Behind The Curve-The Farm | Book 2 | The Farm

by Craven III, Boyd

  “I can’t believe we’re finally done with that,” Curt told her, sitting across from her in their dinette in the cabin.

  “I still have these,” Andrea said quietly, pointing at the casts, “and I’ll still have the scars for a long time.”

  “I know baby,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee. “I wish you hadn’t had to do that, but you wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t.”

  “I know that here,” she said tapping her temple, “but do I believe it here?” She touched the spot over her heart.

  “If it didn’t bother you at some level, I guess you wouldn’t really be you, would you?”

  “I just want things to go back to normal,” she said, fighting back tears.

  “You can go back to the hospital if you want, but on my end of things, the real estate arena is about as dead as the stock market.”

  Andrea groaned. “I know, don’t remind me. No, I meant normal, not this new normal bullshit. Life like it was before the world went crazy. Where people didn’t think it was ok to just flip cars and burn buildings. A world where people think there are consequences for hurting and trying to kill people. It is ugly out there right now. I want a world where life is special, to everyone.”

  “I think we all want that,” Curt told her.

  Seventeen

  Sheriff Jeff Robertson got off the phone with Doctor Weaver, and sat back in the seat of his truck, sighing. He had been tailing a government plated SUV. When he ran the tags, it had come back from the Department of Homeland Security. Of course, him checking tags would alert somebody higher up the food chain and they would be aware that he was watching them, so he was not trying to be totally sneaky about things.

  Right now, he was stopped as the SUV in front of him pulled over in front of a corn field at the far edge of his county. The farm itself was owned by an elderly man who lived in the nursing home in the area. His kids and grandkids leased the land to another farmer in the area in an old school sweetheart deal. The guy farming it paid a cash value equal to the taxes and the landowner got ten percent of the profits instead of just cash up front. It put the risk and reward on equal footings for both parties.

  And it looked like USDA agents in a DHS vehicle were getting out, to start inspecting the corn stalks that would not be ready for harvest until the fall. Sheriff Robertson watched them, often with binoculars. Several were armed like the agents that had been arrested at the doctors’ farm, but all of them at least had a sidearm and vests with their agency's tag on them. Sheriff Robertson pulled out his phone and started recording, hoping to get some faces and names to go along with those he had been following.

  Once most of the group had disappeared into the corn, Sheriff Robertson turned on his lights, pulling in behind the agents. They just glanced at him and two of the men gave him half a wave. He had counted five going into the corn with these extras to watch the car, apparently.

  “Good morning boys,” Sheriff Robertson said getting out of his truck. “What are you all up to?”

  “Inspections, counts, getting an idea of what can be expected harvest-wise from this area,” one of them answered. He wore a USDA tag on his vest.

  “You all go around heavily armed to inspect the corn crops around here?” Sheriff Robertson asked, grinning.

  “After what happened at the Langtry Farm, everybody is leery. Did our people get in touch with you, Sheriff Robertson?” the agent asked him.

  “No, and after I arrested the last bunch, the only thing I hear from your people is threats. Do you know who owns the land here?” he asked, looking as the agents in the corn started working their way back to the SUV.

  “Doesn’t matter to me personally,” the agent said. “We’re just gauging capacities and expected harvests.”

  “So, is there any truth to the rumors that your agencies are going to be confiscating crops, animals and land?”

  “You heard those rumors?” An agent who had just walked out of the corn asked, making the sheriff turn.

  “Yeah, any truth to them?” he asked.

  He did not see the man he had been originally talking to walk up behind him on silent feet, pulling a small syringe out.

  “You’ll never find out,” the agent said, plunging the needle into the sheriff’s neck.

  Sheriff Robertson felt his heart flutter and somebody pulling his hand away from his pistol.

  “Get him in the truck,” he said to another agent.

