Free TheCart Before the Corpse by Carolyn McSparren Page B

however, he might take off for parts unknown.
    Except that would really make him look guilty.
    We spent the next hour walking over the dressage arena and the land. It was truly beautiful. Even this early, the pastures were lush green, mostly lespedeza, although I saw some timothy and Bermuda. They’d need cutting in less than a month if we had normal spring rainfall.
    The peak of the hill I’d driven up did indeed look as though it had at some point been flattened by a giant’s palm. Hiram’s land undulated gently into old growth trees and tall pines along the edges. “What’s over there?” I asked, pointing beyond the arena toward a thick stand of hardwoods.
    “Mostly woods. Hiram did not own but to the second tree line. Past that tree line is another hundred or so acres. More hills. Many more trees. A couple of streams in the valley. Pretty, but not for a horse farm.”
    By the time we’d finished exploring, the horses were ready for dinner, so I helped Jacob bring them in and feed them. Except for the bales in the aisles ready to be fed, most of the hay was stored in a lean-to shed behind the old barn, and the manure pile, always necessary in any horse operation, was on the far side of the barn away from the path and out of the way.
    Jacob had indeed cleaned the stalls and filled the water buckets. He had not, however, swept the center clay aisle free of bits of hay. Hiram liked his aisles swept twice a day. I could hear him in my head as clear as though he were standing beside me with a rake in his hand. “Unmade bed, a clean house looks messy. Unswept aisle, a clean stable looks dirty.” I turned away so that Jacob couldn’t see me blink back tears.
    The heck with the aisle. I’d make certain Hiram swept it tomorrow morning. I couldn’t take much more today.
    “Where did Hiram keep the records and his log books?” I asked as I dropped the last flake of hay into Heinzie’s stall. “I haven’t seen any filing cabinets. Not even a desk.”
    “Not in the workshop?”
    “I’ll check tomorrow.” If there were any file cabinets or boxes for papers in the old barn, I hadn’t noticed them, but then, I’d been concentrating on the area around the vis-à-vis. I didn’t have time to open the barn again now. I was worn out and dirty, and I was taking Peggy to dinner in Mossy Creek. I started to ask Jacob what he’d be doing for dinner, but thought better of it.
    “I go to Bigelow,” he said as he followed me to my truck. “After I am washed.” He pointed across the horse pasture to the trees where I could glimpse the corner of what must be his trailer. “I do not cook.” Then he leered.
    Obviously, somebody cooked. Female for sure. Probably where he went on the weekends to get drunk.
    “Do you check the horses at night?”
    “I let them out after they eat.”
    “Good.” Hiram had taught me that the more time horses spent out in pasture, the healthier they stayed. I climbed into my truck and reached for the ignition.
    “Hey,” Jacob said.
    I let my hand drop.
    “You are not so stupid about horses.” He stalked away.
    Had I just received a compliment? Probably as close as Jacob Yoder ever came to giving one. The Amish are not noted for bitterness and bad temper. What had happened to turn him into a curmudgeon? A felonious curmudgeon at that.
     

Chapter 10
     
    Monday evening
    Geoff Wheeler
     
    Geoff Wheeler clicked his briefcase shut and locked his desk. He was more than ready to go home. He hated Monday paperwork days when he seldom left his office. He’d even brought his lunch from home.
    When he rotated his skull, the muscles of his neck popped like old silk tearing. He needed an hour in the gym but didn’t have the energy. All he wanted was a thick steak, a big salad and a glass of good red wine, all of which waited for him at his apartment. As he rounded the desk, his phone rang.
    He didn’t even bother to swear. “Wheeler,” he said when he picked up.
    “Got your back,” Amos