CHAPTER.

14.

In an instant Ethan's gun was back up and pointed at Rick's chest. "What did you do?"

Rick ignored him and the Glock. Instead he stared at Daisy.

She put a hand to her throat. It was hot and tight. Her head swam, and her vision blurred. She grabbed the back of an empty chair to steady herself.

Ethan rushed forward. "What did you put in her drink?"

Rick remained silent.

"Tell me, goddamm it!" The barrel of Ethan's gun was no more than a few inches from Rick's heart. "Tell me right now or I'm going to blow a hole the size of a golf ball through your lung!"

Heedless of the threat, Rick rose from his seat.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Ethan shouted.

Daisy was going outside. The humid air inside the barn seemed suddenly stifling. She was having trouble catching her breath. She stumbled toward the open doorway.

"Is it the same thing you used to poison Frederick Dickerson?" Ethan bellowed at Rick.

Although Rick's dark eyes had been following Daisy, they shifted abruptly to Ethan. "What the blazes are you talking about? I didn't poison old man Dickerson!"

"Is it arsenic?" Ethan demanded.

Arsenic. Daisy's stomach shook. Arsenic was both an herbicide and pesticide. It was often called the king of poisons, because it was able to kill just about everything, from plants to insects to animals to humans. It could be used on so many types of agriculture. Cotton, rye, barley, millet, rice. And corn. Some people didn't work with it anymore. They considered it too toxic. It contaminated the groundwater and frequently destroyed unintended species. There was no question that arsenic was about as far from environmentally friendly as you could geta"not to mention that it was classified as a human carcinogena"but that didn't mean everyone shunned it. On the contrary, members of the old school couldn't seem to get enough of the stuff, even showering it like lethal dewdrops on their lawns.

Fred Dickerson certainly had been old school. It wouldn't have surprised Daisy in the least if he had put arsenic on his corn. There were probably bags of it lying all over Fox Hollow. Then he had used that corn to make his 'shine. He had poisoned himself. And nowa"with the help of Ricka"he had poisoned her too. It was so simple really. Arsenic was readily soluble in water. It was colorless and odorless. Poor Fred wouldn't have even realized what had happened until it was already too late. Afterward the arsenic would be detectable in his hair and nails. Daisy knew that because a few years back there had been concerns about the safety of some wells in the area. Scientists from all over the state had descended on them to do tests. That must have been what old man Dickerson's autopsy showed. That was why Special Agent Kinney was here. He came for corpses, and apparently Fred's corpse contained arsenic and moonshine.

Daisy's wobbly feet stepped onto the grass. The sun hit her cheeks, and she paused.

"If you're waiting for me to turn my back so you can grab your Ruger and run, you can forget it," Ethan spat at Rick. "You're staying with me, and we're going outside. Move!"

Rick complied without dispute. He left the barn first, followed closely by Ethan and the Glock. Daisy's eyes met his. Rick's gaze was utterly blank. There was no mocking laughter, no remorse, not even any sympathy.

"How are you?" Ethan asked Daisy anxiously.

She didn't answer. She kept on looking at Rick. He looked straight back at her.

"We need to get you to a hospital," Ethan said. "Do you know where the nearest emergency room is? One with a trauma unit would be preferable. They're better equippeda"

Daisy stopped listening. She wasn't thinking about emergency rooms or trauma units. She was thinking about Rick. His head, to be precise. Rick cocked his head to the side when he flirted and when he lied, always when he believed he had the upper hand. But his head wasn't cocked now, and that was what brought the realization home to her. There were no yellow-tinted tears streaming from her eyes or foam gushing out of her mouth. No paralyzing convulsions forced her to the ground. She hadn't drunk a bad batch of 'shine. Whatever strange symptoms she had felt were a result of the potent alcohol hitting her empty stomach. Rick hadn't tried to poison her after all.

"Why didn't you say something!" Daisy exploded in anger. "I thought I might be dying. I thought you had poisoned me. And you decided it would be a grand idea to let me go on thinking that?"

Rick frowned at her. "Don't be stupid."

"I guess I am stupid," she hissed. "I'm stupid for believing any word that ever rolls off your lying tongue."

"Are youa" Ethan squinted at her in confusion. "I don'ta"

"I'm fine," Daisy told him. "I'm not sick. I don't need to go to the hospital. But I appreciate your help and concern. Very much." She turned to Rick with a bitter scowl. "I've known Ethan for two days, and he was worried enough to want to take me to the emergency room. I've known you for practically my whole life, and you couldn't be bothered to spit out one simple sentencea"No, I didn't poison you, Daisy."

"You're being dramatic," Rick replied coolly.

She glared at him. "And you're being an ass. An even bigger ass than usual, which I seriously didn't think was possible."

He glared at her in return. "You're right about one thing. You've known me for practically your whole life. So you should know I would never poison you. Although I'm beginning to wonder if I've been wrong about that all these years."

Ethan waved his Glock in Rick's direction. "I hope that's not a threat." Then to Daisy he said, "What I want to know is why you thought he had poisoned you."

An hour earlier she would have debated how candid to be with Ethan, but after the appalling scare that Rick had just put her througha"not to mention his infuriatingly cavalier attitude about ita"she felt not the tiniest bit of loyalty toward him.

"I thought he had poisoned me," she answered frankly, "because last week when I told him that George Lowella"the Pittsylvania County sheriffa"might drive out to Fox Hollow sometime in the near future, Rick informed me that I needed to go with him. When I asked why, he responded that unless I wanted the sheriff to die like old man Dickerson, I had to make sure he didn't drink any of Fred's 'shine. I remembered what Rick had said just as I drank the 'shine, and I naturally assumed that now I was going to die like Fred."

"Traitor," Rick muttered.

