I was sound asleep by the time Richard came home Friday night, yet he was still awake before me on Saturday morning. After a quick shower, I headed downstairs, confident the cats had already been fed since they weren’t yowling or dogging my steps.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Richard called out from the table as I shuffled into the kitchen. “Cats have been foddered and are now on the back porch, coffee’s on, and we have blueberry muffins.” He held up the basket. “Lydia dropped them off earlier.”
“That’s good, because I sure didn’t feel like making anything.” I eyed the coffee maker, knowing I should probably start cutting back on caffeine. I’d have to buy some decaf on my next shopping trip. For now, I’d stick with half a cup.
“Lydia always seems to know when we need something,” Richard said, taking a bite out of a muffin.
“She probably figured you’d appreciate it, what with the premiere of the Folklore Suite tonight.” I sat down across from Richard, cradling my half-empty mug between my hands. “Speaking of which, how did the dress rehearsal go?”
“Terrible,” Richard said cheerfully. He grinned when I cast him a concerned look. “But that’s okay. Bad dress rehearsal, good performance. It’s one of those theater traditions.”
I reached for a muffin. “I’m sure it wasn’t actually terrible.”
“No, just chaotic.” Richard shrugged. “Things went wrong, but we were able to fix them last night, so everything should go off smoothly tonight. Besides, I don’t expect perfection when working with kids. And that’s okay.”
A piece of muffin poised halfway between my plate and my mouth, I was on the brink of saying something about having a child of his own when my cell phone dinged. Since that sound indicated it was a text instead of a call, I ate the bite of muffin before sliding the phone from the pocket of my loose cotton slacks.
“Anyway, Karla is feeling confident about everything, so I suppose I should too,” Richard said as I read the text.
“Of course you should,” I said absently, my thoughts distracted by the message I’d just received. “Sorry,” I added, looking up, “but Ethan’s sister finally contacted me. Remember, I told you that she’s been incommunicado for a bit, and Ethan’s been worried.”
“Oh, right. What does she have to say?”
“She needs a favor.” I sent back a short text before setting my phone down on the table. “Apparently her car broke down, and she needs someone to pick her up and drive her back to her apartment.”
Richard rose to his feet. “Why’d she call you?”
“I’m not sure, but I’d bet it’s because we’ve been in communication recently. And Ethan is working at the fire station today. You know he can’t get away when he’s on call.”
“So you’re going to rescue her?” Richard, pouring more coffee into his mug, glanced at me over his shoulder.
“I told her I would. I mean, there’s plenty of time before I have to get ready for the show.”
“Where is she?” Richard asked as he crossed back to the table. “I could come with you, if you want.”
“Oh no, you should just stay here and rest. You have the performance tonight, after all.”
“Yeah, and taking a little drive this morning will help keep my mind off that.” Richard set down his mug. “I am anxious, if you must know. I realize I’ve had innumerable opening nights for my choreographic works, as well as when I’ve been a performer. But I always get nervous. It’s just a hazard of the trade.”
“Well, it is a bit of a drive. Monica said she’s at Blue Haven Farm, which is on the other side of Smithsburg.”
“The Lance place? What’s she doing there?”
“I really don’t know,” I said, although I had a pretty good idea. But I didn’t want to add to Richard’s anxiety by talking about how I may have inspired Monica to confront Oliver Lance over her firing. I was concerned that the encounter might lead to an argument but didn’t think it would escalate into anything too serious. Or at least I hoped not. At any rate, it seemed like a good idea to get Monica away from the farm as soon as possible.
“I still don’t mind accompanying you. For one thing, it gives us a chance to spend a little time together, something that’s been in short supply these past few weeks.”
I studied his face as I finished off my muffin. I didn’t want to inconvenience him, but honestly, I knew I’d feel better if he accompanied me. Not that I expected any trouble, but now that I had more to consider than just my own safety … “That’s a good point. We’ll just have to make sure we’re back early enough to allow you time to relax and warm up or whatever else you need to do.”
“Shouldn’t take that long,” Richard said before polishing off his coffee. “And maybe we can stop on the way back and grab a bottle of champagne for our own private party after the performance tonight. I know the actual reception is tomorrow, but I’m probably going to want to celebrate tonight as well. I’ll invite Karla to stop by and share a glass. That’s all I want this evening—just a toast or two between the three of us.”
I didn’t dismiss this idea despite knowing I couldn’t—or, rather, shouldn’t—be drinking any alcohol. But I could explain that later. I’d just nurse my own glass of champagne until Karla left. Then you’ll be celebrating more than just the premiere, I thought, hiding my smile behind my hand.
With his confession of nerves and anxiety, I’d decided to wait until after tonight’s performance to give Richard our good news, mainly because I was a little worried that it would be too distracting if I said anything before the show. “Sounds good,” I said. “We even have cheese and crackers and some fruit, if you guys are hungry. Which you will be, I bet.”
“Probably,” Richard said with a smile. “Okay then, let’s go and rescue Ethan’s sister. After all, it’s only fair, since he did rescue you.”
“True enough. I’ll just go brush my teeth and throw on some shoes, and we can drive over to Blue Haven and be back before lunch.”
“Long before, I hope.” Richard circled around the table to plant a kiss on the top of my head. “I’m sure I haven’t said it enough, but thanks for putting up with all my absences lately. I know it probably feels like we’ve been living in different worlds.”
“It’s fine,” I said, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze. “I know how important this is to you and Karla. I’m just thrilled to see it all come to fruition.”
