The afternoon was, thankfully, uneventful. Santiago got everyone’s statements, wrote up his report, and then invited the local reporter to come over and get an exclusive about Leo Farrow’s death. He was forthright with the facts about Farrow’s behavior, but he also didn’t disparage the dead. His most important intention in the interview was to make it clear that given that Eleanor Farrow had acted in self-defense, she would not, by today’s standards, be charged with murder.
The commonwealth’s attorney had already sent the reporter a written statement corroborating that fact and also establishing that the statute of limitations for unlawful disposal of a body – the crime which Ace and Melvin would have been charged with – was long past, so no charges would be pressed in the case of Leo Farrow’s death.
The only thing I still couldn’t figure out was why Summer had gotten so squirrely. Santiago had called her to ask her to come in and make a formal statement for the file, but she had flat out refused. Said she wanted nothing further to do with this case or with me. Someday, I was going to look into that, but today, I had enough to manage.
Lucille and Dad had joined Mika, Sawyer, Savannah, and me at Mika’s shop so that we could all be together and prep for my grand opening. For a fleeting moment, I had thought about postponing the opening, but given all the advertising I’d done, the fact that most everything was in place already, and the fact that I thought we could all use the distraction, I kept to my original plan and let Lucille do her thing and build the day into a baked-good-infused celebration.
By the time Santiago came to pick up Sawyer and me, Lucille already had plans to make rugelach, orange pound cake, fudge, and no-bake cookies to give out to customers. In between helping customers, Mrs. Stephenson had suggested she bring over some sweet tea and 7UP punch, and Dad had decided – in a fit of strange relief, I suppose – to get out an old gorilla suit he had used for Halloween when I was a kid and stand by the road, waving to get people’s attention.
Now my grand opening was beginning to resemble a fall festival mixed with a tax service ad campaign, and I was thrilled. I couldn’t quite get the image of the car charging toward my little boy out of my head, but the plans were helping distract me. For that, I was grateful.
Still, when Santiago got Sawyer buckled into his seat, and I buckled into mine, I sort of caved in a little. The stress of the past few days was weighing heavy on me, and I couldn’t begin to be more thankful that Santiago was coming home with us. Dad and Lucille and Mika had all offered to come over and help with any last minute prep, but I honestly couldn’t think of anything that needed to be done. Plus, I really just wanted a quiet night with my two guys.
When we got home, I made us scrambled egg sandwiches while Santiago and Sawyer built an epic sandcastle in the bottom part of the playground tower. Then, after we ate, we all jogged around in the yard chasing Beauregard for a bit because he had stolen Saw’s stuffed crow and was carrying it around like he was a prime hunter.
All four of us, apparently, enjoyed the game because when Sawyer finally managed to grab Beau and extricate the bird from his mouth, the cat settled into Sawyer’s arms and began to purr. Then, when it was time for bed after a bath, the boy, the bird, and the Beau all climbed under the covers and were asleep almost instantly. At least I thought the crow was asleep.
Back downstairs, Santiago and I each had a beer, and I turned on my newest favorite show, Mythic Quest. I just loved the quirky writing and the strange characters, and a video game production studio was so far from my life in every way that it was the perfect escape.
Unfortunately, I was sound asleep with my head in Santiago’s lap midway through the first episode, but when he helped me climb the stairs, waited outside while I changed into my pj’s, and then came to tuck me into bed, I felt like maybe I might just doze off on the couch more often.
The next morning, I woke at five a.m., the excitement of opening my very own store so big in my mind that I couldn’t get back to sleep. I slid out of bed, being sure not to even shift Sawyer’s tiny body beside me, and slipped down the stairs past where I could hear Santiago snoring in Sawyer’s room. Only Beauregard stirred and padded down the stairs after me. I guess he’d had enough being snuggled by a toddler for a while.
In the kitchen, I ground enough coffee beans for two French presses full, and I lined up a tray of cheese toast to slip in when I heard the guys stirring upstairs. Then, mug of coffee in hand, I slipped out into the dawn morning and took a deep breath. It was still pretty humid out, but I could feel the first hints of crispness in the air. Autumn would be here soon, and I was going to treasure every last hot day because it meant I’d appreciate the cool ones even more when they came.
