Sour Apples (19 page)

Meg nodded her agreement. “All right, then let’s take it from another angle. If—and I do mean if—somebody was dumping something that contained lead, who are the likely culprits?”

Seth thought for a moment. “Nobody in town. You know as well as I do that we don’t currently have any industry here that would generate that kind of waste.”

“Didn’t you say something about car batteries? They contain lead.”

“Yes,” he agreed, “but the procedures for disposing of old batteries are pretty clear, and remember, this is Massachusetts and we regulate that kind of stuff. Besides, you can take your old car battery to AAA or an auto repair store, and when we have a town recycling day, we take them and dispose of them correctly. Of course, some people do get lazy and just toss them into a creek, so I guess it’s possible that the cows could have gotten to a battery that way.”

“I don’t think I ever asked—how many cows were affected?”

“Not a lot, but I’d have to check. That reminds me, Joyce gave me a copy of the blood work report, and I think I left it in my office. Be right back.” Seth headed out the back door toward his office at the rear of the property.

Meg looked up to see Bree tiptoeing down the back stairs. “Is the coast clear?”

“For the moment. I thought you were staying in Amherst last night.”

“I came back late.” Bree didn’t volunteer any further explanation.

Meg didn’t press. “Seth went out to his office to look for something. What are you hiding from? This mess”—Meg waved at the stacks of papers on the table—“isn’t your problem.”

Bree came down and dropped into a chair at the table. “That’s good to hear. But what is it and why are you poking around in it?”

“It’s all the documents pertaining to the land leased from the town by Joyce and Ethan Truesdell. We’re trying to figure out what could have made the cows sick. Gail told me a paint factory was once located there, but Seth said the site was cleaned up a decade or so ago, all neat and official.”

Bree made an expression of distaste. “That’s what the paperwork says.”

“What, you don’t believe an official government document?” Meg asked, mildly surprised.

“Ha!” Bree replied. “Grease the right palms and you can get someone to say just about anything you want.”

“How did you get so cynical, so young?” Meg asked.

“Oh, come on, Meg. You used to work in banking. How carefully did anyone look at documents there? How do you think this country’s banking industry got into such a big mess and had to be bailed out? Because nobody was paying close attention. They wanted to sign off on deals and make money, so they rushed things through, and now they’re paying the price.”

“I can’t argue with that, but who benefitted by signing off on this cleanup?”

Bree shrugged. “Beats me. But I’d take a close look at who was involved and where money changed hands.”

Bree had a good point, Meg reflected. Just because a form had a government seal on it didn’t guarantee that it was true or accurate. But why would anybody have bothered to fudge documents for a small parcel of land in a
small town? It didn’t seem important enough to matter to anyone.

Seth came back, and Meg could tell immediately that he wasn’t happy. “My office was broken into!”

“What?” Bree said.

“That’s awful!” Meg exclaimed.

“Somebody tossed all my paperwork all over the place. You didn’t happen to hear anything last night, did you, Meg?”

“Not a thing, but I was exhausted, and my bedroom’s on the other side of the house. Bree, did you notice anything?”

“Nope,” Bree said promptly. “Everything was dark and quiet when I got in around two. No cars, no people, nothing.”

Meg turned back to Seth. “Is anything missing?”

“Not as far as I can tell.” Seth dropped heavily into a chair and rubbed his face. “I have no idea what anyone could have been looking for. I don’t keep money in the office. It’s invoices and plans, mostly. It’s not like there’s a damn thing worth stealing. And I don’t think I’ve ticked anyone off lately, no one I can think of anyway.”

“Did you call the police?” Meg asked.

“Yeah, I talked to Art while I was up in the office.”

“Oh-ho, you’re pulling out the big guns! Straight to the chief of police, for a robbery where nothing got stolen?” Bree said.

“Art Preston’s a friend, and you know how small the department is—he just happened to be in today. He said not to mess with anything and he’d be right over. I really don’t need this, not now when the business is just starting to get busy.”

