Windrow Garden Page 14

  Nicole reached into a drawer and pulled out a small black cigar. Her mind and heart were racing with the possibilities of life with Sally and the opportunities that faced them. She sneaked back into the bedroom and quietly grabbed her blue jeans and returned to the living room to put them on. She could not quiet her mind, and she worried that the smell of the tiny cigar might wake Sally. She walked outside to have her indulgence in the dark.

  Nicole stepped into the shadows and looked into the sky at the full bright moon. Her heart swelled anew for the luck and love she felt. The warm summer air drifted past her and wafted the smoke from her cigar across the compound.

  As Nicole stood under the broad shadow of the elm tree, she heard the soft, hurried sounds of footsteps near Sally’s house. She peered into the darkness and wondered if one of the animals had broken out of its pen. Then she saw a thin, hunched form emerge from the shadows by the house and move cautiously into the full light of the moon. It was no farm animal. At first she thought it was Jake, that his age-induced intermittent sleep habits had made him as restless as she was this night. She almost called out but was immediately thankful when the words stuck in her throat.

  The figure hurried past the orchard and headed in the direction of the machine shop with agility and speed that Jake did not possess. A siren of panic shot through her. Everything about the furtive movements told her that whoever it was, the person meant no good. Nicole quickly snuffed out her cigar on the bark of the tree and ran barefoot across the yard toward the hurrying shadow before her.

  Years of military training fresh in her body and mind came on full alert as she crouched in the shadows, listened, and then ran to the corner of the shed. She squinted her eyes to try to pierce into the darkness through the window. A soft thud from the interior made her pull her head away from the glass. The sound told her all she needed to know. Someone, someone who shouldn’t be there, was inside. She crept around to the west end of the long shed and worked her way toward the opening in the double doors. Her palms itched for want of a weapon, and she searched the ground near the doors for something to use.

  Suddenly, the sound of hurrying footsteps rattled in the shed. Whoever was inside was coming back toward the doors. He stopped just inside the darkened opening. Nicole froze into position as the man waited and searched the farmstead for movement.

  As Nicole listened to his attempts to calm his struggled breathing, she realized that apprehension had clouded his perceptions. Her crouching form in the long shadow of the shed rendered her invisible even though she could almost have touched him if she’d raised her arm.

  He emerged slowly. First his head and neck, then his shoulders, until he finally stepped into the night. He stopped and waited again before making his next move.

  It was all the time Nicole needed. She shifted in her crouch, used her hands for balance, and lashed out with her feet. Her jackknifed legs coiled for the jolting strike.

  At the sound of her movement, the man turned his head in her direction, but it was too late. Nicole’s leg muscles snapped in their powerful springing motion. Her feet landed with a hard, crunching impact into the man’s hip.

  “Unnghh!” exclaimed the injured man as he was tossed into the air. The trajectory of the blow sent him crashing down onto the gravel driveway.

  Nicole bounded to her feet and fell on the man in fury. She pummeled him until his struggling subsided. She stopped her pounding, and at that moment he made a grab for her. Quickly and smoothly, she snatched his left arm and twisted it violently up behind his shoulder blade. He screamed and pleaded for her to stop.

  “Please, oh God, stop!” he cried.

  “Doug?!” Nicole asked in surprise when she recognized the man’s voice. “What the hell are you doing out here?” she asked as her head turned to look back into the interior of the shed.

  “Christ, lady, don’t…you’re breaking my arm.”

  “And it’ll stay broke,” Nicole warned as she seized him by the scruff of his shirt and hauled him up to his feet. She twisted his wrist and kept the pressure on the arm in a sharp, upward hold. She had no intention of letting him wriggle out of her grasp. The hold would also keep him from contemplating any stupid moves on his part.

  “Now,” she said as she shoved him back toward the cottage. “What the hell are you doing sneaking around this place?”

  “He put me up to it…” Doug Harkner sputtered as Nicole marched him toward the cottage.

  “Who?” What are you talking about?” Nicole asked as the first whiff of smoke reached her nose. “What the…?” Nicole began as her head snapped towards Sally’s house. A wave of thick, flickering orange and blue flame shot up the side of the wall. “You son of a bitch!” Nicole yelled as she shoved Doug’s face into the side of the cottage door.

  Doug collapsed into a heap as Nicole flung him through the open door. She raced inside the cottage to the kitchen while yelling at Sally to wake up. When she couldn’t lay her hands immediately on what she wanted in the kitchen drawers, she ran to her reading lamp in the living room. Nicole ripped the cord from the wall and tore it from the base of the lamp in desperation. She called to Sally again, fear and alarm strengthening her voice. Quickly returning to Doug’s unconscious heap, she tied him securely and dragged his body over to her parked truck.

  Sally came stumbling out of the cottage door as Nicole finished lashing the remaining portion of the cord high and tight to the truck’s bumper.

  “What the hell’s going on?” Sally demanded sleepily.

  “Call nine-one-one. Your house is on fire,” Nicole snapped.

  “Oh, my god!” Sally wailed. “Gwynn Marian!”

