Bought the Farm Mysteries Books 1-3
Page 6
Kellan held up one hand to fend her off. “No one’s accusing anyone. I’m just asking a question.”
“Jilly, it’s okay,” I said. “The sooner he gets through his list, the sooner we’re hosting vipers, okay?” I turned to Kellan. “But seriously. You really think I’m a suspect?”
“It’s called due diligence,” he said. “It’s your property and you had a dispute with the deceased that day. I need to ask.”
I glanced at my brother and found his eyes on his boots. “You can’t seriously think I’d murder someone, Asher?”
He gave a quick shake of his head, still avoiding my eyes. “Due diligence, like the chief says.”
I turned back to Kellan. The panic was mixed with hurt. How could he think so little of me, after what we once had together? People don’t change that much, even after 15 years.
“You must have forgotten I got scholarship offers from six colleges,” I said. “Even if I were the murdering type, I wouldn’t be stupid enough to kill someone right here when I’m opening an inn in three weeks.”
“I didn’t forget. A high IQ never stopped someone from a crime of passion.”
“I barely knew Lloyd even in high school. How could I develop any passion for him?”
“Well, he threatened your dog.” His gray eyes were cool. “You’re obviously very fond of said dog. I heard you were plenty passionate when you rescued him.”
I glared at Kellan in silence then turned the glare on Asher, who flicked his eyes up long enough to shake his head and mutter, “Not me.”
Kellan shoved his hands in his pockets and I realized I’d forgotten to give him back his belt the night before. “I know how to use Google,” he said. “The story was covered by many media outlets.”
“Okay, got it. You think I gave up my old life to start over in my hometown, only to blow a huge opportunity a week later. Over Lloyd Boyce.”
“Lloyd Boyce could have been an impediment to your business plan. He was prominent in our community for his work in Animal Services.”
“Prominent but not respected or liked,” I said. “The people I interviewed this morning said Lloyd had plenty of enemies—some who shot at him. Why aren’t you interviewing them instead of making spurious accusations here?”
Kellan’s eyes narrowed. “You were interviewing people? Don’t get in the way of this investigation, Ivy. It’s official police business.”
My eyes narrowed too. “I was interviewing people for positions here at the farm, if you must know. But all they wanted to talk about was the Lloyd situation.”
Kellan had the decency to look sheepish. “Okay.”
“That said,” I continued, “I’ll happily interview anyone who might be able to chase away the clouds currently gathering over my farm.” I pointed up at sky, where the sun had gone in again. “This is the chance of a lifetime, Kellan, and I don’t intend to let Lloyd’s untimely death in my rye field ruin it.” I paused for a second. “Did he actually die in my field?”
Kellan said nothing, but Asher’s head twitched a negative.
Jilly spoke up again. “If he didn’t die in the field, where did this heinous crime happen?”
Asher covered his mouth and coughed, “Barn.”
“Asher, desist,” Kellan said.
“You mean deceased,” Jilly said. “Oops, another crime etiquette faux pas. How exactly did it happen?”
“Strangled,” I said. “Or so my brother indicated last night.” It didn’t actually feel good joking about it. Lloyd had his share of enemies but that didn’t mean he deserved to be murdered and mocked. “Ash, are you saying someone grabbed him from behind in my barn and choked him?”
“Outside the barn at the back,” Asher said. “Forensics are taping the area off now.”
“We’ll need to interview your farm manager,” Kellan said.
“Charlie went home early yesterday. I’m sure he has a good alibi, because he’s a good person. Just like I am.”
“Most women wouldn’t be strong enough to pull this off,” Asher said, looking pointedly at his boss. “Particularly if that woman tore tendons in her arm just months ago.”
“I practically had to spoon-feed her,” Jilly added.
“Must we discuss that?” I didn’t want to think about the accident at the best of times.
“Just pointing out that the chief is wasting his time grabbing at low-hanging fruit,” Jilly said. “It’s a little lazy.”
