Page 4 of Hell Hath No Fury
What had once been a farmyard looked like a hayfield overdue for harvest. The grass and weeds that had been knee high during her visit two months earlier were now nearly chest-high and gone to seed. Unlikely or not, Emma hoped to find Eric’s car here along with him and Nell wandering the fields.
“Where should I park?” Matthias asked.
“Keep going. The barn is still standing.” At least, it had been in June.
He continued to the crest of the hill and came to a stop. The old, weathered barn was indeed still there, and a small car—not Eric’s—was parked halfway between them and the venerable structure.
“Who’s that?” Matthias asked warily. “The developer who wants to buy the farm?”
“I don’t think so. I imagine Sonny Jones drives something more substantial.”
Matthias continued at a crawl toward the car, which bore a bumper sticker statingTreasure Hunter. He stopped a few feet behind the car and shifted into park. “Stay here.”
“No problem. Just be careful. It’s not hunting season, but that may not stop everyone.”
He grunted a response and stepped out of the Jeep.
As Matthias approached the car, Emma twisted in her seat, scanning the surrounding fields. She spotted a figure wearing rain gear about a hundred yards away, on what had been a path between the farmhouse and the barn. From the slow, side-to-side sweeping motion, she realized the person was using a metal detector. Emma climbed out, her jeans immediately dampened by the wet grass. She waved to catch Matthias’s attention and pointed.
At the same moment, the treasure hunter spotted them, raised a hand, and called out, “Hello!” The voice was definitely feminine.
Emma joined Matthias next to the car. The woman retrieved a second item from the ground and hiked up the hill, battling her way through the tall grass and weeds.
“Hello,” she said again as she grew closer, then pulled up short. “Emma?”
It took a moment for recognition to set in. “Fran?”
The woman let out a whoop, dropped her metal detector—and the second gadget, which Emma could now see was a weed whacker—and closed the distance between them, throwing her arms around Emma, soaking her shirt. “It’s been ages. What, ten years? Twelve?”
“About that.” Emma disengaged from the woman’s embrace and turned to Matthias. “This is an old friend from school. Frances Goodwin, meet Matthias Honeywell.”
“Fran, please.” She thrust out a hand to him. “Do I call you Matt?”
He clasped the hand. “Matthias.”
Emma bit her lip. At least he hadn’t told her “Detective Honeywell”.
“Matthias it is.” Fran swung toward Emma and noticed her sodden shirt front. “I’m so sorry. I forgot I’m all wet.”
“It’s okay.” Heat and humidity were on the rise, and the damp clothes felt good against her skin. “Are you still working at the urgent care center?”
“Nope. I got a job in the ER at Washington Hospital about five years ago. Been there ever since.” Fran planted her hands on her hips. “I heard you’d moved to Erie and were selling this place.”
“I am living in Erie, for now.” The moment the last two words slipped out, Emma noticed Matthias tense. “As for selling the farm? I haven’t made a decision yet.”
“Oh? Sonny talked like it was a done deal.”
Not a done deal. “You’ve spoken to Sonny?”
“Yeah. And Eric. I was under the impression that it was just a matter of ironing out a few details.”
“Have you seen Eric recently?”
“A couple of days ago, yeah.” Fran returned to pick up her metal detector and weed whacker. “He’s the one who gave me the okay to come out here. See what kind of old coins I might find.”
Over the years, others had used similar gizmos in search of anything of value. She told Fran what she’d always told them. “My grandfather was so tight with his money, he squeezed a silver dollar until the eagle screamed.”
Beside her, Matthias snickered.
