Murder on the Poet's Walk, page 20
There were no people hanging around in the lane behind the shops. In fact, it was eerily quiet.
Jane had just passed the rear entrance of the Daily Bread when she heard footsteps in the alley behind her. Someone was running.
She stiffened, waiting for the runner to appear in the lane. The footfalls were heavy. Too heavy to be Farah’s. Was it a villager or an angry visitor from over the mountain?
Some deep-seated instinct warned Jane to prepare for flight, so she pulled her key ring from her pocket. Separating one key from the rest, she edged closer to Edwin’s door and stared down the lane.
The man who rounded the corner moved like a retired linebacker. Tobias Hogg had played football in high school, but that was a long time ago. Since then, age had softened his body and stiffened his joints.
The big man barreled toward Jane, his arms pumping as he ran, His face and neck were pomegranate-red, and his shirt was soaked with sweat.
“Help!” he wheezed. “They’re after me!”
Jane fitted the key into the lock and gestured for him to hurry.
By the time he reached her, Tobias was too winded to talk. He pressed his palm to the brick wall and sucked in great gulps of air.
Jane heard more footsteps in the alley. More people were coming, and they were all running.
She unlocked the door, pulled Tobias inside the building, and slammed the door behind him. She clicked the dead bolt into place and put a reassuring hand on Tobias’s arm.
“You’re safe now. Come sit down. I’ll get you some water.”
Jane hit the light switch inside the commercial kitchen, illuminating the stainless-steel counters. She filled a glass with cold water and gave it to Tobias. She then ran a dish towel under the tap and handed it to him.
As he wiped his face with the towel, he said, “Do you have a phone? I need to call Barbara.”
Jane passed him her phone. “Who’s chasing you?”
“A bunch of people from over the mountain. They came here to see Pig Newton, but he’s home, with Barbara.” He held up a finger, signaling that he needed to pause their conversation. “Barb? Yeah, I’m okay. I was rescued by Jane Steward. She’s letting me hide in Edwin’s café.” He paused to listen and then started shaking his head. “They will come to the house! My brothers are sharing our address for a fee. You and Pig Newton need to get out of there!”
Barbara’s panicked voice burst through the speaker. “Where can I go? I can’t take Pig Newton to your mother’s place. She’ll just tell your brothers!”
Jane knew where Tobias and Barbara lived. Their house was at the end of a narrow road on the hillside, and one could sit on their front porch and look down on the village. It was a peaceful and private place, with only one way in or out. If Barbara left right now, she’d probably run right into her pursuers.
“I have an idea,” Jane told Tobias as she hurried over to the cordless phone on the desk. “Tell Barbara to hold on for a second.”
She punched in a number and was relieved to hear, “Hilltop Stables. Sam speaking.”
“Sam. Thank God. We need a hero on horseback. Pig Newton’s in danger.”
As quickly as she could, Jane explained the situation. Sam was Edwin’s oldest friend. He was a good man with a natural affinity for animals. He had a stable full of horses, most of whom were gentle creatures, because his income came from riding lessons and trail rides. But Sam’s personal horse was a fleet-footed gelding named Samson. If Sam saddled his horse right away, he could race through the woods and beat the crowd to Tobias’s house.
“I’m on my way. Tell Barbara to leave a key under the mat and then drive away like she’s trying to escape. People will follow her car, but Pig Newton won’t be in it. He’ll be with me. I’ll keep him safe until things calm down.”
Jane relayed the plan to Tobias, who passed it on to Barbara. As he returned Jane’s phone, he seized her hands and cried, “I can’t thank you enough. Barbara’s going to meet me at Storyton Outfitters. Do you think it’s safe to go outside?”
“I’d give it a few minutes if I were you.” Jane pulled up Farah’s photo and showed it to Tobias. “This is a long shot, considering how many faces you’ve seen today, but does she look familiar? She’s one of my guests. I came to town to find her.”
Tobias was still on edge. The fear he felt for his partner and his pig wouldn’t abate until he knew they were both safe. But he was in Jane’s debt, so he carefully studied the photograph.
