by Lin, Harper
I bit my lip.
“It was,” I said slowly. “But that was before I met you and…”
“So I made things complicated.”
“No! I was just confused because Nick and I broke up not too long again, and we are pretty new. It’s my fault. I mean, I should have taken things slow with us, not that I don’t want to be with you, because I do…”
Sterling didn’t respond for a while. He kept looking straight up ahead. Soon, we were out of Hartfield and surrounded by snowy fields.
“It’s not your fault,” he finally said. “I have to admit that it was upsetting to me at first. The old Sterling probably would’ve shut you out, but I want to change. Hell, the way I communicate was one of the reasons I got divorced. So I want to be open with you; I want to let you know that I understand.”
“You do?”
He nodded. “It’s hard. I’m sure you had very strong feelings for him and it doesn’t just shut off like that. But I also know that you also feel strongly for me. So I’m not taking myself out of the race. If he’s willing to fight for you, I’m going to fight harder.”
“Sterling…” I looked at him, but he kept looking at the road. His eyes looked sad, but his expression was full of determination.
“I appreciate it,” I said.
“I figured that if you were really set on marrying the guy, you’d decide right away and tell me, right?”
“I would,” I admitted.
“So is there anything you want to tell me?”
“No. I’m not together with Nick. However, since he has to stay in town until the investigation ends, he is staying at my house—in a separate room, of course.”
A dark cloud passed his eyes, but he shook it away. “You haven’t said yes to him, which means that the chances are still in my favor.”
I’d never had two guys compete for me before. It was nice enough to be pursued by one guy that you love, but two? When you love two guys, it made you doubt the love you had for each of them, which was why I needed more time.
Did I want to live an international, jetsetting, but chaotic lifestyle with Nick, or did I want to settle down in my hometown with my first love? Each of them captured a different side of me and I wasn’t sure which side I was favor of yet.
We didn’t talk about it again during the rest of the car ride. Instead, we prepared the questions we’d ask. Sterling would play the bad cop, while I would be the good cop and flirt if necessary. I had let my red hair down and applied red lipstick. A bit of mascara made my green eyes pop.
When we reached the farm, we were ready.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sterling pulled up in front of little grey house at the farm. We rang the doorbell, but nobody answered. We peeked into the windows and saw no one. It was so quiet.
“He must be working in the farm,” I said.
We trekked across the snow-covered field to the big red barn. The two doors were closed, and we knocked and waited.
No one answered and we knocked again.
“Anyone there?” I called. “Mr. Herman?”
When there was still no response, I pulled the door open.
The smell of cow manure hit us with full force and we plugged our noses.
“Pee-yew,” Sterling said.
“Nothing’s more revolting than this,” I said.
Inside, dozens of cows formed two long rows. They were hooked up to tubes and contraptions that mechanically milked them. The cows looked miserable and who could blame them? I would be if I was caged and pumped full of hormones so I could lactate for another species’ benefit. And to be trapped in a place where you were forced to smell your own stink all day? No thank you.
A man was at the end of the barn. He was far enough to be only a dark figure. His features emerged the closer he walked.
“Are you Edward Herman?” asked Sterling.
“Who’s asking?” he said in a cross voice.
The man wore a puffy black coat over corduroy overalls. He was around 60, but still lean and tall. Wrinkles lined his dry, chapped skin, but you could tell he used to be a handsome man by his strong bone structure and bright hazel eyes.
“I’m detective Sterling Matthews and this is my partner Emma. Are you Edward Herman?”
When Edward Herman saw me, he gave me a appreciative smile and a quick once-over.
“Yes,” he said. “Sure stinks in here, huh? But don’t worry. You’ll get used to the smell in a minute. Then you won’t smell anything.”
“I only pray,” Sterling said dryly.
“So what can I do you for?” Edward asked us.
“We’re here to ask you a few questions.”
Edward took a second look at me. “You look familiar. Have we met?”
I smiled and shook my head. “I don’t think so.”
“I’m sure I’ve seen your before.” He paused. “Are you on TV?”
