Murder Among Crows

by B. T. Lord

  It was Emmy.

  Terrified that something horrible had happened to her, he withdrew his weapon and hurried down the hallway. He burst into Cammie’s office and quickly looked around.

  “What happened? Why did you scream?”

  It was then that he noticed her standing behind Cammie’s desk, her hands to her mouth. Her face was white as she looked back at him. He holstered his weapon and approached her.

  “What is it, Em? What’s wrong?”

  She didn’t answer. Instead, she pointed to the center of Cammie’s desk. Perplexed, Rick looked down to where she was pointing.

  “God no!” he exclaimed in disbelief.

  Sitting in the center of the desk was a letter of resignation addressed to Mayor Barnes. On top of the letter lay Cammie’s badge.

  T H E E N D

  AUTHORS NOTE

  Once again, a heartfelt thank you for taking this latest journey to Twin Ponds. I believe every writer weaves in bits and pieces of their own lives in the stories they write and this one is no different. It was a very emotional story for me on several levels as I grappled to convey the subjects of forgiveness and redemption and loneliness. Although social media strives to point out how different we are, I think what makes us the same are the emotions we all share. No matter where on this earth we’re born and raised, what language we speak, what we look like or what we believe in, we all know what it is to love, to grieve, to be hurt, to feel betrayed, to be filled with joy and happiness. It’s confusing at times, but it’s what makes us human. And what links us together. As Emmy so poignantly states, it would be nice to be given an owner’s manual to this thing we call life. Yet, if that were to happen, we’d lose the gift of choice, of discovering who and what we truly are. As heartbreaking and painful as that journey sometimes is, it’s also filled with wonder and awe. An adventure waiting to be lived.

  A huge thank you to Dave B. who helped me with the finer points of tracking. Another huge thank you to my beta readers Maureen Wood and Allison Cady who make these books stronger and save me from misspellings and timeline issues. My new cover artist Grace Currier is a dream to work with and Alison Ouellette is a champ to pull all the artwork together while trying to raise three rambunctious girls.

  My biggest thank you is to all of you for picking up these books in the first place. I enjoy hearing from you and read all your emails and messages. You can drop me a line at btlordwriter@gmail.com or on my Facebook page

  https://www.facebook.com/BTLordWriter/

  If you haven’t already, stop by my website at www.btlordwriter.com and download a free copy of my novella Murder to Die For. The perplexing murder of five teenagers in 1954 that served as a backdrop in the novella will be explored more fully in the next Twin Ponds installment, An Equal Measure of Murder.

  If you enjoy the Twin Ponds Mystery Series, please leave a review on Amazon. It helps others find their way to the unique little town situated in the middle of nowhere.

  In the meantime, speaking of An Equal Measure of Murder, here is a preview. Enjoy!

  An Equal Measure of

  Murder

  ***

  Book 5 in the Twin Ponds

  Murder Mystery Series

  PROLOGUE

  Eagla Island

  The Coffin Islands off the Coast of Maine

  The rain fell in icy needles against her numb skin, causing her to tighten the hood around her soaking face.

  The ocean roared beneath, its spray shooting up into the sky as the incoming storm pummeled the waves against the rocks below.

  Cammie Farnsworth stood on the cliff, watching the black clouds roll towards her. She’d lost track of time. Was it dusk? Was it night? She couldn’t tell anymore. Everything was dark, bleeding into itself.

  She looked down at the roiling waters. Watched the angry foam leap up towards her. For a moment she wondered what it would feel like to take one step forward. Then another. Until there was no ground beneath her anymore. To feel herself falling through the air. To experience the black, frigid ocean plunge itself forcefully into her lungs.

  The idea danced before her, just out of reach, beckoning to her. Part of her mind screamed against such a hideous idea. Yet, hiding within the indignation and disgust, there was a glimmer of a knowing – a sense that this might be the only way to stop the ravages of guilt and pain.

