2 A Deadly Beef (25 page)

"He
stumbled onto my operation, so I didn’t have much choice," she
said.  "You see, I can’t make a living as a farmer, at least
not with the crops I’m allowed by the government to grow and sell on my
land."

"You’ve
got a marijuana field somewhere on your land," I said, suddenly
remembering the sheriff’s complaint about the increase of pot sales in
our area when he’d first told me about Wally Bain’s murder.

"It’s
just a little one," she said.  I kept it hidden within other crops,
and I’ve been doing pretty well with it over the years, adding a little
more to it during each planting season.  Then one day Wally was out
walking his land and accidently wandered over onto mine.  He found the
pot, and decided that a little extortion was in order.  He told me that if
I paid him every month, he’d keep his mouth shut.  I didn’t have
much choice at first, and Wally’s bite was small enough to handle, though
it was most likely quite a lot for him, but then the man got greedy.  I
had to stop it, so I offered him a huge payout, and I decided to end the
extortion once and for all instead."

"So,
that explains why he quit caring so much about the produce he supplied the
diner and the grocery store.  He suddenly didn’t need our money,
anymore."

"I
told him not to get sloppy, but he wouldn’t listen to me.  You
don’t see me parading my wealth around town, do you?"

"What
do you
do
with all that money?" I asked, honestly curious about
it.

"Mostly
I spend it on travel.  I tell folks I’m going to farming
conventions, but I head for my place in Paris, instead.  I’ve got
the cutest little apartment over there."

"I
had no idea," I admitted, which was true enough.  "Just how
lucrative is your business?"

"More
than you can imagine," she said.

"It
was a pretty dramatic way to end the arrangement, stabbing him in the chest
with his own pitchfork," I said.  My cell phone was in my pocket,
but I couldn’t get to it without Sally seeing what I was doing.

"The
poor sap never even suspected what was coming.  I left through the back
door of the barn, and nobody had a clue what I’d done."

"You
were in the clear, though.  Why did you bring Ron into it?"

"Ron. 
I’m glad you brought him up.  I bet you’re wondering why I
didn’t show up at the hospital tonight, aren’t you?"

"The
thought crossed my mind," I said.

"I
have a friend who works there.  She checked around, and it wasn’t
too hard to figure out that it was nothing more than a trap.  But that
told me something, too.  You knew enough to make sure I heard about Ron,
so that meant that I was a suspect in your mind.  It’s funny, but I
thought you had it figured out when you and Moose first tried to come in the
back way to my farm.  That used to be how I moved the product in and
out.  It’s lucky for me that I blocked the access lane after Ron
started sniffing around.  He had an inkling that I was up to something
illegal, so I hired him to help out on the place to keep him around.  What
is it they say, keep your friends close, and your enemies even closer? 
Well, that was exactly what I decided to do.  I was going to see that he
had an accident on my farm, but the fool ended up doing it for me."

"So,
he didn’t know what you were up to?"

"I
don’t think so, and if I’m lucky, we’ll never find
out."

"I
wonder what he meant when he said that his hands were dirty," I said.

"He
was always washing his hands.  He has some kind of disorder, if you ask
me.  Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, you know?  Anyway, it was an
accident, just a happy little accident."

We
were still quite a ways from where Sally’s farm stood, but she suddenly
took a turn that I had grown all too familiar with lately.  We were
heading down the back way to her place, and past Abel’s house.  I
would have loved some help from the quirky old man, but as far as I knew, he
was long gone. 

I was
on my own.

"One
last thing," I said as she neared the cutoff to her land. 
"Why did you bother setting the house on fire?"

"Jan
was being unreasonable about the price, despite our friendship a long time
ago.  I think she resents me wrecking her car back then to this day. 
I figured that if I burned the place down, she’d come down in her
demands."

"But
you’ve got more money than you know what to do with," I said. 
"Wasn’t it a foolish risk to take doing that?"

"What’s
life without taking a chance now and then?" she asked. 
"That’s what I do every day.  One more risk wasn’t going
to kill me."

