The Darcy & Flora Boxed Set

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The Darcy & Flora Boxed Set Page 49

by Blanche Day Manos


  Ranger had no patience with that. He came to me, growled and struck off again, through the briars and sumac thickets that crowded close to the river. Tree branches snagged my cap and thorns tore my coat as I ran to keep the dog in sight. He had a destination in mind but where we were going, I hadn’t a clue.

  I ran until I gasped for air. Sleet pellets pinged and bounced off trees and rocks.

  Ranger barked in the distance, calling encouragement. Willing my tired legs to move, I pushed myself up. The barking grew louder and finally through the bushes I glimpsed my guide. The river cut in close to the woods here, making a natural cove. There in front of me, pulled up out of the water, sat a rowboat. Ranger had his front feet on the boat’s bow. When he saw me, he put his nose to the ground and began sniffing the damp earth.

  My heart thudded. Cautiously, I stepped nearer and peered into the boat. Empty. Burke may been here, but he was here no longer. Ranger kept nosing the ground. At last, he bayed once, and, his nose close to the earth, began trotting up a hill at right angles to the river.

  Following was easier now because the dog went at a much slower pace. He was simply going where the scent led him and I tagged along behind.

  Sleet came down harder, stinging my face and peppering the rocks and brown leaves with grains of white. I wiped moisture from my eyes. Once again Ranger had disappeared.

  If the killer of Burke’s dog Wolf was within earshot, it would be unwise to call to Ranger so I ran on and at last glimpsed a movement. Hurrying forward, I saw him heading down a steep ravine. At the foot of the rocky gully was a tumbledown structure. At one time it might have been a small barn but now all that remained was a ragged roof covering four walls so ruined they looked as if they could collapse inward at any moment.

  Ranger trotted to my side and whined. Whatever or whoever he had been following must be inside those weathered boards.

  I crept from tree to tree, keeping my eyes on the ramshackle building. Once again Ranger disappeared. It was amazing how his presence gave me courage and how alone I felt when I could no longer see him. My breath sounded loud and rasping in my ears, louder than the sleet rattling around me or the wind that sighed in dead leaves. Within 100 feet of the old building I sank down behind a large cottonwood. From that vantage point, I could see the area surrounding the barn. A short distance away, the skeleton of a house appeared through the trees. It looked oddly familiar. At last I knew where I was. I had passed the remains of the house many times on the way to Pat Harris’ home. Ranger had found the decaying homestead of the legendary Ventris County hoarder, Old String. Because today I had approached the place from the back instead of driving past it on the road, I had not recognized Old String’s abandoned home place.

  A flash of tan through the trees showed Ranger was still nearby. He was sniffing around the perimeter of the shack, moving his head from side to side as if to catch every smell. I wanted to call to him but didn’t dare.

  Crouching behind the tree, dampness seeping through my jeans, I tried to decide what to do next. Somehow, I must have a look inside Old String’s barn. Evidently Ranger thought Burke was within those ramshackle walls for surely the dog had been trailing his owner. But who else was in there? Was Burke’s captor standing guard?

  My cell phone registered the time as 11:00. It seemed like a week since I had eaten the breakfast Pat left for me but in reality, only a few hours had passed. The darkness of the day was due to the lowering clouds. Surely, the heavy clouds carried snow or rain and would add to the misery of anyone who did not have shelter.

  The “no signal” sign was on my phone again but I clicked it off just to make certain it wouldn’t ring. Was Burke inside the barn and if he were, was his captor standing guard? Stealth, I told myself. Stealth and patience are what matter. Although I ached to run down the hill and try to get inside the shed, it would certainly be unwise to make my presence known.

  Should I wait until night and then slip up to the building? I mentally counted my options. There weren’t many. In fact, I thought of only three. I could keep hidden and see if anyone entered or left the barn, I could go for help or at least to a place with cell phone reception, or I could see for myself if anybody was inside. The cold penetrating my clothes decided for me. The longer I sat, the colder I became and by night I would probably be well into hypothermia.

  I faced an unpleasant but inescapable fact: it was up to me to see what Ranger found so interesting and there was no better time than now.