  She leaned forward ever so slightly and stared down at the ferocious ocean. Somewhere in the waves, she saw a face. She watched as the face smiled sadly at her before turning away and plunging down the side of a mountain, leaving a shattered body alongside her own shattered life.

  “Oh God,” she mumbled under her breath as she pulled her mind away from the memory. But it was too late. Once again, she heard those last words that haunted her. That wouldn’t let go. That made it hard to breathe whenever she remembered them.

  Don’t forget me

  The wind howled, barreling into her, almost knocking her down. Her hood ripped away from her head and billowed noisily behind her.

  The rain storm had arrived.

  The drops now turned to hammers as they beat against her face, lashing her cheeks with tendrils of soaking hair. Above her, the sky suddenly ripped open with a bolt of lightning, closely followed by a roar of thunder.

  She instinctively ducked as the skies lit up around her. From somewhere behind where she stood, she could just make out her name called out. Then it was gone. Whipped away by the violent winds.

  She sighed.

  She was not meant to die this day.

  Cammie forced the hood forward and pulled it down over her rain drenched head. She tied it under her chin with a double knot and turned to go. Then hesitated. Everything seemed to be in slow motion these days. She didn’t know if she was up or down. All she knew was that the depression she’d been suffering from for the last few weeks had taken such a hold on her, she was beginning to lose touch of who she was.

  Not that it mattered.

  Don’t forget me

  “Cammie!”

  The voice was closer now. She welcomed it while fighting against it at the same time. She wanted to be left alone. To work through her grief and anguish in her own way.

  How’s that working for you? You’re only sinking deeper into such a dark place, you may never find your way out.

  Cammie knew that was her fate if the owner of the voice wasn’t there. Holding her, tying her to reality. Insisting the recent death was not her fault. As much as she rebelled against the incessant logic, it was her salvation.

  It was time to leave. The storm was intensifying. She looked out once more over the ocean. As she did, something caught the corner of her eye. Jerking her head around, she gasped aloud, the sound snatched from her lips and flung out into the escalating winds.

  She fought to keep her balance as she peered into the gathering gloom. Could she have imagined it?

  No! She may be depressed, but she was not delusional. She knew what she’d seen.

  The voice yelling her name drew closer. But her mind was elsewhere.

  A familiar feeling arose – a feeling that felt good yet frightening at the same time. It reminded her of what she’d lost. Of who she’d once been. And who she could become again.

  Rather than turn towards the voice, she instead took a step off the edge of the cliff.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Twin Ponds, Maine

  Deputy Rick Belleveau awoke with a start. He instantly knew he wasn’t home, but for the life of him, he had no idea where he was. He started to climb out of bed, only to fall back when his head threatened to explode.

  He brushed his long black hair out of his face and stared up at the ceiling, uncomfortably swimming before his blurred vision. His mouth was bone dry, his head pounded with an ungodly pain, and his stomach made ominously loud gurgling noises. Ever so slowly, as his vision cleared, bits and pieces of the night before made themselves known.

  What the hell were you thinking?

  Mumbling a curse
under his acrid breath, he willed himself to get up, throw on his clothes and get out of there as quickly as possible. The last thing he wanted was to see Evie. Or was it Leila? Crap, this was not good.

  Smelling the aroma of sizzling bacon, which only increased his nausea, Rick was forced to move slowly and deliberately as he dressed as quickly as he could. Any sudden moves and he’d lose the battle to keep the contents of his stomach where they belonged. Slipping on his boots, he started for the bedroom door, only to pause when he realized he’d have to pass by whoever was making breakfast. He looked around the room and his heart sank when he saw the only exit available to him was through the window. Thank God, the house was a one-story ranch, or he’d have to learn to fly in record time. He slid open the window and dropped down, just barely avoiding crashing into a row of rosebushes. The thorns, however, caught on his clothing. He cursed again at the sounds of tearing as he fought to disentangle himself from their sharp points.

