The Old Barn was exactly that, a beautiful, giant red barn that was transformed into a reception hall that could accommodate an intimate party of seventy-five people or an extravagant event for up to five hundred. It was rustic and simple, yet anyone who was able to book their party there was allowed bragging rights of having celebrated their special day in the same place where the governor of Oregon’s daughter had her wedding reception. Recently, the star of a comic book superhero movie also had his son’s fifth birthday party there.
The property sat on top of a hill with a beautifully manicured lawn with brilliant patches of every kind of flower imaginable. Tall weeping willows added to the romance of the entire place. The long drive leading up to it was gravel until it got to the house where the owners lived. They rented out their farmhouse as a bed-and-breakfast able to accommodate about thirty guests. The wraparound porch was sprinkled with antique milk canisters, rocking chairs, and even a tub with a washboard in it. Delicate wind chimes hung from every corner of the house and were set off with the slightest breeze.
“It’s like we stepped into a Jane Austen book,” Christine said as they parked Amelia’s old sedan at the top of the hill.
As soon as they got out of the car, a tall woman in a striking green blazer and matching skirt came hustling out of the farmhouse. She had to be about six feet tall, and that was without the stilettos she was wearing.
“Hello,” she said without smiling. Her thick lips were coated with a brown lipstick, and her hair was piled on top of her head in a loose bun. “You must be Amelia Harley. We’ve been expecting you.” The woman sniffled. Either she was coming down with a cold or she had been crying. Amelia wasn’t sure.
“Yes,” Amelia replied and stuck out her hand.
“I’m Sondra Hope. I’m the owner of The Old Barn. Welcome,” she said, still barely cracking a smile.
Amelia went on to express how much she liked what she’d seen so far just coming up the driveway. “It’s absolutely breathtaking,” she said.
“Thank you. Um, if you’ll excuse me for a second, I have an issue with some of the staff I must tend to. We’ve got a huge fundraiser taking place in four days and aren’t nearly ready. But we will be. Why don’t you walk around the grounds and look inside the old barn, and I’ll be right back to answer any of your questions.” Sondra looked over her shoulder as though she expected someone to come running out after her.
“Thank you. We’ll do just that,” Amelia said.
As soon as Sondra turned her back and headed back toward the house, Christine looked at Amelia with raised eyebrows. “What do you think that is all about?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe she just got some bad news, or her pet died. I couldn’t even guess,” Amelia replied.
“She isn’t what I expected as the owner of The Old Barn. I thought it would be a chubby middle-aged farm lady wearing a flowered house dress, and her husband would be in overalls, holding a pitchfork, while she carried a basket of ripe tomatoes,” Christine added.
“That’s what I would have thought too. She looks like she stepped out of one of those magazines we were looking at.”
Amelia nodded toward the barn. They started to walk in that direction when suddenly there was a loud shriek, the sound of something crashing, and then dead silence. From around the back of the house, a man in a navy-blue jumpsuit came rushing out. He was covered in sweat, and his eyes were wild, but he stopped as soon as he saw Amelia and Christine.
“Did you hear that?” Christine asked.
Just then, a tall man in sleek black slacks and a crisp light-gray button-down shirt came strolling out from what looked like a greenhouse attached to the house. His hands were in his pockets. His eyes shifted up, then he stopped abruptly as if he wasn’t expecting to see two strangers standing near his porch.
He pulled his hands from his pockets. “What was that?” he barked while looking at Amelia and Christine.
They shrugged, and Amelia pointed toward the house. He went inside the house through the front door, letting it slam behind him. There were shuffling sounds, something glass broke on the floor, and there was grunting.
Before Amelia could say another word, the front screen door flew open, and Sondra came staggering out, her face contorted in pain, her eyes wide and yet unseeing. Her hands were held out in front of her as if she were only able to find her way by touch. After three clumsy steps, she fell over, slapping hard against the wood porch floor and revealing a pair of garden shears protruding from her back. She was dead.
“Oh my gosh!” Christine cried. “Someone call 911!”
The gardener stood there, sweating and looking around nervously, before he hurried to the work shed at the far end of the barn and disappeared inside.
Christine fumbled through her purse, muttering the entire time that she had never seen anything like it, nor had she ever wanted to. “You can’t have your reception here now. There has got to be a saying from the old country warning brides not to marry where a death has occurred, or you’ll be cursed with eighty years of sorrow or thick black facial hair or something equally ghoulish.”
She held her cell phone up to her ear and spoke with the dispatcher, giving a quick yet gruesome account of what just happened. The thing Amelia wondered was where the guy in the sports jacket was. He was looking for Sondra just a minute ago, but now he didn’t even come to the porch to see if she was all right.
Amelia ran up to her but could tell by the way her eyes stared blankly and her face was twisted in a grimace of fear that she was dead. Other than the garden tool protruding from her back, her nails, jewelry, and hair were still in place. Her right shoe had come off, exposing a perfectly pedicured foot. Amelia shook her head at Christine, who continued to speak to the dispatcher. Sirens could be heard in the distance.
“What are you doing? Get away from her!” screamed a hysterical man who looked like Superman had just stepped out of a comic book and slipped out of his superhero costume into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and cowboy boots.
“I’m sorry. I was just trying…” Amelia stuttered before looking at Christine, who stared with her mouth open and the phone hovering away from her ear. She mouthed the word “Wow.”
“He did it! I can’t believe it! He finally did it! Oh, Sondra! Sondra, can you hear me?” the man blubbered like a big baby. Tears gushed from his eyes as he tried to roll Sondra over.
“You shouldn’t touch her until the police arrive. You might—”
“Shut up!” he shouted. “Get away from her!”
Amelia did as she was ordered and stood next to Christine just as a slew of police cars and the ambulance arrived.
“Well, this is an ugly mess. Sir, I need you to step away from the body immediately!” shouted a plainclothes detective Amelia had never seen before. He was heavyset and waddled as he walked. “Good afternoon, ladies,” he said to Amelia and Christine.
He approached the body as if he was sidling up to an all-you-can-eat buffet. Before studying Sondra, he pointed to one of the rocking chairs, and the sobbing man took a seat without issue. He continued to sob.
Within minutes, a small woman in a blue windbreaker with the word Coroner on the back came strolling up to the detective with a camera in each hand. She muttered a few words to the detective, who answered her loudly.
“Yeah. I want the video done last. Make sure to get all angles of the weapon. Her hands and feet too,” the detective said. For a man of his stature, he was agile enough to get down on his hands and knees to stare directly into Sondra’s dead face. After a few seconds, he grunted and pushed himself up.
“You ladies see what happened?” he asked suddenly, making them both jump.