by Liz Mugavero
Stan could make out the sinister curve of her lips in the shadows. She closed her eyes briefly, offered up a prayer to anyone who was listening. The farther away from civilization they went, the more dread settled in her bones. She couldn’t even hear the movie across the street anymore.
“Good thing Roger was easily paid off. And Enrico, but that bumbling fool didn’t do me any favors. At least he was too scared to talk when they caught him. But if he’d succeeded in damaging the milk supply, Em might have finally caved. Sold me the farm and got out of Dodge. But the best laid plans . . .” She sighed. “And too many people jumped in to help her. Even the rest of our business partners, who always professed their loyalty to my way of thinking. Except for Teddy, of course, but everyone knew he was biased since he was gaga over the boss’s wife. This way.” Leigh-Anne turned left, toward the vehicle storage area where all the big machinery lived. What else was back here? Stan racked her brain. A bunch of storage sheds for feed and hay. The manure pit. More woods.
“Where are we going?”
“For a swim,” Leigh-Anne said matter-of-factly.
A swim? Stan’s heart sank. The manure pit. She remembered Roger’s chilling words on the tour, about the farmers who had died from the methane gas and the churning augers. With her hands tied, she didn’t stand a chance if she went in.
No way. Stan wasn’t about to sit back and let this happen. She had only been on one date with Jake. She had three animals who needed her and a new business that she loved. She was not dying at the hands of a lunatic dairy farmer. Sooner or later Jake had to realize she was in trouble. Or someone would show up at the farm. Wouldn’t they?
But she couldn’t count on that. She had to get herself out of this mess.
“Leigh-Anne!” They both turned. Roger headed across the field toward them.
“Everything all set?” Leigh-Anne asked when he was close.
He nodded, huffing slightly. “She’s a wily one. Spitting mad, too. I had to subdue her. Moved her from the maze to the cow barn. She won’t be trying to run again for a while. What’s the plan for her?”
“We have to take care of this one first,” Leigh-Anne said with a sidelong glance at Stan. “That won’t take long, then I’ll deal with the rest.” And then she calmly swung the gun, which until now had been trained on Stan, toward Roger. Stan watched in horror as she pulled the trigger. The shot cracked through the still night air like a firecracker. Roger went down.
“No!” she gasped.
Leigh-Anne raised her eyebrows. “Oh, hush. He just tied you up, sugar. Please tell me you have more self-respect than to feel bad for him. Let’s go.”
Stan stared at her, real fear creeping into her bones. This lady was nuts. They were the only two left standing on the farm. And Stan’s hands were tied.
“I said, let’s go!” Leigh-Anne jerked her arm. Stan started moving again.
She had to avoid going in, at all costs.
“What will you do once you’ve killed us all, Leigh-Anne?” she asked, forcing her voice to stay calm. “Someone will figure it out. You won’t just be able to run the place like nothing ever happened.”
“Such a doubter.” Leigh-Anne chuckled. “You underestimate me, dear. I have been running my dear, dead husband’s farms with no one the wiser. Everyone feels terribly sorry for me. And the farms are doing quite well, actually. Ever since I made some changes.”
“Changes?”
“Of course. He was another one. Too much license to the cows. The tail was wagging the dog. The inmates were running the asylum. You know all the sayings. Once I tightened the ship, we started making money. Rather, I did. The same will happen with the Happy Cow name. We’ll be the best and most profitable farm co-op in the state. Trust me.”
They neared the manure tank. Stan was almost out of time. She started to sweat, imagining the last grains of sand falling through the hourglass, the remaining years of her life dwindling away faster and faster.
Leigh-Anne shoved her at the thin ladder leading to the narrow platform at the top of the pit. “Climb.”
“How am I supposed to climb with no hands?”
“You’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out. Or I’ll shoot you.” She jammed the gun into her back. “Climb.”
Stan stepped on the first step, almost falling backward. She felt Leigh-Anne almost lift her from behind, forcing her to the next step. The woman was strong, but this might be Stan’s only chance. She could pretend to fall and Leigh-Anne would have no choice but to fall with her. She could either buy some time to run, or the gun could go off. Which wouldn’t be pretty.
