Swan with the Wind (Bought-the-Farm Mystery Book 9) Read online

  Swan With the Wind

  Ellen Riggs

  Free Fun Story!

  Can this sleuthing sheepdog solve a riddle in time to save a missing cat?

  Ivy, Edna and Gertie team up with Keats and Percy to outwit a wily catnapper in this EXCLUSIVE Bought-the-Farm story. Join Ellen Riggs’ author newsletter today to receive The Cat and the Riddle FREE at Ellenriggs.com

  Swan With the Wind

  Copyright © 2021 Ellen Riggs

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means without the prior written permission of the author.

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN 978-1-989303-74-0 eBook

  ISBN 978-1-989303-73-3 Book

  ASIN B08W75VCDK Kindle

  ASIN TBD Paperback

  Publisher: Ellen Riggs

  www.ellenriggs.com

  Cover designer: Lou Harper

  Editor: Serena Clarke

  2106162118

  Contents

  Title Page

  Free Fun Story

  Copyright

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  What's Next

  Newsletter Signup

  New Series!

  Recipes

  More Fun

  Chapter One

  Runaway Farm had never looked more scenic and serene than it did on the morning I had to leave it behind. There were pale pink apple blossoms in the orchard, purple wildflowers in the meadow, chartreuse buds on the trees and green lawns studded with aggressively golden dandelions. Only an important mission could make me give up this fragrant slice of heaven after a brutal winter.

  I strolled around the pastures with Keats, my sheepdog, and Percy my fluffy marmalade cat. Soon the place would swarm with people and I wanted to soak in the silence for as long as I could. Not that a farm was ever really silent. Right now, the bleating of the new baby goats competed with the braying of the donkey thugs. In the barn, Clippers, the miniature horse, gave a shrill whinny to get my attention. There was never enough of me to go around and sometimes that weighed on me. Especially when I was going to become an absentee farmer for the next week or two.

  As excited as I was about my road trip with Jilly, I was already homesick. Farm-sick, I supposed. The thought made me smile. A year ago, I spent my days in a corporate tower firing people in my human resources job. Coming home to Clover Grove had never been in my plans, let alone taking over a hobby farm and inn. Life had delivered some hard punches and sweet kisses since then. Overall, I called it a win.

  “Boys, there’s something missing here,” I said, staring around at the gorgeous property. “We need a pond. A sweet sapphire pond for ducks and frogs. And goldfish! Imagine seeing flashes of orange coming out of the depths.”

  Keats, my normally chatty dog, said nothing. I looked down to find him glaring at me with his eerie blue eye. His warm brown eye had grown chilly, too. The only thing my fearless border collie hated more than his winter coat was water, whether that came in the form of rain showers, a bath or the swamps that pocked the local terrain. We’d stumbled into a few fetid bogs and it never ended well. The dog shook himself from head to toe as if to dispel the memory and Percy gave a plaintive meow. The two often differed but on this they agreed fully.

  “Just a thought,” I said. “You know it’s only a matter of time before the Rescue Mafia dumps waterfowl on us. I’m surprised it hasn’t happened already.”

  The band of pet rescuers from nearby Dorset Hills had already placed many critters in need here. It wouldn’t shock me to come home and find a rhinoceros in a pasture they’d built on the fly. Ducks would be the least of my troubles.

  Keats gave one of his odd mumbles and it carried a note of alarm. He ran this farm with an iron paw and the only person who got around him was Cori Hogan, a tiny tyrant of a dog trainer who led the Rescue Mafia. Keats’ blind adoration of Cori allowed her to make regular and unauthorized deposits in our farm bank. If she showed up with waterfowl, he’d change his opinion on ponds pronto.

  The dog’s mumble morphed into a grumble. Apparently, his love for Cori did have limits. He’d take the rhino over the pond any day.

  “A farm needs ducks, that’s all I’m saying. Quacking adds to the ambiance. But since you feel strongly, we’ll leave it in the hands of fate.” I smiled and then sighed. Fate had given my butt a kicking since I rescued Keats from a criminal and left the city for farm country. Clover Grove might look like a watercolor painting but there were shadows I’d never seen as a child. Bodies had practically been strewn in my path since my return. It was like fate had been waiting for me.

  For us. Keats was my partner in crime-solving and his instincts improved every day. We had plenty of backup from Percy, along with my best friend, Jilly Blackwood, and octogenarian preppers Edna Evans and Gertie Rhodes. Not to mention my boyfriend, Kellan Harper, chief of police, and my brother Asher, also a cop. There was a terrific team here and I was a little nervous about the trip ahead. Jilly’s grandmother had resurfaced recently to say she felt uneasy in her upscale gated retirement community. All Jilly could discern was that a new arrival—a vicious swan—was menacing the residents. Keats’ wary blue eye told me there was more to the story. Either way, going down south to help was the right thing to do.

