Cold Black Earth (4 page)

“This is what they eat in Iraq, huh?” Dan said, pronouncing it “Eye-rack,” the way the military guys did.

“No. This is a North African dish. I learned to make this when I was living in Paris.”

Dan poked at it with his fork. “You lost me there. I thought Paris was in France.”

“It is. There are lots of North African immigrants in France, and I had an Algerian boyfriend. That’s what first got me interested in learning Arabic.”

“An Algerian boyfriend, huh? I had a girlfriend from Aledo once.”

Rachel laughed. “That’s pretty exotic.”

“She had some fairly exotic sexual practices, for a nice country girl. But we don’t need to go there. You know, this ain’t bad.”

“Thank you. I learned how to make a lot of Lebanese dishes, too, when I was living in Beirut. And that’s pretty much all I have to show for twenty years living abroad. I can bring something different to the church potluck.”

“Bring this to my church and they’ll gather around it in a circle and wait for the minister to try it, see if he keels over.” Dan took a drink of beer and said, “Lebanon. You sure like to go where the trouble is, don’t you?”

“I just went where they sent me. Once I learned the language, that sealed my fate. I wasn’t going to get Paris or London after that.”

“Well, that’s what you get for hanging out with foreign guys.”

“I tried to tell her,” Matt said. He aimed his fork at Rachel. “It all started when you went to the homecoming dance with that exchange student we had—what the hell was that kid’s name? He was from Chile or some damn place.”

“Oh, God, Eduardo. What a disaster that was. He was so nervous he forgot all his English. I had to grab him and kiss
him
at the end of the night. And then he was too embarrassed to talk to me after that.”

“But the damage was done. You had tasted that forbidden fruit.”

She giggled. “Oh, right. I developed a craving for swarthy pimpled youths who couldn’t talk.”

Dan reached for his beer. “And somewhere in South America, the man-eating blondes of Illinois are a legend to this day.”

It was absurd but it made her laugh again, and it felt good to laugh. “Well, I’m done with foreign guys now, I’ll tell you that.”

“Now you’re talking,” said Dan. “We’ll get you hooked up with some nice divorced farmer around here.”

Rachel cocked an eyebrow at him. “Slow down, Tiger. I may be done with guys altogether for a while.”

“Did I say anything about me? I’m too old to chase girls anymore.”

“And I’m too old to be a girl, so we should get along just fine.”

“I’ll drink to that,” said Dan. Rachel picked up her bottle to clink with his, and when Danny Olson winked at her she found it was easy to give him a cool indulgent smile in return.

4    

Winter was the quiet time, the slow time, but there was still work to be done: next spring’s seed and fertilizer orders to finalize, financing to arrange, insurance needs to analyze, machinery to repair, infrastructure to upgrade, all the things left undone in busier times. Rachel hadn’t owned a pair of work boots in twenty-five years, but she put on her sneakers and followed Matt out to the barn.

“I been trying to figure out what to do with all this space ever since I got out of hogs. Now I’m thinking organic dairy cows.”

“Cows? Why cows?”

He gave her a sidelong look and a grin. “You want to know the truth? Since I got rid of the hogs, I miss having animals around. Too quiet.”

“So what happened to the hogs?”

Matt shook his head. “Hogs got too big. The size of the operation, I mean. When the price tanked back in the nineties, only the bigger outfits survived. Now you need a CAFO and all that shit.”

“What’s a CAFO?”

“Stands for ‘concentrated animal feeding operation.’ You know, a big factory building with fifteen or twenty thousand hogs penned up together. That’s what you do if you’re serious about hogs now. You take on a corporate partner, have them build the plant, become an industrial farmer. Or a serf, the way I look at it. But you can make a lot of money as a serf these days. You specialize in farrowing, weaning or finishing, and that’s all you do. Economies of scale and all that.”

“Yuck.”

“That’s what I say. To hell with it. I’m looking at something small and sustainable.” He pointed at the vacant north end of the barn. “I can put a New Zealand–style milking parlor in here. Start with twenty cows or so and go from there, see if it flies.”

“What’s New Zealand style?”

“You milk the cows in groups. Line ’em up at a trough, hook ’em up to the pumps from a pit below them. I can put in the troughs right here, dig the pit about here. Cost a few thousand bucks for all the plumbing. A lot cheaper than a conventional milking operation. So I can get into it without too much start-up cost. Turn a few acres up by the creek back to pasture, start growing some hay again, figure out the business without staking too much on it.”

“It all sounds nice and green.”

