Rotten to the Core (8 page)

Meg took a deep breath. “Bree, were you worried about telling me that you knew Jason?”

Bree looked down at the table. “Maybe. I thought maybe you’d think I had something to do with his death. Dumb, huh?”

“Not at all.” Meg had more experience than she wanted in that arena. “Bree, I think you should tell the state police about your connection to Jason before somebody else does. I can put you in touch with the detective investigating the case—Detective Marcus.”

“You want me to go to the state police and tell them that Jason and I hooked up for a little while two years ago and it’s just a coincidence that he ends up murdered at the place I’m working?”

Stated like that, it did sound suspicious, but Meg persisted. “It would be better coming from you than from someone else. The fact that you’re connected both to Jason and to this place is going to jump out at them.”

Bree did not look convinced. “I’ll think about it.” She hesitated before going on. “So you don’t think I’m an idiot because I was involved with him?”

Luckily Bree didn’t know about Meg’s track record with relationships. “Of course not. And I don’t for a minute think you had anything to do with his death. Was that why you ran out of here yesterday?”

“Kind of. I wanted to think about the whole thing before I tried to explain it to you.”

“Well, I’m glad you told me. Now I’ll know what to say if someone asks me about your connection with him. And I think you should be proud that you saw through Jason’s BS and you ended it.”

Bree brightened. “Thanks, I guess. Look, I’ve got to get back to campus, but I can come back tomorrow and bring you some stuff to read on pesticides. That okay?”

“Fine. My schedule’s clear. And do think about talking to the detective, will you? It always looks better to give the police information than to wait until they come asking for it.”

“Maybe. But let me do it my own way, okay?” Bree did not appear convinced. “See you tomorrow.”

After Bree left, Meg wondered what she was supposed to do next. She hadn’t realized that there were political agendas in orchard management: organic, chemical, or somewhere in between. Now that she knew about GreenGrow, she should find out more about them before they showed up on her doorstep demanding . . . what? Vengeance for their fallen comrade? A guarantee that she would eschew all toxic substances and produce only wormy, shriveled apples? Or was she being unfair to them? Meg decided the first thing she should do would be to collect some useful information. If Jason had been so outspoken, surely there was some record online. Any half-respectable organization with a public ax to grind should have a website, shouldn’t it?

But before she had time to boot up her computer, Seth rapped on her back door, looking anything but cheerful, and she quailed inwardly. She wasn’t sure she was prepared to deal with yet another crisis. “Hi. You coming in?”

He stepped in, then turned to face her. “We may have a problem,” he said without preamble. “Can we sit?”

“Sure.” She took a seat, and so did he. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been clearing out the barn in fits and starts. I haven’t really had the time to do it all at once, and there are generations of junk piled up in there.”

“I know. That’s why I’ve stayed out of it. Did you find something?”

He sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. When you said Art thought Jason might have been poisoned, I didn’t put two and two together until after I’d left. And I still don’t know if this is important. Anyway, last week I stumbled across an industrial-size container of pesticide stuck in a corner. I can’t say how long it had been there, but it was way past its expiration date.”

“Something used in the orchard? But why is that a problem?” Meg asked.

“Somebody probably used it, years ago. Not Christopher—it’s got to predate his work with the orchard. But it’s a toxic substance, past its expiration date, and improperly stored, so I got rid of it. What do you know about disposal of hazardous wastes?” When Meg looked blank, he went on. “It’s usually handled by the local community government. As selectman, I set up a program for Granford about two years ago. The town posts a list of what substances they’ll accept. You’ve got to have somebody monitoring it, checking IDs, because you don’t want everyone in the state dumping their nasty stuff on you. Anyway, that’s the drill. I knew the stuff I found in the barn was potentially toxic, and I couldn’t in good conscience leave it sitting in your barn, so I figured I should turn it in. And I did, last Friday.”

“But that was before Jason died, right? Seth, what are you trying to tell me?”

“I don’t know that this has anything to do with Miller’s death, but if he was poisoned by something, and there was a toxic substance here on the property, it’s not a stretch to connect the two things. And Marcus will probably blow it all out of proportion.”

Meg’s mind went into overdrive. “When you found the container, did it look as though it had been disturbed any time recently?”

Seth shook his head. “I couldn’t say. I wasn’t paying a lot of attention.”

“And you took it away the same day?”

“I did. In any case, it’s gone now.”

Meg smiled wryly. “If Marcus asks, I never knew it was there. As far as I recall I never saw the stuff. And you know as well as I do what a mess that barn is.”

Seth smiled in response. “I do indeed.” Then his expression sobered. “Let me ask you this—who has access to the barn, other than me?”

“Currently? I’ve got a key, and it’s hanging right there by the door. I gave Bree one, but not until yesterday. Christopher might have a key, since he’s been using this site for years. And who knows how many assistants he’s had in that time? But to tell the truth, just about anyone who really wanted to could get into the barn with a butter knife. It’s not exactly secure.”

“I agree. But someone would have to have a reason to break in. Not just kids snooping around. You and I have been around a lot lately, coming and going, which limits the opportunities.”

“Could some earlier tenant have left the stuff?”

“Maybe. But they wouldn’t have any reason to use commercial-grade pesticide, would they?”

