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“Lily Cummings. What are you up to now?” Jenna muttered as she drove away from the bar.
Jake grumbled, “Why am I not surprised that her name came up?”
“Because she’s always trouble,” Jenna responded. “Lily and her Green Gaia Guardians buddies. Remember the pig debacle?”
“Hard to forget,” Jake replied. “A dozen pigs ‘liberated’ so they could run wild through downtown Trentville. It was an absolute mess.”
“Traffic at a standstill, people chasing pigs down alleys...” Jenna shook her head. The memory was vivid, even after a year and a half. She could still hear the squeals and shouts, see the bewildered expressions of the townsfolk as they navigated their unexpected porcine predicament.
“And the courthouse stunt,” Jake added, leaning back in his seat, his tone tinged with reluctant admiration for the perpetrators’ audacity. “Chained themselves right to the doors. Had to be cut free by the fire department.”
“Caused quite a stir,” Jenna acknowledged. It had been a bold move, one that had disrupted court proceedings for an entire day.
“And when they superglued the locks at the mink fur factory over in Brinton?” Jake recalled. “It took hours before anyone could get in. And the press had a field day.”
“Mayor Simmons was livid when they dyed the river green to protest water pollution from the farms,” Jenna added, the corners of her lips twitching into a fleeting smile despite herself. “Took weeks for the color to fade completely.”
“Media circus every time,” Jake agreed, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. “The Guardians have always been about shock value, but never outright violence.”
“Exactly. Vandalism and public nuisance, sure. But murder? That’s a big leap from their usual antics.”
“Unless we’re dealing with a whole new breed of activism.”
“Or someone else is using the Guardians’ reputation to cover their own tracks,” Jenna countered, pulling into the parking lot at Harvest Haven restaurant, then killing the engine.
She looked at the building that was the center of activity for the Green Gaia Guardians. The wooden facade, adorned with hanging plants and colorful banners promoting peace and sustainability, seemed more like a tranquil sanctuary than a potential crime scene. Could this quaint, eco-friendly exterior disguise possible danger?
Jenna and Jake stepped out of the cruiser into the heat of the afternoon sun. When they pushed open the door to Harvest Haven, Jenna’s senses were immediately enveloped by the earthy aroma of incense, subtly warring with the scent of roasting vegetables.
Lily Cummings herself rose from a table to greet them, her tie-dyed blouse swirling around her like the myriad of causes she championed. Her graying hair, pulled into a bun, was an untamed corona.
“Sheriff Graves, Deputy Hawkins, I’ve been expecting you. Please, come upstairs to my office.”
Jenna exchanged a brief glance with Jake before stepping forward to follow Lily. Jenna knew she and Jake were wondering the same thing—why was Lily expecting them? As they passed through the restaurant, she took note of the diners who turned to watch their procession, their wary gazes lingering just a beat too long, betraying a collective unease.
Lily led them past tables of reclaimed wood, under low-hanging lights wrapped in ivy. The atmosphere spoke of a harmony with nature, yet Jenna couldn’t shake off the sensation that this place could also be staging ground for something more confrontational.
They climbed a narrow staircase to the second floor, where Lily’s office awaited. The door creaked open to reveal a space that felt like a visual echo of the woman herself—passionate and chaotic. Walls plastered with protest posters screamed in silent indignation, while pamphlets piled like miniature towers of Babel seemed on the verge of toppling over from the weight of their messages. A large cork board served as the centerpiece, its surface a tapestry of newspaper clippings and photographs, each connected with red string to others in a web of activism and conspiracy.
The air in the cramped office was heavy, redolent with incense and the musty tang of old paper. Books and pamphlets lay scattered like relics of protests past, each one testament to Lily Cummings’ dedication—or obsession.
Jenna stood there, absorbing the room, the creases of worry on her forehead deepening. The strings on the board were not unlike the threads of her own investigations, the never-ending connections drawn in her mind, some leading to answers, others to dead ends.
“I assume you’re here to offer me protection,” Lily said as she eased into the chair behind her desk, which was as cluttered as the rest of her office. “But you needn’t bother. I respectfully decline the offer.”
“Protection? Why would you think that?” Jenna asked in surprise.
“Isn’t it obvious? Clyde Simmons is dead, and I might well be next.” Lily’s eyes pierced into Jenna’s, a clear fire burning within them.
Jenna sensed more than a hint of paranoia in Lily’s words. But she’d long since grown used to that quirk in Lily’s character.
Jake cleared his throat, the sound cutting through Jenna’s contemplation. “Actually, Ms. Cummings, we’re here because we’ve heard rumors that you’ve been threatening Clyde recently. Saying he should ‘watch his back.’”
Lily’s reaction was immediate and dismissive. “That wasn’t a threat, it was a statement of fact. One that’s been proven true, sadly.”
The room felt smaller as Jenna’s focus sharpened. “Where were you last night, Lily?”
Lily’s posture straightened, a line of defense against the implication of guilt. Her hands, which had been relaxed moments ago, now gripped the edge of the desk with a quiet determination. She met Jenna’s steady gaze, her own eyes unflinching, the mark of someone who believed in their truth, no matter how it might be perceived by others. Jenna watched as indignation swept over Lily’s features.
