Mom followed her. “Maybe something came up,” she said. “You’re too lovely a girl for anyone to cancel without good reason.”
“But his excuse was superlame,” Ashlee said with a detectable whine in her voice. “He tried to tell me about an old lady out there making up lies about how he tried to kill her because she thinks he wants to make this big power grab to take over the commune. Does he honestly think I’d believe a story like that? I thought he was supposed to be smart.”
“Surprisingly enough, he’s telling the truth,” I said, stowing the container of milk in the refrigerator. “Millie, the lady he’s talking about, is trying to force him out before he can restructure the commune.”
Ashlee screwed up her mouth. “And she’s telling people he tried to kill her? That’s dumb.”
“He just may have,” I said.
Mom put a hand to her chest. “Is Millie all right?”
“She’s fine. She just had a good scare.” I folded up the reusable grocery bags and put them away. “But, Ashlee, you should still drop Ryan.”
“I agree,” Mom said. “This boy sounds dangerous.”
“There’s a possibility he killed Birch, too,” I said.
Mom gasped, but Ashlee said, “Bull pucky.” She shoveled a large spoonful of ice cream into her mouth and talked around it. “The guy’s a nerd, not an assassin. I’m an awesome judge of character.”
I turned away so I wouldn’t laugh in Ashlee’s face as I thought about the guys she’d dated. But I had to admit that I was starting to doubt Millie’s story.
What better way to smear an opponent’s reputation than make up a tale about almost being killed? She might have been worried that not everyone would care about Ryan’s lies, and she’d added the alleged shooting as a little insurance.
The only problem was that Millie seemed so honest. Would she make up such a crazy lie?
Mom said, “Ashlee, I’d feel much better if you moved on to another young man. Try to find someone more dependable, like Jason.” She turned to me. “It’s too bad he doesn’t have a brother.”
Ashlee pulled her phone out of her waistband. “I don’t need Dana’s help finding a guy. I’m already working on it. I met this totally hot guy when Brittany and I were clothes shopping the other day. I’m texting him right now.” She headed to her room.
I shook my head at her retreating back. “Would you like to stay for dinner, Mom? I think I still have a frozen meal of meat loaf and mashed potatoes I could zap in the microwave for you.”
“Is that the type of food you eat?”
“Not all the time. We also have hot dogs and Top Ramen.”
She tried to hide her disapproval. “Tell you what. How about you go get Ashlee and we all go out to eat? My treat. I’ll sleep better knowing you had at least one decent meal.”
A hot meal that didn’t involve a microwave or seasoning packets? She wouldn’t get any argument from me.
* * *
The next morning, I entered the farm’s kitchen. Zennia and Millie were already there and frantically trying to finish breakfast prep.
Seeing Zennia’s flustered face, I asked, “What’s going on?”
She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “I’m afraid we got here late this morning. Now we’re playing catch-up.”
“I told you to leave me at your house. Fear shall not dictate my life,” Millie grumbled as she cracked an egg into a bowl.
“Humor me,” Zennia said. “I feel better knowing you’re not alone.”
I spotted a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice on the counter. “I’ll take out the juice and a pitcher of water, too.” On my way to the cupboard for the second pitcher, I paused. “I heard another commune meeting is scheduled for today. Sorry your plan didn’t work.”
“He’s slicker than I gave him credit for, but I’ll get rid of him yet.”
“Jason mentioned you were talking to Frank after the meeting yesterday. Did he have any ideas that could help?”
A dark cloud passed over Millie’s face. “We didn’t get a chance to discuss the meeting. Frank was too busy apologizing for misplacing the electric bill. He forgot to pay it for the third month in a row. The company is threatening to shut off the lights.” She hit the rim of the bowl too hard with an egg. Bits of shell broke off and fell in. “People aren’t going to listen to Frank if he continues to be this unreliable.”
I pulled down the water pitcher and started dumping in ice. “I know Frank’s lived there a long time, but do you think someone else should take over the books?”
