Twists and Tears (Hawg Heaven Cozy Mysteries Book 5) Read online

  “He legit? Or was he trying to pull something? Who was it? I probably know his father.”

  “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter, that’s not what this is about. He didn’t have any issues with his friend. When they went to the friend’s house, the dog went nuts again, and was trying to get into the pigpen.”

  Tom let out a breath and took a huge swig of tea. “I see where this is going,” he muttered, glowering.

  “Anyway, the boys stood up on the fence to try and see what Barney was barking at, and Ryan spotted something sticking out of the ground,” Rossie bit her lip, remembering how her son had trembled when he told her about it.

  “What?”

  “A toe. A man’s big toe, with a torn blue sock.”

  Tom nodded. “That’s not as strange as it sounds,” he said grimly.

  “What?” Rossie was astonished.

  “Anybody who’s grown up in the country knows that if you want to get rid of a body, you throw it in the pigpen.”

  “How does that get rid of it? Because they poop on top of it?” she grimaced.

  “No. They eat it. Pigs will eat just about anything you throw in the pigpen, and they do it in a frenzy, so it goes away quick,” the biker explained.

  “Even humans?” Rossalyn swallowed hard, putting down her cookie.

  “Bones and all.”

  “That’s gross. I can’t even think about it. But the guy that they found didn’t get eaten. How could that be?”

  “Maybe he didn’t taste good,” Tom speculated.

  “That’s not funny,” Rossie frowned.

  “Wasn’t meant to be. Animals can sense things. Maybe there was something wrong with the guy’s flesh. Cancer, probably.”

  “They can sense that?” she was incredulous.

  “Ever smell bad meat?” Tom challenged.

  “Okay, I get it. But anyway, Rye is pretty shaken up. He’s never seen anyone dead, not even…” she trailed off, unable to say the words.

  “Not even his dad?”

  Rossie nodded. “They never recovered his body. It’s somewhere in Afghanistan.”

  Tom’s jaw tightened imperceptibly. “So he’s pretty messed up after seeing this dead guy?”

  “Well, thankfully Morgan brought him to the café before they dug him out, so all Ryan saw was the toe, but he was still pretty traumatized.”

  Rossie was nibbling on her cookie and hadn’t seen the biker stiffen at the mention of the cop.

  “So, what do you need?” he asked.

  “I hate to impose…” she began.

  “If the kid needs something, he needs something. What is it?” Tom brushed away her concerns.

  “I just… I don’t know. I hate leaving him alone in the mornings and after school, while I’m at work, and…”

  “Don’t worry, I’ve been keeping an eye out anyway.”

  “You have?” Rossie’s heart beat a bit faster.

  “Yeah. I don’t know who’s around, or why, but something is definitely going on.”

  “Oh.” Disappointed for some unfathomable reason, she stuffed an entire cookie in her mouth.

  Tom looked at her intently, and she instantly regretted stuffing her face, so she put her hand in front of her mouth to hide the bulge of her cheeks as she chewed, blushing all the while.

  “More?” he asked, holding the cookie box out to her.

  Honesty won out over modesty and she nodded, mouth too full to speak. She closed her eyes for a moment, hearing the cookies falling out onto the delicate china, and for just a moment, she was in her mother’s kitchen, tears stinging behind her eyelids.

  “You okay?” she dimly heard Tom’s voice over the rhythmic sound of her teeth crushing the cookie to bits, but she nodded and opened her eyes, blinking rapidly. Washing the cookie down with a swig of fragrant tea, she took a breath and pasted on a smile, hoping that she didn’t have chocolate cookie in her teeth.

  Rossalyn stared down at the cookies that he’d just placed on her plate, her hands wrapped around the china cup.

  “Want those to go?” Tom asked, his voice as gentle as she’d ever heard it.

  Rossie nodded, unable to speak for a moment.

  The biker took a small plastic baggie with a zip closure, and shook the cookies into it from her plate. “Miss your mom?” he asked casually, not looking at her, but focusing on the mechanics of wrapping up her cookies.

  Tears fell unbidden, slowly streaking their way to her chin. “So much,” she admitted, bowing her head and hiding behind her long dark hair.

