All Natural Murder (25 page)

Tara gave me a shove toward the garage door in the back. “Hurry up, would you? If Donald’s thinking about leaving me, I don’t need to give him another reason when he sees me talking to you.”

Given how Donald had chased me out of his store at our last encounter, Tara’s worries might be on the mark. She hustled me farther back toward the rolling door.

I literally dug in my heels to stop my momentum and held up my hands. “All right, I’ll go.”

“Thanks.” Tara gave me another little shove, in case I changed my mind, then hurried toward the front. I nodded to the guy unloading a palate of toilet paper and walked to my car.

As I drove out of the lot, I thought about our conversation. For all that talking, Tara really hadn’t helped much. Now I knew she’d been stealing the money, but that didn’t change things. As long as Donald thought Bobby Joe was guilty, that still gave him a motive.

Back at the farm, I gave up my usual parking place for one in the shade and trudged along the side path that would lead me to the kitchen door. Lunch was long over, but Zennia might need my help with a snack. Otherwise, I’d spend the afternoon working on marketing materials.

I hung a left when I reached the cabins and walked toward the pool area. Crusher reclined on a chaise longue, sunglasses planted on his face.

I thought he might be sleeping, but he jumped up when I walked by and whipped off his sunglasses. “Dana, hi again.”

“Hey, Crusher, enjoying your day?”

He let his gaze linger on me. “It’s better now.”

I blushed and tried to think of a conversation changer. As I poked around my empty brain, Crusher spoke.

“How about watching that video now?”

He spoke with such eagerness that I was catapulted back fifteen years to when Mickey, my next-door teen neighbor, invited me to his room to see his comic-book collection. As I’d soon discovered, he’d really wanted to try out his quick technique for removing my bra. Since I already knew I didn’t want Crusher removing any of my clothing, his suggestion didn’t exactly excite me.

“I’m still working.”

He gave me a puppy-dog look, big eyes and all. “It’d only take a minute.”

I felt myself waffling. What would it hurt? The guy obviously wanted someone to show off his video to, and he didn’t seem to know anyone else in town. I was about to agree when I heard my name. Gordon stood at the French doors of the dining room, waving his arm for me to join him. Drat.

“Duty calls,” I said lightly to Crusher. I didn’t want him to know my insides were one giant knot. What did Gordon need to talk to me about this time? What had I done wrong now?

“Later, then.” Crusher slipped his sunglasses back on and lowered himself onto the chaise longue. I headed to where Gordon waited, checking his watch. If he was in such a hurry, maybe he should have walked over to where I was.

“I didn’t want to talk in front of the guests,” he said as if reading my mind.

I put my hands on my hips, preparing for battle. “Don’t think for one minute that you’re going to tell me I’m doing something wrong again. I’ve been working all day and haven’t even taken a lunch break.” Well, except those few minutes sitting in my car and talking to Jason on the phone, but that hardly counted.

Gordon narrowed his eyes. “I wanted to apologize,” he snapped.

My eyebrows shot up. “Come again?”

“A couple of days ago, I accused you of not giving me the demographics report.”

“I remember.” I spoke slowly and quietly, not wanting to interrupt a possible admission that he’d made a mistake.

“While looking at my clipboard a bit ago, I noticed there was no check mark next to that particular line item, which means I never actually asked you.”

I felt a gloating smile creep its way upward, but I tamped it down. “I see.”

“I’m sorry I falsely accused you. You’re not quite as incompetent as I accused you to be.”

“Gee, thanks.” As apologies went, it was certainly lacking, but for Gordon, this was a breakthrough moment. “Did you happen to mention this discovery to Esther?”

Gordon fiddled with a cuff link. “I did. However, all my other observations were correct. You still need to focus more on your job.”

I smiled sweetly. “I always do.” Well, I hadn’t been lately, but no way would I admit that.

Gordon smiled back at me. “Excellent, because we have another yoga candidate coming in for an interview tomorrow. He hasn’t worked in the last ten years, but I’m sure he has a valid reason.”

“I’ll be sure to ask him.” Maybe he was in prison, or living in a monk’s cell, or hiking the world with only a backpack and a pair of sturdy shoes.

Gordon’s smile widened. “Good, but before that, I need you to do something for me this very afternoon.” Uh-oh, a little payback for the apology?

