Smoke (27 page)

“I don’t think so,” said Immy. She hadn’t actually figured anything out. Had she?

“Who have you told?” Louise walked toward Immy, gun still trained on her torso.

“I haven’t told anyone. Honest.”

“I don’t know if I can believe you. Walk that way.” Louise jerked the gun toward the gate.

Immy walked woodenly out of the pen with Louise close on her heels.

“Keep going.” Louise poked the barrel hard into Immy’s back.

It was harder and harder to breathe. But all her senses went onto high alert. And her mind worked super fast. The culprit was Louise? She killed Sonny? Because she blamed him for her husband’s death?

“Did you take Vern’s stolen drugs from the shelter?” Immy asked.

“Yep, I knew you’d figured out all the details. Vern was sure upset. He didn’t need ’em no more, though. He’d done his dirty work.”

A double negative. This woman was definitely not a librarian.

“And I needed ’em.”

“To drug Sonny. Like Vern drugged Rusty and Poppy. So Vern really killed those two? Not you?”

Louise’s laugh sent icicles shooting through Immy’s veins. “What an idiot! I told him to kill Gretchen’s killer. My poor Amy JoBeth was so damned upset, I wanted to make her feel better. And I loved that pig, too. He’s so stupid he got the wrong person. Tinnie told Amy JoBeth just the other day that Sonny was the one who shot Gretchen. Not that Rusty deserved to live, treating Amy JoBeth’s pig like that, wanting to smoke her, but poor Poppy was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“She saw Vern kill Rusty, you mean.”

Louise nodded. “Don’t stop. Keep going.”

“But you drugged Sonny?”

“Now there’s someone that should have been killed a long time ago. When he and his bank foreclosed on my husband, I should have just shot him. Poor Al committed suicide because of that sidewinder.”

“But you didn’t ever shoot him.”

“I put him in with that bull and poked the damn thing until he trampled that son of a bitch to death.”

“Why did you kill Sonny now? After all this time?”

“Breaking my daughter’s heart was the last straw. I thought Vern had done my work for me when he killed Rusty, but then it turns out it was Sonny that shot Amy JoBeth’s pig. So Sonny had to die. That was the last straw! And Tinnie will be next.”

Immy stopped walking. Evil radiated from this woman in waves.

“Keep walking.” They were headed toward the storm shelter. Was Louise going to lock Immy inside it?

“How did you get Sonny into the bullpen?” Immy asked.

“You’ll find out. I’m a lot stronger than I look.”

It was then that Immy realized they were passing the steps to the shelter and heading for the fence that bordered the property. The fence with the neighboring rancher’s bull on the other side.

Was Louise going to drug her? She’d fight like a bull herself to prevent that.

“Stand right there.” Louise shifted the shotgun to her left hand and reached into the pocket of her jacket with her right. Immy didn’t think her assailant could fire the weapon one-handed, so she ducked and rushed Louise, toppling her to the ground.

But, as Immy fell atop the larger woman, she felt a prick in her thigh.

Louise shoved Immy off her and scrambled to her feet, an evil smile on her face and a syringe in her hand.

The shotgun lay beside Immy. She grabbed for it, but Louise stomped on her hand.

“Ow!” yelled Immy. “You drugged me!” She made another try for the gun but this time Louise smashed her booted foot into Immy’s face, catching her in the mouth. A metal taste sprang to her tongue. Immy spat and, even though it was dark, she knew she had just gotten rid of a mouthful of blood. She curled up in pain. Another blow landed on the back of her head.

Immy rolled away so she wouldn’t get kicked again. She had to get up. She had to get away.

She struggled to her feet, dripping blood from her mouth. She wondered if she’d lost some teeth.

Immy turned and started to run. She made it to the door of her van and yanked it open. Louise was sauntering toward her, working the pump on the shotgun.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“I’m getting out of here.”

“Not in that condition.” Louise was still grinning. Immy wanted to kick her in the mouth.

Immy swayed. She grabbed the door handle. Swayed again.

Tried to lift her foot into the van. It wouldn’t move.

“See? That stuff works fast. Now, get over to that fence.”

Louise poked her in the side with the shotgun barrel. Immy made a grab for it, but missed. The barrel seemed to be out of reach, even though it was touching her.

