Page 16 of Her Dying Secret

Jon said, “That sounds right. She was here this morning. She comes every Sunday at the same time and rides Petunia.”

“Was anyone with her?” asked Gretchen.

Rebecca slowly shook her head. “No. Why?”

“She had a passenger in the car with her,” said Josie.

Jon and Rebecca exchanged a puzzled look. Jon said, “She always comes alone. Do you think—do you think maybe this passenger was the one who stabbed her?”

Rebecca said, “Where would she have picked up a passenger?”

“Was there anyone else here this morning?” asked Josie. “Other clients?”

“Sure,” said Rebecca. “Sunday mornings tend to be busy. Most of those clients are gone now but we’ve still got two riders out. I didn’t see Mira talking with any of them, though. Nobody left at or near the time she did. She was alone. She keeps to herself.”

“She’s very quiet,” Jon added.

From the stables, a horse nickered. Josie said, “Does Mira come into contact with any children here?”

“I don’t think so,” Rebecca replied. “We have children’s programs, but Mira isn’t usually here during those hours. I’ve never seen her interacting with any of the children here.”

Jon pushed a hand through his hair. “Me either.”

“Do you two have children?” asked Josie.

“No,” Rebecca said with a strained smile. “It wasn’t in the cards for us.”

“Nieces? Nephews?” Gretchen pressed.

“None, I’m afraid,” Rebecca answered.

Josie pulled up the photo of the child’s drawing. Before leaving the hospital, she’d cropped out the smears of blood. She showed it to Rebecca. “Does this look familiar?”

She studied it. “Is that an eye?”

Jon sidled up to her so that he could see it as well. There was no recognition in either of their faces.

“We’re not sure,” Gretchen said. “Are there any children who are here regularly who might have drawn that?”

“No,” Jon said. “We don’t really do that sort of thing. Heck, we don’t even have crayons in the house.”

“I honestly have no idea,” Rebecca answered. “When they’re here, they work with the horses. I have no idea what they do when they leave here. I’m sure all of them draw pictures, but if you’re asking me if this drawing looks like something I would recognize as belonging to a specific child, the answer is no.”

Another nicker came from the stables, followed by a banging sound. Jon sighed. “That will be Nutmeg wanting attention.”

“She can wait,” Rebecca said. “Why are you asking us about children?”

Josie pocketed her phone. “We believe that Mira or her passenger might have had contact with a child prior to the incident today. How about the produce stand alongside the driveway? Is that in use?”

“Not currently,” Rebecca replied. “Next month, I expect we’ll begin stocking it. We’ve got a garden on one of our lower fields and in the summer, if we’ve got surplus, we put it out there. Depending on the kind of year we’re having and the weather, sometimes that thing is empty all year round.”

“It’s mostly clients who use it when it’s stocked,” said Jon. “They take what they need and leave a few dollars—or sometimes they leave other things in exchange, like firewood or hay. People are pretty good about it.”

Rebecca smiled. “It’s the faith system. We put good faith in people. We haven’t been disappointed yet.”

Josie had seen these types of stands in many places in rural Pennsylvania. She’d even seen some of them that had mini-fridges stocked with eggs. Those were usually close enough to the residence to be plugged in. Just as Jon said, she’d seen stands stocked exclusively with excess firewood bearing signs that told people to take what they needed and leave what they could afford.

Gretchen said, “We’re going to need a list of all the other clients who were here this morning, if you don’t mind.”

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