She kept climbing. The five stairs felt like five hundred, but she finally made it onto the tiny square platform with Leigh-Anne’s help. The crazy woman had shoved her over the last step, nearly face-planting her on the platform. There was barely enough room for the two of them. Stan felt dizzy looking down into the pit. Were the gases getting to her already? It could be her imagination. But maybe she could use it to save her own life. Either that or Leigh-Anne would just shoot her and throw her in, but that might be an easier death.
It would never work if she didn’t try. If Stan could knock Leigh-Anne off balance long enough to dislodge the gun, she had a fighting chance of getting away. She slowed, let her body sag against Leigh-Anne.
“What are you doing? Stand up!” Leigh-Anne shoved at her—exactly what she wanted her to do.
Stan hip-checked Leigh-Anne with all her might, knocking her against the railing. As Leigh-Anne struggled to regain her balance, Stan used the advantage of the small space and the impact of her elbow to knock the gun loose. She heard the satisfying clatter of it hitting the platform. With a roar, Leigh-Anne went for it. Stan kicked it off the edge onto the grass below. She lost her balance in the process, falling against the flimsy railing. She closed her eyes, waiting for the rail to give and the free fall to begin. But it didn’t. She ended up on her back on the platform. Opened one eye to see if Leigh-Anne was coming for her.
But her hip check had been effective. Leigh-Anne had lost her balance, too, and struggled to regain it and go for the gun at the same time. Stan kicked out with all her might, feeling her foot connect with Leigh-Anne’s knee. Then watched in horror as the other woman fell, almost in slow motion, off the other side of the platform.
Into the manure pit.
Stan heard a scream, then a splash as Leigh-Anne tumbled into the waste below. Then silence. Stan rolled over to her knees and got to her feet, then screamed at the top of her lungs, “Help! Somebody help!”
She had to get Leigh-Anne out of there. No one should die that way. But her hands were still tied. Frantic, she searched for something sharp to slice through the wire as Leigh-Anne’s cries grew louder, her hands waving as she tried to keep her head above the stench. Then she heard different shouts and turned.
Tyler Hoffman raced toward her. Stan was so relieved she almost cried.
“In the pit! She fell in the pit!” she yelled. “Hurry, help me get her out!” She had no idea how long someone survived in a manure pit, but Leigh-Anne wasn’t screaming anymore. Tyler raced up the steps with a pocketknife and cut her hands free.
“Do you have a cell phone? We need to get her out!”
Tyler hesitated for a split second. “She killed my father,” he said, his voice raw with emotion.
Stan grasped him by the shoulders. “Tyler. We can’t let her die in there. Your dad wouldn’t want that. And she needs to pay for what she did.”
He thought about it for the longest few seconds Stan had ever lived through, then handed her his phone.
Stan punched in 911. Tyler grasped a long pole that was clipped to the side of the platform. It had a point on the end. He thrust it into the pit, trying to grab Leigh-Anne. Stan couldn’t tell if she was even able to try swimming. She’d lost sight of her in the muck.
“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?” the dispatcher’s voice droned.
“There’s a woman in a manure pit
at the Happy Cow Dairy Farm! Hurry! Oh, and she’s a murderer. But she needs an ambulance!” She hung up. Paused. That was quite possibly the most bizarre phone call she’d ever made.
Tyler still wrangled the pole, trying to find something to grab on to. Stan scanned the nasty, stinking brown liquid, hoping to see a hand, something. And then, a flash of blond hair that miraculously had not turned brown, just a split second before it disappeared again.
“Tyler, there!” She pointed. He balanced on the very edge of the platform, reaching, reaching. She grabbed his belt so he didn’t fall in, too. And then she saw Leigh-Anne’s lifeless body, pole hooked to her shirt, being pulled back to the edge of the pit. Tyler reached in and hauled her unconscious body out. Breathing hard, he dropped her on the platform.
“You’re amazing. We should get her down on the grass,” Stan said, her stomach turning at the thought of picking up the manure-covered woman. But she ponied up and grabbed her feet, trying to keep her balance as Tyler dragged Leigh-Anne down the ladder. Stan held her feet, inching her down as Tyler reached each step.
