“I was about to call you to report them,” I said. It was only a slight exaggeration. “And who expects to get a call after midnight, for heaven’s sake?”
“Where are you?” he asked,
“In a pasture somewhere,” I said. “Go across the goat pasture, take a right at the rose compound, walk into the woods, and when you come out of the woods, that’s where I am. And where the truck was.”
I heard him repeating my instructions, and then I heard Sammy say, “Yes, sir!”
“Stay where you are,” the chief said to me. “Sammy’s coming to find you. And keep this line open. If you see anything threatening, speak up.”
“Right.”
“Could they have been heading for the back entrance?”
“Since I have no idea where I am or where the back entrance is, your guess is as good as mine,” I said. “They were heading away from the house and barns— that’s all I know.”
I heard the chief giving orders— probably on his police radio, from the occasional snippets I caught of static-laden replies.
Suddenly I saw something moving toward me. I yelped slightly in surprise before I realized that it was two cows approaching me.
“What’s wrong?” the chief snapped.
“The cows,” I said.
“What about the cows? What’s happening?”
I didn’t answer because I wasn’t quite sure what the cows were up to. Were Belties territorial, like the black swans? Mischievous like goats? Or merely curious? I wasn’t sure whether to run or stand my ground, and settled for bracing my back against a tree and staying put. The two Belties stopped about two feet away and stood as if expecting me to do something.
I reached out and scratched one behind the ear. She grunted contentedly. The other cow butted my shoulder gently.
“Meg! What’s wrong?”
“The cows were just lonely,” I said. “I’m fine.”
Though I wasn’t sure how fine I would be if I stopped petting the cows. After all, however meek they were, they outweighed me by a ton. And they were beef cows, not dairy. Did that make them more fierce? I figured out a way to hold my cell phone and still keep a few fingers free for scratching. At least it wasn’t actually raining, although I had the feeling it was going to start raining again any minute, and hoped someone would show up before it did. I was still petting both cows when Sammy appeared after what was probably only a few minutes but felt like years.
“Meg! Are you okay?’
“I’ll be fine if you can convince these cows that the petting zoo is closed for the night.”
Sammy, who was raised on a farm, seemed to have no trouble shooing the over-friendly Belties away.
The chief and Horace showed up shortly afterward. The three of them spent quite a while inspecting the part of the pasture where I’d seen the truck loading. At least I hoped I’d pointed to the right part of the pasture. They milled around for fifteen minutes or so, pointing their flashlights this way and that way. I saw multiple flashes of light from Horace’s digital camera. Eventually, Horace came back my way.
“Rain’s working for us this time,” he said. “Enough hoof prints for us to tell that they got away with several other cows, and I should be able to get some very clear tire impressions.”
I couldn’t see his face, but from his voice I suspected he was smiling ear to ear. He trudged off into the rain as the chief and Sammy strolled up.
“Where’s Horace going?” I asked.
“To get the stuff he needs to make some castings of the tire impressions.” The chief opened his trunk, pulled out a folded tarp, and handed it to Sammy. “Cover them up good,” he said. “In case the heavens open again before Horace gets back.”
“Right, chief.”
“So,” the chief said, turning to me. “You just happened to be wandering around near the back entrance to Mrs. Winkleson’s farm in the middle of the night.”
“Are we near the back entrance?” I said. “I’ve never seen it.”
“Then what are you doing out here?”
“I was down at the barns, getting into my car, and I just happened to see a light over here,” I said. “I think they had the headlights on when they drove up and then realized it was a bad idea.”
I gave him chapter and verse on what I’d been doing since I left the party. Midway through, the rain started up again, and we moved into his car. Horace arrived soon thereafter, leaning out the window of his truck to make up for his missing windshield wipers. As I answered questions, I watched him rig up a makeshift tent over his chosen tire tracks.