The clerk cracked her gum impatiently, her hand hovering in the air for Monica’s payment.

  Monica smiled apologetically and quickly handed over her card.

  She’d certainly gotten more out of her oil change than she’d expected. Timmy may believe that his conversation with Candi would be meaningless to anyone but the two of them, but he was wrong. He didn’t know it, but what he’d said confirmed that both he and Candi had good reason to want to see Jolie dead.

  • • •

  Monica felt her stomach growl. Maybe she’d stop at the diner for a bowl of their chili. It wasn’t on the menu, and only locals knew about it. Gus claimed it was the best chili in the world, and Monica had to agree with him. She’d never tasted any better.

  She pulled into a nearby parking lot, put the car in park and grabbed her cell phone off the passenger seat. Perhaps she’d take Greg something to eat as well and they could have lunch together.

  She quickly dialed Lauren’s number. Lauren answered the call on the first ring.

  “Hello,” she whispered.

  “Why are you whispering?”

  “Teddy’s sleeping in his carry cot and I don’t want to wake him.”

  “Don’t worry. The pediatrician said to make as much noise as usual so he’ll get used to it and be able to sleep through it.” Monica switched the phone from her left hand to her right. “Are you two doing okay? Is there any chance you could possibly stay another hour? I don’t want to keep you . . .”

  “No problem.” There was a smile in Lauren’s voice. “Don’t hurry. Teddy’s been a dream and I’ve gotten a lot done on that grocery store account. I managed to put together a draft of a marketing plan while Teddy was sleeping.”

  “That’s great. I won’t be long. Promise.”

  Monica hung up, tossed the phone back onto the passenger seat and pulled out of the parking lot. She scored an empty space in front of the hardware store and walked down the street to the diner.

  The place was bustling with the lunch hour crowd, an egalitarian mix of men in business suits with their ties temporarily loosened and farmers in overalls with mud on their knees.

  Monica joined the line that was inching toward the take-out counter. Gus kept things hopping, flipping burgers on the steaming grill and serving up one order after another with lightning speed. Finally, it was Monica’s turn and she ordered two bowls of chili. She was about to move to the side to let the next person give their order when Gus turned from the grill and grabbed her arm.

  His leathery face with the puckered scar on his cheek from a burn accident was serious.

  “You help my nephew Mick, please? The police questioned him in that woman’s death. His wife.” Gus snorted. “He’s innocent. I know it here.” He thumped his chest with his fist.

  Monica reassured him that she would do what she could. She didn’t want to tell him she had no idea who the real killer was.

  Moments later, she had two containers of chili in hand and was walking next door to Book ’Em.

  “This is a nice surprise,” Greg said, leaning over the counter to kiss Monica. “How did you know I was starving?”

  “A lucky guess.” Monica put their lunch on the counter. Grease, along with the scent of rich spices, was beginning to ooze through the paper bag. “Maybe we can eat in the back.” She looked around. “Where is Wilma? She’s usually glued to your side.”

  A customer approached the counter and Monica grabbed the bag and stepped to the side. She was surprised to see the customer was Courtney Spencer.

  Courtney had her phone in her hand and put it on the counter as she reached into her Gucci handbag for her wallet. She paused and looked up, her hand still in her purse. “I almost forgot. I meant to ask if the new Pamela Valiant thriller has come in?”

  “Yes. Let me get it for you. It’s part of the display on the table near the mystery section.”

  Courtney waved a hand. “No need. I can get it myself.” She left her purse and her phone and began to walk toward the back of the store.

  A text popped up on her phone and Monica couldn’t resist. She put out a finger and spun the phone around. The text was from someone named Lexie.

  Did you call the lawyer I told you about? She’s a bulldog when it comes to shredding prenups in divorce cases. What that jerk offered you was ridiculous. A pittance. You should never have signed it.

  Monica rotated the phone back to its original position just as Courtney reappeared at the counter and placed the book—with From the Queen of Suspense splashed across the front in white letters against a blood red background—on the counter.

