Give Em Pumpkin To Talk About (Pumpkin Patch Mysteries Book 1) (8 page)

She wondered about the anonymous client Trent was talking about, and an image formed in her mind. No doubt it was Jack trying to stop the sale at the last minute. But where would he come up with the money to hire a lawyer?

“Probably offered to build his barn or something,” she muttered to herself.

Mace tapped at the door and came into the room. “Well? Is there really a legal issue that’s preventing you from selling the farm?”

“I don’t know yet,” she admitted. “My mother should’ve been the one to file that paperwork. She’ll get back to me as soon as she can.”

He glanced toward the open room. “We could lose this sale, you know. Leland wants the property, but he won’t wait forever.”

“I know. He wants it in time to get his money back in grants. But on the other hand, if this is only one of two spots on the river that can be used for the Blue Way, I think he’ll be a little patient while we check into this.”

“I certainly hope so,” he said tartly before he left the small office.

It only took another minute for the phone to ring. It was Suzi with bad news. “I’m sorry, Ms. Tucker. It appears as though that paperwork you requested was never filed. I’ll take care of it right away.”

“Put my mother on the phone,” Sarah demanded.

“She’s very busy. Maybe you could call her later.”

“No. Put her on the phone now, please.”

There was a brief pause, and then Sarah’s mother answered. “I’m so sorry, honey. I guess I got caught up in other things and forgot to file. It will only take a few days. This is Thursday. You should have it back by Monday. You said the police chief told you not to leave for a day or so. Get through the weekend. Hopefully everything will be fine by then.”

“You could’ve checked this before you sent me down here.”

“I know. You have a right to be angry. It just slipped my mind. I’m sorry. I’ll talk to you later.”

Sarah put the heavy yellow phone receiver back down on the cradle. She was furious, but there was nothing she could do but wait. She could go back to Richmond for the weekend and come back Monday, if the paperwork was filed. Maybe that’s what she’d do.

She put on a tight smile as she walked out of the office to face the three men.

“It appears as though some mistakes were made, gentlemen. However, these are mistakes that can be easily rectified. The paperwork regarding my grandparents’ death will be filed today. We’ll have to wait until Monday to finish the transaction. I apologize.”

Leland brought his fist down on the table. “Is this some kind of ploy to get more money for the property?”

“I assure you it’s not.” She remained calm even in the face of his temper. She’d dealt with plenty of angry clients.

“This is unacceptable,” Mace blustered. “Leland has the right to withdraw his offer on the property.”

Sarah picked up her bag. “Of course that choice is his. As soon as I hear that the documents are ready, I’ll let you know. I apologize again for this unfortunate situation.”

“Wait!” Leland grabbed Mace by the sleeve. “She’s not leaving, is she?”

“There’s more we should be talking about,” Mace yelped.

“Really, there isn’t anything else at this juncture,” she replied. “I’ll be in touch.”

But she grabbed Trent as she was walking out the front door and pinned him against the brick wall outside the building.

“Jack put you up to this, didn’t he?” she asked. “What did he offer to trade if you did this for him?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said nervously. “I was only doing my job.”

“Representing who?”

“Not representing anyone.” He smiled and played with his clip-on tie. “I’m not a lawyer. Not really. I’m a legal aid. Jack asked me to see if Mr. and Mrs. Denning had been declared legally dead. They weren’t. I told you before you sold the property. You didn’t want to sell it if everything wasn’t right, did you?”

“No.” She let him go—not that he couldn’t have gotten away if he’d wanted to. She’d pressed her hand against his chest, but he was at least six inches taller than her and much broader. “Why doesn’t he just get with the program? I’m going to sell this land.”  

Trent shrugged. “I don’t know. You should ask him. I have to get back to work. Have a nice day.”

Sarah wasn’t sure what to do. Jack had a target painted on his head as far as she was concerned. He let her walk into this—after a dunk in the river. She wanted to hit him with something.

She went back to the farm and yelled his name a few times. There was no answer from the acres that stretched in front of her. He only showed up when he wanted to. She reached down to stroke the black and white mother cat as her babies scurried along behind her.