  It was a long drive to the Briar Estates, and perhaps Jilly would be more forthcoming about her family on the way. She’d never said much about her past and I didn’t press her. I’d been reticent to discuss family, too, until we were overrun with my unruly clan. Jilly managed the many shades of Galloway better than I ever could and was adored by my brother. It was likely just a matter of time before she officially became one of us.

  Strolling from pasture to pasture, I said goodbye to my favorites. Of course, they were all my favorites. Some were more challenging than others, and that only made them more special. It meant I needed to put in extra time studying their unique personalities. My goal was to make every animal under my care feel safe, valued and happy.

  Keats gave his classic sneeze of laughter that basically said, “Knock yourself out.” He had bigger priorities than coddling barnyard divas.

  The roar of an ATV ended my rumination. Edna Evans was rolling through the fields at top speed burning off some morning steam. Eight months ago, she spent most of her time in a recliner or spying on me from her living room window. Now she’d revealed herself as a prepper and rode around in fatigues in case the apocalypse arrived without warning. She still did what she called routine surveillance on the farm, but also helped me with both livestock and criminals. In short, there was no one bette
r to hold the reins at Runaway Farm in my absence.

  She hopped down from the ATV with impressive ease, pulled off her helmet, and patted her gray perm. “I’m still annoyed at being left out of this road trip, Ivy. In case you’re wondering.”

  “Good morning to you, too,” I said, leaning my back against the camelid pasture fence and crossing my arms. “If you came with us, I’d spend the whole time worried about the farm. I’ll be able to focus on Jilly’s gran’s problem knowing this place is in your capable hands.”

  “You’ve got an army to run the farm,” she said, pouting. “Meanwhile, you and Jillian may be at risk. Without me, you’re babes in the woods.”

  “We’re neither naïve nor alone,” I said. “Keats is our secret weapon.”

  “How do you know his so-called magic will work outside Clover Grove?”

  “Because it worked in Boston. Edna, we’ll be fine. Jilly’s gran lives in a gated retirement community. How dangerous could it be?”

  Edna gestured from her ATV to her fatigues. “If you’re suggesting retirees are harmless, think again. Plenty of us have incredible second innings.”

  “These are more typical seniors,” I said. “You and Gertie didn’t retire to gated communities.”

  She waggled silvery eyebrows at me. “That’s where they’ll come first, you know.”

  “Who? The zombies?”

  “Creatures who thrive in lawless times. The first rule of survival is to keep moving. No gates. No routine. Leave the enemy guessing.”

  “Well, I’m actually looking forward to spending time behind this particular gate. There’s a store, a café, a pub and even a spa.” I looked at my shabby nails, knowing they were beyond redemption. “It’ll be great to kick back for a few days. Jilly really needs this.”

  Edna puckered her permanently puckered lips a bit more. “True. She’s losing her looks.”

  “That’s a terrible thing to say! Jilly is gorgeous.”

  “She’s been wilting like an old rose, Ivy. Her color is gone and so is her spark.”

  I stared at her, wondering if I’d missed the signs. “If that’s true, seeing her family will surely help.”

  “Family is more of a liability than a comfort, remember. Or has your tune changed?”

  “Not really. If the zombies get me, it will be because I stopped to deal with my mother.”

  Mom was in a state over the recent return of my father, Calvin, after a decades-long absence. They had silently agreed to give each other space and rarely ended up here at the same time. Since Calvin was an experienced farmhand and I needed help, Mom was staying at her apartment in town to do therapeutic sewing. I still wasn’t sure what to make of Calvin, but it was nice not having to share a roof with my mother full-time.

  “Exactly,” Edna said. “The Calvin drama kept you from noticing Jilly fading before your very eyes. I wouldn’t be surprised if things fall apart between her and your brother.”

  “That will never happen. He adores her.”

  “No doubt about that, but she’s questioning if he’s up to the job of protecting her.”

  “He’s a cop, Edna. Of course, he can protect her.”

  “Your hotstuff cops can’t keep you safe from your own families. They’re the insidious enemy we can’t escape.” She tapped her temple. “Because they’re in here. Attacking from behind whatever gates we’ve built.”

  The truth of her words struck me. Memories were the enemy. Nothing disabled me faster than thinking about the past, and while I’d made great strides there was no wiping the slate totally clean.

  “All the more reason for this trip,” I said. “Jilly needs a chance to make peace with her past. You’ve done it, I’m doing it now, and it’s her turn.”

  Edna nodded. “Before there’s peace there’s war, and that’s why I should be riding with you. I thought you said we were—”

  “Real family. Chosen family. Yes. But in this instance I need to put my furred and feathered family first, Edna.” I gestured to the driveway, where vehicles were pouring in. There was Bridget Linsmore’s lime green van, containing members of the Rescue Mafia, Gertie’s white van, Charlie’s pickup, a few sedans, and at the end, a police SUV. “Someone has to keep these people in line.”