“I think I saw her. The store was so packed—none of our regulars could get in—and I was trying to clear a path for Mrs. Chambers. I was worried someone would knock her over, and the last thing she needs is another broken hip. I got her and her groceries into her car, but she couldn’t back out because a big SUV was blocking her way.” He pointed at Jane’s phone. “The driver had his window down, and that woman was talking to him. It looked like she was offering him money. And she was crying.”
“Then what happened?”
“I shouted at the guy to move his car. He told the woman to get lost and drove off. She ran to another idling car and showed the driver her money again. That’s all I saw. As soon as Mrs. Chambers was able to back out, I went inside to call for help.”
Jane tapped her phone. “Can you show me the post that caused this chaos?”
Tobias opened a browser window, typed a few words, and angled the screen to give Jane a better view. “This is the original Twitter post. It was shared to every social media site. The people with the right number of followers came to see Pig Newton. The rest came to mingle with the celebrities. Personally, I can’t tell the difference.”
“The original post came from PigNewtonNation. The account has been active since June and has thousands of followers. They share your Instagram posts, book news, and photos of Storyton. They’re basically a fan page. And you have no idea who this is?”
“Nope.”
Jane returned to the most recent post and studied the photo. “Did you take this?”
“That’s the craziest thing about this whole thing. I didn’t take that photo. It’s definitely Pig Newton. He has a spot on his nose that looks like a side view of the man in the moon. Another pig might have similar spots, but not the exact same. And since the background is blurry, I can’t tell where this was taken.”
The timing of this post is suspect. Was someone trying to create a diversion? Did they orchestrate an event to bring in a big crowd and put a strain on local law enforcement?
As Jane stared at the image of Tobias’s adorable miniature spotted pig, a thought struck her. She sent a text to the Fins and then drummed her fingers on the counter as she waited for a reply.
Three dots appeared within seconds, but it took much longer for a link and a short list of instructions to appear on her screen.
“I’ll try to find out exactly where this photo was taken. If it was taken in Storyton, then someone you know well posted it or sent it to the person behind PigNewtonNation.”
Tobias stared at her in amazement. “How can you do that?”
“Sterling told me that the EXIF data—whatever that is—would reveal GPS coordinates. Oh, look. Here they are.” Jane copied the coordinates and pasted them into the search bar of Google Maps.
“That’s my house!” Tobias yelled. Pressing his hands to his cheeks, he murmured, “My brothers. They did this. That thing on the ground is a blanket. A few weeks ago, Barbara and I had Mama and my brothers over for supper. Companies keep sending me free stuff that I don’t need and didn’t ask for, but my brothers love freebies, so I invited them over to have their pick. I thought they’d stop being so jealous if they could share in my success.”
Jane could see that Tobias was hurting, but she didn’t have time to console him. She needed to search for Farah before she caught a ride out of town.
“So, one of your brothers took the photo. Did they create the account?”
Tobias let out a derisive snort. “No way. They can barely use the registers at work. My brothers didn’t start that Twitter account, but I bet they know who did.”
Jane’s phone vibrated, and she glanced at the screen. “Sam has Pig Newton, and Barbara’s on her way to get you.”
Tobias was about to hug Jane when he caught sight of his sweaty shirt. Instead, he clasped his hands together and said, “Thank you so much.”
“Now, I need your help. Today’s social media fiasco might be connected to my missing guest. I think she’s trying to buy a ride out of town. She’s desperate, Tobias, and she might be a murderer. That’s why I need you to confront your brothers. I know you don’t want to go back to the store, but you have to get them to cough up a name.”
Though clearly aggrieved, Tobias promised to do as she asked.
Jane grabbed a chef’s coat from the hook by the door and told Tobias to put it on. She then handed him a black bandana.
“Tie that around your head and keep your eyes lowered as you walk. Hopefully, no one will look at you too closely and we’ll get to the market in one piece. If Farah hasn’t found a ride yet, she’ll be hanging around a parking area. We need to move quickly.”
