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Bought the Farm

Page 9

by Wendy Meadows


  Matt Lawson took a drag off his Lucky Strike and looked at Mary. Matt was a simple man who never had a harsh word to say about anyone. He never wore fancy suits and always settled for a pair of slacks and a simple button-up shirt. But tonight, his face was wearing a very complicated and upset expression that told Mary the man was not prepared to offer any kind words. “Mary, what’s this all about?”

  Mary looked at Matt. The poor man’s graying hair was surely going to grow grayer before the night was over. “Mr. Lawson—”

  Agent Green interrupted Mary. “Mrs. Holland, I want to point out that we are to the point where I am no longer willing to accept your lies. I’m sure the worried faces you see before you tonight would agree with me. We need answers, Mrs. Holland—direct and truthful answers.”

  “Why, you slimy slug,” Mary barked, “I’ve been—”

  Sheriff Mables nudged Mary with his arm and shook his head. “That’s not the way of it tonight, Mary.”

  “Thank you, Sheriff,” Agent Green said. He walked his eyes around the room. “Concerned parents, your sons are upstairs in a secure room. But outside of the safety of this house lurks an immediate danger. Now, I promise that I will do my absolute best to eliminate that danger, but I can’t do so without the cooperation of the citizens of Pineville.” Agent Green pointed a hard finger at Mary. “Mrs. Holland is refusing to cooperate with me.”

  “Why are you giving Agent Green a hard time?” Gary Matlock barked at Mary.

  “Please, Mr. Matlock,” Agent Green told Gary, tossing a fake smile at him, “I understand you’re upset, but we must control our tempers. Isn’t that right, Mrs. Holland?”

  Mary stared at Agent Green. “I have been truthful with you. I don’t know why Farmer Griffith named me on the note he wrote before he died. I drove out to his farm and interviewed him about his barn. That was the last time I ever saw him alive,” Mary explained, feeling her words leaving her mouth like watered down coffee.

  “Perhaps you wouldn’t mind telling these concerned parents how you knew little Mitch Anderson was hiding at Farmer Griffith’s farm, then?” Agent Green asked Mary. “Mrs. Holland, would you also explain why you went back to Farmer Griffith’s farm when I directed you to stand clear and not interfere with my investigation?”

  Dave tapped an unlit Lucky Strike against his knee and studied Mary’s face. Mary had brought his son home safe and sound and now she was being eaten alive by a hungry wolf. He had to help her. “Coffee, anyone?” he asked, deliberately trying to wedge interference into the tense situation.

  “Yes, would anyone like a refill?” Marla rushed in. Like her husband, she too understood that Mary was being fed to the sharks.

  “No thanks,” Gary said and pointed at Mary. “I think Agent Green asked you some questions, lady. Answer him.”

  “Watch your tone,” Sheriff Mables warned Gary. Gary huffed and mumbled a few words under his breath.

  “Mrs. Holland, perhaps I’m getting ahead of myself,” Agent Green said, pretending to be a calm and concerned FBI agent. “Let’s return to my first question, shall we? Why was your name on the note Farmer Griffith wrote?”

  “I don’t know,” Mary told Agent Green, forcing her voice to remain calm.

  “Oh, come now,” Agent Green said in a condemning voice, “a man was murdered in cold blood, Mrs. Holland. The same man wrote your name down on a note that I found on his body.”

  “That same man warned me that the lives of innocent children are in danger, too,” Mary pointed out. “That’s why I called this meeting tonight. If I was guilty of anything do you believe I would be standing in this house tonight?”

  Agent Green lit another Lucky Strike. “Guilty people play many games, Mrs. Holland.” He took a draw off his cigarette and slowly exhaled. “I found you at Farmer Griffith’s farm twice today.”

  Mary saw the faces of each parent staring at her with eyes that told her they were beginning to question her honesty. “I drove out to Farmer Griffith’s farm the first time to meet Sheriff Mables.”

  “And the second time?” Agent Green asked and waited for Mary to dig herself into a hole.

  Mary fiddled with the coffee cup in her hand. Her back was up against a corner. Even worse, she was forcing Mitch Anderson to keep his knowledge about the briefcase a secret. But desperate times called for desperate measures. She needed answers. It wasn’t time to cave under pressure and play nice with old friends.

