TSMM01 - Baskerville for the Bear by Archer Jessa

Author:Archer, Jessa [Archer, Jessa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: smashwords, cThriller
Publisher: Archer Mysteries
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

✰ Chapter Six ✰

Ben Faircloth lived in a rambling, two-story farmhouse that had seen better days. The ancient tree fort in the large oak in the front yard, along with the tire swing that hung from a branch on the opposite side, suggested that many of those days had been happy ones, filled with the laughter of children or grandchildren. Faircloth’s house was situated at the end of a long, bumpy driveway in desperate need of fresh gravel. Back in the eighties, the house couldn’t even be seen from the main road for all the trees, but they’d cleared most of the land since then.

“Thanks for coming out here with me,” I told Ed as he parked the truck near Faircloth’s front porch. I’d asked Wren if she wanted to come with us, but she had claimed to have some work she needed to catch up on. I suspected that wasn’t true and she simply wanted to give her theory about Ed’s interest in me a chance to take root.

“I’m happy to help. I settled a lot of disputes between neighbors as sheriff. Not that this is a typical dispute,” Ed added quickly. “I mean, from what you’ve said, Ben has definitely been trespassing, and if Ben set that bear trap, that’s two laws that he’s broken. It’s just...he never struck me as a type to be wasteful. I can’t see him leaving a perfectly good bear in the woods.”

I sighed. “Well, someone did. And, listen...even if it was him, if he admits he did it and says he’ll stop, I won’t press charges. I’m really not trying to stir up trouble. But I don’t like the idea of one of those traps catching my cat. Or me or my daughter. And he can’t keep leaving strands of barbed wire around, either. I mean, I don’t know that Remy picked that up on my property, but the cub couldn’t have traveled far like that.”

“You’re probably right,” he said.

We stepped out into the chill of the night. Loose gravel crunched beneath our shoes as we made our way up the short walkway to the porch. Ed knocked a few times and then we waited. I had a strange sense of déjà vu standing there, like maybe I’d climbed those steps years ago selling candy bars or magazines to raise money for band uniforms or maybe the senior trip.

The curtain on the front door drew back and an elderly woman, probably in her eighties, peered out. She seemed vaguely familiar. For a moment, she simply stared at us. Then, she let the curtain fall back into place and opened the door.

“Sheriff Shelton. We haven’t seen you in ages. Is everything okay?”

Ed laughed softly. “It’s just Ed now, Mrs. Faircloth.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess old habits die hard.”

Ed cleared his throat. “This is my friend, Ruth Townsend. She’s a neighbor of yours.”

The woman cocked her head to the side. “Are you back at your mama and daddy’s place, then?”

“Yes, ma’am. Moved back a few months ago.

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