Dead 'N Breakfast

by Paulette Brewster

  “It looks as though the crowd is much smaller out there,” Polly remarked after going to the side door to look through the window. “There are still plenty of police vehicles parked out at the barn. Investigators I’m guessing.” Then she walked back to the table and sat down again.

  The silence in the room was heavy and palpable until Claire brought in her empty coffee mug and set it on the counter. “I’ll be staying for several more days since the detective asked me to hang around a while longer,” she said. “But if you’d rather be alone, I can find a room somewhere else. I don’t want to be a bother with all of this going on…”

  “You’re welcome to stay if you’d like. You aren’t a bother at all. But under these circumstances, I understand if you’d rather leave.” If the tables were turned, would she stay? No, not at all.

  “Well, since I’m already settled in and if you don’t mind, I think I’ll just stay here. It’s simpler that way.” She shrugged. “In a couple of days, I’m sure that I’ll be able to leave.”

  Liz nodded while her thoughts were going in a million different directions.

  “I think I’ll go for a drive and look for some quaint places to shop,” Claire said. “I’ll be back before you lock up.” She looped her purse over her shoulder and headed for the front door.

  This nightmare was nothing but a blip on her designer-clothes-shopping radar but that was fine with Liz. There were things she wanted to discuss with Polly but didn’t feel comfortable doing so with her guest in the house. Her first concern was getting some feed for the cow. It was Sunday and the feed store wouldn’t open till tomorrow. There was no way around it, she needed to get enough out of her barn to hold her over till the next evening. Polly had plenty of hay but no feed for a dairy cow. If they wouldn’t allow her in the barn then she’d just wait till they were gone for the night and slip inside. Surely, they wouldn’t spend day and night working in shifts to complete the task. Or would they? She wasn’t so sure about that.

  “That woman is heartless,” Polly said, then shook her head and frowned. “She could have at least offered to do something. Be some kind of a help.”

  “Really, it’s okay. I wouldn’t expect her to help do anything. I’m surprised she’s even staying.”

  “I am too.” Polly rose from her seat and headed to the fridge. “How about I whip up a sandwich for you? It’s long past lunch and I’m guessing you didn’t even eat breakfast.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I’m not a bit hungry. Honest.” Liz dumped her cold coffee down the sink. “When would be a good time to bring the cows down to your place?”

  “Any time you’d like.”

  Liz nodded. “Thanks, Polly. I appreciate your help with this. I’m thinking I’ll leave them in the pasture as long as I can and tomorrow after milking, I’ll bring them back so they won’t fill up your stalls with manure.”

  “If that’s what you want to do. It’s not that long a walk to go back and forth. Not much different than what the other dairy farmers around here do. And I’ll walk with you. Which reminds me, has Brian been here since… all this happened? I didn’t see him when I came in but maybe I just missed him.”

  She hadn’t even thought about him till now. “I haven’t seen anyone except the police and you and Claire.”

  “I think that’s odd,” Polly said. “It’s hard to imagine he wouldn’t know something’s going on down here. Everyone else in the neighboring area was in your front yard. At least it sure looked like it.”

  That wasn’t something she wanted to hear, not that the news of a murder wouldn’t travel far and wide before the end of the day.

  “Maybe he’s not home,” Liz replied. “Or he went back to work on the sugarhouse early this morning. That’s just a guess. I don’t know how he spends his day.”

  “Could be,” Polly said. “Well, is there anything I can do for you?”

  “No, I’m all right and keeping busy will help me focus on something else.”

  “Okay, I guess I’ll get back to my pickling jars. I’ve been cleaning up the pickle patch and this is the last of them. Give me a call when you’re ready to walk the cows down. And if there’s anything you need just call me.”

  When she was alone, Liz checked through the window of the kitchen door to see how many cars were parked out by the barn and along the roadside. Myrtie and Pearl were curious about all the coming in and going out of the barn doors. They probably felt safe in their pasture because they hung around the nearest gate and kept a close watch on the activities with their ears at attention. She didn’t like making changes to their routine. Myrtie didn’t handle change well and it reflected in the amount of milk she would give. But this was temporary and she’d be back to her usual routine in a few more days, Liz hoped.

  In the meantime, if she didn’t keep herself busy, she would go crazy. She had a guest room to clean and laundry to do, and while she was at it, she’d dust and vacuum. If there was enough time after that she’d tend to the flowers around the house, where she could easily watch everything going on at the barn.

  Upstairs, it felt odd to use a key to open the door to Claire’s room, but she was trying to get used to the idea that this wasn’t just her home as long as she had guests. She had to abide by the rules of privacy and expected the same in return. Each morning after barn chores, she took care of the linens and ran the sweeper as long as Claire wasn’t around. Surprisingly, the room needed very little upkeep unless the closet doors were open, and they were always open. The closet was large enough that it could have been made into a nice little reading nook, the only thing it needed was an overstuffed chair and a side table. But it couldn’t have looked worse if a cyclone had hit it, leaving clothes and shoes strewn from one end to the other on the floor. Apparently, Claire was used to being picked up after in her own home. Liz closed the double doors leaving the mess as it was because in her mind it was a privacy issue and she refused to touch any of it. On the bedside stand was a small catalog that she hadn’t seen on previous mornings. The cover was very eye catching with a model wearing designer clothing in seasonal fall colors. The name in bold letters at the top of the catalog stated, “CLAIRE’S DESIGNER BOUTIQUE.” Liz picked it up and flipped through the pages, stopping occasionally to check the prices which were certainly above what she’d be willing to pay. So, Claire owned a business and had an online presence too. Flipping to the inside first page, she found the website then, out of curiosity, made a mental note to look it up later.

