Fruit of All Evil (10 page)

“I'm sorry about the wedding, but I understand. I'm perplexed that Drew is still leaving, but I suspect that's only because he hasn't processed everything totally. Give him a day or two, and he might rethink that—but considering what he does, I don't know if he'll be given the option. And why do you believe that Linda and Drew were together?”

“The way she blushed,” I said.

“Oh. Well, that is pretty fail safe.” Ian smiled. “I guess I'm glad they got to spend a fun afternoon together before everything hit the fan.”

“It was way better than fun,” I said.

“She really, really blushed?”

“Yep.”

“Good.”

We were both silent a moment. I drummed my fingers on my leg and then finally spoke. “I was going to pick up Hobbit and head home. But my inventory for my short day tomorrow is ready to go. Maybe we could just stay with you tonight and I'll go get the inventory early.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Ian said.

We gathered Hobbit from in front of George's fireplace and made a hasty path to Ian's apartment above his studio.

Hobbit had become accustomed to our ways, so after her momentary happy greeting, she managed to ignore us as we forgot about the recent strain in our relationship and the gruesome murder, and worked on turning our own blush factor up to high. We were successful.

We were awake a good hour before the sun rose. Ian had a piece of art to install, so he went in one direction, and after Hobbit and I made sure George had plenty of coffee and eggs, we headed to my farm.

The temperature was perfect again, and I rolled down my window. It wasn't going to be too hot or too cool today. Winters weren't all that terrible in South Carolina, but the warming spring temperatures would bring a big crowd to Bailey's today. By the time we got home, the sun was almost up, and despite all the horribleness of the night before, I felt a big dose of spring fever coming on.

I'd already started my pumpkin seeds, and the plants were sprouting from small peat pots in my kitchen. My pumpkin preserves were becoming so popular that I'd started more pumpkin seeds than ever before. I was close to needing a greenhouse. If I started selling product at Maytabee's, I'd have to invest in one very soon.

I was eager to dig in the dirt, plant the pumpkin sprouts, and watch them grow. And my strawberry plants were in terrific shape. The berries would be ready to pick very soon, and if looks were any indication, I was going to have another delicious crop.

I loaded up my inventory for the short day I'd planned and then took Hobbit for a quick run. When we were done, and as she and I surveyed my land from beside the barn, my fingers tingled with anticipation. Hobbit felt it, too, as she lifted her nose into the air and took a couple of good whiffs. We spent lots of time outside during the growing season, and it was difficult to say which one of us enjoyed it more.

“I know, girl, pretty soon now,” I said as I scratched that perfect spot behind her left ear.

She smiled.

The sound of tires on gravel got our attention, and Hobbit put one of her long paws on my foot, both to inform me that we had a visitor and to assure me that she'd let me know if he or she was okay.

The tires were attached to Drew's Honda, but he wasn't the driver. Instead, the blond, less awesome version of him—his cousin Alan—steered the car down the driveway's slope toward me and Hobbit.

Why was he at my house at this early hour? How did he know where I lived? Was Linda okay?

“It's all right, girl. I know him. Sort of,” I said. Hobbit hesitantly pulled her paw off my foot. The tone of my voice wasn't as confident as either she or I would have liked.

Alan parked the Honda and got out. He was dressed in jeans and a golf shirt and flip-flops that snapped at his heels as he made his way toward me.

“Becca, hello. Alan Cummings. Drew's cousin,” he said, extending his hand.

“Hi, Alan. I remember. Hey, I'm sorry about your aunt. You okay? And what's up? Where're Drew and Linda?” I fired the questions quickly and then cleared my throat.

“Thank you. Yes, everyone's fine. Sorry I'm here so early. Linda said I should get here before you took off for Bailey's.” He was close to me, too close. I didn't like him in my personal space, and I tried to step back nonchalantly. He stepped with me.

“What's up?” I repeated.

“Linda has a horrible migraine, so she's not going in to Bailey's today, but she has some orders that are scheduled to be picked up. She wondered if you'd take care of them for her.”

“Of course. Let me back my truck up to your car, and we can load them in the back. How many are there?” I tried to hide my relief. Linda hadn't been arrested and was okay, other than having a headache. I'd call her later to see how she was feeling, and to make sure she was really all right.

“Twelve.”

“Wow,” I said.

“Yes, wow. Apparently she had most of them baked before . . . well, before everything last night, but she stayed up practically all night finishing them.”

“Darn it! I wish I'd thought about that. I could have helped.”

Alan smiled. I knew he meant it to be a friendly smile, but it didn't sit right with me. Why did he turn on my inner alarm bells? “We all offered to help, but she insisted on doing everything herself.” His tone was almost spiteful.

“Did anyone get arrested last night?” I asked.

Alan's eyebrows rose. “No, I'm pretty sure the police think that one of the bank's customers, someone who was foreclosed on, is the killer. I think that's the angle they're exploring right now.”

I nodded, and studied Alan for some sign of . . . something. What was it? Was it that he looked so much like Drew but wasn't Drew? I couldn't put my finger on it.

“Again, I'm so sorry.”

“Thank you. I think I'm still in shock over the whole thing.”

“I understand. Hey, girl, go over there, please,” I said to Hobbit, who obeyed and went to sit on the porch. I got in my truck and adjusted the rearview mirror so that I could watch Alan as I backed toward the Honda.

He was looking toward my strawberry plants until I got close enough that he signaled me to stop.

“Becca, you have some beautiful land,” Alan said as I hopped out of the truck and pulled down the tailgate.

“Thanks.”

“Any thought of selling it?”

I laughed. “Not even one. I love it here, and I hope I never leave.”

“You never know who might offer you the right price,” he said, but his voice wasn't friendly.

