Free Town in a Strawberry Swirl (Candy Holliday Mystery) by B.B. Haywood Page B

said, sounding a little defensive, “and like I said, it was on sale.”
    Still, Candy pressed him. “Yes, but
why
, Dad?”
    It took Doc a moment but he finally realized what she was getting at. “Ahh,” he said, throwing back his head, “I suppose I bought the new one because I couldn’t find the old one when I needed it.”
    “Exactly,” Candy said, holding a finger up in the air to make her point, “which means the old shovel disappeared sometime during or before March. Did we have anyone out to the farm at that time? Anything special going on that month that you remember?”
    Doc scratched his head as he thought. “Well, just lots of snow. We had that string of snowstorms and roller-coaster weather. We wouldn’t have used the digging shovel much during that time. We had the snow shovels out a lot, though.” He paused, and his face clouded. “But there was that one time . . .”
    He paused again, blinked several times, and snapped his fingers. “That’s it!”
    “That’s what?” Candy asked.
    “Those spring snowstorms we had. They were pretty wet and heavy. The snow melted quickly during the day, then froze up at night.”
    “Icicles,” Candy said. She felt a tinge of excitement as the realization dawned on her.
    “That’s right. I think I used that old shovel to knock some icicles off the house. They can get pretty long and scary-looking, you know. You don’t want one dropping down on the top of your head as you’re passing by. It could be mighty painful.”
    “So what happened to the shovel after you knocked down the icicles?”
    “Well, after I finished here at our house, I ran into town to help some of the older folks knock down the longer icicles from under their eaves and make it a little safer to walk outside their houses.”
    “Do you remember where you went?”
    “Sure do, now that I think of it.” Doc nodded. “I made three stops that afternoon, first at Mrs. Fairweather’s. Then I swung by Sally Ann Longfellow’s place, and finally I ran out to see the Gumms, since Gus was out of action this spring due to that back surgery he had.” Doc caught his daughter’s eye. “I must have left the shovel at one of their places.”

NINE

    For a few moments both were silent, surprised by their discovery. “Wow, how about that?” Doc said finally, sounding a little pleased with himself. “We actually figured something out.”
    “We did,” Candy said, “and it just might help us find out what really happened to Miles.”
    “It certainly might,” Doc agreed. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it earlier. I guess my brain isn’t working right today.”
    “It’s to be expected, after what you’ve been through,” Candy said supportively. “At least you remembered.”
    “With your help. It’s like you said—I bought that new shovel for a reason. I just didn’t remember why.”
    “It’d be hard to prove in court, though,” Candy said thoughtfully, “if it ever came to that, I mean—to prove it wasn’t in your possession when Miles was killed. Are you sure that’s what happened to it? You left it at one of your stops that day?”
    “I’m positive.” Doc nodded a single time for emphasis. “I remember throwing it into the back of the truck and driving into town. It’s clear as day in my mind right now.”
    “Then you know what this means?”
    “What?”
    “It means that one of those three or four people you just mentioned—Mrs. Fairweather, the Gumms, or Sally Ann—might be the person who killed Miles Crawford and left the shovel beside his body.”
    Doc snorted. “That’s impossible. Those folks are all in their seventies or eighties. Some might be pushing ninety. I think Mrs. Fairweather is in line for the cane, isn’t she?” It was a tradition in some New England villages to award an honorary cane to the oldest person in town. “I’m not sure she could even lift a shovel, let alone swing it that hard. Neither could any of the others.”
    “What