  Bushes and rocks offered scant cover but they were all I had. I crouched as low as I could and scrambled from thicket to tree to boulder on the way down the hollow. Finally the weathered walls were within arm’s length. Cracks between rotting boards were so wide that I could see through them into the shadowy interior. A kerosene lantern cast a small halo of light within.

  “When do you think he’s coming back?”

  I almost stood up and yelled with relief and sheer joy. The voice asking that question on the other side of the wall belonged to my mother.

  “No telling, Flora. He’s been gone a long time.”

  And the second voice was Burke’s. If I could have reached Ranger, I would have hugged him. In guiding me to his master, he had led me to my mother. Had she been here all night? Was she well? Injured? Who had done this and why? Did I dare call to her?

  Evidently she and Burke were alone but for how long? I would have to work quickly to get them out before the crook, the person who had shot Burke’s dog, returned.

  I crept around three sides of the hut and at last, on the fourth side found the door. It was secured with a heavy, shiny metal lock.

  Confident now that Mom and Burke were the only ones inside, I put my nose to a wide crack and hissed, “Mom! I’m here. I’m going to try to get you out,”

  Silence for a few seconds then my mother called, “Darcy! Oh, Darcy, thank the Lord you found us. But don’t stay, Darcy. He’ll be back. Go get Grant. Hurry! Hurry!”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. She sounded weak or tired.

  “Have they hurt you, Mom? And Burke, are you all right?”

  “We’re all right, Darcy. Your mother and I are hungry, we haven’t had anything to eat for a while and that lantern doesn’t give off much heat but we’re alive. Do what Flora said. Get out now. Get help. It won’t do us any good for you to be caught.”

  “Can’t do that. Can’t leave you two. You might not be here when help arrives. Who did this to you?”

  “Oh, Darcy, it’s a long story. A complicated, unbelievable story. Please go. I don’t think he will shoot us. Just go get help.”

  I looked around for something to break the hasp to the lock. Rocks aplenty poked from the ground. I picked up a big, heavy one and prepared to bring it down on the lock. That’s when I felt something hard prod my back and a voice said,

  “I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.”

  Chapter 30

  The rope binding my arms behind my back cut into my wrists. A second rope wound around my ankles. The dirt floor of Old String’s barn was not my preferred seat but all this dimmed in significance because I had found my mother. She was alive! The relief I felt warmed me like a blanket.

  Mom moaned. “Oh, Darcy, why didn’t you run for help?”

  “‘Cause she’s just like you, stubborn and dumb. You could all be out of here, free as the air if you’d just sign on the dotted line, old woman.”

  Jude Melton, Eileen’s bushy-haired friend stood above us, shaking a paper at my mother.

  “I’ll not sign it, ever, you rat,” Mom spat out. “If you kill us, who’ll sign it then? You should have thought of all this before you added kidnapping to your list of crimes.”

  I nudged my mother. “Shhh,” I whispered. Now was not the time to indulge in name calling, not when a man had a gun pointing in our direction.

  I cleared my throat and nodded toward the paper in Jude’s hand. “What is that?”

  “It’s a deed giving me ownership of the forty ac
res you claim as your land. The land that rightfully belonged to poor little Eileen. And you…”

  Jude leaned toward me, giving me an up-close view of stubbly chin and tobacco-stained teeth. His eyes shone with pure hatred. Jude had eyes the color of topaz with whitish flecks in them. “It’s not fair that Eileen is dead and you’re still alive, walking around and causing trouble. Well, there’s more than one way to do things, if one way doesn’t work. You shoulda been scared off after I shot at you,” he said hoarsely.

  Hatred was written all over Jude’s face, such violent, potent hatred that I cringed. “Did you—are you the one who shot at me?”

  “I’m glad to tell you that I was. I didn’t mean to kill you though. If I had meant to do that, I wouldn’t have missed. I wanted to scare you and let your mother know that she needed to cooperate. And that coffee—there in the café. It shouldn’t have had enough poison in it to kill anybody. The poison was supposed to just make you sick. Eileen must have been allergic to it or something.” He shook his head from side to side like an animal in pain.

