A Crafter Quilts a Crime
Page 22
The detective turned her to face him again by placing a hand on her shoulder and encouraging her to turn around. “Please just tell me what’s going on, will you?” His eyes softened. “This isn’t helping. You need to talk to me.”
Sammy didn’t answer but reached for a nearby cabinet, fished out two large glass-handled mugs, and proceeded to fill them with a ladle that she removed from a hook hanging on the side of the cupboard.
“It smells delicious.”
The detective stood over the stove, waved his hand in front of the saucepan, and breathed in the wafting steam. Sammy thought this was his way of deflection to get her to open up and talk again. He was darn good at his job.
“It sure does. I wish I could take the credit, but my sister actually made it. Meatball soup is one of her specialties. She cooks it every winter, and it’s one of the few things that makes me look forward to January. It’s like a hug in a mug. Here you go.” Sammy handed the detective his oversized glass mug along with a spoon and then took hold of her own. “Let’s go and eat our soup in front of the fireplace, okay? I’ve got a chill in my bones I can’t seem to shake.” When they arrived back into the living room, she signaled for him to take the leather recliner. “There’s a table beside the chair if you need it.” She indicated the wooden TV tray with a nod of her head as she sank into the nearby love seat, balancing her soup.
Before saying another word, she simply held the mug in her hands and felt the warmth of the heat emanating from within. It felt so good to be home. She hoped whatever she was about to share with Liam wouldn’t take her away from the comfort of home and land her in a cold jail cell.
The detective was taking his first spoonful of soup when she said, “I saw Marty.”
He nearly spit the soup from his mouth. “Excuse me?”
Sammy proceeded to tell him all that had happened, from the moment she parked her car in front of the Wadsworths’ Queen Anne Victorian to her horrific ordeal during her kidnapping, and she didn’t stop until she had unloaded the entire day’s events leading up to that point. After she had finally relayed all that had occurred, she noted he hadn’t gotten angry with her. Instead, he had only encouraged her to keep talking and seemed to grow more compassionate. She felt lighter, as if a weight had been lifted and the opportunity to talk openly with him was now back on the table. Maybe he wouldn’t throw her in jail after all.
“And Marty let you go?” The surprise on the detective’s face was priceless when he finally spoke. His reaction made her feel as if he’d thought Marty might somehow be involved in Wanda’s death. He dug his spoon deep into the mug, came up with chunks of potato and meat, and dove into it heartily, which made her smile. Evidently she wasn’t the only one who loved her sister’s soup recipe.
“Yeah, he did. Which leads me to believe he’s telling the truth. I don’t think he poisoned his wife. Wouldn’t he have made sure I didn’t get out of the camper alive if that were the case? Besides, he told me someone held a gun to his head. Of course, he could have just been lying to me to create an alibi. Anyhow, I think something else is going on here. I found a picture of a guy named Adam with Wanda’s brother, Jackson, at the farm where Marty brought me. Has Adam Boyd hit your radar yet? Allegedly, he’s a friend of Marty’s, and from what I understand, Adam was involved in the card games Marty was into. Apparently, large amounts of money have been changing hands at those gatherings. There’s a chance this could be about money. Maybe a few of the guys he’s been playing cards with wanted their money back? Although I’m not exactly sure what this would have to do with Wanda—unless they felt she was getting in the way.”
Sammy’s demeanor turned pensive. “What I can tell you is that Adam is somehow connected to the farm where Marty took me. Otherwise, why would there be a photo on the wall of him and Jackson? And I recently met the guy at Community Craft. He came into the shop and compared medicine to lethal poison. Interesting timing, in my opinion. Like maybe he knew something about Wanda being poisoned. How would he know?
The detective set his empty mug on the tray table beside the recliner. “The department has been following up on a few leads, but to be honest, the name Adam Boyd hasn’t crossed my path yet. I did, however, find an interesting link between a few farmers that seems very disturbing and might possibly be a motive. But again, I’m not sure why Wanda would’ve been targeted and not Marty.” The detective steeped his fingers and held them to his lips.
