Kneading to Die (23 page)

“I had to keep it quiet. Otherwise, the whole thing would've been blown.”

Nikki and Stan sat in Izzy Sweet's Sweets drinking iced lattes. Scruffy was curled up at Stan's feet. The dog rarely left her side after Lou rescued her from Gene's house after his arrest and Stan had officially adopted her. It was two weeks to the day after Carole's murder, less than a week since Stan's escapades at the Frog Ledge Dog Pound. The shop was filled with people. More locals, Stan noticed. Maybe the good word was spreading.

“A puppy mill sting operation. Who would've guessed?” Stan shook her head. Nikki's silence and suspicious actions hadn't had anything to do with Carole Morganwick. Instead, Nikki, Diane Kirschbaum and Perri Galveston had been working to take down a horrible puppy mill right here in Frog Ledge. The owners were breeding pit bulls and selling them to known dogfighting offenders. It still bothered Stan that Nikki had been so secretive with her, but at least it had been a noble cause.

“So you knew the woman we busted?” Nikki asked.

“Mrs. Graham.” Stan shook her head. “I met her at the farmers' market. I should've known from her winning personality.”

“And her stinkin' son,” Izzy said, slapping a tray of pastries in front of them. Junior, Gene's dog, followed at her heels. He'd gone to live with Izzy, Bax and Elvira while his owner awaited his fate. “Boy, do they steam my broccoli.”

“‘Steam my broccoli'?” Stan giggled. “I've never heard that. Sorry.” She sobered at Izzy's dirty look. “Come sit, Izzy.”

“Her son—Thurman, how's that for a pretentious piece of scum?—was the ringleader, but she happily took the profits. It was an awful place. A couple of those dogs in the pound were hers. Amazing how friendly, right? The big brown one Diane saved by having a kid pretend to buy him for fighting, so we could be sure.” Nikki picked up a warm chocolate chip cookie and took a bite. “This is amazing.”

“Those dogs were awesome. I was thinking of adopting Henry, the brown one. I swear he saved my life.”

“You should adopt him. Scruffy needs a playmate.” Izzy reached down and ruffled Scruffy's curly hair, earning a lick on the hand from the schnoodle. “Those people are scum. They should rot in jail. Thank you for stopping them, Nikki. Free coffee forever!” Izzy pushed the plate over. “And cookies, of course.”

“We'll have to see what happens. They seized the rest of the dogs and filed charges. That's all we can do right now.” Nikki licked her fingers. “I can't believe you thought I was a killer, Stan. Jeez! It's kind of flattering, though.”

“‘Flattering'? You idiot. What was I supposed to think? You were acting weird. And plotting with Diane. I was just wrong on what you were plotting.”

“So it was Carole's scorned lover. What a shocker!” Nikki shook her head. “These guys are such clichés.”

“Yeah, but what he did to that child.” Izzy shook her head. “Tragic. And the boy was already a mess. He built that explosive, you know. The one that destroyed Carole's clinic and hurt Trooper Pasquale. Some kind of homemade bomb that worked pretty well, I'd say.”

Stan nodded. Cyril had been putting out daily editions of the
Holler
as the story unraveled. He'd gotten a lot of the details from Carole's brother. “That's why Carole had left town. She knew her son had problems, even when he was a kid. And Gene was married, so she'd never told him about the baby.”

Stan tried to remember all the details that had broken loose like a tidal wave after Gene's arrest. Carole's brother had actively tried to get help for his nephew in the early days. But the boy's mental illness had been a constant struggle, until he couldn't keep up with it anymore. Eventually Carole shut him out and disappeared with the boy. She'd kept her married name, Cross, until returning to Frog Ledge a few years ago.

“So he got in trouble and she figured his real father was her last hope to get him some help?” Izzy sighed when Stan nodded.

“But he didn't take the news so well.”

“What happened to the kid, now that he's in jail?” Nikki asked.

“Hospitalized while they figure out what's wrong with him and what to do about it.”

The three women were silent, pondering that. Through the window Stan saw Jake outside. Duncan was on a leash today, sitting on the sidewalk while Jake talked with someone. She was happy to see both of them, even if it was through a window. She had some meals for Duncan in her bag. When she was done with her friends, she'd go see them.

“Well, at least you're off the hook for the murder,” Nikki said. “And you're really over corporate America? I'm still reeling from that.”

“I told you, I turned the job down.” Stan smiled. Bernadette had been shocked.

“Get out,” Izzy said.

“Never thought I'd see the day,” Nikki said.

“I expected that from Nikki, not you,” Stan said to Izzy. “Why are you so surprised? You barely know me.”

