Chapter 2
Bernie staggered backward. “Where did you get that?”
“From inside the pigpen,” Gerard said.
“How...” Bernie shook her head. “How did it get there?”
“Probably the same way Penelope got out.” Gerard stared from the foot to the pen. “I believe this pigpen just became a crime scene.” He laid the foot on the ground, scrubbed his hands down his jeans and then pulled his cell phone from his pocket.
Bernie couldn’t quite wrap her mind around what she was looking at. “A foot in my pigpen.” She glanced up. “Where’s the owner of the foot?” Her gaze went to the pen, her eyes rounding. “You don’t think...”
Gerard punched 911 and waited. “This is Gerard Guidry. I’m with Bernie Bellamy at Bellamy Acres.
We’ve discovered a human foot inside her pigpen.
No. Just the foot. We haven’t gone into the pen, so we don’t know what else might be in there.
Yes, ma’am. We’ll be here. We’ll wait. Thank you.
” He ended the call. “Sheriff’s on the way.
” He lifted his cell phone a second time and scrolled through his contacts, selecting one.
Bernie wrapped her arms around herself, a chill slithering down her spine despite the hot, humid air of the Louisiana afternoon. “Who are you calling now?”
“Remy,” Gerard said into the phone. “We have a situation here at Bellamy Acres. You might want to be here when the sheriff arrives.” He explained what they’d found, his gaze on the foot lying against the ground.
“It’s big enough, it probably belonged to a man.
No, we haven’t seen any other parts... Okay.
..see you in a minute.” He ended the call and met Bernie’s gaze.
“What the hell?” Bernie said. “First, Gertrude. Now this?” She shook her head, her body trembling.
Gerard’s brow dipped. “Hey.” He reached out and pulled her into his arms. “Are you okay?”
“No. I’m not okay. You realize pigs eat everything.
” She waved a hand out behind her. “I mean, look at what Penelope did in a few short hours. There are a lot of swine in that pen. If they’ve been working on whatever was thrown in there since last night's storm, there might not be anything left to find.”
Gerard’s arms tightened around her. “The sheriff will have someone sift through the mud. If there’s anything left to find, they’ll collect it and send it to the state crime lab. The foot alone will provide a DNA sample.”
Bernie leaned her forehead against Gerard’s chest, thankful for his strength and the arms wrapped around her. It had been so long since anyone had held her close.
A twinge of guilt rippled through her. The last man to hold her had been her husband as he lay on his deathbed.
Was it wrong of her to like how Gerard’s arms felt around her? Was she being disloyal to her dead husband’s memory?
Sirens sounded in the distance.
Bernie straightened, moving away from Gerard and his warm, strong arms. A shiver rippled through her body as she moved away from his heat. “I’d better head for the house to meet the authorities. You might want to stay here and guard that...thing…to keep animals from taking off with it.”
Gerard nodded. “Are you going to be all right?”
She gave him a weak smile. “I don’t have a choice.
The foot appeared on my property. My biggest concern, besides finding a foot in the pigpen, is what to do with the pigs when the authorities want to clear them out and look for any other remains that might be found in the mud.
” Her lips twisted. “I do have portable corral panels we used when we kept horses and cattle. We could set up a temporary structure to move them into.”
“Are the panels sturdy enough to hold these guys?” Gerard’s forehead puckered as his gaze swept over the pen full of pigs weighing over two hundred pounds.
Bernie nodded. “The panels are heavy-duty. They’ll hold them long enough for the crime scene investigators to do their thing.”
“What if they want to check the contents of their bellies for evidence?”
Bernie hadn’t thought about that. “I’d planned on processing these hogs in a couple of weeks. It wouldn’t hurt too much to send them to the slaughterhouse early.”
“Do you name all your hogs?” Gerard asked.
Bernie shook her head. “Not the ones going to market.” She tipped her head toward the pen. “Penelope is my breeding sow. The big guy in the corner is my breeding boar, Henry.”
Gerard chuckled. “What famous Henry did you name him after?”
“It was a Hollywood toss-up between Henry Winkler and Henry Cavill.” She smiled. “But he proved early on that he’s a king among swine.”
“Henry the VIII,” Gerard concluded.
Bernie nodded and looked back at the field of melons.
“With the sheriff on his way, I’m sure they’ll want me to hold off on harvesting my melons and produce.
That concerns me more. I have to schedule my pickers well in advance.
The crew that was supposed to come today will move on to their next job.
