Fruit of All Evil

by Paige Shelton

  It seemed my luck was returning; again there was no one anywhere in sight. The white coats were gone, presumably into the butter barn. I was pleased I hadn’t stolen a butter stamp.

  I dashed to the front of the next white building and ran through the open double doors. I was in another barn, one that did open on the other side to the pasture. Clarification: one that was already opened to the pasture, but the opening was at an angle I couldn’t see from behind the silo.

  I’d gone in the open doors in the front, and my new friend was now trotting through the open doors at the back. She seemed very happy to see me.

  “Oh, no,” I said as I turned to leave the barn the way I came in. But walking directly toward me this time were Shawn and Mid. They weren’t in white coats, but in jeans and T-shirts. They weren’t looking up, but it wouldn’t be long before they noticed me.

  Besides the open middle part of the building, there were bales of hay stacked everywhere. The only place to hide was behind a stack. I backed up and went around the first stack I could find. And my friend followed.

  Moo?

  “Oh, good gracious. Seriously? Shoo. Shoo.”

  The calf didn’t listen, and would surely give up my location quickly. For the briefest of instants, I silently debated whether I should confront Shawn and Mid and tell them I’d explored on my own when no one answered my calls, or hide. Maybe it was the guilt I felt over considering the butter stamp theft, or maybe I was just in sneakaround mode; whatever it was, I chose to hide.

  My friend followed me around the stack of bales and watched as I dived into a haystack and hid amid the sharp, irritating pieces of dry straw. In a flurry, I covered myself and then tried to be still. Except for the calf’s noise and my pounding heartbeat, no one would be able to hear a thing. At this moment, I realized that confronting the brothers would have been the better choice, but it was too late.

  I stood only a small chance of not being found, but that was better than no chance at all. When Shawn and Mid came into the barn, I couldn’t focus on their words. I didn’t know them well enough to know who was who; both their voices were heated, angry. I couldn’t tell if they were mad at each other or about something else. And then the calf distracted them.

  “What the . . .?”

  I felt the footsteps more than heard them as the brothers approached the calf.

  “Hey, what’re you doing in here?”

  “Hey, little girl.”

  I was relieved that the two men weren’t angry at the calf. Poor thing just found me too irresistible to ignore.

  The calf mooed with expression. I was certain she was trying to tell them that there was a person hiding in the straw right over there. Why can’t you see her? She’s right there—that lump in the hay. Look! I hoped they didn’t speak cow.

  “Come on, let’s get back out there.”

  Moo.

  “I don’t think she wants to go.” Whichever one of them said this had a hint of humor in his voice.

  “She must be confused or lost or something. Do you suppose she’s blind?”

  Moooooo.

  “No, she’s just adventurous. I suppose we could leave her in here, but we shouldn’t. Come on, help me carry her back out to the pasture.”

  In the commotion of wrangling the cow, one of the men kicked the bottom of one of my feet. I sucked in a dusty, straw-scented breath and swiped my legs into an unladylike wide-open position, hoping I was still hidden by straw. I stopped the screech that was making its way up my throat and held on to the gasp of air I’d pulled.

  “What was that?”

  “What was what?”

  “I swear my foot hit something.”

  “Your imagination. Come on and help me. I don’t want to hurt her, and she’s squirmy.”

  If the pause had been a second longer, I would have either passed out from lack of oxygen or ripped a tendon in my groin.

  “Yeah, okay, but I’m not done talking to you about the other matter. That cousin of ours can’t get away with it. I’m going to make sure of that.”

  Of course, the last comment got my attention, but I needed oxygen so desperately that I was beyond caring if I got caught. I pulled my scissored my legs closed and rose from the straw like I was escaping a grave.

  I sucked in some clean air and then scurried to the other side of the bales.

  Mid and Shawn and the calf were out of sight, and I wished for some more invisibility luck.

  Whatever I had left wasn’t going to last much longer, I was sure of that. I didn’t have time to attempt more cloakand-dagger maneuvers. I crossed my fingers, and then ran out of the barn and into the open area. If I was going to be caught, it was going to happen soon, but I was focused more on getting out of there quickly than on not being seen.

  Unfortunately, I hit a dead end. From this side, there was no way to get around the house without going to the other side of the milking barn. I was going to have to run back through the courtyard for a moment and make my way.

  The door to the butter-making barn began to swing open. I couldn’t go around the milking barn, and I couldn’t run back the way I’d come. In fact, the only real option I had was to cross the open area at its shortest part, and go through the house itself. I wasn’t thinking clearly as I ran though the space and then to the back door of the house. Amazingly, it was unlocked; I opened it and made my way in.

  I was certain someone—another person in a white lab coat or someone cooking something delightful in the kitchen—would greet me. But no one was inside the house. In fact, there wasn’t anything in the house at all. I ran through three empty rooms. They were probably the dining room, the living room, and a den. I didn’t stop to look closely at all the nothing but flung myself out the front door, which was unlocked, too, and down the porch steps. I kept to the side of the driveway and ran without looking around to see who might be watching.

  I made it to my truck, hopped in, and started the engine. Just as I drove away, I noticed the calf had come to the front of the fence. It must have seen me run down the driveway.

