Page 65 of Exposure of Murder

“Ha ha. It’s mostly to keep medicines out of the hands of kids who might be fooling around in here. Plus, animals are naturally curious. If they got into the feed, they’d get sick.”

“Makes sense,” said Victor. “What other secrets are hidden here?”

Jane furrowed her brow. What was up with Victor and secrets?

“No more secrets. Unless you call the cat house in the hayloft a secret.” Jane reached for his hand. “Come, I want to show you the best part.”

Leading Victor into the greenhouse, she looked at him and smiled. “This is my happy place.”

The earthy scent of soil filled her senses. Sunlight streamed through the windows. “I can’t wait for spring to come and start a garden.”

“This is wonderful,” Victor said, taking it all in. “I can see how special this will be when all the seeds come up.”

He walked around the room. “You have a space heater. Propane?”

“Yup. I got that at a barn sale. Saved me a lot of money.”

“I bet. That’s a smart move especially since it gets so cold here.” He glanced around. “Nice setup.”

She looked at her watch. “Why don’t we go back to the house and have a picnic on the porch? It’s warmed up enough that we shouldn’t be too cold.”

“Perfect.”

Victor followed her back to the house. As they reached the farmhouse, Jane’s phone buzzed in her pocket. Glancing at the screen, she saw a text from Ethan.

Miss you. Dinner tonight?

Jane’s heart fluttered. She hadn’t expected to hear from him so soon. She typed a quickyesand put her phone away.

“Anything important?” he asked.

“No.” She laughed. “Farm business.”

The sun was high in the sky as they made their way back to the house. Jane couldn’t shake the feeling that something else was going on. Victor kept asking about secrets. What secrets was he talking about?

“Isthat the pond where the body was found?”

What a laugh! As if he didn’t know.

Victor stormed out of Jane’s house, seething with frustration.

The woman either had no clue as to what was going on or was lying to him. Either way, it was unacceptable.

He sat in his car. Memories of that night flooded his mind, vivid and sharp. David Thornton’s death had been necessary. He’d gotten too greedy.

Thornton should have known better than walking down dark, narrow alleyways, especially alone, but he’d taken the shortcut he usually used. The moon hung low in the night sky, casting eerie shadows along the brick path, and Victor could still picture David’s breath visible in the chilly air. Thornton hummed to himself, unaware he was being followed and tonight would be his last booty call. In fact, his last night on earth.

Victor lurked in the shadows. The weight of his Glock 19 was heavy in his hand. His heart raced in anticipation. It was time.

David was screwing him over. Kept ranting on about Jane’s farm and family honor. The man was crazy. David promised him the land and had accepted a steep fee for finding it. Then, in a fit of paranoia, David stole the cash and supposedly buried it with the ledger in the barn. Why there? Did he mention that just to taunt Victor? Did he really think he was going to get control of the farm? Keep the cash? Guess there was truth to the saying there was no honor among thieves.

As the cheating bastard passed by, still humming and oblivious, Victor sprung from his hiding place and, with one swift, powerful blow, struck David on the back of head, the sound of the impact sickening in the quiet night. David staggered forward, trying to regain his balance. Before he could take another step, Victor shot him in the back. David crashed to the ground in a heap.

Victor recalled standing over the motionless body with adrenaline coursing through his veins, then he took a moment to catch his breath. He scanned the darkened alley to make sure they were alone—no barking dogs, no sudden lights in windows. He was alone. Thankfully, the alleyway was in a more deserted part of town.

Dragging David’s body to his parked car had been a struggle, his muscles burning. The trunk lid creaked as he opened it. With a grunt, he shoved David’s body inside. He stopped and listened. Silence.

The heavy chain lay coiled underneath the body as he closed the trunk and slid into the driver’s seat as he navigated the quiet streets.

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