Deadly Row to Hoe Page 10

  “Sophie Mae …”

  “It completely fits, is all I’m saying. Hey, what about Daphne? She could be in real danger. And she doesn’t know what happened to Nate. I’d better go tell her.”

  “No, I’d better go tell her.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she’s a suspect.”

  “And a possible victim,” I insisted. “If Hallie went wacko enough to hit both Darla and Nate over the head, she might try it with his real girlfriend, too.”

  “True,” Barr said. “I’ll certainly warn her to be careful.”

  “And ask her a bunch of questions. I think I’d better go with you.”

  “Well …”

  “Go ahead and take her,” Sergeant Zahn said from behind us. “Maybe Ms. Sparks will be more forthcoming with your bride along.”

  Barr smiled at me and shook his head. “I can’t say he’s wrong. Let’s go.”

  I smiled back. “Can you drop me back here when we’re done, or should I take my own car?”

  “I’ll drop you.”

  Glancing over my shoulder, I saw yellow tape cordoning off the popcorn field. All that bright ribbon around the farm lent an air of morbid festivity. I could only hope this was the last of it. I followed Barr to the parking lot.

  As I was transferring my tote bag to his car, Allie and Tom came hurrying up from the house. She pulled a resistant Clarissa behind her. It was obvious they were making a beeline for us, so we waited, Barr almost tapping the pointy toe of his cowboy boot in impatience. Then I saw Tom was carrying a duffel bag, and felt a twist of dread.

  It was bright pink.

  Sure enough, when they reached us Allie said, “We have a huge favor to ask of you.”

  Clarissa glared at her mother. Then at me. Tom put his hand on her shoulder, but she’d regained her composure and shrugged it off.

  “Honey,” he said. “It’s for your own good.” Then he looked between Barr and me. “We were wondering if Clarissa could stay with you for a few days. Just until we know why two people have been attacked here on the farm. Her mother and I can’t leave, of course, but we want her to be safe.” He gave an apologetic grimace. “Clarissa doesn’t know that many other girls, and she likes Erin a lot. Besides, we figure Detective Ambrose’s house is bound to be one of the safest places in town.”

  I looked up at Barr. He looked down at me. We both looked at Clarissa, who refused to look at us.

  Barr said, “I think that’s a good idea. Do you have all your stuff, Clarissa?”

  She sighed, long and hard. “I guess.”

  “Okay, then.” I forced a bright note into my voice. “Erin’s going to be so excited!”

  Meghan, on the other hand, was going to kill me.

  Seventeen

  Our surprise houseguest threw a potential monkey wrench into our plans. I called Meghan, but she didn’t answer her phone. That likely meant she was with a client. I didn’t know what the rest of her massage schedule was for the morning, either—our usual routine for keeping track of each other’s coming and goings had gone right out the window as soon as people started getting whacked upside their heads.

  “Dang it,” I said under my breath. Retrieving my tote from the department’s nondescript undercover sedan, I dropped my phone into it and turned to Barr. “Clarissa and I had better go straight to the house. I guess you’re on your own with Daphne.”

  “How about I meet you at home,” he said. “Meghan might just be in the backyard. Or Cyan can watch her.”

  “No one needs to watch me!” Clarissa protested. Her parents exchanged glances.

  “We always watch each other at our house,” I said firmly. “No one goes wandering off on their own, either. It’s one of the rules.” I emphasized the last word.

  Tom looked relieved, but worry continued to crease Allie’s forehead.

  Clarissa’s lower lip crept out. “Rules.” Disgust dripped from the word. “Then where’s Erin right now?”

  “Clarissa, please don’t be mad,” Allie said. “Like Daddy said, it’s for your own good.”

  Her daughter shrugged.

  Oh, boy. The next few days were going to be fun. “We’ll find out where she is when we get home.” My smile didn’t quite make it to my eyes, and my next words didn’t sound quite as friendly as I’d hoped. “Now, get in the car.”