Millie plucked pieces of shell out of the bowl. “Eventually. Birch and I had discussed that idea before he was killed, but I’m afraid I’ve put it on the back burner with these other problems.”
“Well, maybe this loan you lined up will take the stress off of Frank until everything settles down and you can find a replacement.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice? The last thing we need is for Ryan to insist on taking over the finances, too. Then he’ll have even more power.”
I filled the pitcher with water and carried it and the pitcher of orange juice out of the kitchen. In the hall, I almost bumped into Connie, Olive’s friend.
I stepped to the side so she could enter the dining room. “Welcome back,” I said as she walked past.
She stopped inside the door and smiled, showing yellowed smoker’s teeth. “I know I said I’d never come back after you let my friend fall down like that, but dang, did that massage feel good. Figured I’d use one of the coupons that uptight guy in the suit gave me.”
Gordon would be thrilled. Connie’s return was further proof that he was the king of customer service. “And Olive? Will she be joining you?”
“I asked her, what with it being her day off, too, but she refused. I think she was embarrassed.”
“Anyone could trip,” I said as I led Connie to a table by the French doors. I poured her a glass of water and set both pitchers on the table. “She shouldn’t feel embarrassed.”
Connie sat down and plunked her purse on the floor. “She doesn’t care about that. It’s her job she doesn’t want to talk about.”
A diner at another table signaled to me, and I held up one finger to let him know I’d be there in a minute. “Has something happened?”
“I’ll say. Turns out she got her layoff notice a full week ago. She and about half the staff are out at the end of the month.” She scratched a mole on the side of her neck. “I don’t know why she didn’t tell us when we were all talking, but I think she’s ashamed that she’ll be out of work in a couple more weeks. Who knows with her? She always was the sensitive type.” She smacked her lips. “I sure am hungry.”
“I’ll go see if breakfast is ready.” Before I left the room, I set the pitchers on the sideboard and stopped to see what the other diner needed, only half paying attention as he requested no added salt in his meal.
The layoff notice must have been what Olive tried telling me the other night at the casino, but I wasn’t surprised she changed her mind. When I’d been laid off from my marketing job before moving back home, I’d needed a week to accept the news myself and another week to tell anyone else. Olive probably felt the same way.
I carried the first two breakfast plates out to the diners. When I got around to Connie’s table, I set the plate before her and asked, “What are Olive’s plans now? More waitressing?”
“That’s pretty much her only skill. Life’s been awful rough for her since Tony died.” She picked up her fork. “When he got killed, Olive was left with hardly any savings. She stretched it out as long as she could, but there wasn’t much to start with. That job at the casino was about the only one she could get, and that pay’s so low, she can barely afford to rub two nickels together.”
I dropped into the chair across from Connie. She gave me a funny look but didn’t say anything.
“And pretty soon she won’t even have that job,” I said.
“Talk about the worst timing eve
r,” Connie said.
“Timing?”
“One night she finds out she’s going to be out of a job, and the next morning her brother gets whacked.” Connie gulped down a drink of water. “Olive always said the day Tony died was the day that ruined her life, but the day her brother died must have been pretty low, too.”
I stared at Connie, not sure I’d heard her correctly. “Birch was killed the day after Olive found out she was being laid off?”
At Connie’s nod, I could only shake my head.
First her husband was killed in an accident caused by Birch, and now she was about to be fired from the only job that was keeping her afloat. Maybe getting fired from the casino was the last straw for Olive.
And that’s when she’d snapped.
Chapter 30
With Zennia and Millie taking care of the clean-up from breakfast, I grabbed an apple for Wilbur and headed outside. I needed to organize my thoughts, and talking to that pig sometimes helped.
On my way to the sty, I inhaled the early morning June air and savored the warmth of the sun on my head and shoulders. The minute Wilbur saw me, he ambled over and stuck his nose between the fence rails. I petted his rough, bristly head and dropped the apple into the pen for him to snack on.
