A Tough Nut to Kill (Nut House Mystery Series) by Elizabeth Lee Page B
Authors: Elizabeth Lee
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I understand, coming from a fine Texas family myself. If y’all just follow me . . .”
We were off, out through the large, unused kitchen, where a uniformed woman stood watching TV, and out the back door into heat like liquid fuel. Once we were through the clipped-short grass of a yard filled with lounges and tiny white tables, and out under the tall trees, Miss Amelia gave a sigh of relief, which I understood.
The Conways’ barns were bigger than ours, and newer, and surprisingly empty. Even off-season, when we weren’t packing, our barns were filled with mowers and sprayers and tractors and workers preparing for the picking and packing and shipping season in November. Here, Harry’s pecan bins looked almost untouched. All neatly lined in rows, the wood pale and unused.
“Wow.” I couldn’t help myself.
Chastity preened at what she took to be a compliment. “Whole place is like that. Harry just came in and tore down all that old stuff. Took him one winter to go through everything. Now he’s got the heavy equipment back in the old barn. Wants to keep this one so visitors can see the kind of clean operation he’s running. A really tight ship. Not like some. You know.” She smirked. “These old ranches with everything looking so rundown and all.”
I watched Miss Amelia, one of those “old” ranchers herself, bite her tongue.
“Well, you’ve got a nice clean business going,” I said. “I suppose you’ll be packing this year. Trees okay?”
Chastity shrugged. “Well, of course they are. But that’s Harry’s department. I keep my hands off the nuts. I’m more interested in our new pavilion. You gotta come see it. I’ll be handling the social side of things. You know, like your Bethany does. Weddings and such. Then we’re thinking of opening a store of our own just like yours only right down by the road, not in town. We won’t be in competition with you folks, or anything like that.”
She stopped talking and turned her large, black-ringed eyes to us. “Not that I’d be much competition for you all anyway. Why, you’re known just everywhere in Texas. I mentioned your name once at a big ‘do’ in Houston and a man said he heard good things about you.”
“Could we see Amos’s . . .” I decided I’d better break in or we’d be standing there in that big empty building forever. “We’ve got so much to do today . . .”
“I heard. Me and Harry were thunderstruck. The sheriff went ahead and arrested Justin! Now what led the man to do a thing like that? You got any idea?”
She peered closely at me.
“Not a clue. Probably be just a short time. Ben Fordyce is working on it. Some mix-up. The sheriff’s got to do what he’s got to do, but he made a mistake. It’ll all be straightened out soon. Now . . .” I looked around like Amos’s room was going to appear out of nowhere.
“Well, me and Harry said, when we heard, what a shame it is. And we’re both just hoping against hope he didn’t really do what people are sayin’ he did.” She stopped to give me a look then stepped over very close. “Harry was saying . . . about Ben Fordyce. You’d better watch ’im. Got a kind of past with Amos himself, is what we heard.”
Miss Amelia moved up beside me. I recognized the icy smile and stayed back, out of her way. “Can we please see Amos’s room?” she asked.
Chastity, looking as though she had more to say on the subject, hesitated only a few seconds more before leading us out through another door in the barn, to a back lean-to.
The room wasn’t large. The roof sloped overhead. Everything in there was old and well used. A rickety cot, set along the inside wall, was piled haphazardly with underwear and socks, all dumped on top of a faded quilt. A brown folding table, set up at the middle of the room, held a few bowls and cereal boxes, along with a can of black pepper and a box of salt. The rest of the table was piled with books, some fallen to the floor, splayed
We were off, out through the large, unused kitchen, where a uniformed woman stood watching TV, and out the back door into heat like liquid fuel. Once we were through the clipped-short grass of a yard filled with lounges and tiny white tables, and out under the tall trees, Miss Amelia gave a sigh of relief, which I understood.
The Conways’ barns were bigger than ours, and newer, and surprisingly empty. Even off-season, when we weren’t packing, our barns were filled with mowers and sprayers and tractors and workers preparing for the picking and packing and shipping season in November. Here, Harry’s pecan bins looked almost untouched. All neatly lined in rows, the wood pale and unused.
“Wow.” I couldn’t help myself.
Chastity preened at what she took to be a compliment. “Whole place is like that. Harry just came in and tore down all that old stuff. Took him one winter to go through everything. Now he’s got the heavy equipment back in the old barn. Wants to keep this one so visitors can see the kind of clean operation he’s running. A really tight ship. Not like some. You know.” She smirked. “These old ranches with everything looking so rundown and all.”
I watched Miss Amelia, one of those “old” ranchers herself, bite her tongue.
“Well, you’ve got a nice clean business going,” I said. “I suppose you’ll be packing this year. Trees okay?”
Chastity shrugged. “Well, of course they are. But that’s Harry’s department. I keep my hands off the nuts. I’m more interested in our new pavilion. You gotta come see it. I’ll be handling the social side of things. You know, like your Bethany does. Weddings and such. Then we’re thinking of opening a store of our own just like yours only right down by the road, not in town. We won’t be in competition with you folks, or anything like that.”
She stopped talking and turned her large, black-ringed eyes to us. “Not that I’d be much competition for you all anyway. Why, you’re known just everywhere in Texas. I mentioned your name once at a big ‘do’ in Houston and a man said he heard good things about you.”
“Could we see Amos’s . . .” I decided I’d better break in or we’d be standing there in that big empty building forever. “We’ve got so much to do today . . .”
“I heard. Me and Harry were thunderstruck. The sheriff went ahead and arrested Justin! Now what led the man to do a thing like that? You got any idea?”
She peered closely at me.
“Not a clue. Probably be just a short time. Ben Fordyce is working on it. Some mix-up. The sheriff’s got to do what he’s got to do, but he made a mistake. It’ll all be straightened out soon. Now . . .” I looked around like Amos’s room was going to appear out of nowhere.
“Well, me and Harry said, when we heard, what a shame it is. And we’re both just hoping against hope he didn’t really do what people are sayin’ he did.” She stopped to give me a look then stepped over very close. “Harry was saying . . . about Ben Fordyce. You’d better watch ’im. Got a kind of past with Amos himself, is what we heard.”
Miss Amelia moved up beside me. I recognized the icy smile and stayed back, out of her way. “Can we please see Amos’s room?” she asked.
Chastity, looking as though she had more to say on the subject, hesitated only a few seconds more before leading us out through another door in the barn, to a back lean-to.
The room wasn’t large. The roof sloped overhead. Everything in there was old and well used. A rickety cot, set along the inside wall, was piled haphazardly with underwear and socks, all dumped on top of a faded quilt. A brown folding table, set up at the middle of the room, held a few bowls and cereal boxes, along with a can of black pepper and a box of salt. The rest of the table was piled with books, some fallen to the floor, splayed
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