Chapter 11
Eleven
E than slammed the phone down.
Was there no end to the torture Jane Goodwin was putting him through? Today would mark the third trip out to her farm and the second today. She refused to tell him what was wrong, just that she needed to see him.
He could have sent Adam to talk to Jane since the two of them seemed to get along well, but he was curious. So far, it was just minor incidents: a broken barn window and items being moved around. Both of which could be blamed on kids. So he couldn’t imagine what it could be this time.
The research he’d done on Bucky revealed that indeed, the man had served a three-year stint in prison for assault and battery. It made him wonder why Bucky really came to Beaver Creek.
Did he lie when he told Ethan his father used to fish here? How did he end up at Jane’s farm? Coincidence? Ethan didn’t believe in coincidences. Was Jane in trouble? That was a laugh. The ex-mystery writer was trouble with a capital T .
Ethan hoped the convicted felon had turned over a new leaf. He vowed to keep his eyes open.
There hadn’t been any major crimes in town for a while, only the typical small-town stuff: DUIs, drug busts, animals getting loose, minor thefts. And he wanted to keep it that way, although he was involved in a few annoyance claims, like being called to the properties Maggie Thornton and Mark Sutton owned.
Mark had called the police because Maggie threatened to put up a gate on the shared drive, preventing access to his property from his end. It was only words right now, but if Maggie was anything like her father, David, it could escalate real soon. Since the town owned land at the other end of the drive, the mayor got involved. Maggie was told to back off, which she reluctantly did. But for how long, and what other trouble would she create?
“Nora, I’m off to check out another problem at Jenkins’s farm,” he said.
Nora pushed her glasses up and smiled. “Sure thing, Ethan. You say hello to that sweet young woman for me.”
Sweet? Jane was anything but sweet. Maybe to others but not to him. Somehow, she seemed to have convinced the townspeople otherwise.
“Yeah. Right,” Ethan replied.
“Oh, Ethan, give her a chance,” Nora chided. “She’s really trying to fit in here and has done nothing wrong.”
“Not so sure about that.” Ethan put on his jacket and walked to his truck. There was a nip in the air, and he took a deep, cleansing breath.
As he drove out to the farm, he thought he’d stop by to see how Tanner was doing after he talked to Jane. While Ethan lived at his family’s farm, Tanner’s workload and odd hours prevented them from spending much time together.
The other pressing matter was what to do about Bucky. Should he confront him about his past or keep an eye on him?
Maybe he’d wait, watch him and see if Bucky had nefarious business in town. Not giving someone a second chance was out of character for him, but Corinne’s betrayal affected him.
Ethan passed the horse farm and waved to the owner, Sue, who stood in the middle of the ring watching a class of young kids ride around in a circle. The ring she had built by the barn was perfect for beginning students.
He laughed to himself, remembering a date he and Corrine had. She had never ridden a horse before, so one time, when they were about fifteen, he planned what he thought was the perfect date.
He rented two horses. One was Tilly, a sweet older horse, perfect for Corrine. The plan was to ride along a trail in the woods, stop, picnic by the lake, kiss—a lot—and then ride home.
Well, that plan had been a bust. Corrine did something to her horse, causing Tilly to take off at a trot, and she couldn’t control her. She was screaming for the horse to stop, her ass bouncing up and down in the saddle, and Ethan laughed. Not his finest moment, but it was funny.
He managed to stop the horse. Thankfully, Tilly was only slightly winded, and Corrine wasn’t hurt. Corrine angrily walked all the way back to the barn, cursing at him and the beast the whole time, and never got on a horse again.
He should have known then that Corrine wasn’t cut out for country living. She hated hay, the smell of manure, animals, dirt. Ugh, the list went on and on.
Bah. Enough of Corrine. Ethan pulled into Jane’s driveway. Bucky’s car wasn’t there, so he’d probably finished for the day.
Ethan walked onto the wide front porch and knocked. Jane answered. She still had on her clothes from earlier.
She was barefoot, and he couldn’t help noticing her pink toenails. And why was he looking at her toes, anyway? Focus, Ethan.
“Hi.” Jane gave him a small smile. “Thanks for coming.” She nodded toward the kitchen.
A pile of mail was on the kitchen table. Jars of what looked like homemade applesauce sat on the counter.