  A crushing pain centered over Sheriff Robertson’s chest and he gasped for breath. He had broken out into a hard sweat and felt waves of nausea. Whatever they had given him had caused a heart attack, he thought. His body was weak. They would find…

  Eighteen

  Not only did Goldie can some smoked pork sausage, but some burger the boys had ground up for her from the beef they had in the storeroom. She was going to work on rendering some fat down, but got interrupted with the arrival of the state police. The group, including Rob and Harry, were all out in the big equipment barn. Rob was going over the combine and teaching others what he knew. He was about to cut hay, rake it into windrows and then when it was dry enough, make round bales.

  It was a simple enough process, and although Goldie did not know how to run the machines, she knew the theory and was keeping busy with her canning. The rumors she had heard about food confiscation really had her scared. The entire farm was self-sufficient, from making their own feed for the chickens and grain for the cows and pigs to growing hay for the cows and goats. Soon, she would have some goats milk and then she would be the one who had to teach them something new. Or in her case, something lost and forgotten.

  The intercom buzzed at the gate. Goldie waited a moment, then when nobody answered she pushed the button.

  “Langtry Farm, how can I help ya?”

  “State police, ma’am. We need to speak to several members of the farm. Can you let us in?”

  “Let me call my son, he’s got the gate control doohickey,” Goldie said.

  “That’s fine ma’am.”

  Goldie checked the clock and the pressure canner that had not quite started steaming yet. She killed the heat to it and walked out of the house. Roscoe was sleeping on the porch in a fat sunbeam near the rocking chair Dewie had liked to sit in. Seeing her come out on the porch, the dog flopped to his feet, letting out an excited woof.

  “Let’s go find the fellas,” she told the dog. “Cops are here.”

  Woof. Roscoe was not much for communication, but he understood she wanted to go find the other hairless monkeys. Roscoe let out a louder hunting bark and took off running in the direction he last remembered everybody going. He could have tracked them by scent, but he could hear them.

  “Crazy assed dog,” Goldie mumbled, walking into the front of the equipment barn as one of the big machines fired up.

  “Hey!” she waved both hands over her head, and the big tractor shut off.

  “Hey Ma,” Andrea said.

  “Police are at the gate. I told them one of you has the doohickey, but I figured I’d tell ya in person to let you decide with all those gadgets if it’s really them or not.”

  “Let’s go find out,” Anna said, hopping into the UTV that Andrea had been using less and less of. Still, Andrea got in the driver’s side with a grin. “Maybe it’s about the caves?”

  “No way to know,” Curt told them. “If it’s them, have them come back here. I figure they aren’t here on a social call.”

  “Is everybody armed, just in case it isn’t them?” Rob asked, having taken over security for the group.

  “Yup. You still have my baby thunder lizard?” Anna asked Rob, who snickered.

  “Sitting next to the door,” he said seriously. “Thanks again for the loan.”

  Anna made a rude gesture at Rob, then looked mollified when Harry snickered. Angelica rolled her eyes. Then Rob took the rifle Anna had put together for him, and went to the loft office in the barn. It was a small eight by eight room with a ladder. It had probably started off a
s a platform for storage, but over the years it had been outfitted with insulated walls, two windows and a door. A buddy heater had been left in there with several small propane tanks. Rob thought when Dewie had been younger and able to climb ladders that he might have used that room to hunt. It had a great field of fire and it was one of the higher points the group had on the property.

  “Got your ears on?” Rob asked into the radio.

  “Sure do,” Anna told him. “I see three state cars lined up.”

  “Ok, I’m in the barn loft. Give me a second… Yeah, that’s them. Want me to open it remotely, or do you want to do it at the gate?”

  “Go ahead,” Anna told him over the radio.

  Rob could hear the group below, talking softly about what was going on and why they had come out. The farm had had its share of craziness and police presence lately, but they couldn’t think of anything that would bring them back out, unless it was the old remains they’d found in the cave.

  “I’ve got to get back to my canning. Harry, how about you and the pups come with me, so we don’t get under the police officers’ feet?”

