Confound It

by Maggie Toussaint

  “You can touch Petunia and Patches and see who did it, right?” she managed, dashing the moisture from her cheeks, a flash of fire in her emerald- green eyes. “Then the sheriff can arrest them.”

  “I’ll see what the pigs tell me, but even if I learn who did this, my touch reading won’t be evidence for an arrest warrant.”

  “It should be. The person who did this should get punished. Someone should shoot them with a bow and arrow and let them see how it feels.”

  “Sweetheart, it doesn’t work that way. But we’ll figure it out. I have every confidence of that.”

  “If they wanted the pig harnesses, why didn’t they just take them?”

  Good question. I remembered how edgy the pigs were around Mayes. “Maybe they tried, but the pigs wouldn’t let them get close.”

  “That’s mean. I hate them.”

  “We can talk about it later.” I glanced at the crowd of people around us. “Maybe you’d like to have a cup of tea in Mama Lacey’s kitchen?”

  Her chin jutted defiantly. “I want to go with you. I want to dreamwalk with you.”

  Whoa! Where’d that come from? “Not today. We’ve talked about this before.”

  “The pigs were my friends.” Her voice broke, and she looked down to blink away fresh tears. “I’m not a kid, Mom. I can handle it.”

  Pretty strong words for a ten-year-old. I stroked her head and ponytail. “I know you have special talents, Larissa. Here’s the thing. I don’t want you dealing with death and spirits at your age. I want you to grow up and enjoy hanging out with the living. There’ll be plenty of time for dreamwalks later on. I’ve got this.”

  Larissa wailed a little more, then pulled it together. “What about the dogs? Can they track down the killer?”

  “Good idea, but we can’t use them until the police examine the scene. That’s why Pap put them up for now.”

  “In that case, you need Oliver, Mom. Get him to track the bad person. He won’t leave any prints.”

  Oliver, my Great Dane ghost dog, had helped me in other cases. “Good idea. I’ll see what the pigs tell me first, okay? Please stay with Mama Lacey for a bit longer, Mayes and I will go with Pap to examine the pigs.”

  Larissa touched my arm. “We can bury them, right? They deserve a proper funeral.”

  “We’ll check with Doodle. Technically, they are his property.”

  “But he gave them to us. He didn’t want them anymore. They’re ours.”

  “He didn’t have a place to keep them, which is different.”

  I gave my mom a look of “What now?” and she stepped forward to herd Larissa toward the kitchen. Larissa gave me a last look that spoke volumes. If I didn’t get justice for the pigs, she would.

  My father gestured toward the garden as we walked there. “I can’t believe this happened,” Dad said. “Like Larissa, I want justice for these animals. This place has always been a sanctuary. I feel … violated.” He halted and fixed me with a stare. “I’m counting on you to make this right.”

  “I’ll do my best, Dad. Did you hear anything? How did you realize something happened?”

  “That’s just it. I didn’t, and your mother didn’t either. I headed out to work in the garden a little while ago and found them. Larissa was right behind me. We saw them at the same time. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have taken her with me if I’d known something had happened out there.”

  “Not your fault,” I said. “This case is circling around on itself. That means we’re getting close.”

  “Someone’s nervous about our investigation,” Mayes added, unlatching the gate and striding into the fenced garden area. He stepped aside, waited for us to pass, and latched the gate behind us. “I wish we had a better handle on the suspect.”

  “Or suspects,” I said. We walked beside lush rows of potatoes, greens, and late-blooming tomatoes. My father had fenced the garden years ago after he got tired of sharing with the deer. That was why the pigs couldn’t get into trouble out here. They couldn’t get to the veggies. The latch was too high for Petunia to reach. For them to be in the garden, someone had to open the gate and give them entry.

  “You think we have another killing team on our hands?” Dad asked.

  “We’re not sure of anything,” Mayes said, with a quelling look at me. “Each case is different, and it limits us to jump to conclusions without evidence to support that leap.”

  I didn’t agree with him over whether it was one person or two who did this, but it was pointless to argue theories when we had no proof. Time would tell how many suspects were involved.

