Monday was the start of tech week for the Folklore Suite, which meant, as I told Sunny, that I probably wouldn’t see Richard for more than ten minutes each morning.
Sunny, checking in some books, cast me an amused glance. “He does come home at night, I assume?”
“Well, sure. Although I’m often asleep before he gets back from rehearsals. It doesn’t help that he’s supervising the lighting as well as directing the show.”
“And dancing in it.” Sunny flipped her single braid behind her shoulders. “I swear, that man has more energy than I’ve ever even imagined having.”
Having known my vivacious friend for over twenty years, I could’ve challenged that statement, but I concentrated on checking a few new records in our online catalog instead. “Speaking of being busy—are you sure you don’t mind covering Samantha’s hours this week? I want to give her a break, since she’ll be ferrying Shay to and from a lot of rehearsals, with some running late into the night. But if you have a paper or project due for school …”
“It’s fine,” Sunny said, cutting me off with a wave of her hand. “I can always work on my coursework when it’s quiet here. As long as you don’t mind me using the circ computer for my online classes, that is.”
“No problem with that. I’ve also doubled up on the volunteers, which should help with any busy periods.” I straightened the flyers in a plastic holder on the desk.
“You aren’t working backstage after all? I remember you mentioning something about being asked to help out after Karla had to take over Meredith’s part in the production.”
“No, some of the dance moms volunteered. They’re going to take turns working backstage over the run of the production, so they can all see the show from the audience, of course, but said they thought I should have the opportunity to watch from the audience on opening night, which was really nice.” I handed Sunny an item from the book drop at the desk. “By the way, I’ve secured two tickets for you for Saturday night’s premiere performance. Will Fred will be in town? I hope so. Aunt Lydia said that Hugh was planning to accompany her.”
“Yeah, first real date in a while.” Sunny rolled her eyes. “I guess I’ll have to get all dolled up to celebrate the occasion.”
“I’m sure Fred will appreciate that,” I said with a smile.
“Oh, he likes me just as well in sweats.” Sunny gathered up her stack of books and turned to the book cart parked behind us. “Just so you know, we’re looking at houses together.”
I couldn’t see her face, which I suspected was her intention. “Really? To buy or to rent?”
“Buy, I think. No use throwing money away on a rental.” Sunny began arranging the books on the cart in call-number order. “Doesn’t mean we’re getting married, if that was your next question.”
I lifted my hands. “It wasn’t, but now that you’ve brought it up …”
Sunny looked over her shoulder. “Nope, no wedding. And I still don’t want to have kids either. If you can spread that news around so people stop asking, I’d definitely appreciate it.”
“You know that won’t do any good. They’re always going to pester you about that sort of thing. But I will mention it to Zelda, which should be enough to relay your message far and wide.”
As she turned to face me, Sunny’s serious expression morphed into a grin. “Perfect way to make any news go viral,” she said. “Now, tell me more about this garden party you crashed yesterday. Was Lydia upset over having to leave early?”
“Speaking of news traveling fast—no, not really. She was actually the one to suggest it. And once I explained why I was snooping in the library, which I’m sure you also heard about, she was okay with that too. Except for worrying about me possibly placing myself in danger, of course.”
“That concerns me as well.” Sunny narrowed her eyes. “You’ve shared your suspicions about both Glenda and Oliver Lance, who were at the party. As well as Nate Broyhill, who could certainly have heard about your antics from the others. If any of them actually killed Meredith, you could’ve just painted a bright red target on your back.”
“I don’t know—none of them strike me as the impetuous or foolish type. With most of the attention focused on Conner Vogler, whoever murdered Meredith has escaped detection so far. Would they really risk exposing themselves by harming me?” I shrugged. “I know I’ve been warned off, but the authorities haven’t been able to identify that person yet either. The phone message was untraceable. As careful as the culprit’s been, I just don’t think they’ll take impulsive action at this point.”
“I hope you’re right.” Sunny examined me, frown lines bracketing her mouth. “You look really tired. Are you feeling okay?”
“Gee, do I look that bad?” I made a comical face. When Sunny didn’t smile in response, I laid a hand on her forearm. “I’m fine. There’s just been a lot going on recently, and I’ve had some trouble turning off my brain at night, so I’ve been sleeping rather fitfully.”
