Poisoned Ground by Sandra Parshall Read Free Book Online Page B

But let’s see if we can find anything else before we get somebody out here to move it all.”
    Before leaving the house, Tom turned out the lights over the plants and the three of them sealed the basement door with crime-scene tape. They did the same with the front and back doors. The Kellys’ son and daughter had both told Tom they wanted to stay in the house while they were in Mason County, but they would have to make other arrangements. This was a crime scene in more ways than one.
    Taking Brandon and Dennis along, Tom drove out into the fields toward the center of the small farm. Hollinger had described a spot away from the road, where tall corn disguised the marijuana plants growing between rows. Now, in mid-November, nothing remained of the corn except dried stalks, but when Tom and the deputies walked the field they found a few small marijuana seedlings struggling to survive in the chilly weather.
    “How many people do you suppose know about this?” Dennis laughed as he snapped a picture of one marijuana plant. “Everybody in the county but us?”
    “And why didn’t Hollinger report it?” Brandon added. “He sure didn’t get along with Mr. Kelly.”
    Tom kicked a rock out of the way and tugged on one of the cannabis plants. It offered a little resistance, but when he yanked with both hands it came free with clumps of clay soil clinging to the roots. “I think we’ll find out Marie and Lincoln helped Sue Ellen Hollinger when her cancer was terminal. They would have been happy to help ease her pain. And Jake wouldn’t stand in the way of his wife getting some relief just because it came from the Kellys.”
    They pulled up five more small plants, carried them to the cruiser and tossed them into the trunk.
    ***
    Rachel braked in the middle of Main Street and stared at the building across from Mountainview Animal Hospital. When she’d left earlier in the day the storefront space had been vacant and dark. Now a small moving van sat at the curb, the door into the building stood open, and two men in coveralls worked inside, positioning three desks and chairs in a semicircle. A sign taped to the plate-glass window read PACKARD RESORTS.
    “They’re really moving in, aren’t they?” No one was around to hear her except Billy Bob, and he lay snoring on the back seat.
    When she pulled into her parking space in the vet clinic’s lot, she realized half a dozen clients with dogs on leashes had gathered outside the door, all of them focused on the activities across the street. A couple of women called out questions as she opened her car door. She ignored them for the moment, while she roused Billy Bob and helped him down from the Range Rover.
    The women repeated their questions when Rachel approached with the bulldog.
    “Do you have any news about the Kellys?”
    “Does the sheriff know who did it?”
    The other dogs, big and little, swarmed Billy Bob in a flurry of sniffing and tail-wagging.
    Rachel held up a hand. “Please don’t ask me anything, because I don’t have any answers. I haven’t even had a chance to talk to Tom. Marie and Lincoln Kelly were killed today. That’s all I know about it.”
    “Well, I can tell you what I think.” This came from Mrs. Wilson, an elderly woman with snowy hair and a sharp little nose in a pinched face. Her spotted mutt strained at his leash to get closer to Billy Bob.
    “We can always count on you to tell us what you think, Oline,” said another woman of about the same age, rolling her eyes heavenward as she spoke.
    Ignoring her, Mrs. Wilson pointed across the street. “There’s the cause, right there.”
    All the women started speaking at once, their words tumbling together. The woman who had chided Mrs. Wilson raised her voice above the others. “That company’s the best thing that’s happened to Mason County in a hundred years. Nobody’s got a right to stand in the way of all those jobs coming in here. We need to think about what’s best for