“Fine.” She wished she had a microphone. “Stay out there, but stop interfering. We’re going to sell this farm. Get used to it. Find another place to live.”

Sheriff Morgan pulled up in the drive when she was about to get back in her car.

“I heard about your bad news,” he said with a smile. “Grace told me down at the Quik-Chek. Word travels fast. A family of lawyers and no one thought to file the paperwork declaring your grandparents legally dead. I’d call that a travesty of justice, ma’am.”

“Is there some reason for your visit?” she asked. “Or did Jack hire you to bully me?”

That brought a rich chuckle from him. “That Jack gets around pretty good for a man who doesn’t have a car.”

Sarah seethed. “Sheriff?”

“Sorry. Just ribbing you some.” He reached through the window of his car and brought out the file that she’d given him. “George Burris was a good man, Ms. Tucker, but I’m not sure what this information had to do with your grandparents’ disappearance. Did you look at it?”

“Not much. Jack sneaked it out of the kitchen, remember?” She took the file from him. It must be completely unimportant since it could be evidence in a murder case and he was giving it back. “You don’t think Mr. Burris was killed for this?”

“Nope. Not considering the killer left it behind. Take a look. Give me a call if you have any questions. I hear you’ll be here until at least Monday. I don’t know if George’s death will be wrapped up that neatly. But I’m sure you’ll give me your contact info if you decide to go back to Richmond.”

“Thanks. I’ll let you know.”

He grinned. “Good thing you have a phone at the hotel, huh? Grace said your phone went for a swim.”

“You could say that. I’ll talk to you later, Sheriff Morgan.”

“That Jack. He really cracks me up.”

Chapter Eight

Sarah ignored her irritation with Jack and Sheriff Morgan and drove back to the hotel. Her boots were ruined. She went out and bought a new pair. She washed clothes again and picked up her suit at the dry cleaners. There wasn’t much they could do with it. Sarah was pretty sure she’d never wear it again.

After taking a shower and changing clothes, she lay down on the bed and opened the folder George Burris had wanted her to see.

It was full of pictures, most black and white, some in color. Some were very old. There were newspaper clippings from as far back as 1897. Many of the newer articles were by George. All of his information pertained to a lost chest of gold that had supposedly belonged to the Confederate Army.

Many of the articles were of the opinion that the South could have won the war if that gold wouldn’t have gone missing. The whole thing was about people looking for the gold and believing it was somewhere on her grandparents’ property.

Sarah muttered a few “crazies” and got up to get a Coke from the mini-fridge. She shifted to the brown chair by the door and started reading again.

Somehow an ancestor of hers, Big Mike Denning, had been credited—or accused, depending on what side of the war you were on—of stealing the gold. Many people thought he’d taken it to end the war. George and some of his friends believed the gold was still there on the farm. There were maps, supposedly drawn by Big Mike himself. But the gold still remained unfound.

The hotel phone rang. It was Hunter wanting to know how everything was going and if she’d sold the property. “And where’s your cell phone? I tried calling you a few times and left messages. What’s up?”

“It’s been a much bigger adventure than I’d expected.” She told Hunter about George Burris, her wet cell phone, and then described the catastrophe trying to finalize the sale of the land. “I can’t tell you how embarrassing it was to be outmaneuvered by a man who lives on my land illegally.”

Hunter laughed at her. “I’m not sure if your mom really wants to sell the place or not. It seems like she’s ignored it, but I think she’s got doubts.”

Sarah agreed. “I was just looking at the file that Mr. Burris died trying to show me. It doesn’t make any sense. It’s all pictures of my grandparents and articles about looking for lost gold on their property. Even the sheriff didn’t want it.”

“Treasure hunting? Does the sheriff think Mr. Burris was killed for that?”

“He’s not exactly the sharing type, although he gave me the file he had on my grandparents’ disappearance. It’s skimpy, Hunter. And he hasn’t offered any ideas on why the man was killed at the house. He makes me feel like he thinks I’m a suspect, but Jack thinks that’s stupid.”

“Jack, huh?” Hunter asked. “Have you actually been charged with anything?”

“No. I guess it might be like a person of interest thing. The sheriff gave me this information, but he still has my gun.”