“Okay. I’m just glad you don’t have to take on that backstage work this week. At least you can rest after work, even if you aren’t sleeping so great.”
“And thankfully, the parents of the dancers from Karla’s studio have arranged a reception following the Sunday afternoon performance, so I don’t have to deal with that either.” I rubbed a flyaway strand of my dark hair between my fingers. “Normally we’d have some sort of afterparty Saturday evening, but Richard and Karla thought Sunday afternoon would work better since they have younger performers in the cast.”
“I bet Richard will appreciate just being able to go home Saturday night. Karla too.”
“Absolutely. I’m sure they’ll both be exhausted once the show is over on Saturday.” A bang like an elbow hitting glass made me glance over at the lobby doors. “Oh, it’s Monica Payne. She promised to stop by today, although she never said when.”
“Do you need me to disappear?” Sunny asked as Ethan Payne’s sister paused just beyond the doors and allowed her gaze to sweep over the library. Dressed in tan jodhpurs and a navy polo shirt emblazoned with some sort of logo, as well as ankle-high riding boots, Monica looked like she’d just strolled out of the stables.
“Thanks, it might help if I can speak with her alone. But I’d like you to meet her, so stay long enough to be introduced. She might end up being part of my extended family one of these days.”
“Ah, Ethan and Scott.” Sunny shared a knowing look with me as Monica strode toward the desk. “Gotcha.”
“Hello, Monica,” I said as the tall young woman reached the desk. “I’m glad you could stop by.” I introduced her and Sunny before adding, “I hope I’m not interfering with your work schedule.”
Monica tucked the lock of honey-brown hair that had escaped her loose bun behind her ear. “It’s fine. One of my riders didn’t show up for her lesson, so I thought I’d take the opportunity to talk to you, sooner rather than later.”
“It was nice to meet you, Monica, but I need to head out into the stacks to reshelve these books.” Sunny rolled the book cart out from behind the desk.
“I’ve seen her somewhere before,” Monica said as she watched Sunny disappear into the stacks. “Something connected with fruit and vegetables, somehow.”
“Maybe you’ve visited Vista View, her grandparents’ organic farm, or seen their booth at the farmers’ market?”
“That’s it,” Monica said with a snap of her fingers. “She was manning their booth at the market one Saturday. I remember because she suggested that I try a new variety of apple, and I ended up really liking it.” Monica switched her focus back on me. “Anyway, you said you wanted to share some information?”
“And see what you make of it.” I leaned over the desk, resting my forearms on the worn surface. “It’s related to the time you worked for Oliver Lance. Sorry to bring up a sensitive topic, but you told me that those horses you okayed as boarders were cleared by a vet, right?”
“That’s right.” Monica looked puzzled. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Do you remember which vet?”
“Sure, it was Mitchell Smithy. He took care of all of the horses at Blue Haven Farm. At least, he did when I was working there.”
“Then why didn’t he sign the death certificates for the horses that died from the influenza?” I asked.
Monica took a step back. “What? I assumed he did.”
“Nope.” I slipped my cell phone out of my pocket and turned it on. “I was at Blue Haven yesterday, in the library …” Noticing Monica’s confusion, I clarified my actions. “Okay, so I was there with my aunt and her friend for a garden club event. But what I really wanted to do was see if I could gather any more information on the Meredith Fox case. I know that sounds strange …” The arch of Monica’s eyebrows confirmed this, but I forged ahead. “Oliver was there and we got to talking, and he invited me to check out their family library.”
Monica’s eyes widened. “Really? Was it sort of a ‘let me show you my etchings’ type of invitation?”
“No, it wasn’t anything like that. At least, not on my part. Anyway, while we were in the library he was called away, and I noticed a couple of those ledgers you’d mentioned. So I … opened up one of them that was labeled with dates from about four years ago.”
“You found the entries for the horses who died?” Monica, who’d inched her way closer to the desk, leaned forward until we were almost nose to nose.
“I did. There was a column for notes associated with each entry.” I swiped to the proper photo.
Monica nodded. “A lot of times that was used for notes from the seller or buyer, or the vet, depending on the situation.”
“Well, in this case it was the vet, documenting the cause of death. Only it wasn’t Dr. Smithy. See?” I handed her the phone.