“The right price doesn't exist,” I replied too firmly.

“Sure,” Alan said, shrugging.

He opened the Honda's trunk, and we were enveloped with delicious fruity scents.

“Yum. I hope I can manage to hold on to these until the customers come for them. I love Linda's pies,” I said as we transferred the boxes to the truck. Before long, the bed of the truck was loaded with Linda's pies and my jams.

“Thanks, Becca,” Alan said as he closed the Honda's trunk. “Oh, hey, I saw you in an unexpected place last night.”

I froze. Naturally, the moment that I felt most guilty about popped into my mind. Had he seen me on the ledge? He had his hands on his hips but was no longer in my personal space. Had he come to my house to confront me about my spying ways? Was he dangerous? Could I get in my truck and leave before he could do something to me? Would I leave Hobbit with someone dangerous? No.

“Oh, yeah?” I said.

“Yeah, you and Ian were turning onto . . . Harvard, I think that was the street. I'd just left the police station.”

“Yes!” I said too enthusiastically. “Yes, Ian lives on Harvard.”

“I thought it was you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You must have been in Ian's truck last night. I would have remembered yours. It's great. I love the color.”

“Thanks,” I said, still trying to hide my relief and my odd uncomfortable feelings about him.

He'd complimented my land and my truck. I still didn't trust him, but if he said something outstanding about Hobbit, I might actually have to try to like him—if he didn't give me the willies so much. Why did he set off my radar?

He walked to the driver's side door of Drew's Honda. “Hey, thanks for doing this for Linda. She said she'll call you when she can hold her head up and open her eyes.”

“Sure. No problem.”

“See you later, Becca.” Alan got in the car and drove away.

Hobbit was by my side the second the car was out of sight. She whined and put her paw back on my foot.

“Yeah, I know. I've got to get a grip, huh?” There was something about him that still bothered me. I tried to shrug it off as a feeling that was the result of meeting someone at a dinner party where a dead body was found. But there was
something
more, and Hobbit sensed it, too. She whined again.

“Come on,” I said, “I've got to get to work.” There was no more time to waste. I made sure Hobbit was taken care of for the morning and took off for Bailey's.

As I drove down the state highway, I wished that there was someone in Drew's family I could talk to,
really
talk to. My relationship with him had been built around two new couples: Drew and Linda, and Ian and me. We'd been getting to know each other, but we were still so newly coupled that we wanted to spend more time as separate couples instead of as one of two couples.

I wanted to better understand Drew and his family dynamics. Had Madeline really had a soft side, as Linda had mentioned? What had Linda meant about Drew and Madeline not having much of a relationship? What did Drew's cousins really think about their aunt? Our dinner had been so brief.

Alan, Shawn, and Mid might be strange, but there could be numerous reasons behind their strangeness. If Allison, the human nature specialist, had taught me anything, it was that you never know what happened in a person's life the second before they came in contact with you. Until you understood what they'd been through, you could never truly understand why they did the things they did in the present.

I thought Sally was the strangest one of the bunch—too emotional and melancholy. None of the rest of her family made much of her behavior, though. I didn't notice anyone roll their eyes or sigh impatiently when she teared up. I also didn't see anyone shocked by her behavior. Was she always like that, or was last night unique? Was she emotional and melancholy because she'd just killed her aunt?

Because of the strange dynamics among the family members the night before, I wasn't ready to think the killer had been a bank customer. I hoped that would be the case, but at this point any information could be helpful.

I could approach any of them under the pretext of curiosity or friendly conversation, but I decided I'd try to talk to Sally first. At the moment, it was her behavior that made me the most curious.

I filed a plan to call her later as I pulled into the U-shaped loading/unloading area of Bailey's and followed tire ruts to the back of my stall. As I parked, I noticed that the market was already getting customers. The beautiful weather and the spreading spring fever would definitely draw a big crowd.

“Can I help you with that?” Allison appeared beside my truck.

“Hey, Sis. Sure, but don't you have something more important and managerial to do?”

“I'm being managerial. Drew called to let me know you were helping Linda. I said I'd come help you.”

“I'll take the help.”

“I thought maybe I'd hear from you last night.” Allison lifted two pies out of the truck. “I talked to Ian this morning. You were at a dinner where someone—Madeline Forsyth!—was found brutally murdered, and you didn't think to fill in your own sister.”

“Huh,” I said as I stood holding a stack of pies. “It hadn't occurred to me. To call you, that is. So much has happened, and I've been trying hard to pay attention to everything. Sorry about that.”

Allison smiled. “Well, first of all, are you okay?”

“Yeah. Seeing Madeline Forsyth's body wasn't the best moment of my life, but I think I'm more worried about Linda than anything else.”

“Me, too, but she'll be fine. They'll need some time.”

“The wedding's postponed.”

“I figured as much.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” I said.

“True. So, do you want to fill me in on the details now or later?”

I gave her the condensed version, leaving out my escapade on the ledge. I also didn't tell her about taking Madeline's cell phone. If I'd told her about that, she'd get all big-sisterly on me. Her few extra minutes of life had been used against me often enough that I knew better.

“You don't think Linda or Drew . . .?” she asked when I finished.

“I really don't know for sure but I don't think so. Maybe Sam will give me some more insight, if I push him.”

“Sam's a bit too giving of his information with you, but I suppose that's what happens when . . .”

“When what?”

“Never mind. I've got to get to work.”

“Thanks for the help.”

“You're welcome,” she said as she walked away, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket.

“Hi, Becca,” a voice said from the front of my stall. I looked up and saw two of my favorite people, whom I liked for more than their phenomenal baking skills. They were holding their own personal versions of heaven, and I was forced to transform back into Linda's Number One, even though the job had been all but eliminated.