  “Me too,” was the unexpected reply. “This house… the reason I keep it like this… it reminds me of her. She was the only person who ever believed in me, and she loved me right up until she passed,” Tom said in a low voice. “You still have yours. Go see her, send her a text, call her up just to hear her voice. It’s a privilege that you don’t want to waste.”

  The biker stood at her side as she wiped her eyes, just gazing down at her with a look that she couldn’t decipher.

  “I will,” she nodded, wiping her eyes. “I’ll call her tonight. I’m sorry, I…” she took a tissue out of her pocket and wiped her nose with it.

  “No apologies,” he said, handing her the cookies so that she’d have to look up at him.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, standing.

  Tom didn’t move, and when she stood, they were nearly toe to toe, her clutching her cookies.

  “You’re welcome.” His husky voice held none of the gruff tone that seemed to be ever present.

  She looked up into those stunning blue eyes, her face inches from his, and felt a flush beginning to creep up her neck, to her ears and beyond. Tom inclined his head ever so slightly, and both of them jumped when the sound of shattering glass pierced the night.

  “What was that?” Rossalyn exclaimed, eyes wide with fear, clutching the front of his t-shirt without realizing it.

  “Get down, and stay here for a second. I’ll go check,” he covered her hand briefly with his before releasing it and moving quickly toward the living room, where the sound had come from.

  Rossie dropped to her knees and immediately texted Ryan.

  I went over to see Mr. Hundman. I’ll be bringing you some cookies in a few minutes.

  She hit send and closed her eyes, waiting for the response that would let her know that her son was okay.

  Mr. Hundman has cookies? was the reply that caused her to nearly faint with relief.

  Yep, see you soon.

  K.

  Tom came striding back into the room with a rock in his hand.

  “Someone threw a rock through your window?” Rossie asked, frowning. “Why on earth would someone do that?”

  “I have a few ideas,” Tom said grimly. “Let me walk you home.”

  “Oh, I’ll be okay, it’s just across the alley,” Rossalyn suddenly felt nervous and awkward.

  “Suit yourself,” Tom agreed, seeming distracted, his gruff exterior firmly back in place.

  “Thanks for the cookies and tea.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  The biker went to the door and held it open for her, a faraway look in his eyes.

  “Do you need help cleaning up glass or anything?” Rossie stopped in front of him, staring up into his eyes.

  He avoided her gaze.

  “Nah, I’m good. The boy needs you,” he stepped back just a bit.

  “Yeah, he does,” Rossie bit her lip and went out the door. “Thanks again, Tom. You’re a good neighbor.”

  “Don’t mention it,” was the distracted reply as he shut the door behind her.

  She wasn’t sure, but felt that he watched her until she was safely inside her own back door.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  * * *

  Rossalyn was astounded by the traffic coming through her quaint little barbeque café. The crowds had been lined up when she came in at five-thirty this morning, and had stayed heavy all day. She’d had to call and make an emergency order to two of her pro
duct suppliers so that they didn’t run out of food. The shelves had been wiped clean of all Hawg Heaven merchandise again, and sales were through the roof. It was a good problem to have, but Rossie was seriously considering hiring more staff. She, José, and Garrett just couldn’t handle this kind of pace seven days a week.

  Needless to say, the hard-working mother was more than distracted when her teenage son came charging in, weaving through tables and customers to get to where she stood at the cash register.

  “Hey, Rye. How was school?” she asked, while processing a credit card.

  “Weird, but whatever,” he seemed excited. “I have to tell you something.”

  “Okay, but it’ll take me a few minutes,” Rossalyn inclined her head toward the handful of people who were waiting to pay their checks.

  “Cool. Can I go back and see what José is doing?”

  “Of course. Hey, wash up, he could probably use an extra set of hands back there.”

  “I will,” Ryan called over his shoulder, on his way to the kitchen.

  More than twenty minutes later, Rossie was finally able to make her way back to the kitchen, where Ryan was shredding cheddar cheese for the daily special.

  “Okay, Rye. Sorry that took so long. What’s up?” Rossie asked, keeping an eye on the dining area.

