Give Em Pumpkin To Talk About (Pumpkin Patch Mysteries Book 1)

by Joyce Lavene

  Another two shots were fired. The first one hit the side of the house. Someone yelped after the second shot.

  “See? I told you. We should hide until the sheriff gets here,” she recommended.

  “I’ll take a look. You go inside. There’s a reasonable explanation for this. Believe me, the man who killed George and Leland didn’t take random shots before he hit them. He was an expert. This is something else.”

  “I’m not going in the house—not if you’re going to see what’s happening. I’m your attorney, and my land is keeping you out of jail. I’m going wherever you’re going.”

  “All right.” He helped her to her feet and kept hold of her hand as they started toward the house. “Thanks for thinking you were saving my life, anyway. Or was it just making sure I go to court in one piece?”

  “Concentrate,” she hissed. “You’ll get us both killed. I know you don’t think Mace is guilty, but I don’t think you are either, and I know I’m not. Someone has already killed two people here. We have to be careful.”

  He gently squeezed her hand. “All right. Let’s be very careful. Keep your head down.”

  They walked around the side of the house staying close to the overgrown shrubs. There was no sign of anyone and no more gunfire.

  “Do you think he heard us and he’s escaping along the river to Kathy’s property? Maybe we should call her and let her know.”

  “Can you really imagine him escaping along the river?” Jack asked in a low voice. “He fell in twice when he came out to measure how long your part of the shoreline is before you got here.”

  “I hope he’s not headed toward the Pope house,” she whispered.

  “I hope not too. Gray might shoot him.”

  There was a rustling from the poplar trees beside the barn. Sarah picked up a rusted piece of metal—probably some part of an old tractor—and got ready to defend herself.

  “Just stand back here a minute,” Jack advised as he put both their backs against the barn wall. “Let’s make sure you aren’t about to attack a deer or a skunk.”

  But it was two men. Mace, and a man Sarah didn’t know, finally walked away from the tree line. She held her breath when she saw that both men were covered in blood. The realtor was limping, and the man next to him was holding his hand over his side.

  “Nash.” Jack stepped away from the wall. “What the hell are you doing out here? The turkey shoot isn’t until November.”

  “Thank God you’re here!” Mace released his hold on the heavyset man beside him. “Mr. Hudson wanted to try hunting out here to get the lay of the land.”

  “First time with a gun in his hands?” Jack knelt before Mr. Hudson and checked the wound in his side. “How did you manage this?”

  “The bullet ricocheted.” Mace winced in pain “But he kept on firing, even after he’d shot me in the foot.” He looked toward where Sarah was standing. “I’m sorry, Ms. Tucker. But I’m sure this will all work out.”

  “Not with me buying the place,” Hudson wheezed. “I’m probably dying. If not, my wife is going to kill me. She warned me about this. I just wanted to see what it was like.”

  “Lie down here, Mr. Hudson,” Jack said. “I don’t think you’re going to die, but you’ve got a bullet in your gut. That’s never a good thing. Could someone with a cell phone call for an ambulance?”

  Sarah called for an ambulance as Mace slowly sank to the ground, groaning as he cradled his foot. Sheriff Morgan rolled up right after and called out her name when he saw the condition of her car in the driveway. She yelled back to him, and he found them waiting beside the barn.

  “What’s going on out here now?” he asked in a disbelieving tone as he took in the injured men. “Please tell me you didn’t shoot these two, Jack.”

  “No. He was with me when it happened.” Sarah held her hand on Mace’s foot to stop the bleeding.

  Between them, Mace Nash and Davis Hudson explained how it had happened. Mr. Hudson apologized for shooting everything except for the duck he thought he’d seen in the trees by the river. He started crying when he apologized for shooting Sarah’s car and the house.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I’m never picking up another gun.”

  “Maybe you just need a course in gun safety, my friend,” the sheriff said. “I’ll call a tow truck for your car, Ms. Tucker.”

