Page 64 of Dairy and Deadly

It was all she could do to hold in a sob as she reached for them and clutched them to her chest.Oh, Mom! Why did you have to leave us so soon?

As usual, God wasn’t in the business of answering everywhythat was blubbered in His direction. She might never understand it this side of Glory, but someday she would.

I hope.

Sniffling back tears, she reverently laid aside the doilies and continued her quest through her mother’s belongings. It didn’t take long to find what she was looking for.

A hodgepodge of textbooks and spiral-bound notebooks lined the bottom of the trunk. It soon became obvious that they had been heavily pilfered through. Some of the textbooks had been left open, and the pages had become bent from the clothing tossed on top of them. The spiral notebooks were in even worse shape. Some of the pages had been ripped clean out of them.

She skimmed through a few of them but found nothing that pertained to a pending patent. The same was true about the contents of the other two trunks. She didn’t find a single shred of evidence that was useful. It was starting to look like her entire trip to Dallas had been a bust. Well, maybe not entirely. It had been good to visit with her dad again. Her plan had only been a shot in the dark to begin with. Though she was no closer to finding the answers she sought, she wasn’t any further, either.

As she returned the books to the bottom of the trunk, her knuckles bumped against the bottom of it, making a hollow sound.

Frowning, she removed the stack of books and leaned over the trunk to knock on the bottom of it again. The same hollow sound met her ears.

Heart pounding, she felt along the bottom of the trunk until her fingers came in contact with a leather loop. She pulled upward, and the bottom of the trunk rose. Beneath it was a narrow compartment, only a few inches tall. In the center of it lay an accordion file folder. It was tied shut with a piece of stretchy twine.

This must be it.

Though she hadn’t yet opened the folder, someone had clearly gone to a lot of trouble to conceal it. And from the looks of things, she was the first person who’d uncovered it.

Every instinct in her told her it wouldn’t be wise to linger in the attic for much longer. Glancing around her, she spied her mother’s old leather briefcase.Perfect!

She hastily shoved the accordion folder into one of the side pockets and zipped it shut. Then she filled the rest of the briefcase with mementos — a pair of brown leather gloves, a trio of scarves from Italy, a faded baby quilt, and the precious pair of hand-crocheted doilies. They were going on the nightstands in her rental cabin the second she returned to Heart Lake. She would treasure them forever.

She carefully returned the false floor to the bottom of the trunk and tossed her mother’s textbooks and spiral notebooks on top of them, trying to make them look the same way she found them. Then she closed the lid and piled the wreaths and moving blankets back on top of it.

Looping the strap of the briefcase over her shoulder, she made her way down the ladder, switching off the light and raising the trapdoor back into place. She stood there in silence beneath the attic door.

Bye, Mom.

A sense of closure swept over her. This was exactly what she’d needed, and not just because of the case.

Her father was straightening up the kitchen when she walked back inside.

“Would you like to see what I found?” She fully anticipated he would turn her down, and he did.

“Nah, it’s okay, babe. I’m glad you found a few things you want to keep.”

She held up one of the doilies. “Are you sure you don’t mind if I take these with me?”

He looked pained, but he shook his head. “They’re all yours, hon.”

“Thanks, Dad.” She moved across the room to kiss his cheek. “For everything.” A yawn came out of nowhere, making both of them chuckle.

“Go,” he urged gently. “Get some sleep. We can meet for breakfast in the morning.” A twinkle entered his eyes as he suggested a mom-and-pop pancake house down the street.

“You’re on!” She gave him another peck on the cheek. “What time?”

“The earlier, the better. You know how fast they fill up.”

“Then let’s be first in line.” She preferred to get on the road early.

“You betcha!” He gave her a fist bump like the old days. Then she headed for her car.

It didn’t take long to secure a hotel room and get settled in for the night. As soon as she showered and changed into sweatpants, she pulled out the accordion folder her mother had gone to so much trouble to hide.

Twisting the stretchy twine open, she took out a stack of papers and fanned them out in front of her. What she found made her heart pound. Her mother had typed up a detailed journal that documented her research on the various ways to genetically modify milk. It didn’t sound like she was a proponent of the idea, though. She cited over a dozen dangers of altering the natural process of extracting and bottling raw milk. Her reasons included the reduction of nutrients, as well as the risk of introducing foreign agents like bacteria.

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