Down the hill a bit, I could hear a woodpecker tapping away, and back behind the house, a barn owl cried. It was the cusp between night and day, and somehow, it felt perfect to be out in it on this hugely important day in my life.
Still, I couldn’t shake the memory of that car careening toward Sawyer, and I wondered what Savannah had found about the plate. I hadn’t asked yesterday because I knew that she and Santiago had the situation in hand, and I’d wanted to shift my focus away from the case and toward my grand opening. But now, here in the dark quiet of dawn, I was curious.
I needed to focus, though, so I pushed the image out of my mind and, instead, envisioned a crowd of people around my little store-shed talking and browsing and munching on Lucille’s baked goods. It was an image that kept me smiling and dreaming until I heard the reverberation of little footfalls through the walls of the house and headed in to greet my little boy.
I definitely wanted Sawyer to be a part of the grand opening, but I knew he wouldn’t tolerate a whole day of hanging out at the shop. His dad was coming to get him at noon so they could spend a little extra time together, and I could focus on my shop during the hours when things would probably be the most busy in the afternoon.
When Santiago, Sawyer, and I pulled up to the lot, I laughed out loud. Saul and his crew had decorated all their heavy equipment with lights and mums and then parked them along the street so that everyone driving by would definitely see that something big was going on. As I got out of the car, I saw Dad and Lucille, Mika, Savannah, and every member of Saul’s crew, including Saul, moving around the lot to water plants, pull reappearing weeds, and tidy up any random corner of mess. It was so unexpected and so very beautiful.
At the shop itself, everything was open, the coffee was brewing, and Lucille had set up a beautiful display of baked goods with a sign that said, “In Appreciation of Our Customers.” It was a brilliant idea because we all know that sometimes when someone gives you something for free, you’re more inclined to spend. Plus, I really did want to show appreciation to anyone who came by.
The opening was set to begin at ten a.m., but at just before nine, the first customers starting coming in, lured – I imagined – by the glowing backhoes and dump trucks. Soon, the crowd was substantial, and it seemed like the more cars were in the lot, the more came. Word was definitely spreading, and when the local news van showed up to ask if they could interview me for a piece on the midday show, I was thrilled.
I did the brief interview and told them to film anything they wished. Then, I spent the rest of the morning greeting customers, answering questions about my merchandise, and giving out my card to people who were considering bringing me in for a salvage job. When Sawyer’s dad arrived at noon, I barely had time to give my boy a big hug, fill his dad in on the car incident from the day before, and promise to keep him posted on the investigation. He was far from thrilled with the situation, of course, but he seemed to understand that I was pretty shaken, too – and that might have been the best I could hope for, given the circumstances.
The afternoon was even busier than the morning, and by four o’clock, the entire lot was filled with cars, some with out-of-state plates, and somehow, Saul had even brought in a local band to play from the back of one of the trucks. My grand opening had become a county event, and I loved it.
I loved, even more, that people were buying things. Bottles were selling, and a couple had bought a lovely set of old doors that I’d pulled from the parish house at Bethel Church. Mika’s knitted goods were moving, too, and Dad spent considerable time talking with one man about Ace’s old plow.
The plan had been to shut everything up at five p.m. so that we could prepare for the next day’s sales, but the crowd was still flowing in at four forty-five. Saul suggested we stay open until seven and see how it went. I agreed, given that word of mouth was the best advertisement in these parts, and there were a lot of mouths here.
Sales kept coming, and people kept eating Lucille’s baked goods. On Mika’s suggestion, she’d put out a tip jar, and with the proceeds she collected there, she promised to make me a whole new set of deliciousness for the next day. I wondered if this event might be just the way to get Lucille to start that baking business she was always half-joking about.
Santiago and Savannah stayed low-key for the day. Savannah was in uniform, since she was technically on duty, but she mostly hung out by her cruiser and just kept a steady presence. Santiago, however, patrolled regularly, looking, I expected, for the person who had tried to kill my son.
