Death of a Dumb Bunny by Melanie Jackson

Author:Melanie Jackson [Jackson, Melanie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Mystery, cookie429, Kat, Extratorrents
ISBN: 9781456586355
Publisher: CreateSpace
Published: 2011-03-01T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

The Brookes’ farmstead and the farmhouse itself were not unkempt but that afternoon, in the failing light, I was aware of a feeling of desolation and loneliness that had never been there before. I prayed it was my imagination and not because Death had come calling.

We were a strange delegation, Dad in his top hat, me in my Easter dress and Alex in a gaudy vest with bunny ears stuffed in his pocket. Blue was the only one who didn’t look like she came from Fairytale Town, though it was maybe a little eccentric that a dog would be out paying an Easter visit on a bunny.

We knocked and then knocked again on the Dutch door and for a long time there was no answer except the patter of rain on the porch roof. The gray light was weakening with every minute and the wind was moaning through the old apple orchard, shaking the limbs roughly. Only the daffodils along the drive remained graceful under the assault. The driveway needed gravel. Thaddeus had a small 1928 Caterpillar tractor, but small in tractor terms was still heavier than most automobiles and the gravel showed the cat’s passing.

Lightning crackled in the distance. But that wasn’t why Dad and Alex were looking so grim and peering in windows. I didn’t join them. Instead I watched the tall, un-mown lawn by the door as it swayed and whispered unhappily and prayed that Thaddeus was still alive. Finally we heard footsteps and the door unlocked.

“Thaddeus!” I said with relief. “Thank heavens you’re alright.”

“I’m fine, dear. Hello, Mayor. Hello, Blue and stranger,” he answered and then began to cough. His eyes were red and his cheeks flushed fever red. Thaddeus had a nicely modulated voice, but illness had made it rough and irregular. He didn’t look fine, but as I had half-expected to find his body shot through with arrows, this rated as an acceptable state of being. “Come in, come in. It’s cold out today.”

“Let me make you some tea,” I said, taking his trembling arm. His skin was hot even through his shirt. He was in high fever. “Thaddeus. This is my husband, Alex, and you remember Blue.”

“A pleasure,” he wheezed. “But why have you come on this horrible day? I guess you figured out that Brutus took my place at the parade? I told him not to talk to anybody.”

“Yes. The store-bought carrots tipped me off,” I said gently, lowering him into his reclining chair and pulling the afghan over his lap. The small table next to the recliner was covered in bunched Kleenex and cans of ginger ale. I wondered how long it had been since he’d eaten.

“Hucksters. Passing off vitamin-deficient produce. But I was feeling too poorly to harvest any of the root vegetables and I fear that Brutus is coming down with it too.”

“It’s okay. Sometimes things happen and we have to make due.” Like getting shot by hunting arrows; that was a big thing.

“I’ll put the kettle on,” Alex said and disappeared into the kitchen.

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