"Worried? Anything new?" Opal said.
I shrugged. "Her mom's sick and her sister's in jail. Not exactly the ideal holiday season."
"Bless her heart," Opal said.
"Is Sheriff Kocurek making any progress on the investigation?" Flora asked.
"Far as he's concerned, it's an open-and-shut case," Opal said. "But Lucy here isn't convinced. For good reason; that Randy Stone wasn't the most popular man in Buttercup."
"What do you know about his sister Jenna?" I asked. "I heard she wasn't too happy about her brother being in line to inherit the business."
Opal narrowed her eyes. "You thinkin' she might be the one?"
I shrugged. "I'm just exploring all the possibilities right now. I wondered if you knew anything."
As I spoke, there was another knock at the door. Molly went to answer it; a moment later, Quinn came into the warm cozy kitchen, carrying her knitting bag on one shoulder, her cheeks flushed. "I can't stay long," she said, "but I wanted to check in."
"Lucy here was just asking about Jenna," Opal informed her as Molly gave her a mug of hot cider.
"What about her?" Quinn asked.
"I heard down at the Hitching Post that she wasn't too happy with her brother Randy."
"I'd heard that, too," Quinn said.
"What else did you hear?"
"Well, she was in the other day, talkin' on the phone," Quinn said, "and I heard her say she was afraid he would run the business into the ground if he had the chance."
"Might be worth mentioning to Rooster," I suggested to Opal.
"I'll tell him, but he won't listen."
"Did you mention Rhonda to him?"
"I did," she said, "but he figured she'd show up. Said if someone filed a missing persons report, he'd look in to it, but he hadn't heard anything."
I sighed. Rooster was many things. Helpful was definitely not one of them.
I headed home after adding about half an inch to Tobias's very short scarf, and spent some time catching up with things at the farm. I'd just finished harvesting some greens for the café and the Red and White Grocery when Tobias called.
"How do you feel about a trip to the Stone ranch this afternoon? " he asked.
I looked at the clock. I might be late to the Market, but it was a risk worth taking. "I'm in."
7
The Stone ranch was anything but stony, as it turned out.
"This place is huge," I told Tobias as we bumped down the long winding road from the highway. Tobias had gotten a call about a lame cow, and I was along for the ride… and to see if I could sniff out any information.
Enormous Angus cattle browsed the pasture on either side of us, in clusters here and there on the hilly terrain. The land seemed well cared for; some overgrazed pastures seemed to consist of nothing but prickly pear cactus and mesquite trees, but even though it was winter, I could see that the vegetation wasn't picked completely clean, and that the land lacked the stressed look I often saw on poorly managed ranches.
"William Stone is a good rancher," Tobias confirmed. "He spends money to make sure his cattle are healthy; he's been moving into producing some grass-fed cattle, too."
"That means they don't go to the feedlot to get fattened up on grains, doesn't it?"
"Exactly. The meat is more expensive, but it's better for the animals—and the people who eat the meat."
Even though I was a meat eater myself, I still had a hard time with the idea of raising animals for food—other than milk and eggs, that is. But if you were going to do it, I liked the idea of cows being able to enjoy a decent life outdoors. Not that outdoors in summer in Texas could be considered decent, but it sure was better than a feedlot.
"Have you met all the Stones?" I asked as the barns came into view. They were new, made of corrugated metal, and well maintained. The ranch house, a sprawling, stone building with two wings, was visible a short distance away, with a grove of oak trees sheltering it and a pond with a few geese floating placidly. Not a bad setup.
"I have," Tobias confirmed.
"What do you think of them?"
"I've only met them in passing. William Stone is a good stockman, though. He rotates his pastures and makes sure his animals are in good shape. I met Jenna a few times; she seemed to have a good head on her shoulders. She has a job in a bank in Houston somewhere, I think.
"And you've met Randy?"
"I have," he said. "Only once, though." He grimaced. "Frank was right, I think. All hat and no cattle. He was a good glad-hander, though."
