A Biscuit, a Casket (25 page)

Stan froze. Then the voice in her head screamed
go go go
and she dashed back against the side of the office building for cover. She was certain
Leigh-Anne hadn’t seen her. She’d been intent on whatever she was doing to Em. She
cursed herself for forgetting her phone. Now she had to get to one. The closest would
be in the milking area offices. Where she was heading anyway.

She paused, listening. Other than the faint sounds of Heather Langenkamp screaming
on the movie screen across the street, she heard nothing. Except her own blood pounding
through her body. Praying the door wasn’t locked, she slipped around the corner and
tried it. It gave easily under her hand. Thank God.

She stepped into the milking parlor. It was empty. Not time for a shift yet. The door
to the offices was around the back. She headed that way and stepped into the hall.

And almost collided with Roger.

“Oh, Roger, you scared me! Thank goodness you’re here. We need to call the police.
Em’s in trouble. . . .” Her voice trailed off. Roger hadn’t reacted at all to her
appearance or her words. He simply stared at her.

“Roger?”

Roger slid his hand out from his pocket. The black metal of a small pistol glinted
in the dim light. “Sorry, Stan. You’re going to have to come with me.”

 

 

The cornstalks shifted in the breeze, rattling against each other. Stan could smell
the slightly musty odor of the stalks coupled with the sweet, smoky scent of someone’s
woodstove. It would’ve been a nice walk on a gorgeous fall night if her hands weren’t
tied and a gun wasn’t poking her back. When they reached the crime scene tape blocking
the maze entrance, Roger forced her under it. Her mind raced through escape options.
Could she mule-kick him in the right place without him shooting her, then take off
before Leigh-Anne realized what had happened?

Roger shoved her around the first corner. Shoot. The farther they went into the corn
maze, the more problems. If she tried to run she could find herself in a dead end.
But he stopped.

“Leigh-Anne?” he called out.

Silence. They both waited.

Leigh-Anne Sutton stepped out from around the first bend. She looked almost exactly
as she had the last time Stan had seen her—blond curls falling out of a clip, jeans,
the ever-present pink work boots. Except for a bloody cut on her cheek. And a gun
in her right hand. Pointing right at Stan.

“Stan! So glad you could join us.” Leigh-Anne’s voice carried that lilt Stan had gotten
used to over the past week working at the farm, but it had taken on a sinister edge.
That could, of course, be attributed to the situation.

Stan processed the scene in front of her in a series of
aha!
moments that felt like they’d taken a long time to reach, but in reality couldn’t
have been more than a few seconds. Leigh-Anne was guilty. She and Roger were in cahoots.
Em was in trouble. Oh, God. Had they already killed her?

“Oh, don’t worry about your friend.” Leigh-Anne had read her mind. “Mrs. Hoffman is
just fine. For the moment. We have a little business we need to take care of, so she
isn’t going anywhere. But you and I are going to take a little walk. Who knows you’re
here?”

“Jake does. He’s on his way over right now. And his sister isn’t far behind.”

She chuckled. “Nice try. Trooper Pasquale has her man. Well, he’s missing at the moment,
but she’ll find him. And then, as far as she’s concerned, this case is closed. And
if sexy bartender is on his way, well, it will be a shame but we’ll have to get rid
of him, too.”

Stan paled. He wouldn’t come over looking for her already, would he? She hadn’t been
gone that long. She sent him a telepathic message to stay away.

“Want me to take her?” Roger asked. He sounded tired. Like he was just trying to get
a job done. And she could have sworn she caught a flash of guilt in his eyes earlier
when he tied her hands. How had Leigh-Anne gotten Roger on board with this? Had he
helped her kill Hal, or did he simply get in over his head and now he had no choice?

“Why are you doing this, Leigh-Anne?” Stan blurted out. “If you killed Hal, you should
just confess. You’re not going to get anywhere hurting other people. Do you think
no one’s going to put it together?”

“Of course they won’t. Especially now that Tyler is on the run. They’ll just think
he’s on a killing spree. He actually did me a favor. Let’s go.” To Roger, “Is Miguel
handled?”

Her gaze was icy cold. Stan shivered. How had she not noticed the evil in this woman?

Roger nodded. “I left him in the barn.”