“How so? I mean, what’s the link? Because I also heard Craig had some work issues going on with Marty too, and some important papers were tossed in the fire. Maybe Craig’s involved somehow? There was a pretty big argument at my shop between Cheryl and Craig the night of Fire and Ice,” Sammy said thoughtfully. She set her spoon aside and drank the tomatoey liquid until it was gone. She’d have to call Ellie and thank her again for leaving the food behind, as it hit the spot perfectly.
“Well, from some of the people I’ve interviewed, it seems there are a few farmers who are pretty ticked off about the seed Marty’s been selling to their neighbors.” The detective adjusted in the leather recliner, causing it to groan.
“Just to clarify—not seed Marty’s been selling to them, but seed he’s selling to their neighbors?”
“Exactly. Several of the farms adjacent to the ones that purchased seed from Marty seem to have a connection. They all lost more than half their crop this year. When the farmers began to exchange stories, they realized what they have in common, Marty’s name keeps popping up. On all the neighboring farms, all but one, has lost acres of crop this past fall.”
Sammy set down her empty mug and then snapped a finger. It was as if a lightbulb had gone on in her mind. “I think I know why.”
The detective waited expectantly.
“Dicamba. I think Marty was selling dicamba-ready seed instead of Roundup-ready. When seed grows and it’s been doused with dicamba, the pollen or parts of the plant grown from that specific seed have the potential to blow onto neighboring fields. The chemical is so strong, it can wipe out an adjacent crop. I don’t think it’s even been legally tested, or at least the testing hasn’t been finished yet through the FDA. I think he’s been selling test seed without the neighboring farms knowing it, and they have no way to protect their fields.”
“How do you know all this?” Shock riddled the detective’s face. “Since when did you become an expert on farm seed?”
“My aunt and uncle had a farm growing up—Heidi’s parents were farmers. She knows a lot about seed, and I happened to find research on the Wadsworths’ computer when I was …” She cleared her throat, realizing she’d taken the conversation a bit too far, and closed her lips and held them tight.
“When you broke into their house. Yeah, I heard about that.” He eyed her. “Tim told me. Which, by the way, I have every authority to throw you in jail and toss away the key.” He raked his hand through his thick hair.
Sammy grimaced. “I’m sorry. Are you going to arrest me?”
The detective didn’t answer. Instead he lifted the empty mug off the tray table and peered into it with longing for more. “That was amazing, by the way.” He set the mug back down and wiped his mouth with his hand. Sammy handed him a Kleenex, which was the closest thing she had to a napkin, since she’d forgotten to grab any when she was in the kitchen. “Can I get you a refill?”
“Nah, I’d better not. I don’t have a lot of time. But thanks.”
Nash didn’t say any more on the subject of arresting her, so Sammy pushed forward. “Did you happen to get the toxicology report back yet? Do you know what poisoned Wanda?”
The detective paused and breathed deep, as if considering whether he should share. “It looks like a honey made with mountain laurel is the culprit.”
Sammy stood from the love seat and began to pace the room. “Mountain laurel? Where does mountain laurel come from? Is it an herb supplement or something?”
“No, it’s a wildflower grown in the Smoky Mountains, and—”
The detective stood from the recliner and moved close to her. “Sammy, listen to me. You’ve gotten in way over your head on this. I’m going to need you to stand down and trust me to do my job.” His voice softened. “I’m worried about you. I think you’ve been through enough already.” Their eyes locked, and for a moment, their self-protective walls came tumbling down.
Liam intimately brushed the hair away from her eyes. He looked at her with growing intensity and leaned toward her, and their lips were just about to touch when his cell phone rang, instantly jolting him back to the present moment. He reached for his phone and answered the call.
“Nash,” he said curtly as he placed the cell phone to his ear. “I’m on my way.”
