by Ellen Riggs
Chapter Nineteen
I was walking up the front stairs after my morning chores when two police SUVs pulled into the parking area. Jilly stepped out the front door in her flannel pajamas and a thick wool sweater, carrying two cups of coffee. She knew I had a story to tell but we hadn’t yet had a private moment. Probably wouldn’t now, judging by Keats’ posture. His tail gave a hopeful wag and then drifted down ever so slowly.
“Bad news?” Jilly asked, handing me a mug of coffee. “The tail says so.”
“It does.” I tipped hot coffee into my mouth. “But the sirens aren’t on.”
“There’s that,” she agreed.
Early on in our tenure, we both got terribly anxious when the police arrived. Now my heart still accelerated, but there was as much excitement over seeing my boyfriend as dread over seeing Chief Harper. Regardless, there was no reason not to enjoy a good cup of coffee. No matter which of the two Kellans arrived, caffeine couldn’t hurt.
Asher jumped out of his car first. He gave us a wave, flashed white teeth, and jogged to the camelid pasture. Normally Alvina would be at the fence before he got there, but today she was in a corner alone. Drama and the others were pacing along the fence like a gang of thugs, which they pretty much were. My sweet girl didn’t belong with them anymore but I didn’t know what else to do with her. She needed company but hadn’t shown much interest in any of the other animals. I’d given her a separate pen the day before and rotated sheep, goats, Archie the calf, and even Florence the blind mare in and out of there. The alpaca continued to huddle on her own and eventually I put her back with the thugs. Senna, the vet, assured me my girl would snap out of this funk eventually, but I wasn’t convinced.
My brother wasn’t, either. He raced up and down flapping his arms and then upped his game with a handstand and cartwheels. All to no avail. Finally he climbed the fence, waving his baton warningly at the thugs, and went over to pat the alpaca. She leaned her head into his chest and stood there, motionless.
“I’m worried about Asher’s other girlfriend,” Jilly said. “What else can we do to cheer her up?”
“Asher,” I called. “Try singing. Remember what Cori said.”
“Do I have to?”
“Just try it. She’s depressed.”
Asher stepped away from Alvina and sang, “When the Saints Come Marching In.”
She lifted her head slightly and seemed to focus on him for the first time.
“Keep going,” Jilly called. “It’s working.”
With Jilly’s encouragement, his voice got stronger and he began marching up and down inside the enclosure, brandishing his club at the thugs to keep them from blindsiding him.
Slowly but surely, Alvina started marching along with him. It was far from a dance but her head was up and she was moving.
Setting my coffee on the railing, I applauded. “Go, Asher. Go, Asher.”
Mom came out on the porch, too. She was already dressed in a fitted red suit that had been altered to show off her trim figure and great legs. Her faux alligator pumps matched perfectly and I looked at them differently today. Admiringly. The woman was stealth in stilettos and I wouldn’t underestimate her again.
“Why isn’t Kellan coming up to the house?” she asked. The way she kept smoothing her suit told me she was nervous.
“Good question. Maybe he’s on the phone,” I said, chugging the rest of my coffee before it could cool completely. “I’ll go down and see.”
“Shall I come along?” Mom asked. “Just in case?”
Jilly stared at her curiously. “What’s going on? Which one of you got on Chief Hottie’s bad side?”
Mom and I pointed at each other and then laughed.
“We don’t know that he knows,” Mom said, unbuttoning and rebuttoning her jacket. “Perhaps nothing. Remember what I told you, Ivy. Say nothing unless it’s a direct question. I’ve been watching police procedurals lately.”
“Yeah, but Chief Hottie is also Chief Boyfriend,” Jilly reminded her. “Ivy needs to walk a fine line, Dahlia.”
Mom looked down and smirked. “She’d do better in a nice pair of heels.”
“A barnyard hazard,” I said. “Stay there, Mom. Keats and I are going in.”
Kellan got out of the car before we reached it and crossed his arms over the open door. “Morning, Ms. Galloway.”