  With one last hard jerk, which left a long, ragged rip in his favorite jacket, Rick managed to finally get to his car. Driving away, he felt terrible for being such a louse, but the alternative was worse. Whoever he’d spent the night with was going to see the guilt and remorse in his eyes. They’d be hurt, which would lead to angry words, which would then lead to him saying something he’d regret.

  As if he didn’t have enough regrets at the moment.

  A few miles down the road, he pulled over. Leaning his forehead against the steering wheel, he took long deep breaths to push away the nausea that was threatening to overtake him.

  What was wrong with him? He’d never been much of a drinker. But last night, he’d started drinking with Evie, or Leila or whoever he’d been with and lost control. That frightened him. He was not a man who easily lost control.

  It’s not my fault my life is a mess. It’s Emmy’s fault. And Cammie’s.

  When he felt his stomach finally settle down, he pulled back onto the road. Driving along with the forest trees zipping by on either side, his mind turned to the past week. And how it had wrecked him.

  He’d almost had a heart attack when he found Cammie’s badge and resignation letter on her desk. His first thought was that he was screwed. There was no way he could fill her shoes as county sheriff. Nor did he want to. He was very happy being the department’s number two guy.

  Once the initial shock wore off, he had to admit he completely understood Cammie’s reason for resigning. The day she quit was a day no one would ever forget. It was a day all who were there wished they could take back. But even as he understood her reasoning, the fact that he was now acting sheriff of Clarke County did not ease his concerns.

  Thankfully, her resignation only lasted twenty-four hours. She was too conscientious about her job to walk away. However, Jace and Doc, the two people who knew her the best, watched with mounting concern, as she struggled to carry on day after day. They tried to speak to her, but she ignored their advice, insisting she was fine. Yet, the signs were there – the inability to eat or sleep, the sudden irritability, restlessness followed by long bouts of staring into space. Finally, the two had no choice but to carry out an intervention at her cabin. After an argument that turned heated over her ability to do her job, it was Doc who finally forced her to admit that she hadn’t given herself enough time to process the trauma she’d just been through.

  “You need to get out of Twin Ponds for a little while. A change of scenery, where you don’t need to be Sheriff Cammie Farnsworth, will go a long way to helping you regain your emotional balance.”

  “I have just the place,” Jace added. “I know how much you love the ocean. My aunt and uncle own a small hotel on one of the Coffin Islands. It’s the off season so we’ll have the place pretty much to ourselves. We’ll walk the beach every day and when we work up an appetite, we can enjoy Aunt Maud’s fantastic cooking. The rooms are comfortable, and they overlook the sea. Imagine lying in bed every night listening to the sounds of the waves. It’s the perfect place for R&R.”

  “I can’t just traipse off,” Cammie responded. “What about my responsibilities here?” She looked at Jace. “What about your responsibilities at the garage? Or with the Night Hawks? The season is about to start. You can’t just leave the guys in the lurch.”

  The Night Hawks was the county’s hockey team. Jace was its captain and highest scorer.

  “I haven’t taken a vacation in years,” he answered. “Nathaniel can handle oil changes and simple maintenance at the garage. As for the Night Hawks, the guys have been leaning on me too much over the last few years. Without me there, it’ll give them a chance to see what they can really do.” He fixed her with a steady gaze. “Besides, do you honestly think I’d pick hockey and auto repairs over you?”

  “The same applies to the Sheriff’s Department,” Doc spoke up. “Emmy pretty much runs the place anyway. And Rick is a fine officer.” He lifted an exaggerated eyebrow. “Maybe you’re afraid to leave because you don’t want to find out just how well Emmy and Rick can get along without you.” She didn’t laugh. Or crack a smile. He leaned forward and took her hands. “All joking aside, I know how much Twin Ponds and your job means to you. Which is why neither Jace or I are making these recommendations lightly. A few weeks out in the middle of the Atlantic, breathing in all that sea air and not worrying about this town will go a long way in helping you recover. You went through a traumatic loss. Allow your spirit the time it needs to heal.”

