Til Dirt Do Us Part (A Local Foods Mystery) (24 page)

T
he pigs snuffled at her. Cam felt a warm, moist snout pushing on her calf where her pants leg had hiked up. Her heart beat in her throat. She heaved herself up on her arms. The pigs surrounded her, butting at her and at each other. One tried to lick her nose, where the blood still gushed. She pushed it away. Another bit an exposed section of her forearm. She jerked and screamed as she batted at the pig.

She had to get out of here. She rolled into a sitting position and wiped her eyes with her jacket sleeve. She shoved the closest animal away, glad for the moment it was emaciated and likely weighed half what it should. It circled around and tried to bite the back of her neck. Her nose and forehead throbbed, and she tasted blood. She glanced around. Howard was gone. But he could come back with his rifle any minute. One of the pigs pawed at an object on the ground and bit at it. The roast. Another pig tried to climb over the first. Cam grabbed the bag holding the meat and managed to wrest it away from the animal.

She pushed herself up, wincing at the pain in her ankle. She clutched the bag. The pig she’d shoved was coming in for another bite. She ripped the bag partway open.

She threw it as far in the opposite direction as she could. Most of the pigs ran toward the roast and the scent of fresh meat. She turned her back on them and hobbled to the closest fence post. One pig followed her and nudged her hurt ankle. She yelled and kicked at it. She leaned on the fence post and hefted first one leg and then the other over the fence. The post wobbled but held. The last thing she needed was to collapse the barrier and have the swine chasing her.

She made for the woods. At least there she could lean on trees to help her walk, and they provided some cover if Howard came back. To check on what would have been her mauled and eaten body. Maybe he’d just gone to fetch his rifle. To finish her off. Cam shuddered but hauled herself behind the biggest tree. She drew the phone out of her pocket to call Pete. Or 911. Or anybody who would help her and nab Howard before he hurt anyone else. Thank goodness it hadn’t fallen into the sty.

She stared at the phone. She swore. The battery was dead.

She searched for the path through the woods. She knew it was here somewhere. There. If she remembered correctly, it led all the way back to her farm.

She glanced behind her. No sign of Howard. Yet. She limped toward safety, covered in pig muck, her head feeling like it had exploded, her ankle shooting pains up her calf and shin.

She heard a shot. She felt her existence shrink into a core of icy determination. He would not get her. He would not.

C
am paused on the path. The shot didn’t repeat. She hadn’t been hit. She heard nothing but leaves rustling overhead and her own heart thudding.
Time to get out of here.

The path forked before her. Should she take the shorter branch leading out to the road? No. She didn’t want to be standing alone on a deserted rural byway, looking for a ride, if Howard drove by. But if he came through the woods, if that had been him shooting behind her, she didn’t want him following her on the path to home, either. She took a few steps down the branch toward the road and wrestled off her jacket. She threw it farther down the path as a decoy and hurried back to the trail homeward.

She’d walked as fast as she could for a couple of minutes when a branch cracked behind her. Her heart rate sped up once again. She whirled to see a fisher cat staring at her. It was the size of a small dog but looked like an elongated miniature bear, its black eyes watching her. If it attacked with those sharp teeth and claws, she’d be no better off than with the starving pigs. Trying to keep the animal in sight, she glanced quickly around for a stick to defend herself with. None were at hand. She tried to rip a branch from the nearest tree, but it wouldn’t detach.

The fisher cat took a step toward her and hissed. White claws curved out from the dark fur on its oversize feet.

Cam’s own hands and feet numbed from fear.

It took one more step toward her, then turned and trotted back into the woods.

Cam let out a breath. She hurried toward safety on the overgrown trail with as much speed as she could muster. She tripped on a rock hidden under the leaves and went sprawling, grazing her ear on the nearest sapling as she fell. She rested there for a moment, smelling the earthy must of the ground, feeling the dry maple leaves under her hands, wishing for a soft pillow and a warm blanket. Yeah, and a pain pill. Everything hurt. But it was only getting darker and colder, and she didn’t even have her jacket anymore. She managed to pull herself up and resume hurrying home.

As she did, she reran what had just happened. Howard hadn’t really tried to kill her. If he’d wanted to, he’d have come back and finished her off with a single bullet. So what was that shot in the woods?

After what felt like hours, she emerged at her own back field. A row of Brussels sprouts never looked so welcoming. After she crossed the field, she looked back at the woods. That must have been where Bobby had come out that day. She shook her head and made for the house.