“Honey, I'm observant. You seemed lost when you got here.”

Izzy was right. It had been just over two weeks since Stan showed up in town. She had been adrift and trying to hide it until she could get back what she thought was her identity. Today she felt like a different person—a person who didn't belong in corporate America. She would stop groveling at their feet for them to take her back.

She was ready for a new identity.

“Well, congratulations. About time. And you got rid of the corporate jerk of a boyfriend, too. That's even better.” Nikki high-fived her.

Stan hadn't talked to Richard since the ill-fated night she'd caught him with Michelle. He hadn't called, either, which she found telling. And sad. But liberating, too. It was truly a new day. Theme song: “
We Are Never Getting Back Together.
”

“Guess what else I did.” Stan leaned forward, elbows on the table, and grinned. She felt light, free, like a kid telling secrets with her friends. “I told Sheldon Allyn to stuff it.”

“You what!” Nikki squealed.

“I did.” Stan sat back, proud of herself. “He heard about Cyril's story about the poisoned dogs and took his offer back. Then he changed his mind back when everyone realized no one was poisoning dogs, least of all me. But it's too little, too late, in my mind.”

Izzy dropped her head into her palm. Nikki looked devastated.

“What was the real story about the dogs?” Izzy asked. “I'm still afraid to put Bax and Elvira out in the backyard.”

“Didn't you read Cyril's story?” Stan pulled it out of her bag. She'd been keeping it with her as proof since he'd printed it three days ago, exonerating her of the alleged poisonings. Duncan had literally eaten himself sick when he'd discovered a truckload of rotting food a local cafe had thrown out during his trip to Stan's house that morning. And Mrs. Graham had lied about one of her dogs being sick after hearing about Duncan, mostly to divert the heat coming down on her own head. Phineas Dobbins' mother had panicked when she'd put the rumors together with a tummy ache the dog was suffering from. He'd since gotten the all clear from the emergency vet. No conspiracy theory. And no dog murderer. All was well in Frog Ledge again.

“Do you have any idea the PR ops for Pets' Last Chance you just destroyed by turning down Sheldon Allyn?” Nikki demanded, but she smiled.

Stan spread her hands. “Sorry, but I don't care. I'm done working for other people.”

“So what's the plan, Stan?” Nikki grinned. “I love when I get to say that.”

“I'll cook for animals, but I'll do it my way.” She already had a name for her new business: Pawsitively Organic Gourmet Pet Food. And one recurring customer: Char and Ray's dog, Savannah. They had never wavered in their support of Stan, despite the ugly rumors, and Stan had no doubt they'd have other customers flocking to her door in no time.

Izzy looked impressed. “So tell us about it. And sign me up for weekly treats!”

“You're already on the list. I haven't nailed down exactly what the business will look like yet, but I'll figure it out.” She smiled. “I've got time.”

The chain saw appeared out of nowhere, its wide arc narrowly missing the top of her head.

The revving sound filled Stan Connor's ears, loud as a swarm of attack bees surrounding her. She caught a flash of the blade, sharp and silver in the moonlight as it swung. She thought she may have screamed, but she couldn't be sure. She dove for the grass, still clutching her Pyrex containers of bat- and pumpkin-shaped doggie treats she'd spent the last two weeks baking. A fleeting thought ran through her brain:
Does it hurt to be decapitated?

Then the buzzing noise ceased abruptly. Behind her, Brenna McGee, her new assistant, burst out laughing. Stan risked a glance behind her. Brenna was bent over at the waist, covering her mouth with her hand, silent laughter rocking her body. The chain saw hung at the side of a figure dressed completely in black, save for the grotesque mask of a face twisted into a scream. A rubber knife protruded from its head. The figure pulled up the mask.

“Thanks for blowing my cover, McGee.” The high-pitched voice didn't fit the costume. Stan took a closer look. The boy under the mask couldn't be more than fifteen. He seemed annoyed that he couldn't actually hack someone up in his role.

Brenna wiped her eyes. “Really, Danny? You couldn't scare a pack of kindergartners.” Both their eyes turned to Stan. Brenna reconsidered. “Well, she's not in kindergarten. And does your mother know you're out here with that thing? Bet she doesn't.”

Brenna reached for the containers of treats and Stan's bag of party goods. Luckily, everything had survived the fall miraculously unscathed. If they hadn't, she may have had to use the chain saw on him, since she'd spent the last two weeks baking the darn things.

