I wish I shared Caroline’s certainty. I’d seen people, desperate people, do things their friends and families would swear they’d never do. We’re all capable of anything when our backs are against the wall.
Caroline calmed as we returned to Udderly. To my surprise she went into Buzzy’s office. I followed.
“Riley, I feel better.” She sat down on Buzzy’s chair and burst into tears.
“I thought you said you felt better!” I rushed to her and put my arms around her.
“I do.” She sniffled. “I figured something out. Why I feel so bad about Mike. We were never close. Never. When I cry for Mike it’s like”—she groped for words—“I’m crying for what I didn’t have. I didn’t have a good relationship with him, no, honestly, I don’t know if I had any relationship with him. When I cry for Buzzy it’s because I miss her. I still love her. I don’t know if I ever loved Mike.”
She grabbed some tissues and stood. “Now I’m going to make ice cream. The sunflower blend should be ready for mix-ins.”
I took a deep breath. This was a lot of emotional truth for one day. I needed an ice cream cone.
As Caroline started working, I grabbed a waffle cone and stuffed it with cherry vanilla ice cream. Buzzy’s cherry vanilla used black cherries that she’d candied in sugar, lemon juice, and a touch of almond extract. I sprinkled slivered almonds on top and took a bite. Heaven. I sat at Buzzy’s desk in the office and gobbled it down.
Sitting at a desk made me think of my librarian job back in D.C. I loved my work but had been itching for a change. That’s why I’d taken on my undercover work and even after that, for several years, I’d spent more and more time wishing to travel. I weighed the commuting and stress of life in Washington, D.C., against the peaceful beauty of Penniman and the chance to spend more time with Dad. This was my chance to make a change—for good. I took a deep breath and called my supervisor at the library.
The conversation wasn’t comfortable, but we worked it out. She didn’t want to lose me, but I gave notice and asked her to send the paperwork. As I hung up, I felt lighter than I had in years.
Just then, I heard a harsh grinding noise. Caroline shouted, “Help!”
I darted into the workroom. In a repeat of yesterday’s disaster, ice cream mixture spilled from the machine as Caroline hit the unresponsive on/off button on the chute. I slung a tub toward her, then yanked the power cord.
“Thanks. Look, it’s not chilling properly either.” Caroline swirled the runny vanilla mixture in the tub.
“I hope it’s under warranty.” Back to the Rolodex, where I found the number for the ice cream supply company. They promised to send a repairman tomorrow between nine and five.
Thanks for narrowing that down. I bit my tongue. With four days until the festival, they’d better be able to fix the machine. Nothing I could do about it now. I had to focus on something I could control.
I remembered Buzzy’s note on the calendar. Darwin had promised baby goats for the petting pen on Sunday afternoon. I needed some animals for Saturday, the biggest day of the festival.
I flipped through the cards of Buzzy’s Rolodex and phoned Magic Minis. “I’d like to see if I can book some of your ponies for this Saturday afternoon, please?”
A woman’s voice rasped, “They’re not ponies. They’re miniature horses.”
“I stand corrected.”
“Hold please, I’ll check the schedule.” She put me on hold and came back a few seconds later. “Lady Mirabelle and Bob can squeeze you in from two to four in the afternoon.”
“Perfect.”
Good thing Lady Mirabelle and Bob could stay for only two hours because the price she quoted made my toes curl.
I remembered that Caroline had mentioned a Facebook page for the shop. I opened Buzzy’s laptop and realized I didn’t know her password. I flipped through the Rolodex. On a card labeled Password, I found “ABC123.” Good grief.
The shop’s social media needed updating. I found some photos of Lady Mirabelle and Bob and posted them to our page, and before I signed off had ten Likes.
I walked into the deep freezer to check inventory. We were low on so many flavors.
Everything would be okay if I could get the machine fixed on time … and if we made ice cream nonstop between now and the festival. I took a deep breath, the chilled air adding another uncomfortable jolt.