  “I’ll get her. Call for help,” Nicole said as she bounded across the yard. “Hurry!”

  Nicole raced toward the house, heedless of the large sharp stones of the driveway. She opened the front door of the house and almost collided with Gwynn Marian coming out.

  Nicole grabbed her and hugged her fiercely. “Are you OK?”

  “I was, but I think you cracked a rib. What’s all the yelling about?”

  “The house is burning, at the back. Go to your Mom. She’s at the cottage. Quickly! She needs you,” Nicole commanded. She ran toward the side of the house where she’d seen the flames. As she rounded the corner, she tripped over an idle cold frame and fell. Her arms jerked out in front of her to protect herself. As she landed, she heard and felt a wrenching in her right arm and snap in her wrist.

  Nicole sat up, clutching her injured arm and shutting her stinging eyes against the pain. In the distance she could hear Sally raising the alarm, screaming for Carl, Martha, and Jake to wake up. The sense of urgency made Nicole rise to her knees and try to stand. She looked at the cold frame that had sabotaged her and saw in the glow of the flames the well pipe stand that Sally used to water the seedlings.

  Nicole lunged toward the pipe. With her good left arm, she twisted the faucet handle open to full force. She looked around for the hose end. It sput-tered and sprayed to life under her feet, and she grabbed at the nozzle and aimed it toward the spreading fire. The two-inch hose jerked and bucked in her grasp as she struggled to subdue the fire.

  The strain caused sharp barbs of pain to spike viciously into her wrist and jolt her wounded shoulder. She gritted her teeth and hung on. As the flames began to drown under the onslaught of the stream of water, Nicole sank to her knees. Suddenly, Sally and Carl Marmer were at her side.

  “Gwynn Marian?” Nicole asked as Carl took the hose from her grasp.

  “Jake’s got her. She’s safe now,” Sally said as she wrapped her arms around Nicole.

  “Ahhggh,” Nicole cried out as Sally grasped her injured shoulder. “I’ve done something to my arm,” she complained.

  “What?”

  “A combination of good intentions and clumsy feet, I think,” Nicole said, wincing.

  “We’ll get it looked at. It’s all right. Everything is going to be all right now. We’re safe,” Sally said as sirens cut t
hrough the night.

  = Chapter 12 =

  Home & Hearth

  An arbor is more than a laced wooden support for grapes or other vine plants. With a little creativity, conscious design, and effort, an arbor can support whatever shade vine you wish to grow and provide a secluded place of privacy. To catch privacy and the cooling breezes of summer, place the open ends so that they offer a natural flow of the predisposed winds. However, if you would enjoy something more elaborate, U, T, or C shapes are also popular.

  As in all things related to the garden, the development of a comfortable shaded arbor is a matter of patience and effort; a minimum of two years will be required to ensure a leafy haven. Arbors are relatively easy to construct but should consist of sturdy, well-sunk posts topped with wooden latticework. Make sure to build the arbor wide enough to allow passage and/or lounging on those hot summer afternoons and nights. You should build the arbor a minimum of eight feet wide and seven feet high. The length of the arbor would be a matter of taste and space available.

  An arbor can provide a wonderful withdrawal to bright foliage and fresh berries. A sweet retreat, it makes a pleasurable and well-earned reward for your labors.

  Groundwork

  On Monday of the following week, as Sheriff Cook pulled his car into the long driveway of Windrow Garden, he could see the bright yellow cab of the Bashor City Lumber Company truck backed up to the west side of Sally Windrow’s house. He smiled to himself at the endurance and fortitude of the people he was pleased to serve. He had good news for the residents of the tiny hilltop community, and he’d made sure that he was the one to deliver it.

  Alighting from his patrol car, Sheriff Cook walked around to the side of the house and spotted Sally talking to the woman he’d been introduced to the night of the fire as Nicole Jeager. He watched as they stood close together, discussing the invoice of materials the wranglers were off-loading from the lumber truck, and he recalled the rumor that had filtered through town. He shook his head, reminding himself that some things were not his concern, and hailed the two women.

  “Sheriff Cook?” Sally said, turning toward the direction of a voice calling her name. She smiled quizzically at him as he approached. “What are you doing out here? You know I don’t have any bakery goods for you anymore,” she chided.

  “Well, now, that’s a real shame, but it never hurts to check on these things. Good morning to you, Ms. Jeager,” he said to the woman standing next to Sally as he nodded his hat.

  “Sheriff,” Nicole acknowledged. “Is everything all right? Or is this a social call?”

  “More than right. I’ve got some very good and interesting news for you,” he said as he pulled a small notebook from his breast pocket.

  “Would you like to speak to Sally, alone?” Nicole offered.

  “No, you can be here, too. I mean, if it hadn’t been for your tackling that ol' boy last week and trussing him up for us, the whole scheme might never have been unraveled. So this involves you,” he affirmed.

  “Involves her how, Sheriff?” Sally asked.

  “Just this. Seems as though that hired hand Ms. Jeager trounced so soundly was pretty anxious not to take the fall for everything by himself. You remember, he told Ms. Jeager here that someone had put him up to it?”