“Probably checking ballistics. Do you want me to come back up? I can be there in a few hours. I don’t like that you’re there alone.”

 “I thought about going home for the weekend,” Sarah admitted. “But I can’t get involved with anything there until I can clear this up. I guess I’ll just stay here until Monday.”

“What about this man who’s hanging around your farm? You said the sheriff didn’t question him about Mr. Burris’s death.”

“Not as far as I know,” Sarah said. “Jack was right there with me when the first shot was fired. I don’t think he was responsible for it, even though he’s incredibly annoying. But I don’t know for sure. It could be some elaborate set up.”

“You could probably get a no-trespassing warrant against him,” Hunter told her. “If he’s squatting out there, I’m sure the sheriff would get him off if you pressed it.”

Sarah looked at her freckles in the hotel room mirror. “I know. But I feel sorry for him. I don’t know what happened to him, but he thinks he’s protecting the property for my grandparents. He thinks they’re coming back.”

“That sounds like a problem. And the sheriff doesn’t think Jack had anything to do with your grandparents disappearing either?”

“No. He’s just good old Jack. It’s a weird situation. My mother should’ve kept up with what was going on out there all these years—or sold the place. This is so unlike her. She doesn’t usually ignore problems or have butter fingers. You might be right about how she really feels.”

“I’d be careful out there anyway. This guy might seem harmless, but you don’t know that he didn’t kill your grandparents in his search for the gold and then take out Mr. Burris because he knew about it.”

“I’m probably not going out there again until Monday. I’ll get a new phone and catch up on some work with my laptop here at the hotel. It’s lucky that I can work from anywhere.”

“Just watch your back,” Hunter said. “The whole thing sounds kind of scary.”

“Thanks. I will.” Sarah wanted to tell her friend about the teenage Jack that she remembered, and that first awkward kiss. But she didn’t mention it. She didn’t want her friend to give up her weekend to come to her rescue.

There was a coffee shop close to the hotel. Sarah was ready to get out of the room for a while.

She ran a comb through her hair. It didn’t seem to like the time she’d spent outdoors or the dip in the river. It was standing up all over. She twisted it into place and secured it on the back of her head.

Her skin was pink from the extra sun, and she swore she had a few more freckles than she’d started out with. She wanted to go home and leave all of this for Dusty or her mother. It was turning out to be a lot more than she’d thought it would.

But she had to see it through. It had to be done right this time.

She was going to get a replacement for her wet phone first, she decided. Then she could sit at the coffee shop and take a look at it. She thought about what Jack had suggested about putting the phone in rice. If the idea had come from anyone else, she might try it. At that moment, she wanted to put Jack in rice.

It was a strange, naked feeling not having her phone with her. She felt out of touch and frequently stuck her hand in her pocket or handbag to check it, only to find it wasn’t there. Funny how people had grown so dependent on them. She couldn’t wait to get hers back.

The surprisingly friendly clerk moved her information from her data card to another phone. Sarah was glad she frequently backed up her pictures and other important items. New phone in hand, she went to the coffee shop only to find a dozen messages from various people. Her mother had left several messages, and so had Clare. Sheriff Morgan had left the most recent message.

Sarah got a mocha latte from a good-looking barista who flirted with her by licking whipped cream from his finger as he gazed into her eyes. She was smiling on her way to the table as she returned the sheriff’s call.

“Looks like we’re not gonna luck out and find the rifle that was used to kill George. We got a tip that it was hidden in some brambles on your property, but there was nothing but some shell casings and candy wrappers. We got a few smudged prints off that stuff. I was wondering if you might consider coming out here and giving us a few fresh prints.”

“My fingerprints? Seriously?” Her voice got loud in her frustration, and people at a nearby table stared at her. She lowered her tone. “So I’m actually a suspect?”

“It’s mostly just to rule out your prints from the ones we found, create a baseline of people we know were there. We’re having some difficulty getting a copy of your prints from Senator Rosemond’s office in Richmond. They should be on file, but we’re getting stonewalled. I can’t make you do this, Ms. Tucker, but it could help us out. We both want the same thing, right?”