Give Em Pumpkin To Talk About (Pumpkin Patch Mysteries Book 1) (19 page)

Mace glanced at Jack. “I thought I heard a noise upstairs. I was checking for rats before I bring the new buyer out tomorrow.”

Jack and Sarah exchanged looks across the table.

“It’s possible,” she said.

“But doubtful,” Jack replied.

“Let me make you some hot tea for that throat,” she offered.

“I’m sorry,” Mace said to both of them. “I didn’t realize you were here. I didn’t mean to alarm you.”

He was shaking all over like a leaf in a winter storm. Sarah could understand his fear after finding himself with Jack choking him.

“Tell us about the new buyer,” Jack said.

“G-gladly.” The realtor adjusted his glasses and started talking about Davis Hudson as Sarah made tea for him.

She offered Jack a cup too. He refused, and she made one for herself instead.

“I think this is a wonderful opportunity,” Mace continued after extolling Mr. Hudson’s financial virtues. “H-his offer is almost as good as Leland’s but he isn’t interested in the Blue Way.”

“What does he want with the property?” Jack asked.

“I believe he plans to live here as a gentleman farmer. He was talking about building a new house and raising horses. I don’t know if he’ll keep the pumpkin patch. But Ms. Tucker didn’t make that a deal-breaker.”

“No.” She sat at the table with her tea. “That sounds fine.”

“I probably should be going.” Mace eyed Jack suspiciously. “I am free to go, right?”

“Yes. But next time you plan to visit, call ahead.” Jack’s gaze was steady.

“Oh, I will.” He got to his feet on wobbly legs. “Goodnight, Ms. Tucker. Again, I’m sorry for the interruption. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jack said he’d walk him out to his pickup. It wasn’t an invitation. Sarah tidied up nervously when they were gone. She heard the truck leave the driveway and waited for Jack to return.

When he didn’t come back right away, she found him walking around the outside of the house, apparently looking for something.

“Do you think someone else is out here?” She watched his furtive movements.

“Just being careful.”

She followed him as he checked behind all the shrubs. Now was as good a time as any to mention him staying in the house. “You should stay in the house tonight.”

He looked back at her in surprise. “I’ll check everything before you go to bed. You should be safe.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She started over. “You can’t sleep in the barn. There are three bedrooms and a sofa in here. I was surprised that you weren’t living in the house anyway. I’m sure my grandparents didn’t mean you should take care of the property and live in the barn.”

“I never considered living in the house.”

“Maybe you should consider it tonight—or until the barn isn’t a crime scene.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You keep saying that, but you don’t do anything to make it happen. The spring house is too small and damp to sleep in. The other outbuildings are falling apart. Stay in the house tonight. If it makes you feel better, you can pretend that I’m really scared someone might come in and you’re protecting me.”

They’d reached the back porch. He looked up at the night sky. “Then I’ll sleep out here on the porch.”

“I wasn’t planning on taking advantage of you or anything,” she argued. “You don’t have to worry. You’ll be safe from me even if you sleep in the house.”

He moved closer to her and she tensed, thinking how quickly he’d grabbed poor Mace by the throat.

“What if you’re not safe with
me
in the house?”

Sarah considered her response. “I always sleep with a baseball bat under the bed. Something Grampa taught me. I’m not worried about you.”

He chuckled. “Goodnight, Sarah.”

“Goodnight, Jack.”

“Think about what I said about you staying here permanently.”

She opened the kitchen door. “Only if you think about what I said about getting a life.”

He muttered something she didn’t understand, but she didn’t ask him to repeat. She went in the house and closed the door, thinking he was calling her something less than pleasant under his breath.

Sarah turned off the kitchen light and went slowly through the rooms in the old house. She had pleasant memories of each spot. There were potholders she’d made with her grandmother in the kitchen and the lace doilies she’d at least attempted to make in the small living room.

