Behind The Curve-The Farm | Book 1 | The Farm

by Craven III, Boyd

  They were both covered in mud and dust, smelling of diesel, dirt, and hard work. They were followed by Rob and Harry.

  “Ranger, Roscoe, let’s go,” Rob said, clapping his hands.

  Roscoe snuffed his nose, almost a chuffing sound, and then just laid there.

  “Roscoe let’s go. You want to get a rabbit?”

  The big dog got up slowly, stretching from the world's longest one-minute nap, then got off the bed and followed Rob to the doorway.

  “My mom said dinner is ready. She called a halt on construction projects and told me to let Curt know she can run them a couple of plates over.”

  “Dinner?” Andrea said, her stomach rumbling loudly. “I’ve been dreaming about your mother’s cooking. Hospital food should be labeled cruel and unusual punishment.”

  “You worked there for years,” Dante said. “How did you manage without eating anything?”

  “I packed a meal in or got a salad. What’s Grandma Goldie got for dinner tonight?”

  “Hamburgers. A mix of smoked bacon and some of our grass fed from out back. Just got our first critters back from the butcher we’re trying out, and we got a sample to taste test.”

  “A bacon burger, but the bacon is mixed into the hamburger?” Curt asked, almost drooling.

  “Yep, ground right in.”

  “Come on guys, I think we ought to give Curt and Andrea some time to get around. Give me a shout when you’re ready for us to bring you a plate, or I’ll knock and set it just inside the cabin on the table?”

  “What kind of shenanigans do you think we’ll be up to?” Andrea asked with a grin. “I’m too busted up to really put Curt in danger of pulling a muscle.”

  Angelica turned a bright shade of red, but Anna was laughing as quietly as she could.

  “I figured you might want a real shower,” Angelica said quietly, embarrassed.

  “Ohhhhh… Now that sounds good. I’ll just need some trash bags and…”

  “Duct tape!” Leah shouted. “Where is it?”

  “Top right drawer, in the kitchen.”

  “Right next to the zip ties?” she asked.

  “No, those are next to the whipped cream in the fridge,” Andrea said.

  “I thought that’s where the pink handcuffs and beads were?” Leah called.

  Angelica was turning about four shades of purple by this time.

  “What do you need the duct tape for?” Rob asked and promptly got smacked in the back by Angelica.

  “Tape the garbage bags tight so no water gets in and gets her casts wet,” Curt said with a grin.

  Angelica’s head looked like she was ready to pop. She was considering running before she embarrassed herself further. Anna saw her predicament and grinned. “Come on, let’s get the big doggos out of here before they get underfoot.”

  “Yeah, I think I’ll join you guys,” Rob said, almost laughing at his wife, which would have been a fatal move.

  Leah found the supplies and gave them to a grinning Curt and Andrea. They had not had much to really smile and laugh about lately, so this little bit of tomfoolery was the high point of amusement for them for the entire week so far.

  “Call us if you need anything,” Dante said to Curt.

  “Will do. Now go hurry and eat, I am going to see if after her shower I can get her in a side by side easier than the Suburban, so maybe we can drive over?”

  As it turned out, food was still steaming hot on their dining table near the front door of the cabin when they both got out of the walk-in shower. Andrea was smiling despite the pain. Standing hurt, even with assistance, even though she was not putting much weight on her leg. She would be able to bear a crutch over time, but not right now. She should not even be putting weight on it, but necessity is the mother of Murphy’s law.

  Twenty-Two

  Roscoe asked to be let into the cabin in the morning. Curt let him in and saw folks milling around the big house. They had cooked breakfast in the cabin already, and the coffee pot was running for the second time that day. He had moved Andrea into a recliner that she could handle with the push of a button and gotten her situated.

  After dinner last night, they had talked about the fence they were putting up around the farm. If things went well, they would have more posts, wire, and cement coming today. They had to get posts set and the support beams cemented in place before they strung wire.