Sally
pulled into her access path and stopped just before the tree that was still
blocking the way.  Putting her truck in Park, she said,
"Here’s where we get out."

I
thought about making a run for it then and there, hoping to get lost in the
woods and the darkness.

She
kept the gun pointed at my head, though, so I never got the chance. 
"Don’t get any ideas, Victoria."

I
waited for her to get out on her side, but she surprised me by sliding over on
the seat toward me.  It was dark out, with just the whisper of moonlight
shining, and I wondered if we’d both be stumbling around in the shadows.

As I
opened the truck’s passenger door, Sally finally made a mistake as she
got just a little too close to me.  I slammed the truck’s door,
hoping to catch her hand in it, but instead, I caught the gun.  It
exploded, and I felt the bullet tug at my shirt, though as far as I could tell,
it didn’t hit me.

Sally
dropped the weapon after it fired, and I dove for it, but she was on top of me
before I knew what was happening.  I worked in a diner, and the most
strenuous thing I did most days was haul around a tub of dirty dishes. 
Sally, on the other hand, worked as hard as any man.  She had
well-developed muscles that were just too much for me.

It was
a battle I lost all too easily.

Once
she had the gun again, she got up, rubbed her wrist, and smiled.  "I
should thank you for doing that.  I was having a little trouble with the
idea of shooting you down in cold blood, but you just gave me a reason."

"You
don’t have to kill anyone else," I said.  "We can work
something out."

"I
doubt that.  Anyway, why should I listen to you?  Once I take care of
you, I’ll pick off Moose and Greg without too much trouble.  I
know.  I’ll tell them that you’re in trouble.  Both men
will come running."

"You
said that you’d leave them alone if I went with you!" I shouted.

"So
I lied.  Yell all you want to, Victoria.  There’s no one out
here to here but the two of us, and all of nature.  Stop just ahead. 
We’re here."

I
glanced down and saw three dark openings in the earth, and a backhoe sitting
nearby. 

It
took me a second to realize that they were graves, and that one of them was
meant for me.

I was
done making it easy on her.  If I was going to die, it wasn’t going
to be without a good fight.  Looking around frantically, I searched in the
faded moonlight for anything I could use as a weapon.  There was a loose
chain near the backhoe, and I wondered if I could get to it before she could
shoot me.  The only other thing I saw was a dead branch on the ground a
few feet away.  Maybe I could use it, if only I could get it in time.

I
pretended to stumble as I walked forward, grabbing at the branch and swinging
it in her direction. 

The
gun fired again, and the branch shattered in my grip.  I didn’t
doubt for an instant that the shot had been meant for me, and if I hadn’t
moved at the last second, she would have nailed me.  As it was, my hands
were numb from the impact of the bullet hitting the branch.

I knew
that I’d taken my last chance to get out of this alive, but at least
I’d tried.

And
then I heard the welcome sound of a friendly voice behind us both.

"Drop
it, Sally.  I’ve got you covered."

Evidently
Abel hadn’t wandered off that far after all.

As I
stood back up, Sally shouted, "Stay right where you are."

"I’ll
shoot you if I have to," Abel said, his voice shaking a little as he
pointed the shotgun at her middle.  "I’ve been watching you
and your crops for years with a blind eye, but these killings have crossed the
line.  Somebody’s got to stop you."

"That
gun hasn’t worked in thirty years," she said.

"Don’t
try me," he said.

We
both heard Abel’s voice shaking as he said it, and I wondered if he had
what it took to pull the trigger.

Sally
started to turn toward him, the gun in her hand going straight toward him, and
to Abel’s credit, he didn’t even hesitate.

There
was a sudden boom, and I saw Sally collapse back into one of the holes
she’d dug for me and my family, the pistol flying from her hands into the
woods as she fell.

I got
up, and Abel and I walked over to the makeshift grave and looked down. 

"Is
she dead?" I asked.