Ah. Chief Harper it was.
“Good morning, Chief. Could I get you a cup of coffee?”
“No, thanks. I’ll take your full report right here.”
“Which report is that?” I asked, watching Percy creep into the SUV. Keats stayed by my side, tail swishing ingratiatingly. It was rare that he showed Kellan such respect. Chief Boyfriend must be pretty mad.
“I believe you broke into the dance studio last night before we’d completed our investigation.”
“It’s not breaking in when you’ve got a key.” The line hadn’t worked before but it was worth another try.
“We’ve covered this ground.” He scuffed his black boot on the nearly frozen earth. “It’s trespassing. And more important, I’ve asked you time and again not to sully my crime scenes.”
“How do you know it was even me?” I asked. “Was there a security feed?”
I hoped there was, because then we might find out who came in after us.
Kellan held out his phone to show me a set of footprints on the dirty hardwood floors of the studio. “I’d know those footprints anywhere. Because I see them everywhere they shouldn’t be.”
I examined the photo. “You don’t know they’re mine. Every homesteader in town wears these boots.”
He glanced down at my boots. “Possibly, but they’re larger than average.”
“Big feet are a big help in manure management. Keep me steady.”
For a second I thought he was going to smile but instead, he flicked his finger and then showed me another photo.
Paw prints. One larger set, one tiny set.
“I believe these belong to detectives Keats and Percy?”
Suddenly he lurched forward and his chin hit the car door as Percy leapt off the driver’s seat and onto Kellan’s head. Before he could react, the cat stepped down onto his shoulder and assumed the parrot pose.
“Oh Percy, that’s so disrespectful,” I said.
“Evading the chief of police’s questions is also disrespectful,” Kellan said. “We’re supposed to be more open about things, Ivy. That’s what we discussed on your porch swing a few weeks ago.”
He was right, but I was finding it harder than I expected when the farm was threatened. I trusted Kellan and knew he was stellar at his job, but I also trusted my own instincts, and more importantly, my brilliant sheepdog’s. It would take time to break down those barriers. Where my farm’s welfare was concerned, Mom was right: I was emotionally unavailable.
I continued to squirm away from his questions. “You can compare the prints on your coat to the ones in your photo, I suppose. Unless Detective Percy cares to confess.”
Percy kneaded Kellan’s shoulder, purring loudly.
“I’ll take that noise as confirmation,” Kellan said. “And Keats’ posture screams guilty, I’m afraid. I’m glad you at least took Jilly along. You’re quite blasé about risking her welfare, but two is definitely safer than one.”
I pressed my lips together, remembering Mom’s words. No direct question, no direct answer.
“The paw prints were all over the front desk and the drawer was off the tracks,” he said. “Care to explain?”
“I gave Detective Percy a hand with that. He thought there was buried treasure inside but got himself twisted up. I was trying to set him free when we heard someone coming in the back way and left through the front.”
“Ivy!” The ironic humor in his voice vanished. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“Because I didn’t want to get in trouble. Like I am right now. We got out okay, locked the door and ran back to the car.” I gestured to the porch where Mom and Jil
ly stood watching. “We’re good.”
He closed his eyes for a second. “You’re good. Well, that’s nice to hear because the person who came in behind you left the back door wide open. Who knows what could have happened next? A neighbor called to let me know.”
“Did you find their prints?” I asked, eagerly. Too eagerly, because he pulled the phone away. “I wondered if someone followed me from Hazel’s.”
“Nothing clear. Whoever it was used a broom to cover their tracks.”
“Huh. I’ll have to remember that tip.”
“Ivy,” Kellan said, “what aren’t you telling me?”
“Well, the culture revival project launch was a great success,” I said. “When I was out back getting some air, I overheard Ryan Snopes and Tish Ramsey arguing again.” I gave him the details and he took notes on his phone, managing not to dislodge Percy. “Detective Keats once again offered his view that those two are bad news. His hackles were, like… poof.” I made a big circle around my head with my hands. “An eruption of fur. Pompeii all over again.”
