Ten

The clouds overhead showed breaks where the sun might eventually peek through. Zoe stuffed her hands deep in her Carhartt coat’s pockets, fingering the apples hidden there, and gazed up at the blue tarp covering a large expanse of her barn roof. According to the weather forecast, the weekend looked rain-free followed by plunging temperatures and the possibility of frozen precipitation on Monday. A brief window of opportunity to get up there and put down the tar paper she had stored inside.

Four horses—her gelding Windstar, Patsy’s Arabian mare Jazzel, and her boarders Duchess and Gypsy—stood at the fence behind the barn, nickering impatiently for their breakfast. Duchess, a chunky sorrel and notorious digger, pawed vigorously at the ground as if that might speed up the feeding process.

Zoe waded through the rainy spring slop to the barn door, but as she reached for it, the morning stillness gave way to the hum of an approaching vehicle. With passing traffic a rarity out here, she looked toward the road. The hum grew into a growl. A moment later, a dark sedan rumbled into view. It slowed and turned into her lane. She had a pretty good idea who was behind the wheel, confirmed when the car stopped next to her truck and Wayne stepped out.

“I thought I might find you here.”

She crossed her arms. “I’m here every morning and evening to feed the horses. What’s up?”

“I’m on my way to Dillard to talk to Pete.”

Her pulse kicked up a notch. “Did you learn something?”

Wayne picked his way through the mud toward her. “Not really. I talked to Robert Welsh again. According to him, Daryl Oliverio should be next in line for sainthood and John Kinney was a bastard.”

“What about the aide who sent Oliverio out for some air?”

Wayne grunted. “I talked to him too. He said he didn’t file a report because Oliverio was a good guy who was just protecting his grandmother. He didn’t want to get him in trouble over a one-time incident.”

“So, we have nothing?”

“As soon as I get back to Brunswick, I plan to drop by Golden Oaks to have a little chat with Mr. Oliverio. He’s supposed to be back on the schedule this morning.”

From behind the barn, Duchess the Digger had moved to the door and started pawing at it with a demanding thud thud thud. “Quit!” Zoe yelled in her deep I-mean-business voice.

Wayne snapped to attention. “Yes, ma’am.”

She shot a look at him. “Don’t mess with me, Detective. I can kick a thousand-pound horse’s ass.”

He chuckled. “Believe me. I do not want to be on your bad side. Anyhow, this afternoon, I’m gonna spend some more time viewing the security footage. Wanna join me? I’ll bring popcorn.”

More mind-numbing hours of watching people walk back and forth through Golden Oaks’ hallways? “Uh. Thanks, but no thanks. I have plans.”

The detective shook his head in exaggerated disappointment. “Suit yourself.” He looked past her at the barn, his gaze lifting toward the roof. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”

Wayne Baronick. Always the smart ass. “Thanks,” she said sarcastically. “I thought the tarp added some much-needed color.”

“True. Then again, most people would have accomplished the same thing with some paint on the barn itself.” He did a slow pivot, taking in the house and the crumbling outbuildings. “Didn’t you say your mother gave you this place?”

“Quite the gift, huh?” Especially since deeding the farm to Zoe was Kimberly’s idea of making amends. “At least she paid to have the new fence installed.” Although Zoe still wasn’t sure if the money had been a gift to her or to her cousin Patsy.

“Uh-huh.” He sounded unconvinced. “Maybe she should’ve paid to have a security system installed.”

Referring, no doubt, to his previous visits in his professional capacity—a dead body in the barn and, more recently, stolen merchandise stashed in the house. The isolation could be construed as peaceful, but was also unnerving. She had to admit, leaving the horses unattended out here concerned her. “I’ll mention it next time I talk to her.”

The banging on the far side of the barn started again.

“I should let you feed them before they tear the place down,” Wayne said. “The popcorn offer stands if you change your mind.”

“Thanks.” Although she hoped he didn’t plan to wait for her.

He turned toward his car, paused, and turned back. “By the way, how’s Franklin Marshall doing?”

“I don’t know,” she said. But she intended to find out. “Those plans I mentioned? Visiting him at the hospital is one of them.”

  

Pete had seen his share of citizens with their lives in danger. Professor O’Keefe looked nothing like any of them. He’d reclaimed his umbrella from his wife, although it was currently closed, and he gripped it as if afraid Pete might again take it from him. Otherwise, O’Keefe waited in the same spot and wore the same raincoat despite the clearing sky. He also wore the same sour expression.