  “Then I won’t have any transportation,” she complained. “I can call the rental company. They’ll take care of it and bring me another car.”

  “Suit yourself. The car will have to be towed to our impound lot anyway since it’s part of a crime.”

  “A crime?” Davis scrubbed his eyes with his hands and looked up at the sheriff. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. Do I have to be charged for it?”

  “Now that I’m here you do.” Sheriff Morgan nodded. “Don’t worry. It’s a misdemeanor. You won’t go to jail unless they want to file more serious charges against you.”

  “Not me,” Mace said. “I still want to sell you this land for your new house and horse stable. We can forget about what happened today.”

  “I feel the same way,” Sarah told him. “As long as you pay for the damages.”

  “You don’t even have to pay for my foot. I’ll tell them it happened while I was cleaning my gun.”

  Jack smiled and turned away.

  The ambulance finally arrived as Mace desperately tried to convince Davis that he still wanted the property despite what had happened. Davis was just eager to get on the stretcher and go to the hospital.

  “I think you lost this sale,” Jack said.

  “Yeah. Me too.” Sarah stared at the smile curved across his mouth. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Another buyer bites the dust.”

  “It happens.”

  “Never mind. Help me look for where he shot the house, and I’ll call the insurance company—I hope we still have insurance”

  “Sure. I know where it hit.” He led her to a piece of chipped siding before taking out his knife and removing the bullet. “We’re lucky he didn’t have a Ruger. With his aim, he would’ve done a lot more damage.”

  “But I guess we don’t like Mace for Leland and George’s deaths after all.” She looked at the bullet he’d put in her hand.

  “Liked?”

  “You know.” She shrugged. “Like they say on TV.”

  “It’s been a long time since I watched TV.”

  Sheriff Morgan found them there. “I guess Mace isn’t the killer huh, Ms. Tucker?”

  “I don’t know if this answers that question. I don’t think he was trying to kill Mr. Hudson, but he still bought the same gun that you confiscated.”

  “Don’t worry.” The sheriff dangled a set of keys in his hand. “Mace told me where his Ruger is. I’m going to take a look at it now. But we know the one we have killed George and Leland. Nobody said he bought two rifles, did they?”

  “No,” she admitted. “I guess they didn’t.”

  “Leave the investigating to the professionals, please,” he said. “I know you’re sitting around here with time on your hands because you don’t want to leave until this is resolved, but don’t put yourself in any further danger.”

  “From what I understand, you don’t have to stay because of me,” Jack said. “You can hire an attorney to take care of it so you can go back to Richmond until we find the real killer or I go to trial.”

  Sheriff Morgan chuckled. “See? There you go. You can pack up and head out.”

  “Thanks. I’ll check on that.” Sarah already knew she didn’t have to stay. Anyone could handle the bond issue. But she felt bound to it—and wanted to know what was going on. It wasn’t easy to just walk away from what she’d experienced.

  Kathy pulled up as the sheriff was leaving. “I heard something was going on over here. Sorry I couldn’t get away sooner. Is everyone okay?”

  Sarah glanced at Jack before she went down to talk to her friend. When she looked back, he was gone, along with Sherif
f Morgan. She filled Kathy in on Mace bringing Davis out to try his hand at hunting. The ambulances were testimony to her story as they left with the two men.

  “You’ve had a busy day. I see Jack is in the wind again. Why don’t you come over to my place for a while?”

  “I don’t know,” Sarah hedged. “I should probably wait for them to get my car.”

  “You don’t have to be here for that. If they need you, I’m sure they have your cell phone number. Come on. I promise you a good time and a great meal.”

  “Okay. Just let me change clothes. I have a feeling whatever your idea is of a good time doesn’t involve me wearing this suit or pumps. I’ll be right back.”

  The cell phone rang as Sarah was changing. She’d thought it was the rental car company, but instead it was Ron.

  “I just heard,” he said. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. My car isn’t so good, but they’re going to bring me a new one.” She briefly went through Davis’s shooting spree. “I’m on my way over to Kathy’s place for a while. I’m hoping everything calms down while I’m gone.”

