it after Horace died.”
“That’s the story they told everyone. That she eloped with one of the itinerant workers who built the silo. That’s why I’m sure that’s when the silo was built.”
“I see. But how is it connected to all the things that have been happening lately? The dirty tricks on your building project, slashed tires, the barn fire?”
“Not to mention all the workers that I’m sure were bribed to quit,” Kyle said grimly. “I think it means someone knew all about this and didn’t want that silo removed. You might start with Alex Porter and Erick Andr ew s. They’ve been the loudest objectors. ”
“Mebbe so,” Sheriff Casey said. “ And don’t forget Sylvia Netters. ”
Kyle winced and looked away, saying nothing.
Jan’s breath caught in her throat and jealousy curled in her gut. Was Kyle protecting his lovely neighbor?
Casey turned back to Jan. “ Can you give me any details of Nancy’s life back then? Her friends and so on?”
Jan shrugged. “Sorry. We were only here for about a year. And don’t forget, I was only ten years old. Nancy was sixteen, so we hardly shared the same circle of friends. And I haven’t seen Uncle Horace since Aunt Esther’s funeral later that same summer.”
“I see. Well, g ive me your mother’s number. I’ll call her and break the news to her. And get her take on this, too.”
He wrote down the number Jan read him from her cell phone. With a long sigh, he rose. “Thanks for the tea, Miss Kerry. I’ll keep in touch. But don’t get your hopes up. A fifteen year old murder won’t be easy to solve.”
Jan nodded and walked with him to the door.
Casey turned and glanced back at Kyle. “You’re staying here with Miss Kerry?”
Kyle returned his look with an equally hard stare. “Yes. After the fire, I didn’t feel it was safe for her to stay here alone.”
“I see.” Casey nodded and left.
Jan closed the door and sighed. “I suppose that means he and all the rest of this little town disapprove.”
“I could care less what they think,” he said, coming back to enfold her in his arms. “I just want you safe. Can you doubt that after last night?”
“No,” she agreed, leaning into his chest.
“Or that it’s necessary?” Kyle added. “With all the nasty things that have been happening out here and then finding her body today…well, it seems evil has been lurking on this farm for many years.”
“I agree,” Jan said. “And all the Bible s and prayers Uncle Horace spouted apparently weren’t enough to ward them off.”
Chapter 8
An hour later, Jan was still sorting books in Horace’s office when the doorbell rang. She sneezed as the moldy smelling dust motes tickled her nose, wiped her dusty hands on the cloth she’d been using to clean books and went to answer it.
“Erick,” she exclaimed as she opened the door to find their real estate broker standing there . “What brings you out here?”
“Your mother called and asked me to check on you,” he said, eying her d irty clothes.
“My mother? Called you from London?” Jan repeated, disbelief making her voice end in a squeak.
“Yes. She said she couldn’t get through to your cell phone,” he said, shifting impatiently. “May I come in?”
Jan hesitated, then opened the door. “I’ve been sorting Horace’s library. I’m a mess.”
“So I see.” Distaste colored his comment. He followed her into the kitchen where she washed her hands at the sink.
“I’ll make some coffee,” she said, waving him to a chair at the round wooden table.
“Why didn’t you answer your cell?” Erick asked.
Jan pulled her cell out of her jeans pocket and looked at the screen. “Low battery. I need to charge it.” She plugged it into the charger on the counter.
Erick whined, “You’d told her about Nancy’s body being found, so she’s worried about your safety out here.”
Jan laughed, glancing at him as she put a filter and grounds into the
“That’s the story they told everyone. That she eloped with one of the itinerant workers who built the silo. That’s why I’m sure that’s when the silo was built.”
“I see. But how is it connected to all the things that have been happening lately? The dirty tricks on your building project, slashed tires, the barn fire?”
“Not to mention all the workers that I’m sure were bribed to quit,” Kyle said grimly. “I think it means someone knew all about this and didn’t want that silo removed. You might start with Alex Porter and Erick Andr ew s. They’ve been the loudest objectors. ”
“Mebbe so,” Sheriff Casey said. “ And don’t forget Sylvia Netters. ”
Kyle winced and looked away, saying nothing.
Jan’s breath caught in her throat and jealousy curled in her gut. Was Kyle protecting his lovely neighbor?
Casey turned back to Jan. “ Can you give me any details of Nancy’s life back then? Her friends and so on?”
Jan shrugged. “Sorry. We were only here for about a year. And don’t forget, I was only ten years old. Nancy was sixteen, so we hardly shared the same circle of friends. And I haven’t seen Uncle Horace since Aunt Esther’s funeral later that same summer.”
“I see. Well, g ive me your mother’s number. I’ll call her and break the news to her. And get her take on this, too.”
He wrote down the number Jan read him from her cell phone. With a long sigh, he rose. “Thanks for the tea, Miss Kerry. I’ll keep in touch. But don’t get your hopes up. A fifteen year old murder won’t be easy to solve.”
Jan nodded and walked with him to the door.
Casey turned and glanced back at Kyle. “You’re staying here with Miss Kerry?”
Kyle returned his look with an equally hard stare. “Yes. After the fire, I didn’t feel it was safe for her to stay here alone.”
“I see.” Casey nodded and left.
Jan closed the door and sighed. “I suppose that means he and all the rest of this little town disapprove.”
“I could care less what they think,” he said, coming back to enfold her in his arms. “I just want you safe. Can you doubt that after last night?”
“No,” she agreed, leaning into his chest.
“Or that it’s necessary?” Kyle added. “With all the nasty things that have been happening out here and then finding her body today…well, it seems evil has been lurking on this farm for many years.”
“I agree,” Jan said. “And all the Bible s and prayers Uncle Horace spouted apparently weren’t enough to ward them off.”
Chapter 8
An hour later, Jan was still sorting books in Horace’s office when the doorbell rang. She sneezed as the moldy smelling dust motes tickled her nose, wiped her dusty hands on the cloth she’d been using to clean books and went to answer it.
“Erick,” she exclaimed as she opened the door to find their real estate broker standing there . “What brings you out here?”
“Your mother called and asked me to check on you,” he said, eying her d irty clothes.
“My mother? Called you from London?” Jan repeated, disbelief making her voice end in a squeak.
“Yes. She said she couldn’t get through to your cell phone,” he said, shifting impatiently. “May I come in?”
Jan hesitated, then opened the door. “I’ve been sorting Horace’s library. I’m a mess.”
“So I see.” Distaste colored his comment. He followed her into the kitchen where she washed her hands at the sink.
“I’ll make some coffee,” she said, waving him to a chair at the round wooden table.
“Why didn’t you answer your cell?” Erick asked.
Jan pulled her cell out of her jeans pocket and looked at the screen. “Low battery. I need to charge it.” She plugged it into the charger on the counter.
Erick whined, “You’d told her about Nancy’s body being found, so she’s worried about your safety out here.”
Jan laughed, glancing at him as she put a filter and grounds into the
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