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Merry Market Murder(22)

By:Paige Shelton


I shrugged. “Lots of reasons, but his stall isn’t far from the front of the market. Maybe he prefers to go into the front.”

“What would be some other reasons?”

“He’d unloaded and then left, took a break. It happens a lot. We have to leave to do something. Neighboring vendors take care of customers for us. Jeannine helps out Brenton all the time. . . .”

“What?”

“Well, normally Brenton helps out Jeannine, too, but she had to ask Barry to help her—that was today, so that’s understandable, but I wonder if Brenton’s been away from the market a lot lately. If so, that might mean something or nothing at all. Those busy times happen to us all, but remind me to show you something in a second.”

“Okay.”

“Anyway, sometimes we just unload our inventory and then move our vehicles to the front lot. If we need to get out of there quickly and if we think most of our inventory will be gone, the front lot’s much easier to get out of than the back areas. I don’t know if it’s anything important, but your question about why he was coming in that way might be a really good one. You might want to find out if Brenton’s been up to something away from the market.”

“I will. What did you want to show me?”

“Wait, I still have more information to tell you. I should have told Vivienne, but I didn’t want to.”

“Becca, Vivienne’s a great cop, and I’m not supposed to be questioning you at all. In fact, what we’re doing now isn’t the best of ideas. Tell me what you need to, but I’ll probably have you tell her, too.”

“The reason I didn’t . . .” The reason I hadn’t told Officer Norton was to protect Allison, but that didn’t seem so necessary with Sam. “Anyway, that’s not important. It’s about the contracts between Bailey’s and the tree farmers. I think Officer Norton knew a little something about them but not the details. Did Allison tell you anything?”

“No, but our time was cut short because of Brenton’s behavior, and I know she also talked to Vivienne. She mentioned that she’d send me some paperwork that might be relevant, but I haven’t seen it yet.”

I was sure she meant the contracts. I told him about the odd similarities and differences between the two vendors’ paperwork, about the fact that the Bailey’s owners wouldn’t have ever promised exclusivity to two vendors; that wasn’t how they did business.

“That’s great information, Becca. Thank you. I’ll get on that first thing in the morning. I should have gone back to talk to Allison, but I got caught up doing other things.”

I think Sam was still pleasantly surprised when I was so forthcoming with any information that I had. Keeping secrets from the police was another hard habit to break, but I was working on it.

“You’re welcome.”

“Okay, now what did you want to show me?”

“Hang on a second.” I hurried to the kitchen and grabbed the decorated eggshell.

“I found this in my truck.” I sat in the chair next to Sam instead of the one across the table as I handed him the ornament.

“What is it?”

“As far as I can tell, it’s a decorated eggshell, made into an ornament. It reminds me of elementary school presents we made for our parents.”

“Who’s it from?”

“I guess I have a secret admirer, a Secret Santa.”

“Nah, I’m not a secret anymore.” Sam smiled. “You really don’t have any idea who put it in your truck?”

“No clue, but there is a little more to the story.”

Sam nodded and I told him about Jeannine’s alleged egg theft.

“Someone stole six eggs just so they could make you an ornament? That sounds . . .”

“Unreasonably far-fetched?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe it was someone who bought eggs, maybe this egg has nothing to do with Jeannine’s eggs, but I’ve tied the two stories together just because.”

“It could be pure coincidence, but I don’t know. Does 1987 mean anything to you? Is it secret code for something?”

“Not really. The thought crossed my mind that 1987 was the year that Ian was born, but that probably doesn’t mean much.” I bit my cheek. Sam and I had talked about Ian plenty, but it still made me somewhat uncomfortable.

Sam looked at me, a half smile pulling at his mouth. “That’s possible, but I can’t see Ian going to such measures, even if he is your secret admirer. He’s much better artistically than this, too.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“You care if I ask him about it, if I feel like I need to? That will only happen if I think it might lead to something more important. As it is, it’s just a cute gift, but with the potential theft—small though it might be—and the murder . . . you never know.”