Thirty-Two and a Half Complications
Page 45
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I grabbed Muffy’s leash and walked with him to the door. “Because I plan to get you good and worn out first.” I started to walk away, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me in for a kiss. It was almost enough to make me reconsider going on a walk, but Muffy had seen the leash and was whining at my feet.
“Duty calls,” Mason murmured against my lips. “Be careful.”
“It’s a walk,” I said, descending the porch steps. “What could happen?”
“You should never ask that. Just be careful, okay?”
“Okay.”
As soon as we got outside, Muffy started running in excited circles at my feet. I stooped to put on her leash, then stopped mid-action. For the most part, my little dog minded me well and she was happier roaming free, not that I blamed her. I figured I’d let her have her way.
We’d been on a few walks since moving to the farm and we’d always gone north, toward the acres and acres of fields I owned. Today I wanted to go south. I knew I owned a few acres of grassland scattered with trees in that direction and a neighboring farm jutted up against my property. I wanted to check the area out.
We found a natural path close to the woods, and I tried to ignore the unease that crawled up my back. I couldn’t avoid the woods forever. Maybe once things died down I could take Muffy on a walk through them, create some new memories.
Muffy bounced down the path, thrilled to be roaming outside. I needed to make more time for her. I supposed I’d have the opportunity if the nursery folded.
The knowledge slammed through me: Unless something changed, I was about to lose my business.
White-hot fury burned in my gut when I thought about Violet destroying our business and my credit. I couldn’t sit idly by and let it all fall apart, but I didn’t see any way to pay off the loan, let alone finance our other bills. Finding the robbers and getting back my cash from the O’Leary job was starting to seem like the only solution.
A world with me and Neely Kate playing amateur sleuths was a world turned on its head. But since the world had already gone crazy, maybe the only thing we could do was follow suit. We just needed to figure out what—or who—to investigate next.
Still, money aside, part of me wondered if closing the doors to the nursery wouldn’t be for the best. Violet and I were definitely at odds and I couldn’t imagine us working together peacefully any time soon. But if the nursery closed, I was out hundreds of thousands of dollars. And if I was really pregnant, I couldn’t afford to lose all that money. Mason and I would have another person to take care of. The thought was sobering.
Jonah was right—one problem at a time.
Then it hit me. Maybe I was going the wrong direction. Perhaps we should concentrate our efforts on finding Mr. Sullivan. Then maybe he could tell Mr. Burns he’d given Violet an extension, buying us more time to get my money back. That is, after I beat him with a shovel until he told me who’d robbed the bank.
Muffy ran up to a dilapidated wooden fence and I realized that this area had to have been a horse or cow pasture at one point. It was just missing a few sections of fence, which had most likely fallen down. A wooden gate hung on one hinge, leaving a gap big enough to walk through, which Muffy took as an invitation.
“Muffy,” I called after her as she slipped through the opening.
She stopped and turned to look at me, tilting her head to the side and giving me a sad look.
“Oh, okay,” I groaned. The way that gate hung open told me that the field couldn’t possibly be in active use, so I didn’t have to worry we’d be trampled by cows. I knew there was a farmhouse on this property. Maybe I could I introduce myself to my neighbor.
When I didn’t continue to protest her movements, Muffy took off running in the overgrown grass, finding a narrow dirt path. I traipsed through the grass after her as she bolted toward a gravel road. By the time I caught up, Muffy was waiting at the edge of the road. There was a field of miniature goats in an enclosed pen on the other side, and the animals were totally captivating her attention.
As soon as she saw me, she ran straight across the gravel street toward the barbed wire pen and started barking at the animals. Without warning, all but one of the ten goats fell to their sides, their legs sticking straight out from their bodies. I released a shriek. “Muffy, you killed them!” Then the last standing goat fell over.
Muffy had already lost interest in the goats by then. She’d trotted over to the ditch between the penned area and the road and started whining at something inside it.
I hurried over, panicked by the possibility that we’d somehow killed a field of goats. How had it happened and how in the world would I be able to reimburse the farmer who owned them? As I walked toward my little dog, one goat began to revive, thank God, and several were climbing to their feet by the time I’d made it across the road. Muffy almost immediately released a loud, smelly fart. I waved a hand in front of my face, as I peered into the ditch.
“What are you looking at?” I moved her slightly to the side, the blood rushing from my head when I saw what had grabbed her attention.
The good news was that finding Mr. Sullivan had been easier than expected.
The bad news was that he wouldn’t be of much use, seeing how he was dead.
His pale, bloated face stared up at me with vacant eyes, and I screamed even louder than I had the first time.
The goats bleated, then fell over like they were frozen solid.
