Sour Apples (32 page)

“What?” Bree looked shocked. “Who else?”

“Joyce’s husband Ethan was found hanging in his barn this morning. It looked like a suicide, but the police were not convinced—the timing was pretty convenient. They’re investigating.”

After her initial reaction, Bree burst out, “You think the same people killed him to keep him quiet? Damn, Meg, this is serious. Why isn’t that thick-headed detective doing something about all this?”

“Because he doesn’t have all the information that we do yet—that’s why we’re going to tell him as soon as we can. Look, we just put it together ourselves. But you know how Marcus feels about Seth and me—he may not want to listen, or he may not believe us. And I’m worried about Lauren.”

“Lady, stop worrying about your buddy Lauren—she’s a big girl and she can handle it. Worry about yourself—and me! Now that you’ve told me, I know too much, and they’d have to take me out, too!”

Meg looked hard at Bree, wondering if she was seriously troubled or exaggerating—and couldn’t decide which it was. “Listen, Bree, we don’t really
know
anything—we’re making guesses, and what pieces we have sort of fit together, but that’s a long step from accusing anyone of murder. We’ll turn all this over to Marcus and let him run with it. Seth, you agree?”

“I do. Although I’d bring Art in, too, since the deaths occurred in his town. And that way we’re spreading the risk around, if there is any. I’m not convinced, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“Can we wait until morning to talk to Art?” Meg asked. “Because I’m exhausted, and I can’t think straight.”

“I think it can wait,” Seth said, “as long as you’ll let me stay here and keep an eye on things.”

“I can handle that. Bree, dinner?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bree grumbled, and opened the refrigerator door. “Hey, Seth, you owe me. I walked your dog—twice.”

The next morning Meg woke with the sun. She lay still against Seth’s reassuring warmth, going over what had happened the day before and what might happen today. Poor Ethan. He’d followed Joyce into a business he didn’t like, out of love for her, and in the end he had died for it. Of course, no one could have foreseen that. Had he been killed merely because he had seen the conflicting soil reports? Or because of something else?

She realized that she hadn’t considered whether Marvin might be in danger. He was probably a weak link in this whole cover-up, although he had kept quiet for more than a decade. Would he be smart enough to take precautions? Would the killer risk another death? He would have to balance the plusses of silencing one of the key figures in the whole mess against a
third
suspicious death that could be linked to two others. But how many people knew of the connection? At the moment that list included her, Seth, and Bree. And Art, as soon as Seth had a chance to fill him in. And Marvin, of course, and maybe Christopher. Was there safety in numbers? Surely someone would notice if any more people died in a brief period.

What did Lauren know? Was Lauren so desperate for a job that she’d do anything to hang on to it, even one as uncertain as a political campaign manager? Meg had tried to warn her, but what if Lauren was deliberately turning a blind eye to what was going on?

Seth rolled over and without opening his eyes said, “I can hear you thinking.”

“I’m sorry—did the grinding of the gears in my head wake you up?”

“No, not really. I’m probably on the same page. Lauren will be here at ten?”

“So she said.”

“So we should plan to talk to Art after that, and then Marcus.”

“I guess. Does what we cobbled together still sound believable by the light of day?”

“Maybe. Ask me after a cup of coffee.”

Once downstairs, Meg fed Lolly and Max, and Seth took Max out for a walk. Bree announced she was going to see Michael in Amherst, since there were no pressing tasks in the orchard, and she wasn’t sure when she’d be back. Meg wondered if Bree was trying to remove herself from harm’s way. No one would track her to Michael’s place, would they?
Meg, you’re being ridiculous!
She was looking at this as a huge conspiracy; in fact, it was probably no more than a few ordinary people like Marvin who had made understandable mistakes under difficult circumstances. The problem was, Marvin had compounded those mistakes by trying to hide them now.

But two people were dead.

She fidgeted for an hour, straightening things, then straightening them again, until Seth finally lost patience. “I’m going out to my office to finish sorting out my files,” he announced. “I’ll try calling Marcus again from there, and you and Lauren can talk alone. Let me know when she’s gone.”

