Would he make Wes go home? Brynn didn’t want to consider it. She’d come to rely on Wes. Even though she was his teacher, there were things he’d helped her with that she’d still be struggling with if it weren’t for him.
But was she being selfish? If it was dangerous here for him, her little cheese business and micro-dairy farm didn’t matter. His life was more important than any of that.
“I imagine,” Brynn said, “I am, too. I don’t understand what’s going on.” Right now, she struggled to put a single thought together in her mind. “Schuyler. Help me out. What’s happening?”
“What do you mean?” She leaned forward and looked down into Brynn’s face.
“Why is everybody against Wes?”
“That’s not true,” she said with a soft tone in her voice, making Brynn suspicious. She may have been conked on her head, but she knew Schuyler didn’t do soft, unless it was with an animal.
Brynn crossed her arms. “If you’re not going to be honest with me, then who will be?”
Schuyler drew back and frowned. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m not against him. Nobody I know is against him. But the police . . . seem to be suspecting him. So, yes, people are leery of him. Plus there are some racist asses around. But you know all that.”
Brynn wished her brain would work quicker. She almost remembered something. “Something . . . I remember. . . thinking . . . there’s one common denominator.”
“You’re right about that,” Schuyler said. “It’s Chelsea.”
“Chelsea. Yes. We saw her on a date. I thought it was suspicious. Her dad is still in jail. She was dating the man who he ran over. Why would she be on a date?”
“She was also dating the man that Wes found in the barn, Donny?”
“Sounds like a lover spurned out there who may be behind all this.”
“And? You mean like setting Wes up? Man, you did take a blow to the head.” Schuyler grinned.
Perhaps she wasn’t making any sense. It sounded crazy, admittedly.
“Well, something’s wrong if the police are looking seriously at Wes. He just discovered a body. He didn’t kill anybody.”
Schuyler hesitated. “Brynn, try not to worry about any of this. Try to relax and concentrate on getting better. We’ve got the farm covered. Wes is being well taken care of. His dad will be here soon.” She paused. “Concussions can be serious, especially if you push yourself. So please try to relax.”
Brynn appreciated her friend’s concern, but she should have known better. Brynn wasn’t going to relax until she knew Wes was completely off the hook and was okay—concussion or not.
Chapter 19
Brynn wished for sleep. It seemed as if every time she fell asleep, some nurse or doctor was waking her up to take her vitals or give her medicine. No wonder people got sicker in hospitals.
She glanced at the clock on her bedside table. It was 8:00 AM. Funny, she had no sense of time. Where were her bag and cell phone? She needed to call her sister and parents. She gazed around the room and sat up, but she slammed back into her pillow, too dizzy to even sit up.
She beeped for the nurse. But as she lay back onto her pillow, she drifted off before the nurse came.
Later, a nurse entered the room and awakened her. “Good morning,” he said. “Time for medicine.”
She struggled to open her eyes. “Good morning,” she muttered. It hurt to talk. Her head felt like it had been hit by a cement block.
She sat up to take the medicine, hoping it would help. Just then, the aide came in with breakfast. A wave of nausea rolled through her as she placed the meal on her bedside tray, “Are you going to be able to eat this morning?” the nurse asked.
“I’m not sure.”
“Well, try. You don’t have to eat the whole thing.” His voice soothed and Brynn’s tension gave way just a bit.
“Okay,” she said.
“Is there anything I can get you?” he asked.
Brynn looked into his dark brown eyes. He was in the exact right job, she decided. Comfort oozed from him. “I don’t know if anybody brought my purse and I’d like it because it has my cell phone. I need to make a few calls.”
“Of course,” he said. “I think your purse is in this drawer.” He walked over, opened the drawer, and brought it to her. “Now, you know, you’re not supposed to have any screen time. As in none.”
“I want to make some calls. I’m not going to play games on my phone,” she said.
“Good,” he said. “Is there anything else?”
