09 The Clue at Black Creek Farm (7 page)

“Sure, here's mine,” she said, handing her smartphone over.
Success!
“Let me just type in the pass code . . . there.”

“Thanks,” I said sincerely. “I'm just going to, um, take this over there”—I gestured to a picnic table behind a small copse of trees—“so you don't hear him lecture me about changing plans at the last minute.
Soooo
embarrassing!”

Lori and Bess nodded understandingly as I took the phone and darted over to the tables, out of sight. I heard Bess asking Lori a question about her school's football team as I made my escape.
That's it, Bess, cover for me,
I thought as I sat down and looked at the phone. As much as Bess hadn't wanted to come along on this interview mission, she was doing an amazing job of cozying up to Lori and getting information.

I went to the phone's history first: recent calls and voice mails. There was one voice mail from yesterday, but when I listened to it, it was just a classmate asking Lori for the algebra homework assignment. None of the placed calls looked unusual—all local, within our area code. No familiar names in her contact list aside from Sam Heyworth.

So I went to texts. There were several from the day before, setting up a meeting with her friend Haley at the library to study after she finished at Black Creek Farm. A couple of texts to her mother, updating her on where Lori was. Nothing seemed unusual, and nothing
seemed to contradict Lori's story that she'd left the greenhouse looking fine—but unlocked. A quick search through her personal e-mails turned up a crush on a classmate named Jason, but no useful information having to do with Black Creek.

So far there was no proof that anyone at Sunshine Farm had sabotaged Black Creek Farm.

I hid any signs of my snooping and walked back to Lori and Bess, holding out the phone.

“. . . I don't know,” Lori was saying with a shy smile, “
maybe
he likes me? But it's so hard to tell. I've known him since I was, like, in diapers.”

“If only boys would tell us what they were thinking, huh?” Bess replied sympathetically. “But maybe that would make it too easy.”

“Easy is good for me. I like easy,” Lori said. She looked up as I approached. “Did you get your dad?”

I nodded. “Yeah, he was actually fine with it. Thank goodness!”

Lori took the phone from my hand with a smile and tucked it back into her pocket. I glanced at Bess
and raised an eyebrow, trying to send the message:
Did you find out anything suspicious?

Bess gave a very tiny shake of her head and widened her eyes.
No, she seems totally normal. I don't know what to do.

I cleared my throat. “Listen, Lori,” I said, “something actually happened at Black Creek Farm yesterday that has Sam kind of rattled.”

“Really?” Lori looked surprised. “More than just Julie being sick?”

“Yeah.” I let out a breath. “The thing is, someone vandalized the greenhouse yesterday. Probably sometime after you left. Which was?”

Lori blinked at me, surprised. “Ah . . . about noon, maybe? Wait, what do you mean,
vandalized
?”

“Someone went in there and knocked over all the plants,” Bess explained. “Really tore them up, left a huge mess of broken pots and dirt all over the floor. And he or she left a
message
,” she added, raising her eyebrows.

“Message?” Lori looked totally confused. “What kind of message? ‘I hate plants'?”

“No,”
I told her. “Someone wrote out ‘Kill the farm!' with dirt.”

Lori lifted her lip in a sneer.
“Kill the farm?”
she asked. “Seriously?”

I nodded. “Seriously.”

Lori let a breath out through her mouth. “I don't even know what to say,” she said. Then her eyes darkened. She frowned, looking up at us. “Wait—do you guys think
I
did it?” she asked. “Is that why you came over here?”

I sighed. “Honestly? Yes, it's why we came over here. But I don't really think you did it anymore, after talking to you.”

Lori pinched her mouth to the side, thinking that over. “Good,” she said after a few seconds, “because I would
never
do something like that to Sam. Gosh, especially now . . .”

Especially now?
I guessed she must mean so soon after the disaster of the buffet dinner. I remembered what Sam had said at the time, that Black Creek Farm needed more CSA members and higher sales. This must
be a super-stressful time for the whole Heyworth family.

“Do you know who would?” I asked. It had been a minute or so since Lori last spoke, and she looked at me blankly, clearly not sure what I meant.

“Who would what?”

“Who would do something like that to Sam,” I clarified. “You know, wrecking his greenhouse. Who would hate an organic farm enough to write ‘Kill the farm!' in dirt on the floor?”

Lori shook her head. She was looking off into the distance, thinking hard. She wrinkled her nose slightly, like she could just sniff out who might be that crazy, and didn't like it at all. Then her gaze returned to me, and her expression was blank again.

“I'm really not sure,” she said.

She's hiding something.
“But if you had to guess?” I prompted.

Lori glanced at her shoes and sighed deeply. Then she looked up at me, meeting my eyes with her serious brown ones. “I don't really know anyone who I think would do this,” she said, “
but
 . . .”

“
But?”

Lori crossed her arms uncomfortably. “But there's been some weird tension with Jack, ever since he arrived,” she said finally.

I glanced at Bess.

“Yeah, we've noticed,” Bess said in a confidential tone. “He seemed kind of upset this morning. Sam had tried to serve some vegetables from the farm at breakfast, I guess.”

Lori nodded. “Yeah, that's not surprising. I saw him yesterday, and he was
really
upset about what happened to Julie. He kept talking about the farm like it was a joke, and the produce was poison or something.”

“Well, to Julie it was,” I pointed out. Not that I condoned Jack's mean behavior—but I could understand his worry about his wife.

“It's not just that,” Lori said, shaking her head. “He's always talking about what a bad investment the farm was. He seems really mad that it's losing money.”