“What is it?” I asked, bracing myself.

“The Steddelbeckers would like to spend their last day here doing something fun. I volunteered you to drive them out to the fairgrounds.”

Of all the horrible chores I could have thought up, chauffeuring the Steddelbeckers around wasn’t one of them. But it should have been. “What the heck am I driving them to the fairgrounds for?”

“Someone mentioned the old tractor collection. Turns out they’re huge tractor fans and want to take a look.”

“Those tractors are still there? When is the town going to clean up that place?” The Blossom Valley town council had fenced off an area way back when I was in junior high. It’d been collecting rusted parts and broken-down tractors ever since.

“There’s still talk of turning the area into a tractor display one of these years.” Gordon adjusted the other cuff link. “Now, I’m sure you can squeeze this trip into your schedule. I don’t need to mention how crucial customer satisfaction is right now, with so many vacancies.”

I pictured myself ripping off my work shirt, throwing it on the ground, and quitting right then. Who wanted to drive those two around town, listening to them complain? But I needed this job. And with Esther and Gordon watching my work performance, I couldn’t afford to refuse. “When do we leave?”

Gordon looked at his watch. “Twenty minutes. They’ll be waiting in their cabin.” He walked off.

Great. That gave me one minute to walk to their cabin and nineteen minutes to convince myself that I absolutely, positively had to drive them to the fairgrounds. Off to my right, I heard someone singing and followed the sound across the patio to the herb garden. Zennia crouched among the plants, plucking rosemary stems and placing them in a basket. She waved a stalk at me. “For tonight’s halibut.”

“Wow, halibut’s a bit pedestrian for you, isn’t it?”

Zennia chortled. “In honor of Darlene and Horace’s last dinner with us, I thought I’d present them with something they might recognize.” She plucked another stem. “But I’m making a side of seaweed salad with diced prunes for good measure.”

“Give them a double dose. Gordon’s making me drive them out for a tour of the old tractors at the fairgrounds.”

Zennia rose, her knees popping. “You poor child. Just remember, you’re doing it for the spa. Maybe they’ll tell their friends about this place.”

I was pretty sure we didn’t want any of their friends staying here either, but her words reminded me once again about how precarious the spa’s livelihood was. We needed a steady stream of visitors to make the place a success. “We could use more guests; that’s for sure.”

With a few minutes left to kill, I went into the house and stopped by the office to see if I had any e-mail. After sending a handful of replies, I closed the browser and grabbed my purse from the desk drawer. Might as well get this afternoon over with. Then I could enjoy my dinner with Jason.

I mentally sorted the clothes in my closet as I thought about what to wear on our date. I definitely wanted an outfit that showed I was making an effort. Maybe I’d wear that dress I’d rejected for my non-date with Crusher. I’d have Ashlee help me with the shoes, though she’d no doubt lament my lack of selection. But when you slopped food to the pigs and collected chicken eggs, you basically only needed a pair of boots.

At two minutes after three, I knocked on the Steddelbeckers’ cabin. Darlene opened the door, dressed in a gold tracksuit and black running shoes. It was way too hot for the sweatshirt, but I wouldn’t be the one to tell her.

“You’re late,” she said.

Already off to a great start. “I was finishing up some work. Are you and Mr. Steddelbecker ready?”

Darlene harrumphed, and I took that as a yes. Horace appeared in the bathroom doorway, his white socks pulled up and his plaid shorts hanging down, leaving only his knees exposed.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” he said. “Time’s a wastin’.”

With an internal sigh, I turned and led the way down the path, steeling myself for my time with the Steddelbeckers. This was bound to be a long afternoon.

I led the Steddelbeckers down the path and stopped at my Civic. As soon as I opened the passenger door, Darlene swung her cane inside and tapped the seat.

“Awful tight space,” she said. “We’re not gymnasts.”

“Perhaps Mr. Steddelbecker could sit behind me, and we can slide your seat back,” I suggested.

When neither one argued with that idea, I flipped the seat forward. Horace crawled in the back, and Darlene eased into the front. She laid her cane on the floor, wedging it beside the seat.

I shut the door, grumbling to myself about my unwelcome afternoon plans as I walked around the car and got in. Sweat gathered along my hairline before I’d even settled into my seat.