  Monica carried the bag of chili to the stock room to wait for Greg. So, Courtney was getting a divorce. And she’d signed a prenup for what sounded like a paltry sum. She already knew Courtney had expensive tastes. Might she have been furious that her father had married Jolie, thus snatching her inheritance right out from under her nose?

  • • •

  Monica’s mind wandered as she drove back to the farm from Book ’Em, bouncing between Jolie’s death, Teddy, the farm and the farm store. The farm store made her think of Mick and a sense of uneasiness settled over her. Was Mick planning to leave? So far, he hadn’t said anything, but perhaps he was still waiting for confirmation from that restaurant in Chicago.

  And he needed his green card to get that job. Was that the only reason he had married Jolie? And was he hoping to inherit her estate when she died? Would he quit and buy a boat and sail the French Riviera or whatever it was rich people did with their money? Monica pictured Mick lounging on the deck of a luxurious yacht, a steward bringing him a cocktail and a beautiful young woman rubbing suntan lotion on his shoulders. It was a compelling picture, making the money a strong motive for murder. No wonder the police were questioning him.

  Not that Monica thought he was guilty. She didn’t have anything concrete to back up her feelings, she simply couldn’t picture Mick as a killer and the image of him on a yacht faded from her mind.

  The more she thought about Mick though, the more uneasy she became. Was he or wasn’t he going to leave Sassamanash Farm? It was time to rip off the bandage and ask him outright what his intentions were.

  Teddy was awake and gurgling in his carry cot with Hercule standing guard when Monica arrived home.

  “I changed him five minutes ago.” Lauren gathered her things together. “He was a good boy, weren’t you?” She bent over Teddy and tickled him under the chin. “You’re lucky to have such an easy baby.” She straightened up and looked at Monica. “I hope I’m as lucky.”

  Was that a hint, Monica wondered, as she walked Lauren to the door, Teddy cradled in her arms? Were Lauren and Jeff expecting? It would be wonderful if they were. Teddy would have a cousin to play with.

  After Lauren had gone, she bundled Teddy into a warm sweater, put him in his carriage and maneuvered him out the door. She forgot about Mick as she daydreamed about the possibility of Teddy’s having a cousin soon as she pushed the carriage down the path. She pictured a swing set in their new backyard and the two of them playing happily.

  The picture didn’t last long. Her worries about Mick hit her like a freight train as soon as the farm kitchen came into view.

  The dark clouds that had been massing on the horizon had moved in and plump raindrops were beginning to fall. Monica put up the canopy on Teddy’s carriage and began to walk faster.

  She was so nervous about talking to Mick that she got the stroller stuck on the threshold. Teddy was oblivious to her struggle and continued to coo and blow bubbles. Janice rushed to Monica’s aid and they made it inside before the rain intensified.

  Mick was at the counter kneading dough studded with bright red cranberries. He smiled when he saw Monica.

  Monica parked Teddy next to her mother, who immediately began to fuss over him, and went over to Mick. Her heart was hammering and she wiped her palms on her jeans.

  “Can I talk to you for a moment? Privately.” Her voice quavered slightly.

  Mick drew his eyebrows together. “Sure. Should we go outside?”

  Monica shook her head. “It’s starting to rain. Let’s go into the stockroom.”

  “What is it?” Mick crossed his arms over his chest.

  Monica decided she might as well plunge in. “Are you planning to leave Sassamanash Farm?”

  “No! Why would you . . .” Mick hung his head. “You must have heard about the offer from La Nourriture in Chicago.”

  “Yes. I didn’t mean to snoop but I overhead—”

  Mick waved for her to stop. “I’m not going. I don’t want to leave Cranberry Cove and my uncle Gus. Someday he’s going to need someone to take over the diner. He insists he’s fine, but being on his feet all day has begun to take its toll.”

  Monica felt her breath rush out of her. “Oh. That’s wonderful.”

