The Deadly Fields of Autumn (The Foxglove Corners Series Book 25)

by Dorothy Bodoin

  “Not by us,” I said, prepared to steer around the creature, whatever it was.

  “Jennet, it’s a collie. It looks just like Bronwyn. Could it be…?”

  She broke off, moving her face closer to the glass.

  A sable and white collie padded down the middle of the road toward us. By now I was close enough to see what Charlotte saw.

  But how could this be? Bronwyn was safe in Foxglove Corners with Sue. She couldn’t be in two places at once. The dog in the road had to be another collie who resembled her strongly.

  Charlotte knew better.

  I stopped the Jeep, and she eased herself down to the road, crying out as she wrenched her leg.

  “Bronwyn!”

  The collie ran joyfully to her, and Charlotte threw her arms around her. I’d never seen a happier, more excited dog, never saw a tail wag so fast. I wiped the tears from eyes with my hand.

  “I know my dog,” Charlotte said. “I would know her anywhere.”

  So would I, even though her coat was muddy with burrs and leaves and heaven know what caught in it. Like the time Brent had found her on Wolf Lake Road.

  “This is her collar,” Charlotte said. “My poor baby. She’s so dirty.”

  I smiled. “We’re not exactly clean ourselves. Look at us.”

  “This is what happened,” she said. “Bronwyn couldn’t get one of you to follow her, but she figured she had let our friends know we were still alive. Then she came back for me.”

  “That could have been,” I said. “Who can tell what goes on in a dog’s head?”

  “But how could she come all this way? She made two trips. It’s uncanny.”

  “Remember Lassie Come-Home,” I said.

  I chose to believe Charlotte’s explanation. Bronwyn’s sudden appearance was a bright light in the whole dark affair, and now we were on our way home to Foxglove Corners. All together.

  ~ * ~

  We had to find a restaurant. We needed water for Bronwyn—and a hamburger, Charlotte insisted.

  “And coffee to go for us,” I added. I wasn’t hungry, but my throat was dry; and we still had a distance to drive.

  In the back of the Jeep Charlotte cradled Bronwyn in her lap, and the exhausted collie soon fell asleep. Charlotte leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes. Her hands never left the fur on Bronwyn’s side and neck.

  I drove on, counting the miles and wishing I were home with Crane and our collies. It had been a long night and most of a day since our separation, but it seemed more like a month. We’d been taken further north than I’d thought.

  The day was fading. I hoped we’d be home before dark.

  We made one stop at a roadside diner for water for Bronwyn and coffee for us.

  Back on the road, I kept my mind free so that thoughts of home could claim center stage. Misty growling as I sprayed Joy on my wrists. Julia setting her diamond tiara on her golden hair. Crane’s promising me a private Halloween party, Brent ordering his Halloween log, never doubting that he’d have it. Lucy telling me to beware of It.

  Even then the man in the pirate costume was circulating through the crowd, biding his time.

  The man I’d killed.

  The hours and the miles passed. Bronwyn stirred in Charlotte’s arms and whimpered.

  Charlotte opened her eyes. She hadn’t been asleep. “That’s canine for ‘Are we there yet’?”

  I reached over to pet Bronwyn.

  “Not yet, pretty girl. Soon.”

  “There’s no snow,” Charlotte said.

  “We’re lucky. That Halloween snow was a fluke.”

  “It won’t be long now,” Charlotte said.

  “Sure.”

  “I’ll have to let Sue know you have Bronwyn,” I said. “She must have been frantic when Bronwyn took off.”

  I wouldn’t do it right away, though. First came a stop at the police station; then my reunion with Crane and Julia. That done, I could be with my dogs, have a sandwich with a cup of the hot tea I’d been craving, take a shower, change clothes, call Lucy and Annica and Camille.

  So much to do, but I was blessed with the gift of time. I couldn’t complain.

  Forty-nine

  The daylight was almost gone when I turned off Jonquil Lane into my own driveway. At once the barking began, a full-throated clamor that carried beyond the walls of the house and reached all the way out to the Jeep.