“You sure whoever is behind this won’t come after you?” Meg said anxiously. “After all, you’re the next stumbling block.”

“I’ll watch my back. And if this person is thinking straight at all, he’s got to know the story is too big to kill now. Too many people know too much.”

“All right, I guess. But be careful.” Meg wasn’t sure she
wanted to tackle Lauren alone, but she had to admit Lauren might be more forthcoming if she didn’t feel like she was being ganged up on. Maybe.

It was closer to ten thirty when Lauren finally arrived. She climbed out of her car and stalked to the back door. Lauren’s defensive attitude immediately annoyed Meg.

“Lauren, please come in and sit down.” She was going to say her piece and Lauren had to listen, whether she liked it or not.

Lauren gave her a long look and reluctantly took a seat. “So, talk. I am
not
going to sit here and listen to you tell me that Rick Sainsbury is a murderer,” she said, although she sounded slightly less sure than she had at the coffee shop.

“Look, Lauren, we’ve got new evidence that links Rick’s company directly to the polluted site and a botched cleanup, and we’re giving it to the state police today. Maybe Rick didn’t play a hands-on role, but I find it hard to believe he had no idea what was going on. Plus he’s good at inspiring loyalty, if you’re any indication. Maybe someone else decided to help Rick out and make the problem go away before it got worse. Maybe his father-in-law, maybe one of his old pals. I’m sure you recognize that something like this could destroy his precious campaign before it even gets started, if it gets out.”

“What, is that some kind of threat?”

Could Lauren possibly be that stubbornly deluded? “Lauren, I don’t stand to gain a damned thing by attacking Rick Sainsbury. But if someone has killed two people just to promote Rick’s political career, I have to do something.”

Lauren stared at her, then said slowly, “You seriously think someone is killing people just so Rick can run for Congress?”

“I can’t prove it all yet,” Meg shot back, “but if it’s even a small possibility, I’m not going to sit by and do nothing.”

“Of course you wouldn’t.” She sighed. “But, Meg, I will not believe that Rick is a killer.”

Meg was startled by the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. She stood and went to the window to see who it was, then turned back to Lauren. “What’s one of your campaign guys doing here?”

“What are you talking about?” Lauren stood up and joined Meg at the window. “Oh, it’s Tom Ferriter. You remember—he was with me yesterday morning when I stopped by. I have no idea why he’s here now.”

“Was he listening when I called you last night?” Meg asked.

“Possibly. He’s usually hanging around, eavesdropping.” Lauren didn’t look at Meg.

Meg turned quickly to face her. “Lauren, why were you being evasive when you talked to me yesterday? You didn’t want anyone there to know you were seeing me?”

“Well, no, nothing like that…” Lauren fumbled.

“Don’t you have just a few doubts about these deaths and the people you’re working with? You can’t write all of this off to coincidence! Too much is happening. If you really want to clear Rick, we have to get to the bottom of this. So, again, what is Tom doing here?”

“I honestly don’t know! But it looks like we’re going to
find out,” Lauren said as Tom strode toward the back door. “Let me talk to him.”

Lauren opened the door. “Tom, is there a problem? I thought you were setting up for Rick in Holyoke.”

Tom stepped inside without invitation and quickly scanned the room. “There’s no problem. Or maybe I oughta say, you’re the problem. What’re you doing here talking with this troublemaker? Rick’s not gonna be happy about that.”

“Tom, Meg’s an old friend,” Lauren replied tartly. “Besides, I don’t work for you, and I certainly don’t have to report to you. It’s the other way around, remember? If Rick has a problem with me, he can tell me himself.”

“What do you want, Tom?” Meg stepped forward and demanded. “I don’t recall inviting you in.”

Tom looked her up and down. “What, I’m not good enough to walk into your house now? Who do you think you are, trying to bring down a good candidate? Makes you feel important? What bull has Chapin been feeding you? He doesn’t want to see a hometown boy make something of himself? He’s not one to talk.”

