Bug Man Suspense 3-in-1 Bundle

by Tim Downs

  “Then I will let you return to your work.” Pasha turned to Habib. “And you—you will have the insects ready?”

  “Of course,” Habib said indignantly.

  Pasha took a silver pen from his shirt pocket. He closed one eye and aimed it at Habib’s chest. “No more mistakes, Habib.” He winked and dropped the pen back into his pocket. “You only get one.”

  Nick pulled into the gravel driveway in front of the barn and got out of the car. He could see the tip of Alena’s head halfway across the field. He wondered how much of the five acres she and Ruckus had finished and how much they still had left to go. He saw Alena turn to him and wave; Nick waved back. She started walking toward him, and Nick headed for the tomato fields to meet her—but before he was halfway there he heard a pleasant voice calling from behind: “Nick!”

  Kathryn was approaching from the farmhouse with Callie in tow.

  “Nick!” Callie shouted too. Her voice was half-greeting and halfscream.

  “Hi, Callie,” Nick said. “Read any good books lately?”

  Callie pulled away from her mother and started back toward the house, but Kathryn caught her by the hand. “She thinks you’re telling her to go read a book,” Kathryn explained. “They don’t understand clichés and they don’t get sarcasm.”

  “Most women don’t,” Nick said. “Heaven knows I’ve tried.”

  “What are you doing here? I didn’t expect to see you until you check the temperature tonight.”

  “I’ve got something I need to check on first,” he said.

  “What is it?”

  Nick held up a clear plastic specimen bottle; in the bottom were half a dozen lifeless larvae.

  “What are they?”

  “The same things we found in your field—tobacco hornworms. These only look different because they’re a little older. They’re greener and larger than the ones we picked off your plants.”

  “Where did you get those?”

  “They came from the eggs I collected that first night.” He handed the bottle to Kathryn.

  She held the lid between her thumb and forefinger as if the bottle might be radioactive.

  “Look closely,” Nick said. “See the little growth coming out of the tops of their heads?”

  Kathryn held the bottle up to the sun and squinted. “I can’t see anything—they’re too small.”

  Nick took off his glasses and held them out to her.

  Kathryn didn’t take the glasses; she just stood there staring at Nick’s eyes.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I haven’t seen you without your glasses in a long time.”

  “I’ve never seen you without them at all.”

  “You know, your eyes are really very nice.”

  “They’re like celebrities,” Nick said, “beautiful but useless.”

  Kathryn slipped on the spectacles and grinned up at him. “How do I look?”

  “How would I know?”

  She hooked her arm through his. “I feel like Mrs. Polchak.”

  “You think I’d marry someone who looks like me? How blind do you think I am?”

  Just then Alena emerged from the fields with Ruckus trotting beside her. She smiled at Nick—but when she saw Kathryn standing beside him, arm in arm, her expression changed. “Cute,” she said. “Do you guys share outfits too?”

  “Nick was just showing me something,” Kathryn said.

  “Lucky you.” She looked at Nick’s face. “I’ve never seen you without your glasses before.”

  “It’s part of my mystique,” Nick said. “Can we get back to business now? I’m feeling a little naked here.”

  Kathryn held up the specimen bottle and moved it back and forth like the slide of a trombone. “I can’t seem to focus,” she said. She took off the glasses and used them like a magnifier instead.

  “See them now?”

  “Yes, I see them.” Kathryn handed the bottle and glasses to Alena. “Look at their heads,” she said. “They look like little bean sprouts.”

  Alena held the glasses up to the bottle and looked. “Yeah, I see them too. So?”

  “So they’re not supposed to be there.” Nick held his hand out in front of him. “Are you two finished?”

  “Not so fast,” Alena said. “I kind of like you this way.”

  Both women smiled and watched until Nick finally said, “You know, ladies, I’m more than just an object of desire.” He wiggled his fingers.

  Alena placed the glasses in his hand.

  Nick slipped them on and headed immediately for the tomato fields. “Help me look, both of you.” He glanced at Kathryn. “Can you?”

