by Ritter Ames
The deck looked close to half-done, but some of the trim work would have to be added last and made things probably stand closer to one-third finished.
“This is looking good, sailor. But you need to put a shirt on before my husband gets home,” she teased. “He’ll get suspicious otherwise.”
Keith’s grin stretched wide, but she could tell by the way he moved he was tired. Though he’d retired from playing goalie in the NHL after the surgery on his knee, and for all intents and purposes he was probably ninety-percent recovered, he still limped when he overdid things in a short timeframe. He grabbed the t-shirt hanging on one of the posts and wiped sweat from his face. His kiss was still a little salty though.
“You look like you’ve had a good day,” he said, holding Kate’s hand as she stepped over the outside frame and into the middle region. “Things get settled down?”
“Yes, despite all the setbacks after last night, I think we’re on track to make everyone happy.” She tapped the cedar frame with her knuckles. “Knock wood.”
“After yesterday, I think anything is an improvement.”
“You have that right.” Kate looked at her watch and tried to give Keith a graceful way of stopping work when it meant he wouldn’t make the DIY goal he’d spoken about so brashly yesterday. “Meg’s firing up their grill now, and I’m going to take our food over. Why don’t you run up and shower so you’ll be able to eat with us before heading to your radio show? I spoke to the girls and Suze told me about the staining discussion. Maybe if you can lengthen this job out a bit longer than you planned I can join in for a staining session on Friday.”
Keith pulled open the door and stepped back so she could enter first. He said, “I hadn’t thought about that. You think you’ll be finished by Friday?”
“Yeah, I really think so. They’re doing all the painting now at the new site we’ve chosen. Meg and I have Mr. Jolly working on finding us a desk to use and the farm has some great rustic items we’re repurposing for the shoot. We might have to go in for a couple of hours Friday morning, just to double check everything is ready for the photographer on Monday, but it won’t be more than that. I can definitely help stain Friday afternoon if you don’t mind waiting for me.”
“Of course we’ll wait on you,” Keith said, pulling the t-shirt over his head and washing his hands in the kitchen sink. “Be great to do a family project like that. I’ll just kick back a little tomorrow so I can finish up Thursday instead.”
Kate smiled. “Great plan.”
He stepped into the utility room and returned with one hand carrying a pair of khakis on a hanger and his other holding something out for her to take. “I threw a load of clothes in today, so I’d have pants for tonight. There was room in the washer, and I added the pair you wore yesterday. I found these in one of the pockets. The torn fragment looked like trash, but I wanted to check before I threw it away.” He held out the silver pen and piece from the feed bag she’d found in the barn.
“Oh, right, I need to give this pen back to Liz.”
Keith disappeared out of the room, and she heard him run up the stairs, smiling at how men never really grew up. “But it’s great when they do your laundry because they need to do their own,” she said to herself.
She started to throw away the piece of trash but took a closer look when she saw blue ink and thought there was writing. On closer inspection, however, she realized the ink was just marks made when someone apparently used the point of a pen to punch a hole in the bag to start the tear. Turning the silver pen over in her hand, she tested the ink on the fragment and the blues matched. She wondered why Bren would have used that pen to open the bag. And why she left it behind.
Surely she knew where the tools were in the barn, Kate thought. But maybe Liz had moved things since Bren interned there.
“Oh, well.” She tossed it into her purse. “It’s a nice pen, even if it was used to attempt a crime. I’ll ask Liz if I should give it to the police, or if she can get it back to Bren’s family.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
GRILLING CLEAN UP
The best time to clean the grill is as soon as the final item is taken off. Crumple up aluminum foil—recycle by reusing what was used to steam root veggies like carrots. Then let the barbecue tongs do double duty, too, and hold the foil to save your hands as you run the silver ball over the grate to knock off stuck on food while it’s still warm. In just a few seconds all burnt-on pieces will be gone, and the grill won’t require a lot of elbow grease later.