The boy hung his head, the chain saw drooping by his leg. “I was just playin' around. Trying to get people amped for the maze. Don't tell my mom, please? She gets, like, mad about stuff like that.” Danny shifted from foot to foot. The mask slid halfway down over his face again. “You okay, miss?” he asked Stan, still sprawled in the dirt listening to the exchange.

Stan got to her feet, brushing her jeans off with her free hand. Despite the fact that seconds ago she'd thought she was going to lose her head, she had to hand it to the kid. Once upon a time, Stan had been queen of Halloween pranks, and she couldn't help but admire a good one. Waiting at the dairy farm gate—when people weren't expecting to be scared—was clever. “I'm fine. But aren't the Halloween props supposed to be
in
the corn maze?”

In addition to their dairy farm duties, the Happy Cow owners also had acres of corn, which they turned into a maze at the end of the season. Some people around town whispered they were doing it for the money, that things had been tough for the Hoffman family in recent years. Stan was still too new to Frog Ledge to know if that was true or not.

“Danny was never good at following directions.” Brenna winked at him. “I used to babysit him.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Like, a million years ago. Want me to take you guys—uh, ladies—inside?” Now that he'd stepped out of character, he'd reverted back to being gentlemanly.

“I think we're okay.” Stan glanced at Brenna for confirmation. Brenna nodded. Stan turned back to Danny. “I wouldn't want to take you away from your post. I bet people won't be expecting you. Or your chain saw,” she added, eyeing the machine dubiously. “You should at least remove the chain first.”

“So you gonna tell Mom?” He jumped from foot to foot, teenage adrenaline raging.

“Just go put it away before you actually slice someone up by mistake.” Brenna shook her head. “We'll go find your mother. We have to set up for the doggie party.” She looked at Stan.

“She's in the house.” He pointed. “And thanks!” He took off running, the weight of the chain saw dragging one side of him down, giving him a monster-like moonlit shadow.

Stan looked at Brenna, who shrugged. “The Hoffmans have always been a little crazy. Emmalee's sweet, though. It's Hal and the kids you have to worry about, clearly. We should get set up. The maze opens soon. Wait till you see it. It's getting way better every year.”

From her house, two doors away from the farm, Stan had watched the transformation with the same excitement she'd had as a kid heading to the scariest haunted house. The Happy Cow Dairy Farm's innocent-by-day atmosphere had been transformed into a Halloween junkie's dream. Illuminated figures lit up the yard every few feet, from witches to ghosts to scary scarecrows to arched-back black cats. Even the roof of the barn, where the dairy cows stayed, had been draped with glittering cobwebs and enormous spiders.

Off to the right, the Hoffmans' farmhouse was strung with purple and orange lights, more cobwebs and evil-looking pumpkin faces, which flashed eerily in the dusk. She loved Halloween. In a family of people who were Christmas types, she'd always been the odd one who adored getting scared senseless. Aside from the ad hoc chain saw at the entrance, of course.

It was the height of the Halloween season—two weeks before the main event. The crisp fall air had settled over their small Connecticut town, and the leaves were brilliant with color.
It's true. Nothing compares to fall in New England,
Stan thought.

“You're gonna go through the maze later, right?” Brenna was clearly itching to partake in the festivities.

“I'd love to. We'll have to see how the party goes first.” Stan checked her watch as they made their way to the farmhouse. “Is this really the town's first Halloween costume doggie party?”

Brenna turned back to Stan and arched an eyebrow. Before she could respond, a ghost popped up off the grass and screamed at her. She and Stan both jumped.

“Oh, cool! I haven't seen those since I was a kid.” Stan stopped to admire the ghost, which immediately dropped to the ground in preparation for the next unsuspecting soul who stepped on the booby trap.

“They're really going all out this year. Anyway, you think people had doggie parties around here before?” Brenna's tone indicated Stan would be a fool if she replied affirmatively.

“Well, why this year?”

“Because every dog around here loves your treats, and Emmalee has a fenced-in area that's perfect for a doggie party.” Brenna waved in the general direction of the house. “Benny is psyched, I'm sure.”

Benny was the fox terrier guest of honor. His parents, Nancy and Jim, had contacted Stan a few weeks ago, doing serious due diligence on the prospective costume party. Emmalee had offered her fenced-in yard for a nominal fee, and they had asked Stan to cater.

Stan was thrilled to oblige. She'd just started getting her new business, Pawsitively Organic Gourmet Pet Food, off the ground. A party was a great way to get exposure, and it gave her a chance to get Brenna involved. Aside from working nights and weekends at her brother Jake's bar, Brenna studied political science by day and harbored a secret interest in animal nutrition, which she satisfied in any spare free time she had.