  “Well two things,” her son answered, keeping his eyes on the grater so that he didn’t add fresh human meat to the mix. “First, the uh… you know… person that Dylan and I found in the pigpen…”

  “Yeah,” his mother prompted.

  “It was Dylan’s dad. Dylan wasn’t in school today and everybody was talking about it,” he confided quietly.

  “Oh gosh, that’s awful,” Rossie gave him her full attention. “That poor kid.”

  “Yeah, so… I was wondering… you know how you sometimes take food to people who need it?” Ryan asked. “I was thinking maybe we could take some stuff to Dylan and his mom. I think they could probably use some food, you know?”

  “Sure, of course we can do that,” Rossalyn nodded, filled with pride at her son’s compassion.

  “Cool. Oh, and the other thing… Butch Clemmons posted on his website that the Hawg Heaven show was going to air tonight, and he’s going to have a contest. People send in their receipts from eating here, and they have a chance to win a bunch of stuff. The grand prize is this massive motorcycle. A bunch of kids at school, who never talked to me before, came up and said how cool it was that you were, like, famous or something.”

  Realization dawned. “Ohhh… that’s why we’ve been so busy. People have to eat here to enter the contest. Wow, that’s brilliant,” she smiled, thinking of Butch Clemmons’s generosity. “How long does the contest last?”

  “Six months I think, and people can send in as many receipts as they want.”

  Rossalyn raised her eyebrows. “Six months? Oh my, I’m going to have to get some help in here.”

  “I’ll help,” Ryan shrugged. “Butch said he might even come in again if he’s in the area.”

  “I know you’ll help, but I’m not getting busted for underage workers, so I’m going to have to hire more people,” Rossie chuckled.

  “Oh yeah, there was one other thing.”

  “Wow, on top of everything else? What?”

  “You lost your necklace. Barney found it stuck between the boards on the porch, so I put it on your nightstand.”

  “My necklace?” Rossalyn was puzzled. “I don’t wear necklaces when I’m working.”

  “Well, maybe you lost it a long time ago and just forgot.”

  “Maybe so. Well, I’ll have to give Barney an extra treat for finding it.”

  “Yeah, he’ll like that,” Rossie saw the first ghost of a smile playing about Ryan’s lips since Dylan’s dad’s body had been discovered. Thank goodness the news of Butch Clemmons’s promotion was making things easier for him at school.

  ***

  Rossie was exhausted at the end of the day, but she was determined to take Dylan’s family a box of hot, fresh food, so José and Garrett agreed to take care of cleanup for her. Leaving a ‘Help Wanted’ sign in the front window, she and Ryan lugged big boxes of various meats, sides, and cornbread to the car. When mother and son pulled into the narrow, dusty lane that wound its way between patches of corn and a large vegetable garden, and Rossie caught sight of the shabby, tired-looking farmhouse, she understood why Ryan had supposed that the family might need food.

  “Is this the right place?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” Ryan nodded, unable to take his eyes off of the pigpen, which, at the moment was cordoned off with police tape. “Is it weird that we’re doing this, Mom? Do you think they’ll be mad?”

  “Well, you never know how people are going to react when they’ve been through something difficult, but I know after your dad died, it really helped to have food in the refrigerator so we didn’t have to cook. If they’re uncomfortable, we’ll just give them the food and leave.”

  “Okay. What do I say to Dylan, though?”

  “I don’t know. What did you want your friends to say to you?”

  “Nothing. I just wanted to play video games and forget about everything until everybody was gone,” Ryan shrugged, remembering.

  “Then maybe you can do that.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  They went to the door carrying the boxes of food, and knocked, unable to find a doorbell. A woman who looked to be a few years older than Rossie, with puffy, red eyes, answered the door with a weary and somewhat frightened look, which turned to confusion when she saw them.

  “Help ya?” she asked, looking back and forth from mother to son.

  “Hi. I’m Rossalyn Channing. My son Ryan is a friend of Dylan’s. I’m so sorry for your loss. We brought some food for the family, but if there’s anything else that I can do to help, please let me know.”

  Dylan’s mom nodded awkwardly, her mouth tightening as she tried to maintain control. Rossalyn guessed that she didn’t cry easily.

