Deadly Devotion by Sandra Orchard Read Free Book Online Page A

hilly roads, watching for farm numbers. Jersey cows dotted the landscape, and the smell of manure scented the air. Whenever a white clapboard farmhouse came into view, a farm dog inevitably appeared and raced her car, barking until she’d driven past.
    Soon pastures gave way to bush. She double-checked the address. No, she had it right. Another mile down the road, a faded lot marker dangled from one corner—1250. She braked and peered through the trees. No greenhouse was visible fromthe road, and no sign advertised its presence. She checked her list again.
    The numbers matched.
    She flipped on her turn signal and entered the drive. Naked locust branches loomed overhead, casting mottled shadows on the winding lane. Deep potholes yanked at her steering wheel, and the farther she rattled along the driveway, the darker it became—not exactly a typical setting for a greenhouse operation. Delivery trucks must hate coming here.
    Four hundred yards in, the driveway widened to a parking lot—empty, except for an old school bus. On the far side sat one long cement building flanked by rows of white plastic–covered greenhouses. The whirr of a generator assured Kate the place wasn’t abandoned.
    Clipboard in hand, she headed for the open bay door. At the entrance, she inhaled deeply. The air was a culinary feast. Endless rows of potted herbs filled the place. Daisy must have been flabbergasted by Gord’s decision to quit such a plum job—if he told her.
    “May I help you?”
    Kate jumped. Why did everyone keep sneaking up on her? She turned and extended her hand to a squat, bearded, dark-eyed man who assessed her with a frown. “I’m Kate Adams from the research center.”
    The man wiped his dirty hands on the rag hanging from his belt loop but made no move to shake her hand. “I told the last lady who came here that we don’t want no more interns.”
    So Daisy had come here. Kate glanced at the floors under the benches. “May I ask why?”
    “They’re lazy. Migrant workers cost less, work harder, and don’t come with paperwork.”
    “Are you managing the operation for Mr. Groen, Mr. . . . ?”
    “The name’s Al. Groen sold the property to Herbs Are Us. I work for them.”
    “Oh, I hadn’t realized . . .”
    A teenaged Mexican boy came through the bay with a bag of fertilizer slung over his shoulder.
    Al jabbed a finger toward a storage area. “Over there.”
    The boy slid his gaze down Kate, then deposited his load in the designated area.
    Al motioned Kate toward the door. “If there’s nothing else, I need to get back to work.”
    “Yes, of course. I’m so sorry to keep you, but I was hoping . . .” She shot a quick look around the place.
    The boy leaned against a pillar and watched her as he rolled a cigarette.
    “Pedro, vuelva para trabajar ,” Al said, snatching the cigarette out of the boy’s hand.
    The boy snickered and stalked out of the building.
    Al shook his head. “Your intern was a bad influence on that boy. I was glad to see the last of him.”
    Kate couldn’t think of an appropriate reply, given that she hadn’t really known Gord. “Did he happen to leave a forwarding address?”
    “If he did, I wouldn’t give it out. What with privacy laws the way they are.”
    She started to protest, but one look at the man’s hardened jaw told her protesting would be a waste of breath. “Thank you for your time,” she said instead, and strode toward her car. The prickle on the back of her neck told her his steely gaze tracked her exit. She climbed into her car and shifted into reverse. Out the rear window to the left of the rows ofgreenhouses, she noticed two narrow swaths rutted through the trees—tire tracks on an abandoned laneway, overgrown with two-foot-high weeds and brambles.
    Interesting.
    Resisting the temptation to linger, she turned her attention back to the parking lot. A shadow detached from the corner of the main building. Pedro. His gaze drifted from her to the laneway