I needed more staff, especially staff that would work for free. Pru said interns from the farm would work the counter during the festival, but I didn’t trust them to make ice cream. Did I know someone who was a good cook and might work for free?
Paulette. My Stepford stepmother. I started to call her but considered. This favor was best asked in person, with my dad nearby. She’d say no to me, but not in front of Dad.
I told Caroline my plans to see Angelica and Paulette, then go to the land trust meeting. She nodded. “We’re fine here and don’t worry, I’ll go check on Rocky at dinnertime.”
I stepped outside into a warm, sunny, perfect afternoon. The parking lot was full. Cheerful crowds thronged rows of sunflowers taking pictures, enjoying the views across the rolling hills, and gathered around the farm stand where the interns sold organic herbs and vegetables.
As I headed up the hill I saw Flo at the stand buying a quart of tomatoes, and I hurried over to her.
“Flo, did the police question you about the night of Mike’s murder?”
“Yes, they came to the house. Donna’s too.” At my puzzled look, she said, “Donna Danforth.” Ah, yes, Dandy. “But none of us saw anything that night. We all go to bed early.”
“What about Aaron the Hermit?”
She shrugged. “Don’t see him much, only driving by or when he walks his dachshund, McGillicuddy. But we’d have heard if the police had arrested him.”
Pru waved me over to the kitchen garden.
“What is it, Pru?”
“Darwin’s back,” she whispered. “The police let him go.”
I gave her a hug. “I’m so glad. What happened?”
She turned worried eyes toward the red barn behind the house. “He wouldn’t say much. He’s fixing the tractor down in the barn.”
“I’m going to talk to him,” I said.
Just then my phone buzzed. Caroline. “I just heard that Darwin’s back. Is it true?”
“Yes, but—”
Caroline hung up, and moments later she ran from the shop. When she reached us, she was out of breath and holding her side.
Pru put a hand on Caroline’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Just out of shape.” Caroline dashed ahead. I ran after her and easily caught up. We stopped at the entrance to the barn where Darwin bent over a tractor engine.
Caroline caught her breath. “Darwin.”
Part of me wondered how truthful Darwin would be with Caroline.
His blue cotton shirt was open at the collar and he brushed sweat off his forehead as he faced us. “I guess you heard where I’ve been.”
I looked to Caroline, and she nodded. This was now about the two of them.
“Someone told the police that they’d seen me up at the Love Nest. It’s true. I—” He walked over to us, wiping his hands on a rag, his voice soft. “I’m sorry, Caroline, sorry I didn’t talk to you. I was so angry about Mike wanting to develop the farm.
“I swear I didn’t see Mike that night. I never opened the door to the Love Nest and I never went into the barn. But someone driving by saw me leaving.” He flung the rag to the ground and folded his arms. “I know how bad it makes me look.” His forearms bulged with muscle. I couldn’t help but flash to the pitchfork used to kill Mike, how easily I’d seen Darwin yield one, how strong farm work had made him.
“Do you remember the kind of car?” I said.
He shook his head and gave me a wry smile. “You sound like the cops, Riley.”
“I watch too many TV shows.” I tried to keep my tone light, but my mind reeled. Means. Motive. Opportunity. Darwin had all three.
My heart constricted as I considered all he had to lose: twenty years of work on the farm, twenty years building the internship program. Everything.
Something inside me shifted. Pru’s confusion and sadness were so palpable, so naked. They’d been married so long. If Darwin had killed Mike, would she cover for him?
“I believe you, Darwin. I know you’d never hurt Mike.” Caroline gave him a hug. Darwin’s face crumpled as he fought for control of his emotions. He patted Caroline’s back and managed to whisper, “Thank you, Caroline.”
I lowered my eyes, hoping they wouldn’t notice my apprehension. Caroline might’ve decided Darwin was innocent, but I was sure the police still considered him a suspect.