We still hadn’t talked about who that might be because there hadn’t been a chance to do so. I had thought about asking Santiago when I got a chance, but I figured it was better I keep my focus on my store and let him do the police stuff. I had no doubt he was almost as eager as I was to find the person who had tried to hurt Saw.
When seven p.m. rolled around, the crowd had begun to thin. Just a few cars were left in the lot, and most people had begun to head home as the sun dipped into the trees. That was just as well since Saul’s lot was not lit, and none of us wanted the liability if someone got hurt in the dark.
When the last of the customers had pulled out, Saul and his crew, who had stayed all day to support me, began to help us pack up the things that needed to be moved into my shop. We had decided to leave the lights on to draw people in for tomorrow, and Saul hoped that the extra light would help deter anyone from trying to sneak in. Just for the sake of security, though, he was going to install an extra lock on the gate to accompany the “This Property Is Under Video Surveillance” signs he’d hung on the fence throughout the day. We both knew that more attention meant more of the unwanted kind, too.
Everyone but Santiago and I headed out for the night, and while some of Saul’s crew said they’d come back to help tomorrow, I made them promise to enjoy their weekend and stay home. They had already done so much for me, Saul especially, and I didn’t want them feeling beholden to me or my business. From the half-hearted nods they gave me, I expected I’d see some of them tomorrow anyway.
As Santiago and I locked up, I took a minute to stand back and look at my shop. It was glowing in the light of the Edison bulbs, and I could see the shimmer of the items inside reflecting through the windows. It was beautiful.
Santiago slid up next to me and pulled me into his side. “This is amazing, Pais,” he said quietly.
“Isn’t it, though?” I whispered before turning to him. “Thank you for all your help.”
He leaned forward and kissed me, and then he took a step back and knelt down. I stared at him for a second, but then the sound of car tires on the gravel grabbed my attention.
I looked up just in time to see headlights barreling toward us. I dove for Santiago, and we rolled out of the way and into the shadow of my shop just before the car reached us. I had barely taken a breath when Santiago whispered, “Stay in the shadows and close to the building.”
He had his phone out and said, “Savannah, she’s here. She must have given you the slip. Send backup.” As he and I crawled toward the door of my shop, I heard the engine rev behind the building. The car was coming to take another pass.
I scrambled up onto the porch as I tried to fumble the keys from my pocket. The headlights started to come around the corner, and both Santiago and I dove to the other side of the porch away from the lights. The beams skimmed up the side of the building as the car took the corner toward us. I shimmied my way under the porch and felt Santiago slide in beside me as the car came around past where we’d both been lying.
“Now what?” I shouted as the tires skidded on the gravel in another circle around the building.
“Now we stay put,” Santiago said.
I groaned as I tried to take a full breath and felt the braces of the porch press against my back. I had a fleeting image of a hound dog under a log cabin.
“Savannah will be here shortly, and I expect she’ll bring the cavalry.” Santiago wiggled closer to me and pressed his hand down on mine.
Just then, I heard the door of a car close, and then a voice that felt a little familiar sang, “I know you’re here, Paisley Sutton. Don’t think my car is the only way I can get rid of you.”
I felt Santiago’s hand slide down to his gun, and I felt comforted that he was with me. But I didn’t want him to do anything sudden, especially since it seemed like maybe the driver didn’t know where we were.
“You just don’t have the loyalty to family that I do. Do you? You keep riling things up in some quest for the truth. When really the only thing that matters is that we take care of our own.” I could hear her footsteps getting closer as she came up along the side of my shop.
“My uncle didn’t deserve this, Paisley. He didn’t deserve to have his name dragged through the mud by the likes of you. He was a good man, a man who tried to help, and you couldn’t let it rest.” Her footfalls sounded heavy now on the porch above us. The doorknob of the shop rattled, and as she stepped closer, I thought I saw her lean in and look through the windows.
“But since you couldn’t leave well enough alone, I’m just going to have to shut you up. Shouldn’t be hard once you’re dead to convince everyone that you just brought up this story to get attention for your business.” She stepped back off the porch, and I could have reached out and touched the back of her booties.