Horace leaned between the two seats and tried to hit the buttons on my console. “Good God, woman. Turn on the air conditioner.”

“You trying to kill us?” Darlene asked. She removed her gold sweatshirt, revealing a purple T-shirt with a picture of a cheese wedge on the front.

I turned the key in the ignition and started the air conditioner full blast. We headed out, Darlene fiddling with the air vents so that they pointed directly at her.

She spent the ride complaining about the weather, complaining about the cost of food and gas, and complaining about the long plane ride ahead of them. Horace would occasionally grunt his agreement from the backseat. By the time I pulled into the fairgrounds parking lot, I was wishing that we were headed to the airport instead, so they could get started on that plane ride.

The fairgrounds looked completely different on this visit compared to the last. On Saturday night, the parking lot had been packed with monster truck fans all jazzed up for the rally. Today the parking lot was one giant, empty expanse, save for a lone truck over near the buildings. As I pulled into a slot a few spaces away, I glanced at the green paint job and did a double take as I bumped the curb with my car. If I wasn’t mistaken, that was Todd’s truck. What was he doing here? Retrieving something from the scene of the crime? Had he lied about his alibi after all?

I shut off the engine, and we all piled out of the car. Darlene fanned herself with her hand, then reached down and retrieved her cane from the car.

“Hotter than blazes out here,” she said. “Did you pack any drinks?”

“No, but you’ll find vending machines over there.” I pointed to the nearest building, where a Pepsi machine glowed.

“I didn’t bring my purse.”

Horace patted the pockets of his plaid shorts and shrugged.

This customer satisfaction was for the pits. I fished around my console until I found a few dollar bills, then held them out to the Steddelbeckers.

Darlene snatched the bills from my hand and scowled. “Guess this’ll be enough.”

Gee, you’re welcome.

I leaned against the car and watched them step onto the curb, cross the sidewalk that ran before the building, and approach the soda machine apprehensively, as though it might spring to life and steal their money. Well, my money.

A door in a nearby building opened, and Todd emerged. He was studying the screen on his smartphone and didn’t look up until he reached his truck. When he spotted me, I gave him a little wave.

He lowered the phone. “You still following me? Waiting to plant that evidence?”

Here I thought we’d moved past that, but apparently not. “I’m working. How about you?”

“None of your damn business,” he said.

Testy, testy. “Have the day off?” I persisted. Why else wasn’t he at work on a Tuesday afternoon?

“I don’t have to answer your questions.” He yanked his truck door open and hopped inside, slamming the door and starting the engine. But instead of driving away, he sat there, texting.

Fine. I didn’t want to talk to him anyway.

I glanced over at the Steddelbeckers, but they seemed to be arguing over what kind of soda to purchase. From the looks of it, they might be there a while.

As I tried to think of something more to ask Todd, I heard a truck horn. I looked toward the sound and saw Crusher motoring across the lot toward me. He made a U-turn, pulled up near the building, and leaned out the driver’s-side window, gesturing to me to join him.

The Steddelbeckers were still in the middle of what appeared to be a Pepsi versus Dr. Pepper debate. I trotted to Crusher’s truck.

He ran a hand through his blond hair. “I don’t know how you found out about my practice, but I definitely appreciate the show of support, especially with this being my last day and all.”

I jerked my head toward the Steddelbeckers. “Actually, I’m here to look at some tractors. So are you heading back to San Diego tomorrow, or are you off to another monster truck rally?”

“Home to San Diego. I don’t want to compete again until I’ve signed some deals. I’m not giving my kind of talent away for free.”

How quickly commercialism entered the picture. But after losing sponsors before, Crusher probably wanted to lock them in while he could.

Crusher flashed that grin that could thaw a walk-in freezer. “I figured I’d practice that trick a few more times to make sure it was perfect before I head out tomorrow. Why don’t you skip the tractors and come watch me?”

Not a bad idea. If he was heading out in the morning, this might be my last chance to get some insight into his knowledge of Bobby Joe. Plus, it might be fun. I glanced at the Steddelbeckers, who had apparently settled on their drink selection and were now trying to feed a dollar bill into the machine. Gordon had only said I needed to drive them to the fairgrounds, not babysit them once we got here.

