by S F Bose
“Then I’ll wait here.”
“No, you won’t. We have to be careful, Finn. We don’t know who might be coming after us. Come on,” I said firmly. It worked. Finn got out of the car, grumbling. I locked the car and joined him.
As soon as we started to walk toward the Emporium, my spidey sense kicked in. Someone was watching us. My right hand curled around the grip of the Kahr CM9 pistol in my coat pocket. Stopping, I looked back across Pond Road toward the Village Green. Miller Brothers’ Burgers was closest to us, then the Field House, and beyond that the broad expanse of the Village Green. I didn’t see anyone watching us.
Looking south, across Bridge Road, I scanned the small, Village parking lot west of the Bowman Building. Cars filled the lot but I didn’t see any people inside the cars. Aside from the Bowman building, I could see the Apple Barrel, Willow Gallery, Enzo’s Italian Restaurant, and the Mystic Grove Candy Shoppe. Tourists and townspeople were out shopping. Nobody looked suspicious.
“Come on,” I said to Finn, who had stopped when I did. Frowning, he followed me as we walked around the side of the Emporium and up the porch steps to the front door. I stopped to let Finn go in before me. As he entered the building, I looked around at some of the tourists and shoppers walking toward me across Bridge Road. The back of my neck still tingled, but no obvious threat leaped out at me.
Inside, Peter and Martha were alone in the store, standing behind the main counter. Martha hugged something in her arms. When I walked over to her, Martha held out a small, brown shopping bag with twine handles to me. I took it and searched her face.
“The Bible is inside,” she said in a quiet voice. “I put the letter back in its original hiding place.”
I smiled. She had returned the letter to the slot in the back cover. “Martha, you’re going to get both the Bible and letter back. I promise.”
She smiled weakly and Peter patted her hand.
“So the same man called back today?” I asked.
“Yes, Mr. Smith. He called about an hour ago. I answered the phone. He was very insistent. He said he knew we had Bibles and would let us name our price. When he started getting louder, I gave the phone to Peter.”
“He was almost ranting,” said Peter. “He said he’d by any Bible we had. When I told him we didn’t have any, he said he knew I was lying. Can you imagine saying that to anyone? I hung up on him.”
“And you didn’t recognize the voice?” I asked. They both shook their heads.
“How about on caller ID?”
“Unknown caller,” Martha replied, her mouth tightening in disgust.
“I think you should let Chief Durand know about this,” I suggested.
“I’m calling him this afternoon,” Peter agreed.
“I’m glad. You can never tell.”
“I agree,” said Peter.
I noticed Martha and Peter glancing at Finn, who stood quietly behind me.
“Oh sorry. This is my friend, Finn. Finn, this is Martha and Peter Church.”
They all said “Hello” and Finn smiled pleasantly.
“Well, we have to hit the road. Hey, can we go out the back way?” I asked. Peter and Martha both looked surprised.
“Oh course, dear. I’ll walk you out,” Martha said.
Then the front door suddenly opened behind us. I spun around, my right hand finding the gun in my pocket. Three older women laughed and chatted loudly as they entered the Emporium.
“You really need to drink less coffee,” Finn muttered and followed Martha. With a final glance at the older women, I trailed after Finn.
Outside again, the air still felt charged and my senses were on high alert. I rushed Finn along to the car. When we got there, I unlocked the doors and grabbed my messenger bag from the back seat. Finn and I jumped in the car and slammed the doors.
“Open it up,” I said, handing him the messenger bag. He flipped the top flap back and unzipped the inside compartment. I folded the paper bag tightly around the Bible and handed it to him. He slid the Bible into the bag, closed it, and put it on the floor by his feet.
I started the car and scanned the area. Someone is out there. I pulled the car onto Pond Road and drove northeast for twenty miles.
“Where do you live, exactly?” Finn asked after we had driven for a while.
“I’m driving away from home to make sure we’re not being followed.”
Finn’s ginger eyebrows leaped up. He turned to look out the back window. Then he scrunched down and looked out the side mirror.
