Page 6 of Pumpkin Patch Peril
“Now that’s a motive I can understand,” Ida said, reaching for a pumpkin muffin. “Nobody likes being the eternal runner-up. I once knew a woman who cheated at bingo for three months straight rather than keep coming in second.”
“What happened to her?” Helen asked.
“They caught her marking cards with a special pen. Banned her from the community center for six months.” Ida shook her head sadly. “Never was the same after that. Started playing the lottery instead, convinced herself that was less risky.”
Ruth looked up from her iPad. “According to this, Brenda Mossberry has won the Giant Pumpkin Competition five years running with pumpkins weighing between four hundred and eight hundred pounds. Gertrude comes in second place almost every year.”
“Meaning if Brenda’s out of the competition, Gertrude finally gets her chance to win,” Mona concluded, adding Gertrude’s information to the board.
“Hold on,” Helen said, setting down her delicate teacup with a thoughtful expression. “Shouldn’t we check whether the police know about this theft? I mean, if someone stole a five hundred pound pumpkin, surely Brenda would have filed a report.”
Mona paused with her marker halfway to the board. “Good point. Let’s call Lexy and see if Jack’s heard anything.”
She retrieved her phone from the kitchen counter and tapped Lexy’s contact, putting it on speaker so everyone could hear.
“Hi, Nans,” Lexy’s voice came through clearly, accompanied by the background sounds of the busy bakery. “How did the pastries work out?”
“Great. And we’re working on a little case,” Mona said. “Has Jack mentioned anything about a theft report? Specifically, a very large pumpkin stolen from Mossberry Farm?”
There was a pause, followed by what sounded like Lexy talking to someone else—probably Cassie, her assistant. “Sorry, I was just checking with Cassie to see if anyone’s been talking about it. Nothing here, and I haven’t heard a word from Jack. But he works homicide, Nans. A missing pumpkin wouldn’t cross his desk unless someone got murdered over it.”
Ida perked up. “Well, the day is young.”
“Ida!” Helen scolded.
“What? I’m just saying, people get passionate about competitions. Remember the Great Pie Incident of twenty-nineteen?”
“Nobody died in the Great Pie Incident,” Ruth pointed out.
“No, but Martha Cookwell came close when she found out someone switched her sugar for salt.”
“Ladies,” Mona interrupted before the conversation could spiral into a complete recounting of Brook Ridge Falls’ competitive baking disasters. “Lexy, if you hear anything from Jack, let us know?”
“Of course. And Nans? Be careful. I know you’re probably just helping someone find their missing pumpkin, but...”
“But what?”
“I don’t know. It just seems like such an odd thing to steal. Unless there’s more to this than meets the eye.”
After they’d hung up, the four ladies sat in contemplative silence for a moment, sipping their coffee from the delicate rose-painted teacups and studying the whiteboard.
“No police report,” Ruth mused. “Either Brenda hasn’t filed one, or she filed it somewhere Jack wouldn’t hear about it.”
“Maybe she doesn’t trust the police to take a pumpkin theft seriously,” Helen suggested.
“Or maybe,” Ida said slowly, finally looking up from her bingo charts, “she has her own reasons for keeping this quiet.”
Mona capped her marker and stepped back from the whiteboard. “Only one way to find out. Brenda said we could inspect the barn anytime, and I’d say now is as good a time as any.”
“Road trip!” Ida announced, carefully re-wrapping half a cinnamon roll in a napkin and tucking it into her purse alongside her bingo notebook. “But maybe Ruth should practice parking before we get there.”
“My parking is perfectly adequate,” Ruth said with wounded dignity. “Those flowers were practically asking to be run over, sitting so close to the curb like that.”
“They were planted there, Ruth,” Helen pointed out gently.
“Well, they should have been planted somewhere safer.”
Mona gathered her purse, cutting off the parking debate before it could escalate. “Come on, ladies. Let’s go see what story the crime scene tells us.”