  What I didn’t notice, though, were the two brothers making their way back into the hay barn. They heard an engine rev, but when they looked around, all they saw was a bright orange truck. They didn’t know anyone who drove a bright orange truck, but their cousins did.

  Eighteen

  “You’ve come here either to break up or to tell me about your latest adventure,” Ian said as he looked up from his laptop. He was sitting on his couch, his legs extended onto the coffee table.

  “Why would I be here to break up with you?” I asked as I climbed the last ladder rung into his apartment. I joined him on the couch.

  “You’ve been rolling around in hay,” he said as he plucked a piece from my hair. “If you weren’t alone, I assume you’ve come here to tell me about the other guy.”

  I returned his smile. “No, I’m not here to break up. And I must have missed a few pieces.”

  “Good news, then. So, what other trouble have you been causing?”

  Ian listened patiently as I told him about my visit to Loder Dairy. He didn’t interrupt and he didn’t chastise, but the look on his face was none too pleased until I told him about the calf. Then it was all he could do not to laugh. I hadn’t even considered it funny until I saw Ian’s amusement.

  “So, what do you think?” I asked when I was finished.

  “Let’s see—I think that Shawn and Mid would have gladly given you a tour of the dairy, and you wouldn’t have had to trespass, and you wouldn’t have had to hide. And they might have given you one of the butter stamps, or at least sold you one at a discount. Other than that, I’m not sure I have many thoughts . . . oh, of course, I’d love to have seen you with the calf.”

  “You’re probably right, but then I wouldn’t have known what I know.”

  “Besides what you overheard—which might not mean much of anything—what did you learn that you couldn’t have learned on a tour?”

  “The em
pty house.”

  “They might not have shown you through their empty house, but what good is knowing about it?”

  “It’s odd that it’s empty.”

  “Not really. They probably both live in their own homes away from the dairy. Or maybe they’re in the process of doing some remodeling or painting. Your instincts are great, Becca, but I’m not so sure that their house being empty is much of a revelation or a clue.”

  He was probably right, but there was still something about it that bothered me, though it wasn’t strong enough to argue about. Maybe it wasn’t the house, or even what I’d overheard. But there was something there that didn’t sit right. I wasn’t sure what it was, but it might come to me if I gave it enough time, and if I didn’t try to think about it so hard.

  “I know this is going to push the work on the presentation even later, but I have something else I want to do before we get started. Would you come with me on the next adventure?”

  Ian looked at me a moment, then said, “You’re inviting me along? This is a big development in our relationship.” He closed the laptop. “Shall I change into all-black clothing and search for a ski mask?”

  I smiled at his ribbing. “No, I’d just like to go talk to Drew. Since Alan is staying with him, we might be able to talk to him, too. I hope Linda isn’t there. I think I upset her today, and I need to ask Drew some questions. In fact, I should have talked to Drew before talking to anyone else, really, but for some reason that’s clear only now.”

  “How did you upset Linda?”

  “I said some things that made me sound suspicious of Drew.”

  “Are you?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s another long story. Come with me, and you can hear it the same time I share it with Drew.”

  “Sounds interesting.”

  “Come on, hang out with me.”

  “Absolutely.”

  The plan was that after we talked to Drew, we’d go back to my house and prepare the presentation. Ian gathered his laptop, which he would use to help me create a PowerPoint presentation, and then do some of his own work. Not only was he an artist, but he had received a degree in mathematics from the University of Missouri. His mathematical mind had been a huge asset to his artistic career. He’d created a computer program that assisted him with his yard sculpture designs. I could look over his shoulder for hours as he worked the program and created some things that shouldn’t even be able to stand upright. But with considerations of weight distribution and balance, the program showed him how he could put together sculptures that seemed to defy gravity. He could probably make a mint off the program alone, but he wasn’t interested in selling it. He would just continue to use it for his artwork.

  We’d talked about moving in together—this wasn’t as frightening to me as meeting his family was—but the logistics didn’t work. Ian needed his studio and I needed (and didn’t see myself ever leaving) my land and my ultramodern kitchen/barn. Plus, there was George. Neither of us could imagine leaving George. I wasn’t sure what it would all mean when and if Ian purchased Bud Morris’s property for the lavender farm, but I knew that we’d work it out, including taking care of George.

  We’ll work it out, I thought as I drove us toward Drew’s. Not for one moment had I thought of Ian as someone temporary, someone who was just a fling or an affair. Perhaps it was because our relationship had been so easy. We dated and became a couple quickly. It had been a natural transition. Maybe I needed to work harder to appreciate what I had. Or maybe I was just chicken. Decision time regarding the Iowa trip was long past, and Ian was being extra patient.

  Drew lived in a nice, but not too nice, house in Monson. He had built his own life, and Linda once told me that he wouldn’t accept money from his mother. After discovering his ties to the Loder Dairy, I admired him even more. It would have been easy to live off the fruits of his ancestors’ and relatives’ labors, but he chose a path he could call his own—one that was not easy.

  But I still wasn’t one hundred percent sure he hadn’t been involved in his mother’s death.