While he chomped on the fruit, I leaned over the railing. “You don’t know any of these people, Wilbur, but I need a good ear right now.”
Wilbur snorted in response, which I took as agreement.
“You see, this old boyfriend of Zennia’s was murdered, and I just learned his sister received her layoff notice only hours before the guy was killed. That wouldn’t be such a big deal except Birch— that’s the dead guy—killed Olive’s husband in a car accident a few years ago, and this job is the only one she could get. Money was already tight for her, and I have to wonder if the layoff pushed her over the edge.”
Wilbur nosed the remaining bits of apple, showing no interest in the conversation.
“Your lack of response tells me you don’t think Olive’s the killer. Am I right?”
Wilbur snorted.
“Okay, how about Frank and Millie? Frank’s been messing up the books lately, and Birch wasn’t happy about that. Plus, both Millie and Frank are dead set against the big changes Ryan wants at the commune, while Birch seemed to like Ryan’s ideas. I’m not sure why one of them wouldn’t kill Ryan instead of Birch, but maybe they figured Birch had more influence over the rest of the commune. Millie’s starting to realize that Ryan has plenty of influence of his own, but she might not have known that at the time.”
Wilbur snorted again, most likely because the apple was gone. Still, I said, “Who’s Ryan, you ask? He’s a new guy at the commune who’s been telling everyone they should use the Internet to sell their goods. But I now know he really wants to turn the property into a techie retreat and charge sky-high prices to let people stay there. Maybe Birch found out, and Ryan killed him in hopes of keeping his plans quiet until he knew the residents would go along with him.” I drummed my fingers on the fence rail. “And if Millie’s telling the truth, though I’m not sure she is, Ryan did try to kill her after she figured out this retreat idea.”
Wilbur gave me one last look before wandering over to his buddies and lying down in the dirt. I returned to the house, more certain than ever that Ryan was the most likely person to kill Birch. Thank God Ashlee didn’t want to date him anymore.
When I got to the kitchen, I found Millie and Zennia at the kitchen table, flipping through a cookbook.
“I cannot believe the amount of butter these recipes call for,” Zennia said. “Poaching the fish in a leek broth is definitely our best option for lunch.” She closed the book just as Esther and Gordon walked in from the hall.
“The jars are practically flying off the shelves,” Gordon said to Esther.
She settled onto one of the kitchen chairs and nodded at the rest of us in greeting. “People love homemade goods. I know I sure do.”
“But if I’d known, I would have asked for a bigger cut of the profits,” Gordon said.
I sat down in the other empty chair. “Are you guys talking about the jams and honey from the commune?”
At the mention of the commune, Millie sat a little straighter, her eyes on Gordon.
“We’ve almost gone through the entire delivery,” Gordon said. “I need to call Ryan and have him send us more. Unless . . .” Gordon got that calculating expression on his face, the one that told me he was thinking up ways to make money. “Do you know anything about jams and jellies?” he asked me.
I licked my lips. “I know I like to eat them, but that’s it.”
“I put up preserves every year,” Esther said.
“I often serve them to the guests with our scones or toast,” Zennia added.
Gordon’s eyes gleamed. “We could sell our own jars of preserves in the lobby. We’d make a fortune.”
Esther immediately pooh-poohed the idea. “I don’t make near enough. As it is, we usually run out halfway through the winter. If we started selling the jars, we’d be out in a month.”
“You could make more,” Gordon said. “Dana and Zennia could help you.”
I tried not to show my concern. “Or we could keep letting the commune supply the jams. That method is a lot simpler, plus the commune could use the business.”
“From your lips to my creator’s ears,” Millie said.
“Why worry about the commune when you have the farm to consider?” Gordon asked in typical Gordon fashion.
I glanced at Millie, but she didn’t seem offended. Esther laid her hand on Gordon’s arm. “I’m afraid we simply don’t have enough blackberries and strawberries on the property.”
