Deadly Row to Hoe by Cricket McRae

bowl toward me. “Nice job, darlin’. How does he know her?”
    “Apparently they grew up together, out on Camano Island. Some kind of a commune.” I snagged a piece of tomato drowning in vinaigrette.
    Kelly looked skeptical. “Really?”
    I licked barbecue sauce off my fingers. “Yep. Sounds like kind of a weird upbringing. Bunch of families, home schooling, living off the land—at least that’s the way Nate described it. And guess who else was part of the commune?”
    “Who?” Meghan asked dutifully.
    “Tom and Allie Turner.”
    Barr sat back and whistled. “So they lied to me last night.”
    “Well, I talked to Allie about that.”
    “Sophie Mae!” Meghan protested.
    My husband pressed his lips together but didn’t say anything.
    “I was careful—didn’t even go into the house. But I’d spent hours bracing the other members, not to mention the whole business of making Bette fuss with that photo this morning, all because those two were too afraid to admit that they knew Ms. Klick.” I took a bite of molasses-laced beans and nearly moaned.
    “Is that what Allie told you?” Barr asked. “That they were afraid?”
    “More or less.” I glanced at Erin. “I’ll fill you in on the rest after dinner.”
    She scowled at me. “I’m twelve years old, Sophie Mae. I think I can handle it.”
    “A fact you seem to be bringing up a lot,” Meghan said.
    Erin pushed back from the table. “Fine. I’m going in my room and shutting the door and turning on my music so you can talk all you want without having to worry about offending my tender ears.” She stomped out of the room. We heard the music come on, and then the door closed.
    “Stop gritting your teeth,” I said to Meghan.
    Kelly held up a finger and quietly stood. Our eyes met, and I nodded.
    “So then Allie said after the commune broke up they all ran away and joined the circus.” I spoke a little louder than necessary.
    Meghan’s forehead creased, and then understanding dawned. Barr looked amused as Kelly sidled to the doorway and peeked around the edge.
    “Gotcha.”
    “Kellleeeeee! Geesh, what a sneak.” Erin’s voice came from the other side of the wall.
    “Takes one to know one,” I called.
    This time when her bedroom door closed, she was on the inside.
    Barr laughed, and Meghan shook her head. As long as Erin had been so kind as to absent herself, I quickly filled them in on Hallie’s behavior in Nate’s trailer and Allie’s tale of Darla at the commune, finishing with, “So Allie says she didn’t really know her that well, and couldn’t be sure that was her in the picture. But she sure remembered Darla accosting her husband.”
    My dear husband looked unconvinced. “You didn’t talk to Tom?”
    I shook my head. “Left that for you to do.” I gnawed on a tender pork rib.
    Barr sighed and looked at his watch. “Yeah. I guess I should. Nate, too. Save me a piece of strudel, ’K?” Within seconds he was dialing his phone. “Sergeant? Looks like the Jane Doe is named Darla Klick … Yeah … Sophie Mae did. I’m going out to talk to Nate Snow. He lives out at the Turner farm, and that’s who identified her … right … next of kin. Let me know what you find out.”
    He grabbed his jacket, kissed me, and hurried out.
    “Bug, come get some dessert,” Meghan called. Miraculously, Erin responded, almost as if she was waiting for the summons. Maybe it was the strudel, or maybe she felt a little sheepish about trying to pull one over on us.
    But I sat stunned. Next of kin . Darla hadn’t just been Nate Snow’s childhood friend and an ornithologist who took the time to talk to Erin about merlins. She was any number of other things: daughter, sister, maybe even wife and mother, though Nate hadn’t said anything about her being married.
    Which made me think about my parents and how they’d lost a son, how it had devastated them for years. How I’d lost a brother.
    How I couldn’t imagine losing a child. The thought bolted