Alexandra and DJ were gone, but Preston greeted her. Cam’s heart sank when she tried the door to the house, which, of course, she’d locked. The key to which was in her truck at Howard’s. She racked her exhausted brain. Did she have a spare key hidden somewhere? A loose window? Preston meowed and reared up to rub his head on her knee. Then she remembered. She’d left a key hanging on a nail in a corner of the barn, in case Alexandra or Lucinda needed to get into the house.

A couple of minutes later Cam and Preston were ensconced inside at last. She flicked on the lights and locked the door. Shivering, she dialed the Westbury police and relayed what had just happened. She tried to keep her voice from shaking and made sure to mention that her keys were in her truck at the Fisher farm. If Howard found her keys and drove over to finish her off, she was in big trouble.

After she hung up, she scrubbed her hands with soap at the kitchen sink and gingerly splashed water on her face and patted it dry. She wasn’t ready to look in a mirror yet. She plugged in her cell phone to access Pete’s number.

The house phone rang as Cam was reaching for it to dial Pete. He was on the other end when she picked up.

“Cam? You’re safe?”

“I almost wasn’t—” When she felt sobs bubbling up, she clamped her hand over her mouth.

“Your truck is at Howard Fisher’s.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’ll tell you. In person. We’ll be over in a few minutes. But don’t let anyone else in. We don’t know where he is.”

“Howard?” Cam’s eyes widened.

“Yes.”

“Are my keys still in my truck?”

“Don’t know yet. Don’t open the door to anyone but me.” He disconnected.

C
am stared at the phone. She shivered. Maybe she wasn’t safe, after all. She checked the door lock and went around closing curtains. She sniffed. And looked at her clothes. She was covered in muck and stank to high heaven.

Hobbling up the stairs, she tore off every bit of clothing and changed into a clean pair of jeans and an old, soft sweatshirt. A shower would have to wait. Grabbing a clean pair of socks, she made it downstairs again as a hammering commenced on the door.

“Cam!”

She listened. It sounded like Pete, so she peered through the curtain next to the door. And opened it.

Pete stood on the porch, with Lucinda on the next step down. Pete’s face registered anguish and exasperation at the same time. Lucinda’s expression turned from worry to horror.

“What happened to you?” She pushed past Pete and laid her hand gently on the side of Cam’s face.

“Howard tried to kill me,” Cam said. “Threw me in with his pigs. I got away, but my phone was dead. I made it home through the woods.”

“In my official capacity as an employee of the state police,” Pete began, “I need to tell you that you never should have gone over there in the first place.”

“Ellie Kosloski had texted me that she thought Vince was in trouble at home! They’re friends from school. That’s why I went. If I saw anything, I was going to call the Westbury police right away, believe me. But once I got there, she texted me that it was a mistake, that he had shown up at her house. And then I was stupid enough to start talking with Howard.”

Pete moved to Cam’s side. “That was unwise, all right. But as Pete, I’m damned glad you’re alive, Cameron Flaherty.” His voice turned husky, and his eyes softened.

Cam looked from him to Lucinda and back. She suddenly felt very wobbly. She put her hand on Pete’s shoulder.

“Can we sit down and talk about this? I’m not quite plowing at full capacity here.” She edged over to the table and sank into a chair. Pete remained standing.

“What did he do to you?” Lucinda knelt in front of Cam.

“He admitted he killed Irene. He said he hadn’t meant to kill her, but she kept taunting him, and he shoved her.”
Like he shoved me.
“He punched me in the nose and threw me into the sty.” Cam wondered if she was about to throw up. She swallowed hard.

“And left you in there like he left her.” Pete leaned on the table and shook his head.

“Right. When I landed in the pen, I turned my ankle. The pigs came after me. It was pretty awful.” An involuntary shudder rippled through her. “But I got away. A fisher cat almost came at me. And then I tripped in the woods, too.”

Lucinda rose and bustled about. Within minutes she had Cam’s ankle elevated and wrapped in a dishcloth holding a bag of frozen peas. She wiped hydrogen peroxide on the bite on Cam’s arm and then applied some antibiotic ointment.

Pete’s cell rang. He walked out of the room, his concerned eyes lingering on Cam before he turned his back. Lucinda brought a bottle of an over-the-counter pain reliever to the table with a glass of water and waited until Cam had downed a couple of pills. She handed Cam a steaming mug.

“What’s this?”

“Warm milk with brandy in it.” Lucinda sniffed and wrinkled her nose. “Your hair stinks. I’ll get something to wipe it off.”

