Mooved to Murder Read online

  Chapter 5

  On our search for the dog, we had to walk past the barn. I eyed Emma to see if she would have a reaction. Poor girl. What a terrible thing to have discovered a dead body at such a young age.

  As I watched her, the uncomfortable feeling from the dream/nightmare prickled me again. Emma jumped up on a railroad tie that bordered where the hay was kept, her arms flung wide to keep balance, her face shining full of innocence. I realized I’d only been a couple of years older than her when the incident had happened to me.

  I was a survivor of an accident that had been announced in all of the major news stations across the country. For weeks there had been a barrage of reporters, TV cameras, and microphones shoved in my face, as well as magazine interviews.

  And I’d been trying to forget it ever since.

  A cloud passed overhead, covering the sun. I shivered at the sudden temperature drop. Crossing my arms, I tried to pull myself together.

  “Does Jasper come down here often, Emma?” I asked.

  The little girl didn’t answer me. Instead, she ran ahead to the apple trees. Catching a branch in her hand, she swung herself up onto a bigger tree limb. I watched her nervously as she scurried upward, not at all certain that what she was doing was safe.

  I stood underneath the tree and stared up. “Can you climb down from there?”

  As if to scare me more, she casually looped a leg around a thin branch and let go with her hands. “Why?”

  Why? Because you are about to give me a heart attack! I could feel myself frowning like I’d taken a bite from a lime. I tried to remove the pucker off of my lips and respond calmly. “We have to find Jasper. He might be scared.”

  “He’s not,” she said adamantly. She dipped her leg back and then disappeared among the leaves. A few seconds later a small apple bounced near my feet. It had a bite mark in the thin skin, leaving little baby teeth impressions.

  I nudged it with my foot and then faced upward. “Come on, Emma. Get down from there. I’m serious.”

  “I’m just eating some apples.”

  “Yeah, well that one looks pretty green, and those kind can hurt your stomach.”

  “Why don’t you come up here and get me?”

  She was taunting me. “If you don’t get down right now, I’m calling your mother.”

  Well, that threat had power like it was woven with magical words. Grumbling, she shimmied down the trunk.

  Her pockets, however, bulged suspiciously. I made her pull them inside out, and several apples clunked to the ground. Her bottom lip upturned like I’d just given away all her Christmas presents.

  Geez. This pseudo parenting-gig was a lot harder than it looked. Was I ever going to win her over? Kids were such a mystery.

  As if to prove my point, she then scampered ahead like nothing had happened, this time to chase a butterfly. The white insect fluttered inches above the golden grass heads. I soon discovered that walking through knee-high grass wasn’t anything like they show in the movies. On the big screen, it seemed like it was all sweet-smelling and lovely, bobbing with daisies and blue wildflowers.

  Instead I discovered it was itchy. And even worse, suddenly wet.

  “What is that?” I pointed suspiciously to a bubbly patch clinging to one of the grass blades.

  Emma came over to inspect it. “Spit bugs,” she announced.

  My jaw dropped, and I glanced at the woods which now seemed unfathomably far away.

  “Come on, silly. They can’t hurt you.” This time Emma took off like there was someone at the edge of the forest offering her a free ticket to Disneyland.

  Ignoring all else, I chased after her.

  I was halfway across the field, but at that huff-and-puff stage that I blame on dehydration, when I encountered the cloud of gnats. In a million black specks, they rose from the ground as if they shared a brain and zoomed straight for my face. I covered my nose with my shirt. Apparently, they liked what they saw, because no matter what I did, I couldn’t get away from them.

  Why did people live out here, again?

  Just then I skidded in the dirt. Glancing down, I saw there was no mistaking that it was in fact a big cow patty. I almost cried, I really did. Instead, I straightened my spine, scraped my shoe against the grass—noting the spit bugs—and then ran as fast as I could to get out of Dodge.

  By the time I cleared the flies, Emma had ducked under the fence and was about to disappear into the woods. I didn’t have time to freak out. Instead, I ran faster.

