The Final Tap (16 page)

“I told you, they didn't see anything. My boys keep to themselves. They have no interest in the history you spout over there at the Farm.”

I didn't doubt the Hooper boys' lack of historical interest. “If I—”

“I said no,” she snapped. Spittle flew from her mouth.

“One of my staff members,” I said, not giving up, “saw them on the grounds, and we had an incident of vandalism in the garden.”

“Don't you be accusing my boys of vandalism.” She jumped out of her seat.

“I'm not,” I said. “But they might have seen something, either at the spot where Dr. Beeson fell or in the garden.”

She shook her empty coffee mug at me. “I won't have you coming here accusing my sons of trespassing on the Farm. You have no right. It's time for you to leave.”

I stood and followed her to the door. Laura was already outside. So much for backup.

I stepped over the threshold and turned to face Pansy. “Why don't you come to the Maple Sugar Festival tomorrow to see what it's like? No charge. You're welcome to attend free as our neighbor. I think once you see all the good the Farm does and all we have to offer the community, you'll feel differently about it.”

“You think wrong,” she said and slammed the door in my face.

Laura was halfway to the car by the time I reached the porch steps. I jogged to catch up with her. “I thought you were supposed to be my backup.”

“Sure. I have your back, but I prefer to do it ten yards away from that nutcase. The woman is deranged. Did you see all those jars? I bet they weren't her father's at all. My money is on them being hers.”

My shoulders drooped. “It doesn't matter. This whole trip was a waste of time. Pansy is madder at the Farm than ever, and I didn't learn anything new.”

Laura patted me on the arm. “Cheer up. At least you can prove with all those jars that she's crazy in case she ever takes you to court.”

“How can that possibly make me feel better?”

When we were back in the car, Laura buckled her seat belt. “What are you going to do about the Hoopers now?”

“Sic Detective Brandon on them. If Pansy Hooper doesn't like me coming around, she's going to hate Candy Brandon.”

Laura grinned. “I'd love to see that
match-up
.”

“Me too.” I started the car, and my headlights caught a form standing in the woods.

Laura screamed. “It's a ghost.”

The figure dissolved into the trees.

I placed a hand on my heart and willed it back behind my sternum. “That wasn't a ghost. It was one of Pansy's sons.”

Laura shivered. “My mind it made up. The Hoopers are behind the murder.”

“But why? What would be the motive? They don't even know Dr. Beeson.”

“I don't have all the answers, but the fact they give me the creeps is reason enough.” Laura leaned back in her seat as if the case were closed.

I sighed and turned the car onto the road.

twenty-seven

That night, I walked
around my little cottage, picking up the toys and books Hayden had left scattered around the house and missing him desperately. The truth was, eighty percent of the time I got him to myself. As the custody arrangement stood now, Eddie got Hayden two weekends a month and two full weeks during the summer, plus alternating major holidays. Since our divorce, the arrangement had always worked for us. Now that he was getting married, Eddie wanted to change that. I still blamed Eddie for the sudden shift. No matter what Laura said, I didn't think Krissie was the villain in this situation. A little voice in the back of my head told me that I shouldn't blame anyone. As long as Hayden was happy and felt settled, that's all that mattered.

Frankie hissed at me from his perch on the arm of the couch. Then he jumped down, picked up one of Hayden's Matchbox cars in his mouth, and sauntered in the direction of the utility room where his cat box was.

“Frankie!” I warned. “Don't you dare put that in your litter box.”

He swished his tail and kept going. That wouldn't be fun to fish out later, but I wasn't going to wrestle him for it. I wasn't in the mood for to go four rounds with Frankie tonight. The trip to the Hooper place to reason with Pansy Hooper had been a mistake. All that I'd accomplished was making her more suspicious of the Farm, and I'd practically accused her sons of being the culprits for the vandalism in the garden. Even though I was certain the boys were behind it, my accusations had only deepened the rift between us. I didn't believe Pansy would really take the Farm to court over the noise issues; she didn't have the means. However, that didn't mean she wouldn't try to make things difficult for me and all the Farm employees.

Tiffin jumped up from his dog bed and growled at the front door.

I stared at him. Tiff was usually a mellow corgi. I'd never seen him behave this way. One of the reasons why he was such a good dog to have on the Farm was that he never met a person he didn't like. I couldn't have a dog running loose that would growl and bark every time someone new visited.

Tiffin growled again. This time, the noise came from deep in this throat as if he was pulling it from his very core.

“Tiff, is there someone outside?”

Bang! Something from outside hit the side of the cottage. I jumped.

Tiffin ran to the front door, barking his head off. I threw the door open. “Who's out there?”

Tiffin stood right in front of me.

I blinked under the porch light, wishing that I had something else to see by. “Who's out there?”