How strange that Edward Herman, the dairy farmer, would recognize me out of everyone in town. I could usually run my errands in town without attracting a second look.
“Actually, I’m a singer.”
“Emma…Emma Wild?” Recognition struck his face. “Oh, I know you. I mean, I know someone who’s a big fan of yours.”
“Really?” I said.
“I’d love to get an autograph.”
Sterling cleared his throat. This wasn’t the time for a fan meeting. He told him we were here about Martha’s murder. Edward’s face fell.
“Good grief!” Edward exclaimed. “A knitting needle?”
“When was the last time you saw Martha Owens?” Sterling asked.
“We’d broken up months ago. I think Martha drove down to visit me to return a sweater of mine. That was about a month ago.”
Sterling raised an eyebrow. “She drove all the way down here just to give you a sweater?”
“Well, I think it was just an excuse. I think she wanted to see me, not that she’d ever admit it. But actions speak louder than words, and I had a feeling she wanted to get back together.”
“But you didn’t want to?” I asked.
Edward leaned against the rail over one of his cows. He stroked the cow’s head.
“No, that relationship was not…ideal.”
“Now, what was all the screaming fights between you two about?” Sterling said.
Edward was taken aback by the question. He looked at Sterling and narrowed his eyes, but he answered the question anyway.
“We did used to fight, which was why we broke up. Martha was a bit paranoid and had trust issues. It was because her husband used to cheat on her.”
“So you never cheated on Martha?”
Edward balked. “What’s this about? Am I a suspect?”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “My partner’s just doing his job by questioning anyone in connection with her. Anything you know would help us with the case.”
Edward regarded Sterling again, but when he looked at me, he softened. “No, I never cheated on Martha. I liked her a lot. I always liked strong women. But all the accusations were getting to me. I couldn’t live with her, so I ended it.”
“Do you happen to drive a pickup truck?” Sterling asked. “You must since you live on a farm.”
“Yes. It’s behind the barn. Why?”
“Someone spotted your truck parked in front of Martha’s inn on New Year’s Eve.”
“Why that’s impossible—” Edward stopped himself from saying anything else.
“What?” Sterling said. “Where were you that night?”
“I was here,” Edward said. “I mean, in my house.”
“Alone?” asked Sterling.
Edward opened his mouth, but did not answer.
“Was there someone here with you on New Year’s Eve?” Sterling repeated with impatience.
“If you have a witness, that would clear you,” I said.
Edward relented and nodded. “Yes, there was someone here. But I’m not at liberty to say who.”
“Why not?”
“Because.” Edward gritted his teeth. “She’s married.”
We were silent for a moment.
Sterling wasn’t rattled. He pressed on.
“So you never cheated on Martha, but you have the morals to get involved with a married woman, huh?”
Edward sighed. “They’re not in love. They’re only together for the children.”
“Who is it?” Sterling asked.
Edward closed his eyes and shook his head.
“I assure you that we’re not here to get involved in your personal life,” I said. “If you tell us who she is, we will just get her statement privately.”
“You promise not to tell her husband?” Edward said.
“As long as you’re innocent,” Sterling said, “there’s no reason to expose your relationship.”
Edward breathed hard and rubbed his temples. “All right. If you must know. She’s the mayor’s wife.”
I suppressed a gasp. Mayor Richard Champ’s wife Eleanor, the perfect Stepford wife?
“She has three children,” Edward said, “so it’s imperative that no one else knows about this. She’ll kill me when she finds out that I told you. They’re grown children, but nonetheless…Richard and Eleanor haven’t been in love for years, and he was away for the holidays. Richard doesn’t know, so let’s just keep it that way. But heck, I wouldn’t surprised if he was cheating himself. They’re only together because of his public image as a family man.”
He trailed off, looking embarrassed.
“Did Mrs. Champ stay the night?” Sterling asked.
Edward nodded. “Yes.”
“We’ll speak to her shortly to confirm,” Sterling said.