“Plus, I think it really is true . . . that Em needs cash.” Brenna lowered her voice as they neared the house. “Hal's at the bar almost every night. Jake had to shut him off a couple of times, and I think he just goes somewhere else after that. He's really giving Em a run for her money.”

“That's too bad.” Stan had never met Hal. She'd seen him around town here and there. Emmalee worked at the farm pretty much nonstop. She also took their goods to the farmers' market, did home deliveries of their milk and kept an eye on the other local farms that operated under the Happy Cow name. Now she was renting out her yard, too. If the stories were true, Stan felt sorry for her.

She followed Brenna up the porch steps. The old Lab, who always hung out on the porch, barked halfheartedly from inside. A minute later, Emmalee yanked open the door. Describing her appearance as “frazzled” would be putting it mildly. Her brown hair seemed even more shot through with gray than the last time Stan had seen her. The long hours of physical labor the farm demanded of her had caused Emmalee to lose weight—but not in a muscle-gaining good way. The sound of a crying child wafted out at them from another room.

“Hi, ladies, come on in.” Despite whatever was going on, Emmalee managed a smile. “I had Danny set up some tables for you out back for the party. Nancy and Benny are out back. Jim went to get some pooper-scooper bags.”

“Ah, can't run out of those.” Stan smiled. “How are you, Emmalee?”

Emmalee shrugged. Behind her, the shrieking child got louder. “Doing fine, doing fine. Have you seen Danny, by the way? He told me he'd do tickets for the maze, and it's darn near opening time.”

Stan and Brenna glanced at each other. Brenna cleared her throat. “He, uh, went to the barn for a minute. He said he'd be right back. Do you need help with Chris?”

Emmalee glanced behind her, toward the sound of the child, fatigue slipping into her eyes. “I suppose so. Hal was supposed to take him out, all dressed up, to scare people in the maze. All the actors should be in their places by now. We have some scary things in there this year, we do. But Hal hasn't come home yet.” She sighed. “So, yes, if you want to entertain Chris for a while, I'd sure appreciate it. I have a couple things left to do before I shut the barn down for the night.”

“I'll do that and meet you outside,” Brenna told Stan.

“Come on, I'll take you out.” Emmalee led Stan out back. Inside, the child finally stopped crying. Emmalee looked up and crossed herself. Stan could see the lights from the corn maze ahead. She wondered if Danny had put the chain saw away before manning the ticket booth.

“Benny is dressed up like a bumblebee. He's none too happy about it, either,” Emmalee confided. “But the other dog owners promised they'd dress up their dogs, too.”

“I'll make sure Benny gets special treatment as the host,” Stan said as Emmalee unlatched the gate and they stepped into the yard. Benny, a chunky black-and-white dog crammed into a hideous black-and-yellow-striped ensemble, lumbered over to them. The headpiece with the antennas was sliding forward.

“Benny! Your antennas!” Benny's owner, Nancy, equally crammed into her jeans and knitted pumpkin sweater, chased him and stooped to right his headpiece. “He's having trouble keeping it on,” she said, standing up and thrusting a hand at Stan. “So nice to meet you finally. Benny is so excited!”

“I'm so glad,” Stan said. “I'll set up the treats and the prizes I brought for the games. You can pick out Benny's first, since he's the host.”

Nancy beamed. “Let's do it. Before Nyla gets here.” She wrinkled her nose.

“Nyla?” Stan asked.

“The poodle from down the road. She competes with Benny for everything.” Nancy rolled her eyes.

A bark sounded from the front, followed by a ringing doorbell. “Excuse me, I'll go let the guests in,” Emmalee said. “Stan, set up however you want.” She hurried back inside.

“Okay, so here's what we have. Benny, you want to see?” Stan set her bag on the table and began unloading. “These are some new chews that I picked up. All natural, from a local farm.” She held one out for inspection. Benny immediately snatched it and dashed under the table.

“Ben-Ben! Manners!” Nancy sighed. “What kind of chew? He likes it.”

Stan hesitated. Some people got freaked out when she told them it was a cow trachea. But the reality was, it was the best treat for a dog. Rawhide was junk in comparison. Before she could answer Nancy, she heard shouts from out by the corn maze. Both women turned in that direction. Benny continued to eat his treat. Emmalee returned with a man holding a boxer on a leash. They both paused when they heard the shouting, now joined by screams.

“What's all that ruckus about?” Emmalee asked, shaking her head. “If that boy is up to something again—”

“Mrs. Hoffman!” A girl dressed as a sexy vampire with a stake in her heart ran up to the fence. “You've gotta come right now. To the maze. Something's happened to Mr. Hoffman.”