"And more than that," I added, thinking of Rhonda, and her relationship with the now-deceased young man. "I guess he won't get the ranch now, at least. It's a lot of acreage."
"It is," Tobias agreed. "At least a thousand acres."
"Land's running around 12K an acre right now, isn't it? That's a lot of potential money in the bank."
"It's been in the family for fifty years. I don't know how much they owe on it, but unless they've refinanced, it can't be much compared to what it's worth." He glanced at me. "Not a bad motive, is it?"
"It's not," I said. "Too bad we can't just ask who inherits."
"Not directly, anyway." Tobias pulled up next to one of the barns, and we both got out. There was the sound of a cow lowing from inside the building. When Tobias and I walked in, we were greeted by a young woman with blond hair scraped back into a ponytail and a pair of faded jeans with mud smears on the cuffs. She wore weathered boots and a flannel shirt that was two sizes too big for her, and her face was drawn.
"Dr. Brandt?" she asked in a pleasant, competent voice. She wiped her hands on the front of her jeans and offered one for him to shake.
"Good to see you, Jenna," Tobias said, taking her hand and shaking it. "This is my girlfriend, Lucy Resnick; she owns a small farm close to town. I'm so sorry about your brother," he added as they finished shaking hands and I proffered my own.
"Thanks," she said as she gave my hand a firm shake. "It's all been a shock. Mom went into the hospital yesterday, and my husband Simon and I've been helping Daddy out around the place while he stays with her. It's never a good time, but just before the holidays..." She grimaced. "It's been hard."
"I'm so sorry," I said, echoing Tobias. "Is there anything we can do to help?"
"Unless you can bring him back, I'm afraid not," she said. "Mother and Daddy are just beside themselves. I took off work until after New Year's, but I don't know what they're going to do when I have to go back to Houston."
"Don't you have help on the ranch? It's a big place to manage alone; I thought your dad had a few hands taking care of things."
"He does," she said, "but the place has to be managed. And Randy started a few projects I have to..." She trailed off. "It'll all work out," she said in a firm voice, then turned to the sick cow. "In the meantime, I'm hoping you can take a look at her back foot. It's swollen, and she's having a hard time walking."
"Hi, sweetheart!" There was a voice from the door to the barn. I turned to see a tall, good-looking man in designer jeans, a crisp white button-down shirt, and what appeared to be very expensive boots.
"Hi, Simon," Jenna said, brightening.
"What’s going on out here?"
"Taking care of this cow," she said.
"Be careful," he said, putting a protective arm around her and kissing her on the top of her head. "I don't want anything to happen to you."
"You're sweet, " she said. "I’ll be just fine. I’ve been doing this since I was a kid."
"You'd love it out here, wouldn't you?" he said. He turned to us. "What's it like, living in the country?"
"It’s nice," I said. "Everyone knows everyone, and it's good to be away from the city."
"I guess we'll be spending more time out here, so I'll find out myself," he said.
"I’m sorry about your brother-in-law.”
"Circle of life, I suppose," he said. "Randy and I were never close, but it's hard on Jenna and her family. Anyhow, I was just coming to check
on my sweetheart. Nice to meet you," he said, and wandered out of the barn.
Jenna rolled her eyes. "I love him, but he’s such a city boy."
I grinned. I was a city girl, too, but not quite in the same way.
As Tobias tended to the lame cow, there was a lull in the conversation. I walked around the barn, which was in tip-top condition, then strolled outside.
The ranch house looked like it had been built in the fifties and added on to a few times, with a wing of similar stone with a slightly different color mortar and what looked like a second addition built from Hardie board. Someone was a gardener; the beds around the house were neatly maintained and mulched, with the shrubs cut back for winter, and a festive wreath decorated the door. A gaily painted wood Santa with a list of names had been placed lovingly in the front yard. I walked a little closer; it was Santa's "nice" list, and the names Chad, Randy, and Jenna had been hand-lettered at some point in the past. I knew about Randy and Jenna, but found myself wondering about Chad. Had the Stones had a third child? I made a mental note to ask Tobias.