  “Did you get that deed for Nash while you were in town?”

  “Sure. Not a problem. I also paid a visit to the historical museum. Apparently there really was a chest of gold, but the director doesn’t believe it’s buried out here. Jack and I had an idea about it being in the river. That would be ironic since everyone wants to dig for it.”

  “Do you plan to try to find it before you go home?”

  “I doubt it, although Jack disappeared again. He might be out there now.”

  “I’m glad you can still laugh about it. Some people take treasure hunting pretty serious.”

  “I guess I’m not one of them.” Kathy honked her horn. “I should go. I’ll talk to you later.”

  She hung up and finished dressing, putting on her jeans and the old sandals. She couldn’t wait to tell her mother how much she’d enjoyed wearing her old clothes. She’d probably be horrified.

  With a smile on her face, Sarah skipped downstairs. She half expected to see Jack appear in the kitchen before she left. She was getting too used to seeing him around all the time.

  Kathy looked like she was getting ready to honk the horn again when Sarah finally came down the drive. “I was wondering what was taking you so long. Let’s get out of here before something else weird happens.”

  Sarah got in, and they took off. “So, what kind of fun thing are we doing?”

  “Ever make apple cider?”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Sarah learned more about making apple cider than she’d ever wanted to know. She wasn’t overly fond of cider anyway. After peeling and cutting hundreds of apples, she was pretty sure she never wanted to drink it or eat an apple again.

  The company was congenial. They worked with Kathy’s aunt, Cindy. Ben couldn’t be there because he was busy with some other work on the farm. Two neighboring high school girls helped.

  The conversation went through every subject. Cindy had been at the barn-raising, too, and mentioned how good Jack looked without his beard and with a decent change of clothes. The two young girls snickered as Cindy wondered if Jack could be domesticated.

  Kathy shook her head. “That man won’t ever be living happy-ever-after under someone’s roof—not for long anyway. That kind never is.”

  “He’s really old anyway,” Sheena, one of the high school girls, said. “You should go after someone like Ben. He’s hot and not too old.”

  “Excuse me,” Kathy said. “My aunt can’t go after my man.”

  Cindy laughed. “Oh, he’s yours now, huh? I saw him with Alice Spencer one day last week at the Burger Shack. They were both real cozy on the same side of the booth—if you know what I mean.”

  “I’m not worried about Alice Spencer. She’s like a friend he grew up with.” Kathy brought out another bushel of apples. Everyone groaned.

  “When do we get to the fun part?” Sarah asked. “My hands feel like dried apples.”

  “What kind of things do you do for fun in Richmond?” Cindy asked.

  “We go to plays and museums. Sometimes we drive to DC and catch an art exhibit. City stuff, I guess.” Sarah smiled when she saw the expressions on their faces.

  “Speaking of fun,” Sheena said. “The maze just opened yesterday. I haven’t gone through it yet this year, but it was a lot of fun last year.”

  “Especially after dark.” Cindy smiled slyly. Both teenagers laughed.

  “What kind of maze is it?” Sarah asked.

  “It’s a corn maze,” Kathy explained. “They cut a pattern into the corn, and you have to find your way out. I got lost twice last year.”

  “Don’t they want to sell the corn?” Sarah questioned.

  “They’re selling it to make ethanol,” Cindy said. “It doesn’t matter what kind of shape it’s in.”

  “That must be nice,” Kathy replied. “Usually, like these apples, everything has a good date. That’s why we have to make the last of them into cider.”

  “What about those pumpkins of yours?” Cindy asked Sarah. “Are you selling those?”

  “I haven’t really thought about it.”

  “It’s not only about the pumpkins. People use them for pies and pumpkin butter too,” Cindy told her. “Not to mention pumpkin bread and roasted seeds.”