“No,” Brynn said as she dug through her bag to find her phone, pulled it out, and was relieved to find the battery hadn’t died. “Thank you.”
With that, the nurse with the soothing voice and calming eyes left the room.
She held her phone in her hand and wondered how she was going to make this call. What she would say to her sister, Becky, without prompting her to freak out.
She set the phone down on the table, next to her plate of scrambled eggs. She wondered how Wes was doing. Were there still guards at his door? Or was he safely home?
She took a bite of her egg. Her stomach didn’t like it. But then she took a bite of dry toast and it was exactly what she needed. She took another.
A rapping noise came from her door. Willow stepped through the doorway and into her room.
“Hey,” she said, cheerier than she should be.
“Hey, Willow,” Brynn said.
She eyed the food. “You’re eating. That’s great.”
Brynn held up the toast. “Toast,” she said. “Can’t quite do eggs yet.”
“How are you feeling?” She put a bunch of bags on the chair next to Brynn’s bed.
“My head hurts and I’m tired. They don’t let you sleep around here.”
Willow smiled. “So I hear. I’ve been to see Wes. He’s going to be sprung later today. He’s doing well. The gunshot wound is superficial.”
“Oh good,” Brynn said. “But will he be safe?”
“The police seemed to think so. They’ve already gotten the guy who shot him.”
“That’s a relief!” Brynn took another bite of toast. “Did he say why he shot him? It doesn’t make sense.”
“He’s a druggy. Nothing he does makes sense. He had in his warped mind that Wes was seeing Chelsea and killed Donny so he could have her to himself. But he also thought Wes had been sent here by Al-Qaeda, that he’s a spy for them. He’s been spreading that rumor around, evidently.”
“Oh dear.”
“I don’t know one person who knows him who thinks any of that’s plausible,” Willow said, and grinned. “That’s the good news.”
Brynn swallowed her toast. “What’s the bad news?”
Willow took a breath and sighed. “Wes’s father is here, and he’s not happy. He wants to take Wes home with him. It’s adding stress to an already stressful situation, unfortunately.”
Brynn thought about Nathaniel Scors, Wes’s father, and knew he was a good person and parent. He was a great son to Brynn’s friend Nancy. What would she do if her son appeared to be in danger? “I can’t blame him for wanting to take him home.”
“I know, right? But Wes can’t leave until the investigation is over, and his dad is furious. Plus, Wes doesn’t want to leave.”
That made Brynn happy. She didn’t want him to leave, either. But she certainly didn’t want to put him in danger.
Brynn needed to find out who was behind all of this. It would get Wes off the hook for everything, rebuilding his reputation.
“I’m certain all of this has something to do with Chelsea,” Brynn said. “My brain isn’t working as quickly as it should, but I think that’s right. This all has something to do with her.”
Willow leaned toward her. “You may be right. I’ve been thinking the same thing. But then I catch myself and remember she’s only sixteen. She’s troubled, yes. But she’s not a killer. At least I don’t think so.”
“What if it’s some kind of w
eird love triangle?” Brynn said. “Seems like she has a lot of boyfriends.”
Willow’s eyebrows shot up. “You may be on to something. As in the person who killed Donny? Maybe he was a spurned lover?”
“Yes.”
Willow folded her arms. “Trouble is we’d have a hard time choosing one. There are so many. And I don’t even think we know all of them.”
Brynn shivered. “Let’s figure out what we know. There’s a small notebook in my bag. Time to make a list.”
* * *
After they made their list, Brynn realized she didn’t know most of the young men around Shenandoah Springs. But why would she?
“There’s one man missing. The carnival guy.”
“I don’t know him,” Willow said. “You said she came out of his trailer? Which one was it?”
Brynn’s brain hurt as she tried to think. She shrugged. “I don’t recall. I’ll need to mull this over.”
“You look tired,” Willow said. “You should get some sleep. I need to get a move on, anyway.”