“I’m sorry, Seth,” Meg said. “But I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.”

A few moments later, Art Preston’s car pulled into the driveway. Meg got up to let him in. “Hi, Art. Long time no see. Seth’s here in the kitchen.”

“Hi, Meg, Bree. I thought things had been a bit too quiet over this way lately. Seth.” Art nodded toward Seth, standing behind the table. “You said your office had been broken into? Anything missing?”

“I can’t really say—you told me not to try to straighten it up. Like I told you, I don’t keep cash around, so unless someone was really coveting some antique wainscoting, there’s not much worth stealing. You want to go take a look?”

“Might as well. I can ask you a few questions later, Meg.”

“I’ll be here,” Meg replied with a sigh.

“The fun never ends around here, does it?” Bree said with an eye roll. “At least he didn’t find a body, unless it’s buried under all the papers.”

“Don’t even joke about it! A break-in happened on my property, and I didn’t notice a thing—that worries me. If it had been a bunch of kids looking to make trouble, wouldn’t they have been louder?”

“You’re asking me? I’m Ms. Squeaky-Clean. I don’t hang out with vandals. Besides, who would want to toss Seth’s boring office for the fun of it? Aren’t there better places to trash?”

Fifteen minutes later Art and Seth returned, arguing as they came in the back door. “There hasn’t been any vandalism around town lately, Seth.”

“Then how do you explain it? Maybe this is the first example. You know, it’s spring and all those hormones are running high.”

“Hi, guys.” Meg greeted them. “Did you find anything?”

“Nope,” Seth said, his tone disgusted. “Nothing missing, nothing broken. Somebody just broke in and tossed every piece of paper in the office.”

“‘Broke in’ might be an exaggeration. That lock was a joke,” Art said, sitting down.

“I didn’t think I needed a better lock!” Seth protested.
“It’s just a bunch of paperwork, half of which I hadn’t even filed yet. Now I have to waste time cleaning it all up.”

“Well, I’ll take your report so it’s on file, in case there are any other incidents. Meg, did you see or hear anything?”

“Nope, sorry. I was dead to the world. Bree and I finished planting my new orchard yesterday—a thousand trees. I couldn’t have stayed awake if you paid me.”

“Congratulations, if that’s the right term for a new orchard. Bree, were you here?” Art asked.

“Not until around two a.m. I spent the early part of the night over in Amherst. But I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary when I got back.”

Art sighed. “Seth, I’m sorry, but there’s not a whole lot I can do for you.”

“I know. I’m just angry, but not at you.”

Art sipped some coffee. “Actually, I’m surprised you haven’t been pumping me for information about Joyce Truesdell’s murder.”

Meg perked up. “Do you have anything you can share?”

“Nope, not my jurisdiction. As usual, Marcus is playing his cards close to the vest, and he hasn’t told me anything. Hasn’t even asked me for anything.”

“Did you know Joyce?”

“Personally? Not really. All her local permits were in order, and her vehicles were properly registered. As far as I’m concerned, she was a model citizen. Same with her husband.”

“You have any problems with illegal dumping lately?” Seth asked.

Art looked bewildered by the abrupt change of subject. “Nothing major, and that hazardous materials recycling program you started has been a big help. What’s that got to do with Joyce?”

“We’ve been wondering how her cows got lead poisoning,” Meg said.

“Lead poisoning? I hadn’t heard about it.”

“That’s not surprising,” Seth said. “Joyce had just gotten the blood work back on the cows when she was killed. Maybe down the line she might have wanted to file a criminal complaint, but as far as I know she didn’t have a case against anybody yet, much less proof.”

“You think that had anything to do with her death?”

Seth shrugged. “I don’t know. She came to me and told me about it because she suspected the land she had leased from the town was what was harming her cows. I said I’d pull together what I could on the history of the site, but I only got around to it this morning. That’s what all this stuff is.” He waved at the piles on the table. “Meg and I have been going through the records.”