  “I’ll give it a try. What are we searching for?”

  “The same thing you saw in that bottle. The students had to have missed a few—we need to find them. Check the undersides of the leaves.”

  They all began to search. Kathryn started with the lowest branches, timidly peeling them back and bracing herself as if a snake might lunge out at any moment.

  “Not down there,” Nick said. “Try the highest branches first.”

  “We found most of them on the bottom branches before,” Alena said.

  “These are different—they’re climbers.”

  It took thirty minutes before they finally found one. Kathryn called out, “I think I’ve got one—but it looks like it’s dead.” She held back the leaf while Nick checked.

  “Bingo,” he said. It was a hornworm larva, in exactly the same stage of development as the larvae in Nick’s laboratory—and it was dead just like the rest of them.

  “It has that same little thingy,” Alena said. “What is that?”

  “I don’t know,” Nick said. “‘Little thingy’ will have to do for now.” He took the larva between his thumb and forefinger and gently tugged; the dead larva was still clinging to the leaf with its mandible.

  “That is really bizarre,” Nick said under his breath.

  After an hour of searching they had managed to find only two more specimens. Both of them had the same strange growth, and both were tenaciously clinging to the highest leaves even after death.

  “Why is this important?” Kathryn asked.

  “The specimens in my lab were all dead,” Nick said. “They could have been poisoned or suffocated, but yours are dead too. That means this parasite, whatever it is, is responsible for their deaths. If we can figure out what it is, we might know where it came from. That might tell us where the hornworms originated—and even who put them there . . .” His voice trailed off, and for the next thirty seconds he said nothing.

  Nick suddenly blinked and shook his head. “Oh, by the way—does anybody want to go to a cocktail party tomorrow night?”

  Both women stared.

  “You don’t do that,” Kathryn grumbled.

  “Do what?” Nick asked.

  “Treat us like a couple of dogs. Toss an invitation out there like it was some kind of bone just to see if one of us would—”

  “I’ll go,” Alena said.

  Kathryn’s mouth dropped open.

  Alena shrugged. “I’m not busy.”

  Kathryn spun around without a word and stormed off toward the house.

  21

  Ruckus pointed his nose at the base of the tomato plant. His little nose quivered like a butterfly as he moved his snout back and forth above the ground.

  Nothing.

  Alena snapped her fingers and pointed to the next plant in the long row—but Ruckus suddenly came to attention and began to growl.

  Now Alena heard it too—footsteps approaching from the direction of the farmhouse. Heavy, deliberate footsteps; whoever it was wasn’t trying to conceal his approach.

  Suddenly Kathryn pushed between two bushy tomato plants and stepped into the empty row. She planted her fists on her hips and glared at Alena. “Have you no pride at all?”

  Alena looked at her through half-raised eyelids. “Excuse me?”

  “How can you let a man get away with something
like that?”

  “Like what?”

  “What Nick just did back there.”

  “You mean invite me to a cocktail party?”

  “He didn’t invite you, he invited both of us. That’s insulting.”

  “Why? He needed a date for a cocktail party. He asked if anybody wanted to go. I did—apparently you didn’t.”

  “What if I had said yes too?”

  Alena shrugged. “Then I guess he would have had to choose.”

  “And the two of us were supposed to just stand there while he went, ‘Eeny, meeny, miney, moe.’”

  “I would have.”

  “Well, not me.”

  “Men do it all the time. Didn’t you ever play baseball?”

  “This is a little different, don’t you think?”

  “I don’t see why.”

  Kathryn’s eyes were like burning slits now. “You know the difference between you and me, Alena? I have dignity and you don’t.”

  “Good for you. Me, I’m going to a cocktail party.”

  “Well, I’d rather have my dignity.”

  “Is that what this is about? Dignity?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I thought you weren’t interested in Nick.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Then why do you care who he invited?”

  “I don’t—I just don’t like the way he did it.”