WHILE KEITH SHOWERED, Kate pulled out the cutting board grabbed the bowl in the refrigerator loaded up with all the washed vegetables. She took a few minutes to section the peppers and onions into big chunks, ran the knife down the carrots to make long strips, and sliced summer squash and tomatoes into similarly sized spheres. Then she grabbed the aluminum foil and olive oil cooking spray and called out, “Girls, I’m going next door for a minute.”
“Okay, Mom,” they chorused.
She took the shortcut through the back gate and was surprised to see Gil at the grill getting everything ready. “Hello, stranger, we’ve missed seeing you lately.”
Meg’s husband was tall and lanky, and he offered a crooked grin at Kate’s words. “Yeah, I’ve been hearing that a lot. So when the editorial meeting broke up today, I finished up my story and cut out before anyone spotted me.”
“You do know you’re not an indentured servant.”
“Only to my wife,” Gil said, chuckling.
“Is she busy inside?” Kate asked.
“On the phone with her mother. Doctor’s appointment today and apparently they’re waiting on more tests,” he replied. “If those are the vegetables she was talking about, you can leave them on the table here. I’m going in and get the corn in a minute. She’s had it soaking. Oh, and the asparagus spears and potatoes. ”
“Terrific. I brought cooking oil in a can. I always cheat and use that instead of having to coat the veggies with a brush.” Kate waggled the can back and forth as she spoke. “And here’s some foil to put the carrots on a little earlier to steam since they’re denser than the rest of these vegetables. Probably good to use it to start the potatoes too.”
“Great.”
“Keith’s in the shower now, but I’ll send him over to help you,” she called, lifting the latch on the gate.
“Watch out for Rowdy!”
The dog almost made it through, but Kate caught his collar and pulled him back just in time. Gil jogged over to take control of the canine escape artist.
“That was a good catch, Kate,” he said, grinning. “Maybe you need a dog to go with your cat.”
“Bite your tongue, Gil Berman. If my girls ever hear you say something like that they’ll never let up from the begging.” She smiled and waved on the way back to her house.
When she walked in the door, she startled Sam, and her daughter dropped something on the floor. Something that looked suspiciously like a firecracker to Kate, before her daughter closed her hand around it.
“Samantha, what’s in your hand?”
Her tomboy twin held out two Black Cat firecrackers. Kate snatched them from her palm. “Where did you get these?”
“At camp. Justin gave them to me.”
“Did he give away any more?”
The nod Sam gave was so nearly invisible only a mother could detect it.
“How many other children got fireworks from him?”
“I got two because he said he likes me, but most everyone else got one. I don’t remember how many, maybe eight other kids.” Sam shrugged. “Mommy, one of the kids asked if it was alright for us to have them, and he said they weren’t illegal.”
“So, someone did realize you shouldn’t have these.”
Again, the nod of her daughter’s head barely made a blip on the parenting Richter Scale. Kate sat in a kitchen chair and pulled Sam into her lap.
“Does Suzanne have any?”
“No. Justin calls Suzanne prissy.”
>
Kate bit her lip to keep from smiling. After a second she said, “These are legal fireworks for adults, honey. Not for someone your age, unless Daddy or I stay nearby and watch out for your safety.”
Sam buried her face in Kate’s shirt, and her voice was muffled when she said, “I wasn’t going to light them.”
“Whether you were or not...” She knew in her heart Sam was just saying the words to get out of trouble, but Kate decided to play along. “Justin should never have had these to give out in the first place. If someone ever gives you something dangerous like this again, you immediately take it to a teacher, a camp counselor, or your daddy or me. Understood?”
The small blonde head moved slightly, acknowledging the order.
Kate brushed the back of her daughter’s head with one hand. “It isn’t that we don’t want you to have a good time, Sam, but children—and even adults—lose their eyesight, hands, and even lose their lives each year by not handling firecrackers properly. You must take great care when you’re carrying or using them. What you don’t know can definitely hurt you.”