  “I thought it looked like you had a good harvest from the pumpkins I saw at the barn-raising. That’s why I asked.” Cindy started in on another apple. “I mean, I won’t deny that everyone has sneaked into the pumpkin patch down through the years. But you can only carry out so many that way. If we could get your permission before you go, we could come in with trucks and haul them away.”

  Sarah thought about it. Even though Jack said the pumpkins reseeded themselves, it wasn’t necessary to have all of them do it. “Sure. I don’t see why not. They’re just dying out there.”

  “Great!” Kathy said. “Thanks. We’ll come down tomorrow.”

  Ben came in with a young man who was a part-time farm worker. He started the apple press to squeeze out the cider. Kathy explained to Sarah that the difference between apple juice and apple cider was that the juice was clarified. No bits of apple.

  They gave Sarah the first taste. She was reluctant to drink it and surprised when she enjoyed it. “This tastes amazing. Much different than the kind you buy in the store.”

  “No wonder,” Cindy said. “Everything tastes better when it’s fresh. It’s one of the perks of living on a farm.”

  “Whatever you say,” Sheena said. “As soon as I finish school, I’m gone. I don’t care how fresh the food is. I just want to live in the city with all the conveniences.”

  “You’ll come back,” Cindy added. “People always do.”

  Kathy didn’t agree with that. “Kids leave and don’t come back. I’m sorry.” She smiled at Sarah. “Not like your grandparents. I mean people sell their farms that have been in their families for generations. That’s why this area never grows. Kids graduate from high school, and they look for an easier life.”

  “Yeah.” Sheena’s heavily made-up eyes returned to Sarah. “That’s right. You’re from the ghost house. Are you living there?”

  “For a few days,” Sarah replied. “But there aren’t any ghosts.”

  “What do you think happened to those old folks who lived there?” Sheena continued, despite warning frowns from Kathy and Cindy. “Some people say it was aliens and they were abducted. Their bodies were probably dropped off in space.”

  “That’s enough of that.” Cindy got a few more apples. “I remember Tommy and Bess. Something happened to them, but it wasn’t aliens.”

  “What do you think it was if it wasn’t aliens or ghosts?” Sheena asked.

  “I think we should talk about something else.” Kathy nodded at Sarah. “You didn’t know them, and it’s a painful memory for other people.”

  Sheena apologized. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking about it that way. I guess
it’s been so long. It doesn’t seem like anybody would still be alive who knew them.”

  Cindy laughed at that. “You are such a baby. You’d better get some life experience before you go to the city or those people will eat you alive.”

  The conversation topic changed as they continued loading the apples into the presser. At the other end, gallons of cider were filled and closed. Kathy, Cindy, and their helpers sealed the tops.

  Sarah was exhausted by the time they were finished, but it made her feel good seeing the glass gallons of cider at the side of the kitchen. Making something like this was different than the work she normally did—not that she wasn’t proud of the work she did for Clare—it was just unusual to get her hands dirty doing it.

  They all pitched in to make supper. Bits of leftover apple were made into fritters that went along with ham and beans. There were leftover biscuits from breakfast that morning and a new wedge of cheese. Kathy had been trying her hand at cheese-making during the year.

  But Sheena and her friend left before they could eat. They were on their way to meet other kids at the Burger Shack. She apologized again to Sarah for not considering her feelings about her missing grandparents.

  “They’re good kids,” Kathy said when the girls were gone. “They get caught up in too much other stuff that they don’t need in their lives.”

  Cindy laughed as they set the table. “You were exactly the same way. Your mother was so sure you were going to live your life as a street junkie—she didn’t even want you to take an aspirin! Sheena will be fine too. You’ll see. She was raised right, with strong roots. You can’t beat that.”

  Ron showed up at the door just as they sat down to eat. Kathy didn’t say a word, just made room at the table while Ben got a plate for him.

  “What’s been going on with that murder investigation?” Cindy asked with no preamble.

  “You know I can’t talk about all that.” Ron smiled at Sarah beside him at the table. “But we’re working on it. A few new things have come to light. It’s just a matter of time.”