Bring Home the Murder (8 page)

 

Chapter 13

M
eggie liked Mondays and looked forward to what the week had in store for her. She stuffed the paper bills deep in one pocket, a plastic shopping bag in the other and set a sun visor on top of her head. She pulled the front door closed behind her and started down the driveway. If she hurried she could get a walk in, stop by the neighbor's vegetable stand and return to the farm all before Shirley arrived.

At home she preferred to walk early in the morning when the neighborhood hadn't fully awakened. She loved to hear the birds chirp, feel the cool air on her face and smell the freshness of nature.

Since coming to the farm she never walked in the morning or any other time of the day. Once she finished taking care of the animals, the house and the yard, she had no ambition left to walk.

This morning Meggie lacked her usual amount of energy. She had trouble falling asleep the night before, unable to put thoughts of the intruder, letters, and ghosts to rest. Her mind had churned with visions. When she finally fell asleep the visions turned to dreams.

At the end of the driveway she turned right and quickened her pace. If she remembered correctly, the vegetable stand was located about a half mile down the road. She reminded herself to buy a small amount of vegetables since they would weigh her down on the walk home.

A tractor rumbled towards her from the opposite direction. As the farm vehicle neared, the roar grew louder and dust mushroomed over the road. The driver raised his hand in greeting.

Meggie moved to the side of the road and fanned her face as the old farm machinery rolled by. It looked like the same tractor she had seen parked in Donna's yard on occasion. The driver could be her grandson. Donna mentioned he helped his father with farm work on his days off. She wondered if he still considered Darrell a friend.

Later that morning she heard a car drive into the yard. She set the filled water bottles on the table and went to answer the door. Before she could open it, Shirley barged through. Meggie took one look at her and started to laugh.

“What's so funny?” Shirley straightened her back and threw her hand on her hip.

“I'm sorry, but it's your hat.” Meggie wiped a tear from her eye.

Shirley twisted her sombrero and narrowed her eyes. “You told me to wear a hat, and this sombrero happens to be the only one I could find.” Her face fell. “It brings back memories of the trip Bill and I took to Mexico. Don't make fun.”

Meggie apologized and assured her the hat would do just fine. She took a quick look at her friend's footware and signaled a thumb's up sign. “Good choice on the hiking boots. It's important to have a sturdy pair of boots or shoes for the stirrups. By the way, did you remember the information for Audrey's surprise party?”

“I have it all right here.” Shirley tapped the side of her shoulder bag. “I assume I'm staying in the upstairs suite tonight?” She started toward the staircase and remarked over her shoulder. “I'm glad you agreed to work with me on plans for Audrey's birthday party. She's going to be so surprised.”

A few minutes later Shirley sat at the kitchen table and waited for Meggie. When her friend walked out of the bedroom sporting a dark-brown cowboy hat and matching leather boots, she stood and checked out her friend's ensemble. “Did you ever talk Walter into buying a pair of cowboy boots?”

Meggie shook her head.

Shirley followed her out the back door. “I thought as much. Obviously, he hasn't changed his mind about riding the range with you. But you never know, he might have a change of heart.”

Meggie strode towards the barn and tried to ignore her friend's badgering. She had grown accustomed to it after all these years, but some days she just wasn't in the mood.

Shirley hurried to keep pace with her. “I mean, get real, Meggie. After that last housesitting adventure of yours who can blame him? I'm surprised he lets you out of the house. Face it, you almost got us—”

Meggie stopped and crossed her arms. She noticed the sombrero had taken a dive over her friend's eyes and reached out to push it up. “How many times am I going to hear about the last adventure? And the adventure before that? And before that?” She lifted her eyebrows, pressed her lips together and resumed her stride. “I don't need to be reminded all the time about our past exploits.”

“You don't have to be so testy,” Shirley called after her. “I was just saying. Bulldog hit the nail on the head when he said you were sensitive.”

Meggie swung the barn door open and motioned her friend to go ahead of her into the dim interior. Once inside Shirley hung back and waited for Meggie to lead the way to the horse stalls.

“There sure aren't many windows in this humongous building.” Shirley's eyes gave the barn a once over.

“You're right. I haven't figured out why, but there must be a reason for it. Four windows don't allow much natural light inside.”

At the stall Meggie stroked Black's forehead then buried her face in his long neck and took a deep breath. “I love the smell of horses.”

Shirley crossed her arms and sniffed. “I don't know about horse smells, but something reeks.”