Meg was not going to let herself be drawn into defending Seth. “Tom, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about the deaths of Joyce and Ethan Truesdell, would you?”

He didn’t answer immediately, a calculating look in his eye. “You mean those farmers on the north side of town? The lady got kicked in the head by a cow. Hubby was so broken up about it that he hung himself. What’s that got to do with anything?”

“The state police don’t believe that’s what happened.”

Meg wasn’t surprised to see Tom’s body tense, but he didn’t lose his swagger. “So?”

“So, those people were grazing cattle on land that Rick’s company was supposed to have cleaned up a decade ago. The cattle got sick, and—funny thing—it turns out the land wasn’t cleaned up properly. It wouldn’t make Rick look very good if that came out, now, would it?”

“It’s a big company,” he protested. “Why would Rick know anything about it?”

“It wasn’t so big when it happened. In fact, it was the first cleanup job the company ever handled, and it was important to get it done on time and under budget, right? Which they did, by cutting corners,” Meg said.

“Prove it.”

“Trust me, Tom. I can,” she said, struggling to keep her voice level.

Tom’s face reddened, but to Meg’s surprise he kept himself under control. “Okay, say it’s true. So what? It happened years ago. Who’s going to care now?”

“A lot of people, starting with the police. It’s a motive for murder. Two murders, in fact.”

“You think you know so much? Well, I know a lot about you. You’ve been stirring up trouble since you showed up in Granford. You’re the one who torpedoed that shopping center deal, which made a lot of people unhappy. That woulda brought jobs and tax income to town. And your boyfriend—his dad was in on the cleanup project, too; maybe he had a hand in it. Or should I say, a hand out? That comes out, his business will be in the tank—say good-bye to the good Chapin name. And once Rick wins the election, a word from him and nobody’s gonna buy your apples. You’ll be out of business in a year or two.”

Lauren interrupted, “Tom, are you threatening her?”

Tom cast her a contemptuous glance. “Hell, no. She says she knows what’s true. Well, I know a couple of true things, too. Granford would be better off without her or her troublemaking boyfriend.”

“Oh, really?” Seth had somehow managed to slip in the back door while no one was looking. “Isn’t that like the pot calling the kettle black?”

“Chapin.” Tom nodded stiffly. “Sneaking around again? And what’s that mean?”

“You’re no angel yourself, Ferriter.”

“So? I’ve gotten into trouble a few times. No convictions. Rick said I had to clean up my act if I was going to work for him, and I’ve been staying out of trouble.”

“Good for Rick. He gave you a job, and jobs are kind of hard to find these days, aren’t they, Tom?”

“What’re you getting at, Chapin?”

“You must be pretty grateful to Rick for taking you on,” Seth said, his voice ominously quiet. “Grateful enough to do just about anything to see him get elected?”

If Seth was trying to push Tom’s buttons, he’d succeeded. With something between a growl and a roar, Tom sprang at Seth where he stood in the doorway. Meg stood frozen for a moment and then got mad. She glanced at Lauren, who looked horrified. No help there. Meg surveyed the kitchen for a useful weapon, just to stop Tom. She was saved from the decision when Art suddenly showed up at the back door. “What seems to be the problem here?” he said. Meg suppressed a hysterical giggle: did cops really say that?

Tom let go of Seth’s neck and somehow managed to rein in his anger. “Just a friendly discussion, Art. Nothing you need to worry about.”

Art’s face remained impassive as he looked at everyone in turn. “That true?”

“Hell, no,” Meg said firmly. “Tom barged in and started threatening people. Then he attacked Seth. That’s assault, isn’t it?”

“Seth, that correct?” Art asked.

“Close enough,” Seth said, keeping an eye on Tom.

Tom glared at Seth, then turned back to Art. “If you arrest me, you’ve got to arrest him, too. He came at me.”

“You started it,” Meg shot back, feeling like a child.