"She
shouldn’t be.  I aimed for her legs, but I couldn’t take too
much of a chance.  I was afraid that I’d hit you, too," Abel
said. 

He got
a match from his pocket, lit it, and then he held it over the hole. 

We
both looked down and saw Sally struggling to stand and pull herself out of the
hole, to no avail. 

"I
can’t believe you just shot me!" she said, her voice seething with
rage.

"Believe
it.  You know, maybe trying to climb out of that hole isn’t such a
good idea after all.  Do you really want to get shot again?" Abel
asked.

Sally
suddenly slumped down, and Abel tossed the match into the hole with her.

"Hey,"
she snapped indignantly, and for some reason, I started laughing and crying at
the same time.

"I
don’t know what’s wrong with me," I said through my giggles
and my tears.  "I can’t seem to stop myself."

"You’re
just reacting to nearly being killed," Abel said.  "It’s
perfectly natural."

After
a few more giggles and the last of the tears, thankfully I was finally able to
get myself under control.  What an odd way to behave.

"Do
you have your cell phone on you, Victoria?" Abel asked softly.

I
nodded, and pulled it out of my pocket.  It hadn’t done me much good
on the drive over, but I could surely use it now.

"Sheriff,
we need you behind Sally Ketchum’s farm," I said.  "You
might want to bring an ambulance with you, too.  Abel Link had to shoot
her to keep her from killing me."

Thanksgiving
Day

"We
need more yams," I called out through the pass-through window at the
diner.  "And if you’ve got more mashed potatoes, I
wouldn’t say no."

"They’re
a hungry lot today," Greg said with a smile, and then turned to my
grandfather.  "Moose, how are we doing on the yams?"

"Don’t
ask me.  Those are both in your mother-in-law’s part of the
kitchen," he said.

Mom
laughed.  "If you ask me, there are too many cooks back here. 
We’re all stumbling all over each other every time we turn around."

"I
don’t know.  I’d say things are just right," Moose said
with a broad smile. 

Out
front, Martha and I were waiting tables, even though Ellen and Jenny had both
come by to help out on their day off, too.  There was no need for anyone
to work the cash register.  Thanksgiving was the one day of the year we
opened the diner and offered food free of charge for those who couldn’t
afford their own meals, or had to dine alone.  We were always packed, we
lost a great deal of money, and it was one of the happiest days in our
year. 

I
looked around at the folks I loved, thankful again for having each and every
one of them in my life. There was nothing like almost dying to put it all in
perspective, not that I’d been short of thanks before. This was
different, and we all knew it.  Our blessings reached well beyond the
things we owned.  They were more significant because we had each other to
share them with, both the highs and lows.

And
after all, that was the best reason to be thankful there was.

If you enjoyed A
Deadly Beef, be sure to try the next in the series,

A Killer Cake
, COMING SOON!

Chapter 1

The
moment the big gun went off, everybody gathered in the town square for the celebration
believed that the Civil War cannon was responsible for killing Roy
Thompson.  After all, his seat at the long table filled with folks eating
lunch or having dessert was in the direct line of fire of the old weaponry, and
it hadn’t been fired in donkey years.  However, it turned out that
the chamber was indeed empty when it had been fired, and though the noise and
ensuing shock wave of the explosion could have been enough to stop his heart,
neither had been the cause of his death.

 
It wasn’t long before I found myself wishing that the cannon had indeed
been the method of Roy’s demise.  Soon enough, word spread through
town like a hurricane that what really did him in was the Jasper Fork
bicentennial cake.  The fact that my diner had provided it for the
festivities meant that once again, my family was in the crosshairs of another
murder investigation.

My
name is Victoria Nelson, and along with my sometimes dysfunctional, but always
loving family, I run The Charming Moose Diner.  The place was named after
my grandfather a long time ago, and I loved the distinctive moniker. 
It’s easy enough to explain how we ended up volunteering to bake the
murder weapon for our town’s celebration, but it might be better to go
back to the day before Roy collapsed after taking his first bite of our cake.