Richard pulled me to my feet and wrapped his arms around me. “Don’t know how I got lucky enough to find you, but I’m certainly thankful for that too.” He leaned in to kiss me. “Can’t imagine anything better,” he added as he released me.
I couldn’t smother a mischievous smile.
“Now, what’s this cat-who-ate-the-canary expression all about?” Richard asked, looking me up and down. “Have you planned some sort of surprise for me after the show tonight?”
“Could be,” I said.
“Do you have your phone? Because I think I left mine on the table,” I asked Richard as I drove through Smithsburg on our way to the Lance farm.
“I believe so.” Richard patted the pocket of his jeans. “Yep. Although I don’t have your friend’s number on my phone, so it might not be that helpful.”
“I think I remember it. Anyway, she should be waiting for us, and I know her car. We just have to locate a copper-colored compact hybrid. There can’t be that many of those parked at the farm.”
“I imagine they have trucks or bigger vehicles, like SUVs.” Richard stretched out his legs. “We should’ve taken my car. More leg room.”
“Sorry, I didn’t think of that.” I took the road leading to the Lance farm, which thankfully wasn’t as rutted as many of the other routes outside of town. “You haven’t been out here before, have you?”
“Didn’t have any reason to visit. Glenda and Oliver donated money to the Folklore Suite’s production, but they’ve never hosted any fundraisers, like Kurt did.”
“It’s quite a place. A little over the top, though. I prefer Highview, to be honest.” As I turned into the entrance to Blue Haven Farm, I was surprised to see the metal gates standing open. “That’s odd. I was little concerned that we’d have to be buzzed in. Wasn’t sure what excuse to give.”
“Picking up a stranded friend wouldn’t have worked?” Richard asked as I drove through the open gates.
“I guess it would have. It’s just”—I cast Richard an embarrassed smile—“I may have ticked off Glenda Lance just a teeny bit when I was here with Aunt Lydia and Zelda last Sunday.”
Richard raised his eyebrows. “You didn’t mention that when you told me about your afternoon. Of course, I did notice that you didn’t say much about the event.”
“It wasn’t a major thing. I just snooped in their library a little. Oliver Lance escorted me to the library, by the way. It wasn’t like I was wandering around their house on my own.”
“Not sure that makes it better. You told me Kurt thought you’d be his type.”
“Yeah, but he’s not mine,” I said firmly. Lifting one hand off the steering wheel, I reached over and patted Richard’s knee. “My type is right here.”
“Good to know.” Richard flashed a grin before turning his head to stare out the side window. “It is an impressive spread. Look at those horse barns. I bet there aren’t any cobwebs or other typical farm clutter in those.”
Shooting a quick look in the direction of the barns, I slammed on the brakes.
“What the heck?” Richard, who’d braced himself by pressing his palms against the dashboard, sat back and flexed his fingers. “Warn a fellow next time.”
“The metallic-blue sedan,” I said in a hollow voice. “It’s there, in that shed.”
“Okay, I see there is something with a tarp draped over it, parked in the shed. What of it?”
“Look closer. Where the tarp has slipped off, you can tell it’s a large, older model car. A metallic-blue car.”
Richard turned to me, questions brimming in his gray eyes. “I see that now. But what’s the significance?”
“I think it’s the same vehicle I saw in the parking lot behind the theater the day Meredith was killed,” I said. “Nate Broyhill spoke to someone in that blue car but told the authorities that it was just a stranger asking for directions.”
“Oh.” Richard’s eyes narrowed. “But if that same vehicle is parked here, it has to belong to the farm.”
“So he lied. Someone Nate knew was there with him that day.”
Richard and I stared at each other for a second before he pulled out his cell phone. “What’s Brad’s number?” he asked as I released my pressure on the brake and continued down the driveway. He entered the number as I dictated it, then said, “No answer. I’m going to leave a message to call back.”
“Tell him we’re at Blue Haven Farm too,” I said, slowing down as I approached the main house.
Monica’s vehicle wasn’t sitting in the circular driveway, but perhaps she’d pulled into the gravel lot off to the side of the house. As I parked the car, I gazed over toward the lot, noticing that one of the garage doors was open.
Sitting in the bay was a small white car, just like the one that had trailed me to Clarion that day. I swore under my breath as I unbuckled my seat belt. Although I couldn’t be absolutely certain that it was the same vehicle, the coincidence raised my anxiety level several degrees.
But I didn’t want to mention it to Richard. No use making him nervous as well. “I don’t see Monica’s car,” I said. “I think we should check at the house and see if she’s still here.”
“Is that wise?” Richard asked, as he joined me outside of the car. “If the Lance family or someone on their staff is mixed up in Meredith’s death—”
“We can’t abandon Monica here,” I interjected.
“If she is still here, or ever was,” Richard said grimly.
“Don’t you think we’d better find out, one way or the other? She did ask for my help. Besides, you’ve alerted Brad, so we should be fine.” I walked briskly toward the house.
Richard easily outpaced me. Reaching the front porch, he pressed the doorbell right before I joined him. Expecting a maid or housekeeper to answer the bell, I was surprised when we were greeted by Oliver Lance.
“Oh dear,” he said, his eyes bright as stars in his flushed face. “I didn’t plan on both of you showing up. Still, you’d better come in.”
Richard grabbed my hand and pulled me close to his side. “We don’t want to be a bother. We’re just looking for Monica Payne. She texted Amy that her car had broken down and she needed a ride.”
“It’s really no bother,” Oliver said, lifting his right arm so the light glinted off the gun in his hand.