  My precious collies.

  Their faces appeared in the front window, all squished together in a small space. Their bodies were in constant motion as they vied for the best viewing position. One of them broke into a howl.

  The house was somber and dimly lit. Its stained glass window caught the last of the sun’s rays, a sight that never failed to move me.

  My home.

  I parked behind Julia’s new car and my Ford Focus. I didn’t see Crane’s Jeep. He’d be home soon, I hoped. And all the while the collies maintained their frantic welcome. They must sense that the driver of the strange vehicle in the driveway was their missing owner. To hear them carry on, you’d think I’d been gone for days.

  As I walked to the side door, a strange feeling of unreality came over me. I felt as though I were floating up the walkway, seeing my beloved home through the eyes of a spirit returning home after a long time away. Like a lonely soul suspended between one life and the other, wondering what had changed, what had stayed the same.

  But for the grace of God, I would have been a spirit.

  I shook off the feeling. I had to knock on the door. Camille had my spare key, but the yellow Victorian was dark.

  Knock then, I told myself. What are you waiting for?

  The simple act increased the barking tenfold.

  After what seemed like an eternity, Julia opened the door. She cried out, her hand over her heart. Her face was pale, her beautiful golden blonde hair was limp, and her eyes were bloodshot.

  She burst into tears. “Jennet. Oh, Jennet. I was so afraid…”

  The dogs swarmed around me with leaping paws, wagging tails, and wet tongues. Misty and Sky were in the lead; they had most likely been lying under the kitchen table. Halley and Candy pushed their way to my side. Gemmy, Raven, and Star were frantic at finding themselves at the outer rim of the circle with Julia.

  It was pandemonium. I couldn’t move. Neither could Julia.

  “What happened to you?” she demanded. “Where were you?”

  Over the dogs’ incessant yelping, I said, “Kidnapped. It’s a long story. I’ll tell you everything later. Where’s Crane?”

  “He and Mac have been looking all over for you ever since Annica found your purse in the snow.”

  I saw my evening bag lying on the kitchen table. It was closed. My cell phone should be all right.

  “Is it okay with you all if I sit down?” I asked the dogs.

  They moved, reluctantly, but in the end they were still one pack as solid as a mountain.

  I had no choice. I pushed my way through to the table and opened my purse. The cell phone was dry.

  I dialed Crane’s number, and, after all this time, all these hours, I had to leave him a voice message:

  I’m all right, Crane. I’m home. Come home and I’ll tell you what happened. Let Mac know. I have to see him. Love you.

  There was so much more I wanted to say, but it could wait until we were together.

  ~ * ~

  His kiss was everything I’d dreamed of, all I wanted. He seemed older to me, or perhaps worry had etched new lies at the corners of his eyes. In his arms I felt safe and loved. I never wanted the embrace to end, but we weren’t alone.

  We sat around the kitchen table drinking coffee, Crane and I, Julia and Mac Dalby. Misty and Halley lay closest to me. Misty kept nudging me with her nose as if to say, I told you not to go.

  Julia had a box of tissues at her elbow. Periodically she wept new tears.

  Mac was as down-to-earth as always. “How could you get yourself mixed up in a murder again, Jennet? You’re goi
ng to send your husband to an early grave.”

  “I just went to a Halloween party at the library. That’s hardly courting trouble.”

  “They told me they couldn’t find you,” Crane said. “You just disappeared without a trace except for your purse.” He slammed his cup down on the table. “From now on, I want you to stay home all the time. I won’t risk losing you again.”

  I was touched and chagrined at the same time. Had this latest foray into danger turned Crane into his dictatorial former self?

  Julia didn’t care for this sentiment. “Really, Crane. You sound like an old-fashioned tyrannical husband. This is the twenty-first century.”

  “I just went to a Halloween party at the library,” I repeated.

  As Crane reached for my hand, I realized I hadn’t removed the black fingernail polish. “You’re always in danger, honey. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. One of these days your luck will run out.”

  And I would lose everything I loved. Husband, sister, dogs, friends. Home.

