It had been a long hot day. The kind where the heat hits you like a ton of bricks when you walk outside. The wind was as dead as a body at the county morgue. I had worked a case all day long and had nothing to show for it except a sweat stained shirt and expenses. Like I said, it had been a long, hot day and I was glad for it to be over. Except it wasn't, but I didn't know that yet.
I was at home and ready for the shower I'd needed since four o'clock this morning when the phone rang. I could let it ring, I wanted to let it ring, but my gut told me to answer, and he's the only one who's never done me wrong. Tommy was the one calling. Now Tommy was a neighbor, a guy you could count on when your chips were down, but the reason of this call was as unexpected as a sucker punch to the stomach. He had seen some of my calves where they didn't belong, or more specifically out in a corn field behind his house. It was a case I couldn't refuse.
Questions ricocheted in my my mind like bullets off a brick wall. What were the calves doing? Why did they get out? And who did it? What did it? There was only one thing to do: investigate.
Back out into the heat I went with an eye to the ground and ear to the sky listening for the sounds of moos. I scoured the corn field for clues and you didn't have to be a gumshoe like me to find one. The calves had been there alright and they didn't care to hide the fact.
By the time I reached the top of the hill my dogs were killing me. I hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary and time was running out. Up ahead I finally saw a clue that my blind grandmother wouldn't miss. Let me tell you, dead men tell no tales, but this dead tree had written me a book.
Everything came together like a twenty-five piece puzzle. A tree fell. Calves walked out. It was an open shut case and that is the kind I like.