Bought the Farm

by Peg Cochran

  It might be sauerkraut for one woman and sardines for another. Most cravings are harmless and make for a good story after the baby has arrived.

  But Shelby did worry. She found herself jumping at every sound, even though it was normal noise that she would ordinarily pay no attention to. She’d have been more than happy to leave the farm until this was all over, but that simply wasn’t possible. She was counting on the money from the sale of the lettuces and other vegetables that were beginning to grow as well as those she’d just planted. And the vegetables in her kitchen garden would keep them going through the summer and then be canned to tide them over during the winter.

  Shelby sighed. She couldn’t make sense of Cody’s death. He’d had a strong motive for killing Travis. Travis had threatened to fire him, and Travis had wooed Paislee away from Cody. With Travis out of the way, it was quite possible Cody would be able to get Paislee back and secure his place in the band.

  Shelby thought about it while she made her bed and vacuumed the living room. The rain had started coming down in sheets again—she’d get no outdoor work done today. The holes that pockmarked the driveway were filled with water that looked to be almost ankle deep.

  Shelby was about to fix herself some lunch when the doorbell rang. This time she jumped in earnest. She had to get a grip on herself before the kids got home. If only it weren’t raining—some good sweaty outdoor work would take care of her case of nerves.

  Shelby pulled open the door to find two people on her doorstep: a young man with elaborately shaped facial hair and a woman who looked to be an extremely—and expensively—well-preserved fortysomething.

  “Shelby?” the woman gushed.

  Her hair was a shade of red rarely seen in nature and she was so thin Shelby was convinced that if she swallowed a pea or a lima bean, its progress down her esophagus and into her stomach would be visible to the naked eye.

  “Can I help you?”

  “We’re from WXYZ.” The woman frowned, then seemed to remember that it wasn’t good for her skin and quickly resumed her placid expression. “You did get our e-mail?”

  Shelby had forgotten all about the e-mail amidst the morning’s drama.

  “We did say we were going to stop by to spec things out. I hope it’s okay?”

  “Yes. Of course. I’m sorry.”

  Shelby led them into the living room, where she glanced in embarrassment at the sofa and chairs covered in old quilts to keep the dirt from the dogs off.

  “We won’t take up too much of your time,” the woman said. “We need to see where we’re going to be filming.”

  “To work out the camera angles.” The young man pointed in the direction of the windows.

  “Too bad it’s such a filthy day,” the woman said.

  Shelby realized she recognized her from WXYZ’s The Hive at Five, a local program offering features of special interest to women.

  “You’re Felicity Sanchez, aren’t you?”

  The woman preened, obviously pleased to be recognized. “Do you watch our show?”

  “When I have time, and I’m not—”

  “We’re very excited about this program,” Felicity cut in. “It’s quite a coup to get chef Michelle Martini on our show.”

  Felicity walked past Shelby and started toward the kitchen. Shelby hastened to catch up with her.

  Felicity leaned against the sink and looked out the kitchen window.

  “Is that where it happened?”

  “Where it happened?” Shelby repeated. “Oh, you mean the—”

  “Yes,” Felicity said, her mouth snapping closed as sharply as a Venus flytrap capturing its victim. “The band was on our show on Friday. I hope you saw it.” She raised an eyebrow at Shelby.

  Shelby made a noise that she hoped would be taken for a yes.

  “I feel just terrible about that young man being murdered. He was quite charming,” she trilled in a flirtatious voice. “He insisted on taking me out to dinner and, well . . .” She let the sentence trail off suggestively. “I’d hoped to have him back on the show alone, but it wasn’t to be.”

  Dear Reader, it looks as if Travis was a real player. Did Paislee know?

  The cameraman was busy texting on his cell phone and hadn’t looked up once since they’d begun talking.

  “And now,” Felicity said, her tone turning brisk, “let’s discuss Chef Martini’s show.” She turned around to face the kitchen window again, pushed aside the lace curtain, and looked out. The window was running with rain. Felicity rubbed some of the condensation away with her hand.

  “My first thought was to set up the cooking table—where Michelle will have all her equipment—on the front lawn with your gorgeous wraparound farmhouse porch in the background.” She let the curtain drop back into place and turned around with her hands on her hips. “But then I thought perhaps we ought to film right in the field.” She laughed. “Right in the trenches, so to speak.”

  The cameraman was still busy texting on his phone. “Darren,” Felicity said sharply. “What do you think?”

  He looked up, blinking like a mole emerging into the sunlight. “What do I think about what?”

  “About where we should film,” Felicity snapped.

  “I dunno. Wherever you want. I can make it work.” And he looked back down at his phone.

  Felicity looked satisfied—as if that was the answer she’d been anticipating.

  “I think it should be in the field, then.” She turned to Shelby. “If that’s all right with you?” It was clear she didn’t expect any argument.

  “As long as the plants don’t get trampled.”

  Felicity waved a hand in the air. “We’ll be careful. Don’t worry.” She tapped her fuchsia-colored lips with her index finger. “If we angle the camera correctly, we should be able to capture the barn in the frame. Do you suppose the police will leave the crime-scene tape up until then? It will add an extra little fillip to the segment to have the scene of a murder in the background.”