  Then he rose to his feet and swiped his hand across his face. “Murderer, that’s what you are.”

  For some reason, maybe it was a defense mechanism against hard reality, I found his accusation funny and I laughed.

  “I cannot believe anyone would be so stupid! You are calling me a murderer but she’s the one who tried to poison me.”

  His mouth twisted in a snarl. “Why, you little…”

  “Careful there. Maybe you ought to watch your mouth, friend,” Burke said softly.

  I smiled at him then looked back at Jude.

  “Eileen is gone. You don’t have to carry out this mad scheme. If she cared anything about you, she wouldn’t want to see you in trouble. You are your own worst enemy.”

  “I don’t know what you mean and I don’t want to know. Just shut up so I can think.”

  Jude shoved his pistol into his coat pocket and held his hands out to the kerosene lantern.

  I looked at my mother. “How did this happen, Mom? How did you come to be here?”

  She drew a shaky breath. “I just wasn’t expecting anybody to be at our new house, Darcy. I was sitting on that big rock, looking at the house and trying to think of how it would be to live there after all the years in the farmhouse. Before I knew he was anywhere around, Jude slipped up behind me and clapped his dirty old hand over my mouth and yanked me to the ground.”

  A red haze swam before my eyes and I struggled against the ropes, needing with a physical ache, to punch Jude squarely in the nose. “Did he hurt you, Mom?”

  “Not really. He bent my arm behind my back, kept his hand around my mouth and half carried me toward the river. That’s where he had Burke’s boat. He said if I tried to get away, he’d shoot you. He knew you were down at the old graveyard.”

  “He had been to my house earlier,” Burke said. “He told me Flora was in trouble and needed me. That sounded fishy ’cause I didn’t know him from Adam and I figured if Flora needed help, she wouldn’t send no stranger to get me. I was out in the yard, just about to ask him some questions and Wolf jumped him. I guess that dog knew human nature. Maybe he didn’t like the smell.”

  Jude grabbed his pistol again and waved it under Burke’s nose. “Watch it, old man. I shoulda shot you when I shot the dog but you were useful in helping me get the boat to the river.” His lips drew back in a sneer. “Besides, I’m such a kind-hearted gentleman.”

  Burke ignored him. “He shot poor Wolf. Shot him dead right in front of me. He pointed that gun at me and told me to get my boat. He made me paddle down the river a piece and then brought me here to Old String’s place and tied me up.”

  Sleet rattled against the worn boards of the barn and a cold wind blew through a crack in the wall directly behind me, sending a shiver down my back. The weather was taking a turn for the worse. If Mom and Burke had been here since yesterday, I didn’t think they could take much more of this.

  Somehow, before another frigid night, we had to escape from our prison. Jude had hurriedly tied the ropes that bound my wrists. Could I possibly work the knots loose? Would a little subterfuge confuse him? Maybe if he thought Mom or I would sign his deed, he would at least untie our hands and we would have a chance to grab his gun.

  “Um, Mr. Melton.” Jude had been staring out the open shed door. When I spoke, he turned around and glared at me.

  “Perhaps if you told us what there is about our land—”

  “Eileen’s land,” he growled.

  “OK. Suppose you tell us what’s so important to you on that land. Maybe we can reach some sort of compromise.”

  Mom bumped my side with her elbow. “Darcy!”

  “We’ve got a lot more than forty acres, Mom,” I said, winking at her with the eye that was away from Melton. “We probably wouldn’t miss it. You ought to know, though, Mr. Melton, that we’ve already been offered a hefty price and now you’re asking us to give it to you? Think about that.”

  I’ll never know what Jude would have answered because at that moment, his partner strode through the door.

  Mom gasped and my mouth fell open.

  Burke’s low laugh was without mirth. “Bruce Dowell,” he muttered. “I knew you ran with a mangy bunch but I didn’t suspect even you would stoop this low.”

  Dowell’s bulk filled the doorway. He glanced at Jude Melton then stood grinning down at the three of us. He spoke to Burke. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you, old feller? Slippin’ around all quiet-like, always knowing more than the next man. Well, who’s so smart now? You and your friends are all trussed up like turkeys.” He threw back his head and laughed.

