Page 44 of Pumpkin Patch Peril
Brenda’s confident expression began to waver slightly.
“You told us the pumpkin was in your barn,” Mona continued, her voice carrying clearly through the tent. “Gertrude would have had to use a tractor to haul it away, so we inspected the tire tracks.”
She paused dramatically, letting the tension build. “Gertrude’s tractor did not match.”
The crowd murmured with growing interest. Gertrude looked vindicated but puzzled.
“Neither did the Knowles’.” Gasps erupted from various corners of the tent, and Mona raised her hand for quiet. “Yes, I had to suspect them because they’re next door to Brenda, and there’s an ongoing dispute over Brenda’s use of pesticides since the Wilkersons’ farm is certified organic.”
Tom Knowles shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “But why would that make me steal a pumpkin?”
Mona shrugged slightly. “Spite, perhaps. Neighbor disputes can escalate in unexpected ways.”
“I would never stoop to theft,” Tom said firmly, his voice carrying a note of wounded dignity.
“We know that now,” Mona acknowledged. “Your tractor tires didn’t match the tracks either. However...” She paused again, scanning the crowd, “we did find something interesting inBrenda’s barn. A charm—one of those delicate silver pieces that Ivy makes.”
More gasps rippled through the crowd like a wave. Several people turned to look at Ivy, who was sitting near the back, her face pale with shock.
“Don’t worry, Ivy,” Mona said gently. “The charm didn’t belong to you.”
She turned deliberately to face the other side of the tent. “It belonged to Laura Henderson.”
The gasping intensified. Laura Henderson stood up abruptly, her chair scraping against the ground. “Now wait just a minute?—”
“Laura!” Brenda exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger. “You stole my pumpkin!”
Mona shook her head slowly. “No, Brenda. Laura didn’t steal your pumpkin.”
The tent fell silent again, the contradiction hanging in the air.
“But she was in your barn,” Mona continued. “Not to steal a pumpkin, though. She was there to steal something else entirely—some of your pesticide-laden fertilizer.”
Brenda’s forehead wrinkled in genuine confusion. “What? Why would she want that?”
“She wanted to get rid of it. Dispose of it properly so it wouldn’t contaminate the earth and water.”
“That’s expensive!” Brenda yelled. “You owe me for that!”
Mona cut in before the argument could escalate. “The funny thing is Laura didn’t see any giant pumpkin in your barn when she was there.”
“Well, it must have already been stolen by then!” Brenda insisted, but there was a note of desperation creeping into her voice.
Mona shook her head slowly, her expression thoughtful. “I don’t think so, Brenda. Laura was there when you were at thebean supper on Saturday night. You said the pumpkin was stolen on Sunday night.”
The crowd sensed something building, a revelation approaching. The tent was so quiet you could hear the autumn wind rustling the canvas walls.
Brenda was starting to get indignant now, her voice rising. “What do you mean? Of course it was stolen! Why else would I hire you?”
Mona looked directly at her, and when she spoke, her voice was gentle but inexorable. “There’s one thing that bothered me from the very beginning of this case.”
She paused, letting the words settle.
“When we visited Gertrude yesterday, she was more than happy to show us her prize-winning pumpkin. Do you remember what she told us about it?”
Gertrude nodded eagerly. “I said it was still on the vine because it would continue to grow right up until contest day!”
“Exactly,” Mona said. “Still on the vine, still growing. Which is what any serious pumpkin competitor would do—keep that pumpkin growing until the very last possible moment.”