  They were hoping to stretch wire and put in razor wire by this time in the morning tomorrow. As the group went to work, a truck was being loaded at the farm store. Curt would pay the driver, then head into his office to get a shipment for Dante, check the mail and answering machine and then come home.

  “I was wondering if you had met or heard of Curt Mallory?” a young man named Rich Raines asked at the small general store.

  “Sure, he’s married to one of the three docs,” the clerk said, bagging a small amount of groceries.

  “Any chance you know where I can find them?” Rich asked, hoping he was not overplaying his hand.

  “Right across the street.” The clerk pointed. “The old antiques shoppe. Curt is opening a new real estate office here. Just got the building and is starting to clean it out. You know him?” the clerk asked, curiously.

  “I … sort of. I live out this way, a couple towns up, and saw his wife on the news…”

  “Sorry business, that. Good thing they got everything on video. I hope she heals soon.”

  “She’s … huh?” Rich asked.

  “Her whole left side of her body is all busted up from what I heard on the news,” the clerk said, finishing bagging the few items. “Oh, sorry for interrupting. What were you going to say?”

  “Just that I saw them on the news and saw he had a new real estate office nearby. My parents are thinking of selling their place.”

  “Just head on over the street. I think his black Suburban is pulled into the parking lot already. It is on the left side. Just do not block the back, he has trucks running in and out of there.”

  “Good to know, thank you!” Rich said, taking his bags, and walking out the door.

  He threw the unneeded groceries into the back seat then got into his car. He debated seeing if the Mallorys were in the store or not, but he decided to check in and wait.

  Found Curt’s new real estate office. Small town near Boonville. He is supposed to be inside there now. Want me to make contact?

  Not yet. Watch, follow. We are sending more people. Wait for the big van.

  Rich sighed. He did not want to wait, he wanted to get his job done and over with. He had no personal malice against either Curt, or his wife Andrea Mallory, who had ignited a shitstorm of epic proportions. Rich was incredibly good at his job, and what he wanted to do, more than anything else, was get verification, get paid and get out of the area. He knew what was coming, but now he had to wait. He got a text from another of his team saying they would be in later on tonight and they would try for a meet tomorrow.

  “Great, now I have to figure out where to stay,” Rich mumbled to himself and started searching his phone for the nearest Airbnb, hotel, motel, or room to sleep at. Around here, there was very little, and he ended up calling and getting reservations set for himself and three others almost thirty minutes away.

  Before he left, Rich drove by the parking lot of the little antique store turned office. A black Suburban with an enclosed trailer was parked to the side. He could see movement inside the store but kept moving away slowly as if he were lost and looking for an address. He pulled off the side of the road for a moment, trying to catch his breath as his body got an adrenaline dump. He was shocked when his target opened the front door, locked it, then walked to the Suburban and got in.

  It was Curt. He had been shown a recent picture, taken as Curt had been going in and out of the hospital before the DA had decided to charge his wife. The fact that their case was a setup and the charges had to be dropped was not a bother to Rich, though to both factions who were paying him, it mattered a LOT. D
eciding to throw caution to the wind, Rich waited until the Suburban passed him before pulling out.

  Curt was sore. Another load of medical equipment. At the rate Dante had bought the stuff, they could open their own small practice and emergency care center right here. They had exam tables, stretchers, IV stands, x-ray equipment, and things Curt had no name for. A lot of it would be going immediately into the medical center at the farm, but he was starting to get tired of lugging all this stuff that seemed to get little to no use. Curt thought Dante had bought it because he could. There was just so much stuff.

  The car behind him was not what he was used to seeing out in the country. It was a small compact, foreign job. Everybody out here drove mostly big trucks, work vans, or SUVs. The winters here were supposed to be muddy, sometimes slick. The little hybrid electric job was having a hard time keeping up in the ruts of the dirt roads that Curt was taking to the farm.

  He got an uneasy feeling and decided to test it out. He turned away from the farm on a road that went back towards town. He waited, sweating. The car made the turn as well. He knew in half a mile there was another turn that led back towards the farm or to go back east, the direction he had been going. He decided to take the car away from the farm.