Upstairs, she wandered through the three bedrooms, ending up in her grandparents’ room. Here were their lives in old photos—her, Dusty, her mother. There were pictures of her grandparents when they were young and just settling in at the farm. Sarah looked through her grandmother’s jewelry box and found dozens of personal items that she couldn’t believe her mother had left behind for so many years.

It was the same with her grandfather’s top drawer in his clothes chest. Pictures of when he was in the army as a young man were beside bits and pieces of keys, flint, and other things that he’d held dear.

Seeing those things hardened her resolve about finding her grandparents. They didn’t voluntarily leave so much of their lives behind.

She sat on the big, lumpy bed and cried. This was why no one thought her family had cared about them. What if Jack hadn’t been here and teenagers had broken in and stolen all these things—maybe burned the place down? What had her mother been thinking, leaving everything important here? When she left this time, all of this was going back with her.

Sarah lay back on the bed. Was Jack right about her wanting to stay here? She’d enjoyed the last few days, but it would be different living here all the time. Why had he really thought she would stay? The possibilities of not going back had never crossed her mind before he’d said it. Now it plagued her until she almost couldn’t think of anything else.

She closed her eyes but knew she wouldn’t sleep, not with all these things buzzing around in her head. “I hope what I said keeps you awake too.”

Chapter Twenty

The next morning, Sarah was up early. She’d finally fallen asleep on her grandparents’ bed. She hadn’t taken the pretty green shawl from her mother’s bedroom, but it was thrown across her.

Jack.
He wouldn’t sleep in the house but didn’t mind creeping around after she was asleep.

She looked out on the back porch but didn’t see any sign of him. He was probably busy doing whatever he did around the farm. She went back upstairs to shower and dress, putting on her blue suit that didn’t look so bad after all.

By the time she was dressed, she smelled bacon, coffee, and either biscuits or pancakes cooking. The mother cat and her kittens were sleeping on the stairs. She almost tripped over them, but they didn’t move them out of the way.

Jack put breakfast on the table as she walked into the kitchen. He was freshly showered—there was a shower in the barn. He’d also shaved again and changed into another clean shirt and jeans.

“Good morning,” he said. “I thought you’d need something to eat with everything going on today.”

There were pancakes on the table beside the bacon and orange juice.

“I didn’t buy any bacon when I shopped.” She sat at the table.

“Nope. But Gray had plenty. I got it from him. Everyone needs protein.”

“I see. Well, thanks. And don’t think I didn’t notice that you were in here last night.”

“I never said I thought you were stupid.” He sat opposite her. “I’d like to go into town with you today.”

“You need something?”

“I’m more worried that you might need someone.”

She poured thick maple syrup on her pancakes. “And you’re going to choke anyone who gets in my way? Not a good idea with you being out on bail.”

“I already talked to Ben’s brother. He knows I might have to knock a few heads together. He’s okay with it.”

Sarah glanced across at him with one brow raised. “Really?”

“Just kidding.” He poured coffee. “Did you think about staying here last night?”

“Not at all.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“And you make good pancakes.” She met his inquisitive gaze. “Did you think about moving on with your life?”

“Probably not as much as you thought about my suggestion.”

“I guess neither of us is going to pay any attention to the other.”

“I don’t know about that,” he replied smoothly. “I think you’ll come to your senses.”

She laughed. “I feel the same way about you.”

He ate a strip of bacon. “What are your plans before you meet the new buyer?”

“I’m planning to visit the county historic museum, and go to the courthouse to get a copy of the deed. My mother can’t find her copy, if she ever had one.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I thought lawyers were better organized.”

“Not the ones in my family. Except my father, who had nothing to do with this property, or I’m sure it would’ve been sold sixteen years ago.”

Her phone rang. It was Clare. “Are you ever coming back? What’s going on out there?”

Sarah excused herself from the table to talk to her boss. “Right now, I’m not sure when I’ll be back. I’ve been handling most of the work on my laptop. If anything comes up, you can send people to me online. Almost everyone sends information or requests through email now. I shouldn’t miss much.”