Stan closed her eyes. Had they killed one of the workers? Some poor immigrant kid
who could barely speak English and was just trying to make a living?

“Excellent,” Leigh-Anne said. “Take her up to the barn.” She motioned behind her.
That must mean Em was still in the maze. Roger nodded and disappeared around a corner.

Now it was just the two of them. Stan gauged her escape options. It had been a long
time since she’d taken a martial arts class, but she had been good at kicking. Maybe
she could use her feet to kick the gun out of Leigh-Anne’s hands.

But Leigh-Anne was on alert, with what looked like her brand new pistol pointed steadily
at Stan. Fancy one, too. Stan didn’t know much about guns, but this was clearly a
high performer. At least it wasn’t a sickle. If she could distract her, she could
at least make a run for it.

Until the bullets caught up with her.

Leigh-Anne shoved Stan roughly forward, causing her to trip. “Walk. No funny stuff.”

“So you did kill Hal.” Stan forced herself to walk slowly despite Leigh-Anne pulling
on her. Wherever they were going, she was sure it wasn’t good. The longer it took
to get there, the more chance she had of figuring something out to save herself.

“He left me no choice,” Leigh-Anne said. “I didn’t particularly want to, but I wasn’t
getting anywhere being nice, either. He’s a hard man to be in business with. He cared
more about those stupid cows than he did about making money. Always his problem, I
swear. Too soft.”

“Why? Because he didn’t want you for a partner?” she pressed.

“Partner?” Leigh-Anne spat the word. “I didn’t want to be his partner. He had too
many
ethics
to be in this business. I should’ve been running this co-op. It would’ve been better
for everyone. I even offered to take over his silly farm, and he shut me down.” Her
eyes blazed with the injustice of it. “Backstabbing fool got what he deserved. Threatening
to report
me
to the Department of Agriculture for unethical farming? Me? I’ve made this operation
more money in two years than he could ever
dream
of making.”

So her story about Tyler approaching her to take over the farm had been a big lie.
Stan should’ve seen it sooner. She mentally kicked herself for being so naive. Better
to blame a sad, confused eighteen-year-old than a conniving, unethical farmer just
because she was female? She had been so stupid.

The more agitated Leigh-Anne got, the faster she walked, dragging Stan across the
field as she tried to keep up, both with the pace and the litany of words. That had
to be what the documents on Hal’s computer were about. He must’ve been gathering evidence
for a complaint, and she found out.

“And he was snooping into my personal life,” Leigh-Anne said. “Thought he could make
the case that I got rid of my husband. I covered my tracks well, but I still couldn’t
chance it.” She shook her head. “If he had spent half as much time trying to make
the business money as he did trying to get me in trouble for the size of my cow enclosures,
we would have been making a lot more money. He just had to go.”

The words were chilling. Stan’s eyes wildly searched the property, empty on all sides,
for some way out of this. They had moved away from the corn maze, the cow areas, and
the offices, heading into the open field. Was Leigh-Anne going to take her into the
woods and shoot her? Leave her body for compost?

“You really think no one is going to figure all this out, Leigh-Anne? Jessie Pasquale
is smart,” Stan said. “She doesn’t buy for a minute that Tyler killed his father.”

Leigh-Anne’s grip on Stan’s arm tightened, her nails cutting into Stan’s flesh. “Shut
up. You’re lying. I have been living and breathing this hick town, making sure no
one else knew about Hal’s scheme to destroy me. That’s why I had to come here. I needed
to get rid of whatever evidence he had. But I had a little trouble finding it. You
of all people understand my pain. Trying to dig through the mess in that place is
like finding a needle in a haystack.” She looked at Stan, waiting to see if they were
going to share a moment. When Stan didn’t respond, Leigh-Anne’s voice turned nasty
again.

“It would’ve gone faster if you weren’t in the way. Stationing you in that office
really threw a wrench in the works. But that’s Em. She never did trust me.” Leigh-Anne
smiled at this.

Stan could make out the sinister curve of her lips in the shadows. She closed her
eyes briefly, offered up a prayer to anyone who was listening. The farther away from
civilization they went, the more dread settled in her bones. She couldn’t even hear
the movie across the street anymore.

