SEVEN

Since my stick shift skills were more than questionable in the mountains, Dad volunteered to chauffeur me to Asheville in Aunt Eva’s beefy Chevy truck. I needed the loaner to haul my paltry belongings to my new Udderly Kidding home.

As I suspected, my boss had no problems saying adios if it meant saving a few pennies. Plenty of wannabe chefs applied every month for my sous chef position.

I’d been living rent-free in a swanky enclave of mini-mansions just outside Asheville’s city limits. Jessica, an eccentric globe-trotting widow, was my landlady. Whenever she departed on one of her travel extravaganzas, I housesat and took care of Xena, her spoiled German shepherd. In exchange, I enjoyed a comfy, if compact, efficiency apartment above her garage. Even better, I had the run, literally, of the gated community’s lush landscaped grounds and could dive into the often vacant pool whenever I wanted to swim laps. While I’d never win a triathlon, I was pretty disciplined about exercising. Maybe I’d squeeze in a few short runs before nightfall while living at Udderly. Getting up to exercise before my dawn chores seemed downright obscene.

I’d miss my Asheville digs and landlady. Our arrangement had let me end each pay period with extra bucks to put toward an eventual down payment on a B&B. When Jessica was in town, she’d served as my fearless taste-tester, willing to try any of my vegan concoctions.

Fortunately, my hasty departure wouldn’t leave my benefactor or her pampered pooch in a pinch. One of my friends had already won Jessica’s stamp of approval.

She had two hiring conditions: her dog had to give her lick of approval, and live-in candidates couldn’t consume meat. Jessica was militant about the ethical treatment of living creatures. Since I wasn’t sure if she considered milking goats an acceptable human-animal bond, I delicately sidestepped the fact I was taking off to help run a goat cheese farm.

Before starting the scenic two-hour drive from Ardon County to Asheville, we helped Aunt Eva with early (and I do mean early) morning chores. The drive offered my first opportunity to have Dad all to my lonesome so I could grill him about Aunt Eva and her long-forgotten husband.

For the first fifteen minutes on the road, I dillydallied, unsure how to tactfully inquire about the skeleton that publicly tumbled out of our family closet. We passed a kudzu-choked hillside. When Dad failed to make his usual crime-writer quip—“Now there’s where I’d hide a body. Kudzu would blanket it in fifteen minutes.”—I knew he was beyond preoccupied.

Every time I snuck a glance his way, Dad’s scowl discouraged conversation. The vein twitching at the side of his temple suggested anger lurked behind his glower.

I’d almost worked up the nerve to speak when he broke the silence. “With that skeleton popping up, you’re bound to hear gossip, ugly gossip. You need to understand what it was like for Eva forty years ago.”

He took his gaze off the winding mountain road long enough to make eye contact. “Eva has some mean-spirited enemies. Mostly kin to Jed, country folk who were horrified when he married an outsider, and a Yankee to boot. After Jed had gone missing long enough to be declared dead, Eva inherited his farm. Given that the land had belonged to the Watson clan for five generations, some of his relatives became downright apoplectic. The fact she dared to change her last name back to Hooker didn’t help.”

When Dad paused for several seconds, I prodded. “I heard Eva admit she’d wished Jed dead. Why?”

Dad stole another glance at me. “The bastard beat Eva. Over a period of three years, he broke both her arms, a leg, and her jaw. Burned her once, too. Held her hand over a gas burner on their stove. You can still see the scarring on her right palm. The violence started within months of their wedding. Eva was isolated on the farm and too humiliated to admit her horrible mistake. Jed threatened to kill her if she told anyone or tried to leave.”

Dad shook his head. “This all came out later. Much later. At the time, I didn’t have a clue. Had I known, I swear I’d have killed the bastard myself, sent him straight to hell so his skin would feel the flames.”

My throat tightened as I tried to imagine the beautiful young woman I’d seen in yesterday’s video beaten by a man she’d pledged to love until death parted them. “I can’t believe Eva didn’t tell Lilly. Reach out to her twin. They seemed so close, I would have sworn they had mental telepathy.”

