by Linda Lovely
Andy’s head popped up above the right-hand stall’s divider. His smile couldn’t have been brighter if he’d been the proud papa. Welcoming new animals into the world never seemed to get old for Andy. How wonderful.
“Come over here, Brie,” he said. “Want you to meet all the new arrivals, Cindy included.”
Cindy? Ah, the new vet tech.
I peered over the stall divider. Cindy was cleaning the afterbirth off the newest kid on the Udderly block. Yuck. Not among my favorite activities.
Cindy, however, didn’t appear grossed out. If anything, her smile was broader than Andy’s. Had to admit the young woman was attractive. Okay, she was a knockout. Looked like a Doris Day throwback: blonde hair, eyes an innocent wide-eyed blue, a peaches-and-cream complexion made to look all the more wholesome by a dusting of freckles across her nose.
“Brie Hooker, I’d like you to meet Cindy East. She’s had quite the first day as my new tech. The three of us have delivered seven kids in the last hour.”
“The three of you? Where’s Billy?” I asked.
“He escorted Hank and Rita to their new pasture. More excitement than the old horse and mule wanted and we needed room. He should be back any minute.”
Cindy stood. She was a head taller than me but still shorter than Andy, maybe five nine. Dang, I couldn’t find any fault with her figure. And it was obvious Andy couldn’t either. At the moment, his gaze was fastened on her tight little behind as she dusted hay from her snug jeans.
Andy’s face was so easy to read. One of the things that made him so attractive. He couldn’t hide his emotions, even if he tried. In this case, love at first sight. Andy was smitten. I was sure of it even if Andy hadn’t toppled to it yet.
I smiled as I assessed my own feelings. Yes indeedy. I was fine with that. I loved Andy, wished him every happiness, hoped we’d always be close friends. But…yes, there was a but. Though I’d taken my time admitting it, Andy—one of the world’s kindest, most loving men—wasn’t the love of my life.
Like it or not, my match was far more ornery, a bigger and trickier challenge. That is, if he hadn’t been shining me on. I didn’t think so but I was skittish. When it came to handsome hunks who swore their playboy days were over, I was in the you-can-only-fool-me-once camp. My lying, cheating scumbag ex-fiancé had left me with considerable scar tissue.
FORTY-FOUR
By seven o’clock, we finished chores delayed by the birth of seven kids. Cindy helped, and we chatted as we worked. I learned she was in Ardon County alone, her mother keeping her little boy in Greenville until the spring recess at his school. I insisted Cindy join us for dinner. That made ten, not nine, mouths to feed.
One more mouth had little impact on our dining logistics. Six sets of elbows and legs maxed out the capacity of our kitchen table for injury-free dining. I set up a card table in our living room next to the loveseat, while Dad, Billy, and Andy each carried in a front porch rocker. Not much space to maneuver once the chairs were in place.
Though it was theoretically Animal Passion week and Andy was my date, I insisted he and Cindy should sit together at the kitchen table. Ursula declared the other four vacancies at the big table should be taken by Eva and Billy and Mom and Dad.
“Amber and I want to hear more about Mollye’s Starry Skies shop.” Judge Ursula’s proclamation meant Amber, Mollye, and I would join the judge as card table outcasts.
Moll quickly put dibs on the loveseat, thinking it would be comfier than the hard pine rockers. Too big to scoot under the table, the rockers created a long-distance, bowl-to-mouth challenge for their occupants. I eyed my light-colored sweater. I’d be running a race with gravity every time I brought a spoon to my lips.
“It’s everyone for themselves,” I announced. “No waitstaff. Get in line and ladle up your choice of chili. The red one’s vegan, the white’s Mom’s chicken chili. You’re welcome to try both. But, unless you want to use Cashew’s water dish, you’ll have to make do with the same bowl each time you return to the chili pots.”
I hung back until the kitchen parade ended. As I dished up my vegan chili, I was pleased to note the level of both soups had dropped. At least some of the meat eaters were willing to sample my version.
At the card table, I established what passed as Udderly Kidding etiquette by tucking my napkin into the neck of my shirt. “Hey, it’s a small deterrent to tomato stains,” I said. “I like this top.” Everyone at the card table followed my lead, even Ursula.