  I caught up with her just as she jumped over a fallen tree.

  “You stay with me or there’s no more popsicles ever.” I couldn’t keep using her mom as a threat forever and that was my attempt to come up with another credible one.

  She shrugged, not seeming to be afraid.

  “I mean there will only be cauliflower and meat for meals from now on.”

  She stared at me, wide eyed. “No more Noodle O’s?”

  “Only if you stick close to me,” I warned. I tried to talk slowly like I wasn’t winded from chasing after her.

  That seemed to be an adequate enough threat. She fell in line with my pace. Together, we called for the dog, with me throwing out as much of an enticing tone as I could.

  Nothing. We delved deeper into the forest. I threw an anxious look back but could still see the sun shining brightly through the tree trunks.

  Finally, I heard something. I held up my hand and paused, trying to listen. “You hear that?”

  Her lips puckered, and then she nodded. It was a dog barking.

  “He’s over there,” I said and headed in that direction, circumventing several bushes. Behind them was another fallen tree. I held out my hand to help Emma over. She used the opportunity to walk the length of the trunk. With a satisfied grin, she jumped off and held her hands out like a gymnast.

  “You stuck the landing!” I grinned back. Her hair was a frazzled bird’s nest. With the way our morning had started, I’d forgotten to brush it. And with those mud splotches and stained lips, she looked like a hot mess. Still completely adorable.

  “What’s that mean?”

  “It’s what gymnasts do when they land perfectly.”

  “Huh.” She wasn’t impressed. “Jasper!”

  The dog answered back with excited yips but didn’t seem to be coming toward us. Was he stuck on something?

  “Do you and your mom come back here often?” I asked, slightly creeped out by how thickly the trees had closed in around us. I glanced behind and could still make out the light.

  “We’ve never been here before.”

  I swallowed hard and gripped the pepper spray. What if we were about to stumble onto a bear? It was one thing for me to be here alone, but to bring a child?

  I fumbled out my phone and gave it to her. “You know how to call 911?” I asked.

  She nodded solemnly.

  “If trouble should happen, I want you to run that way and call 911, got it? Don’t worry about me.” It was the best I could do. I hoped I wasn’t making this kid paranoid for life, especially after the events of the morning.

  “Got it,” she whispered.

  “Stay behind me,” I said and moved forward.

  The dog’s barking was sharp and bold now. I expected at any moment to see the shaggy animal. We rounded the last clump of bushes and came into a grove of baby trees.

  Sitting in the middle of the copse was the dog. He sat, tongue lolling out, looking as pleased as punch that we’d played his game.

  “Jasper! Get over here!” I said, patting my leg. I grabbed my forehead when I realized I hadn’t brought a leash.

  True to his nature, instead of coming, he turned and bounded away.

  “Is Jasper even his name?” I asked crossly.

  “That’s his name alright. Of course, Mom calls him some other ones.”

  “Like what?” I asked hopefully.

  “Like floppy-eared turd-basket,” she said with a nod. “She did that the one time when he wa
s running away with her car keys. He likes to play tag.”

  I closed my eyes and whimpered. We could be here all night.

  The dog barked again, teasingly. We followed after him, weaving around the slender trunks of the new trees.

  This time the dog stayed as we approached. I froze in surprise. Not because the dog waited for us, but that he sat next to an old car. And by old, I mean one of the trees was growing right through the front seat.

  “Oh, Chelsea! Look at this!” Emma squealed as she ran over to her dog.

  I followed after her.

  She hugged the dog and grinned like she’d found treasure. “Can we keep it?”

  My gaze jumped between her and the interior of the car. Cautiously, I stooped to peer inside the vehicle.

  The glove box was open. Spilling out from the inside and piling all over the bench seat was stacks of wet bundled money.

  More money than I’d ever seen in my lifetime.

  Chapter 6

  “Emma, let me see my phone.” I reached out my hand. I needed to call the police. I mean, it’s not every day you see rotting bills lying everywhere.