  “Nicole, Sheriff. Yes, I mentioned it to one of your deputies the night of the fire,” Nicole responded.

  “Nicole, then, ma’am. Well, when he found out that he was about to be charged with two counts of felony arson —aggravated assault on your child, Ms. Windrow, because she was in the house when he torched it, and assault and battery on you, Nicole —he decided he wanted to share a lot of information,” Sheriff Cook said as he flipped through the notebook.

  “Who was he working for?” Sally asked.

  “You won’t believe it in a hundred years. I know I didn’t, not at first, but when we brought him in, he just broke down like a cheap shotgun,” Sheriff Cook said, grinning widely at them.

  “Who, Sheriff?” Nicole insisted.

  “Donald Bradley from the bank. I understand he was your gentleman friend, Sally?”

  “Not exactly. We kept company sometimes. And if what you say is true, he’s certainly no friend of mine,” Sally fumed. “Why in the world would he do something like that?”

  “I thought that’s what you’d say. About him not being your friend and all. Seems he’s pretty much of the same idea. As to why he did it, why he encouraged you to hire Doug and put a snake in your garden, well, that’s a little complicated,” Sheriff Cook said, raising an eyebrow.

  “Complicated, how?” Nicole encouraged.

  “It seems as though he had a couple of motives for wanting to hurt you and ruin your farm, Sally. At the moment, he’s madder than hell. Way he tells it, he’s a jilted lover. Seems as though he’s under the impression someone was beating his time,” Sheriff Cook said as he glanced from Sally to Nicole.

  Nicole cleared her throat and gazed steadily back at the Sheriff. “You mean to say that he had Sally’s restaurant burned, set fire to her house, and threatened her child’s life because he was jealous? That’s crazy.”

  “It sure is crazy sounding, but I figure he’s sane enough to stand trial. Of course, his jealousy doesn’t cover everything. Seems the whole idea of getting Sally here in a weak and compromised position with the farm had been on his mind for a long time. And we arrested a third fellow yesterday who we believe to be a part of what’s turning out to be a major conspiracy against Windrow Garden and quite a few others around here. He’s been a very busy boy.”

  “Sheriff, I think I’d like to have some coffee and sit down while I hear the rest of this,” Sally said, her mind a whirl of confusion and wonder. “Let’s go into the house, shall we?”

  “Be my pleasure, ma’am. You wouldn’t happen to have any of those delights you used to bake in there, would you?” he asked, grinning slyly.

  “I think I might be able to find something,” Sally said as she and Nicole escorted the sheriff inside.

  An hour later, Sheriff Cook waved good-bye to Sally and Nicole as he patted a bag of six slices of perfect cheesecake on the car seat next to him. He’d promised her he would share the toffee cream delights with the rest of his staff. It had been a white lie he knew he could afford. He pulled out of the drive and back onto the highway, musing about the detailed paperwork on the case he hoped his detectives were seeing to completion.

  Nicole, Sally, and Gwynn Marian stood together watching the sheriff’s car roll down the hill. Their surprise, wonder, and astonishment at what the sheriff had revealed of the plot against Windrow Garden was still etched across their faces.

  Nicole shook her head as she turned to Sally. “I think that’s one of the most deceitful and greedily malicious things I’ve ever heard of anyone doing. I mean, I knew I didn’t like Bradley, but I had no idea I had a real good reason to hate the man.”

  “You?” Sally chuckled ruefully at the thought of Donald Bradley trying to wine, dine, and bed her to steal her farm from her. “He was loathsome, and he almost got away with it. Him and that highway guy, whatever his name is. I hope they rot,” Sally fumed.

  “Can the state still build the highway, Mom?” Gwynn Marian asked worriedly as fearful concern traced across her fresh youthful brow.

  Sally placed her arm around the girl and held her close. “I don’t think so, dear. And Nicole and I will do everything we can to make sure it doesn’t happen,” Sally said as she looked up into Nicole’s eyes for reassurance.

  “Absolutely. The very least we can do is make sure the newspapers get hold of this and tell each and every sordid little detail. It’s probably time for some good old-fashioned calling on state representatives, county council, and senators, too. We don’t want this swept under any rug. We don’t want to leave any place for anyone, no matter how remotely or innocently involved in this obscene intrigue, to escape the glare of what I intend to turn into one rowdy media event,” Nicole asserted vehemently as she clench
ed her fists. The physical motion of clenching her forgotten sprained wrist made a sharp pain course up her arm. She winced.

  “That’s all well and good, dear,” Sally said as she put her hand around Nicole’s good arm. “But we have a lot more to do right here, right now, and I think we ought to let the sheriff tend to his business and get you back to work here.”

  “OK,” Nicole said, mollified. “It just makes me so angry. I hope they get the bastards and put them where they can’t do anyone any harm ever again.”

  “I have every confidence in the sheriff,” Sally soothed. “Now, I think you and I and Gwynn Marian ought to go see if we’ve got everything we need from the lumber company to fix the back of our home,” Sally said as she steered her two women back toward the house.