“Uh, sure. Please.” Meg stepped back, and Lauren and Rick walked into the hallway.
“I apologize for barging in on you like this,” Rick said, quickly taking the lead. “It was my idea. Lauren told me that you had said some distressing things to her, and I wanted to set the record straight.” He smiled, a tame version of his official smile.
Meg didn’t trust him an inch. “Of course,” she said. “Why don’t we sit in the living room?” She refused to play hostess and offer them anything until she had heard what he had to say.
Rick led the way, which further annoyed Meg—after all, it was her house. “Meg, I thought it was important to clear things up now.” He stopped abruptly, and Meg realized that Seth was standing in the doorway between the dining room and living room. “Chapin,” Rick said, his tone carefully neutral.
“Sainsbury,” Seth replied in the same tone, and Meg had to stifle an inappropriate giggle.
Men.
“Please, sit down, all of you,” Meg said. She was mildly surprised when they complied—had she expected Seth and Rick to circle each other like wrestlers? She glanced quickly around to assess the situation: Lauren looked uncertain, Rick looked self-assured, Seth looked cautious. “What was it you wanted to say, Rick?”
“My good right hand Lauren, here”—he turned to smile at her, and she nodded—“tells me that she had a disturbing conversation with you this morning,” Rick began.
As Meg had feared, Lauren had run straight to her boss and tattled; she had chosen to side with Rick rather than with Meg.
So much for friendship,
Meg thought.
Rick continued. “She told me that you believed that my campaign was somehow associated with the unfortunate death of a Granford citizen. I’d like to know what I can do to persuade you that that’s not true.”
“How much do you know about the
murder
?” Meg asked, emphasizing the last word.
“Why don’t you spell it out for me?” he countered.
Meg glanced at Seth, who gave a small nod of encouragement. “A local dairy farmer named Joyce Truesdell died a week ago Saturday. On first glance, it looked as though she had been kicked in the head by one of her cows, and that’s how it was first reported. But after the autopsy, the ME concluded that she had been hit in the head by something other than a cow’s hoof.”
Rick leaned forward, his forearms on his knees. “That’s very upsetting, but how is it that this connects to me?”
Seth spoke for the first time, in a careful voice. “Joyce leased a property from the town of Granford to graze her cattle. When she let them out into the pasture this spring, they began getting sick, so she had their blood tested. The report showed high levels of lead. She came to me, a selectman for Granford, to tell me there was a problem and that
she believed the problem was with the pasture. She said she had requested a soil test, although we don’t know if she’d received the results. When we heard that her death was not accidental, we had the soil tested independently, and it showed significant amounts of both lead and arsenic. I looked at the town’s records on that piece of land, and I found that the site had been a former paint factory, which was supposedly decontaminated about ten years ago. The work was done by your company, Pioneer Valley, at the request of the state Department of Environmental Protection.”
“Ah, I see,” Rick said, and sat back in his chair, his expression giving nothing away. “So what are you suggesting?”
“That Joyce’s cows were sickened because the cleanup work either was never carried out or was done badly, and that the all-clear reports given to the state and the town were falsified. And that if the knowledge that your company did shoddy work and then lied about it became public, it could hurt your political campaign.”
Rick was silent for a moment, and Meg could almost see the wheels turning in his mind as he absorbed this information. He and Lauren exchanged a quick glance before he spoke. “So—what? You’re suggesting that I killed this woman to cover up something that I didn’t even know about?”
“Or found someone else to do it,” Seth replied. The two men glared at each other.
Lauren looked scared. “Rick, I told you this was ridiculous.” Rick didn’t answer her.
Meg decided to cut through the testosterone cloud. “Let’s get the timeline straight. Rick, when did you start working for Pioneer Valley?”
“In 1997, after I received my business degree. My father died in 2004, and that’s when I took over as head, although in reality I’d been carrying most of the weight for a while
by then. How much do you know about Pioneer Valley Construction Management?”
“Only what I’ve read online,” Meg said.
“Lauren tells me that you have experience in the financial sector, Meg. Pioneer Valley is a large company, with multiple divisions. It employs over five hundred people. When I began there, my father wanted me to understand all aspects of the company, so I spent time working in several divisions. Still, there was no way I could have known the details of every project that we took on in those days. If you’re saying there was something suspicious about one particular project, I’d be happy to ask someone to review the records.”
If they haven’t been mysteriously destroyed, or shredded by an overzealous employee,
Meg thought.
Would anyone ever see those records again? Stop it, Meg
—
at least give the man a hearing.
“That’s an excellent idea,” she said. “I’m sure the lead investigator into the murder, Detective William Marcus of the state police, would be happy to have a copy. Just to clear up any doubt.”
“You’ve conveyed your suspicions to the authorities?” he asked.
“Yes, earlier today,” Seth said. “Marcus has copies of all of Granford’s documents pertaining to that piece of land, including the treatment reports.”
Rick nodded, once. “Entirely appropriate. I will be happy to share whatever information we have with the appropriate authorities.” He looked at Lauren, who nodded. “Seth, didn’t your father work with mine on several occasions?”
“That’s my understanding. I was occupied with other projects of my own at the time, and he didn’t share the details,” Seth replied stiffly. Meg found it interesting that Rick knew that much, yet he claimed he didn’t remember the remediation project—although if what they suspected was true, then
somebody
had made that connection. Was there a threat buried in there somewhere, directed at Seth?
If you mess with my family, I’ll drag yours down, too?
This oh-so-polite fencing match was getting them exactly nowhere, and Meg was losing patience. “Rick, why did you take time out of your very busy schedule to come here and talk to us about this? If it has nothing to do with you?”