  “How could I leave you?” Mick gave her a quick hug. His expression turned somber. “As long as I don’t end up in jail.” His mouth turned down at the corners.

  “What?”

  Mick ran a hand through his hair. “The police have been around again asking questions. Let’s face it, the husband is usually the prime suspect.” He scrubbed his hands across his face. “Uncle Gus said you’d look into it. Find the real killer.” His dark eyes beseeched Monica.

  She swallowed hard. “There’s not much I can do. It’s really up to the police, but if I find out anything, I’ll be sure to let Detective Stevens know.”

  “Thank you.” Mick’s face relaxed. “Now I’d better get back to work before that dough begins to dry out.”

  Chapter 11

  It was damp and rainy when Monica woke up on Saturday morning. Teddy was demanding to be fed and she slipped into her robe and hurried into the nursery. Satisfied after his feeding, he was content to sit in his bouncy seat while she washed and dressed.

  Greg had started breakfast—scrambled eggs, bacon and warm cranberry scones.

  “Are you interviewing the nanny today?” Greg slid some eggs onto Monica’s plate.

  “Yes. She’s coming in an hour.” Even though it was still relatively far off, Monica felt a pang at the thought of leaving Teddy with someone else. The nanny had been recommended by the Van Velsen sisters and that did make her feel slightly more at ease.

  Greg headed off to Book ’Em and Monica straightened up the kitchen. She glanced into the living room to make sure everything was in order. She gave the pillows another plumping and opened the curtains even though there was nothing much to see beyond a rain-streaked window.

  Teddy had begun to fuss and she was pacing the floor with him when the front bell rang. Mittens raised her head briefly but Hercule, who had been sound asleep, jumped to his feet and began to bark. He accompanied Monica to the door. She had to tug a bit to get it open. They hardly ever used that entrance and the door had swollen slightly.

  A middle-aged woman was standing on the doorstep. She had a blond Dutch boy haircut and glasses with large blue frames.

  “Monica? I’m Alice Becker.” She smiled at Teddy, who had finally quieted down.

  “Won’t you come in.” Monica motioned for her to have a seat. She was pleased to note that Alice radiated competence and common sense.

  Teddy began to fuss again and Alice held out her arms. “Here, let me.” She cradled Teddy and cooed to him softly. “He’s absolutely adorable.” She glanced at Monica. “Your first?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Theodore but we call him Teddy.”

  “Congratulations. You have so much joy ahead of you.”

  Monica leaned back against the chair cushion trying to look relaxed. “Tell me about yourself.”

  Alice gave her a kindly smile. “I’ve been a nurse for twenty-five years. My five children are grown and I don’t have any grandchildren yet.” She held up crossed fingers. “Hoping for some soon.”

  Five children! She obviously knew her way around caring for a baby.

  “What kind of nursing did you do?”

  “I started at the Cranberry Cove Hospital in the ER. The work was grueling and when I got pregnant with my first, I transferred to pediatrics. Those patients are a lot more fun. Children are so stoic and most of them barely ever complained.” She bounced Teddy up and down slightly. “I eventually ended up doing hospice work, which I did for years, but ultimately I burned out. So much sorrow.” She jiggled Teddy. “Babies are much more fun, aren’t you, little Teddy.”

  Monica felt her shoulders relax. It looked like this was going to be okay.

  “Although I do miss my colleagues at Loving Hands Hospice. They were a great bunch.” She handed Teddy back to Monica.

  Monica’s ears perked up. Loving Hands Hospice? “Did you know Jolie Clawson, by any chance?”

  Alice looked startled. “The woman who was murdered? I didn’t know her well. Passing acquaintances, I guess you’d say. Still, what happened to her was terribly sad.”

  “Did you ever work together?”

  She shook her head. “We served in different areas and really only ran into each other at staff meetings or the occasional get-togethers at the office for someone’s birthday or retirement.” She glanced at Teddy and smiled. “I heard she married well.”

  “She did. She’d been her husband’s nurse, I understand.” Monica paused. “Did she get along with the other employees? As far you know,” she added.