  The plan was that Linda and Drew would move into Drew’s house once they were married. The people who’d lived in Drew’s house before he bought it were professional chefs. I’d never seen the amazing kitchen they’d created, but Linda had raved about it the first time she saw it. I teased her about being more in love with the kitchen than with the man who owned it. Apparently, it was something to behold, and I’d been remiss in not stopping by to ooh and ahh. Since I didn’t know another way to ask Drew about what I’d heard in the men’s bathroom, I was going to confront him. I should have done it sooner, I knew that now. If I’d talked to Drew first, I might not have had to hurt Linda the way I had. Darned hindsight.

  Maybe I could ease into it by asking to look at the kitchen first, I thought as I pulled into Drew’s driveway.

  The street was tree-lined, and all the houses were similar in their modern-traditional architecture but they were not cookie-cutter designs. The lots were big, giving the houses a good amount of elbow room and large, green front yards. Most of the backyards were fenced off from view with white vinyl posts and slats.

  I didn’t have the sense that I was on a street with a bunch of rich people, but with a diverse range of household incomes.

  “Nice area,” Ian said as he came around to the driver’s door and opened it for me.

  “I think Linda likes it.”

  “Even though she won’t be able to grow her berries anymore? Or will she? Are the backyards big enough?”

  “I don’t think so. She’s probably going to sell the farm, but she isn’t sure. If she does, they’re going to look for some other land, or she might purchase the berries and stick with the baking end only. I don’t think she knows exactly what she’ll do until she has a real taste of what her new life will be like—that is, if that new life really happens.”

  Ian nodded. “I suppose so.”

  Ian’s dream was to work the land like his family had in Iowa. Giving it up for a push lawnmower didn’t fit with his vision, but he’d never criticize. “To each his or her own” was his motto. I didn’t doubt that Linda would be able to move easily into her new life. Her favorite part of her business was baking the pies. She enjoyed growing delicious berries, but that wasn’t her passion as much as the baking was.

  The doorbell ding-donged pleasantly, and Drew answered a moment later.

  “Becca, Ian,” he said uncertainly. “Nice to see you. Come in.” He wore a white T-shirt and jeans. His hair was wet, as though he’d just showered. He’d probably been working out just before we came over—he worked out a lot.

  “Hi, Drew,” I said as Ian and I walked in. “No, you haven’t forgotten that we were stopping by. This is a surprise attack.” The entryway was roomy and didn’t show many signs that a bachelor lived there. I wasn’t much into decorating myself, but I predicted that there would be a table against the wall when Linda moved in. Didn’t all entryways need tables for keys, bags, and so on? The wood floor was polished and showed no sign of wear. There were no discarded socks or random pairs of shoes, the way there had been in my entryway during my second marriage.

  “Ah, very good. Welcome. Can I get you something to drink? You hungry?”

  “No thanks,” Ian said. He looked at me.

  “I’m fine, too, Drew. Thanks, though. We’re so sorry about your mom, so sorry. How are you holding up?”

  “I’m okay,” he said strongly. “I’m making the arrangements for her and getting ready to go. It’s a lot, but it’s getting done.”

  I looked at him a long moment. Was he really this strong, or was it something he’d been trained to be?

  “Good. Is there anything we can do for you?” I asked.

  “No. Well, take care of Linda while I’m gone.”

  “Consider that done,” I said.

  Ian added, “Absolutely.”

  After another long moment, I said, “I
’d love to see the kitchen I’ve heard so much about. Would that be all right?”

  “Come on.”

  Drew led the way down a wide hallway to the back of the house. I didn’t see Alan, or hear noises as though someone else was around.

  At the end of the hallway was the most amazing place I’d ever seen. My teasing Linda about her loving Drew for his kitchen might not have been far off. I fell a little in love with him when I saw the room.

  “Oh, my gosh,” I said as I looked around, kitchen envy spreading through my body.

  “Yeah, I know. The previous owners took out the back wall and extended everything about fifteen feet, which made all the difference. I bought the house two years ago, long before I met Linda. I’m glad she got to know me before seeing this”—he waved his arm—“or she might have fallen for me for my kitchen.” He’d read my mind.

  The room was about double the size of a big kitchen. There were two huge islands in the center, with an aisle between them. Underneath the island tops were dozens of pots and pans, all hanging from hooks screwed into the undersides. I’d seen such things hanging from kitchen ceilings but never underneath islands, and suddenly the idea seemed perfect. There were four double doors, two on the west wall, two on the east wall. I assumed some were freezers and some were refrigerators, but I opened all the doors and peered inside to confirm. I’d been correct, except I hadn’t guessed they’d all be extra deep with shelves that pulled out for easy access.

  There were a three-tub sink, and a six-burner stove top opposite the sink. And there were four extra-big ovens that would probably be able to bake a total of twenty-four pies at a time.

  “Yeah, they overdid it. Apparently, they had the freezers and refrigerators custom made. The company that made them is now producing them for other customers. They’ve become quite the big deal.” Drew laughed. “Linda says it’s heavenly.”

  I looked at this man who adored my friend in ways that you would wish for a friend, and amid my kitchen envy, my heart hurt at what I was about to do, but I had no choice.