“Why? Joyce certainly doesn’t care anymore.”

“Ethan still wants to know, just to see it through. And Marcus, too, to eliminate it as a possible factor in her murder.”

“Best to keep our detective friend happy,” Art said with a wry smile.

Seth smiled reluctantly in return. “True. And since I’m a selectman, I have a responsibility if this does come back to the town’s property in any way.”

“I see your point. Just don’t borrow trouble, okay?” In the depths of a pocket, Art’s phone rang, and he fished it out and answered. “Preston. Yeah.” Then his expression changed, his eyes widening. “What? I’m right around the corner. I’ll be right there.” He flipped the phone shut and stared at Seth with a peculiar expression. “Your mother just reported a break-in at her house.”

“Is she all right?” Seth stood up abruptly.

“Don’t go off half-cocked. Yes, she’s fine. She came home from some meeting or other and found a mess. I’ll head over there now. I assume you’re coming, too?”

“You going to try to stop me?”

“Nah. Let’s go. Bye, Meg.”

The two men went out to Art’s car and left quickly. Meg
and Bree stared at each other across the kitchen table. “What is going on here?” Meg asked. “A neighborhood crime spree? More malicious mischief?”

“Unless somebody’s got it in for the Chapins, but that’s hard to believe. Funny, though: here it was in the wee hours of the night, and at Lydia’s it had to have been in the last few hours. Maybe if Lydia had been home, they would have kept right on going to some other house.”

“It’s just weird. You are careful about locking up when you leave, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am, and we’ve got good locks. But anybody who really wanted to get in would just come through a window.”

“I know, but let’s not make it easy for them. Shoot, now I don’t know what to do. Should I ask Seth to bring Lydia over for dinner? Or do you think she’d rather stay home and clean things up?”

“Your call. I don’t know Mrs. C well enough to say.”

“Bree, do you really think this was just petty vandalism?”

Bree looked at her solemnly for a long moment. “No. Do you?”

“No. So what do we do now?”

“Got me.”

Seth called a couple of hours later. “Sorry—I knew you’d be worried, but I haven’t had time to call before now.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. How’s your mom’s place?”

He sighed before answering. “Same thing as at my office. Mainly it was the downstairs den that was tossed. Some other parts of the house, too, but nothing like the den.”

“Is Lydia all right? Was Max there?”

“She’s fine, and Max was with her at her meeting, so he wasn’t in the house. She’s angry, and I guess she feels kind of violated. You know what it’s like—it’s happened to you. But it gets worse.”

“What? How?”

“They broke into my house, too. Same thing. Nothing missing but a lot of mess.”

“Art knows?”

“Of course. He’s been following me around—he was the one who suggested we check out my house while we were at it.”

“What’s his take?”

“He’s sticking to the random-vandal theory. Both Mom and I were out this morning. Our houses are kind of isolated, so no one would be likely to notice strange comings and goings. There’s nothing of value missing. Whoever it was broke in through the doors, so the locks are trashed, but nothing else was damaged. Anyway, it could have been a lot worse.”

“Seth, do you believe this was a random choice by a bunch of kids?” Meg said gently.

She could hear his sigh over the phone. “No, Meg, I don’t. But I couldn’t give Art any other ideas to work on.”

Meg hesitated for a moment. “Seth, what if there’s something more than vandalism going on here? Like, somebody is looking for something?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know yet. But don’t you think it’s odd that the three places were hit within a short time and you’re connected to all of them?”

“Me? Why?”

Meg couldn’t find an answer. “Do you and Lydia want to come over here for dinner? I can’t imagine either of you will want to cook.”

“I’ll ask Mom. I’m not sure she wants to stay alone in the house right now, not that she’d say so. Hang on.” Seth laid down the phone, and Meg could hear the rumble of voices in the background. Then he picked up again. “Okay, she says she’ll come, too. About an hour?”