Penelope didn’t know much about spy devices, only what she’d seen in the movies, but this one didn’t seem very sophisticated. She thought it might be short range, not looking powerful enough to transmit a long way. But then again, she wasn’t an expert.
When everyone was settled and eating dinner, Penelope went inside the main house and slipped up the stairs to the second-floor. She tried the knob on the third door down, the room was being used as the home office. Peeking in, she saw no one inside, so she gingerly stepped in and closed the door behind her. She didn’t turn on the light because the windows faced out onto the main lawn. If someone walked out from the tent and looked over at the house they would see her. Luckily, a desk light had been left on, so she wasn’t completely in the dark.
“Not good for the environment, leaving lights on like that,” she mumbled.
Penelope had no idea what she was looking for. Some kind of radio, maybe, or a hidden panel with the label “spy network.” She rolled her eyes and slid open a desk drawer, pausing first to look over her shoulder at the closed door.
Nothing electronic was in the desk. Just files and paperwork; what looked like rental agreements with summer visitors to the Truegood property. A file labeled Hefheiser caught her attention and she pulled it out, flipping it open on the desk. She wasn’t quite sure, but from what she read, the Truegood brothers owned majority shares in both Nate’s market and the Hefheiser farm.
Penelope thought it was weird they hadn’t mentioned any of that before. Especially since they were doing business with the farm, and had sent her out to make a relationship with Nate on her own.
“Maybe it’s something to do with the not wanting to mix their two business interests,” she whispered to herself. “But still...”
She dug deeper in the file and found a copy of a letter of intent signed by Nate Hefheiser, to sever ties with the Truegoods. It looked like an offer of a buyout, but Penelope couldn’t tell if it had been executed or not. It was the top document in a larger stack, which Penelope quickly flipped through. A creak on the stairs outside quickened her heartbeat, and she tucked the papers back in the file. She returned them to the bottom file drawer, straightening them one last time before sliding the drawer closed.
The office door opened, and Penelope jumped up from her seat. The office chair spun lazily around a half circle as Jeremiah stuck his head in the door.
“Penelope,” he said with a serene smile. “What are you doing in here?”
Penelope’s stomach dropped, but her face remained calm. “I saw a light on, under the crack in the door. I was in the hallway, heading for the bathroom. Thought I’d turn it off, save some energy.”
“Good thinking,” Jeremiah said, eyeing the chair. “Dinner was amazing. It takes a skilled chef to cook duck perfectly for one hundred people.”
Chapter 40
Penelope lay in bed that night, turning over in her mind Hefheiser Farm, Nate, the Truegood brothers, the market, Nadia, Donald and Heather Matthews, and the film production company. Why would Nate want to part ways with the obviously wealthy brothers? They were his cousins, he’d said. But they didn’t appear particularly close, or friendly even. Farming wasn’t an easy job, or always a profitable way of life. She remembered the calf born at the farm and the obvious pride Nate took in him and the farm as a whole. If Nate had a strong financial backing through the Truegoods, why would he want to end it?
How well did Nadia know Heather Matthews? She must have known her well if they’d been on tour together. Wouldn’t she also recognize Heather’s father? Penelope thought about Nadia’s reaction to the picture on her phone. She had a tell when they were kids: she’d look down and away when she tried to pull off a lie. She’d kept her gaze straight at the screen, which made Penelope think she was telling the truth about not knowing Donald. If he was in trouble with the law, maybe he didn’t hang around the tennis world as much Heather’s mom or another family member.
Tama breathed steadily from the other bed, quiet as always. Penelope closed her eyes and willed for sleep to come.
Half an hour later, Penelope was drifting off, but still partly awake, the puzzle in her mind keeping her from falling asleep completely. Tama silently lifted the blanket and slid out of bed, glancing quickly at Penelope before tip-toeing out of the bedroom.
Penelope pretended to sleep and listened to her movements on the other side of the door. She heard the French doors open and Tama step onto the deck. Penelope let herself drift off, figuring Tama couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to disturb her. Maybe she was reading on the dock or meditating in the moonlight. Penelope’s thoughts drifted and grew soft around the edges as she fell asleep.
Chapter 41
The next morning, Penelope was surprised to see sunshine between the cracks in the blinds. She’d been up before dawn most mornings for meditation and silently thanked whoever forgot to rouse her that morning. Tama’s bed was empty. Penelope wondered briefly what time it had been when she’d seen her leave the room. She was sure Tama hadn’t missed meditation. It seemed like her favorite part of the day.
Lewis and Francis were out on the dock, drinking their coffee. Penelope poured a mug for herself and joined them, turning her face toward the rising sun and enjoying its warmth.
“It feels like we’ve been here for a month already,” Lewis said. He had his bare foot up on the railing and rocked himself in his chair. “When’s the weekend coming?”
Penelope knew “weekend” could mean any two days that they had off together, no matter which days they fell during the week. Sometimes their weekend was Tuesday and Wednesday if production decided to work through the traditional weekends.
