us here this morning to pick up the keys, right? So how does he wind up under
one of our piles of pumpkins, smack dab in the middle of High Field?”
Candy shook her head. She didn’t have an answer.
She was still recovering from the shock of seeing Sebastian’s body. For some reason,
she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off him. She’d seen a dead body before, a year
or two ago in the basement of an old house in town, but somehow this was different.
This death had taken place right under her nose.
“I don’t know,” she said finally, and with a shake of her head she started toward
the hay wagon.
But halfway there she stopped, falling into deep thought. Something was itching at
her—something didn’t feel right. After absently studying the ground for several moments,
she shook her head. She was missing something—she just had to figure out what it was.
She lifted her gaze and looked out ahead of her, toward the hay wagon and then left
to the line of trees. Through the thin screen of trunks and branches, she could see
slivers of Low Field and the cars in the parking lot beyond.
She shifted, now scanning the trees to the north, and following them around to the
west and the south, turning in an almost complete circle. She gazed up at the sky
and again down to the fields around her.
Finally she turned and walked back to Maggie, who was still standing where she’d left
her. “You know, that’s a great question,” Candy said as she approached her friend.
Maggie gave her a confused look. “Which one?”
She pointed toward the body of Sebastian J. Quinn. “How did he wind up here, under
a piles of pumpkins, smack dab in the middle of
this
field?”
“Oh,
that
question.” Maggie scrunched up her face and shrugged. “I have no idea. That’s why
I asked you. Why, have you noticed something?”
In response, Candy turned and looked back toward the line of trees and Low Field.
“I don’t remember seeing a car in the parking lot when we came in this morning. Do
you?”
“A car?” Maggie had to think about that for a moment. “Now that you mention it, no.
The lot was empty when we came in, just like it is every morning.”
“Right,” Candy said, her mind starting to work. “So if Sebastian didn’t come here
in his own car, how did he get out here? Did he walk from town? Did he take a taxi
cab all the way out here? Did he fall out of a plane?”
“Maybe the murderer brought him here,” Maggie mused.
“Murderer?” Candy looked thoughtfully at her friend. “So you think he was murdered?”
Maggie gave her a noncommittal look. “Wasn’t he?”
A determined look came into Candy’s blue eyes, and her jaw tightened. “I don’t know.
Let’s go find out.”
EIGHT
T.J. had edged back from the body but still crouched nearby, while the others who
had helped uncover the corpse hovered in a loose circle among the scattered, tossed-aside
pumpkins.
Candy walked up to T.J. and touched him on the shoulder. He looked up at her, a solemn
expression on his face.
“We should get everyone back away from the crime scene,” she told him, “so we don’t
disturb it any further—though granted it’s a mess as far as evidence is concerned.”
He nodded and rose, gazing back toward the wagon. “Right. And someone should probably
get those passengers out of here.”
“I’ll do it,” Maggie volunteered. She looked at Candy and added, “I think your job
is here.”
As she started off, T.J. looked at Candy quizzically. “What did she mean by that?”
“She means,” Candy said grimly, “that I’ve had a bit of experience with this sort
of thing…much as I hate to admitit. Unfortunately, trouble seems to keep following me around.”
She waved her arm at the others who stood near the uncovered body. “Will you all please
step back? In fact, it might be better if everyone climbed back into the wagon. Maggie’s
going to take you back to
one of our piles of pumpkins, smack dab in the middle of High Field?”
Candy shook her head. She didn’t have an answer.
She was still recovering from the shock of seeing Sebastian’s body. For some reason,
she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off him. She’d seen a dead body before, a year
or two ago in the basement of an old house in town, but somehow this was different.
This death had taken place right under her nose.
“I don’t know,” she said finally, and with a shake of her head she started toward
the hay wagon.
But halfway there she stopped, falling into deep thought. Something was itching at
her—something didn’t feel right. After absently studying the ground for several moments,
she shook her head. She was missing something—she just had to figure out what it was.
She lifted her gaze and looked out ahead of her, toward the hay wagon and then left
to the line of trees. Through the thin screen of trunks and branches, she could see
slivers of Low Field and the cars in the parking lot beyond.
She shifted, now scanning the trees to the north, and following them around to the
west and the south, turning in an almost complete circle. She gazed up at the sky
and again down to the fields around her.
Finally she turned and walked back to Maggie, who was still standing where she’d left
her. “You know, that’s a great question,” Candy said as she approached her friend.
Maggie gave her a confused look. “Which one?”
She pointed toward the body of Sebastian J. Quinn. “How did he wind up here, under
a piles of pumpkins, smack dab in the middle of
this
field?”
“Oh,
that
question.” Maggie scrunched up her face and shrugged. “I have no idea. That’s why
I asked you. Why, have you noticed something?”
In response, Candy turned and looked back toward the line of trees and Low Field.
“I don’t remember seeing a car in the parking lot when we came in this morning. Do
you?”
“A car?” Maggie had to think about that for a moment. “Now that you mention it, no.
The lot was empty when we came in, just like it is every morning.”
“Right,” Candy said, her mind starting to work. “So if Sebastian didn’t come here
in his own car, how did he get out here? Did he walk from town? Did he take a taxi
cab all the way out here? Did he fall out of a plane?”
“Maybe the murderer brought him here,” Maggie mused.
“Murderer?” Candy looked thoughtfully at her friend. “So you think he was murdered?”
Maggie gave her a noncommittal look. “Wasn’t he?”
A determined look came into Candy’s blue eyes, and her jaw tightened. “I don’t know.
Let’s go find out.”
EIGHT
T.J. had edged back from the body but still crouched nearby, while the others who
had helped uncover the corpse hovered in a loose circle among the scattered, tossed-aside
pumpkins.
Candy walked up to T.J. and touched him on the shoulder. He looked up at her, a solemn
expression on his face.
“We should get everyone back away from the crime scene,” she told him, “so we don’t
disturb it any further—though granted it’s a mess as far as evidence is concerned.”
He nodded and rose, gazing back toward the wagon. “Right. And someone should probably
get those passengers out of here.”
“I’ll do it,” Maggie volunteered. She looked at Candy and added, “I think your job
is here.”
As she started off, T.J. looked at Candy quizzically. “What did she mean by that?”
“She means,” Candy said grimly, “that I’ve had a bit of experience with this sort
of thing…much as I hate to admitit. Unfortunately, trouble seems to keep following me around.”
She waved her arm at the others who stood near the uncovered body. “Will you all please
step back? In fact, it might be better if everyone climbed back into the wagon. Maggie’s
going to take you back to
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