“No problem.” He took a seat next to me. “What’d I miss?” He looked back and forth between his mom and me.
“I was telling Georgia about Debbie. Anyway, I never got the whole story on why they sold—something about Pam wanting to take on a new venture—but it turned out just as well, I suppose, since Debbie got sick.”
“How’d she die?”
“Breast cancer.” Sheri gazed out the window at the cars streaming by. “I tell you. Debbie sure got a double whammy that year. Breast cancer and an early Alzheimer’s diagnosis within a two-month period. Truth be told, it’s probably good the cancer took her. Would’ve been awful for Tara to lose her mother to Alzheimer’s.” Tears welled in Sheri’s eyes. “Guess it didn’t matter in the end.”
I put my shake on the table and focused all my attention on Sheri. “Was Debbie diagnosed with early Alzheimer’s before or after Pam sold the restaurant?”
Sheri tilted her head and looked at Nick, who shrugged. “I’m not sure. Debbie kept things to herself and dealt with them privately, so who knows how long she was diagnosed before she told me.” She emitted a tiny laugh. “She was seven months along before she told me she was pregnant with Tara.”
I spooned out a bite of ice cream while I considered everything Sheri had told me. What if Pam had tricked Debbie into signing over her half of Irresistible? That would’ve been easy to do prior to her Alzheimer’s diagnosis, especially since Pam already had power over Debbie. Had Tara suspected that’s what’d happened when her inheritance wasn’t as much as it should’ve been? “This is nosy, and I’m sorry, but did Tara inherit any money from her mom?”
“No need to apologize.” Sheri shook her head. “Don’t think there was much left since my sister had some debt.”
“If we could ever find that accordion file of hers, we’d know for sure,” Nick said.
Everything was starting to make sense, and I needed to talk to Cal. ASAP. “Thanks. You’ve been a big help.” I stood and put on my coat. “One more thing before I go. How did Tara feel about Pam?”
Sheri’s mouth twisted. “Like a second mother.”
That would make Pam’s betrayal all the more unbelievable and probably explained why Tara had wanted to investigate so quietly.
I grabbed my milkshake. “Thanks for the ice cream. I’ll catch you later.”
I raced out of the shop and tried calling Cal again when I was back in my car. This time I left a message. “Cal, I need you to call me or come see me as soon as possible. It’s important.”
When my eyes fell on Kelsey’s scarf on the passenger’s seat, I scowled and texted her to come pick it up. I had bigger problems than running a delivery service for lost items.
I disconnected and started Gretel Grand Prix while I wracked my brain for a way to prove that Pam had killed Tara. Fortunately, traffic was light because I was on autopilot as I navigated the roads out to my farm.
First, it was plausible that Pam could’ve found out that Tara had plans to hunt with J.T. He told me that they’d texted about hunting together. The cabinets where Eatable employees kept their coats and purses didn’t contain locks, and their phones weren’t allowed in the kitchens. Pam could’ve sneaked into Tara’s purse while she was teaching.
Second, it was possible that a woman who may have cheated her best friend out of her half of ownership in a restaurant would be unscrupulous enough to access Max’s books and change the records to implicate J.T. But would she have the expertise to hack a yield monitor? Unless Max was better with technology than he’d claimed and he’d helped.
Even though she may’ve known about Tara’s plans to hunt, the thought of Pam sneaking out into the woods to kill Tara didn’t make sense. Working around food meant Pam had plenty of easier opportunities to murder Tara if she felt her shady business dealings were about to be exposed.
Who else would’ve had access to Tara’s phone at Eatable?
Haley.
Cal had told me Mike alibied out because Haley had slept over the night before Tara’s death. What if Haley had lied? If she was starting a relationship with him, it would make sense that she’d want to protect him—and herself.
The night I’d met her, she’d been studying for a college chemistry test. Would she have the expertise to make a bomb and hack a yield monitor? I had to see if I could figure out her major.
Gravel popped under my car’s tires as I turned into my driveway. My garage door creaked open, and I pulled Gretel inside, turned off the engine, and shut the garage door.