Keith walked into the room, and Kate opened her hand and revealed the contraband.
“What...?” He frowned.
Kate nodded down toward the daughter in her lap. Then said, “Okay, Sam, why don’t you run up to your room and read for a while. Your daddy and I need to talk.”
Sam raised her head. “Do I have to read?”
“Yes,” Kate replied, wishing Sam didn’t feel like a book was punishment. But for now, it was the best she could do.
Once Sam had raced upstairs and Kate heard the bedroom door close, she told Keith about the firecracker discovery and where they came from.
He moved to the phone. “I know Justin’s dad from school. Marty sells insurance and is a great guy. He always wants everyone to have a good time, but he would never give fireworks to Justin to take anywhere. I’ll call and talk to him. Ask if Justin remembers exactly which kids he gave fireworks to and try to head off any problems.”
“Sam said she remembered about eight, but he could have given away more when she wasn’t around him.”
“Okay, I’ll tell Marty.”
“Shouldn’t we tell the camp, too?”
“Yeah, I’ll do that when I drop off the girls in the morning. Everyone is gone for the evening since it’s only a day camp. For now, I’d like to try to find the fireworks and get the parents to take them away.”
“And when you’re finished, why don’t you go over to the Bermans and help Gil with the grilling,” Kate said.
“He’s home tonight? Wonder how he was able to sneak away from his editor?”
“I think he waited until no one was looking and slipped out,” she said, grinning. “Meg has him prepping the grill now, but she talked about getting him to mow the backyard earlier. He may never come home again.”
Dinner went well, and cleanup was fast since they used paper plates. After Keith headed to the radio station, the kids all went upstairs to play video games, and Gil went into his office to call a source, “But I promise, it won’t be long.”
“Okay, I’m timing you,” Meg teased, grinning.
When they were finally alone, sitting at the kitchen table with glasses of iced coffee, Kate said, “Gil seems to be putting a lot of effort into tonight.”
Meg sighed. “We’ve been talking. I know he doesn’t do any of it on purpose, and I like that he has a strong dedication to informing the public, but I told him sometimes he really needs to connect better with me and the boys. The look of guilt I saw cross his face when I said...” She covered her own face with her hands for a moment, before finishing, “I felt awful saying it, but more than a little vindicated at the same time.”
“Speaking of guilty, what do you think about what Stacy said today?” Kate asked, twirling her glass to make the ice dance.
“I’m glad Liz shut her down double quick. Can you imagine if she said that in front of the police?” Meg replied.
“Exactly. I’m glad Josh showed up at her house while the police were questioning her. He seems to have a good head on his shoulders.”
“It was awfully convenient though, wasn’t it?”
“What do you mean?” Kate asked.
“Him being there and piping up as they were asking her for an alibi,” Meg said. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying she killed Bren, but I can readily see she’d had her fill of the nasty little harpy and why. Josh is just the type of white knight personality who might think it’s okay to manufacture an alibi to keep a friend from getting into trouble.”
“She had no way of getting there without calling someone for a ride, remember. When her truck wasn’t getting tires at the garage, Josh was driving it back home for her because she had no means of getting there to pick it up.”
“There is that,” Meg acknowledged. “But I’m just worried Josh is sticking his neck out and may get his head chopped off if he is spinning an alibi to help Stacy.”
“And if she had been the murderer, I doubt she’d have left the bracelet behind,” Kate said. “I imagine she would have looked for it before leaving since it was one of the reasons she was angry with Bren. But I completely get your concerns about Josh taking the risk, and after what Liz said today about him always ready to protect a friend, it’s completely in character.”
“I wonder who the police have on their list right now,” Meg mused, turning her glass around on the tabletop as she thought. “Stacy, and probably Liz still.”
“And us.”
“You really think so?” Meg asked.