The crowd surrounding the Pickled Pig was noticeably smaller than it had been before. There was no sign of Farah, so Jane followed Tobias to the delivery door at the back of the store.
In the office, Tobias picked up the phone, pressed a button, and said, “Duncan Hogg, please report to the manager’s office. Duncan Hogg, Code Brown.”
“What does that mean?” Jane asked.
“It means that we need to call the sheriff’s department. Duncan has his faults, but he respects officers of the law. It’s the only way I could think of to get him back here.”
Tobias knew his brother well. It wasn’t long before Duncan Hogg was darkening the doorway.
He was about to berate Tobias when he noticed Jane and attempted to rearrange his features into a smile. Because he couldn’t quite force his lips to curve upward, his expression was caught between a snarl and a sneer.
“Ms. Steward! What a surprise. I, uh, I didn’t expect to find you here.”
“I asked Tobias to call you because I’m assisting Sheriff Evans with his investigation. It’s a murder investigation, Mr. Hogg, and you might hold the key to the killer’s identity. We’re running out of time and really need a hero. I’m hoping that hero is you.”
Jane was laying it on thick, but Duncan puffed up with self-importance and said, “Some people consider me to be a leader of this community, so I see it as my duty to help wherever I can.”
Tobias opened his mouth, undoubtedly preparing to rip into his brother, but Jane clamped her hand around his arm and gave him a hard stare. “Show Duncan how the investigation ties to this influx of unexpected visitors.”
“She’s talking about this.” Tobias showed Duncan the photo of Pig Newton. “The authorities can trace where the photo was taken. Someone took this in my house on a Sunday in June. You, Rufus, and Mama were there that day. No one’s in trouble for taking the picture, but Ms. Steward and Sheriff Evans need to know who paid you for it.”
“How did you—?”
Jane didn’t give him a chance to finish. Smiling benevolently, she went on. “Mr. Hogg, there’s nothing wrong with sharing a photo of that precious pig. Nothing at all. The sheriff isn’t interested in the folks who came to see Pig Newton. He only cares about the identity of the person who asked you for that photo. There’s no time to waste. The killer could be out there at this very moment”—she pointed toward the front of the store—“trying to escape!”
Looking a little green, Duncan crossed the room to the wall safe and opened it. His hand shook as he retrieved two scraps of paper and offered it to Jane. “They offered us money for a picture. Rufus didn’t believe that someone could send money through the computer, but I thought we should take a chance. And it worked! I kept copies of the emails. I kept it in case they tried to back out.”
A quick scan of the email left Jane feeling deflated. The sender’s name was a random assortment of letters and numbers and was probably sent using an email server that deleted its messages after twenty-four hours. The messages could probably be retrieved, but going through the correct legal channels to gain access would take days or weeks. They didn’t have that kind of time. They had hours.
“Unfortunately, this doesn’t tell us anything.” Jane’s voice was leaden. “Was this the only communication you received?”
Duncan nodded.
Jane used her phone to snap a photo of the email and sent it to the Fins. She then thanked both Hogg brothers and hurried back outside to search for Farah.
She was heading for the post office parking lot when she heard her phone ping. Sterling had sent her a text that made her stop in her tracks.
Looked up the IP address of the PigNewtonNation’s social media accounts. The geolocation is in Chicago. The accounts were created from a computer at the offices of Current Mood Cards.
Before Jane could unpack the meaning of Sterling’s message, she saw movement across the parking lot. Farah Khan was climbing into the bed of a pickup truck.
Shoving her phone into her pocket, Jane started to run.
Chapter 16
By the time Jane reached the pickup and peered into the bed, Farah was completely hidden under a large canvas tarp. The cab was empty, which meant Farah was planning to hitch a ride out of town without the owner’s knowledge.
After firing off a text to Phoebe, Jane sent one to the Fins.
I found Farah. Waiting for reinforcements before I confront her. Gil came with me. He wanted to help.
Sterling replied, Be sure to bring him back to Storyton Hall. The Current Mood folks have been asked to stay in the Safari Room until the sheriff tells them otherwise. Gil should join them when he gets back.