“Yeah, me the tree hugger. Who’da thunk it? But it makes sense. Chuck Anderson over by Bremen went all organic a few years ago. I don’t know that I’m ready to go the whole way. Ravaging the land with fertilizers and pesticides has been a pretty good deal for us. But I’m starting to fall in love with the cow idea. What the hell, it’s something different.”

Rachel looked at her brother’s profile and felt a stir of affection, watching him survey and calculate and dream, just as their father had. “I never thought about the responsibility when we were kids,” she said. “How does it feel to be in charge of all this? You’re running this thing that got built up over generations. You ever feel the weight?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes. I guess I’d feel more weight if there was somebody to hand it off to. But Billy doesn’t give a shit. And Emma’s not going to come back from Peoria to run a farm. I think I’m the last generation on this land.”

Shocked, she put a hand on his arm. “No, don’t say that.”

Matt turned his head to fix her with a look. “What, you mean you’re going to take up farming? Is that why you came home?”

Rachel blinked at him. “Are you sure about Billy? You don’t think he’s going to settle down?”

Matt shook his head. “When he does, it won’t be here. I’d be real surprised.”

“But what’ll happen to the place?”

“I’ll cash it in, sell everything off and go live in a condo in Florida. Don’t worry, you’ll get your cut.”

“That’s not what I was thinking.”

“Nah, I know.” His look softened. “What, you think I want to be a lonely old man here? Sleeping in the den for the next twenty, thirty years, whatever I got left?”

Rachel just stared at him, ambushed by images of an unsuspected future. After a while she said, “I’m sorry, Matt. I’ve been living in a fairy tale, I guess. Where the farm goes on forever and I can always come home for Christmas and find it just like it always was.”

“Nothing goes on forever,” Matt said, turning away. “Thank God.”

“You don’t have any outstanding warrants on you, do you?” Rachel said, toiling at the kitchen sink.

She had said it as a joke, but there was real alarm in Billy’s eyes as his head jerked up from his lunch. “How come?”

Rachel nodded at the window over the sink. “Because a sheriff’s car just pulled up out there.”

Billy shoved away from the table and came to stand beside her. Outside, Matt had emerged from the shed and was strolling toward the cruiser, hands in the pockets of his overalls. A uniformed deputy had gotten out of the car and was ambling toward Matt, adjusting the set of his gunbelt. Neither of them seemed in a hurry.

Billy made a whiffing noise. “That’s just old Roger Wilco. If he’s here, it can’t be anything serious.”

Rachel’s eyes narrowed. “Roger Black?”

“Yup. He’s kind of famous around here for being a doofus. My dad calls him Barney Fife. Nobody takes him seriously.”

Outside, Matt and Roger shook hands, then settled on their heels to talk, two men passing the time of day. Rachel started to laugh. “Roger Black, my God.”

“What’s so funny?”

“I went to the prom with Roger once.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“No. I was just a sophomore, and I had no idea he liked me. He cornered me in the hall one day and asked me to go with him, and I was so dumbstruck I failed to say no.”

“He’s an idiot.”

“I don’t know if he’s an idiot. He was kind of quiet, not real glib. But he was a nice guy. He’s not exactly . . . what am I trying to say? He’s not Hollywood material.”

“You mean he’s a goofy-looking doofus.”

Rachel laughed in spite of herself. “Let’s just say he was not well-favored by nature.” Roger Black had been an awkward, angular boy, with a long equine face and an uncertain complexion, redeemed slightly by kindly eyes and a crooked smile. Watching him now in profile, Rachel saw that he had gained weight and assurance with adulthood, but he was never going to be the type to set women’s hearts a-flutter.

“Oh, perfect. He’s gonna come in.” Matt had motioned in the direction of the house, and the two men were coming toward it. “Gonna ruin my damn lunch.” Billy went back to his place at the table.

When Roger came into the kitchen he and Billy traded a quick glare, and then Roger’s eye lit on Rachel and he grinned his crooked grin. “Well, hello, Rachel. It’s been a long time.”

“Hi, Roger.” Rachel didn’t know what to expect, but to forestall any extravagant gestures she put out her hand. “It has been a while, hasn’t it?”

Roger shook her hand as if he were meeting the president. “Only about twenty-three years, by my count.”

“That long? Wow.”

Roger’s brow furrowed. “The last time I saw you was at the Dairy Queen up in Kalmar, a couple of years after you graduated. I think you were home from college. You were with Sue Holmgren and Tammy McMaster, I recall. I was working for Don Holland at International Harvester at the time. I came over to say hi.”

Rachel stared openmouthed. “I can’t say I remember it.”

