Murder at the Ostrich Farm

by London Lovett

  I continued on confidently toward the gate but was again thrown off my stride when George Dawson was there to meet us. He looked far from happy.

  "Don't tell me you've an item to return?" he said gruffly, before casting a suspicious glance at Kellan.

  "Actually, I'm here to see Miss Dawson," I said with as much confidence as I could muster. "She's expecting me."

  "No, she's not because the message you left went to me. Ruby doesn't know you're here. Now, perhaps you can explain why you've shown up at the farm again when it is clearly closed to the public."

  "I can't tell you, but if you talk to your daughter this can easily be cleared up." I didn't want to betray Ruby's trust by letting her father know about the investigation. It was her secret to tell, not mine." I sensed that Kellan was more than slightly confused by the harsh greeting.

  It seemed we'd hit a road block, and without any reasonable explanation, George Dawson was not going to let us on his farm. I couldn't blame him really, especially with all that had happened in the past few days. A movement behind him caught my attention. Wanda was walking out of the ticket office. She glanced up to see what was happening at the entrance gate. Her gaze landed on me, then she hurried away toward the office building. I could only hope she was off to find Ruby. I needed to stall.

  "Mr. Dawson, I'm sure if you talk to your daughter this can all be cleared up." I smiled sweetly.

  "Ruby is busy. She doesn't have time for this, so I'll have to ask the both of you to turn around and leave. We're very busy here, and we don't have time for intruders." He squinted angrily. He was nothing like the jovial, enthusiastic man I'd seen on the day we visited the farm. The murder and the upheaval it left in its wake had thoroughly dampened his spirits. "You aren't a reporter, are you? Because I've already told that nosy journalist from the Valley Star that—"

  "No, no sir, I promise you I'm not a journalist."

  "Father," Ruby called, "Father, they are here to see me." She had run from the office and was breathless by the time she reached the gate. "Miss Starfire and—" She stopped when it occurred to her that the man standing next to me was not Jasper. She turned back to her father with a pleading look. "I need you to let them in." Ruby spun back to me. "I'm sorry, I didn't get the message."

  "No, I received it," Mr. Dawson barked. "What is all this about, Ruby? I insist on knowing the truth this time. Not some patched up excuse about an allergy to ostrich plumes."

  Kellan stood silently by, taking it all in and most likely growing more confused by the minute.

  Ruby sighed with surrender. "All right, Father, I'll tell you, but you mustn't get angry. And you must hear me out. Miss Starfire is a private investigator. I hired her to find out who framed Paul for murder."

  George was about to open his mouth to protest, but she held up a hand. "Please, Father, hear me out. I know in my heart that Paul did not commit this crime. I think you know it too."

  His cheeks bloated and his mouth bubbled as if he had plenty to say about the matter but he kept silent.

  "I'm using my own money, the money I earn here at the farm, so it will cost you nothing. The police saw one glove and they hauled my beloved Paul off to jail." A sob escaped her lips. She stopped to compose herself. The tears seemed to be softening George up. His stony expression had melted.

  "Ruby," he said quietly, and put his hand on her arm.

  She shook her head. "No, this isn't the time for me to fall apart," she said, apparently to herself. "Father, I want Miss Starfire to investigate the murder. What if the police are wrong and they've sent the wrong man to prison? You know Paul, and even though you refuse to bless our relationship, you know he is a kind, thoughtful, hardworking man. He's not a murderer. Please, let Miss Starfire finish her work."

  A long, reluctant pause was followed by George clearing his throat. It seemed his daughter's words had choked him up a bit. "I suppose she can enter. But stay out of the animal pens. There are lots of places you can get hurt on this farm, and I won't be responsible for it." He saved a scrutinizing glare for Kellan. "Who is this young man?"

  Before I could utter a word, Kellan pulled off his hat and stuck out his hand. "Kellan Holden, at your service. I'm here to assist Miss Starfire and see that she stays out of danger. Friends call me Ace," he added unnecessarily.