  As we walked, I noted the tidy rows of the dark-green kale and the bushy plants laden with green peppers. My father had one heck of a green thumb, but then, so did I. The plants in my landscaping business flourished, unless my clients neglected to care for them.

  Directing my gaze over the tops of the plants, I could see where the pigs lay. Each had an arrow to the heart. My breath hitched in my throat. Not what most mothers wanted their elementary-school kids to see. But if Larissa had nightmares, I could help her deal with them. Years of suppressing my talent had yielded many strategies for making dreams go away.

  Waves of anger radiated from my father. I touched his arm. “Dad, it’s okay. Mayes and I have this. You don’t need to be out here with us.”

  “I took responsibility for those animals. They should’ve been safe here.” He wrung his hands. “I feel so helpless, so upset. The energy here is wrong now. The plants. Every living thing in the garden will suffer because of the violence wrought here.”

  “You and Running Bear can cleanse it.” I gentled my voice. “Truly, Dad, it would be best if you went back to your place and helped Mom with Larissa. A cup of Mom’s herbal tea would do you a world of good.”

  “You sure? Because I can help. I can dreamwalk with you, share energy, or whatever you need.”

  His negative energy made me anxious. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but what I need is for you to give us room to do our jobs. Allow us to take the first step toward cleansing your sanctuary by listening to the spirits of the dead.”

  He didn’t look convinced. He stood his ground. “Just because I retired from being the Dreamwalker doesn’t mean I’m useless.”

  “You’re absolutely right.” I led him back toward the gate. “I’ll have plenty for you to do later. Help me now by talking with Running Bear and planning a cleansing ceremony for your property.”

  He nodded, but his agreement was slow in coming. “How’d I get so lucky to have a beautiful daughter like you?”

  Despite the tragedy nearby, a smile wiggled its way out. “Same way I got lucky with the best parents in the world. Now scoot.”

  Minutes later, Mayes and I stood alone over the pigs. Flies buzzed aimlessly, landing and then taking off. They seemed as confused as we were.

  So senseless. These animals were pets. For tame animals to be hunted was so wrong. I dreaded breaking the news to Doodle. These pigs were all he had left of his mom.

  The areas where the harnesses had rested on their torsos were lighter, a grim outline of what was missing. Were the harnesses trophies? I’d seen them, and I didn’t recall anything other than faded leather.

  With my eye on a protruding arrow, I dropped to my knees. “Guess I should get started.”

  Mayes squared his stance and scanned the area. “Go right ahead. I’ll keep watch.”

  Steeling my jumpy nerves, I touched Petunia and Patches. Nothing. Not even a glimmer of something. I tried the arrows. Same negative result. Drat . I wanted to have an answer for Larissa.

  “Nothing here,” I said, standing. “But you knew that already.”

  “I’ve hunted plenty of pigs over the years. I’ve field-dressed the animals. Not once have I gotten anything from an arrow or a dead hog.”

  “You could’ve said something.”

  “You would’ve checked anyway.”

  He had a point. Not wanting to look like a total dweeb, I studied the
ground near the dead pigs. “This is the tidiest crime scene I’ve ever seen. Everything is where it should be except for the pigs.”

  “Good observation. These pigs would’ve bolted after being shot,” Mayes said. “No way would they have died side by side in a locked garden. None of the bushes are trampled, none of the produce seems ruined or missing. Their location is significant.”

  “They were placed here? How? And why?” I searched the adjacent tree line for danger. I’d assumed the killer was long gone with the harnesses. Was he or she watching us right now? “Wasn’t killing them enough of a statement?”

  “Placing these carcasses here, inside your dad’s garden, is a warning.” A cold chill flashed down my spine. “They’re coming after my family?”

  Mayes studied the area, leaning over some bent grass. “Not necessarily. That’s a big leap from hunting game animals to hunting humans.”

  The pigs were several hundred pounds each. “No woman could move this much dead weight, and I don’t know how a guy carried them either, not for any distance. So we’re dealing with a guy who knows how to hunt. The obvious answer is Todd Derenne. He’s a bow hunter.”