There was laughter.

I clenched my teeth. “Scott and Shaun Hooper? I know it's you!”

The Hooper boys materialized out of the trees and moved toward the cottage with a slouching gait. Even though I knew that Scott, at seventeen, was the older of the two by at least a year, the boys could have been twins. They were both over six feet and walked with a slight slump, as if they even found walking to be a chore. I remained on the porch and glared at them. I'd never been so grateful in my life that Hayden was with his father.

“What did you throw at the cottage?” I asked, taking care to keep my voice level.

Now, in the light, I could see Scott's face clearly. “Who said we threw anything?”

“Something hit the side of the cottage,” I snapped.

Shaun brushed his long bangs out of his eyes. “Maybe it was some sort of animal, like a deer?”

“I bet it was a raccoon,” Scott said. “They're always making a racket over at our place.”

“Could be. Or maybe an opossum,” Shaun said thoughtfully. He gave me an appraising look. “Those can be vicious.”

I gripped the doorknob and willed myself to relax. “What are you two doing here? The Farm is closed. You shouldn't be here.”

“This is all part of the park,” Scott said. “Aren't we allowed in a public park?”

“Not after dark. The park closes at dusk, not to mention that Barton Farm is no more a part of the park than your home is. It's private property.”

“We just thought we'd drop in for a neighborly visit,” Shaun said. “We need to chat.”

“We can chat in the morning. It's late.”

Tiffin, growling at my feet, agreed with me.

Scott took a step back. “Your dog better not bite me.”

“Then don't come any closer. He'll take a chunk out of you if he has to,” I said, even though I knew Tiffin would never bite anyone.

Shaun glared at me. “We heard that you were on our land today. You can't be coming around upsetting our mom like you did.”

His brother nodded. “She told us you said we were causing trouble on Barton Farm.”

“Aren't you?” I challenged.

“If we were the ones causing trouble, you wouldn't have to wonder. You'd know it.” Scott smirked.

“It's pointless to talk about this,” I said. “I know you're the ones who trampled Shepley's garden. Just go home.”

Scott laughed. “You're too little to make us do anything that we don't want.”

“Get out of here before I call the police,” I snapped.

Shaun took a step toward me. “Do you think the police can do anything about it? They'd have to prove we were here, and they can't.”

His brother nodded. “You have even more people wandering around your precious Farm when you don't know it. We aren't your problem.”

A chill ran down my back. “Like who?”

“A killer,” Scott said in a
matter-of
-fact tone.

I shivered. This was my chance to find out if the boys had seen anything yesterday, which was why I'd gone to their house in the first place. Now I might get an answer if I could tolerate them for a few more minutes.

“Did you see something?” I asked them.

“We always see something,” Shaun said. “There's not much that happens around here that we miss. We know all about your maple sugaring and the people coming and going.”

“What did you see?” I wanted to get the boys back on track with the murder.

“Just cause we know something doesn't mean we have to tell you. We don't owe you anything,” Scott said in a sullen tone.

“If you tell me, I won't press charges for the vandalism.”

They laughed as if that was the funniest thing they'd ever heard. Clearly the Hooper boys didn't consider vandalism charges as much of a threat.

“Did you have something to do with Dr. Beeson's death? Is that why you won't say anything?” I asked, refusing to give up.

Scott glared at me. “You aren't going to pin that on us. We don't have anything to do with a murder. We don't do that.”

“That's right,” his brother agreed.

“Prove it, then, by telling me what you know.”

“It's not that easy.” Scott punched his brother in the arm.

“Ow.” Shaun winced.

“Let's go,” Scott said to his brother. “I'm bored with this.”

Shaun looked at me. “Stay away from our home. You're not wanted.” With that, they both turned to go.

“I would,” I called after them, “if you would return the favor!”

The pair disappeared into the trees. I waited under the porch light until I couldn't hear them moving through the forest anymore.

I stepped back into the house and closed the door. I turned the bolt to locked and leaned against the door, taking a few gulping breaths. The Hooper boys were delinquents but harmless. At least I'd always thought so. Now I wasn't as sure.

Tiffin looked up at me with concerned brown eyes. Frankie was even back from burying Hayden's toy in his litter box. He stood on the back of the couch with his striped back arched in Halloween cat pose.

I knew that I needed to call the police. The Hooper boys had seen something the day Beeson was attacked.

There was a pound on the door and I jumped across the room. “Who's there?”

“Kelsey?” a tentative voice said through the door.

Tiffin barked at the door, but the edge he'd had earlier was gone.

I unlocked the door and opened it. “Jason?”

Jason stood in front of me. His eyes were twice there normal size. “I heard yelling and came over to make sure you were okay.”