Not wanting to wait another second, I reached for my phone, opened Facebook, and located Haley’s profile. A handful of recent pictures of Haley and Mike indicated she’d made their relationship public, but one detail made my stomach clench.
A student at Richardville Community College, Haley was studying chemistry and computer science and was planning to graduate in December.
My breath hitched. She could’ve hacked my yield monitor. Because if Max had moved in with Pam, and Haley lived with her mother, then Haley would’ve had access to Max’s store keys—maybe even a laptop.
But why would Haley have been stalking Tara?
I froze as the answer hit me. To get proof that Tara was cheating on Mike, so she could have Mike for herself.
I slammed my car door and raced across my garage. On the way, I tossed my empty milkshake container in the can by the back door.
As I inserted my key into the deadbolt lock, a hand clasped over my mouth. A scream rose up, catching in my throat. Thrusting my elbow backward, I nailed my assailant’s bosom. She ooffed and relaxed her grip.
I jerked away, whipped around, slapped the garage door opener on the wall, and sprinted toward my car.
Two more steps. I lunged for the door.
My head wrenched back when the attacker caught my braid.
I yelped and struggled while she pulled me into a choking grip. Cool metal jabbed my neck, and I glanced down.
A gun.
A sensation of a thousand spiders crawled over my body. The grinding whirr of the opening garage door stopped, magnifying the silence.
I turned as far as I could to get a look at her round face. “Haley?” My words were halting and raspy, and my pulse thrummed.
“I warned you to stop poking around.” She narrowed her eyes.
“You’re going to kill me like you did Tara.” I had to get answers, and maybe I could distract her long enough to think of an escape plan. Please let someone drive by and see us.
“It’ll be fun.”
“You’d better hope it’s more effective than the bomb you planted in my truck.” Seriously? I wanted to shove the words back in. Forget Nice Georgia. If I wanted to live, I’d better be Smart Georgia.
A slow smile spread over Haley’s face. “You got lucky. I’d been looking for the perfect opportunity to plant it. When I stopped to see my mom at Eatable, I overheard Morgan on the phone planning to meet you at that dive bar, and that was my chance.”
Distract her. She clearly enjoyed talking. “The move with the yield monitor was brilliant. I’d never thought about them being able to be hacked, but why not? They’re like any other computer. Of course, that means there’s the potential for things going wrong, but the data we’ve been able to generate through the years has been helpful. We’re much more efficient than we—”
“Shut up!”
My talking-a-mile-a-minute strategy wasn’t going to work. She pushed me out the back door and pointed me toward the grain bins that towered to the north of the pole barn. I dragged my feet, leaving trails in the rocks.
Haley tightened her chokehold. “Lift your feet.”
My chest tightened, and I obeyed, which allowed her to steer me more easily. Please, God. Let someone drive by. I strained, praying for the swoosh of an approaching vehicle but heard only the metallic clang of the flagpole.
My ankle twisted, and I stumbled. Haley growled, straightened me, and pushed me until the pole barn hid us from the road. I glanced ar
ound, hoping Grandpa had left out a shovel or some tool I could use as a weapon, but, as usual, nothing was out of place.
An orange cat darted from behind the grain bins and took shelter in the old red barn where he resided with several of his feline friends.
She stopped at the foot of the southeast bin’s spiral staircase that snaked up the side and led to the roof hatch. “Climb.” She released her grip on my torso and shoved me forward.
No way. My stomach dropped. The platform at the top was thirty-three feet from the ground, which was why Grandpa and I had installed a staircase instead of a ladder. I faced her. “Why’d you kill Tara?”
She aimed the gun at my chest. “You haven’t figured it out?”
“No.”
“But you have a theory.”
“Yep.”
“Spill it.” Haley called me a name that should never be used to describe a lady.
Dizziness swept over me, and I gripped the handrail to steady myself. The chilled metal bit my palm. “Fine.” How long could I stretch this story out before she made me climb the stairs? I took a deep breath. “You’re in love with Mike.”
