I chased after him. “Of course I believe in upholding the law.” I kind of had to; it was sort of in the genes with my dad being the former district attorney.
Although, I was pretty sure my dad knew about Fern’s still. Or maybe I just assumed he knew. “I’m saying that Fern is an upstanding citizen, and a pillar of this community.”
Yes, I was laying it on thick, but this was Fern’s life here. Besides, no one other than the goody two-shoes sheriff cared one lick that Fern had a still. It’s not like she sold the stuff.
He stopped, and I accidentally bumped into him. “Sorry.” I jumped away quickly.
“Go wait at the house.” He walked away and pulled out his phone.
It didn’t look like I was going to make it back to Portland today.
Chapter Four
W hen I got back to the house, Fern still wasn’t home, so I raced up the stairs to brush my teeth and change into real clothes. I even took an extra minute to apply some mascara. It couldn’t hurt, right? As I was rummaging through my suitcase for some socks, I heard Fern’s voice.
“Charlee! Are you here? Is everything okay?”
I grabbed the first pair of socks I could find, which also happened to have owls on them, and rushed down to meet Fern. “I’m coming!”
She met me at the bottom of the stairs. My expression must have been more dire than I intended as she gasped. “That bad?”
I nodded. “Let’s go sit.”
“Should I make some tea?” she asked. If she only knew.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said as calmly as I could. But I’m sure we could both use some. As could the sheriff. He was wound way too tightly.
Fern sunk onto the chair opposite me. “Okay, I’m sitting. So, spill it.”
“Your neighbor Earl is dead in the barn,” I blurted quickly.
Fern’s wide eyes blinked several times, reminding me of an owl. An owl in shock. “My barn?” She looked out the window toward the backyard. “Is that crime scene tape?” she gasped.
“Yes, I’m afraid so. But it gets worse.”
Fern turned back to me.
“It looks like Earl was hit in the back of the head. The police found a shovel with blood on it.” I hesitated. “And I may have told the sheriff about what happened last night.”
“I see.” Fern clasped her hands together on the table. “So, he knows we argued and suspects me.”
“I was adamant that you did not kill Earl,” I declared again.
“Of course I didn’t kill the man. I wanted him to move, not die,” Fern said exasperated.
I’m not sure the sentiment was that much better. She still didn’t like the man. But dislike and murder were two very different things. “So, they’ve got some circumstantial evidence,” Fern acknowledged weakly.
“Yeah, it looks that way. And there’s one other thing,” I took a deep breath. “The sheriff found your still, and he’s pretty upset about it.”
At this, Fern began to chuckle. “Oh, that. Well, I think the sheriff has bigger fish to worry about than my little ol’ still.”
“Yes, one would think, but—”
A knock sounded at the back door. “I’ll get it.” I scooted back my chair, and went to answer it. Through the beveled glass panes I saw Cole, sporting the same scowl as when I’d last seen him.
I opened the door, matching his expression.
“Charlee, is Fern here?”
“Yes,” I stepped aside and allowed him to enter. “This way,” I motioned for him to follow me the short distance to the kitchen.
“Good morning, Mrs. Bailey,” he greeted my aunt with a tight-lipped smile.
“Call me Fern,” my aunt smiled back. “Please have a seat.”
“I’m fine, thank you.”
I moved to stand behind Fern, crossing my arms defensively.
“Fern, I’d like to ask you some questions—”
“Wait!” I held up my hand. “Fern, I think we should call Noah.”
The sheriff glared at me.
Seriously? It was her right to have an attorney present.
Fern looked back at me. “Charlee, I don’t think that will be necessary. Sheriff Walker said he just had some questions.”
“That’s right. Fern, I understand you had an argument with Earl Henderson last night. Would you please tell me what happened?” Cole was direct, but his tone didn’t come off as accusatory. Not yet, anyway.
Fern explained what happened from the time we heard the noise to when we got back to the house after Earl left.
“Do you have any security cameras?”
“No,” Fern shook her head.
“Why isn’t there a lock on the barn door?” he asked, and I wondered why this was relevant.
“It’s Rockfish Bay,” she replied, like that was obvious.
I smiled, despite the frown forming on Cole’s mouth.
“Okay, so you don’t know how Earl ended up dead in your barn?” he asked again, after my aunt had already said as much.
“I have no idea,” Fern confirmed. And it was the truth.
“Well, for now, all of the evidence we have is circumstantial. We’ll know more when the coroner examines the body, and we get results from the crime scene back from the lab. We still need to interview the other neighbors, but it’s unlikely there were any witnesses, since your property borders the woods.”
“The alpacas,” I said without thinking.
At the mention of my aunt’s fluffy pets, Cole’s brows pinched together.
“You said there probably weren’t any witnesses, but the alpacas were there.”
“Yes, and one always stays awake to guard the herd, so there probably was a witness.” Fern turned in her chair and winked at me.
“An alpaca witness,” I grinned back, but it vanished when I saw the fire in Cole’s eyes. Which was really too bad. He had very nice eyes.
“This means,” Cole raised his voice, “that we will not be pressing charges until we know more. But there is the matter of the still. Mrs. Bailey, are you aware that it is a federal offense to distill alcohol without a permit?”
“Fern, don’t answer that,” I said sharply.
“And I take it you don’t have a permit?”
“No, I do not,” Fern stated bluntly.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Bailey, but legally I’m required to arrest you