  Shelby was horrified but didn’t say anything.

  “Terrible shame about that young man,” Felicity said as if she was continuing their earlier conversation. “We could have had something together.” Felicity smiled. “Oh, well. Onward and upward, as they say.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Shelby sank into a chair after Felicity and Darren left. The woman was a force of nature, Shelby thought. She had a sudden vision of Felicity going head-to-head with Seth’s mother, Nancy. Now, that would be something to see. She actually laughed out loud at the picture. It was good to laugh—she’d been so steeped in melancholy lately.

  Shelby checked in the refrigerator and found the homemade mozzarella she’d made. Billy and Amelia could use it to make pizzas for dinner. She thought they would enjoy that. The telephone rang and she jumped.

  “Shelby? It’s Kelly.”

  “Kelly. Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, fine. As long as you don’t count Seth being a suspect in a murder.” Kelly laughed. “At least I’m getting to the point where I can laugh about it. It really is absurd.” Kelly paused. “But that’s not why I’m calling. I have a craving—”

  This time Shelby laughed. “Starting already, are they?”

  “Yes, and it’s the strangest thing. I can’t stop thinking about the diner’s rice pudding. Normally I hate rice pudding, but all of a sudden—”

  “I know what you mean,” Shelby said. “For me it was rocky road ice cream and fries with malt vinegar. Preferably at the same time.”

  “Do you want to meet me at the diner? You can’t be working outside in this deluge.”

  “You’re right. I’m not. And I’d love to meet you. Give me ten minutes, okay?”

  Shelby was more than happy to flee Love Blossom Farm, if only for a couple of hours.

  * * *


  • • •

  Shelby didn’t see Kelly’s truck in the parking lot when she arrived at the Lovett Diner. The rain was still coming down and she could feel splotches of wet on the back of her T-shirt even though she sprinted as quickly as she could to the door of the diner.

  She took an empty booth up front so she could easily spot Kelly when she came in. The diner was busy with the voices of the diners and the rattle of crockery creating a discordant din.

  Several people were waiting patiently in the take-out line. One young man stood out—tall and thin with shaggy dirty blond hair. Shelby thought he looked familiar and when he turned to leave, she realized it was Jax.

  He stopped short when he saw Shelby and smiled shyly.

  “Hey,” Shelby called to him.

  He walked over and stood by Shelby’s table, his paper bag of takeout clutched to his chest.

  “Hi.” He nodded his head. “Listen, do you know if the police are finished with the barn yet? We’d like to get back to practicing, if that’s okay with you. We still have some work to do on that new song.”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure I’m comfortable with it anymore. Under the circumstances.”

  Jax didn’t look surprised. “We were afraid of that. I talked to Brian and he said he would double what he’s been paying you.”

  Shelby hesitated.

  “Nothing’s going to happen to you. I promise.”

  Shelby was reluctant. But double the money? She’d be able to put a little aside for the winter when things got pretty lean. It was tempting.

  “Please?” Jax gave a big smile.

  Shelby sighed. “Fine. But the same rules apply—you have to be out of there by three o’clock.”

  “No problem. That still gives us plenty of time. I don’t know what we’ll do if we can’t practice.”

  He gave a lopsided smile. “There’s not much to keep us occupied in those motel rooms besides television, and the tension is getting pretty thick. Yesterday Peter and Brian nearly came to blows over who ate the last of the bag of Cheetos.”

  He shifted the paper bag to his left arm. A large grease stain was forming in the lower right corner.

  “And obviously we can’t practice at the motel. The management would have the band thrown out in a flash. As it is, I get the impression they’d like us to leave.” He frowned. “It’s not as though they’re booked up or anything. You’d think they’d be grateful for the business.”

  “I certainly would think so,” Shelby said, thinking of the run-down motel, where there were rarely ever more than a handful of cars parked in the lot.

  “But you live in Lovett, right? Can they practice at your place in the meantime?”

  Jax looked down at his feet. He mumbled something Shelby didn’t quite catch.

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t hear you.” She made a sweeping motion encompassing the dining room. “It’s so noisy in here when it’s busy.”

  “Sorry. I said that I’ve left our apartment. I’ve left Jessie. I’m staying at the motel—bunking in with Peter.”

  “Oh.” Shelby didn’t know what to say. That certainly explained Jessie’s being so upset. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  Jax shrugged, but Shelby could see he was hurting. His shoulders tensed.

  “Honestly, I could kill Paislee.”

  Shelby was shocked. She was sure Jax didn’t mean that, but this was hardly the time to joke about matters like that.

  “Paislee? Why?”

  Jax sighed and his shoulders dropped. “I guess I shouldn’t blame Paislee. What’s that saying? Something about ‘Don’t kill the messenger.’”

  “Something like that.”

  Shelby waited, hoping Jax would tell her what this was all about. When he remained silent, she realized she’d have to give him a gentle nudge.

  “I’m sure Paislee didn’t mean to upset you with . . . whatever it was she did.”