Sammy searched him looking for answers.
“It’s Marty. The FBI picked him up, and they’re bringing him back to the police station. I’ve gotta go.” He swiveled on his heel toward the door.
The close call of their kiss was over. Sammy felt the air seep out of her like a deflated balloon. She followed him to the front door and held it open for him. The detective turned to face her.
“I have to ask—do you want to come in and file a kidnapping charge, or can you hold off?” He reached to touch her gently on her cheek and rubbed it with his thumb, sending a new tickle down her spine. “I would never put you in danger, Samantha, but I think keeping Marty in custody is going to hamper my case. I need to be able to follow him after my interrogation to see what’s really going on here.”
“No, I can wait. Do what you have to do to get to the bottom of this. I understand,” Sammy said with deep resolve. She reached for his hand beside her cheek and gave it a tight squeeze before he let go.
Sammy’s eyes dropped to the floor, and a pause came between them. Then the detective reached for her chin so their eyes would meet and gave her a penetrating stare. “Trust me when I say, there will be a tail on Marty the minute he leaves the station. Not to worry. Keep your doors locked, though, and call me anytime, night or day, if you feel your safety is in jeopardy. Do you hear?” He waited for her nod before stepping out the door.
After he left, she realized there was one important thing she’d forgotten to mention before his abrupt absence—the cut-up magazine she’d found at the farmhouse.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Sammy paced in front of the storefront window at Community Craft, trying desperately to settle down and focus on her work. Her mind was otherwise occupied. Looking at the display window was a constant reminder that she hadn’t yet put the final pieces together to determine who had caused Wanda to perish within the confines of her shop. Had Marty confessed? Did Nash think the man had faked his own kidnapping as a ruse? And what had happened between them during his interrogation? The detective had almost kissed her. She held a hand to her cheek as she felt a sudden rush of crimson rise to her face.
“What’s with you today?” Deborah stepped in front of Sammy midstride to block her incessant pacing, grabbed hold of both her arms, and gave her a teasing shake to gain her attention. “You okay?”
“What do you mean? I’m trying to fix the display. Something’s wrong with it; I just can’t put my finger on what.” Sammy frowned and lifted a finger to rest on her lower lip.
“Nothing’s wrong with it.” Deborah waved a hand of dismissal. “It looks great, and as a matter of fact, we’ve sold a lot of quilts because of it. Or maybe it’s just because of the sudden rush of cold weather that we’re selling so many quilts now. It’s been freezing, which is quite good for blanket business! In any event, you look like a caged animal at the zoo longing to escape.” She chuckled. “I’m wondering if people walking by on Main Street see the same thing.” Deborah pointed out the window at a passerby, who lifted a hand in greeting at the sight of them.
Sammy laughed. “I won’t argue that this weather has me feeling a little cagey. How many more days do we have until spring?” she sang out, stepping away from Deborah to adjust the soy candles on a nearby rack to ensure that all the labels were facing front and center.
“We’ve got quite a while before tulips will be popping around here,” Deborah remarked with a laugh. She then returned to the cash register, where a customer stood patting Bara on the head and waiting patiently.
Sammy always smiled when she noticed her dog bringing a customer joy. She was so relieved and happy to have Bara back with her and in good health. Lynn had taken such good care of him that she’d have to take her to lunch, or at the very least coffee, as a token of gratitude.
She returned her attention to the display window and noticed Tim heading in the direction of Liquid Joy. She rushed out the door, lifted her hand to the side of her mouth, and yelled the officer’s name until he turned in her direction and crossed the street to join her.
Sammy rubbed her hands up and down her sweater sleeves, shivering as she waited outside for the officer so she could have a private moment with him.