  After hauling the bedding to the laundry room in the basement, she changed her mind about eating lunch and made herself a sandwich then brewed a cup of coffee. For the next fifteen minutes, she stared out the kitchen window toward the barn where plenty of activity was still going on. She sighed and turned her back, leaning against the counter while she finished her coffee. She mentally juggled her to-do list, sorting and shifting things from priority to not-very-important. At first, she considered baking her mom’s best blueberry muffins but that would require too much concentration, so she scratched that idea. Although, it did serve as a reminder that she needed to call her folks even though she dreaded it. Well, she would put it off till all the police work was done for the day. Hopefully, they’d be gone before milking time but if they weren’t, then she’d have to go to town in the morning for more feed and there was simply no choice about it. That would be Monday, she thought, frowning. Her mind was so rattled, whether from hitting her head or the terrible events going on, that she had to think for a moment what day of the week it was.

  Monday! She jerked to attention at the reminder. She was supposed to see Jenny about the job at the newspaper. The timing of everything couldn’t have been worse. Applying for a job while under the suspicion of murder didn’t make for a great resume. But she reminded herself that the detective hadn’t told her she was under suspicion, but neither had he said she wasn’t. Even Miles had stopped short of that. Nevertheless, she heard the implication and she knew things that they didn’t. Once mor
e she turned to stare out at the barn. More cars had arrived. She wiped down the counter and put her cup in the dishwasher then checked the time. Surely, they’d be gone by six o’clock, giving her a few hours to vacuum, dust downstairs and finish the laundry. But what she wanted, was to hang out with the cows and eavesdrop.

  Keeping her hands busy hadn’t distracted her thoughts. On the contrary, her mind was free to consider everything that had happened. She focused on the details of the murder while she worked, including what was happening in the barn since she’d found Kevin’s body. The most important question, besides who killed him, was what drew him to Maple Ridge in the first place. She didn’t believe for a moment that a little event in an unknown out of the way town had tempted him to leave the big city. And that story he gave her that he’d found a new job in Burlington was just that, a story. She didn’t believe him. His resume had to be worse than hers. At least she hadn’t turned a blind eye to the embezzling going on in the firm like he had. She felt sure he was only walking free because he’d had some high priced lawyers with connections. There was no doubt about that, even though she could never prove it. Still, showing up in Maple Ridge made no sense. Why would he even want to dredge up all that court business when he would only be hurting his reputation, what was left of it? There were so many questions and it seemed as though she was just going in a circle, getting nowhere.

  She pulled out the vacuum after dusting everything in sight, but even that noise couldn’t drown out her thoughts. He had threatened her which could only mean one thing, she was his target. But why? If he had a new job and hadn’t even spent one night in jail then he had no reason for blaming her. None of it added up. Especially when he was the one who ended up dead. The logic was nothing but a circle without a way of escape.

  When her housework was done and the laundry was folded, she searched out her gardening gloves. There was possibly only a couple of weeks before frost arrived but until then she didn’t want any weeds sneaking into her dad’s flower beds. And just to make sure the blossoms lasted as long as possible she intended to cover them before the frost arrived. The exterior of the house made the first impression and she wanted that to be good for as long as possible. And besides that, she liked the earthy smell while digging in the dirt with the warm sunshine on her back.

  As she moved around the perimeter of the house, the barn came into view and she stopped her work to study the busy-ness just outside the barn door where a group of uniformed men and women were clustered. Myrtie and Pearl had moved farther down the pasture, apparently already adjusting to the police presence, but she hadn’t adjusted to their presence and now wondered what that consultation was all about. They carried small bags to their vehicles and carefully stowed them inside. She had an insane urge to ask them questions about their findings but decided against it. She wished she could call Miles but the likelihood that he would know anything yet was very slim. Although, she didn’t rule out talking to him on her busy Monday when she went to town for feed and a stop at the newspaper office. She would put him last on her list in hopes he might learn something, anything, about the developments of the investigation.

  The days had been getting shorter and the evening dusk would set in before long. She checked her watch and thought about milking time wondering how much longer they would stay. Brushing the dirt and debris from her jeans, she pulled off her gloves and headed for the side porch. She’d have a quick sandwich while she waited, keeping an eye out for any sign of the police vehicles pulling out of the barn driveway. She had to get that feed one way or another.