“Got her,” he called. “Let go.”
Stan did, jumping the rest of the way down. Tyler dropped Leigh-Anne on the grass. The stench was overpowering. Stan felt her stomach lurch.
“Is she breathing?” Stan asked, but her words were drowned out by sirens. Lots of them. Two police cars crashed right through the field, lights flashing, followed by an ambulance. Jessie Pasquale was out of the car running toward them before it had fully stopped, her weapon in her hand but by her side. When she saw Tyler she raised it. Stan raced toward her and planted herself in front of the boy. “It’s her! She’s the murderer!” she shouted, pointing at Leigh-Anne’s still frame on the grass. “Not Tyler!”
The other cops swarmed out of the cars, followed by the EMTs. “Cuff the one on the ground,” Stan heard her tell them. “And the boy, too, just until we know what happened here.”
“He didn’t do anything! He just saved her life,” Stan yelled.
Pasquale sent her a warning glance, then nodded at the other cop, who followed her instructions. “Get a hose?” Pasquale shouted, wrinkling her nose as the stench of manure wafted toward her.
“How did you get here so fast?” Stan asked. “I just called.”
“Your friend called us. Justin.” At Stan’s blank look, she said, “He sent me the documents from Hal’s computer. I won’t ask how you—or he—came across them. But there was enough evidence to send us looking for Leigh-Anne.”
“Thank God.” And thank God for Justin’s computer skills. “Em’s tied up in the barn. With one of the workers,” Stan said. “I don’t know if she hurt them. And Roger . . .” She gulped. “I think he’s dead. Leigh-Anne shot him.” She took a breath, realized she wasn’t making any sense.
Pasquale stared at her, then pulled out her radio and repeated everything. “We’ll find them,” she said. “Go wait with Tyler. Or maybe you want to go rinse off. Hang on.” She went back to the cruiser, emerged with a towel. Stan accepted it gratefully and attempted to wipe her hands and sleeves.
“Stan!” She turned at the sound of her name. Jake raced across the field toward her. She’d never seen him move so fast. He didn’t stop until he reached her, despite his sister yelling at him to stay out of her crime scene.
“What’s going on? Are you okay?”
“Fine. Smelly. I—” She didn’t get to finish her sentence before he yanked her into his arms, stench and all. And kissed her.
Chapter 36
Halloween, four days later
The line snaking around the Happy Cow Dairy Farm reached all the way into the street. The whole town had turned up for the grand reopening of the haunted corn maze. Em, Tyler, Stan, Jake, and Brenna, along with what seemed like half the town, had spent the last few days getting the maze ready. Em planned to let it remain open until Thanksgiving or until weather prohibited, whichever came first.
“This is great, isn’t it?” Brenna clapped her hands in delight. “I’m so glad we got to do this, Em.”
Em, Brenna, and Stan stood near the ticket booth, watching Jake oversee Tyler and Danny as they collected money. Jake also wrangled Duncan and Henry. Stan and Scruffy were in charge of the spooky music.
“Me, too,” Em said. “And it wouldn’t have happened without all of you. Especially you, Stan.”
Stan shook her head. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Are you kidding?” Em exclaimed. “You figured out it was Leigh-Anne in time to save us! Lord knows what she would’ve done if you hadn’t distracted her. They had already hurt Miguel, poor kid.”
“Will he be okay?”
“He’ll be fine. Nasty bump on the head. But he’s already looking forward to coming back to work.”
“Well, I hope she gets a million years in jail,” Brenna said. “I’m glad you saved her sorry life, Stan. She should pay for what she did.”
“Tyler saved her life,” Stan said.
“Not without your coaching.” Em wagged her finger at Stan. “I know my boy. He’s a teenager, and he runs on emotion. He would’ve probably left her there. Regretted it later, sure, but then it would be too late.”
Stan shrugged, uncomfortable with the praise. “Well, it will be one count of murder and one count of attempted murder, since Roger survived. Not to mention kidnapping and assault, I would think.”