“Until they find a better suspect, I don’t doubt all of us are on the suspect list. They may let us leave, but not before talking to Lieutenant Johnson first.”
“Good point. And if Stacy is on the list, I’ll bet her brother Travis is too,” Meg said. “In fact, I’ll just bet anyone who helped round up the horses should be on the list. I can’t imagine young adults getting together in kind of a situation and not mouthing off about what they’d like to do to the person who caused the problem.”
“The list just gets longer and longer,” Kate said and sighed. “And I don’t really want anyone arrested for the crime. I’m not saying Bren doesn’t deserve justice, but...” She shrugged.
Meg nodded. “I know exactly what you mean. From the two encounters we had with her the woman was a homicide waiting to happen. She provoked everyone she spoke to.”
“And unfortunately, all the people we know she spoke to are either young people with their lives ahead of them, or Liz,” Kate said. “There’s never a good bad guy around to blame when you need one.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
PAINLESS SPRAY PAINT Cleanup
When using spray paint on small items like baskets and lamps, turn a cardboard box on one side and set the item inside. Now, all the paint that doesn’t hit the item is caught by the cardboard shell, which also gives the item a safe place to sit and dry.
THE NEXT MORNING, KATE and Meg loaded the small secondhand finds into the back of the van, along with their tote bags and a medium-sized neutral-toned woven rug from the McKenzie laundry room. “I still like the idea of a rug on the floor,” Kate said, “But since we’re using a much smaller space now the braided rug I was going to borrow from Jane is simply out of the question.”
“The colors in the rug will go with anything,” Meg said, shoving the roll aside to set their bags.
“I’m just afraid it might be too neutral with the white walls and all,” Kate replied. “Might have been nice for the floor to pop a little with color.”
Meg pulled a spray paint can from her tote. “I’ve got the ‘pop of color’ covered. We had leftover paint in cobalt blue and emerald green on the shelf in the garage. The boys used these to paint their soapbox derby cars. I don’t think there’s enough in either one to paint more than one thing, but they can each paint a basket or a box or something to add color to the space.”
“Oh, that reminds me.” Kate pulled a small
tin off a shelf in her garage and walked it back to the van. “Magnets. I put a couple of pieces of fabric in the tote in case Liz didn’t find anything for the wheelbarrow, and these magnets should hold everything in place.”
“Did you grab the bungee cords for the shovels?”
Kate nodded. “Yep, and a couple of outdoor extension cords so we can determine what we can get powered in the shed.”
“They might need a generator when the photographer comes,” Meg said. “Depending on what light configurations are used, they might need to pull more power than we can offer with extension cords.”
“Good point. I imagine anything where we have a lot of cords on the ground could be a fire hazard, too, when coupled with high wattage lights.” Kate closed the back cargo doors and walked around to the front. As she and Meg climbed into the front seats, she added, “I’ll talk to Liz about it today. I may email the publisher and suggest they talk to the photographer, so no one is surprised later. I imagine this won’t be the first time the photographer has to be aware of power limits.
They stopped for donuts and coffee at Hazelight Donuts, Hazelton’s answer to all things to get people started in the morning, and then moved on to Mr. Jolly’s place. When they arrived at the shop, he stood on the stoop and waved.
Inside, he directed them toward an off-wing room, with better than average lighting when compared to the rest of the store. There was also enough space to see and walk around each of the desks he’d brought out for approval.
“I only have the desks to show you today, ladies,” Mr. Jolly said. “All of my standalone shelving is large at the moment, but I’ll keep my eye out and let you know if I appropriate something smaller this week.”
“That’s fine,” Kate said. “We may not even need anything more, but I always try to see what options are available. Appreciate you looking for us.”
One white desk looked better for their purposes than the others. It was more like a table than just a desk, so Liz could use it later for either chore. “This will be terrific after someone slaps a fresh coat of paint on it,” Meg said, grinning as she stood back from the desk, hands on her hips.