The man swallowed and shook his head like a dog with a face full of snow. “I’m sorry. I, uh, I’m sorry. I saw the gun at your waist, Agent Snow. FBI? On my doorstep?”
It was an extreme reaction to seeing a Fed, but the man did grow pot. Perhaps he’d done so illegally in the past and hadn’t gotten rid of his fear.
A woman slipped up to his side and smiled. “Hi. What’s going on?”
The guy stepped aside. “I’m being weird.” He smiled. “I’m Robert Caine, and this is my wife, Jasmine. Please come inside.” He opened the door wider and gestured them inside, smiling at the dog. “He’s adorable and more than welcome inside.”
Laurel gave Huck a puzzled look but followed them inside a house all but puking Christmas decor. Huge, decorated tree in the corner, villages on antique furniture, and several cross-themed pillows on the sofa and matching chairs. The mantel was alive with pictures of family gatherings in holiday frames, and a low fire crackled merrily in the fireplace. Even the music, coming softly from what looked like the kitchen, crooned holiday songs.
Jasmine gestured them to the sofa. “I might’ve gone a little bit overboard with the decorations this year.”
“Might have?” her husband asked, laughing. “Yeah. Might have.” He tossed his hat onto a peg, walked around a sofa table covered with snow globes, and took one of the chairs.
Huck moved to sit nearest him with Laurel on his other side on the sofa. “Sorry to just drop by like this. I didn’t figure we’d find you at home.”
Aeneas sat by a tall figurine of Santa and tilted his head, one ear cocked, as he studied the red and white ceramic face.
Robert nodded. “I came home for an early supper and was just leaving when I almost ran you over on the porch. Sorry again about that.” His gaze flicked to Laurel’s gun. “You just caught me off guard. We’re legal growers, you know.”
Yeah, Huck had figured the panic was drug related. “We know,” he said.
Jasmine hovered near the sofa. “Can I get anybody coffee or tea? I also have some fresh scones.”
Laurel smiled up at her. “That’s kind of you, but we just ate. Please, have a seat. If you don’t mind answering a few questions, we’ll get out of your hair.”
Jasmine took the other chair. She was short and curvy with long brown hair and brown eyes. Her peaches and cream complexion made her look like the girl next door. She wore jeans and a white sweater, and her socks had elves on them. “What kind of questions?”
Laurel turned more toward her. “We understand you were friends with Lisa Scotford.”
Tears instantly sprang into Jasmine’s eyes. “Did you catch that man Carl who killed her?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Laurel’s stomach clenched. “Carl? What do you know about a suspect named Carl?”
Jasmine clutched her hands together. “Nothing, but Abigail called and left a message yesterday about the situation. She told us all about Carl and that he’s the prime suspect, and to be careful and stay away from him, just in case. I mean, the man digs graves for a living.”
Laurel sat back. Abigail had surely known that the Caines would be interviewed. “Do you have any independent knowledge, besides what Abigail told you, that a man named Carl had anything to do with Lisa’s death?”
Jasmine shook her head. “No. Is it not him?” She turned tearful eyes to her husband. “What if they never find out who hurt her?”
“They will,” Robert said. “Don’t worry, honey.”
Huck cleared his throat. “Were you and Lisa close?”
Jasmine’s lips trembled, and a tear fell onto her smooth cheek. “We were good friends. I volunteer at the church quite a bit, and she works, I meanworked, there. We organized many of the events together. I’m only a few years older than Lisa, but she was so mature, I felt like we were as close as sisters.” She wiped her eyes.
Robert rubbed his chin. “Do you have any idea who killed her?” he asked Huck. “Who would do something like that?” He frowned, his brows dark slashes on his handsome face.
“We’re working on it,” Huck said. “For now, do you know who Lisa was dating?”
Robert’s eyebrows lifted. “Dating? I don’t think she was dating anybody.”
Jasmine’s cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink.
Robert looked at her. “Sweetheart? You’re blushing like that Santa over there.”
She winced. “Lisa did have a boyfriend, but it was a secret. I promised not to tell anybody.”