  “Rob,” Curt said as soon as Rob had hit reply to the cell phone they’d gotten him for emergencies, “I’ve got a problem.”

  “What’s up?” Rob asked, serious.

  “I’ve got somebody I think is trying to follow me. I do not want to lead them back to the farm. I am on Yellow Creek Road. Any suggestions?”

  “Heading east or west?” Rob asked.

  “East, headed back towards town.”

  “I’ll meet you at the T-junction at Bear Down Trail and Yellow Creek Road in my truck. Just drive like you are out for a stroll, looking at shit.”

  “I’ve got a full trailer, they know I’m going to be loading or unloading somewhere.”

  “Loading… hm… head towards the farm store once I meet you at the intersection,” Rob said, huffing, and Curt could hear his truck door slamming.

  “Ok, I’m putting you on speaker so I can get some surprises out in case this car is following me, and he isn’t friendly.”

  “I borrowed Dante and his surprises. I’ll see you in five.”

  Rich figured he had made a mistake somewhere. Followed too close or something. For an investigator, he was not used to having to follow vehicles in the countryside where there was no cover. Hell, where they were now, there really was not any traffic to speak of. Rich had almost lost sight of Curt once and had hit the pedal to the metal, making the hamsters and rubber bands in his hybrid car squeal in protest. When he’d come up over the hill, he’d realized that he’d gotten too close and, instead of locking the brakes up, making it obvious he had been speeding to catch up, he’d let off the gas and put his car going a couple of miles an hour slower than Curt’s.

  He had decided to follow at about a quarter mile to half a mile back. He could see the dust and dirt from the road ahead of him, even if he could not see his quarry. He was patient, trying to watch both the road and all the signs. If he could find their house, the infamous compound they had overheard Dr. Weaver’s husband mention to his wife, he would get a nice fat bonus. He would be able to sip fruity drinks with umbrellas and watch the chaos descend on TV from a tropical beach, thousands of miles away...

  When Curt had made his second turn, doubling back towards town, Rich was certain he had been spotted. He was playing with his phone, trying to get his map to find him a way to his motel room, when there was a crunch and a thump, making his car shudder to a stop. He slammed on the brakes. There was a smell of steam, antifreeze, and a car horn. He realized it was his car horn.

  Rich put his car in park and saw that, while looking down, he had rear ended a jacked up pickup truck. Groaning, he got out the same time the driver did.

  “The fuck you doing asshole? You didn’t even stop at that stop sign!” Rob thundered at the scrawny man who was wearing tight skinny jeans.

  “Sorry, I didn’t see you until…”

  “You weren’t even looking at the road!” Rob yelled, walking to the man. “Give me your information.”

  “Well, let’s see what’s wrong first,” Rich countered, walking to the front of his car.

  There was a green puddle underneath the foreign car, the lifeblood of the gas engine portion bleeding out onto the dirt road that just lapped it up like a thirsty dog would do with nice clear water.

  “Huh,” Rob said checking his rear bumper. “You must have got up and on my hitch. Doesn’t look like it damaged me any. How about you?”

  The big man smiled at Rich, making him want to run and hide. The guy was tall, rangy, almost six and a half feet. His hands were scarred, Rich noticed, because the big guy kept making fists, looking at him.

  “I guess we should call the cops,” Rich said, hating that Curt had gotten away.

  “Oh, that’s no problem,” Rob said, pulling out his phone, dialing.

  “Sherry, this is Little Rob. Yeah, I had some yahoo in a foreign jobby rear-end my truck at the corner of Yellow Creek road and… Yeah. Little Prius thing. He is going to need a tow truck. Can I come in later and sign the statement? Yeah, there is no doubt who’s at fault here, and it ain’t me. Yeah, I will let the little weasel dicked fuckhead know you will be right out. Thanks, I have errands to run, and my wife would about beat my ass if I am late. You know where to find me? Yeah, this number is good to contact me at. Just don’t give it to the fuckwad. Thanks girl. Bye.”