Cam thanked her. She could hear Pete talking in a low voice in the living room. She sniffed the mug. The brandy fumes made her eyes water. She took a cautious sip. The smooth milk and the tang of the liquor warmed her all the way down.

Pete walked back in, holding his phone.

“Sit down.” Cam patted the table. “How did you and Lucinda end up at the Fisher farm?”

Pete sat. “She called me today. I was talking with her when you left your message, in fact.”

Lucinda brought a bowl of water and a couple of towels to the table and spread one towel over Cam’s shoulders. She began wiping Cam’s hair away from her face with a warm, wet washcloth.

“I remembered that time I heard Irene talking to somebody,” Lucinda said. “I finally realized it was Howard’s voice. You know how I said you have to sit with a memory sometimes before it comes clear to you?”

“We put the same pieces together as you must have,” Pete said. “Howard was Irene’s birth son, and she had promised to leave him money. Or he thought so.” He cocked his head. “How did you figure it out?”

“I have a confession to make.” Cam felt sheepish but forged ahead. “I used Lucinda’s key and checked out Irene’s house.”

“I told her I wasn’t having no part of it,” Lucinda said, shaking her head.

“I found her iPad hidden in her books. I was going to hack into it.” At Pete’s look she hurried on. “Don’t worry. I didn’t. It’s in my truck. But what I figured out even before then was the genetic trait she shared with Howard and with Vince. They all have a pinkie finger that bends sideways at the last joint.”

“We’ll have to see what her will actually says, but if he believed she was leaving him money, it would certainly provide him with motive to kill her.” Pete tapped his fingers on the table.

“Somebody had been in her office before me. It’s on the second floor, and there was a ladder leaning against an open window. I wonder if it was Howard. Whoever it was probably didn’t find anything. I looked all over before I discovered her iPad. Which I hope is still in my truck.”

“My people are over there. I’ll get them to check it out.”

“I thought you had a witness who put Bobby at the farm, though.” Cam gazed at Pete. “Wasn’t that why you had him in for questioning?”

Pete nodded, looking abashed. “The witness was Howard. Turns out he wasn’t such a reliable one, after all.”

“And so you both went over to Howard’s after I did.”

“He wasn’t there.” Pete frowned. “Vince said his dad had stormed out right after he got home on his bike. He said Howard grabbed a rifle and drove off in a hurry.”

“I heard a shot as I was trying to get home. I didn’t know if he was coming after me or what. But it was only one shot.”

“I’m glad he didn’t end up here,” Pete said. He covered Cam’s hand with his own.

Lucinda rubbed Cam’s hair with a dry towel. “There. You’ll need to wash it properly, but at least you don’t smell like the barnyard anymore.”

Cam looked up at her. “You were really gentle. Thank you.” She sipped the warm drink. “What time is it, anyway?”

“Time for you to get checked out at the hospital,” Pete said. “Ankle and nose and that bite on your arm.”

“No,” Cam said. “No hospital.”

“You really should be looked at.” He squeezed her hand and leaned toward her, holding her eyes with his.

“Sorry, but no. I hate hospitals, and I’ve already been this week. I’d have to sit in the emergency waiting area for hours. You know how it is. I’ll be fine.” She very gingerly felt her nose. She touched the bridge and wiggled it, which sent a new firework up into her brain, but it felt intact. “I don’t think it’s broken.”

“I’ll get you ice for the nose, too,” Lucinda said.

Pete sighed. “I’m calling a friend, then. He’s a doctor, and he owes me a favor big-time. He’ll come over here and check you out.”

Cam nodded. She sat in silence for a moment, thinking through the events of the past week. She narrowed her eyes at Pete.

“Thoughts?” Pete said.

“Maybe it was Howard who cut my brake lines. He could have done it at the fairgrounds.”

“They didn’t get any usable prints off the truck. We’ll ask him when we find him.” Pete’s cell rang. He pulled his hand away from Cam’s as he checked the display and connected.

“Pappas.” As he listened, he glanced at her. “I see. Secure the scene. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He disconnected and stood. “I have to go.”

“What is it?” Cam asked.

Pete looked from her to Lucinda and back, his face set in a grim mask. “They found Howard. He’s in his truck out at the edge of his property.”

“Are you going to arrest him?” Cam asked.

“It’s a bit late for an arrest. He seems to have taken care of it for us.”

“He turned himself in?” Lucinda asked.

Pete shook his head.

“That shot I heard,” Cam said, eyes wide.

Pete nodded.