“I don’t know,” Penelope said. “It feels like they’re moving through the script quickly, though. Not a lot of retakes so far.”
“What’s this thing?” Francis said, bouncing the brown, fake wood bug in his palm.
“Some kind of speaker,” Penelope said. She had popped the back off the day before and removed the little round battery. It was in her suitcase now, in case someone came looking for it.
They talked about the menu for the day, and went back inside a few minutes later to get dressed and head to the house.
“Where’s Tama?” Penelope asked as they got to the kitchen. Francis began making a pot of coffee and Lewis pulled out a large flat of eggs. They’d decided to do an omelet station that morning for the crew up early preparing for the day’s shoot.
“He can’t do this!” a man yelled from the front hallway.
Penelope’s team froze and looked toward the door.
“Calm down,” Thomas said.
Penelope stepped out into the hallway to see what was happening. She was surprised to see Nate standing there, his face red and his body taut, standing toe to toe with Thomas in the front foyer.
“I’ve backed down before but I’m not going to be weak this time,” Nate yelled. A few of the crew stood on the stairway, watching the altercation. “You’re not going to get away with this again.”
“Nathaniel, take it easy,” Thomas said. “Jeremiah can do what he likes as long as the bank agrees.”
Nate’s face turned a darker shade of red. “Your promises once again mean nothing!” he yelled. He swiped his hand at the wall and knocked a framed photo onto the ground, shattering the glass.
Penelope took a step back, the shock of seeing the normally kind Nate so angry was jarring.
“Nathaniel,” Thomas said again, trying to calm Nate down.
“It’s Nate,” he spat. “I’m not a child anymore. Not like how you and that brother of yours act, playing around up here with your feelings, putting on make-believe out in LA like little boys. Some of us actually work for a living.”
“No one works harder than you, Nathan...Nate,” Thomas agreed. “That’s why we’ve always helped you. We’re family.”
“Helped me
?” Nate asked sarcastically. “That’s a good one. You waited until the bank was just about to foreclose on the family farm. Our family farm, until my father had a heart attack from the stress and died right there in the barn. He begged your father, you, and your brother to help, and what did you do? You let us go to auction, then swooped in.”
“We did it to save the farm,” Thomas said, raising his palms.
“No, you bought the farm out from under us, at bottom dollar. And now my family works for yours, following all your crazy rules. Don’t use this pesticide, don’t ship to customers outside a twenty-mile radius, or to anyone who doesn’t live up to your crazy environmental standards. You don’t know the first thing about running a farm. You work in make believe.”
“Nate, let’s sit down and discuss this over breakfast,” Thomas motioned to Penelope, standing at the end of the hall. Her eyes fell to the shattered glass on the floor, a black and white family photo underneath the shards.
Nate’s eyes bored into Penelope’s and his expression hardened. He turned to go without another word, stomping down the back steps to his truck. He peeled down the driveway, a dusty cloud from the gravel trailing behind him.
“What happened?” Penelope asked Thomas in the foyer after the dust had cleared and everyone had gone back to their tasks.
“I don’t know. This time,” Thomas said. “I do know he and Jeremiah have always gone at it, ever since we were kids.”
“But what happened today to make him flip out like that? Was it something we did?”
“Why would you say that?” Thomas asked.
“Well, honestly, I had no idea there was a family connection between you guys until I found out for myself. Weird no one mentioned it. And I obviously didn’t know there was hostility, but I should have figured it out, I guess,” Penelope said. She remembered the paperwork she had found upstairs in the house and decided the family tension had gone back a ways. “What set Nate off today?”
Thomas put his hands on his hips and considered for a moment. “Nathaniel’s grandfather owned a service station out on the main road. It’s been out of business going on ten years now, but he’s held onto it, hoping to bring it back one day,” Thomas said.
“I think I know which one you mean,” Penelope said. He motioned for her to take a seat on the bench swing next to him.
“Jeremiah just put an offer in to buy it,” Thomas said.
“Well, that’s a good thing, right?” Penelope said.
“Not according to Nathaniel,” Thomas said. “To him that means my side of the family now owns everything his side of the family once did. Plus, Jeremiah wants to tear the station down and build a high-end bistro, a tourist spot for the summer people and the skiers. The same rich ones who rent out this whole place for a month without thinking twice about the cost. His idea is to get a celebrity chef to move to Micklesburg, make it a destination spot.”
“Well, Nate can refuse the deal, right?” Penelope said.
“Not if Jeremiah forces the issue, decides to let the farm go if he doesn’t get his way,” Thomas said, shaking his head. “Our ownership and investment keep it going. Without us, Nate and the farm would go under in a year, maybe sooner.”
“So, Nate’s livelihood is dependent on the two of you. He’s got no choice then, really,” Penelope said. “I mean, I guess he could stop living the only life he’s ever known. Stop working on the farm that has been in his family for hundreds of years.”
Thomas looked at her sheepishly.
“Basically, Nate’s in a position where he has to sell the station, or risk losing the farm,” Penelope said evenly.
