Page 90 of Exposure of Murder

Her mind raced through tasks ahead. The animals needed to be fed since Bucky didn’t work weekends, followed by a couple of phone calls she had to make. Later in the morning, Savannah would arrive.

After breakfast, Jane stacked some wood in the fireplace. It was the perfect day to sit in front of a fire and catch up with her best friend.

She got out her heavier jacket and made her way to the barn. The wind was picking up, so she hurried. The sheep spotted her and raced over to the fence, bleating.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, keep your wool on,” she hollered. “I’m moving as fast as I can.”

The barn was a welcome relief from the wind and cold air. Inside, Daisy and Bruiser climbed down from the hayloft and greeted her with soft purrs, weaving between her legs.

“Guess you guys are hungry too,” she said, reaching down to give each cat a pat. Stooping to grab a scoop of cat food, she was unexpectedly pushed into the feed bin, causing the food to fall on the ground and underneath the bin. Startled, she glanced behind her and saw one of the smaller sheep had escaped from the field and was pushing her.

“Crap,” she muttered as she grabbed a bucket and filled it with feed to coax the wayward ewe into a stall.

Then she walked back and saw the cats scratching at the food underneath the bin, which sat about three inches off the ground. Loose food was like catnip to rats and mice. She bent down and tried to scoop it up.

In reaching farther under the bin, her hand brushed something hard and unexpected. She lay down on the ground to see what it was. It looked like a metal box, and Jane was confused. Who left their box in the barn under the feed bin? And what was in it? She attempted to pull it out, but it was too far back to comfortably reach. She was starting to get up to grabsomething to help her when she heard footsteps coming into the barn.

“I thought I’d find you here,” said a voice behind her.

Jane turned and saw Victor standing in the open doorway dressed all in black, his face twisted with anger and looking dangerous.

“Victor! What are you doing here?” she asked, her heart pounding as she stood up. This didn’t seem like a social call.

“I came here for you.” Victor chuckled. “Had to wait for that boyfriend of yours to leave. After meeting the sheriff yesterday, I realized I was no longer safe in this town.”

Jane furrowed her brow in confusion. “I don’t understand. Why do you think you’re not safe?”

Victor’s smile was chilling. “Oh, Janey.” He shook his head. “You really are an innocent, aren’t you? No matter, get in the car.”

“Excuse me?” Jane cocked her head. Victor was confusing her. “Why should I get in the car? I’m busy. And what’s going on with you?”

Victor’s eyes turned cold and hard. He was deadly serious. She was in trouble—big trouble. Jane stepped back, her breath catching, her eyes sweeping the area—nowhere to run to.

He pulled out a gun and aimed it at her. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Makes no difference to me, but it might to you.” He gestured to his car parked outside. “Move.”

Jane’s blood ran cold. She inched toward his car, her eyes darting around the barn for something to hit Victor with, hoping to create a diversion so she could get away. But Bucky kept the barn too neat, too clean.

“Move. Now,” he ordered, motioning to the car.

She struggled to remember some of the moves she learned in a self-defense class while researching a book. None came to mind. Victor didn’t look like the kind of man who cared if awoman burst into tears. But getting into the car meant certain death. After writing this kind of scene in her books one too many times, she was convinced of that.

Passing him, she lashed out with her right foot, connecting with his knee. Not waiting to see if it had any effect on him, she bolted. She got about three feet before something heavy slammed into her back and she was pushed to the ground, striking her cheek on a rock with a sickening thud.

“Bitch,” Victor snarled, grabbing her up by her hair as he dragged her to the car. Jane screamed and thrashed, but he was too strong. He popped open the trunk and shoved her in.

Jane tried to scramble as far away as she could in the confined space, her heart beating wildly as Victor pulled out a syringe and leaned in. She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Jane shrank back, but he was faster. The needle pierced her neck. Cold numbness spread through her body.

Victor’s face blurred. She watched his body wobble back and forth and then move in and out like a perverted circus clown, his laughter echoing in her ears as everything went black.

Forty-Seven

Ethan was sitting at his desk enjoying a cup of coffee from Wild Roasters, the rich aroma mingling with the smell of stale coffee and furniture polish. The brew was strong, just the way he liked, and he silently thanked Jane for introducing him to it.

He flipped through the reports from yesterday, the rustle of paper competing with the ringing of phones in the background, trying to recall all that happened. It was one disaster after another—a DUI with a car wrapped around a tree—no injuries, thank goodness; a theft at a convenience store; yet another domestic disturbance at Betty Ann and Ralph’s house, the third time this month. He rubbed his temples and wondered if Betty Ann would ever leave the bum, but that wasn’t his call.

So, when he finally made it home to Jane last night, all he wanted to do was eat, take her to bed and make love to her. Which was exactly what happened.

He hated leaving their warm bed this morning, but duty called. Ethan knew Jane was busy this morning, so there was no chance that he’d bump into her like yesterday at the Feed & Grow.

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