As I could have predicted, Mollye fascinated her tablemates with descriptions of her store’s conglomeration of products, ranging from witches’ balls to herbal medicines. Her effervescent salesmanship would likely prompt Amber and Ursula to visit Starry Skies before they left town.
I shook off a sudden chill as I recalled what happened the last time Mollye tempted out-of-towners to visit her pottery store. Unconsciously I fingered the small scar left by the bullet.
Without warning, Mollye reached over and flicked my earlobe.
“Ouch, that hurt,” I objected. “Why’d you do that?”
“How many pairs of earrings—gorgeous creations fashioned by my own hands—have I given you? Huh? And do you ever remember to wear them?” She paused to share an aggrieved look with Ursula and Amber. “Can you believe it took me years to talk Brie into having her ears pierced, and she still lets her ears go out buck neckid.”
I touched my bare earlobe. “Oh, Ursula. I forgot to mention. I found one of your earrings at Summer Place. It was lying in the grass between the big house and cottage. Well, what used to be the cottage. The earring’s in my bedroom. I’ll go get it.”
Ursula’s right hand flew up in reflex, checking her right ear, then her left. Both gold hoops were in place. “I haven’t lost any earrings,” Ursula replied. “What makes you think it belongs to me?”
“It’s a gold gavel; you know like a judge uses.”
Ursula frowned. “Not mine. I don’t own any earrings like that.”
Amber shook her head. “Me either. Closest I come to law-and-order jewelry is a pair of earrings shaped like miniature handcuffs.”
“I’ll be right back.” I jumped up, more curious than ever about the orphaned gold gavel. If it wasn’t Ursula’s, who else could it belong to? Mom was an unlikely possibility. She’d accompanied Ursula to the Summer Place cottage a couple of times. But I’d never seen her wear a pair of dangly earrings. Mom’s taste in jewelry was conservative. Usually petite pearl or diamond studs.
I retrieved the lost earring from my bedside table and showed it to all the dinner guests. “Anyone know who might own this?” I asked. “Found it on the ground near Summer Place cottage while the firemen were fighting the blaze that turned the cottage into a blackened heap of rubble. Didn’t have a pocket—or pants for that matter—so I wore the earring to keep from losing it.”
I turned the finely-crafted gavel in my hand, looking at it from all angles. “The little marking says its eighteen-carat gold. Not cheap.”
My ownership question appeared to stump everyone. Negative headshakes all around except for Mollye.
“Hand it over,” she ordered. “I remember noticing this earring in the newspaper photo of you. I kept thinking I recently saw a woman wearing ones just like it. Now who was it? I may not be good at recalling people’s hair or eye colors, but jewelry I remember. I noticed the earring in another news photo. Let me get out my iPad.”
Mollye motioned for us to pull the card table away from the loveseat so she could scoot out. As we started to inch our heavy rockers back, Mollye said, “Oh, forget it. Faster this way.” A second later she’d slid under the table, crawled out my side. How she squeezed through I couldn’t imagine.
Moll had dumped her large bag in the corner to get it out of the way. She picked it off the floor, pulled out her iPad, and sat down in Eva’s recliner. Then she put her feet up and started he
r laptop search.
“Who wants brownies?” I asked. All hands shot up. “Who wants ice cream with the brownies?”
The split was fifty-fifty. I noticed Cindy wavered on the ice cream until Andy’s hand flew into the air.
“I’ll clear the bowls and dishes,” Eva said as she began carting dirty dishes to the sink. “Everybody else keep your fannies in you seats. It’s a one-butt kitchen, but luckily Brie’s and my behinds are both small.”
Eva cut generous brownie wedges while I scooped ice cream into five bowls. “I’ll deliver these,” she said. “You dish out the brownie-only requests.”
Once everyone but Mollye had a brownie, I delivered a plate to her easy chair. “Any luck?” I asked.
Moll swiveled her screen in my direction. “Just found it. Guess who? You say you picked the earring up in the grass at Summer Place, right? What in heavens name would she be doing there?”