“How’s Tyler doing?” Stan asked.
Em sighed. “Okay. He’s still processing. He told me he’s leaving school and moving to California.”
“California!” Brenna and Stan said together.
“He wants a change of scenery. Can’t say I blame him.” Em looked around wistfully. “It’s going to be difficult. Even with the changes I’m sure we’ll be making.”
“What changes?” Stan asked.
“Well, Teddy and I”—Em blushed a little just saying his name—“are going to consolidate our operations. We haven’t quite figured out what that means yet, but I think it’ll be for the best. Oh, look! Char’s here.”
Char came up behind Stan and laid a hand on her shoulder. “What a great turnout! So proud of y’all!” Char stood behind her, beaming, dressed in a bright orange dress and black scarf. “And, Stan! You deserve a medal of honor.”
“Yes,” Patricia Connor said, appearing behind Char. “You certainly do.” And she reached over and hugged Stan.
Stan couldn’t keep her mouth from dropping open. She finally remembered to hug her mother back. “Thanks, Mom. And I don’t deserve a medal. I just did what I needed to do.”
“Well, I’m proud of you,” Patricia said.
Stan again was speechless. Especially since her mother didn’t seem to have trouble saying the words.
“Thanks,” she managed.
Patricia studied Stan’s face. “You look happy.”
“I am happy.” Stan couldn’t resist a glance over at the ticket booth. Jake happened to be looking in her direction at the same time. He winked at her.
Her near-death experience with the manure pit had been a good thing for them. They’d spent a lot of time together over the past few days. Stan hated to jinx anything, but there was a good chance they might be casually dating. When she turned back to her mother she was smiling. “I like it here.”
“You like the bar owner. Perhaps more than the town. And I think that’s great.” She leaned over and kissed Stan’s cheek.
Maybe her mother had actually thought about what it would be like to lose her daughter for good, and this was her attempt to tell her that. Maybe it was time for them to start fresh, too.
“About Tony,” Patricia began, but Stan shook her head. “Mom, you don’t need to explain. You have just as much right to be happy. Just make sure he’s not a sketch. He was hanging out with Leigh-Anne when I met him.”
“I know. He feels terrible about that. He’s known her a long time and never suspected. It’s so troubling, how people are able to hide their true selves. Oh, I think your friend is
waiting for you.” She pointed. Stan turned to see Izzy waiting behind her.
“I didn’t want to interrupt,” Izzy began, but Stan motioned for her to join them.
“Come over and meet my mother!” She made the introductions. “So how are you? You look great!”
Izzy did. Dressed to the nines in pink jeans, a white jacket, and a green scarf, her long braids gathered together in a high ponytail, she looked better than she had in weeks. The twinkle was even back in her eye.
“So what’s the story? Any good news to report?” Stan walked her a little way from the crowd, leaving Scruffy with Brenna, so they could talk.
“Actually, yeah. Really great news.” Izzy took a breath. “I think I have a solution for the real estate stuff. And I’m going to be able to have my bookstore after all.”
“Really? That’s great!” Stan hugged her friend. She deserved to be happy. “So what’s the solution?”
“Well, it’s all because of you, girl. Really. You had the idea. I just had to get the guts to follow through.”
“Aww, Izzy. You have plenty of guts. You just needed to hear the options. So what’d you do? Contact a local bank?”
“Nope. I went to see Jake. We talked for a long time.”
“Wow. Really?” Jake hadn’t mentioned it. “Fantastic. Did he have a lead for you?”
“Not exactly.” Izzy took a deep breath. “We’re going into business together.”
RECIPES
Dog Bone Cake Recipe
Ingredients:
Bowl One:
1 cup peanut butter
3 eggs
1.5 cups water
In a separate bowl combine:
2 cups wheat flour
.5 cup oat flour
3 Tbsp baking powder
3 Tsp baking soda
Grease and flour the bottom of a 9-x-11-inch cake pan.
Combine all cake ingredients. Do not overmix. Pour into pan and bake immediately at 350° F for 40 minutes. Let cool completely before turning out. Cut out bone shape. Wrap and freeze.