“No one is grabbing anything,” he said, staring at her. “This is textbook police legwork.”
“Or an old grudge,” Jilly said, proving his cool gaze didn’t faze her one bit.
“Jilly, leave it,” I said. “Just let the chief do his job.”
He let out a dramatic sigh. “Thank you. And the longer you circle the question, Ivy, the more suspicious you look.”
“Fine,” I said, echoing his sigh. “I was walking in the hills with Keats by five yesterday. And lucky for me, I stopped to chat to someone.”
He got out his notepad. “Name?”
“Didn’t ask. But she works in town, so I’ll take a look around today and drop by the station with her contact information.”
Flipping me his card, he said, “You do that.” Glancing at Jilly, he said, “Enjoy your stay. It won’t be dull.”
“Well, we agree on something,” she said. “But I never liked dull anyway.”
Chapter Seven
If I’d been on the fence about exploring the circumstances of Lloyd’s murder, Kellan’s visit left me determined. I’d have to squeeze it in around my work to get the inn up and running before my first guests arrived.
Hosting a big group so early in the game was daunting enough. But hosting my former colleagues—mostly corporate sharks—was terrifying. Now I had a murder hanging over the inn and had become a suspect myself. I was confident my name would be cleared, but my colleagues would latch onto that if they could. Some of them thought my injury had truly scrambled my brains, especially given the drastic life changes I’d made afterwards. Murder would just make all of it more titillating.
“I’m not giving them the satisfaction, Keats,” I said, as we hip-hopped into town in the truck that afternoon. “I shouldn’t care about what they think, but I guess I still do. That ten years of my life meant something to me. After their stay, I’m putting them out of my life forever.”
I glanced at the dog. He was sitting upright in the passenger seat giving me a good dose of his blue eye.
“Don’t give me that look. You’d want to clear your name, too.”
He turned to stare at the road ahead, managing to maintain his balance as the truck lurched. There were claw marks in the seat because of my erratic driving, but Keats took the bumps with relative grace, like a surfer riding a wave.
“We’ll need to be careful poking around,” I continued. “Kellan will get riled, and I don’t want it to blow back on Asher. Let’s be super discreet, okay?”
This time Keats gave me the benefit of both eyes and then offered the mumbling sounds that had earned him his name. I called him my poet because he was always reciting. Maybe he was cautioning me this time, but I doubted it. He was a dog that liked to sniff around. Border collies were bred to herd but they were happy to take on just about any job. Investigating murder was probably right up his ally.
“Thanks, buddy,” I said. “It’s a bit unnerving, but I feel better knowing you’ve got my back. And Jilly, too, although I’m not sure we’ll ever get her out of that kitchen. It’s a mess already.”
Once I entered Clover Grove proper, I gave my full attention to driving. People were already talking about me; no need to add a rear-end collision to their discussions. Maneuvering into a large parking spot in front of Sneeze, the groomer that specialized in hypoallergenic dogs, I hopped out and Keats followed. I snapped on his leash, not because he needed it, but because people would talk about that, too. As a business owner and murder suspect, I supposed avoiding “talk” would rule my life now.
Keats tipped his head, as if reminding me about using my inside voice. I talked out loud to him a lot, and more lately. Sometimes I forgot how that would look to others, especially strolling down Clover Grove’s main drag.
“Fine. Just use your nose, buddy,” I whispered. “Find this woman so we can get an alibi. Find her Yorkie. Find Sparkles.”
Keats used his nose, and judging by his posture, also his eyes and ears, and maybe even his intuition. We were only halfway down the street when he gave a gentle tug to tell me he wanted to cross. On the other side of the road, he stopped and sat outside Miniature Mutts. The front window had a gorgeous display of tiny ceramic dog houses and dogs of every breed imaginable. If I were the type to collect, I’d want one in every flavor. There were probably plenty of people in hill country whose shelves were full of these. The workmanship was flawless.