  “I plan to live a long life with you,” I said. “I don’t intend to make you a widower any time soon.”

  If that’s what Veronica the Viper is counting on, I added to myself.

  Mac cleared his throat. “Let’s get back to this hit-and-run driver that snatched you out of the library.”

  “The man I killed,” I said.

  “We don’t know that.”

  “The man whose Jeep I stole. We know that. It’s parked outside.”

  “Where did he take you?” Mac demanded.

  “I have no idea. A cabin somewhere up north.”

  I’d told him that Charlotte Gray had been his prisoner for weeks, but she was home now with her collie.

  “Describe the cabin,” Mac said.

  I could still see it in my mind. I thought I always would.

  “It was a small hunter’s cabin built in an immense field. Maybe ten acres. I thought it was only a couple of hours from Foxglove Corners, but it was farther. There was a scarecrow on a pole and a wood pile in the back—and a body inside.”

  “Can you give me the name of a road?”

  I hated to admit that I couldn’t. “I was in such a state I didn’t notice. All I wanted was to get away. It was near a little town called Greenmill Falls.”

  “I’ll find it,” he said, “and when we find him, we’ll have our killer.”

  “I hope he’s still there,” I said.

  Because if he wasn’t, if by chance he wasn’t dead, I’d have my enemy out there again. I’d done him more harm this time than I had with the Halt!

  Mac had finished his second cup of coffee. Time was running out. I had to ask the question that had been tormenting me.

  “Mac… Will I have to go to trial for killing him?”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he said, rising abruptly. “Time to call it a night. Joanna has a special dinner waiting.”

  Crane walked him to the door.

  I looked at Julia. “He didn’t say no.”

  I felt a desperate need to touch a collie. I reached down to stroke the fur around Misty’s neck and tried to feel better. I didn’t.

  “Julia, I’m going to be charged with murder.”

  “No you won’t,” she said. “It was clearly self-defense.”

  ~ * ~

  Julia yawned. “Well, goodnight, you two. I’m off to bed.”

  “It’s eight o’clock,” I pointed out.

  “Well, it’s been a long, tiring day. I’m worn out.”

  She went upstairs, followed by Gemmy and Star, leaving Crane and me alone. We sat on the sofa watching the fire, not speaking. Crane’s arm rested heavily on my shoulder. Sometimes there is no need for words.

  The dogs had chosen their favorite places and lay on their sides, drowsing, or just observing the goings-on. The fire crackled and flames danced, sending out warmth to banish the deadly chill that had settled around my heart.

  Crane said, “It’s going to be all right, honey. Whether the man lives or dies, you didn’t do anything wrong. You saved two lives today. I don’t doubt he’d have killed you and Charlotte eventually.”

  I believed him, and not just because I wanted to.

  Fifty

  Early Sunday morning, Camille and Gilbert crossed the lane to visit me. Their hands were full. Camille brought a baked ham, and Gilbert carried cornbread and a pound cake. All of Crane’s and my favorites.

  I was still in my nightgown, alone with the dogs. Julia was asleep, and Crane was on his shift.

  When I opened the door, I didn’t see the Jeep. Good. Another reminder of that terrible time gone.

  “I don’t want you to worry about cooking,” Camille said. “Just rest and get your strength back.”

  “And as soon as you do, we want to hear everything,” Gilbert added with a smile that reminded me so much of Crane it was painful. Gilbert resembled his nephew, Crane, in his features and in his voice with its light southern accent.

  Camille took another box from Gilbert. “Don’t forget you have school tomorrow, Jennet. I baked you a batch of pineapple-nut cookies.”

  Camille believed that good food, muffins, and cookies were the solution to all of life’s problems. Even the one I currently faced. Their love and care surrounded me. I was going to be all right.

  Camille took charge of the coffeemaker while Gilbert sat in the rocker with half of our pack at his feet while the other half stayed in the kitchen where the food was.

  “Now,” Gilbert said, “how did that kidnapper get you out of the library with no one noticing?”