“Let me show those two where the tractors are located, then I’ll break away,” I told Crusher.

“Great, that’ll give me time to suit up. See you at the track.” He drove toward the other end of the lot.

I returned to the sidewalk, glancing at Todd’s truck as I went by. He was still engrossed in his phone and didn’t look up. Or else he pretended not to notice me.

At the soda machine, I took the dollar bill from Darlene and stuck it into the slot. The dollar disappeared.

“Guess I smoothed that out for you,” Darlene commented.

After we’d inserted more dollars and purchased their drinks, I walked the pair behind the building and into a fenced area. The large enclosure was full of dusty tractors, parts, and plow equipment. Not much to look at, from my perspective, but I saw Darlene smile for the first time since I’d met her.

“Look at all these treasures. Why, I feel right at home.”

“Yup, yup,” Horace said. “Best part of the trip, by far.”

If I’d known they liked tractors so much, I could have left them here all weekend. “Guess you two have lots to look at. I’m going to run over to the arena for a few minutes.”

Horace and Darlene showed no response as they fondled a fender together, so I headed back across the parking lot, which was at least the length of a football field. With the sun beating down, I felt like I was crossing the Sahara.

By the time I found an open gate outside the arena and stepped into the dirt enclosure, Crusher was already dressed in his jumpsuit, helmet in hand. His monster truck sat in the middle of the circle. He must have parked his regular truck around back.

“I can’t wait for you to see me practice.”

His enthusiasm was contagious, and I couldn’t help but smile. “I really enjoyed watching you at the rally on Saturday night.”

He reached out and took one of my hands in his. I resisted the impulse to pull my hand away from this unexpected gesture.

“I’m not used to girls who don’t fall all over me,” he said. “The way you ran away after our date, you made it pretty clear you’re not into me.”

“It’s not you, it’s me,” I blurted out, then winced. This wasn’t even a breakup, and it still sounded trite. “What I mean is that I’m already seeing someone, someone I care about.” Even if we butted heads sometimes.

Crusher released my hand. “I was hoping for one more chance to impress you with my trick, but I guess I’d be wasting my time.”

Ugh, I hated turning guys down, especially when I’d only gone out with Crusher for information. “I’d still love to see you practice.” As an added bonus, that’d give me more time away from the Steddelbeckers.

Crusher offered another smile, though it wasn’t as radiant as the others, and donned his helmet. He climbed into the truck cab, and a moment later, the engine roared to life. The truck lurched into motion and sped across the dirt. I watched as he did a series of jumps, followed by a doughnut, amazed at the difference my new perspective made.

When I’d been sitting in the stands on Saturday night, watching the trucks perform had been much like watching them on TV, only louder. Down on the floor, level with the enormous truck, the experience was downright terrifying. Those giant inflated tires could squash a man flat without even slowing the truck down.

After another doughnut, Crusher drove to the far end of the track and sat for a moment. Was the big trick coming? Was he psyching himself up?

As I watched, the truck raced forward, gaining speed as it approached the ramp. I waited for him to ease off the gas as he went up the incline, but he never slowed down.

The truck went airborne. It soared to impossible heights for such a heavy machine, then dropped back down and landed with a heavy bounce. The truck tipped on two wheels and fell over on its side, then onto its roof.

The momentum carried the truck forward a few yards before it rolled back up on the other two wheels. After a moment, the truck righted itself completely. I wasn’t a monster truck fan, but even I felt my mouth drop open as I watched.

Crusher braked and killed the engine. He jumped from the cab and removed his helmet, his gaze never leaving my face as he trotted toward me. He was obviously waiting for me to rip off my clothes and throw myself on him. But my amazement had turned to confusion. That trick seemed so familiar. Where had I seen it before?

Crusher clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Well, what did you think? That’s the best trick you’ve ever seen, right?”

I nodded slowly, still searching my memory archives. “I can see why the scout was so excited. It’s just that I’ve seen that somewhere. Only in drawing form. It was at . . .” I slammed my mouth shut before I could finish the sentence.

I’d suddenly remembered where I’d seen the sketch. On Bobby Joe’s desk the night I’d searched his room.

So why was Crusher the one performing the trick?