Now Kellan’s lip twitched and he leaned very carefully over the door to eye Keats, whose tail rose and swished harder. The toxic black cloud was passing to expose Chief Hottie, which warmed my world on this cold day.
There was a crunch of gravel behind us and Mom called out, “Good morning, Chief Harper. I just wanted to apologize. It was my idea and I take full responsibility.”
“Apologize?” Kellan asked. “For what?”
Mom stopped dead and then put her heels into reverse. “For not offering you coffee, of course. Let me go right back in and get you a cup.”
“Stop right there, Ms. Galloway,” he said, checking his phone. “Are you telling me these prints are yours?”
Mom came back for a closer look at the photo. Confronted with a direct question, she had to follow her own rules. More or less. “They very well could be, Chief Harper. My feet are quite tiny and it’s a terrible challenge to find nice shoes. You can’t imagine.”
“I can’t. Nor can I imagine why Ivy would take you to a crime scene when you’re under orders to stay here at the inn. I granted you leave to go to the Bingham Manor, not trespass on your old stomping grounds.”
“I had an open invitation, Chief. José told me to come and go as I liked. I never did, of course. Men are so quick to take you for granted when you do things like that.” She blinked a few times. “Men like Joe Barker, anyway.”
“I’ll ask you to surrender your key to the studio, Ms. Galloway.”
“Of course. I’ll go up and get it now.”
“Take your time. Ivy and I have more to discuss.”
“Can we walk, at least?” I asked. “It’s so chilly this morning.”
He gave a barely perceptible nod and moved gently away from the car before shutting the door. For some reason, he allowed Percy to stay where he was, and the cat continued to knead as we moved slowly to the camelid pasture. Finally Kellan turned to me again and two sets of eyes stared at me, angry blue and eerie green.
“Look, I know you want some freedom to take action when the farm is threatened,” he said. “I try to allow for that, although it grates on me no end. It’s bad enough when you and Jilly go off half-cocked, and worse still when Edna Evans is involved. But Dahlia? Seriously, Ivy, that is going to get you both killed, and perhaps others, too.”
“You’d be surprised,” I said. “She was actually very good. She listened and she outran me. It was a bit embarrassing.”
“What if you were seen?”
“But we weren’t seen.”
“Dahlia is hard to miss. She’s always in flaming red and heels.”
I nodded. “Dressing up is her armor and right now she feels so ashamed about being conned. It brought back the trauma of my deadbeat father, who apparently cheated repeatedly before leaving us penniless and pitied by all.”
Kellan and Percy blinked in unison. “I didn’t know,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t really know either, till last night. That’s why I fell for her ploy. She wanted to see for herself if Joe had stashed the cash there.” I watched Keats sidle up behind Kellan and shook my head at him. With claws so close to Kellan’s handsome face, the fun might come at a price. “Actually, she wanted to see if Keats could find it.”
“And did he?”
I shook my head. “The cash wasn’t there. I suppose he’d already moved it along to the next town he was planning to bilk.”
“If he had, we haven’t been able to trace it. It may well still be around here, since many women paid in cash. But I’d thank you to let me conduct my own search. And for heaven’s sake, leave Dahlia out of it. If she’s that rattled she could be even more irrational than usual.”
“I’ll do my best, Chief. But she’s at loose ends and the women inside are picking on her. She really needs to be distracted at the salon.”
“Maybe,” he said. “But only if you tell me—”
He didn’t get a chance to finish the question before Percy turned green eyes toward the lane. Keats’ tail beat steadily as a lime green van pulled in.
“Here comes my latest rescue,” I said.
“Another one? You’re going to need a bigger boat, Ivy,” he said. “What is it this time?”
“Not sure. I had to say yes, no questions asked, in exchange for the intel we got about that politician in Dorset Hills. You remember. That great lead I shared with you right away.”
“The dead end, you mean,” Kellan said. “You’re paying a high price for a bum lead.”
“It’s temporary. Cori told me to stop getting so attached to rescues.”
