Give Em Pumpkin To Talk About (Pumpkin Patch Mysteries Book 1) Read Free Page A

grandparents,” Hunter suggested. “Peggy and Steve are good at solving mysteries.”
    “I’m sure Steve doesn’t want to talk shop while he’s on vacation,” Sarah uncomfortably demurred.
    “Don’t worry about it. I could use some shop talk after talking about sea turtles and mermaids all week.” Steve smiled at her. “Tell me about your grandparents.”
    “It’s a real thriller.” Hunter nudged an elbow into Sarah’s side. “She should option the movie rights to it.”
    The words came slowly at first then they poured out with all the emotion she’d felt at the time. When she was finished, she felt drained, but it was good to have said it out loud.
    “You were very young at the time,” Steve said when she’d finished. “Why this sudden interest?”
    “I don’t know. I can’t explain why it hit me so hard today. I was just supposed to come down and sign some papers to sell the place. But I never got to ask questions about it. I’d like to know. Maybe it’s time.”
    “I can understand that,” he agreed. “I can’t do anything formally, but I’ll be happy to take a look at your information, if you like.”
    They planned a time to meet at the farm the next day so Steve could take a look around.
    Sarah told them stories of spending time with her grandparents at the pumpkin patch. Once she’d started letting her memories out, it was like she couldn’t stop. “I was there when a dozen baby goats were born one spring,” she said. “Later that year, every time I talked to my grandmother, those goats were into everything. They ate all the beans and rampaged through the corn. One even got his head stuck inside a pumpkin.”
    They laughed and enjoyed their dinner. Steve wasn’t as open and charming as Peggy, but Sarah was glad she’d met him anyway. She might never had said everything if he hadn’t encouraged her.
    Had her family stayed away from the subject because they all felt guilty for not finding out what happened? Sarah believed that was part of it for her and her mother. Maybe it was that feeling of paralysis that came with the sheriff and others telling them there was nothing they could do. If officials whose job it was to deal with these things couldn’t help, what chance did they have?
    Dinner lasted much longer than Sarah had anticipated. She and Hunter weren’t back to the hotel until almost ten-thirty. Hunter was planning to leave by seven the next morning. But they sat and talked until one a.m. anyway. It was great catching up with her old friend. Hunter had recently broken up with a Charlotte police officer so they could commiserate with each other’s love lives too.
    The phone in her hotel room ringing woke her the next morning. She glanced at her cell phone, the normal means that her family or friends would have tried to get in touch with her. There were no messages or missed calls.
    “Hello?” She cradled the hotel phone as she tried to pry her eyes open. It was only five a.m.
    “Is this Sarah Tucker?” a husky, male voice asked.
    “Yes. Who’s this?”
    “My name is George Burris. I used to work for the newspaper that served Misty River.”
    “How did you know where to find me, Mr. Burris?”
    “I still have my sources in the community. I’d like to meet with you. I have ten years of information that I’ve gathered about your grandparents’ disappearance. I think you should have it.”
    “All right. Where can I meet you?”
    “It’s not safe for me to meet you out in the open. Can you come to the pumpkin patch now?”
    Not safe? “It’s kind of late . . . early.”
    Sarah had an uneasy feeling about the call. The sheriff had mentioned Burris to her, but he was still a stranger. Yet if he really had more information about her grandparents, how could she say no? She felt like this was it—either she’d find out what had happened to them or she’d go home always wondering.
    “It’s important. I know you had the sheriff make copies of his file about them.