“Good thing” – she dropped to her knees and shone the flashlight in my eyes – “that I found you, then.” California Davis-Baca reached under the porch and grabbed me by the hand as she tried to tug me out from where I was wedged.
I stuck my left hand up against the braces and pulled back. She might dislocate my elbow, but I was not going to let her get me out in the open where she could kill me more easily.
She had managed to drag me a couple of feet forward since she had the leverage of her legs, and I only had one twisted arm flung up above me. My head was almost to the edge of the porch, and I was ready to fling my free arm over my face to protect myself. But then, California tumbled away from me across the yard.
“Stay where you are, Pais,” Santiago said, somehow above me. He jumped off the porch and grabbed California’s arms before handcuffing her wrists behind her back and standing her up. “Okay, now you can come out.”
“Um, no I can’t,” I said as I realized that I was wholly and completely stuck under the porch of my own salvage store. “I’m going to need some help.”
A few moments later, Savannah, Saul, and three members of his crew pulled up like the cavalry Santiago had claimed, and everyone worked together to lift my shop just a couple of inches so I could shimmy out. It wasn’t my most graceful moment, but I was very grateful.
As Savannah drove California Davis-Baca off in her cruiser, I plopped down on the porch of my store. “Well, that was unexpected,” I said to everyone gathered around me. “What in the world was she upset with me about?”
“I expect we’ll find out, but we’ve known since this afternoon that she was the one who tried to kill Sawyer. Savannah had her under surveillance, but California gave her the slip a bit ago. That’s when she came here.” Santiago sat down next to me. “Sorry, Paisley.”
I shook my head. “We caught her. That’s all that matters, and she made some really incriminating statements in your presence, so that’s good, right?”
“That is good,” Santiago said, “but given our relationship, I’m probably going to need more than just my word and yours.”
“Fortunately, I learned a trick or two from Mika.” I held up my phone and flipped to the voice recording I had turned on as soon as I heard the car door. “Will this help?” I pressed play, and California’s voice was clear as a bell.
Santiago kissed my cheek. “Of course it will. Good thinking.” He helped me to my feet. “Now, let’s get you home to bed.”
I nodded. “Okay. I want to call Sawyer on the way home,” I said.
“Okay, then let me do this.” Savannah spit on her fingers and then proceeded to clean all the dirt off my face. “Now Mama doesn’t look like she was mud wrestling.”
I chuckled. “Thanks.”
The next day, California Davis-Baca was charged with the murder of Melvin Smith. She had apparently poisoned his coffee at his store just before he came over to my house the day he died, and the timing just happened to work out to look like he’d been poisoned by someone at my place. A closer examination, though, revealed he had ingested the poison earlier, and two of his employees at the restaurant testified to seeing California around his car at just about the perfect time in the poisoning timeline.
It turned out that she was worried that Melvin, Ace, Homer, my dad, and I would eventually throw her Uncle Stephen under the bus since he had already died. She didn’t want her family’s name tainted that way and had been looking for opportunities to get her revenge on all of us. Savannah filled us in the next morning, but so far, only Melvin had been an easy target. The rest of us were harder to reach, and so she’d decided to start with me since if she killed me, the investigation might not go anywhere at all.
I sighed as Savannah and I sipped our coffee on my shop porch and watched the early-bird customers browse around. “How in the world she thought she was going to pull that off and not get caught, I have no idea,” Savannah said.
“Well, Eleanor Farrow’s family and friends protected her for eighty years. I guess it is possible,” I answered as I watched a little girl choose a small stained glass piece from a display I’d put out this morning.
“Yes, but everyone liked Eleanor Farrow. Everyone knew her story. No one had even known California Davis-Baca existed until she turned up here.” Savannah sighed. “We joke a lot about newcomers and such here, but we take care of our own.”
I nodded and looked around at the growing crowd. Yes, yes we do, I thought as I got up to ring up the little girl with the stained glass and her dad with five blue bottles for his new bottle tree in his garden. Yes we do.