  “I’d like to question him again, that’s for sure, but right now, we need Oliver’s services.”

  “You’ve got a lead?”

  He pointed to the grassy tracks leading away from the pigs. “I do.”

  Chapter Forty

  He did it again. Said “I do.” Was Mayes taunting me with matrimonial words on purpose? Was he encouraging me to be his girlfriend or his wife? Was he even aware he was doing it? I stole a glance at him, but he wasn’t looking at me to gauge my reaction. From outward appearances, he was focused on the case of the murdered pigs.

  That’s what I should focus on as well. The pigs. I summoned my ghost dog, Oliver. The large Great Dane licked me all over. After I explained what I wanted from him, Oliver went right to work tracking the pig killer. We followed Oliver and the drag marks out the back gate and down the swale for nearly half a mile, then Oliver veered off into the woods. He settled on a spot not too far from a drainage swale.

  I pointed out the dark patch of sand to Mayes. “Oliver says right here.”

  Mayes examined the setting from every angle before nodding his approval. “This is where they came to rest. They would’ve been shot nearby, run off together, and bled out here. Tire tracks come back this way. Given all the underbrush along the narrow trail, we’re most likely looking at a small utility truck with four-wheel-drive capability.”

  I noted the narrow wheel base impressions in the sand. “Or one of those truck-shaped golf carts. I’ve seen several of those around the county.”

  “Yeah, one of those haulers would have four-wheel drive and enough horsepower to drag this much weight.” He glanced around. “How far are we from the highway?”

  “A couple of miles still.”

  “The main track we were following connects to the highway?”

  “It does. Some people still come to my parents’ house the back way. They’ve had all kinds of folks over the years visit them in secret. You wouldn’t believe the domestic situations some of our community leaders have been in. When they reach their wit’s end, they come out and stay with my mom and dad. By the time they leave, their heads are on straight.”

  “Is the back access marked at the county road?”

  “No. It looks like every other logging trail—merely a grassy bump-out on the highway’s shoulder.”

  “Unless the killer has local ties, the odds are in favor of a local person who ambushed the pigs.”

  A protest boiled out of my mouth. “No way was this a random event. My parents have loads of ‘No Hunting’ signs up along the lane.”

  “Never said it was random. Let me check a few things. If you want to read the blood spots, I’ll narrow down the kill zone and search for the hunter’s blind.”

  “Copy that.” While Mayes followed pig tracks through the underbrush, I knelt again by the largest blood stain. Opening my senses, I expected a vision to flood my thoughts, but I got nothing. Nada. Zip. I removed my hand and tried again. Same result. I scooted over to the other dried blood pool. Nothing.

  Oliver returned from romping with Mayes. I gave him my thanks and a hug and sent him on his way into the between-worlds fog. While it was nice to have access to Oliver, there were times I wished for his sake that he’d glom onto someone in the spirit world so that he could have company all the time. He’d had plenty of offers, but he’d elected to stay with me.

  Mayes helped me up and gave my hand a squeeze. “Find anything?”

  His cocksure tone ruffled my feathers. “Nothing, but I’m sure you knew that already.”

  His smile was slow and sure. “Yes, ma’am, I did.”

  “Sneaky way to keep me occupied.” I set aside my pride to do my job. “You find anything?”

  “I didn’t, which is puzzling. There should’ve been an area nearby where the grass was trampled or broken small branches at eye level for increased visibility. I didn’t see any signs indicating someone had lain in wait.”

  “Weird. I wish the arrows had told us something.”

  “As I understand it, your psychometry gift works when the person is in the grip of a strong emotion. You can detect an energy signature when it’s been laced with fear, anger, rage, and the like.”

  “True, but psychometry isn’t helping with this crime scene. Someone killed those pigs in a premeditated manner. What kind of person kills without emotion?”

  “Psychopaths are wired differently,” Mayes said.

  Despite the afternoon heat, I shivered. “That’s what we’re dealing with?”