“Can you tell us anything else you know about Martha?” I asked. “Did she have any enemies? Was there anyone else she had disagreements with?”
“Well, it was hard for most people to get along with Martha. She often complained about the women who used to come over and knit. She also complained a lot about her son and they fought often.”
“Did they?” I was intrigued. “What about?”
“Martha was quite bossy with him. Telling him what to do all the time and treating him like a baby. Even I was tired of it. There was always something that she wanted him to do, so he never felt good enough. I sympathized with the guy. No wondered he moved out, but took him long enough. He was living with her until he was thirty! But now I hear he’s found a girlfriend and Martha hates that. She had wanted him to take over running the inn, but he refused. Worked as a mechanic now. Good riddance. Otherwise he’d end up a Norman Bates.”
“Did they ever get violent with each other?” I asked.
“Not as far as I know,” Edward said. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if he just snapped one day.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
By the time we drove back into Hartfield, the sun had already set behind us. Sterling got a last minute call. His partner was asking for help on a separate drug case on drugs so we decided to part ways until tomorrow.
When Sterling dropped me off in front of the house, he walked me to the door despite my protests.
“Were you disappointed that it wasn’t the dairy farmer?” Sterling asked.
“I thought it could be,” I said.
“At least we’re another step closer. Another one off my list.”
“I just want this case shut already.”
“It must mean that you’re eager to get Nick out of the house,” Sterling said. “Once we catch the murderer, he’s free to go. Then I’ll have you to myself.”
Sterling came closer, wanting to kiss me. I did want to kiss him—his scent was intoxicating—but given that Nick was inside, it didn’t seem like a respectful thing to do. I quickly pecked him on the cheek.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said. Before I could push open the door, I paused and turned around. “Do you really think it could be matricide?”
“I’ve seen some weird stuff in my career,” Sterling said. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Get some rest,” I said.
“Sure. I’ll call this mayor’s wife in the morning. Come by around ten.”
“Sure.”
When I entered the house, Nick was walking down the stairs.
“How was your day?” he asked. By the look on his face, I could tell that he had seen Sterling walking me to the door from the top window.
“Fine.” I felt guilty, like I was going behind his back.
But I reminded myself that I didn’t owe Nick, or Sterling for that matter, anything. I was the one doing Nick a favor by letting him stay at my place while the investigation was under way.
I told him what had happened at the dairy farm, and what Edward had said about Martha’s son.
“So you think Craig might be the killer?” he said.
“I don’t know. But he did seem highly emotional when he saw her body. Maybe it was an act.”
“I met Craig once,” Nick said. “He joined us for dinner on Christmas Eve. I had just gotten into town and was starving, so when Martha offered some food, I figured I’d eat with them before I set off to see you that evening. Craig was there, but he didn’t know who I was. I just said that I was visiting from the states and here to see some friends later that evening.”
“How did they behave toward each other?” I asked.
“Martha babied him. Told him to eat this and that, and he groaned when she did that. She even put food on his plate when she thought he wasn’t eating enough of a certain dish. He was embarrassed about that, but not angry. We chatted a bit about soccer. He seemed pleasant enough. But he did get agitated a few times throughout the course of the meal when Martha put him down.”
“What kind of things would she say?” I asked.
“She’d criticize his hair, his clothes, and his posture, things like that. She’d compare him to me, telling him he should cut his hair like mine, or dress like me. I didn’t think it was out of the ordinary. Isn’t that what most moms do?”
“And that’s why you got along with Martha,” I said. “The difference is, she probably doted on you.”
Nick had a way with women. His mom also spoiled him a bit too and babied him. Unlike Martha however, his mom never put him down. Instead, she thought nothing and no one was good enough for him, which meant she didn’t approve of me. I was the one she put down. She was too polite to do this outright, but I could tell by the way she looked at my outfit or asked me about my education, which was strange because Nick never went to college either. Nick always said I shouldn’t take it personally because she never approved of any girl he dated, but still.
“She kept hinting that he should be working at the inn again,” Nick said, “But he’d just groan and change the subject.”