“Again?” I shouted, my hands shaking as I dug my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed 911. “I found a body next to a field of goats that keep fallin’ over,” I said as soon as the operator answered.
“Duty calls,” Mason murmured against my lips. “Be careful.”
“It’s a walk,” I said, descending the porch steps. “What could happen?”
“You should never ask that. Just be careful, okay?”
“Okay.”
As soon as we got outside, Muffy started running in excited circles at my feet. I stooped to put on her leash, then stopped mid-action. For the most part, my little dog minded me well and she was happier roaming free, not that I blamed her. I figured I’d let her have her way.
We’d been on a few walks since moving to the farm and we’d always gone north, toward the acres and acres of fields I owned. Today I wanted to go south. I knew I owned a few acres of grassland scattered with trees in that direction and a neighboring farm jutted up against my property. I wanted to check the area out.
We found a natural path close to the woods, and I tried to ignore the unease that crawled up my back. I couldn’t avoid the woods forever. Maybe once things died down I could take Muffy on a walk through them, create some new memories.
Muffy bounced down the path, thrilled to be roaming outside. I needed to make more time for her. I supposed I’d have the opportunity if the nursery folded.
The knowledge slammed through me: Unless something changed, I was about to lose my business.
White-hot fury burned in my gut when I thought about Violet destroying our business and my credit. I couldn’t sit idly by and let it all fall apart, but I didn’t see any way to pay off the loan, let alone finance our other bills. Finding the robbers and getting back my cash from the O’Leary job was starting to seem like the only solution.
A world with me and Neely Kate playing amateur sleuths was a world turned on its head. But since the world had already gone crazy, maybe the only thing we could do was follow suit. We just needed to figure out what—or who—to investigate next.
Still, money aside, part of me wondered if closing the doors to the nursery wouldn’t be for the best. Violet and I were definitely at odds and I couldn’t imagine us working together peacefully any time soon. But if the nursery closed, I was out hundreds of thousands of dollars. And if I was really pregnant, I couldn’t afford to lose all that money. Mason and I would have another person to take care of. The thought was sobering.
Jonah was right—one problem at a time.
Then it hit me. Maybe I was going the wrong direction. Perhaps we should concentrate our efforts on finding Mr. Sullivan. Then maybe he could tell Mr. Burns he’d given Violet an extension, buying us more time to get my money back. That is, after I beat him with a shovel until he told me who’d robbed the bank.
Muffy ran up to a dilapidated wooden fence and I realized that this area had to have been a horse or cow pasture at one point. It was just missing a few sections of fence, which had most likely fallen down. A wooden gate hung on one hinge, leaving a gap big enough to walk through, which Muffy took as an invitation.
“Muffy,” I called after her as she slipped through the opening.
She stopped and turned to look at me, tilting her head to the side and giving me a sad look.
“Oh, okay,” I groaned. The way that gate hung open told me that the field couldn’t possibly be in active use, so I didn’t have to worry we’d be trampled by cows. I knew there was a farmhouse on this property. Maybe I could I introduce myself to my neighbor.
When I didn’t continue to protest her movements, Muffy took off running in the overgrown grass, finding a narrow dirt path. I traipsed through the grass after her as she bolted toward a gravel road. By the time I caught up, Muffy was waiting at the edge of the road. There was a field of miniature goats in an enclosed pen on the other side, and the animals were totally captivating her attention.
As soon as she saw me, she ran straight across the gravel street toward the barbed wire pen and started barking at the animals. Without warning, all but one of the ten goats fell to their sides, their legs sticking straight out from their bodies. I released a shriek. “Muffy, you killed them!” Then the last standing goat fell over.
Muffy had already lost interest in the goats by then. She’d trotted over to the ditch between the penned area and the road and started whining at something inside it.
I hurried over, panicked by the possibility that we’d somehow killed a field of goats. How had it happened and how in the world would I be able to reimburse the farmer who owned them? As I walked toward my little dog, one goat began to revive, thank God, and several were climbing to their feet by the time I’d made it across the road. Muffy almost immediately released a loud, smelly fart. I waved a hand in front of my face, as I peered into the ditch.
“What are you looking at?” I moved her slightly to the side, the blood rushing from my head when I saw what had grabbed her attention.
The good news was that finding Mr. Sullivan had been easier than expected.
The bad news was that he wouldn’t be of much use, seeing how he was dead.
His pale, bloated face stared up at me with vacant eyes, and I screamed even louder than I had the first time.
The goats bleated, then fell over like they were frozen solid.
“Again?” I shouted, my hands shaking as I dug my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed 911. “I found a body next to a field of goats that keep fallin’ over,” I said as soon as the operator answered.