As I walked toward the pond, I heard a thunk... but not from the direction of the house. It seemed to be coming from a building tucked into the trees behind the main house; it was a guesthouse, it looked like. As I watched, a woman with brown hair stepped out the front door and grabbed a pair of boots from the stoop before disappearing back inside. She didn't see me—at least I didn't think so—but I was pretty sure I recognized her.
Unless I was mistaken, it was Rhonda.
I waited a few minutes to see if she'd come out again, but the little guesthouse stayed silent. I was still ostensibly watching the geese paddle around the pond, dipping their bills into the water from time to time, when Tobias called me from the barn.
"I think we're done here," he said as I ambled back to where he and Jenna were standing.
"Is she going to be okay?"
"I think so," he said. "Just a round of antibiotics and some time off her feet and she should be back in business."
"Great," I said. "This really is a nice place. Do you stay in the guesthouse when you're here?" I asked Jenna.
"Nobody's stayed in that guesthouse for years," she answered quickly, turning away from the house.
"I noticed three names on Santa's 'nice' list," I pressed, although I knew I probably shouldn't. "I recognized you and Randy, but I didn't know you had another brother."
"I don't," she said, her face turning flat and hard. "Now, if you don't mind, I have chores to do. Thank you for coming out, Dr. Brandt."
"My pleasure," he said. "I'll call and check in a day or two, to see how she's doing. And again, I'm so sorry about Randy. If there's anything I can do, let me know."
"I will," she said briskly. "Thanks." Her tone was dismissive, so we walked to the truck. We said nothing until Tobias had backed out of his spot and was well down the driveway.
I glanced into the side-view mirror. Jenna was watching us, as if making sure we weren't going to double back.
"What was all that about?" Tobias asked.
"I think I saw Rhonda," I told him. "In the guesthouse."
"Why would she be here?"
"That's what I was hoping Jenna would tell us," I replied. "But either she doesn't know Rhonda's there, or she's hiding her."
"Are you sure it was Rhonda?"
"Not a hundred percent, but it sure looked like her." I sighed. "I'm sorry I made things awkward. I just have a feeling Jenna knows more about things than she's letting on."
"You mean about what happened to Randy?"
"Maybe," I said.
"She's a good candidate for a suspect, I'll give you that. And she sure didn't want to talk about that third name on the Christmas decoration."
"Did the Stones lose a child?"
"I don't know," Tobias replied. "I never asked. I'll bet Opal would know, though... or the county clerk."
"I think I'm going to look in to it," I told him. "I have a feeling there are some dark secrets in the Stone family... and that they could be linked with what happened to Randy."
"Nothing like a murder to brighten up the holidays, eh?" Tobias asked as he turned onto the highway.
"And don't forget missing persons," I added.
"Although if Rhonda is staying in the Stones' guesthouse, maybe she's not missing after all."
"Why would she be there, anyway? If Jenna does know about her, why would she let her stay there?"
"I don't know," Tobias said. "You're right, though; I think there's more going on."
"What do you know about Jenna?"
"She's been married to Simon for a few years; he does real estate stuff in Houston," he said. "They don't have kids; she's pretty serious about her job, from what I've gathered."
"But she wants to be involved in the ranch."
"I think it's about protecting her inheritance," he said. "And her brother not drinking away the profits. It's a pretty tight ship under William. I'm not sure Randy had what it takes to keep that going, from what we've heard about him."
"I wish we had a competent sheriff," I said.
"Speaking of competence, Rooster's in the hospital," Tobias informed me.
"What?"
"He shot himself in the foot with a rifle. Literally."
I know it was wrong, but I laughed out loud. "Are you sure his wife didn't do it?"
"No," he said, "but she did file for divorce."
"It's never a dull moment in Buttercup, is it?"
He laughed. "Unfortunately not."
Flora got to the Market well before I did. She was still wearing her bright red dress, but she had followed Opal's advice and toned down the lipstick.