  “But Grandma…”

  “Did I mention we’re baking cookies? We have to use up some of the eggs.”

  “Ok,” he said, sounding more excited than he did before.

  “We’re here to talk to Doctor Weaver,” the officer said to Anna who was on his side.

  “Which one?” she said, pulling her radio out. “I’ll call them on the radio to meet up with us at the medical center if you want?”

  “Doctor Leah Weaver,” the officer said, “and wherever is fine.”

  “Leah?” Anna said into the radio, “these officers want to speak to you.”

  “Have them pull up to the big barn, we’re all still hanging out,” Rob said over the radio.

  “Copy,” Anna told him and turned back to the officer who was smiling at her.

  “You heard him?” she asked.

  “Yeah, are you guys getting ready to harvest?” he asked. “Seems too early for corn and soy.”

  “Getting ready to cut hay. A bunch of us are learning the basics of the machinery and preventative maintenance things. Follow us,” she motioned.

  “I hope they put the dogs up, Roscoe has been chasing me around on the cart lately.”

  “He’s been more active lately, since he’s been working with Rob and Harry,” Anna told her as they drove slowly, the state police cruisers crunching on the gravel drive keeping pace with them.

  “I’m glad. After I saw what Roscoe could do,” Andrea shuddered.

  “Yeah, I was right there too. I never knew he had it in him. I thought he’d use bodily functions as WMDs to knock the rioters out.”

  “Saddam's mustard gas has nothing on a Roscoe fart,” Andrea said in a funny voice, and the absurdity of it made Anna giggle.

  They pulled up to the equipment barn and Andrea shut down the side by side, getting her crutch out and getting to her feet. Anna did the same as three cruisers opened and six men and women got out.

  “Hey folks, what can we do for you?” Curt asked, putting an arm around his wife’s shoulders.

  “We need to speak to Leah Weaver,” the first trooper Anna had spoken to said.

  “Right here,” she said stepping forward. “What can I do for you folks?”

  “We need you to come with us, we’ve got some questions.” The trooper answered, suddenly noticing Rob coming down the stairs with a big rifle across his back.

  “I’d rather stay here, so go ahead and ask your questions.”

  “Sorry ma’am, that’s not how it’s going to work,” a different one said, and with a start, she realized it was the one who had been paired up with Sherry before. She wasn’t there now though.

  “Unless you’re arresting her,” Dante said loudly, “or have a warrant, then no, that’s not exactly how it’s going to work.”

  “I’m calling Baron,” Anna said quietly to Steven who nodded.

  “Are you arresting me?” Leah asked them, stepping forward.

  “No ma’am, but you’re a person of interest in an open case…”

  “Then I’m sure my lawyer would be happy to set up a time for the both of us to come in and answer your questions, but that isn’t going to happen right now.”

  “Ma’am, I don’t think you understand,” a hot-headed cop said, getting in front of her. “You’re coming with us.”

  “Unless I know why, and am provided with my attorney, I don’t think I want to talk to you. Now, if you are going to arrest me and take me in, get it over with. If you’re not arresting me, then please get your passive aggressive ass off my farm,” Leah said to the aggressive cop, who started huffing and puffing, his face turning red.

  “I don’t think you understand ma’am—”

  “Settle down Jeremy,” one of the lady troopers said behind him. “You only heard Edward’s story about what happened here.”

  “This is about that?” Dante asked, surprised. “One of your state troopers made the arrest herself.”

  “And she got too cozy with the suspects,” the angry one snarled.

  “Oh, so that local cop… he was your butt buddy? Did you two take turns blowing each other between donut stops or—”

  “Shut up,” he screamed. “You’re coming with me,” he said, and roughly grabbed Leah’s arm, who let out a yelp of pain.