  She skipped over, one of her shoes dragging untied shoelaces through the dirt.

  I took it and scrolled for Officer Kennedy and then hit send. As the phone rang, I walked around the car. The back symbol said it was a Pontiac. It was old, and the paint faded, but I saw enough to think that it was originally a grayish blue. There were no license plates.

  “Officer Kennedy,” she answered, her voice crisp.

  “Hi. This is Chelsea. Hey, I was wandering in the woods looking for our dog, and I came across an abandoned car.”

  “Yeah?” Her voice rose with interest.

  “Yeah. It looks like it’s been here for ages.”

  “Oh.” Disappointment made her voice plummet. “I can send someone out, but this is no priority.”

  “The thing is, there are piles of money all over the front seat.”

  “Yeah?” Up went the tone again, just like some crazy yo-yo. “I’ll be right over. Meet me at your driveway.”

  We hung up, and I stared at the dog, trying to think of how to get him back home. Finally, I yanked my shirt over my head—making Emma giggle—and tied the arm through the collar of the dog to use as a leash. I wasn’t taking any chances with Jasper disappearing again.

  We headed home. Twenty minutes later, I met Officer Kennedy in the driveway, and the three of us, including Emma, headed back out across the field one more time. Poor Jasper barked at the window, heartbroken that we’d left him.

  “Watch for the cow patties,” I warned, keeping a sharp eye out myself.

  Officer Kennedy ignored that and instead casually said, “Keep it on the down low, but preliminary blood levels show Clint most likely died of some type of tranquilizer drug overdose.”

  I frowned, glancing at Emma. I didn’t want her to hear.

  I needn’t have worried. The little girl was singing and picking the last few dandelions that had braved the colder weather. I thought she was being sweet until I heard the words of the song.

  In her tiny voice, “Mommy had a baby, and its head popped off.” With a flick of her thumb, the flower head went flying.

  I grimaced and turned back to the police officer. “Okay. So an overdose,” I said.

  She walked through the wet grass without even a glance at the ground. “Well, I’m telling you this because the levels were high. Too high.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked, even more confused. Obviously they were high. The man was dead.

  “It means the toxicity was above what any normal person could administer to themselves before they passed out.” Her gaze flicked toward me, and she sighed like she was disappointed I was so dense. “It means someone had to have killed him. And I’m letting you know since it happened so close to your house. Be on guard.”

  Geez! “Do you think it’s safe to stay here?”

  “I can’t tell you that. But, in my opinion, I think the attack was specific to Clint. It’s up to you though. I’ll have an officer drive by a few times at night.”

  I nodded. How could I leave? There were all these animals to take care of. I had to do what I said I would do. Tilly depended on me.

  We’d reached the woods by then and carefully picked our way over the fallen trees and through the saplings. She sucked in a breath when she saw the car, and I was oddly please to have finally caused her an emotional reaction. Emma ran forward to reach for one of the bills that had made its fluttery way onto a branch.

  “No! Stop!” Officer Kennedy commanded. “Now!”

  Emma froze, startled at the sharp voice. Her eyes puddled, and she glanced at me.

  “Come here, sweetheart. It’s okay,” I said, reaching out a hand. And then quieter, to the officer. “She’s been through a lot today, and her mom isn’t around.”

  Officer Kennedy pulled the camera up from around her neck and began taking pictures. “You two take any of this money?”

  “Are you kidding me? Of course not!” I huffed. Emma squeezed my hand.

  “Don’t be so touchy. No offense intended. I just wanted to know if the scene had been disturbed. Two new mysteries in one day. You’re good for job security.” She removed her flashlight from her belt and used it to peer inside the car. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling and the windshield was nearly obscured with algae scum.

  “Huh.” She walked behind the car and continued another fifty feet or so. “There’s an old road back here. Must be how the vehicle got in.”

  I followed after her. What she called a road was overgrown with more saplings and blackberries. I glanced at her questioningly.