  “There’d been some controversy at work involving another employee. The two of them had been on several jobs together where the client had reported things missing—money, jewelry, and in one case drugs. Jolie suspected her colleague was the culprit and reported him.”

  “What happened?”

  “Her colleague denied it and tried to point the finger at her but ultimately, they believed her. Management couldn’t risk a lawsuit from their clients so they let the other employee go.”

  “Do you know the name of her colleague?”

  Alice pursed her lips. “Let me think. I don’t remember his first name but his last name was something like timber.” She closed her eyes. “It’s on the tip of my tongue.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I just can’t remember.”

  • • •

  Could this colleague of Jolie’s be another suspect? Monica wondered as she said goodbye to Alice. It would have been easy enough for someone to sneak onto the farm’s property. They could have dressed up as one of the catering staff and no one would have been the wiser. Or, they could have gone to the farm earlier and hid somewhere.

  But wouldn’t they have had to have known that Jolie was going to be at the wedding? As far as Monica could tell, no one knew she’d married Mick so why would anyone expect her to be there?

  She didn’t have any answers. Hopefully, the police would arrest the killer soon and put everyone’s mind at ease.

  Monica fed Teddy and then made herself a sandwich while he napped in his carry cot. She glanced at her to-do list. Tuesday was Janice’s birthday and she wanted to get her a present. Various ideas went through her mind and she rejected them one by one. Finally, she settled on a nice box of candy from Gumdrops. She knew Janice had a sweet tooth because she often topped off her lunch with a candy bar.

  She checked Mittens’s and Hercule’s food and water bowls and then got Teddy ready to go. He woke up and protested but she knew he would settle down once they were in the car. She wasn’t surprised when he was fast asleep again before they were even out of the driveway.

  The interview with Alice had gone well. Monica thought she was just the right person to look after Teddy, even if that thought did make her gulp.

  Monica passed that same patrol car crouched by the side of the road like a spider waiting to snag its prey. She was on her way down the hill when she noticed in her rearview mirror that someone in a bright red Corvette had been pulled over.

  She found a parking spot outside of Bart’s Butcher. Bart was in the window arranging a display of roasts and waved when she and Teddy went by.

  The sidewalks were more crowded than usual, even for a Saturday, but the crowds would slowly disappear as the last leaves fell from the trees that had lured them to Cranberry Cove in the first place.

  The Van Velsens were thrilled to see them. At least they were thrilled to see Teddy, who looked angelic asleep in his carriage.

  Hennie turned from the display she was arranging, and Gerda came out from behind the counter, smoothing the skirt of her Black Watch tartan kilt.

  Monica had learned to distinguish between them despite their identical looks and outfits. Hennie was the bolder of the two while Gerda tended to let her twin take the lead.

  “He looks like you,” Gerda said as she bent over the carriage. “All that lovely dark hair.”

  Hennie frowned. “Nonsense. He’s Greg through and through, aren’t you, young man?”

  Gerda put a hand to her back as she straightened up. “Darned arthritis.”

  “What can we get for you?” Hennie moved toward a display. “Is it something for you or a present for someone?”

  “It’s for Janice who works with me at the farm. Her birthday is coming up.”

  “Maybe a nice gift box of Droste chocolates?” Hennie picked one from the display and held it up.

  “Perfect.”

  “I’ll gift wrap it for you,” Gerda said, bustling back behind the counter. She reached underneath and pulled out a pair of scissors. “Did you hear the news?” she said as she cut a piece of wrapping paper.

  “What news?”

  “It was on the local news. WZZZ. I like to watch it while I eat my lunch. Today we had some of the nice erwtensoep I made last night.”

  Monica had been in Cranberry Cove, where there was a heavy Dutch population, long enough to know that erwtensoep was pea soup.

  “I like to make it with sausage but Hennie always says she prefers it with a pork chop. Bart can always be relied on for some good pork.”

  “What was on the news?” Monica prompted.