I reaped one benefit of Fiona’s visit on Monday. I had to work at the library and Richard needed to spend the entire day at the theater, and since school was out for the holidays, having Fiona available to stay with Nicky and Ella was a boon. It meant I didn’t need to ask Aunt Lydia to babysit. Not that she minded watching the twins, but she’d already done so much after-school care over the last few months that I was happy she could take a break. Besides, I knew my aunt. She’d revel in the time to bake all the items she liked to give away as holiday gifts.
We received similar gifts at the library late Monday morning. One of our regular patrons, Mrs. Dinterman, brought in lemon pies as holiday gifts for me, Samantha, and Sunny. Sunny was off, and although I knew she was working at the library on Tuesday, our small break room refrigerator couldn’t accommodate a pie on top of everything else. Since I didn’t want a custard pie to sit out overnight, I decided to deliver it to Vista View over my lunch break.
I threw on a fleece jacket before heading out to my car. The weather had warmed to temperatures more typical of northern Virginia in December, so I didn’t have to bundle up in a hat or scarf, although I’d still pulled on some thin gloves. Setting the pie on the seat beside me, I drove out to the farm, taking care not to hit too many bumps and dips in Vista View’s gravel driveway.
I parked between Sunny’s iridescent Beetle and the battered silver compact car that I assumed belonged to Megan Campbell. Carrying the pie with both hands, I called out a loud “Hello” as I reached the front door.
Carol appeared, wiping her hands on her apron. “Hi, Amy. What have you got there?”
“A gift for Sunny from Mrs. Dinterman,” I said, striding into the house as Carol held the door open. “I didn’t want to leave it out all night, so I thought I’d better make a delivery over my lunch hour.”
“Thank you, dear. How sweet.” Carol took the pie out of my hands so I could peel off my gloves and jacket. I shoved the gloves into the pockets and draped the jacket over my arm. “But that probably means you’re not going to have time for lunch, so let me fix you a sandwich or something before you leave,” she called over her shoulder as I followed her into the kitchen.
Megan Campbell was standing over the chrome-edged yellow Formica table that filled the center of the room, packing plastic-wrapped sandwiches into a large brown paper bag. Worry lines fanned out from her taut lips as she looked up when we entered the room.
“Ms. Muir, whatever brings you here?” Megan’s tone was sharp as a stiletto. She stared at me with a wary expression.
“Just delivering a patron’s holiday gift to Sunny,” I said, hanging my jacket across the back of a kitchen chair. “Is she around?”
“She’s out checking on the chickens. We heard some squawking and were afraid something had gotten into the coop,” Carol replied before Megan could open her mouth. “She should be back any minute.”
“Are you having a picnic?” I asked Megan, figuring that if she could question me so abruptly, I could return the favor. “That’s brave of you. I know it’s gotten a little warmer, but I still don’t think I’d want to eat outside right now.”
“What? Oh, no, nothing like that.” She brushed back a coiled tendril of red-gold hair that had fallen across her brow. “I’m just getting some food together for a meeting EA is holding later today.”
It took me a moment to realize she was referencing Environmental Advocates. “Ah, I see. Some snacks for the group.”
“And water,” Megan said, shoving a few bottles into another bag. “It won’t be cold, but it will have to do.”
Carol slid the lemon pie into her white enameled refrigerator. “I’m sure no one will mind. As long as it’s wet, right?”
“That’s what I figured. Besides, our group isn’t picky about things like that.” Megan’s eyelids were lowered, making her eyes impossible to read, especially behind the round lenses of her glasses. “This will be fine, believe me.” She folded the top of each bag down and then snatched them both off the table, gripping one in each hand. “Thank you for the sandwich makings and all, Carol,” she said. “I probably won’t be back until late, so don’t wait dinner on me.”
She practically ran out of the room, giving me a barely perceptible head bob as acknowledgment as she dashed past me.
When the front door slammed, Carol placed her hands on her hips and shook her head. “That’s one peculiar young woman, I must say.”
“In what way?” I asked, after a quick glance at my watch. I didn’t want to be late returning to the library, but I was too curious to cut Carol short.
Carol opened the bread box on the counter and extracted two slices of marble rye. “I don’t know. She seems very nervy. I keep thinkin’ she’s going to flap her arms and squawk, like my chickens when a critter is circling the henhouse.”
Picturing this image, I laughed. “Maybe it’s her work. She appears to be extremely devoted to her organization. Things like Wendy Blackstone’s death throwing everything into question might be making her anxious.”
“Could be.” Carol pursed her lips. “But you’d think that would help her cause. It’ll be a while before everything is sorted out. Blackstone Properties isn’t going to be able to bring in their bulldozers anytime soon.”
“True.” I shifted my weight from foot to foot. “Do you have any other thoughts about Megan, Carol?”
“Other than the fact that she holes up in the guest room like a scared rabbit when she isn’t out meeting with her environmental group?” Carol pulled a plastic storage container from the refrigerator. “Egg salad okay?”
“Sounds good,” I said. “No, actually great. Your food is always delicious.”
Carol flashed me a smile. As she spread some of the egg salad on the bread, her expression grew less cheerful. “As for Megan, well, I don’t know. She just seems awfully anxious, which I wouldn’t expect from someone who’s trying to, you know, fight the power. Why do you ask?”
“I’m just trying to figure out if anyone associated with Environmental Advocates could’ve had a reason to harm Wendy Blackstone.”
“Like me?” Sunny waltzed into the room, pulling off her work gloves and tossing them onto the table.
“No, not like you,” I said with an exaggerated roll of my eyes. “This may come as a surprise, but not everything is about you, Sunshine Fields.”
Sunny responded to my teasing with her usual good humor. “Really? I had no idea. I thought the world revolved around my fine—”
“Sunny!” Carol interjected, before my friend could complete her comment.