  “You’re interested. You might as well admit it ’cause I already know. I can see it on your face every time you look at him.”

  “I just lost my husband a few days ago.”

  “Your husband left you a year ago. That’s plenty of time to get lonely.”

  “I’m telling you, I’m not interested in Nick.”

  “You know how to tell a really good liar, Kathryn? She can even lie to herself.”

  “Are you accusing me of lying?”

  “Stop changing the subject—you’re interested in Nick. I’m not saying you want to be, you just are. I think you feel bad about it—maybe even a little guilty. That’s why you won’t admit it.”

  “Can I ask you something? Does it really take this long to search five acres? Or are you just stalling so you can hang around Nick a little longer?”

  “Let me ask you something,” Alena replied. “Do you really care who killed your husband? Or are you just looking for a replacement?”

  Kathryn’s jaw dropped. “That is the meanest thing anybody ever—”

  They were interrupted by the sound of a pickup truck crunching to a stop on the gravel driveway. They both stood on tiptoes and watched as a man stepped out and shut the door.

  Kathryn shook her head in exasperation. “Oh, no. Not him again.”

  “Who is he?”

  Kathryn didn’t answer—she just started down the row toward the driveway.

  Alena hesitated, then called the dog to heel and followed. When she came to the end of the row she stopped. Kathryn and the stranger were facing each other in the clearing about twenty feet away; from where she was standing she could hear their entire conversation.

  “What do you want, Tully?”

  “Now is that any way to greet a neighbor?”

  “Is this a neighborly visit? I’ve never known you to make one.”

  “I heard about your little problem the other day. Just thought I’d stop by and see how things are going.”

  “What problem is that?”

  “Come on, Kathryn, a few days ago you had half of NC State out here—I could see the cars from my house. I walked out to the road and talked to a couple of the kids when they were leaving—they told me what happened. Tobacco hornworms—now that’s bad luck.”

  “Luck is a funny thing,” she said. “So what’s on your mind, Tully?”

  He paused. “Let me buy the place, Kathryn.”

  She looked at him in disbelief.

  “I’ll give you a fair price. You know I will.”

  “What does it take to get through to you, Tully? How many times do I have to tell you no?”

  “Think about the hornworms, Kathryn. That was this year—what about next? Next year it’ll be fruitworms or stinkbugs or flea beetles. Then what are you gonna do?”

  “I handled the hornworms just fine, thank you.”

  “Sure you did—you and fifty college students. But what happens when they’re not around anymore? Can you afford to hire help like that? Your boyfriend the professor can’t rescue you forever, you know.”

  “What did you say?”

  “The students told me about him—I figured they didn’t just show up on their own. Hey, I don’t blame you. Michael’s gone, and a woman in your position has got to be thinking about a meal ticket.”

  Kathryn pointed to his truck. “Get out. Now.”

  Alena suddenly realized that her fists were both clenched.

  “I’m not leaving,” Tully said. “Not until you listen to reason.”

  Alena felt the hair stand up on the back of her neck. She started forward.

  “I’m telling you to go home,” Kathryn said. “Do I have to call the police?”

  “Now calm down. Let’s not lose our heads here.”

  Alena stepped up beside Kathryn. “Is this a friend of yours, Kathryn?”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think so.” She glared at the man. “Sounds to me like you’re trying to buy my friend out—and she’s not interested.”

  “Who’re you?”

  “A friend. Sounds to me like you’ve tried more than once—and she’s still not interested. Am I right?”

  “It’s none of your concern.”

  “If it concerns my friend it concerns me. Can I ask you something?”

  “What?”

  “My friend here is very polite, so she won’t ask you this—but I never had much use for ‘polite,’ so I’ll just go ahead and ask. Why do you suppose those bugs just suddenly showed up in Kathryn’s field?”

  “What? What are you suggesting?”

  “You’re not very bright, are you? Okay, let me spell it out for you: I think you planted those bugs in her field so you could buy her place on the cheap.”

  “Are you accusing me?”

