was one of the guys I saw driving around earlier with Jase. Maybe they had hunted down more than just Miss Judy’s deer this morning.
Chapter 5
Jamie was not exactly the first person I would have chosen to do detective work, but she was my best lead. I picked up the phone and gave her a call.
“Hey, Jamie, I heard you met a new guy named Rick the other night.”
Jamie squealed with delight. “Oh girl, he is a hunk-a man!”
In Jamie language, that meant he was strong, handsome and looked good in jeans.
I closed my eyes tight and said something I never wanted to say to Jamie. “Do you want to go out to the club tonight?”
“You KNOW IT! Let’s get our party on! Whoo Whoo!” She was ready to go.
Jamie was always ready for fun, especially if there were guys around. She was not a tramp or anything like that. She just liked the attention that came with flirting. I needed to depend on her flirting skills to get more information that night.
I took a deep breath and said, “OKay I’ll meet you there around ten.”