  “You’re probably right,” Jax admitted. “It’s only that I would rather not have known.” He ran a hand through his hair, which immediately flopped onto his forehead again. “Although I suppose it doesn’t do you any good to bury your head in the sand.”

  Dear Reader, what on earth is he talking about? I wish he would get to the point.

  “No, it doesn’t,” Shelby agreed. “I’m sure it can’t be all that bad.”

  Jax’s expression changed so rapidly Shelby was taken aback. A slow red flush crept up his neck to his face and to the roots of his hair.

  “You don’t know what it feels like,” he said, the muscle in his jaw working furiously. “To be betrayed—twice—by your own brother and then by your wife.”

  Shelby heard the tears behind his voice.

  “What happened?” she said gently.

  Jax shifted the bag in his arms again. The grease stain was growing larger.

  “I told you Jessie was engaged to Travis at one time, but he ditched her—left her standing at the altar. You’d think she’d never forgive him, wouldn’t you?”

  Shelby nodded. She certainly wouldn’t forgive a man who had done that to her.

  “So then why would she go back to him?”

  “Jessie and Travis?” Now Shelby was confused in earnest.

  “Paislee told me they were having an affair. It started as soon as Travis came back to Lovett. He came back ahead of the band. Our mother was having surgery—a bypass—and he wanted to be here for it.” Jax looked like he was on the verge of tears. “Why would she do that?” He dashed a hand across his eyes. “How could Jessie do that to me?”

  Shelby didn’t have any answers for him. But she was left with a lot of questions.

  * * *

  • • •

  Shelby looked up to find the waitress coming toward her. She gave an apologetic smile.

  “I’m waiting for a friend. She should be here any minute.”

  The waitress nodded and turned on her heel and headed toward another table.

  Shelby was still thinking about her conversation with Jax when Kelly arrived, and didn’t even notice her come in.

  “Hey, you were lost in space there,” Kelly said as she slipped into the booth opposite Shelby.

  She looked better today, Shelby noticed—she had more color in her face, and the dark circles under her eyes were no longer there. There was still the faintest odor of manure about her, though. Shelby supposed the smell might be ingrained in the soles of the work boots she wore when she was working. Seeing her mud-caked jeans, bleached-out T-shirt, and hair tightly curled from the humidity, Shelby was hard-pressed to reconcile this version of Kelly with the one who had looked so ethereal walking down the aisle just a few days ago.

  “So tell me,” Kelly said as she unfurled her napkin in her lap. “What were you thinking about? It must have been something good. Interesting, at any rate.”

  Shelby laughed. “Interesting, yes. Confusing, too.”

  “Can I help?”

  Shelby fiddled with her spoon, spinning it around and around in a circle. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Well, then, shoot.”

  Shelby wasn’t sure where to begin. “I told you about Travis leaving Jessie at the altar?”

  “Yes. I remember.”

  “You’d think Jessie would hate him, wouldn’t you?”

  Kelly snorted. “I know I would.” She looked at Shelby curiously. “Why?”

  “Because she started an affair with Travis as soon as he was in town.”

  Kelly gasped. “You’re kidding.” She leaned her elbows on the table and put her chin in her hands. “But how do you know?”

  “Jax just told me.”

  “Jax?” Kelly’s eyebrows went up with her voice. “But how did he know? Surely they hid it from him.”

  “Paislee knew and she told Jax.”

/>   “The girl singer? But why would she do that?”

  “I don’t know.” Shelby wiggled closer to the edge of her seat. “It sounds so . . . vindictive, don’t you think? Maybe Paislee spilled the beans about the affair to get back at Jessie or Travis. Or both. To land them in hot water so she could watch them squirm.”

  Shelby spread her hands out on the table. “Obviously Paislee didn’t care how much she might be hurting Jax in the process,” she said. “Paislee and Travis had apparently become an item. But then Travis arrives back here in Lovett and he suddenly takes up again with his former fiancée.”

  “Who is a fool for taking him back,” Kelly said, wrinkling her nose.

  “That’s certainly true. And imagine how Jax must feel. He’s been married to Jessie for a while now. He probably feels he rescued her after she’d been abandoned by his brother.”

  “Or maybe he was in love with her all along.”

  The waitress appeared at their table and plunked down two glasses of water dripping with condensation.

  “Know what you want?” she said as she slid two plastic-coated menus onto the table.

  Kelly’s face lit up. “An order of rice pudding for me.” She frowned. “No, make that two orders.”

  The waitress looked Kelly up and down, shrugged, and turned to Shelby. “And you? You want to look at the menu?”

  Shelby shook her head. She realized she was starving. “I’ll have the turkey club on whole wheat, please. And a lemonade with plenty of ice.”

  “You’ve got it,” the waitress said, retrieving their unopened menus.

  “So Jax had plenty of reasons to hate Travis,” Shelby said when the waitress was out of hearing range. “Travis had the singing career that Jax wanted for himself. And because of the accident Travis caused, Jax hadn’t been able to pursue his dream.”

  “Yes,” Kelly said, her eyes lighting up as the waitress slid two dishes of rice pudding in front of her.