Olivia braced herself to go in.
The Krewe agents already had the largest table at the café, the one at the far end, away from the door. As Olivia and Dustin walked through to join them, Delilah was serving a coffee refill to a lone tourist. She returned the pot to the burner and came toward them and, as Olivia had feared, she threw both arms around her in a huge hug. The last thing Olivia felt she could cope with right now was pity.
“Oh, honey, I am so sorry. I can’t imagine how hard this is for you—all of you. But Sandra, well, she’s a tough bird, and Mariah and Mason just aren’t as invested... Oh, and poor Drew and Sydney! What will they do? They’ve both given their lives to that place!” Delilah said. “Anyway, I’m so sorry about Aaron! Now,” she added briskly, “what can I get you, love?”
“Iced tea would be great, Delilah.”
“Same for me,” Dustin said.
“Well, this table is just one big group of tea drinkers!” Delilah chuckled. “I have chicken potpie tonight, and if I do say so myself, it’s the best!”
“Chicken potpie?” Malachi asked, looking around the table to nods of assent. “We’ll make it easy, Delilah. We’ll all have potpie.”
“Why, that is easy!” Beaming, Delilah bustled off to fill their order.
“I see you’ve gotten to know her,” Olivia said to the others.
Jane smiled. “It’s impossible not to get to know Delilah.”
“What did you learn?” Malachi asked.
“Aaron bought the drawing of the general,” Dustin said, getting right to the point.
“You’re sure?”
“I know his handwriting—and I know Horse Farm checks,” Olivia said.
“But,” Abby argued, “his buying the art doesn’t mean he put it in the forest during the camping trip. Or even if he did, it might have been a practical joke.”
“We don’t play practical jokes,” Olivia said. “Not when we’re dealing with kids who are struggling with addiction or other issues.”
“He might have intended it for some other purpose,” Malachi said. “Maybe he bought the artwork and then someone else discovered it—and took it.”
“And used his horse?” Olivia asked grimly. “I suppose that if anyone had a motive to kill Marcus, it would’ve been Aaron. And, of course, if anyone had a motive to kill Aaron...people would think it’s me.”
“Except,” Dustin pointed out, “by the time it got to you, so much damage would be done to the Horse Farm’s reputation that you really wouldn’t have a motive to kill him—certainly not this quickly.”
“Shh,” Malachi warned.
Delilah came sweeping down on them with a massive tray. Chicken potpies were served with a large plate of biscuits. Delilah fluttered around the table, making sure they had butter, jam and honey for the biscuits, silverware and iced tea refills. When she was finished, she said, “Olivia, honey, have you heard from that lawyer fellow yet?”
Olivia shook her head, feeling a little guilty. “No, I haven’t. I do need to call him.”
“Well, I just wanted to let you know. One of my regulars—another attorney fellow who runs back and forth between Nashville and Memphis—was asking me about it. I just wanted you to know that if it comes to selling, which of course I hope it won’t, he’ll buy the place. He’ll meet the price Marcus always wanted so the money could go to his charities. If you have to sell, you let me know.”
Olivia forced a smile. “Thanks, Delilah.”
“Who is this attorney, Delilah?” Dustin asked.
“Name is Henry Whittaker. His main office is in Nashville. I’m sure you can find him easy enough. If not, I’ve got his card somewhere.”
She beamed at them again and swept off.
“We’ve been thinking about this all wrong,” Dustin said.
Olivia gave him a puzzled look. “How do you mean?”
“Well, we suspected Aaron might have killed Marcus—because he’d get to be in charge of the Horse Farm. But Aaron’s out of the picture. I don’t think someone wants to kill everyone in order to run the Horse Farm. I think someone wants it to fail.”
“But why?” Olivia asked.
“That’s what we have to figure out. Sloan, anything on the women today?”
“Sandra Cheever never left her house. I followed Mariah to the Horse Farm and she saw both Sydney and Drew, hugged them a lot, cried a little—and then I followed her back to her place. She didn’t leave again. There’s still a deputy watching over Sandra.” He glanced at Olivia. “I called the office in Virginia and had a trace put on your boy Mason’s credit cards. He’s been in Nashville. Last uses were at the Country Music Hall of Fame and then a restaurant on Music Row.”
“We can’t solve anything tonight. I say we eat our potpies and get a good night’s sleep,” Malachi told them.