Monica peered at the photo, her eyes narrowing. “Winston Duran,” she said in a low voice.
“Do you know him?” I asked.
“Never heard of him,” she replied, thrusting the phone back at me without meeting my eyes.
That was odd. Monica had composed her expression by the time she finally looked up at me, but I could’ve sworn I’d seen a flash of anger in her eyes. “Funny thing is, he was quoted in some article I read about the outbreak of equine influenza at Blue Haven Farm. It was in the archives.” Noticing Monica’s confusion, I added, “We maintain historical papers, town records, old newspaper clippings, and other materials in a building out back.”
“I see.” Monica took a deep breath before speaking again. “Sorry, that name rings no bells, and I know all of the big animal vets with practices in this area.” Straightening, she met my inquisitive stare with a lift of her chin. “But maybe Dr. Smithy wasn’t available, and Oliver just called in someone he knew from the show circuit.”
I studied her face for a moment, observing the tightness of her square jaw and the slight flutter of her eyelids. It feels like she’s lying, but why? “The thing is, I actually spoke with Dr. Smithy’s daughter yesterday at the garden party. She said that when the horses got sick, her dad was ready to attend to them, but Oliver told him his services weren’t needed.” I lifted my hands in a questioning gesture. “It just seems odd, and I thought maybe you could explain why Oliver might do something like that.”
“I have no idea. Like I said, I wasn’t even in town when the horses fell ill. I just assumed that Dr. Smithy had handled the case.” Monica bit her lip, as if holding back a curse word or perhaps a sob. “Honestly, I was so devastated by the whole situation I never read that article—or any other reports, for that matter.” Monica’s lips trembled. “I mean, I came back to work, and two of our best animals were dead, and then Oliver says it’s mostly my fault and fires me.”
“I know it had to be devastating,” I said, reminding myself that Oliver had given Monica a good reference despite firing her. Another peculiar aspect of a situation that frankly didn’t make much sense.
“I did land on my feet, though.” Monica pressed two fingers over the symbol on her shirt, which I realized was the logo for Brentwood Farms. “I’ve got an excellent job now. So no hard feelings, I guess.”
Pursing my lips, I swallowed back a comment concerning Oliver Lance lying to her about the horses who’d died. Or, at a minimum, not telling her about some new vet he’d brought in to replace the man she’d relied on. “Still, it’s a little odd, don’t you think? I mean, this Dr. Duran just appearing out of nowhere and then apparently disappearing again.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” There was a forced lightness in Monica’s voice that made my shoulders tighten. “Oliver would’ve known a lot of people from his travels on the show circuit. I’m thinking maybe this new vet was just someone he felt he could call on for a serious emergency.”
“As opposed to the vet his family had used for years?” I closed my lips over my next words, realizing there was no point in badgering Monica any further. “Anyway, I wanted you to know what I’d found out, but as you’ve said, you really don’t know anything more about the situation. So we can let that go.”
“I think that’s best,” Monica said, the tension draining from her face. “I’m glad you shared that photo with me, though. If nothing else, it makes me feel better about working with Dr. Smithy in the future. I’ve been hesitant to recommend him to my current employers, but I’m not too fond of the practice we’re using now, so maybe we should give him a chance.”
“Happy I could help,” I said, even though I wasn’t entirely sure that I was pleased with Monica’s reaction to my information. She’d put on a good show of not being upset by the reveal of the mysterious vet and Oliver’s obvious obfuscation of the truth surrounding the deaths of the horses, but I sensed something off about her response.
Like she’s pretending everything is fine, when she’s actually angry enough to spit tacks, I thought as Sunny reappeared, pushing the cart back toward the desk.
“Did you get everything sorted?” Sunny asked brightly.
“I think so.” I studied Monica’s calm face. “We just shared information and clarified a few facts.”
“Yes, it was quite illuminating.” Monica flashed a broad smile. “But I’d better go. I don’t want to be late for my next lesson. Hope to see you both around,” she added, as she left the desk.
Watching her leave, worry lines crinkled Sunny’s forehead. “What in the world did you tell her? She was practically vibrating with energy, like she might explode at any second.”
“I’m not really sure. But whatever it was, it was too much, I’m afraid,” I said.