  “Agent Green, I saw Mitch Anderson when I drove out to the farm the first time. But you were standing out in the front yard with me and Mitch looked awful scared. So I pretended that I needed to use the bathroom, sneaked into the kitchen and out the back door of Farmer Griffith’s farmhouse, and found Mitch waiting for me.” Mary looked around the living room and continued. “I told Mitch to run straight home.”

  “Why didn’t you bring the boy to me?” Agent Green asked in a scolding voice.

  “Because I don’t trust you,” Mary answered honestly. “I still don’t trust you.” Mary took a sip of her coffee to show she wasn’t scared, even though her heart was pounding. “Mitch told me he saw you going through Farmer Griffith’s pockets.”

  “I did,” Agent Green told Mary and lifted his cigarette up to his face. “I—”

  “You hush and listen,” Mary snapped. She handed Sheriff Mables her coffee cup. “Agent Green, how did you end up on Farmer Griffith’s farm this morning? I’m certain you didn’t drive all the way from the black halls of Washington to buy a few fresh tomatoes. No, you were searching for someone.”

  “Say, that’s a good question,” Dave said. He looked at Agent Green. “Why were you on Farmer Griffith’s land?”

  Mary nodded. “It seems awfully convenient that you found poor Farmer Griffith’s body, too…all alone, no witnesses. Who is to say you didn’t murder Farmer Griffith?”

  “Oh, come on!” Gary burst out. “Mrs. Holland, the guy is an FBI agent for crying out loud.” Gary shook his head. “Have you been sniffing too much ink?”

  Agent Green held up his left hand. “Please, Mr. Matlock,” he said and locked eyes with Mary. “Mrs. Holland, we are not here tonight to play games,” he said in an angry voice. “I am a professional who does not tap dance with liars.”

  Mary folded her arms. “Look, bucko, the fact of the matter is that Farmer Griffith was worried for the lives of five innocent boys before he died and warned me that they were in danger and asked me to help them. And that’s exactly what I’m doing. And that’s what you should be doing instead of harassing me.”

  Agent Green took a draw off his cigarette. Mary was playing a splendid and clever game of words. “I can’t help anyone until you confess the truth, Mrs. Holland. Now, I’m going to ask you again: Why did Farmer Griffith name you out in the note he wrote?”

  “I already told you my answer,” Mary replied.

  Agent Green grew impatient. He decided to attack from a different direction. “Mrs. Holland, you visited Mr. and Mrs. Anderson earlier. They told you that their son was missing. Then you drove back to Farmer Griffith’s farm and found the missing boy. I don’t find that to be a coincidence. Would you care to explain how you knew the missing boy was at the farm?”

  “I didn’t,” Mary answered in an honest voice.

  “Then why did you drive back to Farmer Griffith’s farm after I specifically ordered you to stand clear?” Agent Green demanded.

  “I…went searching for answers,” Mary confessed.

  “Answers? What kind of answers?” Matt Lawson asked.

  “Yeah, what kind of answers?” Gary Matlock stressed. He shook his head at Mary. “This woman ignores a direct order from an FBI agent and ends up finding Mitch Anderson…I don’t buy it. She knew Mitch Anderson was hiding out at the farm.” Gary narrowed his eyes. “Start telling the truth, lady. Why don’t you just admit that you went back to the farm to cover your tracks, huh?” Gary pointed at Agent Green. “That guy didn’t kill Farmer Griffith, you did. Mitch saw you kill the man, too
. That’s why you were holding him hostage and let him go only after you threatened him.”

  Agent Green grinned. Gary Matlock might be an idiot, he thought, but the man was coming in handy. “Mrs. Holland, are Mr. Matlock’s accusations true?”

  “Of course not,” Mary snapped. “If I killed Farmer Griffith why would he have written my name down on the note you found on his body?”

  “Maybe you forced the man to write the note before you killed him,” Gary barked. “Yeah, I bet that’s it. You needed a way to keep your face clean of guilt, so you had Farmer Griffith write out a note that—”

  “Mr. Matlock, stop chewing your lip,” Sheriff Mables snapped. “Your accusations are full of holes. If Mary killed Farmer Griffith why didn’t she hide his body? Farmer Griffith’s body was found out near his burned down barn. Why would Mary leave his body out in plain sight? Also, the man was shot at close range.”