"How can I help?" she asked as I lowered the tailgate on the truck. I hadn't had time to do as much prep work as I'd hoped; although I'd cut another batch of soap, I'd have to label them while we were tending the booth. I still had a good bit of mistletoe, though. Maybe I should give a sprig to Flora.
"If you'll just get everything set up, that would be great," I said. "I've got to get these labels on the soaps. I ran out of time today."
"Of course!" she said, darting a glance toward Gus's booth. I followed her gaze; Gus was staring back at her, a slightly goofy grin on his broad features. I almost asked her about her upcoming date, but before I could say anything, Molly hurried up to the stall. "Did you hear about Rooster?" she asked.
"Which part?" I replied.
"I guess you have heard, then."
"Is he going to be okay?"
"He's already out and on crutches," she told me. "But Lacey told him if he's so in love with his deer blind, he should stay there."
"Ouch," I said. "To both. Hey," I added in a quieter voice, "I know Alfie knows the Stones pretty well. What do you know about Jenna?"
"She's sharp," Molly acknowledged. "Her brother practically had to get a GED, but she was valedictorian. Got married a few years back and moved to Houston, but she comes home a lot." She paused. "I did hear something, though."
"What?"
"She and Simon weren't having luck having children. There was some talk of adoption not long ago, but I heard her daddy told her the ranch would only go to grandkids related by blood. I think they spent a bundle on IVF, but as far as I know, they haven't had any luck."
"That's hard," I said. I'd had friends in Houston who had experienced infertility. In a way, being unable to have a child was like a death in its own right. I'd never had a strong yen for offspring, but I sympathized with those who wanted children and couldn't have them.
"It just doesn't seem right," Molly said, echoing my thoughts, "that good people who want kids can't seem to get pregnant, and others end up with children they don't really want. You'd think God would do something about that, wouldn't you?"
"You'd think. Mysterious ways and all, I guess." But now I was thinking about the Stones. "Randy and Isabella didn't have kids, did they?"
"No," Molly said. "They'd only been married a year or so. Isabella wanted to wait, fr
om what I hear. I gather things were a little shaky financially."
"I kind of got that impression, too," I replied.
"Any word on Rhonda?" Molly asked.
"No," I said. "But between you and me, I could have sworn I saw her at the guesthouse at the Stones' place today. Jenna told me there was no one staying there."
"Weird," Molly said. "Jenna and Rhonda were never really friends. Why would she be hiding her?"
"And why would Rhonda need to hide?"
"Maybe letting her husband cool down a bit?" Molly suggested.
"Maybe," I said, but I wasn't convinced. "I'll have to swing by the hair place where she works. Even if she's not there, maybe someone will have some idea where to find her."
As I spoke, the lights strung throughout the Market lit up, and "Happy Holidays" started playing on the PA system.
"I'd better go help the seventh-graders get ready for the concert," Molly said. The Buttercup Middle School Choir was scheduled to perform at eight.
"Tell Ethan to break a leg for me. And if you hear anything else, let me know."
"Don't I always?" Molly said with a grin.
It was only after she left that I realized I'd forgotten to ask about the third name on the sign in front of the Stones' house. Next time I saw her, I told myself as I picked up another label.
The next twenty minutes were pretty much eaten up by soap labeling. By the time the first rush of shoppers appeared, eating candied almonds out of cones, sipping mulled wine or mead, and humming along to the Christmas carols wafting on the crisp December air, Flora and I had gotten the stall in decent shape.
"I just love this lavender soap," Flora said, taking a deep whiff of one of the creamy bars I had put out on display. "Have you thought about selling room sprays, or perfumes, or sachets? I'd love to put one of these in my lingerie drawer."
"I sold out of sachets, but the room spray is a good idea," I said. "I know Hill Country Lavender Farm sells oils, but I hadn't thought about a scented spray." It was definitely worth thinking about. A mix of lavender oil with grain alcohol or another carrier would make a great spritz for freshening rooms. I had some clove and orange oils back at the farm, too; I might experiment with a Christmas spray similar to the scents I used in my soaps.
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