She stared at the shotgun. The barrel curved and wavered. Louise wavered. There were two Louises. No, three. Immy couldn’t feel her hands. Or her feet.

When Louise pushed with her hand, Immy stumbled forward until she was at the fence.

“Now, upsy-daisy.” Louise used two hands to shove Immy’s slight form up the fence and over the top.

She set the gun down. I need to get the gun.

But Immy was on the other side of the fence. The fence was fifty feet high, at least. Maybe a hundred. How had those women gotten her over it? How many Louises were there?

A snort behind her got her attention.

Louise’s cackle came from miles away. “I’ll be leaving now. Maybe later I’ll discover your body.” Her car made an eerie sound when it started up.

I’m drugged. There’s only one Louise. There’s only one bull.

One bull was a lot, though.

Immy grasped a fence rail and managed to stay upright. A sliver of faint moon showed her the animal.

There’s only one bull.

He was at least twenty feet away. Or was that twenty miles? Could she climb back up the fence? She tried to put a foot on the lowest rail. It wouldn’t go there. She couldn’t feel her foot, couldn’t control it.

One of the many bulls floated off the ground. The moon lowered itself and spun around, generating smaller moons and stardust. Someone started singing. The cows were jumping over the moons. Immy shook her head and concentrated.

The bull walked toward her. She held perfectly still. She had read about attacking bulls in
The Moron’s Compleat Bull and Cattle Handling Guidebook
. She knew she had. What had the book said?

The bull stopped about ten feet from her. He lowered his head and turned sideways to her. He shook his head slowly, side to side.

Right, that’s what the book said. She remembered the illustration. Those were the first signs of threat. Closer to attack, the bull would hunch his shoulders and paw the ground.

Dirt flew from the bull’s hooves.

Now she should...what was it she should do? She closed her eyes to block out the swimming, swirling world of her sight. She pictured the pages of the book.

Don’t turn your back. Move away slowly.

She grabbed the fence and leaned against it. She squeezed her eyes shut, gripped the fence as hard as she could, and summoned every ounce of her strength. Her foot moved. She took a step alongside the rails.

The bull advanced two steps.

She shoved her hands along the fence. Took another step away. Another.

The bull stopped and watched, head still down, the hairs on his back standing up stiff.

Immy swayed. She couldn’t go another step. She knew she had to get farther away, out of his threat zone.

She closed her eyes and grabbed the fence with both hands. Pulled herself along it with hands she couldn’t feel. Hands that must have, surely, belonged to someone else.

Another step. Another.

The bull stopped swaying his head. He snorted. Stood watching her.

She took three more steps. Three more.

The bull lost interest. Turned. Walked to the other side of the pasture.

Immy slumped to the ground and let the world spin all it wanted to.

* * *

Ralph and Hortense were both there. It was a nice dream. Drew stood behind them. But she looked worried. Well, so did Ralph and Hortense.

Voices came to her from the other end of a tunnel. Immy strained to make them out.

Her head started to clear and the sounds formed into words.

“One good thing, if it is ketamine,” said Ralph, “it starts quick, but it goes away quick, too.”

“Immy. Sweetheart. Darling.” Hortense put her large, warm hand on Immy’s forehead, feeling for a fever like she’d done when Immy was a child.

“I’m here, Mother.” The bull. “Where’s the bull?”

“We found you in his pen,” said Ralph.

“Unscathed,” said Hortense. “Except for your inebriated state.”

“More like hallu—hallugen—hallucin—”

“Hallucinatory.” Hortense finished for her.

“Where’s Louise?” asked Immy, slurring slightly.

Ralph gestured to his cop car, sitting next to the van.

“When you didn’t return forthwith, as you’d indicated you would, I telephoned the constabulary and told Ralph where you were.”

“Louise was leaving like a bat out of hell,” said Ralph.

“Language.”

“Sorry, Hortense. She looked guilty, that’s for sure, so I stopped her and she started screaming, trying to hit me.”

“So,” mumbled Immy, “what did you do?”

“I tased her.”