I won’t get them back until after everything has rotted in the fields. ”
“I might be able to help you with that. I know a handful of guys we could get out here as soon as the sheriff gives you the go-ahead.”
“Good to know. Let’s hope they don’t take days for that to happen.
” She mounted the ATV, fired up the engine and gave Gerard a nod.
Bernie goosed the throttle, sending the four-wheeler leaping forward.
She turned around and headed for the house as sheriff’s vehicles and an ambulance turned onto the road leading to her farm.
Deputy Shelby Taylor was the first to arrive. She waved at Bernie as she drove into the yard and pulled to a stop. When she got out of her service vehicle, she touched a hand to her flat belly. “Bernie, what’s this I hear about you finding a body part in your pigpen?”
Bernie climbed off the four-wheeler, shaking her head. “Just that. We found a foot in the pigpen a few minutes ago.”
Shelby hugged Bernie. “It’s been a while since I’ve been out to the farm. Seems the only time I see you is at the farmer’s market. How’ve you been?”
Bernie shrugged. “Busy.”
“I can only imagine.” Shelby shook her head. “This place was a lot to manage when you and Ray were working it together.”
“I’m doing okay as long as I don’t get hit with major constraints like weather and, now...this.” She stared at the deputy. “Speaking of busy, I was surprised to hear that you are—”
“Pregnant?” Shelby grinned, her hand resting on her still-flat belly. “No more surprised than we were. I’m only about a month along with eight more to go.”
Bernie swallowed her envy, truly happy for her friend.
When she’d married Ray, they’d talked of having four kids, starting their brood as soon as the farm started producing a steady income.
The income came about the time Ray was diagnosed with ALS.
Kids had ceased to be a part of their future.
Hell, a future together stopped being a part of their young dreams. “Congratulations, Shelby.”
“Thanks,” the deputy said. “We’re moving up our wedding date to accommodate our unexpected familial addition.”
Sheriff Bergeron joined them while the ambulance crew dropped down from the cab and opened the rear of their truck.
“You won’t need a gurney,” Bernie said. “All we have is a foot.”
The emergency medical technicians pulled on surgical gloves, grabbed a bag for the body part and joined the sheriff and deputy.
“I’d let you drive out to the pen, but it rained last night, and you might bog down in the mud,” she said.
“Won’t hurt us to walk,” Sheriff Bergeron said. “Lead the way.”
Bernie left the ATV in front of the house and led the entourage along the side of the field until they reached the pigpen on the far corner.
Gerard stood patiently guarding the foot. As they approached, he held out his hand. “Deputy Taylor, good to see you.”
“Gerard…” She shook his hand. “Remy said he’d tagged you with this assignment. He thought it would be an easy one when all you had to do was find what or who killed Bernie’s goose.”
Gerard glanced down at the human foot. “I don’t think it’ll be as simple as he anticipated.”
Bernie turned to the sheriff. “I don’t know if you’ve had the chance to meet Sheriff Bergeron since you came to Bayou Mambaloa…?”
Gerard held out his hand to the sheriff. “I’ve seen you in passing, but we haven’t been formally introduced. Gerard Guidry.”
The sheriff gripped his hand. “You’re one of Remy Montagne’s guys with the Bayou Brotherhood Protectors, right?”
Gerard nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Welcome to Bayou Mambaloa,” the sheriff said and then squatted down to inspect the foot.
Deputy Taylor pulled a camera out of her pocket and started snapping photos of the foot and the pigpen.
“The state crime team is on its way,” Sheriff Bergeron said. “They’ll want to clear the pen of the livestock so they can look for the rest of the victim.”
“In order to clear the pen, I’ll need help moving corral panels into position,” Bernie said.
“I gave my team a heads-up,” Gerard said. “They’re ready to help erect the temporary enclosure when we give them the word.”
“Hopefully, the folks from the state crime lab will be here soon,” the sheriff said.
“They’ll want to sweep the area around the pen before we trample any potential evidence.
” He glanced at the sky. “Won’t be long before the sun sets.
We’d like to get those pigs out of there before they trample any more body parts. ”
“I wouldn’t be as concerned about them trampling parts as consuming them,” Bernie said. “Pigs will eat any and everything—including human flesh and bones.”
Deputy Taylor grimaced. “And to think, some people keep pigs as pets.”
“While the sheriff and the crime scene investigators are working the area, could my guys help position the corral panels?” Gerard asked. “We can have them ready to move out here when they tell us it’s okay.”