“I am tired,” Brynn said. “And my head hurts. Constantly.” She sank back into her pillow and closed her eyes. The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was Willow looking down at her and smiling sweetly.
* * *
She woke up to the sound of her phone ringing. Damn, she should have shut that off.
It was Becky. Uh-oh.
“Hello,” Brynn said, trying to sound like she hadn’t just been awakened.
“Hey, what’s up? How did the cheese contest go? I’ve been waiting on news from you. I know you’re busy, but geez.”
Brynn took a deep breath. She hadn’t called and told her sister yet about the concussion. “The cheese contest was interrupted. Someone shot Wes. He’s fine. It was a superficial wound.” “Superficial wound.” It felt odd coming out of her mouth.
“What? How awful!”
“I passed out and conked my head pretty good. In fact, I’m in Augusta Medical with a concussion.”
Silence on the other end of the phone.
“Becky?”
“Why didn’t you call?”
“I planned to call today. But I’ve been so tired and my head hurts.”
“We’ll be right up.”
“Wait. There’s no need for you to come. I know you’re busy. My friends have the farm covered. There’s nothing left to do with the cheese competition. There’s no reason for you to come and look at me lying in this bed.” Brynn’s sister cut and styled hair for a living, and if she left even for a day or two it took money out of her hands.
“I don’t care about any of that. I want to see you. I can shuffle a few appointments around. Don’t worry.”
“Are you certain?” Brynn wanted to cry, overwhelmed her sister would make a trip from Richmond to see her. She blinked away a tear.
“Thank you.”
“Did you say Wes was shot?”
“Yes, but they caught the young man. He was convinced that Wes is a member of Al-Qaeda.”
“That’s pretty specific,” Becky said.
“He’s on drugs, evidently. He saw that Wes is a person of interest in a local murder case and went crazy.”
“Did he know the victim?” Becky asked.
“Yes, they were friends evidently.”
“So possibly the victim was a druggy, too.”
Brynn hadn’t thought of that. When she first moved to Shenandoah Springs earlier in the year, she was shocked to find out about the drug problem here. “That’s a good point. But Willow was here earlier today. It seems like all the accidents and deaths have one person in common. A young woman named Chelsea.”
“What do you mean?”
Brynn pulled the covers closer. She was suddenly cold and shivery. “The first accident victim was seeing her. He was way too old for her.” She struggled to put words together. “The murder victim was also seeing her.”
“Love triangles and drugs. So the plot thickens. Hmmm. Lily, get down off of there!” Lily was Becky’s daughter. “I’ve got to go. My child is driving me nuts. But I hope to see you tomorrow.”
She clicked off the phone.
The fact that Becky was coming to see Brynn warmed her. Just as she sank back into another sleep, the doctor awakened her.
“Hello, Brynn,” he said. “How are you? Head still hurt?”
“Yes,” she said. “And I’m so sleepy.”
“Part of that is the pain medicine. But it’s also the concussion. You took a hard hit to the head.” He pulled out a small pen-like instrument. It was a flashlight. He shone it into her eyes.
“I realize this is going to be a bit tough, but no TV or computer screens at all for the next two weeks. Phone screens only when necessary. Even when you go home. Studies have shown that it’s detrimental to healing from a concussion.”
“I don’t watch much TV. But I do have a business to run.”
“Is the computer important to it?”
“We get orders from the computer and then there’s the website maintenance.”
“Have any help with that?”
Did she? Wait. Yes, of course. “Wes can take care of all of that, I guess. As long as he’s up to it. He was shot, you know.”
The doctor nodded. “What year is this?”
“Twenty-seventeen. No, wait. Twenty-nineteen.” Brynn was shocked “Twenty-seventeen” came out of her mouth.
“We’re going to have to keep you a few more days,” the doctor said.
“I have a farm to take care of. I need to get out of here,” she replied.
“Sorry. You have a concussion and won’t be going anywhere for a while,” he said, and left the room.