Ethan looked around the comfortable space. He’d been here years ago and remembered a couple of cabinets, stove, refrigerator and a table. Jane had completely renovated the space. Large windows along one wall let in the afternoon light and looked over the golden hayfields to Sugarbush Farm. He saw Tanner moving the cows into the barn.
Rustic wooden ceiling beams and hanging pendant lights gave it a homey feel. New dark blue cabinets and open shelving were along two walls with white marble countertops. A commercial gas stove with a huge hood was on another wall. A wooden table made from wide pine boards with six chairs sat in the middle, an old rug underneath.
“Did Clarence make this?” he asked, running his hand over the table, feeling the burls in the wood. “This wood is probably a hundred years old. They don’t cut wide boards like this anymore.”
Jane nodded. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Clarence is very talented.”
“So,” Jane started, then sighed, took a deep breath and continued. “I bet you’re wondering why I asked you to come over?”
“Crossed my mind.” Sarcastic much, Ethan?
“Sorry. Have a seat. I want to show you something,” she replied. “Oh, would you like something to drink? Coffee, tea, water?”
“I’m all set. What do you want to show me?” Ethan pulled out a chair and sat. He wanted to shout just get it out, woman, but his mother taught him better than that.
Jane picked up a white envelope from the pile. “I was opening mail that my friend brought in. Some of it was from Boston and some from here.” She shoved the envelope at him. “Here. Tell me what you think?”
Ethan picked up the envelope by the corner. No stamp, no address, just her name on the front. A piece of paper was inside, and he removed it.
He stared at the words: “You have something I want.” He turned the paper over. There was nothing on the other side. It looked to be part of photocopy paper. Jane hadn’t said a word. The silence in the kitchen was only interrupted by the ticking of the grandfather clock he passed in the living room.
“What does this mean?” He crinkled his brow. “When did this come?”
“I have no idea what it means, and I don’t know when it came,” Jane replied. “I get little mail here, so checking the mailbox is not something I regularly do.”
Ethan rubbed his temples, took a minute to collect his thoughts. “Okay then.” He tapped the table with his fingers. “It probably came from someone around here. What could someone possibly want from you?”
She shook her head, her chin trembling. “Do you think this has something to do with the broken window or items moved around the barn?”
“I still believe kids did that. This note is personal. Could it be someone from your past?” He leaned back in his chair. “Or Bucky?” As a well-known mystery writer, Jane had to do a lot of research and probably engaged with criminals and the police.
Jane opened her mouth to reply, then furrowed her brow. “What are you asking me? Do you think I’m lying or bringing trouble here? And why are you bringing Bucky into this?”
Crap. He really did it this time. “You know Bucky is a convicted felon? He served three years in prison for assault and battery.”
Her eyes widened. She hadn’t known.
“Yes. I knew,” she said with a straight face. “I believe everyone deserves a second chance. Are you accusing him of harassing me?”
It had occurred to Ethan. However, he had to get a handle on who Jane interacted with in town and who might be a suspect. Bucky was at the top of the slim list. Then the thought that maybe Jane and Bucky were in this together crossed his mind. That was stupid. Why would they be? Especially if she was reporting it to the sheriff. Ugh. His mind was driving him crazy. Despite his reluctance to admit it to himself, he greatly admired her ability to establish a new life for herself and felt strangely attracted to her.
Oh, no way in hell.
Where did that thought come from?
Ever since Corinne broke his heart and soul, he wasn’t into women anymore and definitely not attracted to the sexy, good-looking woman from the city who kept him on his toes—no, sir. Not him.
“Not accusing, just advising caution. This isn’t a big city, but you still need to keep your eyes open and be aware of your circumstances.”
“Humph.” Jane huffed. “I’m not unaware of anything. You can’t live in a city like Boston and not take precautions. So, are you going to take this seriously or just throw your hands up and tell me I’m crazy?”
Ethan stood. “Jane, you’re not crazy, and I am taking this seriously.” He pocketed the envelope. No sense worrying about fingerprints. Ethan was sure so many people had handled it, they’d never be able to narrow it down.
“I’ll hold on to this for the time being.” He walked toward the front door, then turned. “If you hear or see anything else, call me.”
Jane followed him out. “Thank you.”
As Ethan walked toward his truck, a pang of guilt nagged at him. He was being a dick to a woman. Not just a woman, but someone he swore to protect as a sheriff. Damn. He could blame it on Corrine, but after all this time, he could admit to himself that it wasn’t her—it was his attitude, and he needed to fix it.