Shirley walked over to Beauty's stall and timidly reached for the mare's forehead. She rubbed it and eyed the barrel of the horse. “Let's hope those yoga stretches you talked me into doing work or I'll be walking around bowlegged.”

Meggie laughed and waited for Shirley to familiarize herself with Beauty. She showed Shirley the proper way to curry comb and brush a horse. After they finished grooming the animals, Meggie bridled and saddled them the way Molly had instructed.

She checked each cinch a second time to make sure the saddles were tight enough and led the horses out of the barn. She handed the mare's reins to Shirley and tied Black to the fence.

A large wooden platform stood near the barn door. Meggie instructed Shirley to stand on top of it. “It'll be easier to get into the saddle. Just put your left foot in the stirrup and throw your right leg over the saddle.”

After several tries, Shirley managed to mount the horse and wiggled into a comfortable position. A cheesy grin spread across her face. “So far so good. But what do you say we don't run the horses? I don't think I'm ready for that.” She bent low, patted Beauty's neck and waited for Meggie to adjust the stirrups.

Meggie untied Black and opened the gate. She mounted the stallion and shook the reins. “Giddy up.”

The leather saddle creaked as Meggie rocked slowly back and forth over the horse's hips. She glanced over her shoulder to check on her friend. Beauty hadn't moved away from the wooden platform.

“You need to give her more rein,” Meggie called and lifted her arms to demonstrate.

Shirley took her advice and flicked the reins. Beauty pranced ahead and almost collided with Black.

“Whoa!” Shirley pulled back on the reins and brought the mare to a standstill. Her face lit up. “She obeyed me. I think I'm going to get the hang of horseback riding.”

When Meggie suggested she ride Beauty up next to Black so the horses could walk side by side, Shirley jiggled the reins and urged her mount to move a little faster. Soon the two horses and their riders were traversing across the meadow.

 

Chapter 14

T
he sun beat down from a big blue sky. An osprey glided overhead. The horses plodded on and left the meadow behind. From somewhere nearby the familiar cry of a killdeer rent the air. Meggie pointed the bird out, related how they made their nests on the ground and oftentimes faked a broken wing to distract predators.

Soon open spaces gave way to wooded areas. Birch leaves rustled in the warm summer breeze and a woodsy pine perfume floated through the air.

The gurgling brook caught the rider's attention, and they coaxed their horses to the edge of its bank. A rabbit peered at them from the other side of the brook. The furry creature studied the horses and riders but soon lost interest. It hopped one way, then the other and finally sprang off into the woods.

They lingered until the horses grew restless. Insects attacked in droves. The stallion shook his head and swished his tail in an attempt to ward off the bloodsucking flies. Beauty became more agitated than Black. She flung her head up and down and lifted her back leg to brush off the pests.

“I think it's time to leave,” Shirley remarked. “These deer flies must take steroids. They're big enough to pick me up and carry me away.”

“I'm with you. What do you say we climb the hill?” Meggie laughed. “For old time's sake.”

Shirley agreed to the suggestion and let Beauty follow Black's lead.

At the base of the hill Meggie leaned forward and grabbed the saddle horn. She moved in rhythm with the stallion. When they reached the crest, Meggie looked out across the property and listened to the clip clop of Beauty's hooves behind her. “We couldn't see much the other night. It's serene, isn't it?”

“I think we saw more than we expected or wanted to.” Shirley lifted the brim of her sombrero. “You're right. It is serene.”

“Make sure you don't hurry down the hill,” Meggie advised when they were ready to leave. “The horses have to take it slow.” She loosened the reins, leaned back in the saddle and urged Black on. The horse chose his footing carefully and soon reached the bottom of the hill.

Shirley rode up next to Meggie. She tipped the brim of her sombrero up and wiped the perspiration from her neck. “Where are we headed Kemosahbee?”

“I thought it might be fun to ride all the way to the back gate. It's a beautiful day to enjoy nature by horseback.” She felt somewhat guilty for not disclosing the entire reason she wanted to ride to the back pasture line. But after her friend's earlier accusations and insinuations, she thought better of it. The less her friend knew the better off she would be.

“The back gate, huh? I get the feeling you're holding something back from me. Are we on a scouting expedition?”

Meggie laughed. “Why would you think that?”

“I know when you're hiding something up your sleeve. And you know I don't like to be kept in the dark. If you want to play detective just say so.” She set her jaw and thrust out her chest. “It's rather rude to invite me on a horseback ride to enjoy nature, blah, blah, blah, when you have an ulterior motive.”