“I doubt it. So what are we saying? It was there, for who knows how long. It’s been gone since last week. And a whole lot of people could have known about it. It’s going to be hard to make the connection with Jason’s death—and we still don’t know how he died.”

Seth rubbed his hands over his face. He looked tired. “I know. I agree with you. But I don’t like the coincidence, and I feel as though I should say something to Marcus about it. Just in case. Especially since there’s a public record that I got rid of it, and I’m sure he’d like to find that was evidence of something.”

Meg almost laughed. She’d just lectured Bree on acting responsibly and talking to the detective, but this time it was different. She knew Marcus disliked Seth even more than he disliked Meg, for reasons that went back years, and the last murder investigation had done little to change that. No doubt he would seize upon this information and try to twist it somehow. She felt a brief flash of guilt. Ignorance was no excuse: it was her barn now, and she had a moral and legal obligation to know what was in it and to see that it was maintained—or, in this case, disposed of—properly.

“What?” Seth asked.

“What what?” she replied, stalling.

“You’re worried about something.”

“It’s that obvious? I was just thinking about Bree. She stopped by this afternoon to explain why she bolted last night. It turns out she and Jason dated a couple of years ago. I told her she ought to tell Detective Marcus about it before someone else does, but I don’t know if she will. The thing is, I don’t really know her. I can’t absolutely, positively say she’s not involved somehow. Not that I believe she could or would have done it.”
But I’ve been wrong before
. . .

“Slow down and take a deep breath,” Seth said, not unkindly. “Right now there’s a lot we don’t know, starting with how, why, and where Jason Miller died. If it’s any comfort, I have trouble imagining Bree as a killer, based on what I’ve seen of her. But let’s not go asking for trouble, okay? Let’s see what the authorities come up with.”

“Then can I panic?” Meg answered lightly. Still, he had a point. There was no reason to assume the worst—yet. “So, are you going to talk to Marcus?”

“Maybe I’ll talk to Art first, get a law-enforcement perspective. Sounds like I’m stalling, doesn’t it?” Seth managed an unconvincing smile.

“I know how you feel. But look at it this way: if you report it officially, the ME can look for that specific pesticide, and maybe he can eliminate it as a cause of death and we won’t have to worry about it anymore. And even if it is the same stuff, won’t a lot of people around here have some on hand?”

He brightened. “Probably—I know it’s still in use. I’m sorry I had to dump this on you, Meg, but I just thought you should know, in case it comes back to bite us.”

“Thank you, I guess. Better than getting blindsided down the line. But I’m sure you did the correct thing in disposing of it, and you had no reason at the time to think it was suspicious. And maybe that’ll be the end of it. By the way, what was it?”

“The generic name is methidathion. Why?”

“I could do some research, find out where this falls in the spectrum of pesticides. Maybe it’s not all that toxic and you’d have to consume five pounds for it to have any effect on you. I mean, humans are a whole lot bigger than bugs, aren’t they?”

“Maybe, but I won’t assume anything. This just gets better and better, doesn’t it?” Seth stood up. “I’d better be going. I’ll see if I can talk to Art tonight and maybe swing by Northampton tomorrow, if need be.”

“I guess I’ll take your suggestion and hope for the best, at least until we know more. You want me to ask Christopher if he knows anything about the pesticide in the barn? He’s supposed to be here tomorrow.”

“You might as well. Bye now.”

Seth let himself out, and Meg remained at the kitchen table, staring into space. She was disturbed by the presence of poison in her barn, and by the man who might have died of poison not far away. Were the two connected? If not, it was a peculiar coincidence. And then there was Bree . . . Meg wanted to believe Bree wasn’t involved, but her connection to Jason was yet another disturbing coincidence. And Meg didn’t trust coincidences.

It was nearly ten Friday morning when Meg saw Christopher’s UMass van turn into her orchard, and by the time she’d pulled on her rubber boots and her jacket and headed up the slope to intercept him, he had already moved into the midst of the trees with his gaggle of students and was in full lecture mode. When he noticed her approach, he smiled and waved without interrupting his spiel, and Meg came close enough to listen. After a few minutes, he waved the students off, and they scattered in pairs through the trees, looking for something. Christopher watched them critically for a moment, then turned to Meg.

“How are you, my dear? Any further fallout from your unpleasant discovery?”

Involuntarily Meg glanced at the low profile of the springhouse. “Nothing on what happened to Jason, but there’s something else that might be related I need to ask you about.”

He studied her face for a moment. “Something the students don’t need to hear?”

“It doesn’t concern them, if that’s what you mean. You use some pesticides on this orchard, right?”

“Yes, of course. Are you concerned about what we’ve been using? Whether it’s safe?”

Meg hadn’t even considered that aspect. Would something sprayed on the orchard drift down to the house? Once again she felt the weight of her ignorance. “It wasn’t that, although maybe you’re telling me I should worry about that angle. No, this is about something Seth found in the barn when he was clearing it out. A container of pesticide—methidathion, he said. He guessed it had been there for a while, but he thought it was too old, so he disposed of it. Properly, of course,” Meg rushed to add. “But he was worried . . . we still don’t know how Jason died. Seth put two and two together and didn’t like what he came up with. I said I’d ask you if it’s something you might have left here. You’ve been using this orchard for quite a while, right?”