  “Look up there.” She pointed to the tops of the trees. When I glanced in that direction, a path through the tree branches was visible where they gapped.

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Looks like this road has been abandoned for at least twenty years or more.”

  I nodded, but Officer Kennedy wasn’t paying me any attention. “You two head back to the house. I’ve got this covered. I’ll probably see if the officers can get down this old road.” Before I could respond, she was talking on her mic.

  Suitably dismissed, Emma and I walked back home. The little girl tried to break away from me once, but I firmly hung on to her hand.

  She was sneaky though. At first she seemed resigned, but as soon as my attention was distracted by a fallen tree, she jerked away. Dang, that kid’s hand was sweaty. “Emma!” I called.

  The little girl ran through the trees.

  With everything going on, I didn’t want her out of my sight. I ran until I caught up with her and then scooped her in my arms. “Where do you think you’re going, you little monkey?”

  She dissolved into giggles, as I carried her a few more feet. At the fallen trees, I set her down and reached for her hand again. “When I tell you to stay with me, you have to stay. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

  Her eyes were wide as she looked up. “Okay, Chelsea. I’m sorry.”

  We headed back to the house where I had to give Jasper a treat to earn his forgiveness. I had no idea if I should let him outside again. What if he found his way back to the Pontiac and ran off with the police?

  I was pondering that when Emma chimed in. “Momma uses the dog run sometimes, especially when we have new piglets. Jasper goes crazy for those pigs, and she’s afraid the momma pig will squash him like a tater tot.”

  “Where’s the dog run?”

  She showed me, and I led Jasper there. Then I decided to do my outdoor chores. I changed the straw in the cow’s stall and then filled her bin with fresh hay. There wasn’t much feed left. Tilly had mentioned there would be a delivery this week, and we sure needed it. She left the number. I had to call them.

  I filled the water pan for the goats. It took several trips. Wow. Tilly did this all by herself and then worked a full-time job? I had no idea how. I was already exhausted.

  When the animals were situated, I h
eaded back inside, grimy and covered with dirt and hayseed. I need to get dinner started. I was starving and poor Emma had only had ice cream and some toast. I was having a heck of a time juggling everything.

  As I washed my hands, Emma began setting the table. I rummaged through the freezer for a pizza and found a box. Quickly, I opened it and threw it in the oven. It was a gas range, and I wasn’t sure exactly how to use it.

  I stared at the dials. “Stand back!” I told Emma.

  She scooted to the doorway with a giggle. “You are funny. Freckles thinks so, too.”

  Yeah, well I might be sending Freckles sky high along with everything else in the house if this went wrong. I turned the temperature on and pressed start, my every muscle tensed to spring away.

  What really happened was the click of the igniter scared me so badly my legs almost gave way.

  I whirled around to Emma. “Was that sound normal?”

  “Uh huh. The burners make the same sound.”

  Okay. Everything was working like it was supposed to. I cautious moved away, after another suspicious stare. Then I turned my attention to Emma.

  She smiled like a muddy little scarecrow, polka-dotted and red-stained popsicle lips.

  “You need to get in the bath, little miss,” I said.

  “Momma says I only take one bath a week.”

  I frowned. “Well you have mud all over yourself, and tomorrow is school.”

  “I have eczema and baths make it worse.” She crossed her arms, tit for tat.

  The thing was, she had me. Could it be true? Maybe? Tilly hadn’t mentioned anything about eczema, but then again, she hadn’t mentioned that her cow liked to charge people and kick at them. “At least go wash the mud off your face. But be careful with the stings.”

  A cop car drove into the driveway. I hoped Emma would be cleaner when I saw her again and hurried out to the front porch.

  Jasper was doing his job as a guard dog and barked at full volume. He lunged at the end of his lead like he was ready to tear the man’s throat out.

  The officer glanced at the dog and then at me.

  “Officer Kennedy sent me to….”

  “What?” I yelled, unable to hear him over the dog.