“Hear me out,” Meggie spoke up. “We both wanted to enjoy nature by horseback. You said as much to me the other day. I just thought that as long as we were out riding . . .”

Shirley rolled her eyes. “I knew it. I should have known better. Give it to me straight. What are you up to now?”

“It's a long story. What do you say we find a shady spot and take a rest? Then I'll fill you in.” She pointed toward a large grove of trees. “How about over there?”

Once she reached the spot, Meggie dismounted Black under the shade of a poplar tree and wrapped the reins around its trunk. She removed her hat and wiped the sweat off her forehead then sat down on the log to wait for Shirley. She pushed the heel of her boot against the ground and thought about what she would tell her friend.

“You're going to dig yourself a big hole and fall into it if you're not careful.” Shirley plunked down on the log beside her. “Oh, this feels good, doesn't it?” She nudged her friend. “All right, I'm listening.”

Meggie related the conversation she had with Donna regarding Darrell Schmidt. “My neighbor thinks the system released him early. He could be out now.”

“Is it safe to assume you've been doing a little investigative work regarding the bank robbers?”

“Only after I spoke with Donna.”

Shirley frowned and pulled at her ear. “Didn't you mention that a Schmidt lived nearby?”

Meggie nodded and pointed to the right. “Herman Schmidt, his grandfather, lives in that direction. His property borders Riley's land. I put two and two together and came up with . . .”

“Darrell Schmidt buried the loot in the field. We caught him literally digging for gold or the next thing to it. Is that what you came up with?”

“I don't know for sure, but the possibility exists.” Meggie stood up and put her hat on. Her eyes surveyed the area. “We saw him digging right around here, didn't we?”

She walked until she found a fresh mound of dirt, studied it for a minute and called out, “Here it is. I'm not sure what I expected to find, but there's nothing here.” She strode back to the log and sat down. “There's something else I want to tell you.”

Shirley twirled her sombrero and eyed Meggie.

“I told you about the hidden staircase.”

“That's right. You promised to show it to me.”

“Let me tell you about the letters I found the same day.”

By the time Meggie finished her story, Shirley had stopped spinning her sombrero and her face held a blank look. “There's some truth to the rumors about Fred and Amelia. I wonder if her husband knew about their relationship?”

“That, I don't know. Should we saddle up and head in that direction?”

“You're not seriously thinking of checking out his grandfather's house, are you? That's trespassing.”

Meggie shook her head. “No, let's just ride a little farther. I don't want to get involved in anything or snoop around. What's the point?”

“Right, Sherlock.” Shirley groaned. “I've heard that one before.”

Meggie led the way through an open area and into a grove of pine trees. She hadn't gone far when she heard a high-pitched bark. Seconds later a small light-colored puppy shot its head up through the tall grass and yelped again. It came bounding over.

Black fidgeted and backed away from the small creature. “I wonder if he's lost,” Meggie called to Shirley and tried to restrain the horse. “He's a cute little fellow. Looks like a Labrador retriever.”

“If he follows us when we turn around what are we going to do?” Shirley reined Beauty in close to Black.

“I've had second thoughts about going any farther. Let's start for the house and see if he follows us.”

The puppy ran ahead of them. He stopped abruptly and chased his tail in a circle then spied a butterfly on a nearby clover. He ran to the clover, pawed the air and gave chase to the butterfly. Seconds later the puppy dashed past the riders.

“I suppose we better find out who he belongs to. It looks like we might make Mr. Schmidt's acquaintance after all.”

They reversed directions and rode until they came to the back gate, found it open and crossed through. Meggie wrinkled her brow and looked back at the gate. “That isn't good. Black and Beauty could have gotten out.”

“Why is there a gate here?”

“Molly told me that years ago the original owner of the property shared pasture space with the neighbor. I guess some of this fencing has been up for quite some time.” Meggie wondered if Fred had never bothered to take the gate down for other reasons.

Pine needles crunched under the horses' hooves. They zigzagged in order to avoid the trees. When they had gone a short distance Meggie spotted an outbuilding. It looked in dire need of repair. She pointed it out to Shirley then turned in her saddle to make sure the puppy still followed.

They reached the Schmidt yard and several little puppies started to bark from a fenced-in area near the outbuilding. As she pondered how the little fugitive escaped the pen, he came scampering up to Black and wagged his tail.

Meggie climbed out of the saddle. She bundled the puppy in her arms and strode toward the back door to let Mr. Schmidt know the reason for their visit. She glanced around at her surroundings. The house needed a fresh coat of paint. A dilapidated screen lay on the ground under a broken window and several beer bottles lay strewn around an overflowing garbage can.