“I don’t see anyone.”
“Me either,” I admitted. ”But we’re going to play it safe.”
After ten more miles, I turned left on Willow road and headed west. There were no other cars on the road, but I didn’t relax. Miles later, I turned left onto Mystic Road and drove south until I reached the B&B driveway.
“You live here?” Finn asked, sitting up and looking out at the trees.
“Born and raised. I live back in the coach house now with my two cousins and sister. My family runs a Bed and Breakfast in the main house.”
I stopped on the drive so he could take in the B&B, the big, red barn, and the outbuildings.
“It’s big. Do you have animals?” asked Finn.
“Chickens. We also have a small stable behind the barn with horses,” I replied.
“You have horses?”
“My dad and cousin Ryan breed and train Connemara ponies.”
“Really? That’s deadly!” he replied with enthusiasm. The Connemara breed originated in Ireland.
“Deadly?”
“Cool. Brilliant,” Finn said and I smiled. It was one of the few times I’d seen Finn smile. “Can we go see them? The ponies?” he asked. He sounded like an excited kid.
“Sure. After the whole murder thing is wrapped up,” I agreed, putting the car in gear.
“Grand. How do you use the ponies?”
“We keep some here for trail rides. Then there are riders who buy our ponies for show jumping or dressage. Other people buy them as trail horses.”
Finn smiled. “Connemara ponies are beautiful horses. They’re both hardy and intelligent. I never thought you’d do something I liked.” I laughed so hard, the car swerved.
I was still chuckling as I continued up the drive to the coach house. Instead of parking in the garage, I pulled to a stop on the small, gravel area south of the garage. Reaching into the secret compartment, I pulled out the Glock 42, which I pocketed. Finn handed me my messenger bag and we unloaded our bags from the car. Then Finn wandered to the edge of the driveway and looked northwest to the fencing and the meadow.
“Does your family farm all this land, then?”
I pulled my knit hat down more against the cold and zipped my parka all the way up. Then I walked over next to him. “They used to. Beans have been farming this land since the 1800s. My grandfather was the last Bean to actively farm, though.”
Finn turned to stare at me. “What happened?”
I sighed. “It all happened before I was born. My grandfather died unexpectedly in a car crash. My dad, Uncle Rob, and Aunt Grace didn’t want to farm, so Grandma Addie expanded the lease agreements she had with other farmers in the area. They work portions of our land and we share the expenses and the profits. Then two years after Grandpa died, Dad and Mom moved back to live with Grandma Addie. They just had my older brother and sister at that point.”
Finn nodded and looked back at the meadow. “And your aunt and uncle?”
“Aunt Grace lived in South Carolina after college. She and her husband ran a B&B for another family. After her divorce, she moved back here with her kids. She runs our B&B now. Uncle Rob died the year after I was born.”
“You didn’t know your grandfather or uncle then?”
“No. But I feel like I do. Listening to all the family stories and growing up here where they lived makes me feel like I knew them. I feel that way about all my ancestors,” I said, scanning the fence line. “They’re all very real to me.”
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br /> “That’s because their spirits are still here,” Finn replied. “They came back to your farm because this is where they were happy, raised their families, and belonged. They’re all connected to the land.”
The idea cheered me. “When this is over, I’m going to introduce you to my Grandma Addie and Great-aunt Anna. You’ll all get along.”
“I’d like that,” Finn said and smiled.
The wind picked up. “Come on, let’s go.” I realized Finn and I were both very exposed out in the open.
Chapter 54
I walked Finn up the path past the coach house, garden plots, orchard, and into the woods. The snow on the ground was powdery and easy to hike through. We followed the marked path northeast.
The cabin stood in the middle of a clearing surrounded by white spruce, cottonwood trees, and aspens. Snow dusted blackberry, raspberry, and thimbleberry bushes. The edge of the forest was fifteen to twenty yards away from the cabin on the front and sides. Hikers loved to rent this cabin in warmer weather because there were scenic trails that cut deeper into the nearby woods.