  The front door of the house opened and nearly three hundred and fifty pounds of fury came at a silent run. That is, until Roscoe let out a hunting howl, making several of the cops who hadn’t been at the farm before startle when they saw what was running for them, closing the distance faster than they could react to the threat. A couple pulled their handguns just as Rob growled, “Heel UP.”

  Both dogs slowed at the last second, the aggression going out of their movements and then they sat down on the gravel drive between Rob and Angelica.

  “You better control your dogs,” the angry trooper said.

  “You better control yours. Really, that’s some fucking piss poor trigger control,” Rob said, pointing. “Makes a person nervous. Threatened even. None of us have pulled guns on you, yet you’ve assaulted the owner and pulled your guns. Do you want to explain yourself before we feel like you’ve gone from an illegal arrest to an attempted kidnapping?”

  “You know that’ll never stick,” one of the lady troopers said with a chuckle.

  “I think you forget, you’re way outnumbered here. Those who live get to say their piece, and the way you’re acting right now,” Rob said pointing at the woman while Leah yanked her shoulder away from the cop, “makes me, at least, feel like a felony is being committed against folks who live here. It’d be great to use your own body cameras against your argument. Especially the hothead here. I’m sure the doc is going to sue your ass into orbit. Seems the group here has good lawyers.”

  “Good enough to skate on murder charges, but we won’t let your money and lawyers get you out of this one.”

  “Murder charges?” Leah asked, suddenly the anger and fear going out of her voice. “Who died?”

  “Sheriff Robertson,” the angry cop snarled in her face, then he too let go of the anger when he saw the absolute confused look on her face.

  “When?” she asked. “I just talked to him on the phone two days ago.”

  “He died two days ago. As far as we know, you were the last one to talk to him. In the manner he was killed, it was supposed to have looked like an accident.”

  “Ok, now we’re getting somewhere,” Leah told them. “I called his office and then his personal cell phone number because I saw more of those blacked out SUVs like the USDA goons were driving. I didn’t want to call 911, because I knew that would go out to everybody and honestly, it sounds stupid.”

  “You called him because you saw suspicious vehicles? Where?” the woman trooper asked, standing next to the previously angry one.

  “I was right here on our road. I went over and checked on Lyle’s family. The
y all got sick from us the night they came over to help. Since we’ve already had it, I wanted to make sure they were ok and to see if they needed anything.”

  “So, they’ll be able to give you an alibi for your whereabouts that day?”

  “Sure, and I came right back here. I’m sure the fancy GPS in my phone and vehicle would confirm where I was. Heck, I’ll even voluntarily sign papers so you can pull that up if you don’t believe the folks here who saw me.”

  The troopers looked confused. “You want to come in and talk? It’d probably help lower tensions if we all had a glass of something sweet and cold,” Rob said nonchalantly.

  “Might not need lawyers after all,” Dante said, pulling Leah close to him.

  “Speak for yourself,” she said. “My damn shoulder hurts.”

  The trooper who’d grabbed her looked at the ground, ashamed. “Doctor Weaver, we at first thought Sheriff Robertson had had a heart attack, but the coroner noticed an angry spot on his neck, and his heart attack was brought on by an injection.”

  “Alright,” Leah said. “I can sort of see why you thought doctor right off the bat, and considering he’s been here himself… He had that scare here.”

  “And it would make sense to come and talk with the doctor who he last spoke with. He ended up dead, they’re guessing, more or less within an hour of your call. His dash cam and body cam both had the cards removed, which sounds bad, but if he had forgotten to put them in, which happens to anybody…” There were nods and uh huhs from the police who had come in hell bent on arresting somebody, but were now sullen and quiet. “We really do want you to come in and talk. Make it official.”

  “I’ve got Baron on the phone,” Anna piped up. “He said if you want to talk to her at the station, you’ll have to wait for him, and for her to be quiet until then.”

  The angry one let out a big sigh. “Have him there in thirty minutes,” he said. “Doctor Weaver, we can give you a ride—”

  “I’ll drive her in,” Dante said to the angry cop.