Page 11 of Pumpkin Patch Peril
Suddenly, they heard the scraping sound of something heavy being moved away from the doors. Everyone froze, phones in mid-dial.
The massive barn doors slowly slid open, revealing a rectangle of afternoon sunlight and a very confused-looking Brenda Mossberry.
“What in the world are you ladies doing?” Brenda asked, taking in the scene before her: four elderly women sitting in a circle on her barn floor, surrounded by the complete contents of their purses, with enough equipment to outfit a small expedition.
“Would you believe we were conducting a very thorough investigation?” Mona offered weakly.
“In the dark?”
“We encountered some... technical difficulties,” Helen said diplomatically.
Brenda examined the heavy wooden doors more closely. “Why do you have the doors closed?”
“We didn’t close them. They slammed shut,” Ida said.
“And they were locked!” Ruth added.
“It wasn’t you closing the door because you didn’t know we were in here?” Ruth asked.
“No, I just got home and heard someone screaming, so I came down.”
“That was Helen,” Ida said. “The door drop bar was down and we couldn’t get the doors open. That could only be done from the outside.”
Brenda frowned, then her eyes widened. “Someone locked you in on purpose!”
“But why would someone lock us in?” Ida asked with a puzzled expression.
Brenda’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “To keep you from unmasking them, maybe? That’s exactly something Gertrude would do—trap potential witnesses so she could cover her tracks. You know, maybe this is getting too dangerous for you all. If someone were willing to lock you in here...”
But her words only seemed to steel their resolve. Ida straightened her shoulders. “All the more reason to catch this thief.”
“Exactly,” Mona agreed firmly. “No one traps us and gets away with it.”
Brenda looked thoughtful as the four ladies reassembled their portable survival kits. “Well, if you’re determined to continue, who am I to stop you?”
As the four ladies reassembled their purses, Ruth looked around the barn thoughtfully. “Brenda, how would someone actually move a five hundred pound pumpkin out of here? It’s not like you can just pick it up.”
“Well,” Brenda said, “I used a tractor with a front loader to get it in here. Only way to handle something that size safely.”
“So the thief would need a tractor too,” Helen said.
“Had to,” Brenda agreed.
“But how would someone get a tractor here?” Mona asked, stuffing her multi-tool back into her purse. “Gertrude’s farm is five miles away by road. She couldn’t just drive it down Main Street at midnight without someone noticing.”
“That’s true,” Brenda said slowly. “If I were going to steal a giant pumpkin, I’d probably trailer the tractor to Mason Road, down near the back forty. Then drive it across the field, nab the pumpkin, and drive back the same way. Much more discreet than taking the main roads.”
The four ladies exchanged meaningful glances.
“Mason Road runs along the back of your property?” Mona asked.
“Right along the edge between my property and Knowles. There’s an old farm gate back there that I never bother to lock. Easy access to the fields if you know where to look.”
“And,” Ruth said slowly, “tractor tires would leave tracks in soft ground.”
“Especially after Sunday night’s rain,” Helen added. “The ground would have been perfect for preserving tire impressions.”
Ida shouldered her purse with the satisfied air of someone whose detective work was paying off. “Guess we’d better go look for tractor tracks.”