Hmmmm.
“Why would he care?” I asked. “It's Sam's money to lose, right?”

Lori looked really uncomfortable. She glanced down at her hands and brought a finger to her mouth to nibble on the nail. “Well,” she said, “with Sam being sick, you know . . .”

What?

“Wait,” I said, holding up my hand. “What do you mean, Sam being sick?”

Lori dropped her hand and looked at me, surprised. “Sam has cancer,” she said matter-of-factly. “In his throat, I think. He starts chemo in July. Which has made him even more determined to make the farm work
now
, this year, in case . . .”

Her voice faded out.

Everyone was quiet for a minute as I tried to absorb this information. Sam . . . was
sick
? It made a horrible sort of sense, but it still stunned me.

And Jack's worried about his inheritance,
I realized with a shock.
That's what Lori thinks.

My stomach flipped over. Suddenly the argument in
the kitchen this morning seemed much nastier than I'd first assumed.

“Wow,” Bess whispered finally, and I looked at her and nodded.

“Wow,” I echoed. “Well, one thing's for sure. This case is even more important now. Whoever's sabotaging Black Creek Farm had better watch out . . . because I don't care what it takes. I'm going to find them!”

“DO YOU STILL WANT TO
go home?” I asked Bess as we walked back up the road toward Black Creek Farm. “I'm going to be here for a while, I think. Maybe it was silly of me to try to get you to come with me to talk to Lori. I could drive you home and come back. . . .”

Bess put her hand on my arm, stopping me. “Don't be silly, Nancy,” she said. “Of course I'm going to stay. I'm
invested
now.”

She smiled at me, and I smiled back. “I really want to solve this,” I said softly, knowing that I didn't really need to say it.

“
We will,” Bess said, looking like she didn't doubt it for a minute. “Of course we will, Nancy. When's the last time Nancy Drew didn't solve her case?”

I nodded but let out a little sigh. It was true, I had a good track record. But it wasn't like I never screwed up.
And I can't afford to screw up this one,
I thought.

The Heyworths' house was quiet when we got back. I knocked gently on the front door, and Abby answered, holding her finger in front of her mouth in the universal
be quiet
gesture. “Sam's napping,” she said quietly. “Or as he puts it, ‘lying down.' He'd never admit that he needs a nap in the afternoon these days.”

I glanced at Bess.
Because he's sick,
I wanted to say. But now seemed like the wrong time to bring it up. Bess nodded almost imperceptibly.

“Oh, you girls must be starving!” Abby said suddenly. “I just realized the time. Won't you come into the kitchen with me? I can make you sandwiches.” She turned and headed toward the kitchen, then paused and said over her shoulder, “All store-bought ingredients, I promise.”

Bess and I chuckled awkwardly.

“I actually wish we could eat some of the produce from the farm,” I said as we filed into the kitchen and took seats at the old farmhouse table. “It all looks delicious.”

“It is,” a new voice said, and we turned to see Julie entering from the same door we'd just come in, holding a paperback. “Sorry to startle you! I was just reading on the porch and heard voices. I thought I'd come in and see if I might get a cup of tea.”

Abby turned to her with a warm smile. “Julie, you know you don't have to ask,” she said. “If I can't get my daughter-in-law and the future mother of my grandchild a cup of tea, then I'm not good for much, am I?”

Julie smiled and walked over, giving Abby a quick hug. “Thanks, Mom,” she said.

Julie came over to the table and settled down in a chair at the end. “How are you girls?” she asked, brushing her long hair behind her ear and placing her book down on the table. “Did Sam take you to see the greenhouse?”

“He did,” I said with a nod. “It's—terrible.”

Julie snorted. “I can't imagine what would inspire someone to do that,” she said. “An
organic farm
? This whole thing is just so weird.”

“Very weird,” Bess said with a nod. “And . . .”

She came to a sudden, awkward stop. I met her eye and could tell that she'd been about to say something along the lines of,
And with Sam sick . . .

I cleared my throat, looking from Julie to Abby. “Um, listen . . . I don't know whether we're supposed to know this or not. . . .”

I trailed off, and Abby turned around from the counter where she'd been making cold-cut sandwiches. Julie looked at me curiously.

I took a deep breath. “. . . but Lori mentioned that Sam has cancer,” I finished.

Abby's eyes dimmed. Julie looked down at her hands.

“It's true,” Abby said quietly. “I'm sorry—we weren't trying to keep it from you. Sam doesn't like to tell anyone he doesn't have to.” She paused, then snorted. “He doesn't want anyone to treat him with pity, he says.
He wants to be treated like he's totally capable until he . . . isn't, anymore.”

Bess and I exchanged sad glances. “We're very sorry to hear it,” said Bess.

“It was a big blow to the family,” Julie said, nervously twirling her hair around her finger. “Coming right after Sam opened his dream farm, and with the first grandchild on the way . . .”

“It's
dreadful
timing,” Abby said with a rueful laugh, leaning over to place plates holding turkey-and-swiss sandwiches in front of me and Bess. “But from what I gather, cancer is known for its terrible timing.”

I nodded slowly. “I—will he—”
Will he be okay?
was what I wanted to ask. But I realized halfway through the question that it was insensitive. What if the answer was no?

Abby looked at me with understanding. “He starts chemo in July,” she said gently. “It has a good chance of shrinking or eradicating the cancer. But of course, no one can say for sure.”

I picked up my sandwich and took a tiny nibble. I wasn't
feeling terribly hungry, actually. I glanced at Bess and saw that she was taking the same small, polite bites that I was.
Funny how bad news can destroy your appetite.