  “She could have shot the man at close range,” Gary insisted. “A woman can pull a trigger just as well as a man can.”

  “Maybe, but Mary broke her right finger last winter when she slipped on a patch of ice,” Sheriff Mables pointed out. He had decided to protect Mary instead of questioning her. After all, he had known the woman since she was a small girl. Sure, Farmer Griffith had written her name down on the note found on his body, but Sheriff Mables was certain there was a logical explanation; or so he hoped.

  “Broken fingers heal,” Gary insisted.

  Sheriff Mables shook his head in disgust. “Mr. Matlock, you’re not from Pineville,” he said. “Most folks you see have been in Pineville since the doctor slapped their naked butts. Mary is one of those people. Pineville is her home. She is a valuable member of our community who has never broken a single law in her life. Her husband, John Holland, is away fighting in the war…which makes me wonder why you aren’t fighting in the war?” Gary shifted uneasily in his seat, and Sheriff Mables shifted his attention to the FBI agent. “Agent Green, I’m sure there is a logical explanation to the note you found.”

  Agent Green worked on his cigarette and prepared for war. Mary Holland had to be destroyed.

  “We’re getting nowhere,” Carla Lawson exclaimed. “Mary is suggesting Agent Green might have killed Farmer Griffith…Agent Green is pointing a finger at her.” Carla shook her head. “We have too many questions floating around in the air and none of them are focused on protecting our sons. Now please, can we please focus on the safety of our sons?” she begged.

  “I’m afraid only Mrs. Holland can answer that question,” Agent Green told Carla. “Mrs. Holland, Farmer Griffith asked you to help the five boys who are upstairs. It’s clear, at least to me, that if Farmer Griffith asked you to help the five boys then you were aware of some event that was taking place on his farm.”

  “Hey, that makes sense,” Gary said. He chugged a cup of coffee and glared at Mary.

  Mary walked her eyes around the living room. “I wasn’t aware of anything until Agent Green showed up at my office this morning,” she explained to everyone. “And that’s the truth.”

  “I believe you, Mary,” Marla said.

  Mary felt guilt strike her heart. Marla was defending her, yet she had not revealed to the woman any new information on the missing briefcase. Of course, Dave and Marla Anderson had not asked, either. But Mary felt she owed it to the Andersons to tell them that their son had buried the briefcase on Farmer Griffith’s land and that he had seen with his own little eyes a strange woman. She made up her mind to speak privately to the Andersons as soon as the meeting was over and spill the beans to them.

  “Now I want everyone to listen to me very carefully,” Mary continued. “My name was found on a note written by a very sweet and dear man who was shot to death. I want to know why just as much as anyone else.” Mary folded her arms. “I’m the wife of a man who owns and operates a newspaper. Being married to a newspaperman rubs off on you…and if there’s anything my husband taught me it’s to always seek the truth and nothing but the truth. I want to know why Farmer Griffith wrote down my name on the note he left, too, but in order to do that I have to seek the truth and that’s exactly what I’m doing, regardless of how guilty it makes me appear in your eyes.”

  Mary looked at Carla with caring eyes. “Mrs. Lawson, right now you need to take your son and get him out of town. That goes for everyone. Go see a relative or go on a trip. I believe that’s the safest route to take. Whoever killed Farmer Griffith can’t chase five families at once and I doubt the killer is going to leave Pineville, anyway.”

  Agent Green snarled. Mary was causing him to lose valuable ground. The last thing in the world he needed was to have five families scatter into the wind. He still needed to question each boy…alone…and make them talk. But first, he needed to destroy Mary Holland’s character and force the citizens of Pineville to view her with suspicion instead of trust. “I’m afraid I must insist that the five boys remain in Pineville,” he said.

  “Why?” Carla snapped. “If my son’s life is in danger we have every right to protect him.” Carla looked at Mary. “Mary, I agree with you. We should all take our sons and leave Pineville until the real killer is captured.”

