Free Three Can Keep a Secret by Judy Clemens Page B

wouldn’t go after the cop out of frustration. “Sorry to drag you over here again.”
    “No worries. Let me see what you’ve got.”
    I took her to the garage, Queenie at my heels, and she sized it up. “Nasty words. Any idea who did this, and why they would say this about you?”
    “Not about me. About my new farmhand. At least, she just came yesterday, and I’ve never had trouble like this before.” Besides, if I’d been sleeping with anyone, let alone multiple people, I sure didn’t know about it.
    “How about the vandals? Did you get a look at them?”
    “They wore masks, so I couldn’t see their faces. But they weren’t huge. I mean, not fat, not too tall. Five-nine or -ten at the most. And the way they moved they weren’t old. The one managed to get away from Queenie, and her teeth were well sunk into him.”
    “Him?”
    I shrugged. “Wasn’t much to the chest, as far as I could see, on either one, but it all happened pretty fast.”
    Stern scribbled on her clipboard. “What did your employee say?”
    “Nothing, yet.”
    “Can I talk to her?”
    “Sure. She lives up there.”
    Officer Stern trotted up the stairs for a short conversation with Lucy. I stayed away, figuring Lucy might say more with me out of the picture. Stern soon came down.
    “I’ll take a couple of photos and have you sign a complaint. If Detective Willard wants to take it further, he’ll contact you tomorrow.”
    “Fine. They also left that.” I pointed toward the brown wool blanket that had covered Queenie’s head. “Don’t know that it can help you, but I sure don’t want it.”
    She grabbed a garbage bag from her trunk and carefully placed the blanket inside it. Next she got her Polaroid and snapped pictures of each offensive word.
    “I guess that’s it for now,” she said. “Let us know if it happens again.”
    “I will. Thanks for coming out.”
    “As I said, I’m glad to do it. Sorry it happened to you.”
    “Can we paint over it?” I asked.
    She considered it briefly. “It’s not like we’ll lift any fingerprints. And I’ve got photos. Should be fine.”
    Her taillights disappeared down the lane. Lucy’s door remained closed, and I thought it best if I didn’t go up. If she wanted to talk, she’d be down there with me, not shut in her apartment. And I was angry enough—at the vandals and at her for bringing this to my farm—that I knew I’d say something I’d regret.
    “You’re a brave girl,” I told Queenie, rubbing her back. “You done good.” She panted and sniffed my face, her eyes still sparkling with anxiety. I left her on the front step, her ears perked, eyes darting toward every tiny movement. She wouldn’t sleep tonight.
    I snapped off the floodlights, immersing the yard in darkness. Then I went to bed, where I soon realized I wouldn’t be sleeping any more, either.

Chapter Fourteen
    I sat in my kitchen the next day, my feet up on a chair, trying to cool off. Lucy and I had put in a full morning’s work—the garage was now completely white again, thanks to her heartfelt efforts—and I was hot, sweaty, and exhausted. Crabby, too, seeing as how I had a new employee who just might be a murderer and have some major issues with men.
    I finished my scrambled egg sandwich and checked the clock. Lucy had left for the hardware store, and I decided I could use a break. Lenny had never gotten around to setting a time to meet Willard, so I thought I’d drive over to the Barn and see if he was ready to go. I hadn’t heard from Willard yet that morning about the graffiti, so taking Lenny to the police station would give me a chance to tell the detective firsthand about our night visitors. I drained my glass of milk, dumped the dishes in the sink, and went out to my truck.
    Queenie hung her head out the window on the way to the Biker Barn, her drool splattering onto the extended cab’s window. She loved having an outing now and again, and the guys always liked seeing her.
    Well, they