  She shot me a surprised look but climbed into the passenger seat of the Rover. I got in the other side and slid the key into the ignition. Tom tossed her duffel in the back and leaned his elbows on the open window frame beside her. “I don’t want to hear that you’ve misbehaved. I want you to be polite and to do what you’re told.”

  She opened her mouth, but he quickly shook his head. “No. You’ve been getting away with a lot around here lately, and it’s going to stop. These folks are doing us a huge favor in order to keep you safe. You will not cop an attitude. You will be helpful and pleasant and do as you’re asked. And you’ll answer to me if I hear differently.”

  Clarissa gaped at her father.

  “Tom …” Allie trailed off.

  I realized how tired she looked, like the last few days had wrung the spark right out of her. She was an empty husk, unable to stand up to either her daughter or her husband. I had a sudden urge to hug her, while at the same time I wanted to shake some backbone into her.

  But I didn’t want to distract Clarissa after her father’s admonitions. Best be on our way.

  “Seat belt?” I asked.

  Silent, she fastened it.

  “All righty then. Here we go.”

  I waved at Tom and Allie. After a moment’s hesitation Clarissa did, too.

  _____

  At the house I pulled up behind a black Lexus. Barr’s department car was across the street, but he had beaten me home and gone inside already. A blond-haired, blue-eyed guy who looked like he belonged on the cover of a torrid romance exited the front door, gave me a friendly nod, and slid into the Lexus. Clarissa and I got out of the Rover as it drove away.

  “Who was that?” she asked.

  “One of Meghan’s clients, I’m sure.” For the first time I wondered whether Kelly ever minded that his girlfriend made her living by rubbing naked people. She was a consummate professional, of course, devoted to making people feel better. And she loved her work, so much that she’d given up her career as a lawyer in order to do it. But I didn’t know how understanding I’d be if Barr spent a few hours every day running greasy hands over other women.

  Did that make me sexist? Oh, well.

  We found Barr in the kitchen, rummaging through the cupboard. It was already lunchtime.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked Clarissa. She shook her head, stopped, shrugged one shoulder.

  “I’ll make some sandwiches,” Barr said. “Meghan’s in her office.”

  I nodded and took a deep breath. My best friend wasn’t fond of surprises. Bracing, I went to update her on the morning’s developments.

  She was sitting at her desk jotting notes in a client file when I walked in.

  “Um,” I said.

  She looked up. “Um?” Then she really focused on my face and her expression became wary. “Um, what.” Her voice was flat.

  “Um, you know how I was out at the farm this morning?”

  “Yes.”

  “And how Barr was going to talk to Nate Snow?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I found Nate. Someone hit him in the head. Zahn said it was probably a shovel. Anyway, I found him in the popcorn, unconscious, and the ambulance took him to the hospital. I don’t know how bad it is, but it doesn’t sound good. I want to go with Barr to tell Daphne. She’s going to be pretty upset—unless she’s the one who hit him, of course. Barr says she’s a suspect. Anyway, Clarissa came home with me, and she’s going to stay with us until we find out who’s attacking people at the farm.”

  Meghan blinked.

  I barreled on. “Tom and Allie asked if she could—they’re scared, you know—and Barr thought
it would be a good idea, so I said okay and now she’s in the kitchen and Barr is making sandwiches. Do you want one?”

  She stared at me, and I could sense her careful deep breaths as she considered all the information I’d thrown at her. “Yes, please,” she finally said.

  “Where’s Erin?”

  “At Zoe’s.”

  “Okay. So we’re going to grab a bite and then Barr and I are heading over to Daphne’s. Do you have another client soon?”

  She took another breath. “You are amazing. I love you to death, but sometimes I just want to strangle you.”

  “I know.”

  “But I can see why the Turners would want Clarissa to stay somewhere else for a while. We’ll make it work.” She stood.

  I gave her a quick hug. “You’re getting better at rolling with the punches.”

  “Or better at faking it.” She flipped the file on her desk closed. “I don’t have another client until three o’clock. Can you be back by then?”

  “Absolutely.”

