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Kevin gripped her arm tighter. “Yes, you did. Jo heard you, and so did I.”
“That was Mitzi talking!” Hazel pointed to the bunny with the flower hat.
Sam wondered if she was laying the groundwork for an insanity defense. “You can tell us more about Mitzi down at the station.”
“Just don’t blame Ricky. He’s a good boy. Tell him I’ll be home soon,” Hazel said as she shuffled alongside Kevin.
As they walked out, Sam took Jo’s arm since she was still a bit shaky. Lucy pressed against her leg, her way of lending support.
“This will be the second person I’ve booked today,” Sam said.
Jo looked at him in surprise. “Second?”
“Yeah,” Sam replied. “I solved the April Summers case while you were out here drinking tea. I’ll tell you all about it after you get checked out at the hospital. We need to make sure Hazel didn’t give you anything too damaging.”
CHAPTERFORTY-THREE
Three days later…
* * *
The warm glowof the firepit flickered across the faces of those gathered in Jo’s backyard, casting a soft light on the close-knit group. It was a serene fall evening, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of burning wood and fresh pie.
The fire crackled and popped as Sam tossed another log onto the flames, sending a flurry of sparks dancing into the night sky.
Mick, relaxed and contemplative, sat on a tree stump, his legs crossed at the ankles. In one hand, he held a cup of something dark and strong, his other hand balancing a paper plate.
Jo, comfortably nestled in her camping chair, cradled a mug as the steam wafted up, mingling with the crisp night air. She took a careful sip, savoring the warmth and sweetness of the pumpkin chai.
Kevin, perched casually atop the cooler, had become Lucy’s new best friend for the evening. The German shepherd sat obediently beside him, her eyes following every bite of pie that moved from the plate to Kevin’s mouth. Occasionally, some pie made it to her own mouth.
Holden, meanwhile, lounged in a lawn chair, his posture relaxed but his eyes keenly observing the group. His drink, a modest glass of amber liquid, rested on the grass beside him within easy reach.
Bridget had laid out an array of homemade pies, a taste test of sorts before she baked one for Jo to bring to their landlord. She watched, amused, as her companions debated which pie might win over the old man’s heart.
“So, which one are we thinking for Garvin?” Jo asked, her voice warm and light. She took a bite of the apple pie, the cinnamon and apple flavors bursting on her tongue.
“I bet he’s an apple pie kinda guy,” Mick chimed in, holding up his slice for emphasis. “Classic, reliable, can’t go wrong with it.”
Kevin, delicately balancing a piece of cherry pie on his fork, disagreed. “I don’t know. This cherry pie is something else. It’s got that perfect balance of tart and sweet. Might be a nice surprise for him.”
Holden, thoughtfully sampling the pumpkin pie, weighed in. “There’s something to be said for the subtlety of this pumpkin pie, though. It’s not overly sweet, just right for a fall evening.”
Bridget laughed, delighted at their debate. “I’m glad you all like them. I was thinking the pecan pie might be his favorite. It’s rich and a bit different.”
Lucy, sitting loyally beside Kevin, looked up expectantly as he fed her another small piece of pie crust. She seemed to agree with whatever choice would result in more treats for her.
Sam, who had been quietly enjoying each sample, finally spoke up. “Well, I think Garvin will be happy with any of them. But, if we’re placing bets, my money’s on the apple pie. It’s a safe bet for winning someone over.”
Suddenly, Lucy, ever alert, pricked up her ears and turned her gaze toward the edge of the woods. Everyone followed her gaze to see Pickles, the little orange cat, hesitantly peeking out from the shadows.
“Aww, he looks scared,” Bridget observed softly, noting the cat’s apprehension amidst the unfamiliar crowd.
Jo smiled, watching the feline with a mix of concern and affection. “Not used to all the people here, I guess.”
For a moment, Pickles seemed to weigh his options, cautiously taking a step forward toward the warmth and light of the fire. The group stilled, silently encouraging the cat to join them. However, as Lucy shifted slightly, sitting up with interest, Pickles seemed to make up his mind.
With one swift movement, the cat turned and disappeared back into the safety of the woods. Jo sighed, a hint of disappointment in her voice. “Hopefully, he’ll come back later.”