Stenciled in one corner of the glass window was the name Mabel Halliday, and while the woman from the hills hadn’t formally introduced herself, a ping went off in my mind. Pressing closer to the glass, I confirmed it. There was a woman bending over a workbench, painting a figurine. I recognized her highlighted hair. Clinching the deal was the Yorkie asleep on the floor at her feet. Sparkles.
“Good boy,” I said, backing away. “No need to go in. I liked Mabel and can’t bear to see her face when she hears I’m a suspect. All we need is a name to give Kellan. She can confirm I was walking in the hills when someone saw fit to end Lloyd on my property.”
Quick footsteps came up behind me and I turned to see Nadine Boyce wearing a simple black suit and sunglasses. “Does he answer?” she asked.
I gave her a puzzled look. “Sorry?”
“Your dog. I could see your lips moving from across the street. Looked like you were having quite a conversation.”
“That obvious, huh? Well, thanks for giving me the heads-up. And yes, he answers, in his way. Just not with words.”
“Well, he seems like a great dog and you’re lucky to have him.” Nadine fell in step with me. “Lloyd would never let me have a dog, you know.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Sorry about what happened to Lloyd, I mean.”
She shoved her purse straps higher and straightened her shoulders. “Thank you. Lloyd and I had our differences, as you know, but I certainly didn’t want him to die. Especially not in such horrific circumstances.”
“On my property,” I added. “I don’t understand how or why that happened. If someone wanted to, uh, remove Lloyd from the picture, why choose my farm?”
Nadine shrugged. “No idea. Opportunity, I suppose. Perhaps they were both there at the same time and things got heated.”
I stared up at her. She was taller than I’d thought when we met at Myrtle’s Store. “Do you know anyone who’d want Lloyd out of the picture, Nadine?” Out of the picture sounded so much better than “dead,” especially when speaking with his widow. They might have been on the road to divorce, but still.
She shook her head. “Not like that. Chief Harper has already questioned me and I told him the same thing.”
“I figured. I’m not trying to undermine him, but I’m anxious to help the investigation as much as I can. Because it happened on my farm, you know. I can’t help feeling there’s a connection to me somehow.”
Lowering her glasses, she looked over them. Her eyes were bloodshot, either from insomnia or crying. “I doubt that very much, Ivy. You just moved here, after all. I’m sure you have an alibi.”
“I do, thank goodness.” I had pegged Nadine as the most likely suspect, but looking at her eyes now, I reconsidered. They looked so… tormented. “Do you?”
Dropping her sunglasses onto her nose, she offered a quick nod. “I was at my hot yoga class. Chief Harper will easily verify that, I’m sure.”
“Okay, well that’s two of us down. How many suspects to go?”
“Lloyd had a long history of annoying people. So long, in fact, that Chief Harper will have his work cut out for him.”
My stomach sank. A long investigation meant my farm’s reputation might not be cleared before the inn opened. I said nothing as we walked past the mishmash of shops on Main Street. Clover Grove was transitioning from old and tacky to quaint and quirky, due to its proximity to Dorset Hills to our west. Our town was now little more than a suburb to the prosperous, dog-focused city just over county lines. Some embraced that, since expansion had plenty of perks. Those were the shops with the pretty antique-style signs with ornate black and gold lettering. Others were less impressed, likely for fear their quiet, rural lifestyle would vanish.
Finally, I spoke. “You said Lloyd wouldn’t let you have a dog. Why?”
Nadine directed her shades down at Keats for a moment. “He said it was because of his job and perceptions. If we had a dog and it was anything less than perfect it would reflect badly on him in his job. That he couldn’t sanction other people’s dogs if ours was merely average.”
“Aw, that’s not fair. No dog is perfect. Even Keats.”
He gave a little whine, so high-pitched I hoped only my trained ear could hear, but Nadine looked up, startled, and her shades slipped down her nose.
“Did he understand that?” she asked.