  A pile of sandwiches awaited us in the kitchen. Peanut butter and different kinds of preserves. Clarissa nibbled on the corner of one, and Barr was slugging a glass of milk. It didn’t look as if they were having much of a conversation. I threw a look at Meghan that was part gratitude and part apology and opened the door at the head of the stairs. I heard a giggle below.

  “Girls? There are sandwiches up here if you’re hungry.”

  “Thanks!” Cyan called. “We’ll be right up.”

  At least I’d brought in some reinforcements for Meghan. Grabbing half a sandwich dripping with cherry jam and wrapping it in a paper towel, I raised my eyebrows at Barr.

  “I’ve eaten,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  _____

  “Is there a plan?” I asked around a big sticky bite of sandwich.

  Barr puttered along at the sedate Cadyville speed limit of twenty-five miles an hour. “Nah. We’re pretty good at this by now.”

  I sat back, pleased at his words. I was not so pleased, however, that I hadn’t thought to bring anything to drink. All that peanut butter made me want to lick the roof of my mouth over and over like a dog.

  And when I reached for Barr’s water bottle it was, of course, empty.

  Great.

  The last time I’d been to Daphne Sparks’ apartment her roommate had been murdered. It turned out they hadn’t exactly been best friends, so she’d been able to weather the bad news fairly well. Still, it’s disturbing to know someone you lived with died at the hand of another. Nate wasn’t dead, of course, and they didn’t live together, but I suspected this time Daphne wouldn’t respond with such aplomb.

  Barr pulled into the parking lot of a twelve-plex on the corner of Maple and Pine Streets. It was painted a peachy orange with green and maroon trim. Each balcony railing was lined with a long planter box. A profusion of red petunias tumbled from one, another held white geraniums and purple verbena, yet another boasted spiky grasses surrounded by dark purple and lime-green sweet potato vine. I was pleased to see that two renters had filled their tiny growing spaces with cherry tomatoes, tiny peppers, and baby lettuce. And one, on the second floor at the end, spilled over with all manner of herbs.

  We got out, and I pointed at the apartment with the herb farm. “That’s Daphne’s.” She lived alone, having given up on roommates after the last fiasco.

  “If she’s not here, she’s probably in class,” I said. Then it occurred to me she might have gone to the Turner farm. I crossed my fingers, hoping she hadn’t.

  My flip-flops flip-flopped up the wooden steps. Barr knocked on the metal door. Within seconds Daphne flung it open. Even taller than my husband, she towered over me.

  She greeted us with, “What’s wrong?” Her porcelain skin had taken on a new dimension of pale.

  “Can we come in?” Barr asked.

  She stepped back from the door with alacrity, gesturing us inside. “It’s about Nate, isn’t it?”

  “Why do you say that?” Barr said, all official-like as we entered the apartment.

  Oh, brother. Couldn’t he see the frantic worry in her eyes?

  “I’ve been trying to call him all morning, but he hasn’t answered. He never does that. And he was supposed to call me last night and didn’t. I even called the farm a while ago, but Hallie answered.” She made a face. “She hung up on me!”

  “What time was that?” Barr asked.

  “About ten. I’ve already skipped two classes. I was about to go out there.” She turned to me. “Sophie Mae? Do you know what’s going on?”

  I glanced at Barr, then back at her. “Let’s sit down.” That seemed to worry her even more, and I put my hand on her arm. She looked down at it like she didn’t know what it was.

  “Nate’s in the hospital,” I said.

  Slowly, she sank down onto the overstuffed sofa. I sat beside her. Barr remained standing, looking around at the profusion of medicinal and culinary plants that inhabited every horizontal surface. The air vibrated with herbal scents—lavender and rosemary the most pungent. I only hoped they would calm her now.

  “What happened?” she asked, obviously dreading the answer. “Did she hurt him?”

  “Who?” Barr asked before I could open my mouth.

  Daphne looked up at him. “Hallie.” Her attention switched to me. “You saw how she was last night.”

  “I did,” I said slowly.

  “Well, what does he say?”

  I could feel Barr watching. Well, this was why I’d insisted on coming. “Nate couldn’t tell us what happened. See, he was struck on the head.”