“Lilly knew it was bad, but Eva refused to admit how bad. Guess she was mortified she’d let herself wind up in such a fix. She was barely nineteen, a college freshman, when Jed swept her off her feet. Lilly begged Eva to postpone marrying until she finished college, but Jed was graduating, and Eva said she couldn’t bear being separated. Whenever Lilly visited, Eva always had some cockeyed explanation for her injuries. Claimed she’d been kicked by an ornery mule or tangled with some exotic piece of farm equipment.”

I couldn’t fathom how Eva had fallen for such a lout. “You met him, right? Jed. What was your take?”

Dad didn’t speak. The past hung heavy in the car.

“All the ladies thought he was good-looking. Athletic. Only time I laid eyes on him was the day of the wedding. Spent all of what—a half-hour—talking to him, mostly about hunting and fishing. Eva seemed so happy, downright giddy. Claimed she’d never tire of Jed’s honeyed Southern drawl.”

“You didn’t see them after the wedding?”

Dad shook his head. “They never invited family down, and Eva never made it back to Iowa. Always begged off, saying it wasn’t a good time. One excuse after another. To tell the truth, I was a self-absorbed punk, thinking about football games, girls, grades, and zits. Didn’t occur to me something might be wrong.”

I tried to imagine Eva’s happiness morphing into fear. “When did Jed disappear?”

“Eva snuck off to see a lawyer about a divorce the day after she celebrated her twenty-first birthday. The next week Jed left on a fishing trip. No one ever saw him again. There were plenty of accusations back then. His relatives screamed Eva had done him in and hid the body. Of course, there wasn’t one scrap of proof. I know my sister. She’s no killer. Plenty of folks thought otherwise. Still do.”

Dad’s shoulders slumped. “That’s why your mom and I aren’t keen about you living on the farm. Lots of members of the Watson clan live nearby. Your mother has brought charges against quite a few. These folks let their fists do their talking. It would be just like one of these hot heads to pay Eva a visit. Old hatreds and grudges have been simmering on Ardon County’s back burner for years. That skeleton could bring the bitter stew to a rolling boil. I don’t want you—or Eva—in harm’s way.”

The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. When I thought about Udderly Kidding, my associations were unfailingly good. Love and laughter. Sunshine and sparkling creeks. Shaggy dogs and newborn kids.

Danger? Nope.

Not unless you considered it hazardous to scarf down too many of Lilly’s homemade cinnamon rolls.

“Please reconsider, Brie.” Dad cut into my reverie. “Both you and Eva should move in with your mom and me. We have tons of room. What with the days getting longer, you’ll have plenty of time to handle chores and still bed down at our house. You don’t need to spend a single night out there in the boonies.”

I shook my head. “You’re dreaming, Dad. You know Eva won’t leave her guardian dogs alone to deal with coyotes or trespassers. She and Aunt Lilly refused to leave the farm for more than a weekend for fear someone might decide their goats would be easy pickings on a midnight raid. Besides, Eva has a shotgun and knows how to use it. You read too many crime novels. That skeleton just rattled you. We’ll be fine.”

At least I hoped so. Lilly had tried to teach me to shoot. I wasn’t a natural. The paper targets she hung in the gully for practice fluttered in the breeze unscathed despite an empty box of buckshot. Maybe I’d ask Eva for another lesson.

  

It took less than an hour to pack up my worldly possessions and load them in the truck. Dad and I saved my heftiest object—my stationary bike—as the last to load. Then Jessica treated Dad and me to a leisurely two-hour meal. After dessert, Dad’s fidgeting signaled he was beyond ready to get going. We said our goodbyes and Jessica’s German shepherd sent me off with a final volley of slobbery kisses. Xena never did grasp “Down, girl.”

Dad and I didn’t talk much on our return trip. As we rounded the last bend in Udderly’s graveled lane, I spotted a strange vehicle in the drive. And I meant strange, even on my scale, which left plenty of room for the peculiar. The van’s midnight blue paint job served as a backdrop for a galaxy of glittering stars and one super-sized harvest moon.

