Page 53 of Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

Dixie led me over to the counter and we placed our drink orders, including Bill’s. We headed down to the end of the coffee bar to wait for our orders, close to the table of women, and then Dixie glanced over at me and said, “Are you sure your client won’t purchase the old Brewer property without knowin’ its history?”

I restrained myself from kissing her. This was brilliant. People liked to dismiss her for her looks—herself included—but this was just one more example of how quick she actually was. “Yeah. They claim to be afraid of evil spirits, but no one seems to know anything about the history of Jim Bob and Celia Brewer’s farm.”

The conversation at the women’s table had stopped abruptly.

“Excuse me,” one of the women said, leaning toward us. “Did I hear you mention theBrewerfarm?”

Dixie and I turned to face her in unison.

“I’msosorry,” Dixie said, placing her hand on her chest. “Was I talkin’ too loud? I didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation.”

“No. Not at all,” the woman said. Then she lifted her brow and glanced back at her friends, who nodded. Turning back to face me, she said, “But if you’re lookin’ for information on the Brewer property, we might be able to help fill in some of the blanks.”

“Really?” I asked. “That would besohelpful.”

“Pull up some chairs,” one of the other women said. The ladies scooted over, making room for Dixie and me to drag over chairs from the empty table next to us. We grabbed our just-completed drinks and sat down between her and her friend to her left.

The woman whose attention we’d first caught said, “I know Dixie knows who we are, but I’m not sure you remember us, Summer. I’m Linda McCafferty.” She motioned to a woman with snow-white hair and a kind face on the other side of Dixie. “This is Gayle Pierce.” Then she gestured to the woman to her right. “And this is Nancy Faraday.”

Nancy smiled, but there was a spark of judgment in her eyes. “I used to teach you in Sunday school. Surely you know who I am.”

I gave her an apologetic look. “I don’t remember you. I’m sorry.”

She nodded, but she looked a little miffed. “Well, it was a ways back.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Linda grunted. “You worked in the nursery, Nancy. The girl was three years old. How is she supposed to remember you?”

Nancy’s face flushed.

“You said you knew something about the Brewer farm?” I prodded.

“I don’t know anything about the place, so don’t hold back,” Dixie said, eyes wide with excitement. “I want to hear all the juicy details.”

Which was brilliant too. While I knew they were about to spill the tea, they’d be sure to give every last morsel of gossip to entertain Dixie.

“First of all,” Linda said, leaning close to me and putting her hand on my arm, “your client needs to know that the place is unlucky as all get-out.”

I darted a glance to a wide-eyed Dixie, then back to Linda. “How so?”

“There was a murder there,” Nancy whisper-hissed.

“What?” I exclaimed. “Who was murdered?”

“A young woman,” Gayle said with a nod. “She was Jim Bob and Celia Brewer’s daughter. I think her name was Becky…”

“No,” Nancy said, shaking her head. “Bethany.”

“Wow,” I said, hoping I was feigning the right amount of shock. “What happened?”

“No one rightly knows,” Linda said. “The parents were suspects, of course, but the police insisted they were innocent. Only they never had any other suspects. Not even her older sister.”

“So no one thought her older sister did it?” Dixie asked. “They weren’t fighting or anything?”

“Fighting?” Gayle said, pressing a hand to her chest. “Bless me, no. Those girls were best friends.”

“Well,” Nancy said dramatically. “They were untilRachel Swanmoved into Sweet Briar.”

I decided to focus on the sisters before I took the Rachel Swan bait. “So you all knew the sisters? What was the older sister’s name?”

---