  George seemed impressed by Kellan's grip. "Calloused palms and rough knuckles," George said. "You're a hardworking man, I can see." He looked him up and down. "Did you fight in France, son?" It was a question I heard often. For the older men, it showed a mark of courage, a sign of integrity.

  "Yes, sir, I did," Kellan answered with military precision.

  "Good man," George answered. He turned to Ruby. "This is all on you. They can enter the farm."

  Ruby hugged him. "Thank you, Father."

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Kellan and I walked through to the pastures. I'd promised he could look at the ostriches before we got started on the investigation, which worked well because Ruby had to stay behind for a few minutes. Her father asked for a moment of privacy to talk to his daughter. Having a close relationship with my own father, I deduced that he was telling Ruby not to get her hopes up that Paul's name would be cleared.

  Kellan stuck his hands in his trouser pockets and stared out at the flock of ostriches. Some were standing and even sitting under the shade of the trees, while others milled about the field, dropping their tiny heads down to search for insects, roots and other edibles. A few of the younger ostriches ran around the adults with no particular purpose except for fun. Their comically inadequate wings fluttered up and down to keep them from falling face first or backward onto their feathery soft plumage.

  Kellan rested his arms along the top of the fence. He laughed heartily when one of the young ones, without looking where he was going, ran right into the rear of an adult. The adult ostrich gave him a stern look and then went back to foraging for goodies.

  "I know just how that little guy feels. I was once running through the house, chasing the dog and not looking where I was going, and I ran head first into Uncle Ned's ample behind. I fell right back on my own behind and got a stern lecture about running in the house." Kellan surveyed the entire flock. "It looks as if a cartoonist drew them,” he said. "Nothing about them looks as if it should work. Bodies too big, legs too long, necks too fragile and heads that seem wholly wrong for the rest of them. Yet, here they are, flourishing and happy."

  "I thought the same thing about them. Anatomically or mathematically, or whatever could be applied, gives these creatures zero chance of survival, yet they seem perfectly suited to life here in California and life in general."

  I peeked back over my shoulder to see if Ruby had finished talking to her father. The somewhat forlorn expression she wore as she walked out to greet us assured me my prediction about the topic of their private chat had been a good one.

  "Sorry to keep you waiting," Ruby said when she reached us. "What specifically did you want to see, and what else can I do to help?" It seemed some of her hope had drained away. I was more determined than ever to figure out this mess.

  "Is there any chance I can see Paul's bunk?" I asked.

  I could see that it was a request she wasn't expecting. She nodded. "Yes, of course. I'm sure he wouldn't mind considering we're trying to help him." She pulled keys out of her pocket. "I have the master key for the bunks. Not that I ever use it," she added quickly.

  "No, of course not." The three of us headed in the direction of the large barn and the sleeping bunks.

  "One more thing, if you don't mind, Miss Dawson," I said as we passed the shop building. "Do you have any idea where I might find Eugene Strump? I thought maybe he left behind a forwarding address. Or maybe he had a good friend here at the farm who might know where he went after he was fired."

  "I'm not sure where he went. He left rather abruptly and on unfriendly terms, as I mentioned, but I do know that a few of the other hands liked to occasionally go to ball games and the theate
r with Eugene. I'll ask around."

  "That would be great." We reached the remote section of the farm that was located away from the central activities. A great deal of noise and angry yelling brought our attention to the barn.

  "Sounds like someone isn't happy," Kellan noted after a string of curse words floated out through a window.

  "Yes, if you don't mind, I need to stop inside the barn and make sure everything is all right," Ruby said as she headed that direction.

  The young farmhand, Nate, who Jasper had first spoken to about riding the ostriches was red in the face, shaking his head and mumbling under his breath as he stepped out of what appeared to be a stall of some kind, like one used for horses. He was still deep in his task and hadn't noticed all of us walk into the breezeway in the center of the barn. Nate tossed a leather ostrich lead over his shoulder, slid shut the heavy door and closed the latch.

  "Is everything all right, Nate?" Ruby asked as we neared him.

