Dandelion Dead (29 page)

“Why do you have Lily listed? We know that she didn't do it.”

“Just to be thorough, keep reading.”

“Did I forget anyone?”

“I don't think so, but what does OH mean?”

“ ‘On hand,' meaning they had poison-hemlock plants on their property or had access to it.”

“One other thing: Camille and Carter Crocker, Ivy Lord and Ramsey Black, and Kurt and Walter Farmer could have worked together or acted alone.”

“True,” Jackson said. “Oh, wait. Should we include Leonard Sims on the list?”

“Probably, since he wanted Pure back, but I don't think that Derek Mortimer should be on here. His vineyard is way back in the pack, and he doesn't have much of a motive.” I handed the pad back to Jackson.

He scribbled out Mortimer's name and info, flipped the page, and added Sims's.

“Okay, Mortimer is out, and Sims is in.” Jackson handed me the pad. “So who did it, Miss Fletcher?”

“Ha, ha.” I gave him a smile, got into bed with the pad, and snuggled up next to him. We examined the
names and each person's motive, means, and opportunity together. “We also need to keep in mind that we don't know if the person or persons sending the nasty texts and e-mails and whoever attacked David are the same people.”

“It's also possible that there are three possibilities: whoever tried to kill Amy, whoever is attacking David since her death, and whoever is sending the messages.”

“I just don't see how we are going to figure this out. And we have to, for Lily's sake.”

“Yes, but going for the jugular with Kurt Farmer, Ramsey Black, and Carter Crocker didn't yield much. Maybe we should have taken a more subtle approach.”

“We don't have time to be subtle. We need answers.”

“What we need,” Jackson said. “Is a break. Once that happens, the rest should fall into place.”

“Maybe we need to just clear our minds for now and go to sleep.” I leaned over and gave him a kiss. “We might get answers while we're dreaming. I've had that happen before.”

Jackson dropped the pad on the floor, put the pen on the nightstand, and pulled me close. “I've got a much better idea.”

•  •  •

It seemed as if a
good night's sleep and fun between the sheets had been good for both of us. We woke up early Sunday morning feeling clearheaded and ready for action. After we showered and got dressed in jeans, T-shirts, sweatshirts, and boots, we headed downstairs
with the dogs for breakfast and to plan our day. We were due at Pure at noon, but since Tad was on deck again, I had the freedom this morning to try to find answers.

Happily, Merrily had the fixings for more pumpkin pancakes, so after Tad served us, Jackson and I sat down at the table near the window and enjoyed them—and gave tiny tidbits to the dogs as well. We were just finishing up when my cell phone buzzed. “It's Simon. I'll put it on speaker since no one is here.”

“Hi, guys, just wanted to tell you that Lily has been released from jail.”

“That's good news,” I said, and it might give us a bit of breathing room to solve her case. “Where is she going?”

Jackson picked up our plates and took them into the kitchen. I mouthed,
Thanks
, and pointed to my cup. He nodded.

“Obviously, she can't leave the state and go to her parents' house in Boston, so they'll be at Wallace's house with his wife. They're headed to the hospital now, and then they'll go back there.”

Jackson came back with the coffee server and poured us both fresh cups of coffee. But when he sat down, he also had the packet of photos that I'd taken of the vineyard signs yesterday and began to go through them again.

“Okay, thanks, Simon,” I said. “I'll check in with Wallace and Lily in a few minutes. How is David today?” Jackson continued to go through the photos. I mouthed,
What are you doing?

“Looking for a break.”

“What?”

“No, go ahead, Simon.” I picked up the photos Jackson had discarded of Crocker Cellars and St. Ives Estate Vineyards. He shook his head.

“David's arm is really bothering him, so I suggested he take a pain pill and go back to bed. We're not opening until noon, so he has time. He won't be up to staying the whole time anyway, especially with the judging tonight, but he wants to show his face.”

“We'll be there at noon,” I said, to keep an eye on David and everyone else.

“What are you doing this morning? I know that you're not just sitting there. Or are you busy at the store?”

“I think I found something,” Jackson said.

“Simon, hold on for a minute.” I turned to Jackson. “What is it?”

He turned a photo of Farmer's Vineyard to show me the sign. “I think I see something, but I need to magnify it.”

“Simon, I'll call you back.” I ended the call, asked Merrily and Tad to look for something that could magnify parts of a photo, and went into my office. I came up empty, but when I came back out, Merrily, smiling, stood next to the counter, holding up Wallace's glasses. “Will these help? He told me that they magnify things one hundred and sixty percent. He uses them to read labels when he's stocking items.”

“They sure will, thanks.” I handed them to Jackson.

He smoothed the photo out on the table, then used the glasses to zero in on the barn behind the sign. “You see that?”

“I'm not sure.”

“Look closer.” He pointed to a large white sign with grapes leaning on the wall, inside the open barn door. “If I'm not mistaken, that's the sign that was in the background of the photo that was sent to David.”

