Til Dirt Do Us Part (A Local Foods Mystery) by Edith Maxwell Page A

return. She started to speak to Bobby as she turned back. But he wasn’t there. He was running, crashing through the brush, disappearing back into the woods.
    “Bobby, wait! Let’s talk.” Cam started after him, but he didn’t slow and soon was out of sight. She pulled to a halt, wishing she could help him. However, she had a business to run. Still, as she returned to the sprouts, she wished he’d finished telling her what had happened between him and Irene after the dinner. And wondered if she should tell Pappas she’d seen him.

Chapter 6
    A bout half the subscribers had dropped by to pick up their shares when Wes Ames entered the barn, carrying the market basket Felicity usually had in hand. Cam was in the middle of explaining how to roast winter squash to Diane Weaver, a subscriber who had signed up in midsummer, when she saw Preston sidle up to Wes. The cat reared up and rubbed his head against Wes’s knee.
    Wes quickly looked down with widened nostrils and curled lip. “Get away.” He swatted at Preston with the basket.
    “Hey, be nice!” Cam called. What did he have against the sweetest cat in the Northeast?
    Preston stared at Wes for a moment before beelining it for the door.
    Cam cleared her throat and continued speaking with Diane. Wes approached them and tapped Cam on the shoulder.
    “Just one minute, Wes,” Cam said before finishing her explanation. Anybody who would swat at a cat could just wait.
    Diane, dressed in black jeans and a cream-colored Costa Rica T-shirt, thanked her. “I wanted to tell you that my daughter and I put up twenty-two jars of tomato sauce last month. It was my first time canning anything.” She beamed.
    “That’s great.” Cam’s mouth ached from smiling for the past two hours. Would she ever get used to schmoozing?
    “I’m going to take a little walk around the fields, if you don’t mind. It’s so satisfying to see where my dinner is growing.”
    Cam assured her it was fine. Diane cast an odd look at Wes as she hefted her two cloth bags stuffed with produce. Cam turned to Wes. He glared at Diane’s retreating form. Cam groaned inwardly. The last thing she needed was conflict between her customers. Or any conflict, when it came right down to it.
    “What did you need, Wes?”
    He started, glancing at Cam. “Oh. I heard Irene Burr died. Was murdered, is what they’re saying.”
    “Yes, it’s very sad news.” Cam sniffed. She thought she detected the unmistakable aroma of marijuana.
    “Did they arrest anybody yet?”
    Everybody seemed to think Cam knew more than any other resident of the town.
    “I don’t know. I’ve been working all day. As of last night, they hadn’t.” She didn’t see any reason to let Wes know Detective Pappas had been to the farm, asking questions.
    “Looks like we don’t lose our town hall to some museum, after all.” A satisfied look on his face, Wes folded his arms.
    “Wes! A woman lost her life—a person from this town—and you’re thinking about town property?”
    A customer bagging greens turned at Cam’s raised voice.
    “Well, it’s an important issue around here.” Wes gestured with a broad sweep of his arm. “But you’re right. I should have kept my mouth shut.”
    Cam opened hers and shut it again. She thought she’d gotten to know Wes a bit over the summer. He was a tall, aging hippie who doted on and cooked for his wife. He also harbored a bit of paranoia about the police. But his reaction to Irene’s death shook Cam.
    The ding of a bicycle bell rang out, followed by Alexandra striding into the barn, blond braids swinging, eyes shining, bags swinging from one hand.
    “You wouldn’t believe what I just heard!”
    Cam’s heart sank. She hoped the news would not be Bobby being arrested or someone else dying, or anything else disastrous. Let it not be more bad news.
    A customer selecting squash spoke up. “Did they catch that lady’s killer?”
    Alexandra threw her hands in the air, suddenly the focus of