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Authors: Christine

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BOOK: He's Got Her Goat
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She entered the house one last time. The closet was a deep space set under the attic stairs. Her sweater was at the very back. In the dim she could barely make it out among some of Uncle Bill’s old coats, which she couldn’t bear to get rid of. She yanked the red sweater off its hanger.

Dismissing her unease as an echo of previous fear, she pivoted to return to the car. Then she froze. Something had glistened in the dark. In the back corner. Right at eyelevel. Was it the handle of her umbrella on a hook? Her mind would not let her accept what she was seeing. It disappeared and reappeared again. Like a blink. No. It was the reflection of a human eye. Her mouth opened on its own to scream, but a gloved hand clamped across it, stopping any sound from escaping.

Shoving her from behind, the person cleared the closet then let her go. Paige still hadn’t seen the intruder’s face and wanted to run. The open door was right in front of her, but the distant sound of sirens bolstered her courage. She had to turn around.

“Blanche?” Paige was amazed that for her age, the woman was incredibly strong. Paige had assumed the bulk of her was fat, but it was all muscle.

Her neighbor’s gloved hands went up as though Paige was pointing a gun at her. “I’m so sorry. I came in to put milk in your freezer because the barn freezer is full and—”

“That’s a lie.” Paige flared. “I just checked it.”

Blanche lowered her hands as her heavy brow lifted. “Where’s your gun?”

“What? I don’t even own a gun.” Paige couldn’t understand what she was talking about.

“Didn’t you say you were armed?” she said evenly.

“Oh, that.” Paige let out a shuddering breath at the thought of how silly the whole pitchfork thing would have looked. Luckily, it was only Blanche, but she shouldn’t be in the house. This was wrong. “So what
are
you really doing here?”

Blanche moved toward the kitchen and sank onto one of the stools near the counter. “I suppose it’s time to come clean.” She seemed somewhat contrite. “I heard how popular your soap was and wanted to get the recipe for my emu oil. If I could turn it to soap . . .”

“It’s a whole different process.” How could her neighbor not have known that? The clean barn came to mind. Paige shook her head, not knowing what to believe. “Nothing I’ve done would help you.”

Blanche gave her a flat grin and said, “This is all a simple misunderstanding.”

Something in the inflection didn’t sound sincere. Then Paige noticed her gloves. They weren’t work gloves for milking or doing yardwork or latex gloves for rinsing. They were leather, sleek and black. Like a professional thief would wear.

The siren grew louder. Neither of them had moved, however the atmosphere in the room had shifted somehow. Paige’s heart started to race.

“You mean you weren’t bluffing?” Blanche’s eyes became hooded. “You really called 911? You idiot.”

The air ruptured from Paige’s lungs as Blanche’s elbow met her midsection. The room seemed to tilt in slow motion until the sudden crack of her head against the floor flooded the room in white.

 

Chapter Four

W
ITH THE WIND KNOCKED OUT OF HER
, Paige couldn’t get her bearings. Her back seemed glued to the cool tile. As her eyes came into focus, she could see Blanche through the still open front door, sprinting across the driveway and behind the barn. It took a few tries to get to her feet, and she was still unsteady by the time the sheriff’s car pulled in.

“My neighbor broke into the house and was hiding in the closet.” Paige struggled to catch her breath.

The seasoned deputy put his hand to his gun. His nametag read Dunn. “Was he armed? Did he hurt you?”

“It was a woman, and I don’t think she had a weapon.” Paige put her hand to her side. “But, she knocked me down when she heard you coming and ran back toward her place.” She pointed past the barn.

“Wait, you’re saying she lives to the west? In the old Erikson place.” Deputy Dunn scratched his balding head. “It’s been empty for years.”

“Not anymore. Blanche moved in late October.” Paige said. “She’s been helping me with the morning milking.”

“Blanche, who?” The corners of his nose lifted as though he were smelling something he didn’t like.

She opened her mouth then shut it. She’d never asked. It was always only Blanche. “It should be a matter of public record.”

Dunn ran his hand across his chin, peering the direction she’d pointed. “Got a friend who’s been wantin’ to buy that place and turn it into condos for a coon’s age. He promised me one of ‘em if I greased the wheels, so to speak, but the owners aren’t sellin’.” He looked to her with concern. “It’s possible your perp’s a renter, but more than likely she’s an uninvited guest, if you get my drift. Squatter. Are you up to checking it out?”

“Definitely.” Paige rushed out the door despite the stitch in her side. “It’s faster through here.” She gestured to a path by the barn that dipped through a gulley.

The older officer huffed trying to keep up. “So tell me what we’re up against? Is this woman big and bulky or young and wiry?

“Well,” Paige hesitated. “She’s strong but a little shorter than I am and at least ten years older, maybe more.”

“Did she look homeless?”

“Not at all.” Paige turned to face him. They’d reached the driveway and could see the large home in the distance. “I first met her here. She was driving a silver sedan. It looked almost new. She gave me the impression that she’d recently come into some money, either through retirement or divorce, so she could start fixing the place up.”

From a distance the home looked opulent with Greek pillars holding up a generous front pediment, but as they drew closer, she noticed the pillars were vinyl, and the siding had moss growing in the creases. On the front door a lockbox, the kind realtors use, lay at an angle. Paige hadn’t been this close to the house since she'd met Blanche.

“Not looking good.” Dunn peered in the windows. “Nobody’s lived here in forever.”