  “Too soon to make a call, but yeah, someone in this case is a major liar. They’ve fooled us because they are very good at concealing their true nature. They are living a lie.”

  Psychopaths and liars. People who naturally lived by a different set of rules, people who were on a killing spree in Sinclair County. They’d murdered Mandy in her home. They’d killed her pigs on my dad’s property. We had to stop them. We had to figure this out fast before someone else got hurt.

  “Anyone could’ve killed Mandy,” I began slowly. “That fiery explosion didn’t take brute strength, merely an ignition source in her lab. For instance, a decent bow hunter could’ve shot a flaming arrow through the window, and we’d never know. That points to Todd Derenne.”

  Mayes nodded. “A Molotov cocktail would’ve had the same effect. I saw bottles, rags, and gas on Dixon’s back porch. He had all the makings of a Molotov cocktail at his disposal.”

  “Yeah, but June had better motives for killing her sister. Greed and romantic love. June inherited her sister’s kid, her boyfriend, and possibly her meth business. I’m sure June has the makings for those incendiary devices around her place, but is she an archer?”

  “That is a very good question,” Mayes said. “We could search online for her name in archery-contest results for the last twenty or so years.”

  I didn’t want to mention the last name on the list. But there was no getting around his having the opportunity to enact this. “Then there’s Doodle.”

  “You buying into my mindset with the kid?”

  “I don’t know what to think.” Pines sighed overhead, mirroring my mixed feelings. “The kid’s got street smarts and book smarts. I’ve always thought he knew more than he was telling. I agree he could’ve snuck over to the neighbors’ porch and helped himself to the Molotov cocktail ingredients. A kid like Doodle would’ve had lots of unsupervised time.”

  I chewed on those thoughts for a minute. We didn’t know who’d killed the pigs. Chances were good this investigation was a dead end. All our suspects had the means and motive to kill Mandy. At least one of them, possibly more, was a skilled archer.

  “Someone could’ve used the arrows to throw suspicion on the boyfriend,” I said.

  “If the arrows are a red herring, then our most likely suspect for the pigs’ murder is the person
who could get closest to them.”

  The pigs followed Doodle around like dogs. If he was the baddie, he could have walked them into the garden—they’d have trotted after him—and killed them there. But that wasn’t what happened, according to the evidence. “Doodle cared for those pigs. It has to be someone else. Someone might have drugged the pigs to get close. I wouldn’t put that past June, Dixon, or the trucker boyfriend.”

  “We need answers.”

  “Not getting much in the way of those from this scene.”

  “I wonder ….”

  I tugged on his arm, sure of two things. He had an idea, and I was fresh out. “What?”

  “Animals have spirits. We know that, or you wouldn’t have Oliver trailing after you. And you have an affinity for animals, so if there’s information to be gained from this site, you are the most likely person to detect it. What if the signal strength is too low for you to detect? If that’s the case, we may still have a chance to read this scene.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “We boost the detector.”

  He seemed happy about his conclusion, but I remained confused. How could I do any more than I already had? My dreamwalking battery was fully charged, but I’d gotten zilch on two attempts here.

  Guess my blank expression tipped him off to my cluelessness. “We dreamwalk together,” Mayes said.

  The smug arrogance on his face irritated me. Even when I’d dreamwalked on another case with my medium friend Stinger, I hadn’t felt like I had amped powers. The difference with Stinger had come after the dreamwalk, with recovery time almost nil. Stinger had recharged my energy loss quicker than crystals, restorative broth, and bed rest did.

  “I’m willing to try it,” I said, “though I’ve dreamwalked previously with my dad, his friend Bubba Paxton, and once accidentally with the sheriff, but the end result was not a surge of energy, more like two toddlers engaging in parallel play.”

  “The difference will be me,” Mayes said.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Thin clouds sailed overhead in a blue sky. Wind whispered through the pines, while crickets and frogs warmed up for the nightly sundown concert. Normal, everyday things, but normal wasn’t on my dreamwalking agenda this afternoon, it seemed.