The Barn by Sharon L. Dean

Author:Sharon L. Dean [Dean, Sharon L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mystery; amateur sleuth; women’s fiction
ISBN: 9781645990871
Publisher: Encircle Publications
Published: 2020-07-02T16:00:00+00:00

11

Rachel stood frozen in place until she spoke and her posture collapsed. “Now we’ll never find his killer.”

I picked up the book, wanting to bury its accusation in the library discard pile. It was too late. I couldn’t change the past or send Rachel and her investigation back to New Orleans.

She stepped away from me and the book. “I’m scared.”

I was more than scared. Terror, guilt, shame all coursed through my shaking body. “We need to find who’s doing this.”

“How?”

“We’ll start with Seth and Lucille and Hank. Show each of them the book. Watch their reactions.”

“Is that safe?” The past was doing more than haunting Rachel. She’d never been a coward before.

I hugged Deutsch to my chest and led Rachel out of the library, careful to lock the door behind me. “We’ll stop at Seth’s. I’ll ask him about the open door. And the book.”

Outside, the sun warmed our faces. I felt it against the front of my parka and through the gloves I was wearing. The center of town had come alive with people greeting each other the way people do when a blizzard has passed. Curious, even joyful after the snow’s cleansing. The mood would change by nightfall when we would all tire of playing pioneers.

At the church, the men clearing the fallen tree had left only small branches littering the parking lot. Seth had missed his chance. Next to the church, his red house glowed with the sun shining on it against the snow. He’d shoveled only a narrow path to his front door. The scene could have been in a Norman Rockwell painting titled After the Storm.

Rachel stopped at the side of the pathway. “Go to the door. I’ll wait here.”

I couldn’t let her give in to fear. “You’re coming with me.”

We walked through what felt more like a tunnel of snow than a pathway. The bell sounded loud inside when I pressed it. At the window next to the door, I saw Seth move the heavy curtain back. He motioned to us to go away. I shook my head “no” and pressed the bell again.

When he finally came to the door, his bulk covered the entire opening. “Whadaya need?”

“Can we come inside? I have some questions about the library.”

“Ask them out here.”

Rachel saved me from thinking up an excuse. “Deborah has questions, and I’d like to use your bathroom. I’m not used to how this cold makes me need to go. There’s no bucket of water at the library to flush.” When she tried flattery, I knew she’d regained the composure of her childhood. “I remember what a resourceful farmer you were. I’ll bet you’ve got a full bucket right next to your toilet.”

Seth stepped aside to let us in. “Shoulda stayed in New Hampshire ’stead of runnin’ off down South. Don’t know why you came back diggin’ up the past. Bathroom’s to the right through the bedroom. Make it fast.”

Rachel walked slowly to the bathroom, pausing to glance into the kitchen. Seth kept me standing in his living room.

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