“Anyway, what brings you here today, Amy? I thought you were working at the library all day.”
“I am,” I said, with another glance at my watch. “I need to leave soon so I can be back on time, but I wanted to bring you a gift that was dropped off at the library this morning.”
“Lemon pie,” Carol said, motioning toward the refrigerator. “Amy very kindly drove over here on her lunch hour so it wouldn’t be left sitting out overnight.”
Sunny pulled off her denim jacket. “From Mrs. Dinterman, I bet. She loves bringing us pies.”
“You’re correct,” I said. “Anyway, it was no problem to run it over here.”
Carol held up the sandwich she’d covered in plastic wrap. “I made Amy something she can eat in the car on the way back. Figured she might miss out on lunch otherwise.”
“Always worried about people going hungry.” Sunny draped her jacket over the back of a chair and crossed to Carol. She threw her arm around her grandmother’s shoulder. “Heaven forbid anyone leave this house without something to eat,” she added, giving me a wink.
“That’s country hospitality,” Carol said with an audible sniff. “And don’t you forget that, missy. When I’m long gone, it’ll be up to you to continue that tradition.”
Sunny’s golden eyelashes fluttered. I knew she hated any reminder of her grandparents’ mortality. They were all the family she’d ever had. Other than her found family that includes all of my relatives, Richard, and many other friends, I reminded myself. “I was asking Carol what she thought of your houseguest. Maybe I should ask you the same thing.”
“Still trying to get Brad to focus on someone other than Ethan?” Sunny slid her arm away from Carol’s shoulders and strolled over to the counter that held an electric kettle. “Have you heard anything from him yet?” she asked, flicking the switch to heat up the water already in the kettle.
“Unfortunately not. Scott is beside himself with worry.”
“I bet.” Sunny rummaged around in a basket that held a variety of tea bags. “I think something’s wrong there, to tell you the truth. Ethan would get in touch with Scott if he could. I’d put money on that.”
“I know. It has me worried too.” I gnawed the inside of my cheek for a second. “I’m actually worried that his cell phone broke or died or something and he’s stuck somewhere, needing our help.”
“I guess it’s good that the sheriff’s department is searching for him, then.” Carol plucked a mug from the dish drainer and slid it down the counter to Sunny. “I know you don’t want him arrested, Amy, but if he’s hurt or otherwise in trouble, it’s best that he be found.”
“I suppose,” I said, picking up the sandwich Carol had laid on the table. “I guess I should be running along. Thanks for this, Carol.” I slipped on my jacket and dropped the sandwich into one of its deep pockets.
“Thanks for bringing that pie,” Sunny said as she poured hot water into the mug. She appeared lost in thought as she dropped in a tea bag. “Before you go, Amy, there is one other thing. Maybe it’s nothing, but …”
I paused, my coat zipper halfway closed. “If it has any relevance to the Blackstone case, I want to hear it.”
“Maybe. It does involve a member of that family,” Sunny said.
Carol, who’d been looking puzzled, snapped her fingers. “Oh, you’re talking about that young man that stopped by to talk to Megan.”
“Dylan?” My watch warned that I was going to be late, but I decided I’d just have to send Samantha an apologetic text and make up the time another day. ”Wendy’s son?”
“That’s the fellow,” Carol said. “Seemed like a nice young man. Polite.”
“What did he want with Megan?” I asked, directing my words toward Sunny.
She tossed her head, flinging her long blonde braid behind one shoulder. “I didn’t catch all the details. They were talking in the living room, so I could only hear so much.” She flashed me a grin. “No matter how hard I tried to eavesdrop.”
“I couldn’t hear much either,” Carol said with a sly smile. “But when I took them in some mugs of coffee, well, I did pick up a few things. Mostly it seemed like the young man was sharing information about a few Blackstone Properties projects with Megan. She did seem very interested, for what that’s worth.”
“He mentioned two in particular,” Sunny said, plucking out the tea bag and tossing it into the sink. “Something called Mountainside Farms and another called Crystal Lake.”
“Two cases where the company ran into serious opposition or had other issues building out the developments.” Noting both Carol’s and Sunny’s interest, I added, “I came across that information when I was doing some research recently.” I didn’t mention Candy Jensen’s connection to Mountainside Farms, thinking that was something I needed to dig into a bit more before I shared any suspicions.
“So there may be any number of people with a grudge against Blackstone Properties?” Carol tugged up the drooping strap of the white cotton apron she wore over her tie-dyed T-shirt and jeans. “Seems to me that Brad Tucker and his crew ought to be looking into that, not just trying to pin the crime on Ethan.”
“Now, Grandma, I don’t think Brad is trying to pin anything on anyone.” Sunny’s spoon clanged against the sides of the mug as she vigorously stirred her tea.
“Humph. You know how these cops are,” Carol said, turning away to put the egg salad container back into the refrigerator.
I caught Sunny’s eye and raised my eyebrows. Carol and P.J. hadn’t totally lost the aversion to authority figures they’d developed back in their flower-children days. It was one reason they hadn’t been upset when Brad and Sunny broke up.
Although now she’s dating a private investigator, I thought. But that seemed to carry fewer negative connotations for the Fieldses, who’d said Fred wasn’t really part of the establishment. “He isn’t operating strictly by the rule book all the time,” was how P.J. had put it.
“Okay, I really must go,” I said. “But thanks for that info. It might come in handy.”
“Always happy to help.” Sunny raised her mug in a mock salute. “All for one and one for all and so on.”
“I’ll let you know if I ever need your good sword arm,” I said with a smile.
“Don’t laugh. I bet I could handle a sword pretty darn well,” Sunny replied.
“I bet you could too,” I called out as I left the room.