  Her chin lifted as if someone had placed an invisible crown on her wiry curls. “I’m the CFO,” she said. “The Chief Farm Officer.”

  “Exactly. And your special mission, if you choose to accept it, is to figure out why Drama Llama and the thugs are so agitated. They’ve been calmer lately but they’re milling around today. You might want to cycle Byron through here.”

  “Which one is he? Honestly, Ivy, I have too much going on upstairs to remember the names you assign. It’s worse than the roster in my school vaccination program.”

  “Byron is the livestock guardian dog who hangs with the pig. If there’s a predator riling the donkeys, maybe he should move out here.”

  “I see what you’re doing,” she said. “Trying to placate me with a problem to solve.”

  Car doors slammed and people came toward us. “Maybe I’m coming up with a problem that will keep me here, where I belong.”

  “How about you do that while I drive down to show those seniors what old age can look like? Then we’d all be happy.”

  “Except Jilly,” I said. “She needs her best friend by her side, and I won’t let her down.”

  Edna glanced over my shoulder and said, “Better keep your wits about you.”

  “Yeah. The savage swan situation sounds strange.”

  “I mean now.” Edna’s camouflage glove shot out to grab my shoulder but big teeth beat her to it.

  The trio of donkey thugs had skulked up behind me. Two of them yanked me along the fence while Drama Llama got into position.

  “Noooo…” It came out of my mouth in a howl of despair and Keats threw himself at the fence with no hope of reaching my camelid assailant. A stream of putrid spit shot at me and I only managed to turn away in time to take it in the side of the head.

  “On the bright side, it didn’t hit your eyes,” Edna said. “You wouldn’t be able to see the road today.”

  I shook my fist at Drama and mopped my head with my other sleeve. “That felt like a bad omen.”

  “Ivy, let me share a little retiree wisdom,” she said, towing me toward the crowd in the parking area. “Sometimes spit is just spit.”

  Chapter Two

  As usual, Cori Hogan was dressed all in black except for the orange middle fingers on her knit gloves. She raised both hands now and said, “Stop right there, farmer.”

  “Permission to approach, captain?” I asked.

  The orange fingers fluttered. “Denied. Report to the decontamination chamber immediately.”

  “I don’t have time to shower. We promised to get there by tomorrow night.”

  “You can’t shut Jilly in a small space stinking like that,” Cori said. “Not if you want her alive on arrival.”

  “Agreed,” Edna said. “Although I was hoping to see what happened when Chief Hotty McSniffalot went in for the goodbye hug.”

  Jilly was coming down the front stairs dragging a huge suitcase. Did she really need that much stuff for a weeklong visit, or was she secretly planning to stay longer? Maybe the Briar Estates was like an ocean cruise with formal nights. I should have asked earlier.

  I’d packed heavy, too, but with different goals. On Edna’s advice, I’d assembled a go-kit with shovels, rope, an ax and life jackets for the beach. A farmer-sleuth came prepared.

  Edna collected Jilly’s suitcase just as my uniformed brother came forward to do the same. There was a brief tussle before Jilly spoke up. “Asher, let Edna do it. She’s got a flair for packing.”

  Now I couldn’t help but see the truth of Edna’s words. My best friend had lost her spark, despite many hours in her kitchen happy place cooking for our army.

  “Jillian is right, young man,” Edna said, yanking so hard on the suitcase that Asher nearly lost hi
s balance. “Better stick to being handsome.”

  Kellan walked over, also in uniform. “Miss Evans, let’s be respectful of the people who serve and protect this town.”

  Edna muttered something disrespectful that included the words dagnabit and Chief Haughty McSnobalot and then continued on to the truck. Kellan ignored it, letting his slow, gorgeous smile spread over his face as he came toward me. Our fingers had nearly touched when a smaller animal grabbed my shoulder. A wolverine in red clothing.

  “Stop right there, Ivy Rose Galloway,” Mom said. “I can hardly stand to touch you and I delivered you into this world. Get inside and shower. Kellan and Jilly deserve better.”

  I might have argued but Keats was herding me to the stairs. Apparently, I stunk too much even for him. “Fine. We’ll be late leaving.”

  “Kellan,” Mom said behind me. “Have you considered one of my other daughters? I have three very much available. All clean and relatively tame.”

  Poppy, Iris and Violet offered a joint protest. “Mom!”

  “What? It’s a compliment,” she said. “You’re practically identical, thanks to my genes, but Calvin’s came out in Ivy. They’re both content to sleep in a barn, whereas Chief Harper is a man of refined tastes.”

  Kellan laughed. “You overestimate me, Mrs. Galloway.”

  “I don’t want to be called that anymore.” She frowned as she saw Calvin’s truck pulling in. “Especially not with Mister Galloway in the vicinity.”