Brynn wanted to cry. Except it’d make her head hurt worse than it already did. She was worried about Wes, worried about her girls, and worried about the new cow. All that worry was not good for her own healing. It seemed to her as if she’d do much better at home. She’d mention that to the doctor the next time he came in. In the meantime, she lay back into her bed, pulled the covers up over her shoulders, and curled onto her side.
Chapter 20
Brynn wasn’t supposed to be looking at the computer screen or her phone, but she would be quick. She needed to research this young woman to see what was so special about her. She keyed in “Chelsea O’Connor” and a whole slew of things came up.
She was the captain of the cheerleaders. Of course.
On the homecoming court last year.
Honor roll student.
This girl’s life read like it was straight out of a book. All-American girl, who dated older men, a lot of boys, and was the captain of the cheerleading squad? How did she have time for all of it?
A picture of her with the boy who had dreadlocks popped onto the screen. The one who shot Wes. A tingle traveled up Brynn’s spine. The young woman actually did date the young man with the dreads. The young man who was on drugs and who shot Wes.
Could they be trying to set Wes up? If so, were the police following false leads about Wes? Was their questioning of him more than just because he’d discovered the body?
How would Brynn find out?
A knock sounded at her door. “Yoo-hoo, visitors!”
“Wes!” Brynn sat up in bed a little too quickly and became dizzy.
He rushed to her bedside. “Take it easy, Brynn!”
His dad, Nathaniel, came up beside him. “Hey, Brynn.” He looked serious, tired, and forlorn. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. I want to go home. I’d do much better there.”
“When are they going to spring you?” Wes asked.
“I have no idea,” she said, trying to will away the wave of weariness washing over her.
“Get better,” Wes said. “We’ve got everything under control. The farm. The cheese. Everything. I’m lucky the bullet only grazed me and I’ve a superficial wound. Doesn’t even bother me at this point.”
“Well, everything is not quite under control,” Nathaniel said. He had
the same droopy puppy-dog eyes as his mother, Nancy. “Wes still appears to be under suspicion. I’ve hired a lawyer to deal with it.”
“Dad! Let’s not worry Brynn with all this. It’s going to be okay. I didn’t do it.”
“I’m glad your dad brought it up. I wondered how things were going. I’ve been trying to figure it all out from my bed. So frustrating.”
“You shouldn’t be doing that. Concussions are tricky. Try not to think too hard,” Nathaniel said.
“Don’t waste your breath, Dad,” Wes said in a joking tone. “Once Brynn latches on to something, she doesn’t let it go.”
A smile cracked onto Nathaniel’s face. “That’s right. I remember.”
An awkward pause continued as they were each into their own thoughts. Brynn wasn’t sure, but she thought they all might be remembering Nancy, Nathaniel’s mom and Wes’s grandmother. At the time, Brynn didn’t rest until she figured out that mess.
“How well do you know Chelsea?” Brynn asked Wes.
“I think I told you . . . maybe you don’t remember? I don’t know her well.”
“Who’s Chelsea?” Nathaniel asked.
“I’m certain this case revolves around her. She’s the one common denominator. She’s sixteen. The daughter of Josh. She was dating the man killed in the accident, and the man who was murdered.”
“I’m sure the police are looking into it,” Wes said with a note of discomfort in his voice.
“Are they? It seems to me they are focused on you,” his father said. “I’d like to know why it’s gotten to be more than the fact that you found a body, right?”
Wes shrugged, frustrated.
A nurse walked in the room with Brynn’s medication. The two men stepped aside while the nurse gave her the pills.
“When can I go home?” Brynn missed her girls, her cat, and her dog. She missed the view from her window. She missed her own bed. She missed the new cow. All of it.
“That’s up to the doctor,” the nurse replied. “He should be in shortly. You can ask him then. Do you need anything?”
My own bed.
“I guess not,” Brynn said.
“I’d like to know more about Chelsea,” Nathaniel said after the nurse left.
“She’s just a girl who’s a bit confused,” Wes said. “She’s not a killer.”
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