“If you need me to, I can still come down there and strong arm people with my senatorial charm and might,” Clare offered with a laugh. “Although you’re more likely to wield my charm and might better than I can. If you need to get things moving, don’t hesitate to use my name. I’m going to miss playing tennis with you this week. Get everything wrapped up. I need you back here.”

“Thanks for being so understanding and supportive. You’re the best boss in the world.”

“Yes, I am. Let me know if anything shakes loose today. Talk to you later.”

Sarah ended the call and put the phone in her handbag. “I’ll help you clean up,” she said to Jack.

“You barely ate anything.”

“I’m completely fortified,” she assured him. “That’s more than I usually eat in a day.”

“That explains it.” He set the dishes in the sink.

“Explains what?” She bristled.

“Lack of organization. I’ll bet your mother doesn’t eat breakfast either.”

“I doubt it. She eats less than I do.”

“Organization comes from a good breakfast. Ask any general. An army marches on its stomach.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” she promised. “Leave the dishes. I’ll wash them when we get back.”

Jack let the mother cat and kittens out of the house before he closed the door.

“Does she have a name?” Sarah asked, taking out her car keys.

“Not that I know of. I found her one night during a storm. She was out in the rain with her babies. I brought her in the barn, and she’s hung around ever since.”

“You should give her a name. She obviously likes you.”

“I can’t. Not with my future plans so uncertain. It would be cruel to lead her on that way.”

“You’re witty today,” she remarked as she got behind the wheel. “I guess breakfast is good for organization, but not for common sense, huh?”

Jack didn’t comment as she started the car and left the farm.

Score one for me!
I left him speechless
. She smiled.

“Why are you going to the historic museum?” he asked when they were on the highway.

“Because I’m curious about the gold hunting,” she admitted. “I’d like to know if there really is gold hidden on the property. Wouldn’t you?”

“And you think they’ll know at the museum?”

“I think they’ll know if it’s historically accurate.”

“What then?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have an interesting party story to tell, I guess.”

“You think finding out the truth about the gold could help you find your grandparents.”

“Maybe. It’s possible something happened to them because of the gold, like Ron said, but not that I think you killed them to find it.”

“It would be counterproductive, wouldn’t it? If I thought they knew where the gold was and I killed them, I’d never find it.”

“Anyway, since we’re hiring new private detectives to look for them, I thought this could be a lead.”

“Is that what
Ron
said?”

She turned on the street where a brown sign pointed to an old building. “He’s a police officer,” she reminded him. “He’s been trained to look for answers. It can’t hurt to try his theories.”

“Whatever you say.”

Sarah ignored him as she parked and then got out of the car to go inside. Jack went with her, standing close by, his gaze clearly surveilling the area around the museum.

The squat, brown, two-story house had an entrance in the back beside a small parking lot. The houses around it looked old. Huge trees and shrubs grew heavily along the side of the brick walls.

Inside, it was cool and dark. There were dozens of black and white pamphlets near the door. They explained to visitors that the museum was set up to be a self-guided walking tour. One of the areas was designated for the effects of the Civil War on local people and places.

“This could be it,” she said. “Maybe there will be some answers here.”

“I doubt it.” He glanced around without interest.

She went directly to a door marked
Staff
and knocked on it. A small, delicate man in a three-piece suit took one look at her and closed the door again.

Jack laughed quietly. She shot him an angry look.

Sarah knocked again. This time the response was verbal.

“The museum is self-guiding,” the man’s voice said through the door. “Please choose a tour that interests you.”

“I’d like to ask a few questions about the Civil War tour,” she told him. “Are you the curator?”

“No. Follow the tour. I can’t help you. It’s against museum regulations to interact with visitors.”

“That’s crazy. Please open the door. I have questions that may be a matter of life and death.”

The man partially opened the door again and peeked out at her. “What do you want? Maybe I can help you.”

Jack used his finger to push the door open a little farther. “We’d like to see who we’re talking to. If you’re not the curator, who are you?”