I blinked at him. Jason running to my rescue was more than I would expect from my reclusive farmhand. “Come in from the cold.” I stepped back.

He shuffled into the cottage and looked around like he wasn't sure what to do with himself now that he was inside my home. It was his first time being there. Although Hayden and I had invited him to dinner many times, he'd always refused.

“Have a seat on the couch.” I pointed to the sofa.” You're shivering. I'll make some tea to warm you up.”

Frankie glared at him with his one good eye and, to my amazement, began to purr. I blinked at the cat. Jason walked over to him and stroked his back. Frankie's purrs increased tenfold.

“If I didn't already know that you have a special way with animals, I would now. Frankie hates everyone except for my son.” I paused. “And I guess you.”

Jason sat on the edge of the couch. Frankie leapt onto the cushion and sat next to him. He didn't jump into his lap, but he did snuggle up next to Jason's leg. I stood there with my mouth hanging open. Still in wonderment, I turned to make the tea.

I set the kettle to boil and waited. As I did, I mulled over my options. Now that Jason was here, I was less inclined to call the police about what had just happened. If there was a police report about the Hooper boys, it would give Eddie more ammunition to change the custody agreement. He could claim that I didn't have Hayden in a safe environment. Barton Farm had been perfectly safe before Milton Hooper's descendants had moved into his old home.

Jason seemed to be fine with the quiet. Unlike many people, he never felt the need to fill the empty air with idle talk. I usually did, but not when Jason was around. It was too much of a fight to get him to answer back, so I only spoke when I was in need of important information.

The kettle whistled, and I poured the hot water over the tea bags in two waiting mugs. I carried the mugs back to the living room and held one out. Frankie growled deep in his throat as I handed Jason the mug.

Jason made a clicking sound with his tongue and the cat went back to purring. I sat in the armchair across the couch. “You really have a way with animals. How did you do that?”

“I'm not a threat,” he said.

“I'm not a threat either.” I cradled my mug in my hands. “I feed him and clean his litter box. I would pet him if he let me.”

Jason shook his head. “Frankie wants respect. Some cats—just like people—need that. Do you respect Frankie or tolerate him? I bet if you started looking at him differently, he would come around.”

I raised my eyebrows. I'd never expected such deep thoughts from my usually silent farmhand. I wished Laura and Benji were around to hear it. Then they would know there was more to Jason than just being a loner.

He changed the subject. “Was someone here?” He held the mug of tea in one hand and scratched Frankie behind the ear with the other.

“Scott and Shaun Hooper. They were just being loud. I don't think they hurt anything.”

Jason stared into his tea. “I should have come as soon as I heard the noise. I was in the barn, checking the animals one final time before I went to my trailer for the night, when I heard shouts coming from this side of the street.”

It was a miracle that Jason had tried to come to my rescue. When faced with a decision, his inclination had always been flight rather than fight, at least up until now.

He stared into his tea. “I didn't want what happened to that man, Dr. Beeson, to happen to you,” he said with an air of embarrassment. “I keep thinking maybe I could have helped him too.”

“But you told me that you didn't hear anything the day Dr. Beeson was attacked.”

Jason wouldn't meet my eyes. “I know that's what I told you, but it was untrue. I heard some yelling that morning.”

“You did?” I asked.

“I was on this side of Maple Grove Lane when the professor fell.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“Were you checking on the oxen?” It was the only reason I could think of why Jason would cross the street while guests were at the Farm.

He shook his head.

“Or the team of horses pulling the sleigh?”

He shook his head again and managed a small “no.”

“Then what?” I was trying to be patient, but I felt like I had to pry information out of him with a crowbar.

“I was looking for Scott and Shaun Hooper. I was in the barn and saw them run across the street into the trees north of the pasture. I just knew they were up to no good.” He paused. “So I decided to follow them.”

“You followed them?” This was hard to believe.

He met my gaze for the first time. “I knew you would be busy with the school visits coming. I never thought they would kill someone.”

I grew very still. “You saw them kill Dr. Beeson?”

He shook his head. “No. But right after I stepped into the forest, I heard them come crashing back in my direction. I jumped behind a bush so they wouldn't see me. They were running so fast you would have thought they'd seen one of the Farm's ghosts.”

“The Farm doesn't have ghosts,” I said automatically, considering everything Jason had said. This had been a long speech for him, so I waited a few moments before asking the questions on the tip of my tongue. “Why didn't you tell me this when I visited you at the barn this morning?”

He wrapped both hands around his mug. He'd yet to take a sip from it. “I wanted to, but I thought the boys would be careful and stay away from the Farm. I never expected them to come back that night. I knew when they trampled Shepley's garden that they must be dumber than anyone thought. Wouldn't they want to lie low if they'd killed someone? I just wanted them to leave the Farm alone.”