Daisy raised a resentful eyebrow at him. "I'm the traitor? I don't think so. Whose name is on the deed to this place? It certainly ain't mine."

"I tried to explain that to youa""

Ethan interrupted him brusquely. "How did you know there was a problem with Mr. Dickerson's product?"

"How did you know?" Rick retorted.

"They sent us a copy of the autopsy report. The arsenic in the man was off the charts. When combined with the alcohol in his system, it wasn't too difficult to figure out what had happened. We've seen it before."

Rick grunted.

"So I'm going to ask you again." Ethan's voice was sharp and commanding. "How did you know there was a problem with Mr. Dickerson's product?"

He didn't immediately reply. Instead Rick clenched and unclenched his fists. Daisy understood why. He didn't want to talk to Ethan. Ethan wasn't just the law. He was federal. To Rick that was like mixing typhoid and cholera. You didn't voluntarily help typhoid and cholera.

"Just tell him," she said.

"Maybe I've got nothing to tell," Rick returned.

Daisy wrinkled her nose. "Yes, you do. I saw it."

"What did you see?"

"I saw you stare at him. Right after Sheriff Lowell arrived. You were staring at Fred's body. I know you noticed something. And I'm willing to bet it's the reason you thought he drank some bad 'shine."

Rick grunted again.

"Just tell him," she repeated. "He's going to figure it out eventually anyway. It's better if he hears the truth from you now. Then they can't invent some ludicrous story later on. And we both know how the ATF loves to do that."

"ATF!" Rick gaped at her. "He's ATF?"

Her face reddened.

"You really are a traitor," Rick snarled.

"Don't you dare judge me!" Daisy snarled back at him. "I lost everything because of them. You lost nothing."

"Does your momma know what you're doing? How about Aunt Emily? Or Hank! You can't honestly expect me to believe they're all hunky-dory with you standing merrily next to him and acting likea"" Rick halted midsentence as he glanced toward Ethan and saw his perplexed expression. He turned back to Daisy. "He doesn't know, does he?"

She sighed. "I told you already. He didn't read his file."

"Huh." Rick rubbed the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. "What game are you playing, darlin'?"

"I'm not playing any game," she responded, more fatigued than offended. "I'm trying to get Ethan the information he needs so he can finish up his investigation into poor Fred's death and go home."

"And I'm grateful for it," Ethan said.

Rick went on rubbing his chin.

Daisy shrugged. "Tell him. Don't tell him. Do whatever you want, Rick. Just make up your minda"and be quick about it tooa"because it's hotter than Hades standing out here in the sun."

"I thought I was the only one melting," Ethan agreed. He turned to Rick. "Since we'd all rather be somewhere with air-conditioning, let's just cut to the chase. If you make it easier for me, I'll make it easier for you. Don't forget, I'm ATF and you've got a barn full of what I'm assuming is unregistered, untaxed, illegally distilled corn whiskey behind you. I'm sure you don't need me to do the math for you."

With a shrug of his own, Rick said, "He had the lid to a canning jar."

"Who did?" Ethan asked. "Mr. Dickerson?"

He nodded.

"When was this?"

"When he collapsed at the diner."

"You were at H & P's when Mr. Dickerson died?"

"I was. Right next to sweet li'l Daisy."

Ethan looked at her. "You didn't mention that."

"You didn't ask," she replied.

"You seem to use that answer a lot." He frowned.

"Maybe so, but it's true."

Although the frown continued, Ethan directed his attention back to Rick. "So when Mr. Dickerson died at the diner, he had the lid to a canning jar?"

Rick nodded a second time.

Daisy shook her head at him. "Fred wasn't holding anything. I'm positive of that. I looked at his hands."

"It wasn't in his hands. It was in the pocket of his coveralls. I didn't see it until he fell on the tile. Then it slipped partway out. That's what I was staring at."

"The lid to a canning jar doesn't explain how you knew there was a problem with Mr. Dickerson's product," Ethan said.

"It was pink."

"Pink?" Daisy and Ethan echoed in unison.

"I get that she wouldn't know"a"Rick gestured toward Daisya""because the only wildcat she usually drinks is a polite glass of Emily Tosh's gooseberry brandy after Sunday dinner. But you"a"he curled his lips at Ethan with contempta""are from the almighty, all-powerful, all-knowing ATF. You should understand what pink means."

"Well, I don't," Ethan informed him sourly.

Rick's contemptuous smile grew.

"So are you going to enlighten us?" Daisy asked, more for the sake of her own curiosity than to temper the rising hostility between the two men.

"I'll show you," Rick said. "It's better that way."

He started walking toward the house. Daisy promptly followed him. Ethan joined her but stayed carefully behind their leader, maintaining a clear shot in case Rick tried to pull something tricky. When Daisy realized that he was taking them around the far side of the house, she slowed to a shuffle.

Ethan glanced at her questioningly. "Is something wrong?"

"No."

It was a lie, but Daisy didn't care. She was too concerned with keeping her head down and her eyes glued to her feet.

"Are you sure?" he pressed her. "Because you look like you just saw a ghost."

That was precisely why she had her eyes glued to her feet. She didn't want to see a ghost. And they were getting close to one. Too close. They had already passed the far corner of the empty brick patio. It was just beyond that.

Suddenly Ethan stopped. "What the heck happened there?"

Daisy didn't have to raise her gaze. She knew what he was referring to just the same as her own name. Like a brand, the image was seared permanently into her brain. It was a large circular burnt patch. Soulless black at the center, growing gradually lighter gray until it was almost violet at the edges. The earth was so deeply and violently scorched in that spot, no green would grow there for many years.

"That must have been a bad fire," Ethan remarked.

"It was," Rick responded solemnly. "It's where Daisy's daddy died."

CHAPTER.