The one-story cabin was built with notched, red oak beams. A slate roof peaked over the main cabin and flattened out over the front porch. The wooden railing ran the length of the porch. There were windows in the front of the cabin but the sides were solid wood. From where we were standing, we couldn’t see the sunroom that I knew was on the north side of the cabin.
Finn looked at the cabin with worry written all over his face. “I think this was a big mistake. We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
I laughed. “Relax. The B&B is a stone’s throw away and we have a cop coming.”
“Will our cellphones and laptops even work out here?” Finn looked at me with mild panic on his face.
“Sure they will. We use signal boosters in all the cabins.”
I unlocked the front door and led the way inside. As I entered the cabin, I immediately felt the warmth. Grace had turned up the heat for us! The cabin had an open layout. The living room featured a foldout couch facing north toward the sunroom at the back of the cabin. Two, side-by-side easy chairs sat across from the couch. Between the couch and chairs, a wooden coffee table squatted on a colorful rag rug. To the right on the east wall was a fireplace and bookshelves with books, games, and a TV.
A long island to the left separated the living room from the small but functional kitchen. At the south end of the kitchen, there was a small, round table with four chairs.
I showed Finn to the bedroom to the left of the front door. It had a big window, country curtains, a queen size bed with quilt, large dresser, and another colorful rag rug. “You can sleep here,” I said. Finn grunted and tossed his bag on the bed. “The bathroom is out this door and to the left,” I added. He nodded.
Then I went to the bedroom to the right of the front door and put my duffel and messenger bag on the floor. The room was comfortable and furnished like Finn’s. I tossed my parka, knit hat, and shooting gloves on the bed. Then I unzipped the messenger bag and retrieved the brown bag with the Bible and letter. After glancing inside, I carried it into the living room. Finn walked out of his bedroom.
“There’s a full kitchen. Grace was going to stock it with food for us,” I said. He went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.
“She did. It’s jammed with food.” He walked around the living room, examined the fireplace, and then went through the doorway to the enclosed sunroom on the north side of the cabin.
“Hot tub!” he shouted.
“Is the cover on?”
“Yes. It’s strapped down.”
It was probably a blessing. We’d be safer inside the house than in the sunroom.
A little later, I heard him swear. “Back door won’t open.”
“Some of the wooden doors stick in the winter. Just pull it hard,” I called back.
I heard Finn grunt and then heard the door open. “There we are,” he said.
I looked around for a hiding place for the Bible. A large, iron bucket filled with firewood and kindling sat next to the fireplace. It was three feet wide and three feet deep. Perfect! I emptied the bucket, put the bag with the Bible and letter in the bottom of the bucket, and replaced the wood and kindling.
Then I went into the heated sunroom. Grandma Addie had hired a builder to add on this room years ago to modernize the cabin. It was a large and airy room. Floor to ceiling glass windows on three sides provided both natural light and a spectacular view of the clearing and the forest in the distance. Pleated blinds were installed for each window and had been pulled to the top of each window frame. There was a covered, hot tub on the left side of the sunroom.
On the right side of the sunroom, there was a seating area with seagrass rattan furniture. A couch and two chairs had cushions with a light blue, orange, and yellow floral print. A large rattan coffee table and two side tables completed the area. I wasn’t a fan of rattan, but I liked the colors in the cushions. Recessed lighting in the ceiling and two table lamps on the side tables lit the room at night.
I unlocked the back door and tugged it open. Pushing through the outer screen door, I reached back and pulled the inner door shut.
Finn stood a few feet away looking at the forest. I joined him and scanned the area. The clearing in the back of the cabin was large. It ran forty yards north to the forest with its old growth trees. I saw more blackberry, raspberry, and thimbleberry bushes at the edge of the clearing. The wind had blown a lot of the powdery snow the woods, revealing patches of brown grass and dirt.
To our left, a wooden picnic table with attached wooden seats sat a few feet away. It was perpendicular to the north side of the cabin. Wind had swept the table clean of snow. A large Weber grill stood closer to the cabin.
