Death of a Bad Apple by Penny Pike Page A

his hand.
    â€œLooks like they’ve got it under control,” I said, not knowing what else to say to a man who’d just lost his barn in a fire.
    He nodded, but remained mute.
    â€œThank God none of the animals were harmed,” Honey said.
    I wondered what animals she was referring to. Did Red have horses or cows or other livestock on his farm?
    â€œThe dogs are okay,” Red mumbled, motioning toward two golden retrievers tied up to a nearby treewith long lengths of rope, tails wagging, tongues hanging out. “They were sure scared when I got here,” Red added. “Barking at the barn and running around like wild animals.”
    Concerned about the dogs, I looked around for a container, spotted a bucket a few feet away, brought it over to them, then poured in the water from the second bottle. The dogs lapped it up quickly.
    â€œWho could have done such a thing?” Honey said when I returned to her side.
    I frowned. “You think this was deliberate?”
    â€œIt had to be,” Honey insisted. “This is the third fire in less than a month. That’s no coincidence. Someone is trying to burn down our properties, I’m sure of it.”
    â€œThat is troubling.” Roman’s voice came from behind us. I turned to see him studying the burned wreckage. “Do the firefighters have any idea how it started?”
    â€œNot yet,” Honey said, “but we’ll find out—as well as who did it—if it’s the last thing we do.”
    Roman’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. For a reporter, I expected him to ask more questions, but he sauntered off toward Paula, who had stopped taking pictures and was now talking to the man—Adam—who’d alerted Honey about the fire. I guessed he was another apple farmer, although by the look of his Western apparel, he seemed more like a cattleman than an orchardist. At the moment he seemed enthralled by whatever Paula had to say, nodding and grinning, reminding me of a shy high schoolfreshman talking to the head cheerleader. I wondered how he’d happened to be in Honey’s neighborhood and spotted the fire. Did he live nearby too?
    My random thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of a white SUV that pulled up close behind where we stood. It screeched to a halt and skidded a few inches on the gravelly driveway. Everyone turned to get a look at the new arrivals under the streetlight.
    Two women got out of the car. The driver, a blonde I guessed to be around fifty, spotted Red and walked over to him. The woman’s younger companion, around twenty-something, stood back, scanning the site. In the light from the streetlamp and the fire trucks, I could see the two resembled each other. They both had round faces, pert noses, and full lips. But the younger one’s hair was brown and their figures were different. The older one might once have been slim, but she had filled out around the waist, probably from age. Meanwhile, the younger one was a head taller and still svelte. Mother and daughter? I guessed.
    The older one grabbed Red’s arm when she reached him. “Oh my God, Red, what happened?”
    Red shrugged while Honey eyed her. “Don’t know,” he said simply. “Barn caught on fire. All the equipment inside burnt up. Don’t know if I can salvage anything. Have to wait and see.”
    Honey addressed the woman. “It’s all under control now, Crystal. The firefighters put out the fire. There’s nothing more to do. It’s over.”
    Crystal. The name rang a bell. Then I remembered,this was Red’s ex-wife. I glanced back at the younger woman I guessed to be their daughter. She definitely resembled her mother more than her father, which was probably a good thing. While Red was adorable in his way, his round nose, bushy eyebrows, and small eyes would not have been attractive on his daughter.
    â€œHow did it happen?” Crystal asked, still gripping