One of the production SUVs turned into the driveway. Jeremiah was at the wheel, and Penelope was surprised to see Tama in the passenger seat. He parked the car and they stepped out, Tama carrying a mesh bag of produce.
Tama shot her a glance as they climbed the porch steps. Penelope gazed at her from the swing.
“Jeremiah, let’s talk inside,” Thomas said, standing up and motioning him through the front door.
“Where were you?” Penelope asked after the brothers had gone inside. Tama had her chef coat slung over one arm, and she was wearing jeans and a t-shirt with their culinary school logo on the front.
“I went with Jeremiah into town after meditation. He had something to do at the courthouse that took longer than expected. I wanted to get some lemons for you. I saw your notes in the kitchen about making a curd.”
Penelope softened a bit but kept her eyes steady.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” Tama said. She looked Penelope in the eye, her expression serene.
Penelope finally said, “I was a little worried when I couldn’t find you. Next time, leave a note so I know you’re okay.”
“I didn’t know I was going to be late or I would have,” Tama said.
“A note, Tama,” Penelope insisted. “It takes two seconds.”
Tama nodded. “Yes, Chef.”
“The guys are in the tent. Go help get breakfast ready,” Penelope said. “It already feels like a very long day around here.”
Chapter 42
Lunch and dinner were going to be served up at the courts again that day. They had a smaller crowd to feed, but a number of extras had been hired to add background to an argument scene between Arlena and her costar, the guy playing Phil Neer.
Penelope watched the young man play opposite Arlena. He had such fine features and a delicate nose, but he was convincing when he played angry. As was Arlena, although for her it wasn’t quite as much of a stretch for Penelope to imagine. She and Arlena had never been in a real argument, but they’d lived together long enough for Penelope to witness many emotions, and vice versa. She thought about the last night she’d spent with Joey, how he’d talked about living together. She knew that would be completely different than living with just a friend, but it also followed the logical train of thought that it would deepen their relationship, and change it in many ways. Penelope sighed, thinking she hadn’t had a chance to call him the past day, and she missed hearing his voice. But she also secretly welcomed this brief time apart. It gave her time to think about her decision without the pull of him near her, without her emotions taking over and making decisions for her.
Jeremiah wrapped the scene, and her team worked through lunch. She was proud of them. This wasn’t the easiest set to manage. The easiest was a sound stage in a big studio, if she told the truth. All of this running up and down the mountain added a new dimension to their jobs, and she was proud of how they all rolled with the flow.
“I’ll run the stuff back down to the house today,” Penelope said. “Lewis, you come and help me. You two,” she nodded at Tama and Francis, “start prepping dinner.”
Nadia and Arlena sat in their usual place, eating salads together again. Penelope slipped out without talking to anyone, anxious to get back to the house then take a moment to call Joey.
Penelope pulled into the familiar parking lot of what she now knew was Nate’s gas station. Or soon to be not his gas station. It still looked sad, no matter who owned it. She wondered what Nate’s parents had been like when they were young and building a life together here. Before things changed for them.
She pulled her phone from the glove box and called Joey, a smile spreading on her face at the anticipation of hearing his voice.
“You aren’t going to believe it,” Joey said first.
“Hello to you, too,” Penelope said.
“We caught the boys,” Joey said. “The ones who attacked Sonya’s cafe.”
“Oh wow,” Penelope said. “When?”
“Earlier this morning,” Joey said. He was keeping his voice down, but Penelope could hear the excitement. “They were living in a house with half a dozen other guys, all Russian nationals, most of them here illegally.”
“That’s so great, Joey,” Penelope said. “What
a relief to have justice for Sonya’s family.”
“It was your tip that led us to them,” Joey said. “The team jersey and jackets aren’t sold anymore, but you can get them online. We tracked a box of them to a memorabilia store two towns over. The shop owner gave us a name and location.”
“That was good of him,” Penelope said.
“Well, he didn’t want to, but he had some outstanding warrants of his own, tax problems, so he decided cooperating with us was better than the alternative,” Joey said.
“Well, I’m glad he did the right thing, however it happened.”
A pickup truck passed by, and Penelope glanced over as it slowed near the gas station’s parking lot. Traffic was so infrequent on this road, she thought it might be one of the only vehicles she’d seen out here. The truck came almost to a stop as the driver tapped the brakes. The back window was too dark to see through. The tags were an unfamiliar light blue, with the words “Live Free or Die” blazed across the top. The numbers and the rest of the plate were obscured by mud splatter that went up both sides of the truck.
“Live Free or Die,” Penelope said softly.
“They also admitted they robbed the coffee shop, too,” Joey continued.
“They did?” Penelope asked. The pickup truck came to a stop and the driver revved the engine. Penelope sat up straighter in her seat. “I thought the witness said the robber was Hispanic.”
“The witness was mistaken, I guess. We were able to connect fingerprints to both crime scenes,” Joey said.
The pickup truck began rolling forward again, and Penelope eased back in her seat.
Murder on the Rocks Page 18