“Wouldn’t expect you to.” Roger grinned again and looked down at Billy. “I took your aunt to the prom one time, did you know that?”

“Yeah. I think that’s why she’s in therapy now,” said Billy.

“You watch your mouth,” Matt said, scowling.

“That’s OK.” Roger waved it off. “Billy and I have had our issues, but that comes with the territory. You keeping out of trouble, son?”

Billy gave him a pitying look. “You think I’d tell you if I wasn’t?”

“Billy.” Matt’s tone was flat and hard.

Roger smiled. “He’s jokin’ with me, that’s all. Forget I said anything, Billy. Just remember, there’s reasons for the laws we got.”

Billy got up and took his plate to the sink. “Sure thing. See you in the rearview mirror some time.” He left the kitchen.

Matt sat down heavily, took off his cap and passed a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, Roger. I don’t know where he got the mouth from. I didn’t raise him that way.”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s a good kid. He’s just going through a tough time, that’s all.”

“I know you’ve cut him a couple of breaks. I appreciate it.”

“Because he’s not malicious. He’s just a little wild. I just hope he doesn’t hurt himself before he comes out of it.”

Matt sighed. “Whatever. Anyway, Rachel, Roger wants to know about the guy we saw on the road the other night.”

Startled, she said, “I don’t know what I can tell you. I didn’t get any more of a look at him than Matt did.”

Roger said, “You didn’t notice anything, an article of clothing, hair color, something like that?”

She frowned, recalling. “He had on a hooded sweatshirt, with the hood up and pulled tight around his face. But really, we just got a glance at him, for a couple of seconds in the headlights before the road dipped. And then when we got closer, he was gone. That was the funny thing—like, where did he go?”

“Sounds like he was hiding from you.”

“That’s what I thought,” said Matt. “That’s why I called you.”

Rachel said, “You think it might be this guy that escaped from the prison?”

Roger shrugged. “Well, we have to check it out. I’ll tell you one thing—if he is around this neck of the woods, you want to lock your doors, because he’s one dangerous individual.”

There was a brief silence. “I heard about what he did,” said Rachel.

“Sick bastard,” Matt muttered. “I remember when it happened.”

Roger nodded. “He’s one for the textbooks, all right. Classified as unrestorably incompetent, suffering from schizoid personality disorder, delusional disorder, multiple paraphilias, psychopathic narcissism.” To Matt and Rachel’s astonished looks he said, “I did some reading up on him. What it boils down to is, Matt’s right. He’s a very scary guy.”

Rachel nodded. “And there’s no sign of him.”

“No sign. We hope that means he’s a long way away by now. Of course, all that means is, he’s somebody else’s problem. Nobody’s going to rest easy until we haul him in.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and somebody will shoot him,” said Matt.

Roger shook his head. “We can’t be thinking along those lines. Doing a good professional job would mean catching him and taking him back to jail.”

Matt shot a quick look at Rachel, with a hint of a smile. “OK, Barney.
We’ll be on the lookout.”

Roger smiled, briefly. “Go ahead and laugh, I don’t mind. Now, have you seen anything unusual, anything out of the ordinary?”

“What kind of thing?”

“I don’t know. Anything that didn’t look right. A door on an old barn left open, signs of a campfire somewhere. Unusual animal behavior. Fugitives disturb the environment. They leave signs. You might have seen something.”

Matt shrugged. “Can’t say I have. Things are pretty quiet around here.”

A repugnant image fluttered in Rachel’s mind. “I have. I saw a deer somebody had skinned and left for the coyotes.”

They gaped at her. “Come on,” said Matt.

“Seriously. Down in the creek bed, north of here.” She told them about it.

Roger shook his head. “I’ve seen hunters do some crazy things.”

“Maybe they intended to come back, couldn’t get it up out of the creek or something.”

“That’s what I thought,” said Rachel. “Anyway, that’s the only unusual thing I’ve seen.”

“I can go take a look. I’d be surprised if it had anything to do with Otis Ryle. More likely some hunters who had too much to drink.” Roger squared his shoulders. “Well, Rachel. It’s a pleasure to see you again. You just in for a visit?”

“An extended visit, I guess. I’m kind of between jobs right now. I’ll be here through Christmas and New Year’s, anyway. After that, we’ll see.”

Roger’s mouth shifted in the crooked smile. “Well, it’s nice to see you. You take care, now.” He looked down at the floor, the awkwardness suddenly there, then turned abruptly toward her brother. “Matt, good to see you. See if you can talk that boy of yours into going back to school. He’s too smart for that crowd he’s hanging around with.”