Meggie knocked on the back door, waited several seconds and knocked again. When she knocked for the third time it became obvious no one was at home. She turned to go when she caught a glimpse of someone inside the house.

The face wasn't distinguishable but the person had shoulder length hair. Meggie recalled her conversation with Donna. Perhaps Darrell had been released from prison. An uneasy feeling settled over her.

“Let's get out of here,” Shirley called from the saddle. There's no one around, and I feel like we're trespassing. Not to mention my rear end is getting sore.”

“Just let me take care of this little fellow.” Meggie carried the puppy to the dog pen. She set him inside and shook her finger at him. “You be a good little puppy now and don't follow us.”

She noticed the latch hung loose on the pen. Lucky the other puppies didn't get out. She looked around for something to brace the door. A shovel lay beside the dog pen. She grabbed the handle and leaned it against the gate.

Meggie mounted Black. As she rode away from the house, she had the uncanny feeling a pair of eyes followed her.

 

 

Back at the farmhouse, Meggie handed Shirley a glass of lemonade and a plate of Double Stuf Oreos, then led the way to the front porch. She set her drink and a plate of ham sandwiches down on the table between the two rocking chairs.

Shirley carefully lowered herself into one of the chairs. After a long drink of lemonade, she helped herself to a ham sandwich and glanced at Meggie. “Are you worried about the person you glimpsed at Herman Schmidt's house?”

Meggie shook her head.

“You're pensive. That indicates there's something you're not telling me.”

“Pensive?” Meggie toyed with her sandwich “That's a new one. Whatever makes you think I'm pensive?”

“Friend, I've known you for a long time.” Shirley raised her eyebrows. “You're afraid to spill your guts about something. You can't fool this old girl.”

“Why would I be afraid to tell you anything?” Meggie laughed and held Shirley's gaze.

“I can think of several reasons.” Shirley tapped the arm of her rocking chair. “Reason number one is your aversion to the words I told you so.” She leaned over, picked up an Oreo and broke it open. “Did you know that Oreos have become one of the best-selling cookies in the United States since they were invented in 1912?” She leaned back in the rocker and licked the frosting off the wafer. “I'm waiting, friend.”

“You'll only gloat if I tell you.”

“I won't gloat.” Shirley leaned closer to Meggie. “At least I'll try not to.”

Meggie wiped her mouth with a napkin and took a drink of lemonade. She set the glass down and picked up a cookie, debating how much she should tell her friend. “There have been some strange happenings since I . . .”

“I knew it.” Shirley slapped her knee. “But you wouldn't listen to me. I warned you.”

“You're gloating,” Meggie warned with a penetrating stare.

“I'm sorry. Tell me. I promise not to interrupt.” She clamped her lips together.

By the time Meggie finished her story, the color had drained from Shirley's face, and she had stopped rocking. “Then it is true? This place is haunted?” Shirley held her hand up. “I know I tried to talk you out of housesitting because Molly believed the house was haunted,” she lowered her eyes and then raised them, “but I didn't really believe it myself.”

“I didn't believe it either,” Meggie's voice rose. “But how do I explain the smell of cigars and men's cologne?” She twisted her hands. “And I haven't told you everything.”

Shirley scooted to the edge of the chair. “After Old Spice and cigar smoke, I can't wait to hear the rest of the story.” She gestured with her hand for Meggie to continue.

“It happened one evening after I watched the sun set.” Meggie glanced toward the weeping willow tree and took a deep breath. “I don't know how long afterward, but the moon had risen. The night was close. No breeze at all. That's why I thought it odd when the branches on the weeping willow tree stirred.”

Meggie gripped the chair's arm and continued. “And before I knew what was happening, the branches parted and a big white horse walked out surrounded by a cloudy haze. The horse stood on its hind legs and pawed at the air, then dropped down on all fours and ran off.”

“A white horse in a cloudy haze? Like the white horse you saw the night we played army?” Shirley bent forward. “It must belong to someone around here. The haze could have been the moon playing tricks on you.”

“I wish it were as simple as that.” Meggie's knee bounced up and down. “No one in the neighborhood owns a white horse. I checked.”

“I'm not following. If Molly and Michael have no white horse and the neighbors have no white horse, where did it come from?”

Meggie hesitated. “Vera told me Fred Jackson owned a big white stallion named Cloud.”

“Oh, my gosh.” Shirley's eyes bulged. “Are we talking horse ghost?”

“Look at the evidence, Watson.”