Chasing Shadows (A Shadow Chronicles Novel) (27 page)

“You don’t think the Mitchell boys would do something like this, do you?”

“Absolutely not!”
I said tartly. “None of them would—I told you, farmers take care of each other. Harry’s been especially friendly since the pig I sold him a couple years ago won prizes at the county and state fairs last year.”

Parks’ eyebrows rose. “How friendly are you with Mr. Mitchell?”

This time it was Mark who answered indignantly. “Just what the hell are you getting at, Lt. Parks? She’s already told you she doesn’t think any of the Mitchells would do this to her.”

“Jealous men do crazy things, Sergeant. When did the two of you start seeing each other?” Parks said.

“I moved in two days ago,” Mark said through clenched teeth. “But we’ve known each other for a long time.”

“How long is a long time?”

“Is that really any of your business?” Juliette asked.

“I am trying to establish motive here. For someone to release four animals but leave twenty-nine others to die strikes me as the act of someone with a lot of anger—anger directed at Ms. Caldwell,” Lt. Parks said calmly. “Who would have cause to do that? Do you have any enemies, ex-boyfriends?”

“Twenty-eight, actually,” Mark said with a glance at me. “We sold a pig to her brother Friday afternoon.”

I wondered for a moment why he had said that, and then I realized: Harry must have told one of the firefighters how many animals
should
be in the barn besides the horses. When the mess was cleaned up, they would only find ten pigs instead of eleven. Sighing, I stroked and kissed the round heads of my dogs,
who—
although no longer trembling—seemed still reluctant to leave the warmth and comfort offered by my breasts.

“Lt. Parks, until two days ago, I had lived on this farm alone for five years. I haven’t dated in ages, except for Mark. Hell, when he moved in it was originally just to help me out around the farm, but living in such close proximity, we realized there was a lot more between us than just friendship. When his sister told us she needed a place to stay, I offered her the apartment over the barn, where Mark was originally going to live.” I paused for breath, reflected on what I had just said, and judged it fine. It was a closer approximation of the truth than just having said we’d known each other a long time, which by human standards we hadn’t. It bothered me a lot, but I also realized that we were going to have to ask my brother and possibly Mrs. Singleton to lie for us, verifying that Mark and I had known each other for some time.

“I really don’t get out all that much,” I went on. “The farm took up so much of my time. So no, I don’t have any enemies, not that I know of.”

Parks seemed to consider that a moment, then he jotted some more notes down. “What about your family? Mr. Mitchell said you once told him you don’t get along with your dad or your sister.”

For a split second I wanted to throttle Harry Mitchell, but dismissed the thought just as quickly, as Parks was bound to hear the news from someone. “I don’t get on all that well with them, that’s true. But despite the fact that we’re estranged, my father was generous enough to allow us to take his private jet to Ireland yesterday. He even went with us.”

“And your sister?”

I shrugged. “What can I say? We’re sisters who don’t get along,” I replied.

“Would she do something like this?”

I had to laugh. “Evangeline can be a bitch, but she’s a cunning bitch,” I told him honestly. “If she were going to try and get back at me for something, she’d be a lot more subtle than setting my barn on fire. Trust me, Lieutenant, you’re barking up the wrong tree on that one.”

After a moment of silence, Parks looked at me and asked, “Do you have insurance, Ms. Caldwell?”

I knew that, logically, it was a legitimate question—probably even standard procedure. But for goodness’ sake, surely they didn’t think I’d hired someone to burn my barn down for a paltry insurance payment? If I were going to do that, I’d have at least spared the animals, none of whom would have deserved to die for my greed, and I said as much to the arson investigator sitting across from me.

Parks considered that for a moment, then after scribbling yet another series of notes into his notebook he flipped it closed and stood. He slipped the notebook and pen into a pocket with one hand and fetched his wallet with the other, from which he produced a business card.

“Please do not hesitate to call me if you think of anything that might be helpful,” he said, laying the card on the table. “I am sorry for your loss.”

I nodded silently, and Juliette walked with him to the back door. As soon as she had closed it behind him, I stood with the dogs in my arms, saying, “I’m going to bed. Jules, there’s a guest room upstairs you’re welcome to sleep in.”

The younger woman
nodded,
her expression sad. First her brother and then she followed me through the house, the two of them making sure the doors were locked and the lights were off.

I gestured toward the other bedroom where Juliette could sleep and then entered mine. I gently put Moe and Cissy down on their bed, kneeling and petting them and speaking to them in a soft voice to reassure the Chihuahuas that everything was okay. After several minutes they settled down, and I numbly rose and walked over to the dresser for a nightgown.

I did not think I would have been in the mood for physical intimacy—I was truly devastated by the loss of twenty-eight animals that were precious to me, that had nourished my body and my bank account for several years. Sex was the farthest thing from my mind right then, but the moment Mark came up behind me and put his arms around me, I could think of nothing else but the need to feel him—on me, touching me,
inside me. I spun in his arms, dropping the nightgown I had chosen to grab his head in my hands, bringing his mouth to mine. I needed to feel him, to join with him, to find some affirmation that there was still life in the midst of my pain.

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Mark hesitated for only a second before tightening his grip on me and opening his mouth to allow my advancing tongue entrance. I reveled in the taste of him as I had every other time we’d kissed passionately, but I wanted more.

I pushed him toward the bed and reached to yank off my socks and shoes. Mark did the same, and we divested ourselves of the rest of our clothing in quick succession. Coming together again, our mouths and hands explored one another, but I was still feeling needy and eager, so I pushed him again. He fell back against the bed and reached for me even as I straddled him, placing my knees on either side of his hips and guiding his mouth to my breast even as I lowered myself onto the already hardened length of him. He held onto me and rocked his hips in perfect rhythm with mine, his hands holding my derriere as his lips traveled between my mouth and each of my tingling nipples.