To our right, four Adirondack chairs surrounded the raised fire pit. Three crabapple trees stood five yards beyond the chairs. Some red fruit still hung from the branches. There was a small bench by the trees and two bird feeders hung from a nine-foot tall pole with dual shepherd’s hooks. Grace must have filled the feeder when she left the food.
“Everything okay?” I glanced at Finn.
“Just peachy.” He sighed. “I’ve never seen so many freaking trees in one place in my life.”
I laughed. “It’s called a forest.”
“How many of these cabins do you have?”
“Three.”
“And people rent them?” he asked, doubt in his voice.
“In warmer weather they do. The cabins appeal to couples or families who want more privacy. They can bring their own food and relax. Hikers like them too. We also have a writer who rents a cabin every summer and just writes.”
Finn scanned the surrounding forest and shook his head. “It takes all kinds.”
I laughed. “Come inside. I want to show you something.”
We walked back to the cabin. I pulled the screen door open and Finn held it. Then I turned the knob on the interior door. After giving the door a little pop with my shoulder, it opened. Smiling, I walked inside. Once Finn passed me, I shut the inner door and locked it.
I went to the bedroom and got my messenger bag. Back in the living room, I pulled the Kahr CM9 and the Glock 42 from my coat pockets and put them on the coffee table. I slid the Kahr out of its pocket holster. Finn stood watching me. Then I sat on the couch and patted the cushion next to me. Looking doubtful, he sat next to me.
“Finn, you said you don’t own a gun. But have you ever shot a pistol?”
“Yes, many times.” He stared at the guns.
“Can I ask under what circumstances?”
He looked at me. “It’s better you don’t know.”
I took a slow, deep breath and exhaled. “Okay, so you’re experienced with handguns.”
“Yes. You want me to carry one of those?”
“I do. I’d feel better if we were both armed, as long as you know how to shoot.”
“Okay. Do I get to pick?”
“Sure. Whichever one you’d
like. They’re both loaded. The Kahr is a 9mm with one bullet in the chamber and six in the magazine. The Glock is a .380 and is also six + one.”
Finn picked up the Glock and hefted it. Then he did the same with the Kahr. “I like this one.” He pointed the Kahr toward the sunroom.
“Good choice.” I gave him a quick overview of the Kahr. I also reviewed gun safety, which irked him. He snagged the pocket holster from the table. Then, I dug through the messenger bag for an extra magazine, which I gave him.
Finn looked at the Glock. “You’re using that one?”
“Yes,” I said, searching through my bag again. “I normally carry a Glock 19 on my hip. This one I’m going to carry on my ankle.” I found the ankle holster I’d packed and strapped on my right leg. After checking the pistol, I slid it into the holster.
“Okay, we’re good.”
There was a pounding at the front door and we both jumped up. I pulled the Glock 19 and held it to my side. Then I moved to the front of the cabin, staying to the left of the door. I glanced over at Finn. He held the Kahr at his side and stood near the kitchen table across from me.
I shouted, “Who is it?” in my deepest, badass voice.
A voice hollered back, “Officer Jeff Haas, Mystic Grove PD. Chief Durand sent me.” The name was familiar but I couldn’t picture Officer Haas.
“Could you go back down the stairs so I can see you?” I hollered.
“Sure thing.”
I went into my bedroom and pushed the curtains aside. As soon as I saw the tall police officer in his uniform, I recognized him. I holstered my gun and returned to the entrance. Opening the front door, I waved him in. Haas was in his 20's and ramrod straight like former military. He wore an olive green knit cap, earmuffs, and a short winter jacket over his uniform.
“Sorry,” I said as he clomped in.
“No problem. Better to be cautious,” Haas replied, eying Finn, who still had his gun drawn.
“Finn, holster your gun please.” Finn startled as if he’d been thinking about something else. He returned his gun to its holster and smiled sheepishly.
“I just wanted you to know I was here before I scout the perimeter,” Haas said.