Pete climbed out of his SUV. “What seems to be the problem, Professor?”

O’Keefe’s gaze flitted from Pete to Abby, whom he assessed with a sneer before lifting his chin in Pete’s direction. “That homicidal Neanderthal next door has threatened my life.”

“How so?” Pete asked.

The professor’s gaze was back on Abby. “And who are you?”

“I’m Officer Baronick, Mr. O’Keefe. Pleased to meet you.”

He sniffed. “It’s Professor O’Keefe.” His mouth drawn into a smirk, he took in her attire from her boots to her hat. Tipping his head toward Pete, he told her, “You don’t match.”

Pete wasn’t about to explain the departmental differences in uniforms. Or why she wore one from Marsdale. “How did Mr. Anderson threaten your life, Professor?”

He shot a look over his shoulder, as if expecting his machete-wielding neighbor to charge around the corner of the garage. “He’s been out in his pasture on his tractor. And he keeps looking over here.”

“Has he approached you?”

“Well. No.”

“Has he called you? Spoken to you?”

“No, but I can tell he wants to kill me.”

Pete glanced at his new officer, glad to see she wasn’t laughing. Hell, she hadn’t so much as cracked a smile. “Professor, you need to give me more to go on,” he said. “If I arrest everyone who looks at you—”

O’Keefe waved the umbrella as if it was a magic wand and could make the situation disappear. “All right, all right. I do believe he’d kill me given his druthers, but he hasn’t done anything improper recently.”

“Then why did you call us?”

“Because you need to investigate the man. There’s most definitely something…” O’Keefe searched for the proper word. “…criminal about him.”

Pete removed his ball cap and ran a hand through his hair. “I realize he frightens you—”

The professor’s chest puffed. “He most certainly does not.”

“Let me rephrase. He gives you cause for concern.”

O’Keefe apparently didn’t recognize the sarcasm in Pete’s voice. He gave a satisfied nod. “Yes. He does. Great concern.”

“But I can’t lock him up for running his tractor on his property. I can’t even lock him up for giving you dirty looks.”

The professor took a step toward Pete, lifting both hands. The one without the umbrella opened, palm up, beseeching. “Please. If you can’t arrest him, I implore you to look into his past. He’s a dangerous man. I have a sixth sense about this.” He looked at Abby and then back to Pete. “And there’s something else. The man is besotted with my wife.”

“Besotted?”

“Yes. He finds her…alluring. She’s totally unaware and doesn’t reciprocate the feelings of course.”

“Of course,” Abby said, her tone serious. Too serious.

Pete looked at her. She glanced back at him and shrugged. For the first time, he spotted a chink in her uber-professional armor. He rubbed his upper lip to hide a grin. Yep. Abby Baronick was going to work out just fine. “You want me to arrest your neighbor because he’s attracted to your wife?”

O’Keefe’s face darkened. “You find me amusing.” His voice lowered to a growl. “I want you to do your job and investigate a dangerous man with an unhealthy interest in my wife. Is that asking too much?”

Pete tugged his hat back on. “No, sir. I don’t suppose it is.”

  

Zoe found Franklin shuffling down the hospital corridor toward her, wheeling an IV pole at his side. She stopped and waited. “It’s good to see you up and around.”

He grunted. “They darned well better let me out of here tomorrow or I’m going to tie bed sheets together and climb out the window.”

“Is that what they’re telling you? Tomorrow?”

His color was still off, and he definitely wasn’t his usual energetic self. “They’ve been telling me ‘tomorrow’ for two days now.” He stood a little taller, stretching his back. “Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,” he said in a Shakespearian stage voice.

“Don’t rush it, Macbeth. You don’t want to have to come right back here if you leave too soon.”

“Bah. I just need a good night’s sleep. Which, by the way, is something you cannot get in a hospital.” He maneuvered an awkward turn with his IV pole and motioned for Zoe to follow. “Walk with me.”

She sneaked a glance at the bag of fluids as she strolled beside him. Half normal saline. Not what she’d expected. “Have they given you any kind of explanation for what’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to talk about my problems. I want to know about my office. What’s going on?”

As they continued toward Franklin’s room, Zoe told him about Baseball Cap Man on the security camera and the employee with anger management issues. Franklin stopped at his door. “Good. But this isn’t the only case you have to deal with.”

She blinked. “What do you mean?”

Gripping the IV pole he faced her. “I put you in charge of my office, not just this one case. Paulette informs me you haven’t stopped by to fill out any of the reports. There’s paperwork waiting for you, Young Lady.”