I stared at the photo of Ruth Toomey. I didn’t answer Mollye, though I had some idea about what might have prompted Ruth to visit. Could she be our arsonist? All Andy and I saw was a blurred image of someone sneaking past Summer Place in a dark hoodie. We assumed it was a man. Maybe we were wrong, dead wrong.
Judge Ursula turned in her chair. She’d heard Moll’s “found it” line. The folks seated in the kitchen had moved on to other topics of conversation once brownies were served. They weren’t paying attention to the living room outcasts.
“Don’t keep us in suspense, Brie,” Ursula commanded. “Who owns the mystery earring?”
My mouth went dry. I didn’t want to say the name. Several of Udderly’s dinner guests had no idea there was any link between Ursula, Amber, and Ruth. They were certain to ask the same question as Mollye: What would Ruth Toomey be doing at Summer Place?
While I pondered what to say, Mollye blurted, “It’s Ruth Toomey. Back when the White House made her father’s Supreme Court nomination official, Toomey posed with his wife and daughter for a photo op. Ruth’s wearing these gavel earrings. I’ll bet her dad gave ’em to her in honor of his nomination.”
The surprise revelation literally jolted Ursula and Amber out of their seats. Both lost their cool. Jumping up, they knocked the card table askew, sending two plates of brownies and one brownie-and-ice cream bowl crashing to the heart pine floor.
That got everyone’s attention.
“What the heck is going on in there?” Eva demanded.
“Mollye just identified an excellent arson suspect.” Ursula balled her fists. Her breath came in fast pants. “It appears Ruth Toomey lost an earring while making her escape after setting fire to the cottage. Setting a fire that almost killed Amber and Ursula.”
Amber put a hand on her mother’s sleeve. “Ursula, you’re jumping to conclusions. There’s no real evidence against Ruth. For all we know, dozens of people may have those gavel earrings. Or if the earring is hers, she could have lost it before the fire or loaned it to someone else. We’ll tell the sheriff about the earring. Let him investigate.”
Mollye held up a hand. “Hate to tell you but Sheriff Mason’s out of town for his niece’s wedding. Lucky for us my fiancé’s working tonight. I’ll call him.”
She pulled her cell from her pocket before anyone could object. “Danny, honey, need you to come to Udderly Kidding Dairy right away.”
The room went silent as Mollye listened to the deputy’s response. “No, no. No trouble with the True Believers, at least not at the moment. We’ve uncovered new evidence about the arson at Summer Place.”
As soon as she hung up, Mollye scanned the room. “Am I the only one who hasn’t a clue why any Toomey would want to torch Brie’s cottage? Sure Pastor and Jeannie Nickles are Ruth’s grandparents, and they’re saying Brie murdered Harriett. But I can’t see how that gives Ruth a motive to set the cottage on fire. Come on, what’s the story?”
Moll arched her eyebrow as she lasered her tell-all glare at me.
Nope, wasn’t going to work. I refused to say a peep. Not my place.
Everyone had abandoned their seats, sensing the electricity in the air. For most, however, the source remained a mystery.
Amber awarded Ursula a sad smile. “Would you let me explain?”
Ursula’s chin dipped forward in a small nod.
The police detective offered a sanitized, partial version of the facts for those members of the Udderly assembly who didn’t know the background. She explained that Toomey impregnated Ursula while his new wife was pregnant with Ruth. Amber added that Toomey threatened Ursula with dire consequences if she made Amber’s parentage public.
“So,” the detective summed up, “if Ruth believed knowledge of a bastard child might imperil her father’s nomination, she had a credible motive to remove the threat. If the fire killed Ursula and me, problem solved.”
Amber provided her recitation in a monotone. Her eyes held the only hint of pain. I knew she’d hoped to become Ruth’s friend even if they kept their half-sister relationship secret. It had to cost Amber, accepting the possibility Ruth might have tried to kill her.
The detective’s report left out key details—namely, the date-rape aspect of her conception and Toomey’s demand that Ursula get an abortion. Amber also gave no hint as to how Ruth might have discovered her father’s infidelity.
Why? Did Amber still hope to contain the more salacious aspects of the story? Did she fear she’d damage her relationship with Ursula if she confessed she’d been in touch with Ruth?