He focused his full attention on her. “Right to the heart of the matter, eh, Meg? Look, as I’m sure you’re aware, the slightest hint of scandal or wrongdoing can torpedo a campaign, whether or not there’s any basis in fact. Granford is my hometown, and I’d hate to see any slurs originate here, of all places. Surely you can understand that?”
“Of course
we
are aware of that,” Meg said. “And we haven’t made a public accusation, nor would we, prematurely. But Joyce Truesdell was murdered—we can’t lose sight of that. You have to admit, you and your campaign have what could be viewed as a motive for silencing her.”
“And I will do anything in my power to cooperate with the authorities to clear this up,” Rick replied promptly. “I’ve done nothing wrong, and I do appreciate your discretion in approaching Lauren before making it a sensational public issue. Seth, I’m sorry that you believe that I could be involved in something like this. After all, we’re old teammates, aren’t we?”
“We were,” Seth replied. He didn’t add anything. Rick remained watching him for a moment, then apparently decided that it wasn’t worth pushing the point any further.
Lauren, who had been sitting and looking quietly miserable, finally spoke. “Meg, we really appreciate your bringing this to our attention so we can lay it to rest. I’ll be more than happy to follow up on obtaining those corporate documents and passing them on to the authorities.”
Rick smiled at Lauren. “I know I can count on you, Lauren. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Meg wondered briefly if Lauren had said that as an apology to her, or to pacify her boss. “That’s all I asked for, Lauren. Rick, no one would be happier than me to rule out your involvement.”
He turned his full wattage back to Meg. “Meg, I’m glad you appreciate the sensitivity of this issue. I admire you for acting on your concern for your friend Lauren here. Rest assured that I will do everything I can to get to the bottom of this and prove that I have nothing to do with this woman’s regrettable death.”
He certainly had the right line for every occasion, Meg thought. Far from its intended purpose of clearing the air, this impromptu meeting had muddied the waters: no new evidence had emerged, and now Rick knew more than he had when he walked in. Fearful that any further discussion would only make things worse, Meg stood up.
“Well, Rick, I’m very glad you came by tonight to give us your side of things. I know we’d all like to see this cleared up quickly, and I’m sure you’ll give Detective Marcus whatever he needs.”
The men had stood out of courtesy to Meg, but Rick didn’t look very happy about being dismissed—especially on her terms, not his. “Of course. Thank you for seeing us, and please let me know if you have any other issues. Your goodwill is important to me.”
“I’ll see you out,” Meg said, leading them toward the front door. As they left, Lauren turned to Meg and mouthed “I’ll call you,” then trotted briskly after her boss. Meg shut the door firmly behind them. She turned to Seth, who had remained standing in the living room. “Well,” she said.
“Well indeed,” Seth answered. “What was that all about?”
“A fact-finding mission? A warning? Got me. What’s your take?”
“About the same. I’ll have to hand it to Rick—he’s good. He’s clearly a natural at the political game. He said all the right things and was careful
not
to say anything that could turn around and bite him.”
“That’s how I felt. Plus he walked away with more information from us than he gave. But you don’t believe him?” said Meg.
“I…don’t know. I’m not sure how well we came out of this. Now he knows what we know, but he also knows who else knows it, like Marcus. If there is anything he’s covering up, it’s going to get harder and harder to do it. Too many people know too much.”
“Should I be worried?” Meg asked.
Seth crossed the room and put his arms around her. “About payback? Not while you’ve got me to protect you.”
Meg hit him in the chest. “My mother would call you a sexist pig.”
“So would mine. I can live with that. Am I staying?”
“Is that part of the protection package?”
“Sure.”
“Works for me.”
“Then I’d better take Max out one last time.”
Meg was wiping off the countertops in the kitchen when Seth returned with Max. “He’ll be all right down here in the kitchen, won’t he?”
“Sure, he’s good. Bree isn’t back?”
“Nope. Lucky us.”
Instead of grabbing her and heading for the stairs, Seth said, “Meg, there was something that you told me that Lauren said to you.”
Meg dried her hands and turned to face him. “What?”
“She said she thought you were jealous of her. Are you?”
“How do you mean? Do I want her job? No. Heck, I could have gone looking for another banking job, and in hindsight, I probably could have found one. I was good at what I did.”
“Instead you ended up stuck here.”
“Why do you say ‘stuck’? I’ll admit I was kind of shell-shocked when I first landed here, but that was a year ago. Once I figured a few things out, I found I enjoyed it. And I mean
all
of it: this creaky old house, the orchard, being part of a small community, making friends. You.”
“I come at the end of the list?”
“No, of course not. Are you looking for reassurance?”
“Meg, I didn’t mean it that way.” Now he did come closer and put his arms around her again. “I can’t tell you how great it’s been to watch you settle in here in Granford and take on so many new things. Of course I want you to be happy here. And I know what I want: you.”
“And I want you, Seth.”
“Pancakes? Waffles?” Seth asked the next morning. “I’m hungry.”
Meg, seated at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee, said amiably, “I wonder why?” She stood up and went over to the stove.
“Why don’t you let me cook for a change?” Seth said.
Meg held her hands up and backed away from the stove. “Go for it.”
Seth stood up and headed for the stove, accidentally on purpose bumping into Meg on the way, which set them both to laughing and mock wrestling.
The disentangled themselves only when Bree stumbled down the back stairs from her room above, bleary eyed. “Hi, Bree.” Meg greeted her housemate. “I never heard you come in. How was the film?”
“Long and incomprehensible, as expected. Michael was really into it, though. Hi, Seth.” Bree made a beeline for the coffee and helped herself. “There’s gonna be breakfast?”