Jane typed, What about Stephanie?
Deputy Emory didn’t get much out of her, but she thinks she’s hiding something. Sit tight. I’m on my way.
There was no movement from under the tarp, but Jane kept glancing from the tarp to the street and back again.
Finally, she saw Phoebe, Gil, and Mrs. Pratt heading her way. Mrs. Pratt returned her wave and then stepped into the middle of the street. Horns blared, but she raised her hand like a traffic cop and pointed at the pedestrian crosswalk. A silver Porsche kept inching forward and the driver rolled down his window to vent his indignation. Unfazed, Mrs. Pratt beckoned for Phoebe and Gil to cross. Once they were in the clear, she wagged her finger at the driver. He responded by flipping her the bird.
As soon as she was within shouting distance of Jane, Mrs. Pratt bellowed, “Such a bother over one little pig! Don’t people have better things to do? Books to read? Cookies to eat? For heaven’s sake, I’ve never seen such a circus.”
Gil and Phoebe, who were walking so close together that their shoulders touched, exchanged grins.
Jane wanted to pull Phoebe aside and whisper, “Don’t fall for him,” but since Phoebe and Gil were practically joined at the hip, she pointed at the pickup truck behind her instead.
“What do we do now that we’ve found her?” Mrs. Pratt asked sotto voce.
“First of all, we have to be calm. We’re going to talk to her until Sterling gets here. She can’t run with all four of us surrounding the truck bed, but I’d rather not cause a scene—especially since all of these people are looking for something to post on social media. They’re upset because they’ve been denied their moment with Pig Newton. If they see the four of us ganging up on a woman, the truth will be twisted into knots for the sake of a juicy story.”
“She’s right,” said Gil. “All is takes is one video clip, taken out of context, to ruin reputations.”
Phoebe was gazing at Gil like he’d hung the moon while Mrs. Pratt focused her attention on the pickup truck.
“The three of us should spread out around the truck bed,” Jane said, gesturing between herself, Phoebe, and Mrs. Pratt. “Gil? Would you keep an eye out for bystanders and warn me if someone heads our way?”
“You got it,” said Gil.
He really acts like one of the good guys. What if he ends up being a nightmare instead of Phoebe’s dream man? She’ll be devastated.
The thought had barely crossed Jane’s mind when Mrs. Pratt reached into the truck bed and rustled the tarp. In a singsong voice, she said, “Come out, come out, we know where you are. You didn’t fly in on a tornado or fall from a star. You’re a guest from Storyton Hall, so come out, come out, or the sheriff we’ll call.”
Phoebe clapped softly. “Maybe you should’ve entered the greeting card contest.”
Mrs. Pratt was too busy preening to see Farah’s head appear on the opposite side of the truck bed. However, Jane saw the terror etched on the younger woman’s face.
“It’s okay,” she said, holding her hands out in a pacifying gesture. “I just want to talk to you.”
Farah clung to the tarp as if it were a very large security blanket. She whispered something, but Jane didn’t catch it.
“Sorry, but I didn’t hear that.”
After darting a quick glance at Phoebe and Mrs. Pratt, Farah turned to Jane and whimpered, “Please. Please let me go.”
“You know I can’t. Two people are dead, Ms. Khan.”
“And I’ll be next if you don’t let me go!”
Her words gave Jane pause. “What makes you say that?”
Farah stared at her in disbelief. “Either Gretchen or Connor would’ve won the competition. Now that they’re gone, everyone thinks I’ll win. Do you know what that means? It means I’m going to be next. I came here to compete, but I’m not willing to die for the chance!”
“Running away makes you look guilty, Ms. Khan. Do you know what else makes you look guilty? Those jokes you had in your room. The ones Connor wrote?”
Again, Farah looked at Jane like she had two heads. “Why? He read them out loud during our session on writing humor. He made extra copies, so I took one. I was trying to figure out if his words were funny or if it was just his delivery. I stink at writing humor, but it’s not like I was going to plagiarize Connor.”
