Free Farm Fresh Murder by Paige Shelton

wasn’t sure how to sound coherent. Fortunately, the officer remained calm.
    “Where are you?”
    “Driving away from my house.”
    “Meet me in the front of Bailey’s. I’ll send a car out to your place and we’ll go back together.”
    “You got it.” And, for the second time in as many days, I almost reached the speed limit as I pushed my truck down the highway and prayed that all farming equipment was safely off the road.

Seven

    “Show me again,” Officer Brion said as we stood on the porch. He was not in his uniform but dressed instead in jeans and an old shirt. He smelled of gasoline—he’d just finished mowing his lawn when I’d called, and he looked terribly human with a smudge of something on his cheek and his short hair free from its slicked-back stronghold.
    “They were standing about here. I saw the shadow do this.” I did a crouch maneuver.
    “No one in the house, sir.” Another police officer, in uniform, stepped out the front door. Her name was Vivienne Norton, and she had a soft voice but bigger biceps and wider shoulders than most men I knew. Her hair was bleached, and she wore her makeup thick and her uniform tight. She was an odd mix of feminine and masculine. I wondered if she carried a wallet or a bag. “Ma’am, it looks as if nothing was disturbed, but I’d like for you to take a look with me.”
    “Sure.” I stood from the crouch and looked at Officer Brion. “Now?”
    He nodded and then turned to scan my property as I went inside with the other officer. Officer Brion, or Sam, as he’d told me to call him, had reached Bailey’s in record time. I’d mostly calmed by the time I got there, so I was able to explain what I thought I’d seen—and by that time, I seriously wondered if I really had seen anything. I’d left the house so quickly.
    I also wondered if he’d be irritated that I’d called him, but he wasn’t. He assured me that I’d done the right thing and we both drove back to my house, me following him in his old Mustang.
    Officers Norton and Sanford met us. Sanford, a burly guy with a big mustache, was off looking through my barn as I followed the alert Officer Norton. She didn’t have her gun drawn, but she kept her hand on her belt as she led the way and seemed to look at everything.
    “Ms. Robins, please look closely and let me know if something doesn’t look right. Anything. Even if you’re not completely sure.”
    I looked everywhere. Nothing was out of place—well, nothing that hadn’t been out of place before. My dining table was covered in paperwork—bills, statements, junk mail. I’d planned on cleaning that up soon—I’d always planned on cleaning that up soon. Last week’s newspaper was still folded and wrapped in bright orange plastic, placed on the table next to the couch that I hadn’t spent much time on lately. My house was too large for just one person, and weeks could pass when I lived only in the bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and dining room. Mostly, I was in the barn.
    Fortunately, both my kitchen and bathroom were spotless. I might not be tidy, but I was clean. Sadly, my bed wasn’t made, but that particular habit wasn’t going to change just because the police now knew about it.
    “Nothing strange at all. Nope. Nuh-uh,” I muttered as we did the walk-through.
    By the time we finished both the house and the barn, I was convinced that there was no one unwelcome on my property and maybe I’d imagined the whole thing.
    I stood on the front porch with Officers Norton and Sanford as we waited for Officer Brion to reappear. His Mustang was still parked next to the police car, but no one knew where he’d gone. I was somewhat concerned about him, but the other officers assured me that he was fine, just checking in some hidden cranny that no one else had noticed.
    “It’s what he’s the best at,” Officer Norton said, sharing a secret smile with Sanford.
    “Yeah,” Sanford added, “if there’s a needle in any haystack, he’ll