I laughed. “I don’t know how his brain operates. He’s very clever, but he probably just picked up a signal from me and decided to talk back. He has opinions.”
“Well, he’s wonderful.” A smile lit up Nadine’s face and I could see she was very pretty, though understandably drawn right now.
Keats wagged his tail, which was a rare enough occurrence. He took life seriously, and wagging was generally for lesser dogs. I shifted the leash to my right hand and touched his head with my left. “He is. Nadine, I’m not joking when I say my life totally changed when I got him. Now that Lloyd’s out of the picture, there’s no reason you can’t have a dog of your own.”
“I suppose. I’m just so busy with my real estate business.”
“Choose a small breed that you can take everywhere. Dogs are a great icebreaker.”
“For people who like dogs.”
“Who’d want to live here if they didn’t?” I asked. “At the rate we’re going, this town is becoming a clone of Dorset Hills—except people can still afford homes here.”
“True enough.” She’d brightened a bit, perhaps considering her breed options. Then her face fell again. “He was such a hypocrite. I couldn’t have a dog, but he could have his pets.”
“Lloyd had pets?”
“If you want to call them that.” She shuddered, and her purse slipped down her arm to slap her hip. “I certainly didn’t. He had a thing for reptiles.”
“Oh. Ew.” I shuddered, too. “I’m not a fan myself. What type did he have?”
“Snakes, for starters. One large enough to squeeze him to death. And some smaller crawlies.” She crossed her arms and hugged herself. “Imagine living in the same house with them. My fridge was full of dead mice and crickets.” Her voice sounded a little strangled as she added, “I moved out when the tarantula moved in. Even though he’d built what he called a ‘safe room.’ I certainly never felt safe.”
“Where was this safe room? In the basement?”
She nodded. “With a secret panel.” After a pause she raised her eyebrows over the shades. “These weren’t exactly legal pets, you see.”
“No?” I was grateful then for my well-honed ability to keep my voice neutral. “I suppose he encountered some exotic creatures in his work.”
“You say exotic, I say revolting. Lloyd was so fascinated that he couldn’t surrender them.” She shoved her purse back onto her shoulder and picked up the pace. “That’s why he was a hypocrite. One rule for him and another for everyone else.”
I picked up my pace, too. “Well, I’m sure Chief Harper wi
ll have the reptilian menagerie removed and you can sell the house. A dog will go far to erase these bad memories.”
Her jaw set in a way that told me she hadn’t shared news of the reptiles with the police. Perhaps she worried about how Lloyd’s behavior would affect her reputation and business. Or perhaps she just had such a grudge against the creatures that she wanted them to die.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to the police,” she said at last. “I don’t really want people to know about Lloyd’s secret zoo just yet. There will be an uproar when people realize his double standard, and that will reflect on me, because I didn’t turn him in. I’ll look like a hypocrite myself, even though it was all his doing.”
“I see.”
“People might not trust me in business, when really one has nothing to do with the other.”
Time for a corporate dodge and weave. “Reptiles elicit such strong reactions. I can see that story would travel quickly.”
“Ivy.” Nadine grabbed my arm. “I’m going to dispose of them myself, just as soon as I research how to do it without getting killed in the process. Then it won’t affect my reputation or the value of my property.”
“But in the meantime, they might starve, Nadine. Have you fed them, at least?”
“I am not going in there until my nerves settle and I know what I’m doing.”
I sighed. “I’m no fan of reptiles, but I’ll do it for you. Just tell me where to find the key and the safe room.”
The shades came right off and she made a move to hug me. Luckily Keats was in the way and he didn’t give her space. Neither of us enjoyed public displays of affection, outside of our small inner circle.
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this,” she said. “I promise when you’re ready to sell Runaway Farm that I’ll make it so worth your while.”
“I’ll never sell Runaway Farm,” I said. “I’m working hard to clear its reputation and I’d appreciate anything you can do to help. The sooner this mystery is solved, the better.”