Dad chuckled. “The van is Mollye’s newest purchase. Says it’s great advertising for Starry Skies.”

I smiled. “Wow. Should have guessed. Looks like the kind of ride Mollye with an ‘e’ would pick.”

That’s how my old friend, Mollye Camp, always introduced herself. “I’m Mollye with an ‘e’ hangin’ off the hind-end of my name. Mom says six is her lucky number. The added ‘e’ makes me a lucky ducky.”

We became fast friends at age eight when I visited my aunts over summer vacation. Mollye kept two ponies at Udderly Kidding. We rode together, camped in the meadow behind my aunts’ cabin, and competed to see who could concoct the spookiest stories ’round the campfire. Not much of a competition. Mollye had a wild imagination. One reason our best adventures often ended with me occupying a chair in the corner, contemplating the wall.

“I’m glad she’s here,” I added. “Mollye’s sure to cheer up Eva.”

Dad smiled. “Your friend’s ‘woo-woo’ store is doing a banner business. Starry Skies now sells Udderly goat soap, local crafts, and Mollye’s own pottery as well as homeopathic remedies and astrological doodads. People come from all over to see her for horoscopes, astrological charts, and palm and Tarot readings.”

“She’s become a psychic?” My eyebrows hiked skyward. This was new. Given that I hadn’t seen Mollye in a year, all bets were off.

“Not exactly. Just says we ought to keep an open mind about what we can’t see or hear. She does this stuff for fun. Not out to scam anyone.”

Dad yoo-hooed before we entered the cabin.

“Come on in,” Eva called from her rocking chair.

Mollye sat at my aunt’s feet, her legs contorted in one of those yoga poses that looked like a taffy-pull gone horribly wrong. Hunched over, Mollye cradled my aunt’s open palm in her own mitt like a fragile manuscript. When she swiveled to greet us, she didn’t relinquish Eva’s hand.

“I’d jump up and hug you, but I’ve got Eva’s life in my hands.” She grinned. “Well, maybe just her lifeline.”

I bent down and kissed Mollye’s cheek. “Great to see you.”

“Glad you made it back before I had to skedaddle,” Mollye said.

A good thing the Starry Skies van had announced her presence and primed me for the inevitable surprise. Mollye changed her appearance as often as I traded running shoes. This time I wondered if she’d played pin-cushion with a porcupine. A tiny silver star hung from her nose ring, and, based on the variety of jingle jangles dangling from her ears, her lobes had enough holes to serve as sieves. A tattoo wrapped her forearm. What the frankfurter? First time I’d ever seen an old-fashioned quilt design stenciled on flesh. Old South meets punk rock?

A vibrant shock of purple ran down the center part in Mollye’s white-blonde hair. The skunk-style streak perfectly matched her purple eye shadow.

Having called Asheville home till this very afternoon, I was accustomed to seeing people with brilliant swaths of painted hair, tattoos snaking up appendages and down cleavages, ear studs, nose rings, and personal punctures in locations that gave me the heebie-jeebies to contemplate.

But here? In Ardon County? Mollye clearly wasn’t afraid to push the local envelope.

“Mollye assures me I have a long lifeline.” Eva snorted. “Hope I don’t spend those extra years in prison. Orange washes out my complexion. I’d look like a pumpkin topped with marshmallows. Sheriff Jones dropped by. Informed me the skeleton’s teeth matched Jed’s dental records. Said the case was now officially being investigated as a homicide, and I should not make any plans to take my caboose out of Ardon County.”

“Eva, I’m sorry,” Dad managed. “The sheriff’s off his rocker if he thinks you could have killed that skunk.”

Mollye relinquished Eva’s hand. “Granny agrees. She thinks Nancy Tarbox Watson murdered Jed. Says that witch has a soul uglier than a wart-encrusted toad no matter how much she tarts up her exterior.”

Dad frowned. “I’ve never heard of this Nancy person. Who is she and why would she want to kill Jed?”