“Are you treating me like a suspect?” Lily’s voice was sharp. “I was right here, holding a Green Gaia Guardians meeting until late. Any of our members can confirm it.”
She turned to her computer, and a rhythmic clicking was followed by a soft whir of the printer as it churned out the attendance roster. Lily gave the list to Jake who scanned the names, his expression unreadable. Jenna knew that alibis could be fabricated, that loyalty among those with shared passions often ran deep.
“Can anyone vouch for your whereabouts after the meeting?” Jenna asked.
Lily seemed prepared for the question, a testament to her experience with law enforcement scrutiny. “I was at home, alone,” she replied with a trace of indignation. “But make no mistake, Sheriff Graves, my alibi is solid. You won’t find anything linking me to Clyde’s death.”
“Tell us about your relationship with Clyde,” Jenna pressed on, aware that unexpected angles often revealed the most in an investigation.
Lily’s response caught Jenna off-guard. “Clyde and I were allies, of a sort.” There was a hint of something like respect in her tone. “True, he was no animal rights advocate, but we both stood against the local cattle farmers and ranchers. He would come here sometimes, and he and I would exchange information.”
“Exchange what kind of information?” Jenna’s question was direct. Could their ‘alliance’ have soured into a lethal contention? Or was this connection a ruse, a misdirection from a woman with everything to lose?
Lily paused, her eyes flicking to the cluttered corkboard behind her before returning to meet Jenna’s gaze squarely. “About the environmental violations, the unethical practices... things that would interest both of us. We wanted change, Jenna. Real change.”
Jenna pondered this new piece of the puzzle. It was plausible—common enemies had made stranger bedfellows. But allies today could be adversaries tomorrow, and Clyde’s death complicated the narrative.
“Did anyone else know about these meetings between the two of you?” Jenna inquired.
“Only those who needed to,” Lily responded cryptically, folding her arms across her chest as if bracing against a chill only she felt.
Jenna leaned forward, placing her hands on the cluttered surface of Lily’s desk. Her gaze was fixed, intense, as if trying to peer into the very heart of Lily Cummings’s authenticity. “Tell me about your latest communication,” she said.
Lily lowered her voice, as though the walls themselves might be eavesdropping. “Clyde called me yesterday,” she confided. “Said he was on the verge of exposing some serious local corruption. He couldn’t talk about it over the phone, but promised to come by today to discuss it in person.”
The small room felt suddenly constricted, the air charged with the electricity of secrets untold and alliances freshly revealed. Lily spread her hands wide, as if to show her own innocence in the matter. “Obviously, that meeting will never happen now.” Her voice carried regret.
Jake’s asked, “Do you have any idea what kind of corruption he was referring to?”
Lily shook her head, her graying hair swaying with the motion. “No, but I’m doing plenty of investigating myself. I’ve got dirt on just about every rancher and cattle farmer in the county. By the time I’m through, this whole industry will be a thing of the past. And, of course, that’s what the work me and my colleagues is all about.”
Jenna digested this statement. If Lily’s claims were true, then the implications for Genesius County were staggering. It also painted a target on Lily’s back – one that could easily align with the fate that had befallen Clyde. Jenna’s lips pressed together in a thin line; the puzzle pieces were beginning to slot together, forming a picture that was as disturbing as it was incomplete.
“And that’s precisely why I assumed you came to offer me protection. Clyde’s fate could easily become my own. But respectfully, sheriff, I don’t want your protection. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but in my line of work, I’ve learned not to trust the police. We Guardians have learned to look out for each other. We keep each other safe.”
Lily’s eyes now bore into Jenna with an intensity that seemed to challenge the world itself.
“Have it your way, Lily,” Jenna said. “We’ll be on our way.”
As they gathered their things, Jake reached into his pocket and unfolded a piece of paper. He laid it flat on Lily’s cluttered desk, the sketch of the mysterious brand catching the light. “One more thing, Lily. Does this symbol mean anything to you?” he asked, his voice steady.
Lily leaned forward, squinting at the tree-like design, her brow furrowed in concentration. “I’ve never seen it before. What is it?” Her fingertips traced the edge of the paper, a gesture of curiosity rather than recognition.
Jenna watched intently, searching for any flicker of deceit or recognition in Lily’s demeanor. Her own intuition buzzed at the edges of her consciousness, urging her to delve deeper, to find the lie in the truth or the truth in the lie. But nothing surfaced; Lily’s reaction seemed genuine, unguarded.
Stepping toward the doorway, Jenna felt a shift in the atmosphere as they prepared to leave the sanctuary of Lily’s office. It was then that Lily’s voice floated after them, halting their exit. “I assume I’ll see you both at tonight’s town meeting? Seven o’clock, right?”
Jenna stifled the sigh that threatened to escape her lips. The town meeting loomed in her mind, a gathering storm cloud on the horizon of an otherwise clear sky. “We’ll be there, Lily. Take care,” she replied.
As she and Jake made their way downstairs, past the early diners who now regarded them with open curiosity, Jenna contemplated the faces they would likely see at the town meeting—could any of those expressions be the mask of a killer?