Gordon glowered at all of us, as if we were to blame for not having the foresight to plant more berries. “Fine. We’ll stick with the current plan.”
“I don’t know if you’re aware of this,” Millie said, “but we offer other items besides jams and honeys. We also have fudge and lemon curd, not to mention quilts and blankets.”
“I’ve tried the lemon curd,” Gordon said, “but not the fudge. It might be a good seller here.”
“If you’re going to the fair tonight, you can try a sample,” Millie said. “The commune is running a booth.”
“Jason and I are already going,” I said. “We’ll have to stop by and say hi.”
Gordon adjusted the knot in his tie. “Dana, why don’t you sample the fudge on behalf of the farm while you’re there? I have no fondness for those ridiculous rides and silly displays.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing,” I told him. He headed for the lobby, and I turned to Millie. “You’re not helping with the booth tonight, are you?”
“Of course I am. I do my share to help the commune.”
“But aren’t you worried about Ryan?” I asked. “He may come after you again.”
Millie pushed herself up from her seat and leaned on the table, her eyes ablaze. “I’d like to see him try.”
* * *
As soon as I got home from work that evening, I went straight into the bathroom to take a shower and get ready for my date. I waffled between a light summer dress and skinny jeans with a long-sleeved maroon top, settling on the jeans since the evenings still ran cool. Besides, I’d hate to have a wardrobe malfunction if I wore a dress on those carnival rides.
When I emerged from my room, Ashlee was coming in the front door, dressed in her vet smock from work. She eyed my outfit.
“Going out?”
“I’m off to the fair. Jason’s picking me up in a bit.”
“You know, it’s pretty cool that you never have to wonder where you’re going to find a date. You always have Jason.”
I took a step back in mock surprise. “Don’t tell me you’ve found a benefit to staying in a committed relationship.”
“Sometimes it’s nice to know you’ve got a guy you can count on.” For a second, she sounded wistful. Then she laughed. “At least until the next guy comes al
ong. And I plan to find me one of those tonight.” She looked down at her smock. “But first I need to get out of these grungy clothes.”
She disappeared into her room while I hastily straightened the living room and tidied up the kitchen. By the time I touched up my makeup, Jason was ringing the doorbell. He gave me a swoon-worthy kiss the moment I opened the door.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said when we broke apart.
I inhaled the spicy scent of his cologne and grinned. “Hey, yourself. Ready to go?”
Before we could step outside, Ashlee came out of her room. She’d changed into a short red dress with matching heels. Her hair held such volume that she could have been on her way to audition for a shampoo commercial.
“Wow,” I said. “You’ll definitely catch a guy tonight.”
“That’s the plan.” She pulled her lip gloss out of a purse that looked too small to carry much else. “Have fun at the fair. Don’t throw up from all that funnel cake.”
I paused with my hand on the doorknob. “Do you want to come with us? The more the merrier.”
“No way. Those rides are death traps,” she said. “Besides, Brittany texted a minute ago and swears the new guy at the bowling alley is perfect for me. I’m going to check him out.”
“Just think, this could be the guy you end up spending the rest of your life with,” I said.
Ashlee snorted. “Please. That never happens anymore. Sticking with one guy is so old-school.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Jason said, giving my waist a squeeze.
“Me neither.” I gave him a peck on the cheek, which prompted Ashlee to make a face. I grabbed my keys. “Have fun tonight,” I told her.
“Try not to get killed when the Ferris wheel falls off the track,” she called back.
I rolled my eyes. My sister said the most ridiculous things sometimes.
Still, maybe I’d skip the Ferris wheel. I was looking for a fun night, not a fatal one.
Chapter 31
We walked down to where Jason had parked his car in a visitor’s space. The sun was starting to slide behind the hills, and the air was bathed in a warm, golden light. I knew darkness would fall soon enough, and that was fine by me. I loved the bright lights of the carnival rides as they twirled through the night.
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