Reports? Paperwork? She’d been so focused on Kinney’s death—and on her brother—she hadn’t even thought of the boring stuff.

“Paulette can answer any questions. She’s in the office right now. Once you’ve filled everything out, bring the reports back here, and I’ll sign them.” Franklin teetered into his room and took a seat on the edge of the bed, struggling to keep from getting tangled in the IV tubing. Once settled, he looked at Zoe. “Well? Get moving.”

She studied him for a moment, wondering how long before he could reclaim his duties. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

As she walked away, his voice trailed after her. “Don’t rush. I want the paperwork done right.”

Paperwork. Terrific.

Suddenly, the stench of autopsy didn’t seem so bad.

* * *

  

A familiar dark sedan sat in front of the Vance Township Police Department when Pete and Abby returned from speaking with Professor O’Keefe. Pete glanced at his new officer’s profile. From the set of her jaw, he surmised she recognized her brother’s unmarked car.

This should be interesting.

Baronick leaned on the front counter chatting with Nancy and looked up when they entered. “Hey, Chief.” He nodded to his sister. “Officer.”

Pete removed his hat. “I don’t suppose introductions are necessary.”

Abby glared at her brother. “What are you doing here?”

Baronick ignored her. “I wanted to update you on the Kinney investigation,” he said to Pete.

He noticed Nancy eyeing the three of them, her fingers touching her lips barely covering an amused grin. “Go on back to my office, Detective. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Yes, sir.”

Sir?

Baronick nodded politely to his sister. For a moment, Pete thought Abby might stick her tongue out at her brother, but she settled on a look Pete had seen on Nadine’s face more than a few times.

Once the detective had disappeared down the hall, Pete turned to Nancy. “Get our new officer set up with a badge, uniform, and gear. And don’t forget the W-4s and whatever forms need to be filled out.”

Nancy stood and winked at Abby. “Glad to have you aboard. We’re way past due for some female energy on this force.”

Alone in the station’s entry vestibule, Pete faced his new officer. “Once Nancy takes care of you, go home.”

“But I thought I’d finish the shift here.”

“You just came off one shift at Marsdale. I want you rested for tomorrow and the weekend.”

“Yes, sir.” She gazed down the hallway where her brother had gone, and Pete expected her to ask about him. Instead she said, “That professor. Is he…?”

“An asshole?”

She snickered. “I was going to ask if he’s for real, but okay. We’ll go with asshole.”

“The jury’s still out. I’ll look into the neighbor’s background and then let you know.”

“You’re really going to do that? Just because the professor thinks the man is attracted to his wife?”

“No. I’m going to do a little digging because the neighbor did attack him with a machete a few days ago.”

Abby appeared thoughtful. “I guess it would be irresponsible not to. I mean, if we ignore the professor’s complaint and then something did happen…”

“That’s right,” Pete said. He held out a hand to her. “Eight o’clock tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

She clasped it, her grip firm. “I won’t. Thank you, Chief.”

Leaving Abby with Nancy, Pete found Baronick, his feet propped on Pete’s desk, his typical grin on his face. Pete shut the door, swiped the detective’s size twelves to the floor, and slid into his chair. “Checking up on your sister?”

“No. Actually, I was surprised to see her car parked out front. You didn’t waste any time hiring her.” He winked. “My recommendation must carry a lot of weight.”

“Her résumé was impressive. I hired her in spite of her pedigree.”

Baronick chuckled then grew serious. “She’s a good cop.” He shook a finger at Pete. “Don’t ever tell her I told you that.”

Pete shuffled through a stack of reports in front of him. “What’s the update on Kinney’s homicide? Have you IDed the guy in the ball cap?”

“Not yet.”

“You drove out here to tell me you have nothing.”

“I drove out here to tell our acting coroner and you that I have nothing.”

“Zoe?”

“I stopped out at her farm on my way here. She hasn’t gotten much done out there, has she?”

“I replaced some boards on the porch so she wouldn’t fall through. Dug up the water pipes to the barn and put in two frost-free hydrants so the horses can get a drink. And we had an electrician run power to the barn so she has lights. But the whole house needs to be rewired.” And that was just for starters.

“I hate to say this, but the place is a dump.”

Pete couldn’t argue. But Zoe insisted she needed a place for her horse. Good ol’ Kimberly to the rescue. Some day he and Zoe’s mother were going to have a long talk.