“What are you doing out here? Get back inside where it’s warm, Sammy.” Tim opened the door to Community Craft and stepped in behind her. “Look, if you’re looking for intel by calling me over here, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
Sammy looked over her shoulder to see if they were alone and could talk without anyone overhearing before she placed her hand gently on Tim’s arm to diffuse his thought. He looked down at her hand on his arm and shook it loose, shrugging her off.
“I’m done sharing anything that goes on within my department with all you S.H.E.s.” He gave her a dirty look. “Don’t ask me another thing. I’m tired of getting in trouble over you three.” He lifted three fingers and held them close to her nose.
“I know.” Sammy brushed his hand away from her face. “I called you over here to sincerely apologize. For all three of us S.H.E.s. It’s my fault. H and E would never have gotten so far involved in this if it weren’t for me. I’m completely and totally one hundred percent responsible.” She held a hand to her heart. “And it’s crushing me to know the damage I’ve caused,” she added sincerely.
The officer’s thick blond brows narrowed, creating one continuous line across his face. He looked at her with growing suspicion, shaking his head. “I don’t believe you. You’re all consenting adults; how could this be solely your fault?” He flicked a finger in her direction. “Although you three do seem to revert back to your youth when you’re in each other’s company, I highly doubt you can control Heidi like a puppet.”
“Tim, please,” Sammy pleaded as she took his arm again. “I think you’re making a big mistake blaming Heidi for this. She loves you, and I know for a fact she feels horrible for causing you any trouble with your job. She wouldn’t have done any of it if she wasn’t so loyal to me, though, which is why I think you should cut her some slack. You know, I’m convincing when I want to be with both my sister and cousin.” She gave him a sly smile. “I’ve gotten both of them into a lot of trouble in the past, and I think I’ve finally learned my lesson.”
The officer regarded her warily. “I highly doubt that. That you’ve learned your lesson, I mean. Even though your latest excursion led to your being kidnapped and might have gotten you killed, I don’t see you stopping your sleuthing anytime soon.” He tucked his hands inside his thick police belt and held them there firmly.
Sammy wasn’t surprised he’d heard about Marty taking her against her will. “Please just think about what I’ve said and take it into consideration?” Sammy nudged him playfully with her elbow. “Promise me at the very least you’ll marinate on it?”
“Okay, o
kay, I heard you. I appreciate what you’re trying to do, Sammy, really I do.” Tim’s eyes left her as his attention was diverted by something on the other side of the glass front door. He opened it and yelled across the street. “Nash! Hey, Nash, over here.” He signaled Liam with a whistle, caught his attention, and beckoned the detective to join them with his hand.
Sammy hadn’t seen or heard from Liam since their near kiss. Her heart fluttered at the thought of it. She also wondered about the latest intel on Marty, but true to her word, with Officer Tim Maxwell present, she’d have to keep a tight lip. She watched the detective navigate the traffic to cross the street and join them. It wouldn’t be easy …
“Greetings. What no-good thing are you two discussing?” Nash said in a teasing tone, giving a nod of his head. When Tim looked out the window for a moment at a passerby on Main Street, Liam winked at her, causing heat to rise in her cheeks. She hoped it wasn’t noticeable.
“To be honest, I was just sincerely apologizing, and I’m hoping Officer Maxwell will reconsider things with my cousin,” Sammy blurted. Why did she always say exactly what she was thinking the second she thought it? She wondered a little too late if this was something Tim had wanted to keep private, if he indeed kept his personal life separate from his work.
“Ah.” Nash raised a brow and placed his hands on his hips.
“And you, Detective?” Sammy asked. “Jonesing for some afternoon pick-me-up over there?” She gestured a hand toward Liquid Joy.
He agreed with a smile.
“I forgot to tell you something very important. A significant detail that shouldn’t be overlooked. The farmhouse where Marty took me had a magazine with cut-out letters in a wastepaper basket, like the ones used to create the ransom note. You may want to get a warrant and check it out,” Sammy said, rubbing her hands up and down her arms in an attempt to warm up. She couldn’t seem to get the chill out of her bones.