  A sharp intake of breath.

  “But he’s okay?”

  “Well, he’s unconscious, honey.”

  She sprang to her feet. “I have to get to the hospital. Is it the one in Monroe?”

  I stood, too. “Everett. Now slow down.”

  “But he needs me!” She ran into the bedroom and emerged with her purse. Keys jangled in her hand as she opened the front door.

  “Daphne,” I said.

  She turned with an impatient look.

  “You might want to take something to read.”

  She stared, then nodded once. “Yeah.” She scooped up an organic chemistry textbook and a notebook from the sofa and jammed them into a backpack, followed by a laptop case. Slinging it over her shoulder, she picked up a small French lavender plant covered with blooms. In response to my questioning look she said, “It’s good for the soul. Nate will need that.”

  Barr reached for the door. “Are you okay to drive?”

  “I’ll be fine,” she said.

  “Be careful,” he said. “And watchful. Pay attention to your surroundings, and stay around other people as much as possible. And absolutely do not go out to the Turner farm.”

  That stopped her in her tracks. “What are you saying?”

  “Be careful,” he repeated.

  I could see how he watched her, assessing, judging.

  She took a shaky breath. “Are you going to arrest Hallie?”

  “We’re still investigating the crime. Crimes,” he amended.

  Frustration and anger pinched her features. “She’ll be sorry if she comes after me.”

  So much for relying on karma to take care of business.

  “Um, do you mind if I get a quick drink of water?” I asked.

  “Knock yourself out. Just make sure that’s locked before you go?” She indicated the knob in Barr’s hand and then clattered down the stairs to her VW Jetta without waiting for an answer.

  As the engine started up and the car exited onto Maple toward Second Street, Barr turned and looked at me. “Nice job.”

  “You mean telling her about Nate before you had a chance to ask her any questions? Sorry.” I threaded my way to the open kitchen at the back of the apartment. I found a glass, ran cold tap water into it, and gulped it down. Bliss.

  He followed. “No, I mean gaining her verbal permission to be in her apartment without he
r being here.”

  But I was concentrating on washing down the sticky peanut butter sandwich. When his words sank in, I poked my husband in the ribs with my index finger.

  He flinched.

  “Oh, come on,” I said. “Do you think she faked all that?”

  Brown eyes blinked slowly down at me. “Not really.”

  “Not really? So you think she might have? Why? What possible motive would that poor girl have to hurt her boyfriend?”

  “The same one the woman she accused—Hallie—would have. Jealousy.”

  My lips parted. “So you think she faked her reaction just now? That she hit him in the head with a shovel herself, after doing the same thing to Darla Klick, all because she believes Nate and Darla were old flames?”

  “Or maybe not-so-old flames.”

  I shook my head. “It’s possible, I suppose. Seems to me like she’s the only sane one in the bunch, though, especially after talking with her and Nate last night.” Though come to think of it, she had been strangely eager to tell me Nate knew Darla. Had she been trying to throw suspicion on him for something she had done? Was she really that clever … and evil?

  “And if she was the one who hurt him, should she even be at the hospital with him?” I asked Barr, who was now circling the apartment, looking everywhere but not touching. “Oh, wait a minute. Seriously? You’re searching her apartment?”

  He hesitated, gazing with tangible longing at the closed drawers in a desk in the corner.

  “Lord love a duck. Do you think Daphne would leave a police detective in her apartment if she was hiding something nefarious here?”

  The corners of his lips turned up. “You may be right. Criminals can be pretty stupid, though.”

  I didn’t think Daphne was at all stupid. That didn’t mean she wasn’t hiding something, mind you, but I doubted it would be in her apartment.

  “Okay, then. WWZD?” I asked.

  His look was quizzical.

  “What would Zahn do?”

  That produced a sigh. “He’d get a warrant.” Suddenly he reached out and tousled my already messy hair.

  “Stop that!”

  Grinning, he opened the door again and stepped outside. “Funny that you’d be the one to talk me out of tossing the place. Usually I’d be the one warning you off.”