Immy grinned, then grimaced at the pain of her split lip. She ran her tongue around her teeth and they all seemed to be there. She realized she was lying on the ground outside the bull’s fence, near the cars. Tears sprang to her eyes. She wiped her face. She could feel her hands.

“Could someone feed the pigs one more scoop? I only gave them four.”

Chapter 26

Immy and Ralph strolled the dark, moonlit street, heading away from the trailer and toward the park. Immy was hoping for a repeat of the events of a few nights ago, and maybe even further developments. But she knew Ralph wasn’t one to rush things.

“How was work today?” asked Ralph.

Immy gave a contented sigh. “It’s so good to be back in the office. The window in the door is still boarded up, but Mike told me to call a glass company to fix it. It’s kind of dark in there during the day.”

“I’m glad he hired you back.”

“He’s letting me study for my course, but only during my lunch time and breaks.”

“That’s fair.” Ralph stroked her knuckles with his thumb.

“And he gave me the day off for Poppy’s funeral.”

“I saw you talking to Ophelia. She looked ragged at the reception.”

“She’s decided to move away. She doesn’t know where yet, maybe near her brother in Florida, but she did give Drew three pig harnesses.”

“Three?”

“For when Marshmallow changes sizes. I hope he doesn’t get as big as that huge one. Has Louise admitted killing Sonny?” she asked.

“She’s asked for a lawyer. That’s about the same thing.”

“I was hoping she’d sing like a canary.”

“Louise? With her vocal chords? She’d sound more like a screech owl if she sang.”

“I called Mr. Bunyun and he says he remembers, all of a sudden, that Amy JoBeth was in looking at the old family articles, and he thinks she cut them out and took them.”

“Did he say why?” said Ralph.

“No, but Amy JoBeth did when I called her up about it. She wanted to destroy all traces of those articles so her mother wouldn’t ever find them. Louise was getting more irrational every day. Amy JoBeth was afraid that her mother would kill Tinnie if she found out Tinnie was related to Sonny.”

“Because she already hated Sonny so much?”

“Exactly. Totally bonkers. But Amy JoBeth also didn’t want
you
to figure out how the Squire family had underhandedly gotten the Cotter ranchland. She was afraid her mother had killed Rusty and that would lead the cops to her.”

“Not totally bonkers, Immy. Just off the rails of the moral railroad.”

“The Squire deal
was
underhanded. Louise is right about that. But it’s too bad she had to come so unhinged. Louise is the one who took the envelope from my office.”

“How did she get in?”

“With Amy JoBeth’s key. That’s what Amy JoBeth thinks.”

“Have you seen Amy JoBeth in the last couple of days?” Ralph said. “She hasn’t been in to the jail to see her mother even once.”

“The last time I saw her she looked so happy. That guy I saw at the rodeo with her? That’s her ex, Ernie Anderson. He got a promotion to Captain and came here to ask her to remarry him. She told me she’s never speaking to her mother again. Amy JoBeth thinks her mother is part of the reason for her depression. Louise always told her daughter how sick she was and treated Amy JoBeth like an invalid.”

“Louise is sick.”

“Yes. Amy JoBeth is so happy with Ernie, now that her mother’s not around.”

“I wonder if she’s going to move away?” asked Ralph.

“I guess it depends on where Ernie gets stationed next. He’s still in the Army.”

“Maybe someone will buy Amy’s Swine.”

“And Jerry’s Jerky,” said Immy. “I hope someone buys that, too, so it’ll keep going.”

“Yeah. I guess Tinnie’s moving to be near her mother in Fort Worth.”

“Drew will miss Zack.”

They had reached the park. A necking couple occupied one of the picnic tables, so they walked to the benches near the woods at the edge of the playground. The moon was playing peek-a-boo with the soft, high clouds. A breeze stirred the leaves behind them. Katydids sang so loud their chirps echoed off the live oaks.

Immy and Ralph, oblivious to all of it, got down to business.

THE END

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Kaye George is a twice-Agatha-nominated novelist and short story writer. She belongs to Sisters in Crime and Guppies. Her stories have been published both online and in print magazines and articles appear in random newsletters and booklets. She blogs often for two group blogs and one solo one. She and her husband live near Waco, Texas. Visit
http://kayegeorge.com/
for more details.