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“At what point did you kill my goose?” Bernie demanded.
Billie Joe shook his head. “What goose? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The big white bird you killed and left on my porch.” Bernie glared at the young man.
“I didn’t kill a goose. I didn’t sign up to kill anything.”
Bernie paced back and forth. “I don’t believe you.”
“I didn’t kill no goose,” Billie Joe insisted.
“What happened next?” Gerard pressed.
“Since the pigs didn’t eat the watermelons the first night, I opened the pen the second night and shooed them out. Then I had to smash the watermelons that had already been picked. He didn’t want you to sell the melons.”
Bernie stopped pacing. “And you had to poison my dog to smash the melons?”
He stared up at Bernie, his brow creased. “I didn’t see a dog. The trailer was there with the melons. I climbed into each box and jumped up and down until they were all smashed. No dog came out. I thought for sure someone would hear me.”
“And since the watermelons made it to the market, you decided to burn down my barn?” Bernie shook her head.
“No,” Billie Joe said. “He said that if I didn’t do it, he’d turn me over to the sheriff, and I’d go back to jail. I had to do it. My parole officer is going to throw the book at me.” He lay back. “I wouldn’t have done it, but I needed the money to bail my dog out of the animal shelter. They were going to put him down. I couldn’t let that happen. Now, he’ll have to go back to the shelter because I’ll be in jail.”
Bernie knelt next to the young man. “Billie Joe, I understand how important your dog is to you. I get that. I can’t keep you from going back to jail, not after trying to burn my barn to the ground. But you can’t let the guy who paid you get away with what he was trying to do. If you tell us who it was, maybe we can have some sway with the judge. At the very least, I can ensure your dog is placed in a foster home, not the shelter.”
Billie Joe looked up into Bernie’s eyes, his own glassy with unshed tears. “You’d do that for me after what I did to you?”
She nodded.
He shook his head. “I didn’t kill your goose or poison your dog. I swear to God.”
“What about the text with the death threat?” Gerard asked.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about. Maybe he sent it,” Billie Joe said. “I don’t even own a cell phone.”
Bernie met Gerard’s gaze.
He turned to Billie Joe. “We’ll get to the bottom of that when you tell us who put you up to this?”
“It was that real estate agent, the one with the big black SUV with his name on the side.” Billie Joe’s eyes narrowed. “Burns. He wanted Ms. Bellamy to sell her place to the big resort trying to move into town.”
Bernie had her cell phone out, dialing 911 before Billie Joe finished talking. “This is Bernie Bellamy. Patch me through to the sheriff.”
“He’ll say I’m lying. No one will believe me over him,” Billie Joe said.
She gave Sheriff Bergeron the information, nodded, thanked him and ended the call. “He’s got a plan he thinks will smoke out Burns. We have to get you to a hospital first. He said he might get the judge to go easy on you if you agree to let him rig you with a wire.”
Gerard nodded. “Burns isn’t going to want to leave any loose ends. He’ll come to you in the hospital to make sure you don’t talk.”
Billie Joe blanched. “He’ll kill me.”
“They’ll have you wired and have an officer dressed as a nurse as your backup,” Bernie said. “They’ll keep you safe. If you want even a slim chance of the judge having mercy on you, you’ll do whatever they want you to do to help them get Burns.”
“You’ll take care of Ruger, my dog?” Billie Joe pleaded.
Bernie nodded. “I promise.”
“I’ll do it.” He reached out and touched her arm. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve all I did to you. I’m really sorry.”