  With some effort, she pushed aside the nagging thought, once again, that she’d better call her parents. Bad news can always wait, she told herself. Truthfully, she was trying to think of the best way to avoid their coming home immediately. She was determined to handle this on her own. They had already been through one ordeal of having to sit with her in the courtroom in New York and she didn’t want to put them through that again. Her anxiety level was already through the roof, just thinking about what might lie ahead but she was determined to get to the bottom of it all, even if she had to do her own digging. The reality of that thought hit her hard, knowing the detective didn’t know as much as she did at this point. She closed her eyes for a second, thinking that if her parents were there it would be doubly hard.

  Liz checked the clock on the wall. Almost milking time. She wanted to walk the cows to Polly’s before dusk set in and thankfully the remaining vehicles were leaving. She grabbed two fresh pails from her pantry, then watched through the window till the last car backed out and headed up the road. She hurried through the doorway and headed toward the barn at a run, then slipped under the yellow tape that warned her not to proceed any further. Then she slid the door open and crept in.

  The shadows had already gathered but she refused to turn on the light as she lifted the lids and filled both buckets, one for Myrtie and one for Pearl. In her guilty haste, she shoved the scoop deep into the barrel until she felt something hard, making her flinch. She knew there was nothing else inside the barrel. At least she certainly hadn’t put anything in it. With her hand still in the grain, she searched with her open palm until she found it, then gripped a narrow handle. Slowly, she pulled it out, all the while keeping her eyes averted from the place where Kevin’s body had been. There was very little light available for her to be able to see the details, but she was absolutely positive it was a butcher knife. She gasped as the realization hit her. There was no way in the world that she would ever bring a knife like that to the barn, let alone stash it in the feed. Someone had hidden it in there for a reason. Her hands began to shake as the realization hit her. This was the murder weapon and she’d just tampered with it. Instinctively, she thrust the knife back into the barrel, going deep inside just the way she’d found it. Obviously, the investigators hadn’t discovered it yet, but eventually, they would. Panic suddenly gripped her as she stared at her bare hands. Why hadn't she had sense enough to wear her gardening gloves! There was no time to bemoan what she'd done, so without wasting another second, she picked up the heavy buckets and stepped outside where she set them down to close the barn door. Leaning her forehead against the door for support, she tried to stop the shaking of her body.

  “You really shouldn’t be in the there.”

  Chapter Six

  Liz whirled around, putting her back to the barn while her heart jumped into overdrive. With her hand to her chest, she stared into the face of Brian Stanford as he lifted the yellow tape for her.

  “You scared the crap out of me!” she said, glaring at him. “Why did you sneak up on me like that?”

  “Come out of there.” He lifted the tape higher for her then reached for one bucket.

  She hesitated, then handed it to him while her heart slowed to a near normal beat. “I need cow feed,” she said, still trembling as she went under the tape and stood in front of him. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to help you walk the cows to Polly’s. She called and asked me if I would. I stopped at your house first but there was no answer.” He reached for the other bucket and she handed it to him that one too.

  “Wait. I forgot the lead rope.” She rushed back into the barn, snatched it off the nail and returned to the right side of the tape. “And don’t give me any lectures.”

  If he had one to give, he kept it to himself as he followed her to the pasture gate where both cows waited for her. After slipping the rope over Myrtie’s head, Pearl followed, just like Liz knew she would.

  “It’s serious business to cross that tape,” Brian said as he watched her lead them out of the pasture.

  “I’m sure it is. But I needed the grain. And I wasn’t trying to disturb anything or get caught.” And truly she hadn’t been trying to do any such thing, but a rise of guilt nearly choked her as she thought about the knife.

  “I mean serious, like jail time.” He walked beside her, keeping the buckets away from the cows.

  She turned to hi
m and studied his face. “You say that like you know something about it.”

  He didn’t respond but just kept walking. After a few minutes, he said, “I spoke with Miles earlier when he was getting ready to leave this morning. He told me as much as he could, not that it was a lot of detail.” He shook his head.

  “You were here this morning?” she asked, surprised.

  “For a little bit. There was a lot going on and I knew you had your hands full.”

  There was a chill in the air, making Liz tug her sweater closer with one hand. Myrtie was half leading her down the road as if she knew where they were going which of course she didn’t. She was a happy, contented cow who loved her home and never even attempted to escape or go visiting among the neighbors.

  “You’re right. I did and still do.” She cleared her throat. “You won’t tell Miles about the cow feed?” She didn’t think he would, but she wanted him to say it.

  “As long as nobody asks. I won’t volunteer it.”

  Liz relaxed a little. “Thanks,” she replied, her voice low.

  “But don’t do it again. Disturbing evidence…” he stopped there, leaving it unfinished.

  “I know.”

  She was well acquainted with the consequences of tampering with evidence in any form, not that she’d been on the receiving end of it. She hadn’t. Well, not until now. Months ago, she’d been the one to deliver the evidence against someone else and now she’d asked someone to withhold the truth. That made her swallow hard. She hadn’t meant to involve him, and that was unfair on her part, but neither had she invited him to show up.

  “So, what really brought you here this evening?” she asked. “We both know I’m capable of walking the cows alone.”