Crops and Robbers by Paige Shelton Page A

was aware enough to know that her involvement was a big reason not to throw myself into the investigation. I wouldn’t be able to be objective. I’d wanted her to wash up before we called the police. If I’d had my wits about me, I might have suggested we hide the body, too.
    The realization of this shook me. Even if my mother had killed someone, I shouldn’t consider hiding evidence.
    I looked at my mom and dad. They were always so sure of themselves and their beliefs. They were confident without being cocky or preachy. I’d even liked them when I was a teenager. They were nice people.
    It wouldn’t hurt to talk to Bo at the market. That’s what I’d do—talk to him where the world could observe the conversation. There’d be nothing fishy or suspicious or investigative-like about it.
    Suddenly, I wanted the next day to arrive quickly. Or, I wanted this day to be over, I wasn’t sure which. My guests must have felt the same way. Shortly after dinner, Ian, Hobbit, and I were walking everyone to their cars.
    “Everything’s going to be fine,” Mom said as she, Dad, Ian, and I watched Allison and her family get in their 4Runner. Even though the sun hadn’t fully set, it was getting late and the evening had come to a weary end for two-year-old Mathis. Allison sent me a knowing glance out the passenger-side window as they pulled onto the state highway. She and I needed to talk without everyone else listening. She’d be at my stall the next morning. I nodded as they drove down the road. I’d be there early.
    “I know,” I said to Mom. “Of course it will be fine.”
    “Definitely,” Dad said with enthusiasm. Too much enthusiasm.
    “We’ll see you tomorrow, dear. We’re going to stop by the market in the morning,” Mom said as Dad held open the passenger-side door of their rented Prius.
    I had thought briefly about not working the next day, but it would be Saturday, and a Saturday in August would be busy. I hadn’t given any notice to my customers that I wouldn’t be there, and I was already taking Sunday off. Plus, I really wanted to talk to Bo and check in with Allison.
    Mom and Dad drove back to their RV, which was parked at a nearby campground. I’d tried to convince them to stay with me, and Allison had tried to convince them to stay with her, but neither of us succeeded. The RV was their home.
    Hobbit stood on one side of me and Ian on the other. He put his arm around me, and I leaned into his shoulder.
    “You okay?” he asked.
    “Not at the moment, but I’m sure everything will be fine.”
    “What do you need to do to get ready for tomorrow?”
    “I’m good. I’ve got plenty of inventory ready, and my next Maytabee’s shipment isn’t until next week. I don’t have to prep anything tonight.”
    “Good. You could use some rest.”
    “Are you staying?” Hobbit, having mastered the English language, perked up and wagged her tail at the question. She adored Ian.
    “Of course,” Ian said to us both.
    “You sure you don’t have things to attend to?”
    “I’m sure. Come on, let’s get some rest.”
    Ian directed me into the house, checked everything that was supposed to be checked, closed all windows despite my mild protests, locked all doors, and then set the infrequently used alarm.
    I’d never been one for nightmares. I could watch the scariest, bloodiest movie ever made and still sleep deeply and undisturbed, but that night I dreamt about what had happened in my barn. In my sleep, deep in my heavy dreams, I saw every gruesome detail, except the most important ones: Who killed Joan Ashworth? And why?

Six

    Of course Hobbit had a starring role in my nightmares. I was relieved to wake up and find that she was still fine. I wasn’t going to leave her home alone, though. Ian took her, with the idea that he’d drop her off with his landlord, George, if he got in a bind. It was a good plan, and I was grateful for the available dog-sitting options.
    I was at Bailey’s extra early. I