Part 18 (1/2)

But this time, oddly enough, Ray didn't seem to think so. ”I'm more interested in your friend, Leslie. I'm going to talk to her.”

”About what?”

”About the fact that her driver's license says she's a male, not a female.”

”That's not a crime, is it?”

”No, Jolene, it's not a crime.”

”If you pull in her driveway, you're going to scare her to death.”

”Only if she's guilty of something.”

”Ray, everyone slows down when they see a sheriff's car behind them on the highway, even when they're not speeding. Everyone stops to look when a sheriff's car drives down their street. A sheriff's car in her driveway will scare her. She'll think you're coming with bad news or something.”

”So what's your suggestion?”

”Come pick me up, and we'll ride out there together in the Lexus. I'll introduce you to her.” Leslie was my new friend. I couldn't sic Ray on her without feeling guilty. This way, I could help frame the questions and draw some conclusions about her for myself. Because Ray was right about me as usual, I did like playing amateur detective. Cory and Danny would never miss me.

Ray's tone turned sarcastic. ”And what reason will we give for stopping by?”

I thought for a moment. ”Fresh brown eggs.”

The country roads leading to the Flynn farm curved and tilted and rolled up and down and all around. Ray swooped through every turn and rocketed over every hill, clearly enjoying the opportunity to drive my Lexus. At times we were airborne, and Ray would let out a little whoop like he was enjoying the thrill ride. I, on the other hand, felt carsick.

We pa.s.sed a Mennonite farmhouse. I knew this because of the lack of electrical wiring to the house, the black buggy parked in front of the barn, and the long line of ankle-length, flowered-print dresses, blue jeans, and dress s.h.i.+rts on their laundry line. A quarter mile farther down the road, I spotted the farmer running his tractor in the field. He waved from the cab of his tractor when I looked at him. He wore a black hat even inside the cab. I wondered, as I often had, why tractors were acceptable to them while a car was not.

I asked Ray.

”They lead a simple life. I think cars are considered distracting, showy, and unnecessary.”

Id never make it in their world. Neither would Ray.

Leslie's family farm overlooked the lake with a magnificent view of both the water and the hills surrounding it. Their white Victorian home with black shutters and covered porches on the front and side had very little adornment other than electrical wires, but perhaps that was due to the time of year. It also had no landscaping. The gra.s.s grew to the home's edges and a couple feet up the sides, brown with the onset of winter. Their driveway was gravel and mud. The red barn to the right of the house listed to one side. The steel barn behind it held most of the cows, while farm equipment rusted in between the steel structure and another low, ramshackle building covered with tar paper. Brown pastures fenced with barbed wire reached far back into the property.

Horse droppings lined the road ab.u.t.ting the Flynn's front yard. Perhaps a gift from their neighbor and one of the negatives a.s.sociated with the Mennonites' simple horse and buggy life.

As Ray pulled into the drive, I pointed with glee to the sign at the end of the drive offering fresh brown eggs for two dollars a dozen.

He rolled his eyes and parked behind the black Ford 4x4 in the driveway. The bed of the truck was filled with buckets, bags, tools including a hoe and an axe, and clumps of hay. A hunting rifle hung in the rear window. Clearly, this was Leslie's work vehicle, unlike the s.h.i.+ny yellow Mustang, which was nowhere in sight.

We climbed out of the Lexus and stood, waiting for someone to greet us.

A thin gray dog the size of a miniature horse appeared from the barn and trotted closer, sniffing our pant legs. Ray reached down to give him a pat on the head. The dog bounded away, snarling then barking an alarm.

”Quiet you!” A screen door slammed behind us. Leslie walked toward us, wearing her Carhartts and work boots, minus the new wig and makeup. She flashed her newly veneered smile.

”Hey, Jolene. Never mind Rufus. He's just a grump.” She sized Ray up, her gaze lingering on his gun holster. ”Who's your friend?”

”This is my husband, Ray Parker.”

Ray held out his hand. Leslie wiped hers on her pant leg before shaking with him.

I flashed my best saleswoman smile at her. ”I told Ray you had fresh brown eggs. We thought we might buy a dozen.”

Leslie glanced from my face to Ray's and back again, seeming puzzled. ”Never had one before?”

”I don't think so. We buy the white ones at the grocery store.”

Something I thought might be doubt twinkled in the back of Leslie's eyes, but she took a few steps in the direction of the barn. ”If you two want to wait here, I'll get you a carton.”

”Okay, thanks.”

Ray turned to study the house, the fields, and the barn that Leslie had disappeared into. ”This is a big farm. They must have help.”

”I think she said they did, but ask her.”

He leaned against the Lexus. ”I will.”

I took a deep breath. ”Something smells.”

Ray grinned. ”Everyone thinks cow manure smells, but they haven't smelled chicken s.h.i.+t. And chicken coops run a close second to hog farming.”

”You should know.” I chucked him in the arm.

”Nice, Darlin', really nice. I'm glad you've got your sense of humor back.”

I hadn't realized I'd lost it.

I shuffled my feet in the gravel and wondered how long Leslie would take to retrieve the eggs. ”I thought Leslie would have on her new wig and makeup. She was so excited about it yesterday. She looks like her old self today, except for her teeth.”

Ray shrugged. ”She's back on the farm. If you hadn't called her Leslie, I would have thought she was a man.”

”She has b.r.e.a.s.t.s. I could tell when she hugged me the other day. She doesn't have any facial hair.”

”Her license says different.” Ray continued to lean against the Lexus, his eyes glued to an enormous brown brick of manure mixed with hay drying on the far side of the barn.

”Why are you looking at that?”

He eased off the Lexus. ”I was just thinking that's one place I'd never want to dig for a body.”

Ew.

He went on, ”Although, with the lack of oxygen in that pile, the body would probably be perfectly preserved.”

Double ew. Was he trying to tell me something? ”You don't have any reason to search the premises, do you?”

”No, I don't.” But he continued to survey the area as though trying to think of one. ”Tell her you'd like to meet her brother.”

”Okay.”