Page 32 of Pumpkin Patch Peril
“Not based on tire evidence,” Ida confirmed, already moving on to the next set of photos. “Now let’s examine Gertrude Hartwell’s tractor treads.”
She spread out the photos they’d managed to take during their reconnaissance mission at Gertrude’s farm, positioning them carefully next to the crime scene evidence.
“Gertrude’s tires,” Ida began, measuring carefully, “show a width of 19.8 centimeters between major grooves. Still not a match for the 21.7-centimeter crime scene measurement.”
Ruth spotted a dark car turning onto their street and tensed, but it was just a family heading to the grocery store next door.
“Pattern analysis for Gertrude’s tires,” Ida continued, consulting her charts. “Standard farm implement treads, designed for soil traction rather than road use. The crime scene pattern shows characteristics more consistent with mixed-use agricultural equipment.”
“Another elimination?” Mona asked.
“Another elimination,” Ida confirmed, sitting back with obvious disappointment. “Neither Tom nor Gertrude’s tractors match the tire evidence from the crime scene.”
The reality of what this meant began to sink in around the table. Their two prime suspects—the ones with obvious motives and clear means—had been ruled out by scientific evidence.
“So we’re back to Laura Jenkins and Doris Cumberland,” Helen said thoughtfully.
“Neither of whom seemed physically capable of moving a five hundred and twenty pound pumpkin,” Ruth pointed out, still scanning the parking lot.
“Unless they had help,” Mona suggested. “Or equipment we don’t know about.”
Ida was already packing up her tire tread analysis materials, though she kept glancing at her calculations as if hoping the numbers would change. “The mathematics don’t lie. Whatever vehicle was used at Brenda’s farm, it wasn’t Tom’s or Gertrude’s tractor.”
“Ladies,” Helen said quietly, her voice tight with tension. “Don’t look obvious about it, but there’s a dark sedan parked across the street. Same profile as the car that’s been following us.”
They all tried to glance casually toward the window while maintaining a normal conversation. Sure enough, a dark sedan was positioned across the street with a clear view of the café entrance.
“That’s definitely our tail,” Ruth said grimly. “Third sighting today.”
“Should we confront them?” Mona asked, her journalist instincts kicking in. “March over there and demand to know who they are and what they want?”
“Absolutely,” Ruth said, starting to stand up. “I’m tired of being followed around like some kind of criminal.”
But Ida grabbed her arm. “Wait. Let’s observe first. The scientific method applies to surveillance situations too. We should gather data before taking action.”
They spent the next several minutes trying to act natural while stealing glances at the mysterious vehicle. The windows were tinted dark enough that they couldn’t see the driver, but the car remained motionless, clearly watching the café.
“This is ridiculous,” Ruth finally declared, pushing back her chair. “I’m going over there.”
“We’ll come with you,” Helen said, standing up as well.
But as they gathered their courage and prepared to march across the street for a confrontation, the sedan’s engine started. By the time they made it to the café door, the mysterious vehicle was already pulling away, disappearing around the corner with practiced ease.
“Cowards,” Ruth muttered, staring after the departed car.
“Professional cowards,” Ida corrected, consulting her watch. “They maintained surveillance for exactly eleven minutes, then departed when we showed signs of direct engagement. That’s not amateur behavior.”
Back at their table, the mood had shifted from scientific excitement to genuine unease. The tire tread analysis had eliminated their prime suspects, and their mysterious followers were becoming increasingly difficult to dismiss as coincidence.
“So where does this leave us?” Helen asked as they prepared to leave the café.
“With two suspects who don’t seem physically capable of the crime,” Mona summarized.
“And professional surveillance of unknown origin,” Ruth added darkly.
“But also with definitive scientific evidence about what didn’t happen,” Ida said, trying to maintain some optimism. “We canrule out Tom and Gertrude completely. That narrows our focus to Doris Cumberland and Laura Jenkins.”
“Don’t forget, we still haven’t found the pumpkin,” Ruth said.