  Rich watched in shock as the big man called up a police officer he seemingly knew and knew by name. Any hopes he had of downplaying what had happened and who was at fault went out the window. He just hoped that he could convince ADA Winters that this really was an accident, and not him being stupid. It was one of her pool cars he had been loaned for the job.

  Twenty-Three

  After talking on the phone a while, using their radios when he got closer, Curt was confident he had made it to the farm without being noticed or followed.

  “Sherry Parker is going to be stopping out later to get my statement,” Rob said at the big kitchen table that night.

  “She’s that state trooper we met the night we met these guys?” Angelica asked.

  “That’s her,” Rob said with a grin. “The one you wanted to monkey stomp because she was playing place the face with me when we ran into her two weeks back.”

  “I wanted to monkey stomp her bitch ass because I thought she was checking out my man!” Angelica said, then covered her hand over her mouth as Grandma Goldie popped her in the backside with a wooden spoon. That made her jump, which made everybody else laugh. Roscoe and Ranger finished the noise off with some howls, drowning out the humans.

  “Anyways,” Rob said, “we ran into her when we were at the Farmer’s Market. She recognized the stall we were at, and we got talking. I am glad she went with that other super trooper the night of the bar fight. I guess he’s a hot head; thinks he’s the next MMA champion who hasn’t been discovered yet.”

  “Rob would have bent him over and had his way with him if he had tried,” Angelica told Anna.

  “This shit is not appropriate for the mother fucking dinner table,” Goldie screamed, shooting to her feet, and shaking the spoon in the air.

  Silence fell, then everyone, including little Harry, burst into laughter.

  “Shit,” Goldie said, then sat back down.

  “I hear somebody coming in the driveway,” Harry said.

  They fell quiet again, and the sounds of gravel crunching could be heard. Rob and Angelica got up from the table and headed outside, followed by Ranger. Roscoe was sitting by Andrea’s side. It was the first time she had tried the side by side. It was easier for her to get in and out, so she only needed a little help with the porch stairs. She was glad to be eating with her large extended family, but right now she wanted her AR in her hands to cover from the windows. She had seen evil firsthand.<
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  “It’s her,” Rob called. “Any problems if I invite her inside?”

  “I’m not worried,” Anna said.

  The rest of the group agreed and, when the state police cruiser stopped, Sherry was greeted by both dogs and a grinning Rob and Angelica.

  “Holy smokes,” Sherry said walking up to the porch, her eyes hardly moving off Rob.

  “I never realized the size difference between you two. Rob, nice to see you again. I saw your nearly perfect bumper and your trailer hitch. Did it get stuck in the guy's radiator?”

  “Yeah, tore out the whole front when I drove away. It could not be helped. The yahoo was playing with his phone and ran into my backside after blowing the stop sign.”

  “That’s what he said. He was looking for a local hotel.”

  “Ain’t no hotels around here. Want to come inside? We’re having supper, you’re welcome to join us.”

  “I… thanks, yeah, let’s go inside to talk.”

  Introductions were made all around again, with officer Parker’s eyes widening as she realized that two of the six folks who were new in town were the ones all over the news. Problem was, everybody thought they were on the east side of the state. She had met them before, gotten their names, but had not put together the folks on TV who were the ones at a barely remembered bar fight they were not a part of. She blamed her mind slipping a gear on getting old.

  “Pass this down,” Grandma Goldie said, handing a plate to Rob, who passed it to Harry, who passed it to Angelica, who passed it to Sherry on the end.

  “Thanks, but I’m not sure--”

  “If you don’t eat, she’ll get you with a wooden spoon,” Harry said.

  “What?!” Sherry asked in alarm. “She beats you with a spoon?” Her face went from calm to a mask of anger.

  “No ma’am,” Harry said, “just my ma and pa. When they’re being dirty minded or cussing too much, she’ll pop them in the butt. Sometimes it’s a Gibbs slap, but I don’t know why it’s called a Gibbs slap.”