I moaned my pleasure and my breathing came in shallow gasps as I ground my pelvis against his, the friction teasing the sensitive nub below my pubic bone and sending delightful tremors through me. My arms wrapped around his neck and my hands fisted in his hair as I rode, holding him tightly to me. He suddenly turned and rolled us so that he was on top, and he began thrusting with fervor as I wrapped my legs around him, bringing him deeper into me. As I felt the first waves of my climax begin to roll through my body, I jerked his head to the side and dropped my fangs, biting down hard where his neck met his shoulder; every nerve ending in my body responded with
an intensity
I could not measure as I began to swallow his blood.

Mark buried his face in the mattress and groaned loudly as he came, thrusting hard and fast until he was spent. When his body stopped moving I stopped drinking, and he held me as I began to cry once more. It was a long time before I fell quiet.

*****

If I slept at all it was only intermittent naps, and we were up at seven when the alarm went off as usual. Before we did anything else, I made Mark drive me down the road to the Mitchell farm so that I could see the horses. Though I did not cry I could still feel tears behind my eyes as I hugged each of their necks and spoke soothingly to them. I was happy to see them, but could not help being reminded that their fellow barn mates had not survived.

“You know they can stay as long as you need them to,” Harry told me quietly.

I leaned into Hadhafang’s neck as I stroked her nose. “I’ll make sure you are duly compensated, Harry.”

He waved off my words. “Don’t worry about it.”

I looked pointedly at him. “Harry, I insist. You can’t afford to feed four more animals on your own. It’s only right I should pay you to keep them until I get a new barn built.”

My breath hitched on the last words, but I held the tears in check. I was not going to
cry anymore, I told myself sternly. The time for tears had come and gone—now it was time for mad.

Harry shook his head. “If you insist on paying for the feed yourself that’s up to you, but the board is free. It’s only neighborly, since you lost so much.”

Tommy, Harry’s eldest boy, came into the barn then with a basket full of eggs. “I’m s’posed to give these to ya, since your chickens didn’t make it,” the 16-year-old said.
“Real sorry ‘bout the barn and your animals, Ms. Caldwell.”

I stepped away from the aging mare and out of the stall they had put her in. After closing the gate I gave the teenager a hug, and then gave one to his father before I accepted the gift.

“You Mitchell men are too kind to me,” I said sincerely.

Tommy blushed and mumbled a thank you before turning and jogging back into the house. Harry gave me a long, assessing look. “How are you doing, sweetheart?” he asked.

I shrugged dismissively. “About as well as can be expected, I suppose,” I replied. “I mean, I cried, and cried, and cried some more. Don’t think I have any tears left, which is fine by me ‘cause now I just want to be pissed.”

“And rightly so,” Mark put in.

Harry glanced at him and nodded. “Indeed,” he echoed. “You got insurance to cover the damages, I assume?”

I laughed mirthlessly. “Yes, I have insurance. The arson investigator even asked me that this morning, although for a different reason, of course.”

My neighbor snorted. “They’d be idiots to look at you for this. You loved those animals like they were your own kin.”

Because his words hit so close to home, I gave Harry a smile. Maybe it was a farmer thing, who knew? But he was right—all my animals had been like family, especially given that it had been just me and them for years. Even a crop farmer like him understood that.

Harry adjusted the baseball cap he wore. “Probably stupid of me to ask, but you got any idea who woulda done this?”

I shrugged and heaved a sigh, and Mark put his arm around my shoulders as I said, “I haven’t got a clue, Harry. Not who, not why—and that’s what gets me, you know? Why would anybody have torched my barn? Why would they have set the horses free but not the rest of the animals? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“It’s possible the horses freed themselves,” he mused. “You don’t lock the barn, and they’re strong enough to kick the gates open.”

“Those yearlings couldn’t have,” Mark offered, shaking his head. “Whoever started that fire let the horses out and left the others behind to die. At least that’s the way it looks to me. I’m sure the investigation will tell us for sure.”

“To be honest with you, I don’t see how. I saw what happened—all the wood’s burnt to cinders and the metal clasps will have melted down,” said Harry.

I turned and walked back over to my horses, patting each one of them on the neck again and kissing the soft, peach-fuzzy end of their noses. “Goodbye, loves,” I told them. “If Harry doesn’t mind, I’ll come by and see you again later.”

“Now, sweetheart, you know darn well I won’t mind,” said Harry behind me.

I turned back with a weak smile of thanks. I then gave Harry another hug with my free arm and whispered “Thank you” in his ear.

He held me for a moment and said, “You’re more than welcome, Saphrona.”

When Mark and I were back in the truck and headed back toward home, he glanced over and asked me, “Whatever happened to his boys’ mother?”

I turned to look at him. “They’re divorced—happened about a year before I came back to the farm. Why do you ask?”

He shrugged. “Because I think Harry has feelings for you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re just friends.”

Mark shook his head. “Maybe on your end, Saphrona, but I saw how he looked at you, the expression on his face when he held you. He kept calling you ‘sweetheart.’ I’m telling you that he’s got some strong feelings for you.”

He turned up into the driveway then. “You don’t think he’s jealous enough to set my barn on fire and kill my animals, do you?” I
asked,
my tone disbelieving.

Setting the parking brake and turning off the engine, Mark turned to me. “No, honey, that’s not what I’m saying. From what little I’ve observed of the man, he cares about you too much to hurt you like that. It’s just that I noticed he cares. Probably wishes he was the one comforting you instead of me, so while he may be envious, he’s not so blindly jealous that he would have done this.”