  “And you!” He turned his hard eyes on Mom. “You’re always keeping secrets, telling a fellow just enough to whet his appetite. I know you found a box out there on your land. Cub said he dug it out for you. I’m betting he found some of that 1930s money from the bank robberies. He has been looking for it for years and so have I. My cows pasture on your land and I pay you rent for the privilege. I figure that I should have as much right to it as you do. I want to know what’s in it and what’s more, I want that box.”

  Melton was half Dowell’s size but he bristled up like a bull dog pup. “Back off, Dowell. I don’t care about a box. I just want one of these women to sign this deed. Then as far as I’m concerned, I’m out of here.”

  I licked my dry lips. “What do you mean you’re out of here? What about us?”

  Melton grinned. “You can go on back home if you want to; I don’t care. Oh, I forgot. You’re all tied up. Well, maybe your boyfriend sheriff will find you before you freeze to death. If you’re lucky.”

  An odd light flickered in Jude Melton’s eyes. At that moment, I realized he was not entirely sane. Surely he should know that even if the deed gave him ownership, he would never be able to enjoy those forty acres. After kidnapping charges were brought against him, he wouldn’t dare show his face in Ventris County. Besides, what court would uphold a deed signed under duress? It made absolutely no sense. He had an odd fixation on Eileen, a mindless attraction. The fact that she had tried to kill me didn’t seem important to him. It was almost as if Eileen had mesmerized him and he was just an automaton following her command.

  Shock registered on Bruce Dowell’s face. “Wait a minute. The deal was we’d make them give us that box and we’d split whatever is in it. I don’t care about Miss Flora’s land and you somehow failed to mention it. But we can’t just leave them out here. In this weather, they might freeze to death.”

  Melton pulled the gun from his coat pocket and turned it over thoughtfully. “You were useful to me in keeping an eye on these three. Very helpful in letting me know when Darcy and Flora were alone out there by the river but don’t start getting balky on me now. That’s up to you to find out what’s in some old box if that’s what’s worrying you. I don’t care a hoot about it. There probably ain’t nothing in that box that amounts to anything. All I want is for one of these women
to sign me a deed. ’Cause I know what’s in that land. Yes Sir, I know. And I want it.”

  Bruce’s eyes widened. “Where’d you get that gun? I sure don’t want murder on my record. Put that fool thing away.”

  Burke’s quiet voice contrasted with Bruce and Jude’s loud bluster. “You should have thought about that a long time ago, my friend, long before you got mixed up with this jaybird.”

  Jude swung his gun toward Burke. “I don’t need you at all. All I wanted from you was your boat and now that I have that…”

  “Get him, Ranger!” called Burke.

  A black and tan fury hurled itself through the door of the shed directly at Jude Melton. Ranger’s jaws clamped around Jude’s arm that held the gun, sending him crashing to the floor at our feet. The gun spun out of his hand and thudded into a far corner.

  “Get off! Get away!” screamed Jude, flailing and kicking at the snarling dog attached to his arm.

  Jude and Ranger rolled across the floor. Jude kicked over the lantern, spilling kerosene and flames into the leaves that had blown in between cracks in the walls and now littered the dirt floor. In only a few seconds, fire flicked through the murkiness of String’s tumbledown shed, eating hungrily at the splintered board wall.

  My pulse beat in my ears like a drum. That fire would soon demolish this tinder-dry building.

  “Darcy,” Mom yelled. “We’ve got to get out of here. We’ll all be burned to death.

  Smoke clogged my lungs and blurred my vision. I heard Burke beside me, coughing. Already the smoke was so thick, it was hard to see anything except the rectangle of daylight through the open door.

  Somewhere in the barn, Jude’s screams rose above the crackle of the flames.

  Chapter 31

  Bruce Dowell ran to my mother, pitched her over his shoulder and staggered out of the hut. I was rolling, bound as I was, toward the door with Burke right behind me when Bruce returned. Smoke filled the shed, and flames licked high along the wall boards toward the rafters. If the roof fell in, we’d be killed.

 

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