She swallowed as she took in the unmowed lawn and weeds pushing through cracks in the sidewalk and driveway. “I’d lost one of my goats and thought it might have wandered over here. She was standing right over there and told me all her plans. But I never saw her inside.” A walk around the side of the house confirmed her suspicions. The top rim of the emu pens sagged like telephone lines after a hurricane, and waist high weeds had taken over the yard.

She’d never felt so foolish. “Why would someone do this? She was at my place almost every day for the last two months.”

Dunn looked as confused as she felt. “I’ve got to admit it’s strange, but if she had money, she was probably aiming to get more of it. Aren’t you Bill Lindon’s niece?”

“Yes.” She blinked back the emptiness at the sound of her uncle’s name.

“Didn’t you get a good insurance payout at his passing?”

She shook her head. “It barely covered the medical bills. Except for the house, I’ve got almost nothing but student loans.”

Dunn’s chin wrinkled. “But she wouldn’t have known that. Could have found your name in the obits to pick you as a target. Should we head back and see what evidence she left behind? We still might find her.” He marched that direction.

Paige wanted to salute him. “Yes, sir.”

As Deputy Dunn slid back the large barn door, he whistled. “Might have known Bill’s niece would keep her establishment ship shape. Carrying on the Lindon tradition?”

“Well…” Paige was about to explain, but Petunia started braying at the sound of their voices. The nanny lifted up on her hind legs as high as she could, so her head was peeking over the top of the stall.

Dunn went to pet the waiting goat. “Looks like she’s going to be a momma soon.”

“A few more weeks.” Paige’s smile dimmed. “She’s carrying the last of King’s seed. He’s the stud I was looking for when I met Blanche. I never found him.”

“Must have been hard to lose so much at once.” Dunn lowered his head for a moment and then raised it, looking more determined. “So who all do you have helping around here? Maybe they could tell me more about Blanche, and we could get to the bottom of this.”

Thinking back over the last months, she was surprised that no one had been there but Blanche. “I’m sorry.”

“Maybe Jim from the farm store saw her when he dropped off feed or the farrier when he clipped the goats’ hooves last or the vet when you had ‘em wormed?”

She usually did all those things herself. “I’d been hoping to hire someone, but for now it's been just me. That’s why I was so grateful when Blanche offered to cover the morning milking,” Paige said.

Dunn’s brows furrowed. “So you invited her on the premises, and she was still here when you left?”

“In the barn, but never in the house, does that make a difference?”

“It could on the breaking and entering charge.” His face seemed to fall. “Is there a bathroom in the barn?”

“No,” Paige admitted.

“She could use that as a defense for entering the home, and if she’s older, who wouldn’t let her off? Unless she stole something. Let’s see.”

They rushed back to the house, and he took out a handkerchief to turn the knob. His whistle was louder than before. “Ms. Lindon, she did a number on this place."

Paige could feel the color rising in her cheeks. “No, I’ve have a lot of orders lately. It’s been hard to keep up.” She shuffled through the invoices on the couch, counted the tins on the chairs and checked the packaging on the counters to make certain it was all there. “Nothing is missing.”

Dunn was kneeling in front of the kitchen counter and held up a used piece of packing tape. “There were some boxes here recently.”

Paige blinked. He certainly was good at his job, but she had to confess. “I put those in my car just before I discovered Blanche in the closet. It’s why I came home, to get more inventory for my booth at the market, and then I went to update my records and...” She rushed to her computer to check her bank account. It was as abysmal as ever but untouched. “Another dead end.”

“What about the bedrooms?” he asked.

“Bedrooms? There’s nothing of value in there.”

Dunn was already to the hall. “Receipts, credit cards, checkbook. If she’s an identity thief, it wouldn’t take much. And it could be months before they actually move on it.”

“Okay,” she had heard the book fall in the back room. What if it wasn’t the wind? “My room is to the right.”

The deputy had already made a left. “I don’t think this room was touched.”

She rushed to the threshold. Uncle Bill’s bedspread didn’t have a wrinkle on it. She kept it the same way he had while he was alive. The nightstand was dust-free and the rug freshly vacuumed. If the deputy had opened the closet, he would have found it still filled with her uncle’s pressed clothes. Paige shut the door, feeling more alone than before. “That’s not my room.”

They went the other direction and stopped at the entrance. A pile of dirty clothes filled one corner, and her dresser drawers sat askew, but she could tell Dunn’s attention rested entirely on the pitchfork sticking from her mattress like an overgrown lawn dart.

Concern filled his voice, “Did she throw that at you?”

“No,” her cheeks burned. “I threw it.”

“If you caused this woman injury, even if provoked, you could be held liable.”

“She wasn’t in the room at the time. I only thought she was.” Paige marched through the doorway in an attempt to miss the deputy’s disappointed expression. One look at the top of her dresser, and she knew it was exactly as she’d left it.

“Ms. Lindon, I don’t…”

“Wait a second.” Paige didn’t want to hear what he’d say next. She decided to comb the room herself. There had to be some evidence that Blanche was here. That the woman even existed. The bookshelf was a mess, and her chemistry textbook looked to have tumbled on the floor, which reminded her of the open window. Would any fingerprints have been obliterated when she closed it? She turned to ask the deputy but found him staring at her in a way that made her squirm. She wanted to explain how she’d been working every night into the wee hours, how she’d doubled sales while producing everything alone. She was working harder than ever and yet could never catch up, like she was running up a down escalator that kept going faster and faster. But she stopped herself. It would simply make him more certain that she’d lost her mind. Elaine’s taunt about her being a crazy goat lady echoed through her head.

BOOK: He's Got Her Goat
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