“Well, for once Cori and I agree on something.”
“I heard that,” Cori said, hopping out of the van. “I cannot wait to hear which one of my brilliant ideas the Clover Grove constabulary endorses.”
“If you told Ivy to ease up on the rescues, I heartily endorse that. She has a heavy load here.”
Cori shook her index finger at him, managing to flash a little orange in the bargain. “You misunderstand. I said Ivy needs to stop getting so attached to rescues. They need to come and then go sometimes to make room for new ones. The farm is a clearing house.”
“Like laundering rescues,” Kellan said.
“Exactly.” She tipped her head, and her sharp brown eyes appraised him. “We understand each other. Because of that I can compliment your new look. If anyone can pull off the pirate-parrot thing, it’s you.”
Bridget came around the van. “Cori, there’s a reason we don’t come here often. And you’re taunting him now.”
“And there’s the other reason, taunting the llamas,” Cori said, orange middle now in full flash. “Hey, get out of there, Officer Smiley. Someone could get hurt.”
Asher ignored her and continued strutting with Alvina. She’d picked up the pace considerably as he sang, “Walk Like a Man,” complete with falsetto.
Even Cori grinned when she heard it. Then she walked around the van, warning us with an upraised palm to stay where we were. She slid behind the wheel and reversed quickly to the empty pasture Charlie had modified the day before. The fence was now eight feet high with screening at eye level.
Hopping out again, she opened the gate and then the rear door of the van. Bridget jogged over and they both went inside. I heard an unearthly squawk that sounded very much like the dragon I’d predicted. Or at least the dragon of movies.
“What was that?” Asher said, climbing the fence and running toward them.
“Stay back, Ash,” I called. “It’s a new rescue.”
He started to back away and tripped over a stone, arms flailing just as Cori emerged with her arms full of the biggest bird I’d ever seen. It was taller than she was.
“Oh no, it’s an ostrich,” Kellan said. “Those things can kill.”
The bird saw Asher flailing and started to struggle. Cori lost her grip and suddenly the new arrival was loose and on the move.
“Keats,�
�� Cori called. “Bring it in.”
Keats tried. He darted and dodged, but the big bird’s movements were erratic and completely foreign.
Cori beckoned all of us. “Fan out slowly, folks. No sudden moves. This bird can go thirty miles per hour, so we’ve got to surround her and press forward gently to the gate. Got it?”
We did exactly as we were told. With our arms all outstretched there wasn’t much of a gap the bird could squeeze through and Keats patrolled the outside. I could feel all of us collectively holding our breath as we closed in.
The bird was practically in the doorway when the wild card played itself. Percy jumped down from Kellan’s shoulder and charged. The bird dashed away, then turned and charged toward Kellan. He stepped aside lightly and called, “Ash!”
Just as the bird passed, Kellan tackled it. Well, tackled was too strong a word. He ducked his head and grabbed the bird around the middle and Asher joined him. I expected the terrified creature to peck and claw them but it went limp as they carried it into the pen. They set it down and moved like lightning to get out of there.
Kellan latched the gate and when he turned, something foul was running down his coat and uniformed pant legs. It was the largest splotch of bird poop I’d ever seen.
“Oh my,” Cori said. “That’s gonna stain. It’s one reason I’m not a fan of the big birds.”
“Cori, you can’t leave me with an ostrich,” I said. “I haven’t a clue how to handle one and Keats doesn’t either. It’ll freeze out here.”
She waved the glove. “First, it’s not an ostrich and I hope I never have to rescue one because they’re bigger, meaner and virtually untameable. This is an adolescent emu and quite a sweetheart once you get to know her. She was raised in an overcrowded pen so she’ll need company.” She snapped her gloves at Keats. “Bring the alpaca.”
“Alvina? No, she’s depressed,” I said.
“She didn’t look depressed prancing with your brother, but a new friend will cheer her up. I have the feeling they’ll be perfect together.”
“That thing will not be perfect. Not ever,” Kellan muttered.
“Trust me,” Cori said.