Only one thing seemed certain. Amber’s strategy—the reason she gave for wanting to meet Ruth in person—couldn’t work. Even if Ruth were innocent and wanted to cooperate with Amber, she’d never persuade her father to withdraw his nomination. The carrot had been the promise his secrets would stay buried. Now too many people knew Lawrence Toomey had been unfaithful to his wife. A big part of his damaging secret was no longer secret.
Amber needed to confess that she’d contacted Ruth. If she didn’t, I’d speak up. The Sheriff’s Office needed the facts, and Ruth’s knowledge of her father’s infidelity certainly spoke to motive.
FORTY-FIVE
“Andy, why don’t you take Cindy on home,” Mom suggested. “Think the excitement’s over. As soon as we fill the deputy in, we’ll all call it a night.”
Andy took Mom’s hint: she wanted to thin the audience for this drama’s second act. Andy and Cindy—I’d already started thinking of them as a couple—left after a quick round of thanks and goodbyes. And no goodnight kiss for Brie.
Billy also departed. If he’d been planning to sleep over, he didn’t let on. Said he had early Sunday morning plans. Gave Eva a peck on the cheek and was out the door.
That left the Hooker clan—Mom, Dad, Eva, me—Ursula and Amber, and, of course, Mollye. Still a sizeable crowd. I doubted Mollye would leave even if someone stuck a stick of dynamite in her ear.
Deputy Danny McCoy arrived less than ten minutes after his fiancé’s call. With the absent sheriff out of town, he assumed command. Mollye’s baby-faced beau always had an eager puppy-dog look about him. Yet his demeanor tonight made me sense he was quite capable of barking and growling if the need arose. His engagement to Moll seemed to have bolstered his self-confidence.
“Who wants to start?” Danny asked as he hung his jacket on one of the pegs by the door. “What’s going on?”
The deputy’d been to Udderly often enough to know his way around, and he was acquainted with all the players. He’d sat in on two interviews with Ursula and Amber. The first followed Harriett’s luncheon fatality, the second came after the fire. He’d grilled Amber post-fire, too.
Amber, a fellow law enforcement officer, handed Danny the earring and nodded in my direction. “Brie picked this up on the ground at Summer Place the night of the fire. She didn’t mention it then because she thought it belonged to Ursula. It doesn’t.”
Danny held the golden ea
rring up to the light. “So you’re thinking a woman set the fire and lost this earring while running away?”
Amber nodded. “Mollye found a photo of Ruth Toomey wearing these same earrings.”
“You’re nominating Ruth as arsonist?” Danny looked puzzled.
Amber shrugged. “It’s possible. And before you ask, she does have a motive.” She offered Danny the same edited rehash of Toomey’s slimy history.
The deputy’s eyes grew wider as she spoke.
“Sorry but one thing doesn’t compute.” He looked at Ursula. “If you never shared your story with anyone but Iris Hooker until this week, how could Ruth have gotten wind of the potential scandal? Can’t imagine Toomey confessing to his daughter.”
Good thinking, Danny. I looked at Amber, willing her to come clean.
The detective folded her arms across her chest. “I’ve been in contact with Ruth for several months. We’ve spoken on the phone and texted. She’s well aware I’m living proof of her father’s infidelity.”
“What!” Ursula exploded. “How? I didn’t even tell you Lawrence Toomey was your father until a couple days ago.”
“Science,” Amber answered. She explained how sharing her DNA with a genealogical database that also looked for relatives had identified Ruth as her half-sister.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ursula’s face was scarlet. Tears pooled in her eyes.
“I was afraid your hatred for Ruth’s father might cloud your view of her,” she answered. “I wanted to meet her. Ruth seemed to share my curiosity. I’m sorry.”
Amber turned to me. “Brie, you’ve met Ruth, talked to her. Do you really think she’s capable of setting a fire, trying to burn a half-sister alive? I can’t believe it.”
“What?” Mom’s turn. “Brie, when did you talk with Ruth?”
Deputy Danny stepped in. “I’ll ask the questions. Brie, have you met Ruth?”