  His face popped up in surprise. A chuckle followed. "Oh, it's you, Miss Dawson. For a second there I thought the bird was talking to me." He motioned toward the locked stall. "We had to separate Egor from the flock. He was starting all kinds of fights today with the small males. Timmy ended up with a cut right below his eye." He pointed to his own eye, but I could only assume the injured Timmy was, in fact, an ostrich.

  "That Egor," Ruby said. "He sure does like to stir up trouble."

  "Could be his name," Kellan muttered. It was meant only for my ears, but Ruby heard and smiled.

  "I didn't name the birds and I agree."

  The stall door rattled. It sounded as if the bird had kicked it with both feet. "That's right. You'll have to stay on solitary confinement until you calm down, you temperamental bird," Nate yelled at the stall. He turned back and looked at Kellan and me. "Hey, you're that girl who came with the doctor on Saturday—" He rubbed his chin. "And the Englishman. He was sure sore about not being able to ride the ostriches."

  Kellan chuckled under his breath.

  "Miss Starfire is here to investigate the murder," Ruby said without hesitation. It seemed now that her father knew it was no longer necessary to keep secret. It would sure make things easier on me.

  Nate seemed to take the news with profound interest. "Is that right?"

  "Yes, well as long as you have everything in hand, we'll leave you alone," Ruby said. She didn't seem to notice, but I got the distinct impression Nate had something to say about the murder.

  Ruby headed out and Kellan followed behind. I stayed back a few seconds and waited for Ruby to be out of earshot. It seemed that Nate had something he didn't want to mention in front of her. I only hoped it wasn't more evidence linking Paul to the crime.

  As I predicted, Nate scurried right over to talk to me. "I've seen something, Miss. Something that doesn't seem quite right." He looked toward the door. "There are four doors on the outside of the barn, the right side. When you have a second away from Miss Dawson, come to the second door. I'll be in there for the next few hours oiling leather."

  Ruby reached the barn exit and glanced back. Nate hurried away before she noticed.

  I walked quickly to catch up to them. We headed out of the barn and back into the sunlight. Ruby led the way. We walked past the farm supervisor's office, but his door was closed.

  I leaned closer to Ruby and lowered my voice. "Did you ever ask Arthur why he told the police that Paul had lost his temper that day with Eugene Strump?"

  "No, I haven't had a chance yet. It seems Arthur is avoiding me. I'm sure it's because he knows he was totally mischaracterizing Paul's reaction. I still have no idea why he told the police a lie, but I plan to find out.

  We walked along the line of bunks and stopped at Paul's door. Ruby paused to collect herself. "I have to stop this and keep a good thought in my head that he'll be home soon." She turned back to me. "We plan to have a winter wedding."

  "I'm sure it will be beautiful," I said.

  Ruby unlocked the door and let Kellan and me go inside without her. "I'll stay out here, if you don't mind."

  "No problem," I said.

  The room was so small, Kellan filled a good portion of the free space. He stood in one place and looked around. "What are we looking for?" he asked. "Looks like someone has already been through his stuff."

  The bedding had been pulled off the fold-out cot, although that could just have been the way Paul left it. But it was less likely that he'd left his clothes piled in heaps next to the two drawer dresser. There was a picture frame sitting on the top of the dresser but it was empty.

  "I'm sure the police went through his things, but they aren't usually so ham-handed about it." I picked up the empty frame. It was made of dark cherry wood and someone, most likely Paul, had scratched a heart into the surface. "And they certainly wouldn't take a picture out of a frame."

  "Unless they thought it might have something to do with the case," Kellan suggested.

  "Maybe Ruby knows about the missing photo. Although, I already have a good guess about it." I leaned out the door with the frame. "Miss Dawson, do you happen to know what picture was in this frame?"

  Her reaction, one of stunned disappointment, gave me my answer.

  "Yes, it was a picture of me. I was wearing my Easter dress and bonnet and sitting on top of an ostrich. I wonder why Paul removed it."

  "Do you think the police took it?" I asked.