Haley’s glared softened. “Yes. He’s amazing.” Her furrowed brow reappeared, and she waved the gun. “Go on.”
“But Tara was seeing him, and he was serious about her. Then you heard she was cheating, so you started spying on her. Your got into her phone while she was teaching at Eatable. You hoped to find text messages as proof, right?”
Haley’s eyes darkened. “She’d erased all of her messages except the one J.T. had sent a few minutes before I looked. He gave her an address and said, ‘See ya tomorrow. Can’t wait to hunt.’”
“That was your chance to get evidence.”
She scowled. “I had to find the place in the middle of nowhere. Figure out where to park my car so it wouldn’t be suspicious. Hike through the woods.” She wrinkled her nose.
“Wait. Where did you park your car?”
“The high school lot.” She smirked, and her round cheeks no longer made her look innocent. “The Wildcat Trail goes right by the school, so I took it as far as it went and cut through the woods until I could see the tree stand. I hid behind an old sycamore tree to spy on them.” Her eyes gleamed.
“Weren’t you with Mike? You’re each other’s alibis.”
“A little sedative in his beer, and he slept all night.” She lifted her chin.
This chick was way too proud of herself. Keep her talking. “J.T. and Tara argued about her refusal to end her relationship with Mike.”
“Yep. But I got lots of good pictures of them getting cozy before the fight.”
“J.T. left, and then what happened?”
“Tara started sobbing. If there’d been a deer within ten miles, she’d have scared it off. When she climbed down, her foot slipped, and she fell. I thought I’d hear her yell for help—not that I planned to call 911—but she was quiet. I went over to see if she was dead. It’d be huge for me and my mom if Tara was out of the way.” She waved the gun as if she needed to remind me who was in control. “Know why?”
“Because your mother tricked Debbie Fullerton into signing over her half of Irresistible before they closed the restaurant. Since they worked together, your mom noticed the changes in Debbie and guessed she had early onset Alzheimer’s.”
“Very good.”
“Tara figured out what Pam had done when her inheritance wasn’t as much as it should’ve been. That’s why she was investigating your mom and why she wanted my help instead of going to the police.”
Haley sneered. “Mom caught Tara coming out of her office. Tara made up some lame excuse that Mom pretended to buy, but she was on to her. We’d been trying to get a copy of her apartment key, so I could get in and see what she had on Mom, but Tara never left her keys in her locker at work. Always had them in her pants pocket.”
Road noise caused me to hold my breath and pray for the crunch of tires against gravel, but the vehicle zoomed past. Please, God. Let Cal get my message and come see me.
Haley clenched her jaw and tightened her grip on the gun. “Mom thought Tara was so great. It made me sick. Growing up, it was Tara this, Tara that. At least until she was a druggie. Then she kicked the habit and went to culinary school, so Mom thought she was wonderful again.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No you’re not.” She waved her gun.
I had to get her refocused. A random detail I’d learned from Nick and Sheri popped into my head. “Did you take Tara’s accordion file?”
“Tara may’ve been protective of her keys at work, but she gave me the perfect opportunity by leaving them in her car the day she was hunting. I used an app to take a picture of her house key and had a copy made. Then, Mom and I snuck into her apartment and grabbed the file the night after Tara died.”
“Pretty slick, except for the part where you locked her car when you put the keys back in.”
Haley’s nostrils flared. “Shut up.” She closed the gap between us and pressed the gun to my side.
I held up my hands in surrender as my heart thudded to my feet. “Let’s back up. Something’s still not clear.”
“Go on.”
“When you found Tara, she was alive, right?”
“She was unconscious. Shallow breathing, but I decided to put her out of her misery and save my mom and me some major headaches. So, I put on a glove, covered her nose and mouth, and got rid of a problem.” She smirked. “Then I burned the camera and everything I was wearing.”
“Smart. Except you didn’t count on the suffocation showing up in the autopsy, so when it did, you had to have a suspect. You used your Mom’s connection with Max Jenkins to set up J.T. With your background in computer science, it was easy.”