“And if they did that,” I said. “Maybe they tried to kill David, too.”

We jumped into Jackson's truck
and took off for Farmer's Vineyard. We alerted Simon, but waited to call the police to be sure our hunch was correct. We arrived there ten minutes later, but again no one seemed to be home. Jackson parked on the street and we surveyed the property—for some reason, the barn door was now closed.

“These two could be dangerous,” Jackson said. “So I want you to follow my lead.” He reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a small handgun and put it in a case on his belt. “Even though it looks like they're not home, they could be here. So we'll use the neighbors' property to the left and cut over when we get to the front of the barn. You'll stay put and I'll go across to the door and check for the sign.” He grabbed his binoculars from the glove compartment, closed it, and looked at me. “In fact, you should really stay in the truck.”

“Forget it, I'm coming.” I held up my camera. “For proof. Let's go.” We got out of the truck, closed the doors quietly, and headed for the property of the
neighbors—who luckily weren't home either—while keeping an eye on the Farmers' property.

When we drew even with the front of the barn, we stepped over the property line and went over to the building. Jackson took out his binoculars and peered around the corner at the house. “I really don't think anyone is home. I'm going to check it out. You stay put.”

“But I want to see. And take photos.”

Jackson blew out a breath. “I told you this would get dangerous at some point, but you didn't listen.”

“I couldn't turn my back on Simon and David and Lily and Wallace.”

“I know, I know. At least let me get the door open and take a look first. Then I'll wave you in, okay?”

I nodded. “Okay.”

He used his binoculars to check out the house and grounds again before slowly stepping toward the barn door. I craned my head around the building and watched him as he reached the door, opened it, and went inside. He came back out, nodded, and took his gun out. He looked around again, then waved me in.

•  •  •

The inside of the barn
was dusty, dirty, and dank and filled with old farm equipment and a riding lawn mower. But the one thing it had in its favor was the brand-new Farmer's Vineyard sign, leaning against the wall, featuring a bunch of grapes on a white background.

“Kurt or Walter must have taken the photos they
sent to David, with this new sign in the background, and then realized their mistake too late,” I said as I snapped photos of the sign.

“But they didn't hide it well enough,” Jackson said.

“Is this enough to prove that they tried to kill David and killed Amy instead?”

“No, just harassment for now.” Jackson went to the door. “We need to get out of here and call the police.”

I snapped a few more photos, and we returned to the truck the way we'd come, with Jackson serving as lookout. When we got back inside and Jackson had pulled away from the vineyard, he said, “I wish there was a way to get these to the cops without them tracing it to us. Because they'll definitely give us a hard time about breaking into the barn. And if for some reason we're wrong, the Farmers could have us arrested for trespassing.”

“We could send them to Simon and he could forward them, maybe say that he got them anonymously.”

“Detective Koren won't believe that for one second. Check the police department website—maybe they have a place for tips and information.”

I found the website for the police and checked it for a way to send photos. “There's nothing here. But we could print the photos out and fax them over with a note. What do you think?”

“I like it.”

•  •  •

We returned to Nature's Way,
where I used Photoshop on the office computer to enlarge the section of the
photo that featured the new sign hidden in the barn as seen from the road and printed it out, along with two up-close photos of the sign in the barn, and attached all of them to single pieces of copy paper with a glue stick. Next, I printed out a note outlining our theory of why the new sign had been hidden.

After that, Jackson drove me to a busy drugstore two towns away, so I could fax all four pages to the police station. That done, we headed back to Jackson's house in East Marion with the dogs, so he could check on his animals and we could grab lunch before we headed over to Pure.

We arrived at Pure at noon on Sunday to find the parking lot jam-packed, kids jumping in a pink bouncy castle, and people dancing on the front lawn to the band playing a variety of songs. It felt strange to realize that it had only been a week since Amy's murder because so much had transpired since then.

We found a crowd inside, people who already had glasses of wine and others who were in line to get to the tasting room or the bar. We found Simon working quietly in his office, while David slept on the couch, his cast propped up on two pillows, and Tony kept watch at the door. He waved us in, but Simon got up and came over to us and we went back downstairs. “It's better that he sleeps,” Simon said. “We need him in good shape for the judging at Southwold Hall tonight.”

“If David is sleeping and you're with us, who's handling the tasting and the activities outside?” I said.

“Simple. Ivy is in the tasting room, Gerald's giving tours of the barn, and East End Events hired the band,
got the bouncy castle delivered, and the rest. You just have to delegate, that's all.”

“I see.” Jackson smiled. “Now why didn't I think of that?”

We walked over to the bar. “I'm so nervous about tonight that I can barely stand it. I need a drink.” Simon waved over the bartender and asked for a vodka and soda with a lime wedge, then looked at us. We both shook our heads no.

“Good job with that photo, Jackson,” Simon said, picking up his glass and walking over to the windows that overlooked the lawn. “That's pretty amazing. But I'll bet that Detective Koren won't like the fact that you were on the property.”