  "Gosh, I don't know why they'd do that. If they had, they never said a word about it. Seems like something they would mention," she added.

  "You're right. I think they would have mentioned it." I put the frame back on the dresser.

  Kellan stood in the center of the room, apparently feeling out of sorts at standing in another man's bunk. "So this is what private investigating is like, eh? Looking at people's underthings and crumpled sheets."

  "Well, if you're going to make it sound glamorous like that, I suppose so. However, there is a little more to it."

  He laughed. "I was just teasing ya, Duchess. I'm very honored to be friends with real life private investigators." The man always knew exactly what to say to earn more bonus points.

  I swept my gaze around the tiny room once more. "Well, today, I'm afraid underthings and crumpled bed sheets aren't providing much information. The empty picture frame is interesting, but I can't figure how it would possibly connect to Mildred's murder."

  "Maybe one of the coppers thought Miss Dawson looked cute in her Easter bonnet and snatched it out of the frame," he suggested.

  I smiled at him. "You might not be cut out for this work. Either that or you don't have a terribly high opinion of the police."

  He scratched his forehead. "Probably a little of both."

  "Just for learning sake," he said, before we stepped out of the bunk. "What were you hoping to find in here?"

  "Not sure. Sometimes a little clue shows up, something that just doesn't fit or something that leads the investigation in a new direction, a phone number or a name or a receipt, but Paul doesn't seem to have anything here except what he needs to work on the farm. So occasionally, like now, I walk out of the place no wiser than when I walked in." I glanced back at the empty picture frame once more before stepping into the sunshine.

  Ruby had moved to the shade of a nearby tree. "Any luck?" she asked when she spotted us. She walked across and locked Paul's door.

  "Not really," I said. "Did Paul usually take aspirin or a tonic when he got a headache? I didn't see any glass or bottle on the dresser."

  She double checked that the door was locked as if there was something precious inside. "No, he never took anything. At least not that I know of."

  I pointed to her ring of keys. "Who else has a key to the bunks, aside from the men who sleep in them?"

  "Well, Father, of course, and Arthur has the master key to all the buildings out here. Why do you ask?"

  "No reason in particular, but do you think I could speak to Arthur?"

  Ruby looked hesitant. "Yes, of cour
se. Only I must warn you, Arthur is not the most congenial, friendly person on the farm. He can be rather gruff."

  "That's all right. I can handle gruff just fine," I said.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Ruby asked around and soon discovered that we had just missed Arthur. He had taken the farm truck on an errand, but he was expected back soon. I had rather hoped that Ruby would head back to the offices and leave us on our own. I needed to break free of her to find out what Nate had to tell me, but my undeniably handsome and charming partner seemed to keep her around. She took Kellan on a short tour of the farm. Then we stopped to watch them roll out a wheelbarrow filled with roots and oranges for the ostriches.

  Kellan was glued to the pasture fence watching the entertaining lunch spectacle. It gave me a few minutes to ask Ruby some questions.

  She was smiling as she turned away from Kellan. "This is what I love most about the farm. Most people have never been this close to an exotic animal unless they were at a zoo. But the farm allows people to see the animals in a much more natural environment. Kellan is quite interested in ostriches."

  "It would seem so. I know he was excited to see them. I'm glad he gets to watch their lunch. They are such an unusual creature." I turned back to her. "Ruby, I have to ask this, and it's rather sensitive, so please, remember, it's just so I can flush out any possible leads."

  Her previous smile faded. "Sure. Anything to help your case."

  "Is there someone here on the farm, someone close to you who might want to hurt you, or, at the very least, cause you distress? A disgruntled employee or spurned friend or possibly a—" I paused, but she filled in the blank.

  "A father who wants to break up an engagement? Surely, since my father readily allowed you to continue with the investigation, you can't possibly suspect him. Not to mention how this whole terrible thing has cost us hundreds of dollars. It's a stain on our reputation, as well." I knew it would be a touchy subject. I would have reacted the same if someone even whispered such an accusation about my own father.