  “Come on in, we’re much obliged for the food. Goodness knows I ain’t felt much like cooking. I’m Elsa Carnes,” she led them into the house and toward the kitchen.

  The interior was dark and shabby, each piece of furniture having been selected decades ago, strictly for its utility value. The linoleum in the kitchen was cracked and peeling in places, and the walls were colored by time and cooking.

  “Y’all can just set those down over here, and I’ll unpack ‘em,” Elsa gestured to a small stretch of scratched and stained countertop between the sink and the refrigerator. Young man, Dylan is up those stairs over there,” she pointed. “He’s in his room listenin’ to I-don’t-know-what kind of trash music.”

  “Thanks,” Ryan said uncertainly, looking toward his mother. Rossalyn nodded slightly and inclined her head toward the stairs, so he moved in that direction.

  “If you boys are hungry, just let us know,” Rossie called after him, then helped unload the boxes, handing various containers to Elsa to put in the refrigerator. “How are you holding up?” she asked tentatively.

  “As good as I can, I suppose. Ain’t gonna be easy runnin’ this place with just me and the boys, I’ll tell you that,” she shook her head.

  “Such a tragedy to lose a husband. Mine died nearly a year ago,” Rossie murmured.

  “You don’t know the half of it. Whoever murdered that no-count, boozin’ husband of mine stole my livelihood. Ain’t no way we’re gonna survive out here now,” Elsa sighed, arranging food containers in the fridge.

  “Your husband was murdered?” Rossalyn’s eyes widened.

  “In cold blood. Shot right through the head. Whoever did it probably wanted the pigs to eat the evidence, but they didn’t know. Ole Warner Carnes was so pickled by alcohol that even pigs wouldn’t touch his carcass.”

  “So you don’t know who did it?”

  “Heck no, goodness only knows who he coulda crossed while he was on one of his binges. Didn’t have no friends to speak of. No en
emies neither, now that I think on it. Folks just kept their distance from him. From us too,” she grimaced. “Ain’t no fun at all bein’ the wife of the town drunk.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Rossie shook her head. “Do you feel safe, being out here in the country all alone after what happened?”

  “I figure whoever done it was aimin’ for Warner, not for the rest of us, so we’ll be fine, whatever he did. Don’t much matter anyhow I guess. I don’t know how we’re gonna make it.”

  “Was there any life insurance money that could help you?” Rossie asked hopefully.

  “Pshhh… life insurance? Who’s got money for that kind of stuff? We were doing everything we could just to keep the lights on, and he gambled away anything that I couldn’t hide from him,” Elsa rolled her eyes, disgusted.

  Rossie was spared from having to answer by the sounds of two sets of teenaged feet tromping down the squeaky wooden stairs.

  “We brought ribs and potato salad, right?” Ryan asked, coming down first.

  “Lots of both,” his mother replied.

  “Good, they’re Dylan’s favorite, so we’re gonna have some, if that’s okay.”

  “Course it’s okay, we may be poor as dirt, but ain’t nobody leaving my house hungry,” Elsa declared, pulling two of the containers of food and a large pitcher of iced tea out of the fridge.

  ***

  It was only nine o’clock by the time Rossalyn and Ryan got home from the Carnes’ farm, but Ryan was sound asleep in the passenger seat, and Rossie was singing softly along with the radio to stay awake. It had been an emotionally and physically exhausting day for both of them, but each had felt good about bringing a little bit of comfort to the grieving family. There was something to be said about helping others… it helped put things into perspective. Both mother and son were profoundly grateful for the life that they had, particularly upon realizing that not everyone was so fortunate.

  Knowing how exhausted her son was, Rossie took Barney out one last time before he made the trip upstairs to Ryan’s room where he was supposed to be sleeping on his large doggie bed in the corner. Funny how every time she went by to check on her slumbering son, that dog managed to be curled up beside him. She supposed that she should be upset at Ryan for breaking the no-dogs-in-bed rule, but she knew full well how it felt to have the warmth of another loving, living being by your side, hearing the comforting rise and fall of their breathing. She couldn’t very well begrudge him that pleasure.