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information?”
    “No one. Deputy Williams told me to wait in the house and I thought I’d do you guys a favor by keeping the guests in one spot.” I swiped at my forehead, sure I felt perspiration forming. “But the guests don’t know he was murdered. Only the staff does.”
    Detective Caffrey pressed his lips together, his only sign of annoyance. “How many are on staff here?”
    “The maid, the manager, the yoga instructor, and the cook. And me, of course.”
    “I’ll talk to the maid first,” Detective Caffrey said.
    “Let’s see if she’s in the kitchen.”
    I stepped into the hall ahead of the detective and nearly bumped into Heather, her face flushed and glistening with sweat. Had she been listening at the door?
    “Detective Caffrey wants to talk to you.”
    “Me?” Her entire body visibly trembled as she fingered the bump in her jeans pocket.
    The detective gestured toward the office. “I’ll need to ask you a few questions.” He followed Heather into the room and shut the door, leaving me standing in the hall.
    Had Detective Caffrey noticed Heather shaking? What would she tell him about her absence?
    In the kitchen, Esther and Gordon sat across the table from each other. Esther clutched her teacup and stared into the porcelain bottom as if to read the leaves and find out what the future now held for the farm.
    “Once the guests realize Maxwell was murdered, they’ll demand an immediate refund,” Gordon said, accenting the word refund with a sweep of his arm.
    Esther shook her head slowly, whether in denial or defiance, I wasn’t sure. “Not everybody will go. Some of these people traveled cross-country for their stay. That’d be a mess of trouble to change all their plans and book new flights.”
    “You make it sound like murder is a mere inconvenience,” Gordon said. “We’re not talking about a power failure or too much rain in the forecast. A man was killed. And the assailant is at large. People will run.”
    I sat down next to Esther. “Let’s think positive. If the cops catch Maxwell’s killer right away, people won’t have a reason to leave.”
    Gordon snorted. “These cops are lucky if they see one murder a year. They won’t solve it.” With that, Gordon stood and walked out the back door. Amazing how he always disappeared when confronted with a dilemma.
    But Gordon was the least of my worries. If they didn’t catch the killer, no one would stay here. And no new guests meant no job for me. Which meant no paycheck. It felt like the air was being squeezed out of my lungs and I sucked in a mouthful. I didn’t know how much longer my contract would be extended here at the farm, but I needed every day I could get. I’d depleted my savings before moving back home and couldn’t afford to lose this job, not when Mom needed my help.
    Esther sniffed. “This spa is my dream. I promised Arnold before he died that I would never sell the farm, but without any guests, I can’t afford the upkeep. We have to keep this place open.”
    I studied the wrinkles in Esther’s face, the gray in her hair, and wondered if she’d aged after her husband had become ill, as Mom had after Dad’s passing. Esther shouldn’t have to face more troubles when her husband’s death was so recent.
    I slapped my palm on the table. “Don’t give up so fast. Have a little faith in the cops. And if I spot anything out of the ordinary while I’m working here at the farm, I’ll tell Detective Caffrey. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the help.” Or else tell me to butt out.
    “That’s sweet, Dana,” Esther said. “But what can you do?”
    Good question. But I owed it to Mom to help her friend. “You never know. Maybe I’ll uncover some important detail for the police.” I at least had to try.
    The back door banged open and I wondered if Gordon had returned with more tales of doom. Instead, the reporter from the Herald stood in the doorway. Crisply ironed creases ran down the front of his Levi’s,