  “Mac told me his name,” I said. “It’s Ryland Anders. He calls himself Ry.”

  I didn’t have to call him the hit and run killer or the pirate anymore.

  “Miss Eidt told us there were over two hundred people at the party, although not at the same time,” Gilbert said. “I don’t see how he pulled it off.”

  “We were all in costume,” I said. “Well, most of us. If anyone noticed us, they’d think we were acting in a scene: a pirate kidnapping a lady.”

  I imagined I would tell my story over and over again in the coming days. Eventually I hoped I’d be able to talk about it without being overcome by emotion.

  I said, “I was looking out the window at the statue in the fountain. It had a fake bat in its arms. He came up behind me and…”

  Every time I thought of Anders, in his pirate costume, forcing his vile kisses on me, I felt like hitting him again.

  When I finished, Camille was crying. “That blow might only have stunned him for a second. Then what would you have done?”

  “The story would have had a different ending,” Gilbert said.

  Camille pulled a handkerchief out of her sweater sleeve. “God was with you, Jennet. And to think, while all that was going on, Bronwyn was making her way back to Charlotte. It’s incredible.”

  I’d have to call Charlotte as soon as Camille and Gilbert left, and Annica to thank her for finding my evening bag, and Leonora who had decided to skip the party. I had time to do all of this. Thank God for time.

  ~ * ~

  Around noon Brent arrived with Annica, Lucy, and Miss Eidt. Miss Eidt brought food, too, a dozen doughnuts from the Hometown Bakery, and Brent presented me with a bouquet of yellow roses from all of them.

  “Am I still going to get my Halloween log?” he asked.

  “Brent!” Annica said. “Have a little discretion.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “Annica and I will bake them as soon as things settle down.”

  “I wish I’d known what that jerk was up to,” Brent said. “I could have stopped him in his tracks.”

  “None of us could know what Anders intended.”

  “They ought to ban masks at Halloween parties,” Annica said.

  Miss Eidt said, “Bringing so many people together in one place is risky. I should never have had that party.”

  “Don’t think that way,” I said. “There are risks all over.
You can’t just stop living. I’m looking forward to next Halloween. I didn’t get to enjoy myself this year.”

  “When you vanished, it brought the party to a stop,” Annica said. “We looked in every corner for you, even in the secret room. Then we called Crane and the police. I remembered how much you liked the fountain. That’s when I found your purse. Not that it helped.”

  Julia said, “I waited at the buffet and waited. I thought you’d found a friend and were talking to her. I even saw you once.”

  “You saw a woman in a black dress who had dark hair and wore it the same way I do,” I said.

  “So I wasted precious time before it dawned on me that something bad had happened to you.”

  “It wouldn’t have made any difference,” I assured her. “By then I was in a Jeep heading north.”

  I’d never been able to figure out where the cabin was located. It didn’t matter. Mac said he was able to trace Anders’ address through the Jeep’s registration, and Anders’ neighbor told him about the cabin.

  “All’s well that ends well,” I said.

  I liked that line.

  ~ * ~

  Mac came home with Crane.

  “We got Anders,” Mac said.

  The great joy surging through me took me by surprise. “I didn’t kill him?”

  “Let’s just say you didn’t do him any good,” Crane said. “He lost a lot of blood and had no way to get to a hospital.”

  “Because I took his Jeep.”

  “He took you,” Crane pointed out.

  Mac sat at the oak table and glanced at the coffeemaker. “What are the chances of getting a cup of coffee?”

  “I’ll get it,” Julia said and brought one of our tallest mugs down from the cabinet.

  “Is he going to live?” I asked.

  “It’s touch and go. I’m betting on go. But don’t worry. He won’t be around to bother you. We’re not the only ones who want him. Five years ago, he killed his own kid and tried to blame the mother before leaving town. He’s been arrested several times for domestic abuse. He likes to hurt women. Then when he hit that young woman who died, he left the scene. I hope to prove he killed that young medical student who witnessed the crash. I’d say the world is better off without Ryland Anders in it.”

  “Then I won’t go to trial?”