  Matt patted his wife’s hands. “We can go stay with my brother for a couple of weeks. He’s been after me to bring you and Chuck to see Betsy and the girls for a while.”

  Jim Harnnette nodded. “I think Mary is right,” he told his wife. “Melinda, we can drive out to the Grand Canyon like you’ve been wanting.”

  Melinda bit her thumbnail. “Nathan will miss a lot of school…but I don’t see what choice we have.”

  Jack and Marion Weber joined in. “We’ll take our son to see his grandparents down in Florida.”

  Gary Matlock mumbled to himself, “I guess I’ll take my boy back to Memphis to see his cousins.”

  “Oh, Gary, thank you,” Amy nearly cried.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Gary told Amy and then to everyone’s shock gently patted her hand. “Maybe I was jumping off the deep end. My mind is mighty worried over our son…jumping to unreasonable conclusions isn’t helping matters any. It won’t hurt to take Brian to see his cousins. Those boys always have a good time together.”

  “We’ll take Mitch and leave town,” Dave promised. He squeezed Marla’s hand. “Our boy’s safety comes first.”

  “I’m afraid I must insist you remain in town,” Agent Green demanded, turning ugly. “I’m conducting a very serious federal investigation at the moment. I still need to question your sons.”

  “Why?” Gary asked. “Do you think my boy saw who killed Farmer Griffith? If you do, then let me tell you you’re way off. My boy was home all morning, grounded to his room.”

  “The boys are in danger because they saw something they weren’t supposed to,” Agent Green informed Gary, losing his friendly voice. “Why else would Farmer Griffith tell Mrs. Holland they were in danger? I don’t think they witnessed the murder, but I do believe each boy has valuable information that will assist me in my case.”

  “Who cares about your case?” Dave told Agent Green. He looked at Mary and clearly understood why his son was in danger: the briefcase. Of course, he could have told Agent Green the truth, but he decided to hold his tongue. Agent Green was a sour man whom he didn’t trust. “I’m taking my son and leaving town, Agent Green.”

  “Same with us,” Matt declared.

  “We’re leaving town,” Jack informed Agent Green.

  Jim nodded. “Come first thing tomorrow morning my family and I will be leaving.”

  “If you’re going to arrest us, do so right now,” Dave challenged Agent Green.

  Marla studied Agent Green’s cold eyes. “Agent Green, do you have any children?” she asked.

  “What?” Agent Green asked in a cold tone. “No, I don’t have any children, Mrs. Anderson.”

  “Then you can’t understand what every parent standing in this room is feeling right now,” Marla told him. “It’s simple for you to demand our children remain
under the curtain of danger because you have no emotional attachment. We do.” Marla looked at her husband. “We’re leaving town tonight,” she said.

  Dave agreed. “This minute, as a matter of fact,” he said and looked around the living room. “Okay, folks, the meeting is over. Go upstairs and get your sons and leave town. Mary will call us when it’s safe to return.”

  Gary glared at Mary with uncertain eyes. But as much as he wanted to dislike the woman, he saw honesty in her eyes. “I guess that will be okay.”

  “Leave me a phone number where you can be reached,” Mary requested.

  Agent Green balled his hands into two angry fists. “No one is going anywhere!” he yelled. “Now sit down! I’m in charge, not you. You will do as I say when I say, is that clear?”

  “Stuff it in your ear, pal,” Matt told Agent Green and brushed past him.

  Agent Green watched the parents rush upstairs, grab their sons, and race out into the night. He almost went for his gun, but he saw Sheriff Mables watching him like a hawk. So much for destroying Mary Holland’s character and turning the town against her. His stock of heavy weapons had been destroyed by grenades filled with the love worried parents feel toward their children.

  “You can leave my home now, Agent Green,” Dave said, pointing at the front door.

  Agent Green stared into Dave’s eyes with hatred and then walked outside into the night and found Mary standing on the front walk. “You changed the rules of the game, Mrs. Holland. The gloves are off,” he hissed and marched to his car, jumped in, and drove away.

  Sheriff Mables stepped up to Mary. “I’m going to see where he’s going,” he said and hurried away.

  Mary watched Agent Green disappear into the night like a deadly eel trying to find water and then walked back inside and closed the front door.

 

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