The Clue at Black Creek Farm (Nancy Drew Diaries #9)(5)

“This is just what I’ve been saying,” he hissed, so low that I could barely make out the words. “You’re a lawyer, not a farmer! And now Julie’s paying the price.”

He shook his head and stomped off, leaving Sam looking crestfallen. “There’s nothing wrong with my vegetables,” he muttered after a moment, but Jack was already out the door, helping the paramedics load Julie into the ambulance.

A murmur went through the crowd, and Holly approached Sam and Abby. I watched the three of them huddle together and whisper for a moment before Abby split off and yelled, “Attention, please!”

All eyes turned to Abby, who was shaking her head and looking disbelievingly toward the kitchen. “I’m so sorry,” she said quietly, and when Holly made a speak up! gesture, raised her voice enough to be heard over the crowd. “We’re so sorry! There seems to be some sort of misunderstanding, a concern about the safety of the food tonight. Our daughter-in-law, Julie, got quite ill after eating an early dinner.”

The noise from the crowd intensified as people expressed their surprise. I could hear snatches of conversation all around me:

“. . . produce made her sick?”

“Poor girl was pregnant . . .”

“. . . What are they up to on that farm?”

Abby seemed to hear the chatter too and shook her head defiantly. “I know our growing practices are safe. I hope we have the opportunity to prove that to you soon! But for now, I’m afraid . . .”

Her voice trailed off. Sam, who’d been in the corner, stepped up behind her.

“The dinner is canceled,” he said in a deep, matter-of-fact voice.

A blip of nervous laughter went through the crowd, followed by the dull roar of surprised conversation. I looked around at the other audience members, who were shaking their heads and walking back to their tables to collect their things.

“Guess we won’t be joining this CSA!” I heard one middle-aged blond woman say to the man I assumed was her husband.

Nervously, I looked back at Sam. From his disappointed face, I knew he had heard the woman too.

It wasn’t long before the community center had nearly emptied out. Soon my friends and I were standing alone with Sam, Abby, Holly, and Lori.

Sam was staring at the floor. Abby took his hand and squeezed it, and he looked up at her and gave a deep sigh. Then he turned to Holly and Lori.

“Holly, Lori,” he said, “how did this happen?”

Holly shook her head. “It beats me,” she replied, looking truly mystified. “Lori and I handled all the food prep ourselves. I personally made sure that everything was properly washed and cooked.”

Lori nodded, pushing her long, dark hair behind her ears. “Everything was scrubbed and cooked, or just scrubbed. I really don’t understand how there could have been anything on those vegetables that could make a person sick—much less salmonella or E. coli.”

“Where do salmonella and E. coli come from?” I spoke up. Sam, Abby, and Holly all turned to face me, surprised, as though they’d forgotten I was there.

“They both come from animals,” Sam replied, shrugging. “Which makes it very strange they were found on my vegetables. We don’t have any animals on the farm except for a coop full of egg-laying chickens, and they’re way over on the other side of the property from the vegetables.”

I frowned. “So how could—”

But Holly spoke at the same time, throwing up her hands. “What do we do now?” she asked, looking at Sam and Abby. “This dinner was our last-ditch attempt to get new CSA members. And now it’s ruined! How can we keep Black Creek Farm going?”

I saw Sam wince at the words “last-ditch.”

“We just do,” he said, “because I’m never giving up on this farm.”

Abby put her hands on his shoulders. “We have to get to the bottom of this,” she said. “There must be some mistake. There’s no way our produce would make someone sick.”

Holly shook her head. “How could this be a mistake? You all saw Julie go down.”

George tapped her lip. “Well, either the salmonella or E. coli was on the vegetables in the kitchen,” she pointed out, “or else someone put it there.”

Holly turned to her former Girl Scout in surprise. “Yeesh, George,” she muttered. “That’s quite the conspiracy theory you’ve got there. And who put the E. coli on the veggies? Colonel Mustard with the infected cow bile?”

George smiled. “Maybe I am being overly suspicious,” she said, “but only because I happen to hang out with the World’s Best Teenage Detective!” As I tried to blend in with the carpeting, my friend turned and pointed an indigo-painted fingernail in my direction. “Nancy, can’t you help them out?”

I looked up into the circle of bewildered faces and cleared my throat. “Um, George may be overstating things. . . .”

But Bess was shaking her head wildly. “She’s not at all,” she insisted. “Nancy is amazing at catching crooks. It’s like it’s in her blood.”

Abby glanced at Sam, tilting her head to the side in a questioning way.

Sam laughed. “Well, the World’s Best Teenage Detective is someone I want on my side,” he said. “Nancy, might you have the time to help us?”