  Cammie’s eyes watered, and she ducked her head. She didn’t have the stamina to fight them. Especially when they were right. Her emotions were all over the place. And she was so exhausted from lack of sleep, she was slowly falling apart. She did need time to heal. “Alright,” she whispered. “I’ll go.”

  When she told Rick of her plans, he was all for the trip. He’d seen the toll the events of that day took on her. He agreed a few weeks away was the best thing. He continued to believe this until he watched them drive away. Suddenly the weight of trying to fill her shoes fell on his shoulders. He felt vulnerable. And terrified. What if something major came up? What if he had to deal with a situation he’d never faced before? Even if she was only a phone call away, she was still sitting on a rock in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. The only thing she could do was give advice. Did he even dare call her? She was going away precisely because she needed to disengage from her job in order to get better. It wasn’t fair to expect her to hold his hand or babysit his decisions.

  No matter which way he looked at it, if something came up out of the ordinary, he was screwed. The whole town was screwed.

  Shit.

  Then there was Emmy.

  He squinted against the surge of pain in his head when he thought about the department’s receptionist/dispatcher.

  Damn it, why had he gone on a bender last night? Worse, why had he gone home with whoever he’d gone home with? If Emmy found out, he was doubly screwed.

  You should have thought of that last night, bro.

  For the gazillionth time, he asked himself why he was so hellbent on sabotaging his relationship with the young woman. Emmy loved him. She’d been in love with him since joining the department almost three years before.

  Rick wasn’t a man who indulged in much introspection. He took things as they came without picking them apart or analyzing them to death. That included his emotions.

  Yet there were two events that made him realize he had feelings for Emmy. The first occurred earlier in the year when he’d risked his own life to save hers. The second was when he thought she was dating someone else. He’d been taken aback by the unexpected jealousy and anger that had him planning how he was going to tear her prospective boyfriend apart. The intensity of his feelings spooked him. He’d never felt anything like that for any of the hundreds of women he’d dated over the years.

  That enough was a clue that, as much as he’d tried to convince himself that love was nothing more than cheesy sentiments on greeting cards, he did feel deeply for Emmy.

&nb
sp; He’d actually gotten up the courage to tell her how much he cared, but the discovery of Cammie’s badge and resignation letter pushed all that aside. In the ensuing twenty-four hours, he’d been consumed with the terrifying thought that he was now stuck with a job he didn’t want. Even when Cammie relented and decided to remain as sheriff, he still worried that she’d never completely pull herself out of her depression. He’d seen the changes in her. Declaring his feelings for Emmy was the furthest thing from his mind.

  More excuses. If you think hard enough, you’ll come up with a thousand more. The truth, buddy boy, is that you’re an emotional coward.

  Emmy had once accused him of that. She was right. Last night was yet another attempt to run away from the truth. Well, no more. It was time to grow up. To stop denying what was right in front of his face. He’d go home, clean himself up, arrive at HQ and open up his heart to her. It was the only way to salvage a life that was spiraling out of control. And if there was one thing Rick hated, it was lack of control.

  You better get used to it. You can’t control love. You can only follow where it leads you. It makes you vulnerable and that’s scary. But you can do this. You’ve got to do this. Or you’re going to lose her forever.

  With that sobering thought in mind, Rick arrived at his bungalow and turned off his vehicle. He was climbing out when his cellphone chimed, telling him he had a text message. He took it out of his pocket, saw who it was from and finally realized who he’d gone home with the night before.

  Shit. I’m really screwed now.

  Emmy was usually the first one in the office. She’d switch on the lights, get the coffee brewing, turn on her computer and start checking off the list of things she needed to get done that day. This morning, however, the usually industrious young woman sat quietly at her desk, sipping her coffee. The computer was still off, and her to-do list rested at the bottom of her bag. At least she’d turned on the lights and made the coffee.