The Devil's Cold Dish by Eleanor Kuhns

he would soon finish the twill upon which he was now working. He checked the tension and sat down. He began working the treadles, the soft rhythmic clacking filling the room. As the shuttle flew across the warp from right hand to left, all the worry of the day evaporated. He could feel it leave his body, as though it were a fluid leaking through the soles of his feet and disappearing. He relaxed and his thoughts turned involuntarily to Zadoc Ward.
    Ward’s murder did not surprise Rees. Ward was a bully and, likeliest, he had tormented the wrong man. But why then hadn’t he been killed in town? Perhaps the shooter was so terrified of Ward he was afraid to be within punching distance? But why go so far away? And how had Ward been enticed to Little Knob? Only a powerful reason would draw him away from the comforts of the tavern. Rees unconsciously shook his head. He didn’t understand the purpose behind such careful planning. Moreover, Rees admitted to himself that he found the proximity of the murder to his own brawl with Ward worrying. If someone else had fought with a man who was then found dead, Rees would be suspicious too. But in this case, the juxtaposition of the two events must be coincidence. Telling himself not to allow silly fancies to distract him, Rees turned his thoughts to Farley.
    Maybe he was behind the murder? He owned a rifle and had the necessary skill. Then, perhaps, after murdering Ward, Farley had arranged for himself and Drummond to find the body? Rees mulled over that possibility for a moment and then regretfully shook his head. He couldn’t imagine why Farley would kill Ward now and besides, Rees really doubted that little bantam rooster had the necessary intelligence to plan something like this.
    And how, he wondered, could he find the answers when he had been expressly forbidden to participate in the investigation? He already knew he was going to disobey both Hanson and Caldwell. He had to. Not just because he needed the excitement of unraveling this puzzle, although that was part of it. Without this case to look forward to all he had was the drudgery of farmwork. But he felt even Ward deserved the justice of having his killer identified and punished. Maybe, while he wouldn’t question anyone, he would engage in a few conversations. Surely some people would still speak to him.
    He worked for some time, until the loom was in shadow and he could barely see the warp in front of him. “Hurry up, Squeaker,” David called from outside. The front door slammed. Rees staggered to his feet, his knees stiff after sitting in one position for so long. He went downstairs and into the kitchen.
    Both David and Simon were still damp from their swim. David’s coppery mop, darkened and slicked down by water, looked almost as black as Simon’s hair.
    â€œWe haven’t had dessert yet,” Simon was saying to Lydia, sounding shocked that she had forgotten.
    Lydia laughed. “Of course. How silly of me.” She brought out the raspberry pie and cut several large pieces. Simon poured cream over his and tucked in as though he hadn’t eaten dinner just a few hours ago. He was wearing one of David’s old suits and by the way the buttons strained across the chest the seams would soon have to be let out.
    â€œWas it fun?” Rees asked.
    â€œYes,” said Simon with enthusiasm. “Do you know the pond is full of frogs?”
    David grinned at the younger boy. “Yes, and you jumped a mile when the first bullfrog started croaking.”
    â€œDid not.”
    â€œDid too.”
    â€œJerusha finished the bodice of her doll’s dress,” Lydia said. “And a good job she made of it too.” Jerusha smiled proudly and lowered her eyes to her plate.
    Rees took a bite of pie and grinned around at his family. He had to admit there were compensations to less excitement. Like being home now. Maybe, for the good of his wife and children, he would step back