“Max needs better security at that store. He’s way too trusting.” She wrinkled her nose. “He can’t wait to have me out of my mom’s house, so I didn’t feel bad about messing with his stuff. Besides, he’s always droning on and on about tractors. Total snore fest. The one time I was remotely interested is when he told me how much technology is used in modern farming and gave me a tour of the latest combine model. Anyway.” She motioned toward the staircase. “Up you go.”
I considered her possible plans. She could push me off the platform, let me splatter onto the ground, and play the suffocation card one more time—if necessary. Or she might be planning to force me into the bin where the corn would suffocate me.
Neither sounded like a good way to go.
I climbed three steps, whipped around, and knocked the gun from her grip. It clattered onto the gravel. Before I could jump over the handrail and retrieve the gun, Haley dove down, reclaimed the weapon, and aimed at me.
Boom!
I tumbled over the handrail, collapsed on the ground, and moaned as searing pain tore through my arm and stone bit my left side. Blood saturated my right coat sleeve, which now contained a gaping hole.
Haley slapped her gloved paw against my mouth and nose. Flailing my legs, I bit her hand. Darkness edged my vision.
No, please God.
A piercing scream sliced the air.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Haley lifted her hand from my nose and mouth as she whirled toward the scream. I gulped oxygen and lifted my head.
Kelsey stood with her hands up, her phone on the ground beside her.
My heart dropped.
Haley leveled the gun at Kelsey’s chest. “Get over here.”
Kelsey’s jaw tightened, and for a split second it seemed like she was about to tell Haley no, but she stepped forward, her leopard print heels causing her to teeter in the rocks.
I couldn’t let Kelsey die—not when this was all my fault. Pushing my left hand into the rocks, I forced myself to sit up on my left hip. Another wave of dizziness rolled through my vision. When it passed, Kelsey met my eyes. Though they were fear-filled, a grim resolve settled in her expression.
“I came to get my scarf,” she said.
&nbs
p; “You should’ve called first,” Haley jeered.
Using my left hand for leverage, I stumbled to my feet.
Haley’s face twisted as she swung toward me.
I met Kelsey’s eyes again, and she lunged at Haley’s abdomen as I leaped at her back.
“Ooofff.” Haley doubled over as we sandwiched her—and because I outweighed Haley by a good fifty pounds. My fingers clawed her shoulders while Kelsey wrenched the gun from her hand and aimed it at her.
Haley swore.
Kelsey held the weapon steady while I pushed my knee in Haley’s back, forcing her to the ground. Keeping my weight on her, I used my left hand to pull the string out of the hood on my sweatshirt. I held it out to Kelsey. “I can’t use my right arm.”
Her eyes clouded with concern as they fell on my blood-soaked arm. “Yep.” She put the gun on the ground out of Haley’s reach before using the string to bind her hands. I kept pressure on Haley’s back as she bucked back and forth using cuss words as nouns, adjectives, and verbs.
When Haley’s hands were secure, Kelsey scrambled to her phone, picked it up, and raced back toward me, dialing as she ran. “I’m calling 911.”
The paramedic wheeled me toward the ambulance, amid the chaos that’d broken out on my farm. Sheriff’s deputies swarmed around. Grandpa had gotten a call from Old Man Smith, who monitored the police scanner, and had arrived at the same time as the ambulance. He was sitting in his truck, waiting to follow the ambulance to Richard County Hospital.
Cal raced to my side and grasped my left hand. His blue eyes filled with concern.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get your message sooner.” He let go of my hand, and the paramedic loaded me into the ambulance.
“Haley killed Tara,” I croaked. “She set up J.T.”
“I’ll take care of everything.” He squeezed my hand. “Focus on getting better. You did great today.”
I managed to catch a glimpse of Cal’s dimple before the paramedic slammed the ambulance door.
It turned out the bullet had passed through my fleshy arm, leaving no permanent damage, a fact for which I thanked the good Lord. Between that and having the bulk to take down Haley, I guessed God knew what he was doing, giving me some extra meat on my bones.
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