Mollye patted my aunt’s hand, unwound her taffy limbs and rose gracefully to her five-foot-six height. I wasn’t about to hazard a guess on poundage. Mollye’d always been husky. Never slowed her down in any department—men friends included.

“Granny says Nancy planned to marry Jed soon as he graduated college. She threw a hissy fit when he came back with a Yankee bride. The little matter of marriage vows didn’t stop the hussy from flinging herself at Jed.”

My old friend threw an apologetic glance Eva’s way. “Rumor has it they were heating up the sheets again just before he went poof and disappeared.”

Eva caught my horrified look and sighed. “This isn’t breaking news. I heard her grandmother’s theory years back. When Jed disappeared, I had no idea he might be doing the horizontal mambo with an old sweetheart. But the sheriff will see it as one more motive for me to have killed my husband. ’Course the opposite is true. I’d have helped Jed pack his bags if he’d agreed to split and make Nancy his new punching bag.”

Mollye frowned. “I’ll tell Granny to zip her lips, but surely Sheriff Jones has heard those tales. Granny claims everyone in the county knew Jed catted around.” She ducked her head in Eva’s direction by way of apology. “Ah, sorry, I guess everyone but you. Granny’s convinced Jed had his fun, then dumped Nancy a second time. Once she figured out the relationship had no future, the bimbo decided Jed didn’t deserve a future either.”

My aunt snorted. “Wish I could buy that.”

Eva rocked forward in her chair. “Even if this woman was madder than a wet hen, why dig a grave within sight of our farmhouse? Too risky. One heck of a sweaty job, too. Jed was a big fella. Six foot, over two hundred pounds. She’d have gotten a hernia planting him.”

“What happened to Nancy?” I asked. “Does she still live around here?”

“Sure does,” Mollye answered. “She’s been hitched three times. Latest hubby is Eli Watson, one of Jed’s cousins. Nancy’s one of the owners of Hands On, that nail salon on Highway 130. She does manicures and pedicures.”

I looked down at my raggedy fingernails and had a sudden urge to treat myself to a manicure. Then again, maybe not. A manicure would be a might suspicious. Nail polish and glue-on fakes were no-no’s for professional chefs. Nothing like a patron spotting a blinged-up fingernail swimming in her soup. I wiggled my toes. Maybe a pedicure?

Mollye gave Eva a hug. “I’ll come by Thursday to pick up more goat soap. It’s one of my bestsellers. Sorry I couldn’t come to Lilly’s farewell. I loved her, too.”

A minute later, Mollye flung her arms around me and squeezed. She’d always been a hugger, but this was the first time I worried about surviving without any transfer punctures.

“How about a girls’ night out?” she asked. “Maybe movie and a pizza? I know you’re vegan now. That’s cool. I love veggie pizza.”

“Right,” I stammered, not sure what Mollye might cook up for a night out these days. I guessed the entertainment wouldn’t be ghost stories and s’mores.

Dad, ever the gentleman, rose from the couch to escort Mollye to her glitzy van.

As soon as the front door closed, Eva chuckled. “You look shell-shocked. I forgot to warn you about Mollye’s new look. Imagine you’ll have a few more surprises living on a goat cheese farm in Ardon County. Hope one of them isn’t seeing your auntie carted away in leg irons.”

I knew kidding was one of Eva’s ways of dealing with adversity, but jokes about jail made me shudder.

Eva turned toward me. “I wasn’t surprised by my earlier drop-ins—Paint in the morning and Andy in the afternoon. They were plum disappointed you weren’t here. Told each of ’em I was sure you’d love to have them show you the local sights. Gave ’em your cell phone number. I’ll let you pick. Sure I kid Paint about his playboy reputation, but he’s got a good heart, and it’s high time Andy spent some time cuddling a two-legged companion. They’re both good company and good-looking to boot. If I were your age, I might try and juggle the two of them.”

Eva snickered at my panicked expression. I wasn’t sure I was ready to climb aboard the dating train with one man. Two at once? No way.