  “You seem to be a few steps behind. Maybe we should stop and wait for you to catch up.”

  Tully took a step closer and pointed a finger in Alena’s face. “I’ll tell you what I think, missy—I think you’d better be careful who you go around accusing.” He turned to Kathryn. “I’ll tell you something too: An unmarried woman with a twisted little girl should be doing some serious thinking about her future.”

  Kathryn could only get one word out: “Twisted?”

  Alena shook her head. “Boy—you really aren’t very bright, are you?” She raised her right hand high overhead and snapped her fingers once; they made a sound like the report of a rifle. Then she slowly lowered the arm until her hand was pointing at Tully’s throat in an ominous clutching gesture.

  Tully looked at her hand. “What’s that supposed to do?”

  “You’re about to find out.”

  An instant later a streak of black fur shot across Kathryn’s shoulder. Phlegethon turned his massive head in midair and took the man by the throat, sending him crashing headlong onto the grass. Tully lay on his back, stunned and breathless, while the enormous dog stood over him with the man’s throat still in his jaws.

  Alena walked over and knelt down beside him. She looked down at his face, then up at Kathryn. “This is my favorite part,” she said.

  When Tully found his breath he grabbed the dog by the snout and tried to pry off its jaws.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Alena said. “He won’t hurt you unless I tell him to—but he won’t let you get away. The harder you struggle, the harder he’ll bite down. I’d relax if I were you.”

  “Don’t hurt him,” Kathryn said.

  Alena threw her hands in the air. “See what I mean? She’s so polite! Now me, I would seriously consider having Phlegethon tea
r your throat out right now. See, there’s this thing I’ve trained him to do: I snap my fingers, then I make this little twisty motion with my hand—I’d better not show you so he doesn’t get the wrong idea. I twist, and then he twists, and before you know it you’re really going home.”

  “Please,” Kathryn said. “I don’t need legal trouble.”

  “Well, you’ve got it,” Tully choked out.

  Alena looked down at him doubtfully. “I don’t think so, ace. Two helpless women assaulted by the big bully next door? Wouldn’t a jury love that—wouldn’t your wife love that!” She looked up and saw Kathryn wiping tears from her eyes.

  Alena smiled at her. “I tell you what. Why don’t you go see how Callie’s doing while Tully and I say our good-byes?”

  Kathryn looked at her hesitantly.

  “It’s okay. Really.”

  Kathryn mouthed the word Please.

  Alena crossed her heart and held up her hand in a solemn pledge. She waited until the farmhouse door closed behind Kathryn before she looked down at Tully again.

  “Now it’s just you and me,” she said. “I’m going to ask you a couple of questions, and I’m only going to ask them once. If I think you’re lying to me, I’ll have my dog clamp down on your windpipe until you turn blue. And I know when a man is lying to me, Tully—so either you’d better be the world’s best liar or you’d better tell me the truth. Got it?”

  Tully did his best to nod.

  “Did you put those bugs in Kathryn’s field?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know who did?”

  “No.”

  “Did you have anything at all to do with her husband’s death?”

  “Of course not.”

  Alena studied his eyes for a moment, then slowly nodded. “Well, what do you know? You’re not a complete jerk after all.”

  “Call off your dog,” Tully said.

  “In a minute. First I’m going to walk over to that truck of yours and see if you’ve got a gun rack or a revolver in the glove compartment, ’cause you’re just the kind of big baby who might come back over here and shoot a girl.”

  She did. The truck was clean.

  “Satisfied?” he asked.

  “Almost—just a couple of final things we need to cover.” She bent down close to his ear and lowered her voice to a whisper. “You’re not getting this farm,” she said. “Not now, not ever. She’ll salt the fields and burn the house down before she sells it to you—I’ll make sure of it. Never, ever offer to buy this place again—it hurts her feelings, and I don’t like to see her hurt. And one more thing, Tully: If I ever hear you call that beautiful little girl ‘twisted’ again, I won’t need a dog—I’ll tear your throat out myself.”