“Good thing Roger was easily paid off. And Enrico, but that bumbling fool didn’t do
me any favors. At least he was too scared to talk when they caught him. But if he’d
succeeded in damaging the milk supply, Em might have finally caved. Sold me the farm
and got out of Dodge. But the best laid plans . . .” She sighed. “And too many people
jumped in to help her. Even the rest of our business partners, who always professed
their loyalty to my way of thinking. Except for Teddy, of course, but everyone knew
he was biased since he was gaga over the boss’s wife. This way.” Leigh-Anne turned
left, toward the vehicle storage area where all the big machinery lived. What else
was back here? Stan racked her brain. A bunch of storage sheds for feed and hay. The
manure pit. More woods.

“Where are we going?”

“For a swim,” Leigh-Anne said matter-of-factly.

A swim? Stan’s heart sank. The manure pit. She remembered Roger’s chilling words on
the tour, about the farmers who had died from the methane gas and the churning augers.
With her hands tied, she didn’t stand a chance if she went in.

No way. Stan wasn’t about to sit back and let this happen. She had only been on one
date with Jake. She had three animals who needed her and a new business that she loved.
She was not dying at the hands of a lunatic dairy farmer. Sooner or later Jake had
to realize she was in trouble. Or someone would show up at the farm. Wouldn’t they?

But she couldn’t count on that. She had to get herself out of this mess.

“Leigh-Anne!” They both turned. Roger headed across the field toward them.

“Everything all set?” Leigh-Anne asked when he was close.

He nodded, huffing slightly. “She’s a wily one. Spitting mad, too. I had to subdue
her. Moved her from the maze to the cow barn. She won’t be trying to run again for
a while. What’s the plan for her?”

“We have to take care of this one first,” Leigh-Anne said with a sidelong glance at
Stan. “That won’t take long, then I’ll deal with the rest.” And then she calmly swung
the gun, which until now had been trained on Stan, toward Roger. Stan watched in horror
as she pulled the trigger. The shot cracked through the still night air like a firecracker.
Roger went down.

“No!” she gasped.

Leigh-Anne raised her eyebrows. “Oh, hush. He just tied you up, sugar. Please tell
me you have more self-respect than to feel bad for him. Let’s go.”

Stan stared at her, real fear creeping into her bones. This lady was nuts. They were
the only two left standing on the farm. And Stan’s hands were tied.

“I said, let’s go!” Leigh-Anne jerked her arm. Stan started moving again.

She had to avoid going in, at all costs.

“What will you do once you’ve killed us all, Leigh-Anne?” she asked, forcing her voice
to stay calm. “Someone will figure it out. You won’t just be able to run the place
like nothing ever happened.”

“Such a doubter.” Leigh-Anne chuckled. “You underestimate me, dear. I have been running
my dear, dead husband’s farms with no one the wiser. Everyone feels terribly sorry
for me. And the farms are doing quite well, actually. Ever since I made some changes.”

“Changes?”

“Of course. He was another one. Too much license to the cows. The tail was wagging
the dog. The inmates were running the asylum. You know all the sayings. Once I tightened
the ship, we started making money. Rather, I did. The same will happen with the Happy
Cow name. We’ll be the best and most profitable farm co-op in the state. Trust me.”

They neared the manure tank. Stan was almost out of time. She started to sweat, imagining
the last grains of sand falling through the hourglass, the remaining years of her
life dwindling away faster and faster.

Leigh-Anne shoved her at the thin ladder leading to the narrow platform at the top
of the pit. “Climb.”

“How am I supposed to climb with no hands?”

“You’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out. Or I’ll shoot you.” She jammed the gun
into her back. “Climb.”

Stan stepped on the first step, almost falling backward. She felt Leigh-Anne almost
lift her from behind, forcing her to the next step. The woman was strong, but this
might be Stan’s only chance. She could pretend to fall and Leigh-Anne would have no
choice but to fall with her. She could either buy some time to run, or the gun could
go off. Which wouldn’t be pretty.

She kept climbing. The five stairs felt like five hundred, but she finally made it
onto the tiny square platform with Leigh-Anne’s help. The crazy woman had shoved her
over the last step, nearly face-planting her on the platform. There was barely enough
room for the two of them. Stan felt dizzy looking down into the pit. Were the gases
getting to her already? It could be her imagination. But maybe she could use it to
save her own life. Either that or Leigh-Anne would just shoot her and throw her in,
but that might be an easier death.